Part Five
Unbeknownst to Rick and Celia, there was someone listening to their conversation, other than the still-reeling Anck-su-namun. Rick had no idea, but he led Celia to the backside of Jonathan's tent. After concluding his own conversation with Celia, Jonathan returned to his tent, still thinking about what he told her. He didn't believe that Celia would deliberately hurt Ardeth. But things needed to be said, and Ardeth was a member of Jonathan's family. Jonathan gave Rick the same talk. . .well, a watered-down version. . .when Rick and Evy were married. And as much as he hated to admit it, his family did have a tendency to make Ardeth's life. . .difficult.
So, his conversation with Celia was the best way Jonathan knew to show his affection for Ardeth. Despite the awakening of his memories as Nassor, and Ardath's encouragement, Jonathan still saw himself as a wastrel and a coward. He wasn't like Ardeth, brave and strong. Jonathan smiled faintly. . .no, on the contrary. Ardeth was the son which Jonathan's own father always dreamed of having. And until recently, during Imhotep's second rising, Jonathan's brotherly love for his friend warred with resentment.
That was until Jonathan saw the high price enacted from Ardeth. The scratches across Ardeth's arm and shoulder from the Mummy warrior, the cut on his shoulder (the one Rick made all the more painful when he slammed Ardeth into the pedestal). . .and the pain in his eyes when Horus was shot out of the sky. For the first time, Jonathan saw the real Ardeth Bey, instead of the stoic warrior. . .and his resentment melted away.
He actually intended to go to Alex's tent, to see what the boy and Darius cooked up the previous day. Darius was intent on making sure no one would ruin his uncle's wedding day. Especially since, the seven year old told Jonathan solemnly, Auntie Aleta said it was a day for celebration indeed, that Uncle Ardeth chose a woman whom most of his family liked. Jonathan decided he didn't want to know what that meant.
He never really thought about Ardeth having a love life. He supposed that he thought the chieftain was like Evy. . .her life really didn't begin until she met Rick. It was absurd, of course. While his affections were far different from Nassor's, Jonathan knew that Ardeth was considered a very attractive man. But he was also a man who closely guarded his heart, and who was unwilling to give less of himself than he could.
The Englishman knew that was the driving force behind Ardeth's original reluctance to ask Celia to marry him. Not because he didn't love her, but because he didn't want her to be second in his life. Rick put Evy first. . .and Ardeth would have willingly sacrificed his chance with Celia in order for her to have a husband who could put her first in his life. Celia, of course, had other ideas, as Evy reminded their friend.
And in the end, Ardeth didn't want to lead such a life. It took some time, but he eventually accepted that not giving Celia the chance to have a say in her own fate was far more selfish. And this was where Jonathan's mind was, when he overheard the conversation between Rick and Celia. Jonathan was in a compromising situation. Did he leave, and possibly expose himself. . .or did he stay, and potentially gain blackmail information to use against Rick at a later date?
He decided on the latter. However, he kept his hand firmly clapped over his mouth, especially as the small American woman consistently got the better of his brother-in-law. So, Rick thought that Celia had no idea just how inexperienced Ardeth was? Oh, puh-leaze, even Jonathan knew *that,* and all without Ardeth having to say a word! Rick really needed to stop and think, before he did Ardeth any more so-called favors.
He was concentrating so much on *not* laughing at the way his brother- in-law bungled this, he almost missed the best part. Rick admitting that he should have listened to Evy about this, and Celia's reaction. Jonathan fell against his pallet with a thump, tears of silent laughter running down his face. At that point, he no longer cared whether anyone heard him, and the way Celia was reaming Rick, it was unlikely if anyone did.
At last, Celia ran out of insults. Ooooh, she was so angry with Rick! Jonathan regained control with a concerted effort. If this was any indication, there would be plenty of entertainment over the next two days. Rick stalked off, muttering under his breath about stubborn little American wenches, and other things that probably would have enraged Celia even further, if she heard.
A few minutes later, Jonathan heard a thump against his tent flap, then Celia entered without waiting for an answer. Jonathan was on the point of waxing indignantly about her rudeness, when Celia blurted, "I can't believe his nerve! For the love of Pete, I'm thirty years old! And even if we were both inexperienced, there's still the matter of dreams. For the last few weeks, we've had dreams about our past lives. And trust me, in that lifetime, we both gained a LOT of experience!"
That put images into Jonathan's head that he didn't really want. It also reminded him of all the times Nassor walked in on Rameses and Ardath while they were. . . Ew. Jonathan shook his head, and then belatedly realized that Celia knew he was here. But she was still pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath about Rick, and she finally stopped to look at him, asking, "Jonathan, do you have any idea where I can hide a body, because your brother-in-law is real close to getting his neck wrung?"
"Did. . .you know I was here all along?" Jonathan asked. Celia blinked in surprise, and Jonathan continued, "You didn't. You didn't even realize that you were behind my tent all the time." Now Celia's face was turning bright red as the words penetrated her brain. Her eyes went very, very wide, and Jonathan recognized the expression. He grabbed her elbow, saying, "Oh no, my lady. . .you're going nowhere!"
. . .
One of these days, her tendency to shoot off her mouth without thinking later would really get her into trouble. But she was so angry with Rick for his. . .his. . .his presumption, Celia never really thought about Jonathan's presence. Truly, though, she wasn't thinking about much of anything at the time. Just getting this frustration out of her system, before she killed her best friend's husband, and her own 'brother-in-law.'
Celia's face was flaming with embarassment, even as she cursed herself for her violent blushing, then cursed whoever 'gifted' her with extremely fair skin. And all the while, Jonathan was grinning like a maniac. He was enjoying this entirely too much. At least, that was what she was thinking, until he exclaimed enthusiastically, "Good show, Celia! I don't believe I've ever met anyone who could trump Rick like that, except Evy!"
At that point, Celia realized that Jonathan wasn't enjoying himself at her expense. Rather, it was at Rick's expense, and that, of course, changed everything. It was very unkind, of course, but right now, she didn't care. She was still blushing, but Celia's own sense of humor returned as she replied, "Well, what do you think Evy will do when she finds out? And you know she will." Jonathan's smirk answered that, leading Celia to ask, "You'll make sure she does?"
"My dear girl, I highly doubt if it will be necessary for *me* to say a blessed word to my darling baby sister. I think Anck-su-namun will do that quite well herself. She was rather put out with Rick, you know," Jonathan answered, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Yes, Celia noticed that. The Englishman rubbed his hands, still grinning impishly, and continued, "I say! The next few days will be quite entertaining!"
Celia smirked and replied, "You do realize, Jonathan, that I didn't do it to entertain you?" The cheeky grin which Jonathan offered in response answered that question, and Celia continued, "Just making sure. But you're right. . .things will be rather interesting today and tomorrow, especially. I had my meeting with the Elders this morning. They wanted to know what drew me to Ardeth in the beginning."
She sighed, thinking back to the meeting. She was more than a little surprised when she received a visit from one of the young warriors in training, telling her that her presence was requested in the tent of the Elders.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Celia explained, "I told the story of how I first met y'all. You remember at the docks in Cairo, and how Ardeth kinda scared both me and Miranda at first. . .and how he won over my daughter with his gentleness." Jonathan nodded. Strange, how on that day, she had *no* inkling that her life was just about to change forever. She always thought that such momentous changes would be heralded by. . . well, by something.
Then again, she traveled to Egypt from the United States during a Depression, and growing instability throughout the world. Maybe that was warning enough that her life was about to change. There were times when she looked at everything that happened in the last few months, and felt as if she wasn't even the same person any more. Maybe she wasn't. There were days when she scarcely recognized herself from the exhausted, frustrated, frightened young woman who arrived that day.
Jonathan said softly, "Ah yes. Our little mouse turned into a lioness quite unexpectedly." Celia grinned, not at all offended that he called her a mouse. That was what she was then. Or, that's what she thought she was. It took meeting Evy and Ardeth, facing down both Khaldun and Imhotep, before she realized what she should have known ages ago. She was a helluva lot stronger than she gave herself credit for. She always was. It just took the recent crises to prove it to herself.
Jonathan asked, "So. . .when did you realize you were becoming attracted to our fierce Med-jai?" Celia's cheeks flamed once more, but she laughed. She understood what he meant. She and Ardeth were drawn together by mutual loneliness in the beginning. . .then friendship, forged while he was teaching her to defend herself. And of course, she *always* noticed how attractive he was. How could she not? She wasn't blind, after all. And then. . .
"I suppose I first started realizing that I was attracted to him when Evy had me take out some refreshments to him and the other Med-jai warriors who were practicing. He was so relaxed, like he was that first night, remember?" she asked. Jonathan nodded and Celia continued, smiling faintly at the memory, "He turned to me, and he smiled. I swear, if Rick hadn't come by and rescued the tray, I would have dropped it!"
Jonathan laughed with her, saying, "I remember. Evy was teasing you about feeling the affects of Ardeth's smile." Celia's face reddened further, but she didn't lose her smile. The Englishman was silent for a long moment, then he said almost sadly, "You know, I've been divorced several times. I would fall so hard. . .but it was never really love. Because there was never trust. I envy you that, Celia."
The American woman looked at him, startled to see a wistful expression on her friend's face. Jonathan continued, "I understand where Ardeth is coming from, in a way. How do you tell if someone's interested in you for your position and money, or for yourself? I never really thought about it, you see. I thought. . .I thought the only thing I had to offer a woman was my money. Maybe that's why my marriages failed."
"You know, Jonathan," Celia replied softly, trying to comfort her friend despite her lack of credibility, "I'm in no position to give advice. Miranda was the only good thing to come out of a bad choice on my part. . .she's the only reason I would go through the mess with Carstairs again. And my head is still spinning over my luck in finding Ardeth. But it seems to me you're setting your standards too low. You think money is all you've got going for you. . .but that's not true."
Jonathan's eyes were unusually haunted. He didn't believe her. Celia wanted to see him smile again. She wouldn't try to make him laugh, because she didn't think it would help. Besides, she was afraid he would take it to mean that she didn't take him seriously. Celia continued, "And Jon, you don't have to be Rick O'Connell or Ardeth Bey. How many times, when Evy really needed you, have you let her down?"
Jonathan pursed his lips. He wanted to be convinced, but whatever was troubling wouldn't let go of him. Still, he wanted to believe her, and Celia went on, "Never. Evy told me that you have never failed her when she needed you most. You've never failed Alex or Rick or Ardeth when they needed you. Goddess, Jon! If it weren't for you, Ardeth would be dead, he would have died at Ahm Shere! Don't think I can forget that!"
"You're wrong, though," Jonathan said softly. Celia frowned in confusion, and her friend continued, "I have failed one person you mentioned. I failed Alex." The American's frown grew. Just how in the hell did he figure that? Jonathan swallowed hard and closed his eyes. The teasing conversation just took a very strange turn, and Celia was trying to figure out that happened, what upset Jonathan so badly.
She was about to reach out to him, when his eyes met hers. Celia froze in place, and Jonathan told her, "You know, of course, that Rick and Evy adopted Alex, not that long after they were married. That his birth mother was our distant cousin, who couldn't take care of the tyke." Celia nodded slowly, her blood running cold. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to say, and she didn't know how to react, if she was right.
Apparently encouraged by her silence, Jonathan continued, "What you don't know. . . what they didn't tell you because *they* don't know. . .is that I am Alex's birth father. But I swear to you, Celia, on that grave of my father. I never knew. I didn't know until after Alex was adopted that he was mine." Celia sat back, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to lash out at Jonathan, remembering what she went through while raising Miranda alone.
And another part of her wouldn't allow that. He said he didn't know, and Celia believed him. She asked hoarsely, "Evy and Rick don't know?" Jonathan shook his head, looking miserable, and Celia fell silent again. It wasn't her place to judge. She knew that. She also knew that Alex was in good hands. After a moment, Celia finally said, "Then I won't tell them. You've lived with this secret for years, Jon. Why?"
"Oh, come on now, Celia, you're a bright girl, I'm sure you can figure it out! After a while, it gets rather old, seeing the disappointment in my little sister's eyes. . .and the contempt in Rick's. I. . .they are Alex's parents, Celia. I just helped to create him. I have no legal right to him, because my name is not on the birth certificate. I have no right to him, just as Carstairs had no right to Miranda," Jonathan answered.
"Uh. . .hold on. Don't even think about comparing yourself to that man. You're nothing like him, nor will you ever be like him!" Celia told him with a glare. His head snapped up, and Celia continued, "Yeah, you heard me right. You're *nothing* like him. And don't let me ever hear you say otherwise again, do I make myself clear?"
Jonathan blinked, then nodded very slowly, looking startled. Celia continued, "Good. Because you're much too fine a gentleman to think that way. And you have my word. . .this stays between us." Jonathan gave her a weak smile, then did something quite unexpected. He reached over to squeeze her shoulder, then drew her into a brief, fierce embrace. It was in this way that a new bond cemented an ancient friendship.
. . .
Saying that went badly was an understatement, and true to form, he lashed out at anyone dumb enough to get in his way as he stalked away from the confrontation. But once he calmed down, Rick O'Connell realized that he bungled the whole thing badly. First and foremost, he should have listened to Evy when she asked him to leave it alone. Secondly, he should have never made the assumption he did about Celia.
And thirdly, he should have never allowed Anck-su-namun to get to him. That was stupid, and accomplished nothing. Still, in his own defense, Rick was still getting used to being on the same side as the ghost. She put his family through entirely too much for him to trust her. Rick knew he had to talk to Ardeth about what just happened with Celia. Not because he was afraid Celia would tell Ardeth. . .that wasn't her style. . .but because he knew once she regained her composure, Anck-su- namun *would* tell Ardeth. That *was* her style. Rick muttered under his breath, skirting the laughing Med-jai children. Today began the first day of the festivities for their chieftain's wedding.
It was a festive occasion, on par with getting out of classes in the orphanage. He found Ardeth among the warriors who were returning from patrol. . .a different set of warriors, Rick noted, than the ones who gifted Celia with their loyalty. Of course. Patrols usually lasted two or three days, sometimes as much as a week. Ardeth increased the number of patrols in the area around Hamunaptra. Khaldun's power wasn't as great as Imhotep's, but he could still drive Med-jai warriors insane if they got too close. And too many Med-jai died already because of him.
Ardeth listened intently to what the warriors told him, nodding ever so often. His hands moved in the air, as if he was sketching something for the warriors to see, and the other men all nodded their agreement. Rick looked at his friend, seeing him for the first time. By now, he should have been used to it. Everything he believed about his friend for so long was turned upside down in the space of just a few weeks. He never really saw Ardeth in his chieftain mode, as Celia called it. He saw the warrior, the sage, the loving uncle and older brother, the shy young bridegroom.
But he never saw the chieftain, save in that brief moment at Izzy's airfield. The brief meeting was over, and the warriors dispersed to eat, wash, and spend time with their families. Rick watched in silence as Ardeth's shoulders slumped, and he wearily rubbed his hand across his forehead. The American thought back to the day before his own wedding, and it hit him then, just how much responsibility Ardeth carried.
After a moment, Ardeth looked up and smiled wearily at Rick, asking, "What may I do for you, my friend?" Rick felt guilty, realizing he was about to add to Ardeth's exhaustion. The sun was high in the sky, and Ardeth was up before dawn. What business did Rick have, adding to Ardeth's burden? He was being selfish, telling Ardeth to spare himself. The Med- jai added, "Something troubles you, O'Connell. I can tell."
Damn. When did Ardeth learn to read him so well? More to the point, why could he read Rick so well, and the American had a much harder time reading the Med-jai? However, that was neither here nor there. Ardeth took the choice from him, and Rick answered, "I just had something of an argument with your wife-to-be." Ardeth merely looked at him, and Rick added with a sigh, "I told her, Ardeth."
"Told her? Told her what, O'Connell?" Ardeth asked, obviously confused. Of course he wouldn't know. They hadn't discussed it in months, not since that night on the barge. Rick looked around. . .too many people. He put his hand on Ardeth's shoulder, gently steering him away from the corral, in the opposite direction of the tents. Ardeth walked alongside him, repeating in a low voice, "What did you tell Celia?"
Once they were a safe distance from people, Rick asked softly, "Do you remember what we talked about on the barge, while we were on our way to rescue Celia?" Ardeth frowned, and Rick could almost see his friend casting his mind back over the last few months. They talked about so much that night, and Ardeth had the added complication of still dealing with his head injury, to say nothing of his guilt.
Rick swallowed, realizing he would do something that would damage his friendship with Ardeth. The chieftain was eyeing him with curiosity, and maybe some trepidation. Rick took a deep breath, then said, "I told her that you. . .that you're inexperienced." He couldn't say the word a second time. Saying it once was hard enough, but saying it twice? Not a chance!
It took Ardeth a few seconds to process what Rick said, then all the color drained from his face. That wasn't the worst part. The look of betrayal in his friend's eyes. . .that was the worst part, and Rick felt about as low as anyone could go. Or so he thought, until Ardeth's fist flashed out from his robes, catching Rick hard across the jaw. The force of the blow knocked the American on his ass. Okay. . .now he couldn't go any lower.
Rick got to his feet, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. Ardeth had yet to say anything, and that was somehow worse than him bellowing at Rick. The taller man reached out, wincing when Ardeth pulled back, and Rick said, "God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to. . .I was trying to help." Even as he said it, he winced. . .that sounded so far beyond lame, he didn't even want to think about it. And that awful, betrayed look in Ardeth's eyes hadn't disappeared, hadn't eased.
Rick being Rick, he tried again, saying, "I know I deserved that, but if it helps, that little tigress you're marrying chewed me out." He almost added a flippant remark, questioning whether Ardeth really wanted to marry such a firebrand, but held his tongue. He *really* didn't think his friend was in any mood to take it. He added, "I almost wish Lock-nah would come back, just to see Celia in action."
He would come to regret that remark in the months ahead, but at this moment, it had the desired effect of making Ardeth smile. It was a small smile, almost rueful, but it also had the effect of releasing some of the tension in his friend's body. Rick said again, "I *am* sorry, Ardeth. I thought I was helping you. . .turns out, your future wife already figured it out, and ripped into me for not giving you enough credit."
At last, Ardeth sighed, answering, "I know you meant well, O'Connell, but please do not help me further. I am afraid my marriage will not survive it, and I am certain that yours will not. Evy advised you against saying anything, did she not?" Rick just looked at his friend, who added, "I thought as much." This time, Ardeth didn't draw away when the American approached, or when he put a gentle hand on the Med-jai's shoulder.
He didn't pull away, but there was a wariness there that hurt Rick to see. The trust was shattered, and the American had no idea how to repair it. He didn't know if it was possible, but Rick did know that he had to try. It was hard for him to acknowledge how important Ardeth was to him, even to himself, but he couldn't bear to lose his Med-jai friend. Least of all because of some stupidity on Rick's part. He struggled for several moments, trying to find the words he needed. In the end, he went for the simple truth.
"Listen, Ardeth, I'll be totally honest with you. I'm not real good at this friend business, or at this brother business. Evy has decided that you two have been brother and sister in the past, that makes you her brother in this life, and I don't argue with my wife. Usually. What I'm trying to say is. . .I'm still figuring out what I'm allowed to do as your big brother. Jonathan always says that it's the right and duty of an older brother to tease his younger siblings, and I'm just taking advantage of that. Sort of," Rick said.
"I remember some of those lives," Ardeth replied in a haunted voice, and Rick guessed that those memories were bad. That made the American feel bad all over again. Living with Terumun's memories was bad enough. But living with the memories of Rameses, a man reviled for refusing to allow Moses to take the Hebrew slaves from Egypt? There were times when Rick couldn't imagine living with those memories. Hell, it was hard enough for him to accept Ardeth's assertion that Rick was a Med-jai!
At the same time, he remembered what Ardeth told him on the dirigible, 'A man who will not accept his past has no future.' Or something like that. Something occurred to Rick then, and he looked at Ardeth quickly, asking, "That night on the dirigible, while we were tracking Imhotep. When you told me about accepting my past. . .warning me. You were talking. . .that was from personal experience. You couldn't remember your past lives. . .and that's why you warned me about not accepting my own."
"Aywa. I have known since I was a child that I was different from the others in my tribe, for I knew I had past lives, but couldn't remember them. The others remembered before they became warriors. You must understand, O'Connell, though it is difficult for you to accept. I do not speak merely to speak," Ardeth replied. Rick knew that. He gave his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze, not knowing what else to say.
Rick O'Connell was always better with his fists. And in this situation, words failed him anyhow. He would make things right with Ardeth, by giving him something no one in the Med-jai camp would ever think about giving him. A bachelor party. Yeah. That would work. He would convince Jonathan to hand over some of his booze. They couldn't have the girls, but they sure as hell could have the booze! Rick grinned to himself. Now there was an idea. Tonight, he would get Ardeth Bey drunk!
. . .
Ardeth thought the day couldn't get any worse. He was informed by his mother, when he couldn't find his fiancee, that the elders broke with tradition, and summoned Celia to their tent early this morning, before breakfast. They wished to hear what drew her to Ardeth. That was usually saved for the night before the wedding, but in light of her. . .unusual. . .ties to the Med-jai, the Elders changed their minds.
That wasn't the worst part of the morning. The worst part came shortly after his own meeting with the Elders, when he was ambushed by Sanure's mother. She lived among the Geban tribe with her second husband, and the previous night, after her confrontation with Celia, Sanure sent a message to her mother. The old witch was *not* pleased that Ardeth sided with his future wife, and wanted to make sure he knew it.
Not that he could have missed *that,* since she was practically screaming in his face. His training as a warrior conflicted with the courtesy promised to elders. On one hand, he was tempted to remove her screaming head from her body. On the other. . . Be that as it may, the current Med-jai matriarch swept in to defend her son and her future daughter-in-law. But not, unfortunately, before the biddy gave Ardeth the headaches to end all headaches. He was shooed from his mother's tent, with Altair Bey telling him to get something to eat before he fell over, and take the children with him.
After listening to Sanure's mother, spending time with the little ones was a pleasure. Miranda burrowed against his side, both seeking and giving comfort. He couldn't eat at first. . .his insides were churning with tension, and the idea of food made him sick. Once he relaxed, thanks to Dari's antics, he found he *was* hungry. After breakfast, Acacia and Aleta came for the children. Celia was seen talking to first the warriors, then O'Connell. It looked like an intense conversation (that was something of an understatement), and Aleta hadn't wanted to interrupt. Instead, she came for Miranda. Ardeth was alone again, and he finished his breakfast, before returning to his tent to go over information he received from the Twelve Commanders during their meetings.
And then came the conversation with O'Connell. The anger was gone, replaced with a bone deep weariness and some amusement. It wasn't his friend's fault, of course. He was trying to help, in a twisted sort of way. And Celia. Ardeth allowed himself a smile, thinking of what O'Connell told him. Celia fought back. She was worth every confrontation, every moment of dissent within the village. She fought back, not because he was the chieftain, but because she loved him.
And that old woman wanted him to cast her aside. Never. That was what his mother said. Altair Bey drew herself to her full height, dark eyes blazing with fury, and spat, "NEVER! My son will never put her aside, and nor should he! For the last sixteen years, he has given everything he possesses to the Twelve Tribes of the Med-jai. He has sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, and his own health. Celia brings him joy and laughter. You dare to accuse my son of being selfish. . .it is you who are selfish, denying my son even a small bit of happiness!"
Sanure's mother reared back, as if struck. She really wasn't that old. If Ardeth's memory served, she was about the same age as his own mother. But that was what Altair always called her. Never by her name, but 'that old woman.' And that woman now stared at Altair in shock. Ardeth relaxed a little more as he remembered his mother's part in the conversation. Anyone who thought his mother mellowed as she grew in age and in wisdom obviously wasn't present that morning.
Ardeth's mother smiled grimly, adding, "Now, remember this, and remember it well. . .old friend. I was here when your bitch daughter attacked my son's chosen bride. I was here when your brat grandchildren attacked my granddaughter. You were not. My only complaint with my future daughter is that she has been too patient. Yesterday, her patience ran out. Your daughter should be grateful that it was Cecelia whom she attacked. . .because Acacia and Aleta would have both slit her throat."
It was then that his mother shooed him from her tent, telling him to take the children with him. Altair Bey would forever see him as her son first, and the chieftain second. It was something that made him very grateful, even on those occasions when they butted heads. The knowledge that his family was still his family. Just as Celia would be his wife, regardless of whether he was just Ardeth. . .or if he was the chieftain.
Celia. Ardeth's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of his future bride wandering about the tents somewhat aimlessly. He strode toward her, wanting to spend some time with her before the Elders summoned him to their tent. She looked up as he approached and gave him a tired, wan smile. She said, "Ardeth. I was afraid I would have to wait until this afternoon to see you. Are you all right? You look exhausted."
Ardeth brushed away his weariness, and touched her cheek. She looked tired as well, and he said, "I am well, my love. But what of you? I heard about the Elders. . .and about O'Connell." Celia rolled her eyes, and Ardeth wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her in close. Perhaps that was not such a good idea. His body reacted instantly, and Ardeth swallowed hard. His trousers were feeling entirely too tight at the moment.
"The Elders turned out to be pussy-cats. I guess I convinced them that I do love you, and not your position. So, Rick told you about our little conversation, did he?" Celia asked, winding her arms around his waist. Ardeth stifled a groan. Yesterday was not so difficult, as they were in the cool water of the oasis, which took some of the edge of his desire. This, however, was different.
"He did. Just as he told me. . .how did you know, Celia?" Ardeth asked, trying to focus his mind on the conversation, rather than on his unruly body. Celia looked up at him questioningly, and that sent another bolt of desire through him. But Ardeth was unwilling to let go of her. He needed to hold her. Needed her in his arms, just as she was in his heart. Ardeth elaborated after a moment, "How did you know about. . ."
Then he had to search for the words he needed to use. It wasn't necessary. Celia smiled up at him and replied, "Because I know you. You are very. . .your devotion to your people is obvious. And I remember how you struggled with me, because you were afraid of giving me less than what you thought I deserve. I know that for you, giving your heart is much easier than giving your body, because giving your body is dangerous in ways that giving your heart is not."
Ardeth swallowed hard, especially when Celia released him and rested her small hands on his waist. She said softly, "I know that, the way I know that holding back is as hard for you as it is for me. I have barely more experience than you do, but I do know what that tension in your body means. We only have until tomorrow night, my prince, and then we will belong to each other for all eternity."
Ardeth looked around. . .ahhh, excellent. It was just them. Perhaps in time, he would be more comfortable with public displays of affection. That was something which his mother mentioned to him. . .his discomfort with public affection made the narrow-minded among his people think that Celia cast a spell on him. He, in turn, pointed out to his mother that it mattered little what he did, for those small-minded people would come up with the same conclusion.
His mother sighed her agreement. Ardeth couldn't fault her for her observation. She was trying to help. They were all trying to help. He looked back at Celia and asked hoarsely, "Then you will not object, my queen, if I give you a preview of tomorrow night, a short preview to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you?"
She smiled and lifted her face to his. Ardeth met her halfway, covering her mouth with his own. Each time he kissed her, it seemed as if their bodies melted together, regardless of their clothes. This time was no different, though Ardeth's mind was no longer capable of registering where he was or what he was doing, aside from kissing his beloved. He wasn't even aware whose body was more pliant against the other's.
And as it always was, the moment, the magic was shattered. This time, by a very unwelcome voice saying, "Ardeth? The Elders wish to see you. . .oh." Ardeth broke away from Celia reluctantly, a ragged moan of protest torn from his throat (or was it Celia's?) as he turned to face the soon to be dead young warrior. Hanif turned bright red with embarrassment, whether from what he interrupted or from the glare his chieftain was giving him. He stammered, "I am so sorry, Ardeth, but the Elders wish to see you."
"Go, love. I need to find Evelyn anyhow. I'll see you tonight at the celebration dinner," Celia whispered, her own voice hoarse. Ardeth looked deep into her eyes, seeing promises of what was to come. He leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead, whispering, 'I love you' in Arabic. She smiled faintly, answering, "You know, one of these days, you'll have to tell me what that means." Ardeth just smiled and released her, albeit reluctantly.
"One of these days, I will tell you," Ardeth promised, then turned his gaze on Hanif. The young warrior looked even more embarrassed, and the chieftain all but growled, "You will see her safely to Evelyn's tent." It was not a request, it was a statement of fact. Hanif bobbed his head, and Ardeth turned one last time to Celia. She smiled at him, and Ardeth almost melted. Before he could, however, he stalked off. *Just one more night,* he thought, *one more night!*
. . .
To say Hanif was embarrassed was a huge understatement. He was among the Med-jai who knew their queen well, and vowed to protect her for the joy she brought to their chieftain. He had no wish to interrupt Ardeth, but the Elders wanted him to join them. And failing to carry out a task for the Elders was *not* the best idea. On the other hand, interrupting their chieftain while he was with his beloved was an equally bad idea. But at least Celia wouldn't allow Ardeth to kill him.
They walked toward the O'Connell tent together, side by side, in silence. Hanif was worried about his queen. She was unusually quiet. Or, perhaps a better way of putting it was, she was more quiet than usual. Celia was never one to fill silences with mindless chatter, and over the weeks, Hanif learned to recognize her silences, just as he recognized Ardeth's silences. This was. . .Celia was troubled about something.
Ardeth told him to look after Celia, and by Hanif's reckoning, that also meant making sure she was all right in other ways. With that decided, he asked softly, almost shyly, "What troubles you, my queen? Is it the wedding ceremony tomorrow?" Celia looked up and smiled at him faintly, a troubled expression remaining in her lovely eyes. Hanif always became annoyed with women who criticized Celia for her hazel eyes. They were beautiful eyes, changing like the desert.
"I cannot give you the specifics, Hanif, but I was just given information, and I am trying to come to terms with it. It could tear apart a family, if the truth was learned. I must never allow this information to slip out. If that makes any sense," Celia finally replied. Hanif nodded. It did. Far more sense than he could acknowledge. But that part didn't matter, because his answer assured his queen that she could talk to him.
And that was exactly what she did. Celia continued, "This is a problem, because I can't tell Ardeth, and I don't like starting a marriage by keeping secrets. Even if it's one that doesn't directly affect the Med- jai. But, it's not my place to tell." Hanif understood all too well. She was being pulled in several different directions at the same time. Hanif experienced this himself, especially in recent weeks.
The Med-jai, though charged with an ancient, sacred duty, were human beings. Like all humans, they could be petty and vindicative. They could be selfish. . .indeed, was it not the very selfishness of Hamadi Bey which let to the casting of the hom-dai?
The young warrior slowly, "I understand, my lady. I find myself in a similar position, though not in the telling of a secret. But I am divided. Should I back my chieftain, who put his own body between us and the Anubis Warriors? Or do I listen to others in this camp who demand that my chieftain sacrifice his happiness by denying his heart? It angers me, that I must make such a choice." Hanif turned to face Celia more directly, hoping he could make her understand.
"They will continue to force you, Hanif," she replied, "because some will never accept me as Ardeth's wife. I know it. Ardeth knows it. You know it. I have heard those whispers, saying I should leave because my presence disrupts the Med-jai. I will tear apart this nation, because Ardeth loves me. But the truth is, their blindness will tear apart the Med- jai. They cannot accept any truth but their own, and that will destroy them. I just hope it doesn't destroy the Med-jai as well."
She turned away and began walking once more. Hanif thought about her words as he struggled to catch up. She was right, wasn't she? No matter how hard Celia tried, no matter how hard she worked, there were many in this camp who would never accept her. Nothing she would do would ever be good enough, because she was an American. . . because she wasn't Med-jai. They would always find reasons to criticize her.
As they walked side by side, Hanif said, "Then the next time they force me to choose. . .I will make my stand beside the chieftain of our people. Such things cannot continue. I have no desire to be part of the Med-jai, if such people are part of its future." Celia looked at him, and Hanif added, "I was suspicious of you at first. But I know you love Ardeth. I know you make him happy. And I know, if you were with us at Ahm Shere, you would have stood at his side."
He paused as they reached Evelyn's tent, then added, "Just as I know that your greatest detractors were not there when so many of our warriors died. I will speak to the other warriors. This will be my wedding gift to you, Celia. All I ask is that you take care of my leader." She smiled and touched his shoulder, then his cheek. And then she ducked into the tent, leaving Hanif alone. The young warrior bit his lip, thinking about the decision he just made.
It would not be an easy road. But nothing in the Med-jai way of life was ever easy, and this was no different. Perhaps that was why the nay- sayers, those who refused to give Celia a chance, annoyed him so much. They took the easy way out, rather than having the courage to acknowledge something good in something. . .someone. . .who was different. Hanif nodded to himself slowly, thinking through what came next.
First, he would speak to the warriors who just returned from patrol. He would tell them of what happened during the last few days. He would tell them of his own decision, and would invite them to stand with him at Ardeth's wedding ceremony. A wedding gift to the chieftain who fought so hard for their people, for their world. He didn't know how many warriors would stand with him, but he knew he had to find out.
And as for Sanure and her family. . .Hanif ground his teeth together. He could take no action against them, despite Sanure's latest act of perfidy. He was in practice with many other warriors, when that one's mother arrived in the camp and started haranguing Ardeth. Ahhh. That might be a better place to start. Hanif began to smile, remembering the looks which passed between the warriors, and the remarks made.
"It is fortunate for that old bitch that Ardeth is the chieftain, for I know many warriors who would have struck her down, regardless of her age," one said. He was somewhat older than Hanif, around Ardeth's own age. Another veteran of Ahm Shere, a survivor who buried two of his brothers, killed by the first wave of Anubis Warriors. He was also from one of the oldest families of the Med-jai, almost as old as Ardeth's own.
"Aywa. I was none too pleased with the chieftain's decision to marry an outsider, but that is not my decision," said another, "and the only things which keeps the chieftain from doing exactly what you suggest is the old woman's age, and he has no patience with those who attack women." He paused, then smirked as he added, "Besides. . .I saw her storm into Lady Altair's tent. And you know how Lady Altair is about such rudeness!"
The laughter which exploded from all men gathered was enough to draw glances, and the warriors set immediately to work. Hanif smiled. Yes. He would find the men with whom he was practicing this morning. He would tell them of the conversation with Celia. And see how many of those had the courage to stand with him. There would only be one holdout, that he knew of. Sanure's own husband, Rami.
He tried to speak once, only to be silenced with jeers from the other men. Hanif's own partner, Aaqil, was the loudest. He was also the oldest out of the group, as he was a contemporary of Andreas Bey. Aaqil jibed, "Ho, he wishes to speak! I can tell you this, my *brother,* I would rather see our chieftain marry the pale outsider than your bully bitch of a wife. Yes, I called your wife a bully, for that is what she is!"
Rami started toward Aaqil, his dark eyes flashing with fury. He found any insult to his wife unacceptable, as he loved her dearly. Why, Hanif had no idea, but love could be just as blind as hatred. Aaqil continued in a taunting voice, "And now, the entire camp knows what my baby sister has known for years." Hanif flinched, but couldn't blame Aaqil for the dig. Not when his partner's younger sister Anissa miscarried her first child because of Sanure's hair-trigger temper years earlier.
It was the first time in the history of the twelve tribes that such a thing occurred. Hanif was just a child, around the same age as Ardeth's niece when it happened. But he had vague memories of hearing his parents talk about it. It enraged the entire camp, and served to turn many against the spoiled only daughter of Tamar, wife of the Geban second. Indeed, there were many Med-jai who wished to see Sanure die for what she did.
Hanif's mother feared such a thing. If Sanure could die for what she did, what would happen if the stress caused by an argument caused a woman to go into premature labor? At the time, his mother had a hard time believing that Sanure could have meant to harm Anissa or her unborn child. Perhaps she was very young herself at the time. He only knew that after Andreas was killed, his mother turned against both the mother and daughter whom so many hated. Why that was the catalyst, Hanif didn't know.
Only her mother's position within the Twelve Tribes prevented Andreas from kicking the bitch out. Since he couldn't do that, he did the next best thing. He demanded, and received, the word of Sanure's step-father that Anissa's husband would have the chance to choose Sanure's husband for her. Yusuf, enraged over the loss of his daughter and nearly losing his wife because of Sanure's jealousy, chose a warrior younger than Sanure who was believed to be impotent.
Even now, years after the birth of their first child, there were many who believed Sanure was unfaithful. Rami, for all his flaws, was a loving and protective husband. And regardless of his own temper, he did not deserve to be cuckolded by his wife. No one could prove it, of course, but the whispers remained. They probably always would. Hanif bit his lip once more. On second thought, he wouldn't visit the warriors first. Instead, he would visit Anissa. Yes. That was a good place to start.
. . .
Unfortunately for Hanif, he wasn't the first person to think about that. Acacia Bey made that decision after she and Anck-su-namun paid Sanure a little visit. It felt good, putting Sanure in her place, which should have been done years earlier. Now, Acacia sat in Anissa's tent. Eighteen years passed since the attack which caused Anissa's miscarriage, and while she moved on, the resentment and bitterness remained.
Yes, Anissa did know about what happened the previous night, and she was pleased that it was the chieftain's (future) wife who finally put Sanure in her place, even if she was an outsider. Anissa hadn't met Celia yet, but she was looking forward to it. She sounded like someone whom Anissa would like. . .quiet on the outside, but with a steel interior which made anyone who tangled with her family regret it.
Of course Anissa would like her. . .in many ways, Celia was like Anissa's sixteen year old daughter Ishtar, her greatest joy and greatest exasperation. Acacia looked forward to the meeting between Celia and Ishtar. In fact. . .that gave the Med-jai princess an idea. Acacia leaned forward and asked, "Anissa, what does your daughter say about my youngest brother? He is still unwed, you know." Anissa's answering smile told her what she needed to know, but Anissa went further than Acacia anticipated.
"Well, I'm sure you realize that many young maidens were quite disappointed when Ardeth announced his decision to marry. Ishtar was no different, though he is twice her age. However, I have noticed her looking at young Anatol in the last few weeks. Do you believe your brother would be good to my girl?" Anissa asked. In many ways, Anissa reminded Acacia of her own mother. Altair's first priority was the happiness of her children. Politics would always come second.
"Let us find out, shall we? Anissa, I wish you to join us. You and Ishtar, for tonight is the dance," Acacia replied. Anissa's eyes glittered at the mention of the dance. It was a dance of celebration, performed each time a Med-jai couple were married. It had one other function, as it was a dance to grant the new couple many children. After Anissa lost her daughter, the Bey women danced again outside Anissa's tent. They could not undo what was done. . .but they could appeal to the gods to give Anissa another child.
"Do you believe, Acacia, that your sister-in-law would dance with us?" Anissa asked, raising a brow. Acacia felt a familiar stirring of excitement. She hadn't even thought of that, but yes! Why not! She smiled at the woman brilliantly, and saw her own excitement reflected in Anissa's eyes. The other woman whispered, "You *do* think so! But why? Why would she, how could she, when she knows not the dance?"
"That is where you are incorrect, my friend," Acacia replied, grinning positively impishly, "that is incorrect, because she is the reincarnation of Lady Ardath, she who gave us this dance. And once we start dancing, she will remember." Anissa's eyes widened, and Acacia wondered briefly how it was that Anissa didn't know about Celia's past lives among the Med-jai, then she dismissed the question. It was not important.
Anissa called, "Ishtar! Ishtar, my daughter, come!" Anissa's daughter entered her mother's portion of their tent, her long black hair hanging free. Anissa held out her hand to her daughter and said, "Our princess has come to ask us to dance for her brother and his queen tomorrow, my daughter. Would you like to dance for Ardeth and his Celia, my Ishtar? Would you like to dance at the side of Lady Ardath's reincarnation?"
Ishtar looked at her in wonderment, whispering, "So it is true? What they say? That our chieftain weds the reincarnation of our mother?" Acacia noted that Ardath was called the mother of the Med-jai by a new generation, just as she and Aleta did. The young woman nodded, and Ishtar continued, her excitement growing, "Do you think she will remember? Do you think she will remember the dance she gave us?"
"I believe she will. Ishtar. . .yesterday, my sister-in-law stood up to Sanure. She not only stood up to her, but she had Sanure on her knees, with Celia's dagger at her throat. Eighteen years ago, Sanure caused your mother to miscarry your older sister when she ran her horse directly at your mother because Sanure wished to marry your father," Acacia replied.
This was ancient history, of course, taking place long before Ishtar was even born. But it was necessary to remind the girl, for it led into what came next. Acacia continued, "My sister-in-law faces a people who consider her less because she is not Med-jai. I wish all to know that there are Med-jai who will stand with my brother and his wife." As it turned out, it was unnecessary to remind Ishtar of what occurred the day before.
"I was there, my princess. I was there, when that woman tried to attack our chieftain's chosen. I was there when your lady mother warned all within this tribe that she supported her son's choice. I would be honored to dance for the woman who avenged my sister," Ishtar hissed. She gave a malevolent little smile, adding, "And I will get my friends to dance for our chieftain and our new queen as well."
Acacia could ask for no more. According to tradition was, the more people who danced for the couple, the more children they would have. It didn't always work. . . sometimes there were many dancers, but few children. But never, in all the time Med-jai women danced for their newlyweds, was a child not born of that union. Acacia didn't know what kind of powerful magic was in that dance, but she knew it worked.
"Ishtar, my love," Anissa suggested with an equally evil smile, "why don't you invite Vashti to dance as well? I should think she would welcome a chance for redemption." Vashti was the child who spat on Celia's boots during the tour, the child whom Anck-su-namun dumped a tent on. And Acacia watched in amazement as Ishtar's smile grew all the more evil. She hadn't thought that was possible.
"Oh, that would be excellent, Mother! She has been pouting ever since the concubine's ghost dropped the tent on her head. . .and ever since her mother forced her to apologize to Ardeth and his lady. I'll go at once and ask them all. Thank you, princess!" Ishtar exclaimed. She bounced out after giving her mother a kiss, and Acacia watched her in amazement. She looked back at Anissa, who just laughed.
"We cannot accept the blind to accept your sister-in-law, my princess. But we can show the blind that we accept our new queen. Tell me, Acacia, does this young American woman take good care of your brother? Does she make sure he eats?" Anissa asked. Acacia nodded, remembering how her mother helped Celia to make a tray for Ardeth when he was meeting with his Commanders.
"She does. In fact, she stands up to O'Connell on a regular basis. I don't believe she will intervene where Hamunaptra is concerned, but Rick O'Connell is another story entirely," Acacia replied. She paused, thinking about her mother's words once more, then continued, "And. . .He Who Shall Not Be Named. Imhotep. If he is to ever become human once more, then I think Celia will have a hand in it."
Anissa smiled humorlessly, replying, "Well, if she can turn the Creature back into a human being, then she definitely deserves our chieftain. . .you know, I'm sure, that even those of us who are happily married care for your brother. We care a great deal for him, and we always will." Acacia inclined her head in agreement, and Anissa continued, "He is very special. He always has been, even as a little boy trailing behind Andreas."
Acacia flinched at this reminder of her brother, dead for so many years. However, Anissa wasn't finished. Like Celia, she didn't say much, but when she did speak, it was best to listen to what she was thinking. Anissa observed, "Ardeth deserves a wife who is equally special. Although, to be honest, I doubt if even this reincarnation of Lady Ardath is special enough to make the Creature human once more."
"There was a time when I thought the same," Acacia admitted, "just as I thought I could never consider Anck-su-namun to be an ally. But things have changed lately, and now. . .now I believe anything is possible, my friend. In Hamunaptra, Celia broke the hom-dai as part of a bargain. She would break the hom-dai, if the Creature helped to save my brother. She kept that bargain. . .with her own blood. Anything is possible."
"Perhaps. We shall see. And tonight, I shall dance with you. May your brother and his Celia have many healthy, happy, strong children, Acacia. And may your sister-in-law never know the pain of losing a child," Anissa replied, her voice cracking. Acacia inclined her head, and quietly took her leave of the woman. There were days when Anissa still mourned her lost child. It was accepted. That pain would never go away. And when it was strongest. . .Anissa was best if no one outside her family saw her tears.
Once outside the tent, Acacia wiped her own tears away. She knew she still had a lot of work to do before the dance tonight. She had to make sure all the robes and dresses were finished. She had to help Aleta set the perimeter for the dance. But first, she would find her children and hug them until they protested. It was always the same after speaking with Anissa. She always needed to be with her children after being with Anissa.
Unbeknownst to Rick and Celia, there was someone listening to their conversation, other than the still-reeling Anck-su-namun. Rick had no idea, but he led Celia to the backside of Jonathan's tent. After concluding his own conversation with Celia, Jonathan returned to his tent, still thinking about what he told her. He didn't believe that Celia would deliberately hurt Ardeth. But things needed to be said, and Ardeth was a member of Jonathan's family. Jonathan gave Rick the same talk. . .well, a watered-down version. . .when Rick and Evy were married. And as much as he hated to admit it, his family did have a tendency to make Ardeth's life. . .difficult.
So, his conversation with Celia was the best way Jonathan knew to show his affection for Ardeth. Despite the awakening of his memories as Nassor, and Ardath's encouragement, Jonathan still saw himself as a wastrel and a coward. He wasn't like Ardeth, brave and strong. Jonathan smiled faintly. . .no, on the contrary. Ardeth was the son which Jonathan's own father always dreamed of having. And until recently, during Imhotep's second rising, Jonathan's brotherly love for his friend warred with resentment.
That was until Jonathan saw the high price enacted from Ardeth. The scratches across Ardeth's arm and shoulder from the Mummy warrior, the cut on his shoulder (the one Rick made all the more painful when he slammed Ardeth into the pedestal). . .and the pain in his eyes when Horus was shot out of the sky. For the first time, Jonathan saw the real Ardeth Bey, instead of the stoic warrior. . .and his resentment melted away.
He actually intended to go to Alex's tent, to see what the boy and Darius cooked up the previous day. Darius was intent on making sure no one would ruin his uncle's wedding day. Especially since, the seven year old told Jonathan solemnly, Auntie Aleta said it was a day for celebration indeed, that Uncle Ardeth chose a woman whom most of his family liked. Jonathan decided he didn't want to know what that meant.
He never really thought about Ardeth having a love life. He supposed that he thought the chieftain was like Evy. . .her life really didn't begin until she met Rick. It was absurd, of course. While his affections were far different from Nassor's, Jonathan knew that Ardeth was considered a very attractive man. But he was also a man who closely guarded his heart, and who was unwilling to give less of himself than he could.
The Englishman knew that was the driving force behind Ardeth's original reluctance to ask Celia to marry him. Not because he didn't love her, but because he didn't want her to be second in his life. Rick put Evy first. . .and Ardeth would have willingly sacrificed his chance with Celia in order for her to have a husband who could put her first in his life. Celia, of course, had other ideas, as Evy reminded their friend.
And in the end, Ardeth didn't want to lead such a life. It took some time, but he eventually accepted that not giving Celia the chance to have a say in her own fate was far more selfish. And this was where Jonathan's mind was, when he overheard the conversation between Rick and Celia. Jonathan was in a compromising situation. Did he leave, and possibly expose himself. . .or did he stay, and potentially gain blackmail information to use against Rick at a later date?
He decided on the latter. However, he kept his hand firmly clapped over his mouth, especially as the small American woman consistently got the better of his brother-in-law. So, Rick thought that Celia had no idea just how inexperienced Ardeth was? Oh, puh-leaze, even Jonathan knew *that,* and all without Ardeth having to say a word! Rick really needed to stop and think, before he did Ardeth any more so-called favors.
He was concentrating so much on *not* laughing at the way his brother- in-law bungled this, he almost missed the best part. Rick admitting that he should have listened to Evy about this, and Celia's reaction. Jonathan fell against his pallet with a thump, tears of silent laughter running down his face. At that point, he no longer cared whether anyone heard him, and the way Celia was reaming Rick, it was unlikely if anyone did.
At last, Celia ran out of insults. Ooooh, she was so angry with Rick! Jonathan regained control with a concerted effort. If this was any indication, there would be plenty of entertainment over the next two days. Rick stalked off, muttering under his breath about stubborn little American wenches, and other things that probably would have enraged Celia even further, if she heard.
A few minutes later, Jonathan heard a thump against his tent flap, then Celia entered without waiting for an answer. Jonathan was on the point of waxing indignantly about her rudeness, when Celia blurted, "I can't believe his nerve! For the love of Pete, I'm thirty years old! And even if we were both inexperienced, there's still the matter of dreams. For the last few weeks, we've had dreams about our past lives. And trust me, in that lifetime, we both gained a LOT of experience!"
That put images into Jonathan's head that he didn't really want. It also reminded him of all the times Nassor walked in on Rameses and Ardath while they were. . . Ew. Jonathan shook his head, and then belatedly realized that Celia knew he was here. But she was still pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath about Rick, and she finally stopped to look at him, asking, "Jonathan, do you have any idea where I can hide a body, because your brother-in-law is real close to getting his neck wrung?"
"Did. . .you know I was here all along?" Jonathan asked. Celia blinked in surprise, and Jonathan continued, "You didn't. You didn't even realize that you were behind my tent all the time." Now Celia's face was turning bright red as the words penetrated her brain. Her eyes went very, very wide, and Jonathan recognized the expression. He grabbed her elbow, saying, "Oh no, my lady. . .you're going nowhere!"
. . .
One of these days, her tendency to shoot off her mouth without thinking later would really get her into trouble. But she was so angry with Rick for his. . .his. . .his presumption, Celia never really thought about Jonathan's presence. Truly, though, she wasn't thinking about much of anything at the time. Just getting this frustration out of her system, before she killed her best friend's husband, and her own 'brother-in-law.'
Celia's face was flaming with embarassment, even as she cursed herself for her violent blushing, then cursed whoever 'gifted' her with extremely fair skin. And all the while, Jonathan was grinning like a maniac. He was enjoying this entirely too much. At least, that was what she was thinking, until he exclaimed enthusiastically, "Good show, Celia! I don't believe I've ever met anyone who could trump Rick like that, except Evy!"
At that point, Celia realized that Jonathan wasn't enjoying himself at her expense. Rather, it was at Rick's expense, and that, of course, changed everything. It was very unkind, of course, but right now, she didn't care. She was still blushing, but Celia's own sense of humor returned as she replied, "Well, what do you think Evy will do when she finds out? And you know she will." Jonathan's smirk answered that, leading Celia to ask, "You'll make sure she does?"
"My dear girl, I highly doubt if it will be necessary for *me* to say a blessed word to my darling baby sister. I think Anck-su-namun will do that quite well herself. She was rather put out with Rick, you know," Jonathan answered, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Yes, Celia noticed that. The Englishman rubbed his hands, still grinning impishly, and continued, "I say! The next few days will be quite entertaining!"
Celia smirked and replied, "You do realize, Jonathan, that I didn't do it to entertain you?" The cheeky grin which Jonathan offered in response answered that question, and Celia continued, "Just making sure. But you're right. . .things will be rather interesting today and tomorrow, especially. I had my meeting with the Elders this morning. They wanted to know what drew me to Ardeth in the beginning."
She sighed, thinking back to the meeting. She was more than a little surprised when she received a visit from one of the young warriors in training, telling her that her presence was requested in the tent of the Elders.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Celia explained, "I told the story of how I first met y'all. You remember at the docks in Cairo, and how Ardeth kinda scared both me and Miranda at first. . .and how he won over my daughter with his gentleness." Jonathan nodded. Strange, how on that day, she had *no* inkling that her life was just about to change forever. She always thought that such momentous changes would be heralded by. . . well, by something.
Then again, she traveled to Egypt from the United States during a Depression, and growing instability throughout the world. Maybe that was warning enough that her life was about to change. There were times when she looked at everything that happened in the last few months, and felt as if she wasn't even the same person any more. Maybe she wasn't. There were days when she scarcely recognized herself from the exhausted, frustrated, frightened young woman who arrived that day.
Jonathan said softly, "Ah yes. Our little mouse turned into a lioness quite unexpectedly." Celia grinned, not at all offended that he called her a mouse. That was what she was then. Or, that's what she thought she was. It took meeting Evy and Ardeth, facing down both Khaldun and Imhotep, before she realized what she should have known ages ago. She was a helluva lot stronger than she gave herself credit for. She always was. It just took the recent crises to prove it to herself.
Jonathan asked, "So. . .when did you realize you were becoming attracted to our fierce Med-jai?" Celia's cheeks flamed once more, but she laughed. She understood what he meant. She and Ardeth were drawn together by mutual loneliness in the beginning. . .then friendship, forged while he was teaching her to defend herself. And of course, she *always* noticed how attractive he was. How could she not? She wasn't blind, after all. And then. . .
"I suppose I first started realizing that I was attracted to him when Evy had me take out some refreshments to him and the other Med-jai warriors who were practicing. He was so relaxed, like he was that first night, remember?" she asked. Jonathan nodded and Celia continued, smiling faintly at the memory, "He turned to me, and he smiled. I swear, if Rick hadn't come by and rescued the tray, I would have dropped it!"
Jonathan laughed with her, saying, "I remember. Evy was teasing you about feeling the affects of Ardeth's smile." Celia's face reddened further, but she didn't lose her smile. The Englishman was silent for a long moment, then he said almost sadly, "You know, I've been divorced several times. I would fall so hard. . .but it was never really love. Because there was never trust. I envy you that, Celia."
The American woman looked at him, startled to see a wistful expression on her friend's face. Jonathan continued, "I understand where Ardeth is coming from, in a way. How do you tell if someone's interested in you for your position and money, or for yourself? I never really thought about it, you see. I thought. . .I thought the only thing I had to offer a woman was my money. Maybe that's why my marriages failed."
"You know, Jonathan," Celia replied softly, trying to comfort her friend despite her lack of credibility, "I'm in no position to give advice. Miranda was the only good thing to come out of a bad choice on my part. . .she's the only reason I would go through the mess with Carstairs again. And my head is still spinning over my luck in finding Ardeth. But it seems to me you're setting your standards too low. You think money is all you've got going for you. . .but that's not true."
Jonathan's eyes were unusually haunted. He didn't believe her. Celia wanted to see him smile again. She wouldn't try to make him laugh, because she didn't think it would help. Besides, she was afraid he would take it to mean that she didn't take him seriously. Celia continued, "And Jon, you don't have to be Rick O'Connell or Ardeth Bey. How many times, when Evy really needed you, have you let her down?"
Jonathan pursed his lips. He wanted to be convinced, but whatever was troubling wouldn't let go of him. Still, he wanted to believe her, and Celia went on, "Never. Evy told me that you have never failed her when she needed you most. You've never failed Alex or Rick or Ardeth when they needed you. Goddess, Jon! If it weren't for you, Ardeth would be dead, he would have died at Ahm Shere! Don't think I can forget that!"
"You're wrong, though," Jonathan said softly. Celia frowned in confusion, and her friend continued, "I have failed one person you mentioned. I failed Alex." The American's frown grew. Just how in the hell did he figure that? Jonathan swallowed hard and closed his eyes. The teasing conversation just took a very strange turn, and Celia was trying to figure out that happened, what upset Jonathan so badly.
She was about to reach out to him, when his eyes met hers. Celia froze in place, and Jonathan told her, "You know, of course, that Rick and Evy adopted Alex, not that long after they were married. That his birth mother was our distant cousin, who couldn't take care of the tyke." Celia nodded slowly, her blood running cold. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to say, and she didn't know how to react, if she was right.
Apparently encouraged by her silence, Jonathan continued, "What you don't know. . . what they didn't tell you because *they* don't know. . .is that I am Alex's birth father. But I swear to you, Celia, on that grave of my father. I never knew. I didn't know until after Alex was adopted that he was mine." Celia sat back, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to lash out at Jonathan, remembering what she went through while raising Miranda alone.
And another part of her wouldn't allow that. He said he didn't know, and Celia believed him. She asked hoarsely, "Evy and Rick don't know?" Jonathan shook his head, looking miserable, and Celia fell silent again. It wasn't her place to judge. She knew that. She also knew that Alex was in good hands. After a moment, Celia finally said, "Then I won't tell them. You've lived with this secret for years, Jon. Why?"
"Oh, come on now, Celia, you're a bright girl, I'm sure you can figure it out! After a while, it gets rather old, seeing the disappointment in my little sister's eyes. . .and the contempt in Rick's. I. . .they are Alex's parents, Celia. I just helped to create him. I have no legal right to him, because my name is not on the birth certificate. I have no right to him, just as Carstairs had no right to Miranda," Jonathan answered.
"Uh. . .hold on. Don't even think about comparing yourself to that man. You're nothing like him, nor will you ever be like him!" Celia told him with a glare. His head snapped up, and Celia continued, "Yeah, you heard me right. You're *nothing* like him. And don't let me ever hear you say otherwise again, do I make myself clear?"
Jonathan blinked, then nodded very slowly, looking startled. Celia continued, "Good. Because you're much too fine a gentleman to think that way. And you have my word. . .this stays between us." Jonathan gave her a weak smile, then did something quite unexpected. He reached over to squeeze her shoulder, then drew her into a brief, fierce embrace. It was in this way that a new bond cemented an ancient friendship.
. . .
Saying that went badly was an understatement, and true to form, he lashed out at anyone dumb enough to get in his way as he stalked away from the confrontation. But once he calmed down, Rick O'Connell realized that he bungled the whole thing badly. First and foremost, he should have listened to Evy when she asked him to leave it alone. Secondly, he should have never made the assumption he did about Celia.
And thirdly, he should have never allowed Anck-su-namun to get to him. That was stupid, and accomplished nothing. Still, in his own defense, Rick was still getting used to being on the same side as the ghost. She put his family through entirely too much for him to trust her. Rick knew he had to talk to Ardeth about what just happened with Celia. Not because he was afraid Celia would tell Ardeth. . .that wasn't her style. . .but because he knew once she regained her composure, Anck-su- namun *would* tell Ardeth. That *was* her style. Rick muttered under his breath, skirting the laughing Med-jai children. Today began the first day of the festivities for their chieftain's wedding.
It was a festive occasion, on par with getting out of classes in the orphanage. He found Ardeth among the warriors who were returning from patrol. . .a different set of warriors, Rick noted, than the ones who gifted Celia with their loyalty. Of course. Patrols usually lasted two or three days, sometimes as much as a week. Ardeth increased the number of patrols in the area around Hamunaptra. Khaldun's power wasn't as great as Imhotep's, but he could still drive Med-jai warriors insane if they got too close. And too many Med-jai died already because of him.
Ardeth listened intently to what the warriors told him, nodding ever so often. His hands moved in the air, as if he was sketching something for the warriors to see, and the other men all nodded their agreement. Rick looked at his friend, seeing him for the first time. By now, he should have been used to it. Everything he believed about his friend for so long was turned upside down in the space of just a few weeks. He never really saw Ardeth in his chieftain mode, as Celia called it. He saw the warrior, the sage, the loving uncle and older brother, the shy young bridegroom.
But he never saw the chieftain, save in that brief moment at Izzy's airfield. The brief meeting was over, and the warriors dispersed to eat, wash, and spend time with their families. Rick watched in silence as Ardeth's shoulders slumped, and he wearily rubbed his hand across his forehead. The American thought back to the day before his own wedding, and it hit him then, just how much responsibility Ardeth carried.
After a moment, Ardeth looked up and smiled wearily at Rick, asking, "What may I do for you, my friend?" Rick felt guilty, realizing he was about to add to Ardeth's exhaustion. The sun was high in the sky, and Ardeth was up before dawn. What business did Rick have, adding to Ardeth's burden? He was being selfish, telling Ardeth to spare himself. The Med- jai added, "Something troubles you, O'Connell. I can tell."
Damn. When did Ardeth learn to read him so well? More to the point, why could he read Rick so well, and the American had a much harder time reading the Med-jai? However, that was neither here nor there. Ardeth took the choice from him, and Rick answered, "I just had something of an argument with your wife-to-be." Ardeth merely looked at him, and Rick added with a sigh, "I told her, Ardeth."
"Told her? Told her what, O'Connell?" Ardeth asked, obviously confused. Of course he wouldn't know. They hadn't discussed it in months, not since that night on the barge. Rick looked around. . .too many people. He put his hand on Ardeth's shoulder, gently steering him away from the corral, in the opposite direction of the tents. Ardeth walked alongside him, repeating in a low voice, "What did you tell Celia?"
Once they were a safe distance from people, Rick asked softly, "Do you remember what we talked about on the barge, while we were on our way to rescue Celia?" Ardeth frowned, and Rick could almost see his friend casting his mind back over the last few months. They talked about so much that night, and Ardeth had the added complication of still dealing with his head injury, to say nothing of his guilt.
Rick swallowed, realizing he would do something that would damage his friendship with Ardeth. The chieftain was eyeing him with curiosity, and maybe some trepidation. Rick took a deep breath, then said, "I told her that you. . .that you're inexperienced." He couldn't say the word a second time. Saying it once was hard enough, but saying it twice? Not a chance!
It took Ardeth a few seconds to process what Rick said, then all the color drained from his face. That wasn't the worst part. The look of betrayal in his friend's eyes. . .that was the worst part, and Rick felt about as low as anyone could go. Or so he thought, until Ardeth's fist flashed out from his robes, catching Rick hard across the jaw. The force of the blow knocked the American on his ass. Okay. . .now he couldn't go any lower.
Rick got to his feet, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. Ardeth had yet to say anything, and that was somehow worse than him bellowing at Rick. The taller man reached out, wincing when Ardeth pulled back, and Rick said, "God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to. . .I was trying to help." Even as he said it, he winced. . .that sounded so far beyond lame, he didn't even want to think about it. And that awful, betrayed look in Ardeth's eyes hadn't disappeared, hadn't eased.
Rick being Rick, he tried again, saying, "I know I deserved that, but if it helps, that little tigress you're marrying chewed me out." He almost added a flippant remark, questioning whether Ardeth really wanted to marry such a firebrand, but held his tongue. He *really* didn't think his friend was in any mood to take it. He added, "I almost wish Lock-nah would come back, just to see Celia in action."
He would come to regret that remark in the months ahead, but at this moment, it had the desired effect of making Ardeth smile. It was a small smile, almost rueful, but it also had the effect of releasing some of the tension in his friend's body. Rick said again, "I *am* sorry, Ardeth. I thought I was helping you. . .turns out, your future wife already figured it out, and ripped into me for not giving you enough credit."
At last, Ardeth sighed, answering, "I know you meant well, O'Connell, but please do not help me further. I am afraid my marriage will not survive it, and I am certain that yours will not. Evy advised you against saying anything, did she not?" Rick just looked at his friend, who added, "I thought as much." This time, Ardeth didn't draw away when the American approached, or when he put a gentle hand on the Med-jai's shoulder.
He didn't pull away, but there was a wariness there that hurt Rick to see. The trust was shattered, and the American had no idea how to repair it. He didn't know if it was possible, but Rick did know that he had to try. It was hard for him to acknowledge how important Ardeth was to him, even to himself, but he couldn't bear to lose his Med-jai friend. Least of all because of some stupidity on Rick's part. He struggled for several moments, trying to find the words he needed. In the end, he went for the simple truth.
"Listen, Ardeth, I'll be totally honest with you. I'm not real good at this friend business, or at this brother business. Evy has decided that you two have been brother and sister in the past, that makes you her brother in this life, and I don't argue with my wife. Usually. What I'm trying to say is. . .I'm still figuring out what I'm allowed to do as your big brother. Jonathan always says that it's the right and duty of an older brother to tease his younger siblings, and I'm just taking advantage of that. Sort of," Rick said.
"I remember some of those lives," Ardeth replied in a haunted voice, and Rick guessed that those memories were bad. That made the American feel bad all over again. Living with Terumun's memories was bad enough. But living with the memories of Rameses, a man reviled for refusing to allow Moses to take the Hebrew slaves from Egypt? There were times when Rick couldn't imagine living with those memories. Hell, it was hard enough for him to accept Ardeth's assertion that Rick was a Med-jai!
At the same time, he remembered what Ardeth told him on the dirigible, 'A man who will not accept his past has no future.' Or something like that. Something occurred to Rick then, and he looked at Ardeth quickly, asking, "That night on the dirigible, while we were tracking Imhotep. When you told me about accepting my past. . .warning me. You were talking. . .that was from personal experience. You couldn't remember your past lives. . .and that's why you warned me about not accepting my own."
"Aywa. I have known since I was a child that I was different from the others in my tribe, for I knew I had past lives, but couldn't remember them. The others remembered before they became warriors. You must understand, O'Connell, though it is difficult for you to accept. I do not speak merely to speak," Ardeth replied. Rick knew that. He gave his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze, not knowing what else to say.
Rick O'Connell was always better with his fists. And in this situation, words failed him anyhow. He would make things right with Ardeth, by giving him something no one in the Med-jai camp would ever think about giving him. A bachelor party. Yeah. That would work. He would convince Jonathan to hand over some of his booze. They couldn't have the girls, but they sure as hell could have the booze! Rick grinned to himself. Now there was an idea. Tonight, he would get Ardeth Bey drunk!
. . .
Ardeth thought the day couldn't get any worse. He was informed by his mother, when he couldn't find his fiancee, that the elders broke with tradition, and summoned Celia to their tent early this morning, before breakfast. They wished to hear what drew her to Ardeth. That was usually saved for the night before the wedding, but in light of her. . .unusual. . .ties to the Med-jai, the Elders changed their minds.
That wasn't the worst part of the morning. The worst part came shortly after his own meeting with the Elders, when he was ambushed by Sanure's mother. She lived among the Geban tribe with her second husband, and the previous night, after her confrontation with Celia, Sanure sent a message to her mother. The old witch was *not* pleased that Ardeth sided with his future wife, and wanted to make sure he knew it.
Not that he could have missed *that,* since she was practically screaming in his face. His training as a warrior conflicted with the courtesy promised to elders. On one hand, he was tempted to remove her screaming head from her body. On the other. . . Be that as it may, the current Med-jai matriarch swept in to defend her son and her future daughter-in-law. But not, unfortunately, before the biddy gave Ardeth the headaches to end all headaches. He was shooed from his mother's tent, with Altair Bey telling him to get something to eat before he fell over, and take the children with him.
After listening to Sanure's mother, spending time with the little ones was a pleasure. Miranda burrowed against his side, both seeking and giving comfort. He couldn't eat at first. . .his insides were churning with tension, and the idea of food made him sick. Once he relaxed, thanks to Dari's antics, he found he *was* hungry. After breakfast, Acacia and Aleta came for the children. Celia was seen talking to first the warriors, then O'Connell. It looked like an intense conversation (that was something of an understatement), and Aleta hadn't wanted to interrupt. Instead, she came for Miranda. Ardeth was alone again, and he finished his breakfast, before returning to his tent to go over information he received from the Twelve Commanders during their meetings.
And then came the conversation with O'Connell. The anger was gone, replaced with a bone deep weariness and some amusement. It wasn't his friend's fault, of course. He was trying to help, in a twisted sort of way. And Celia. Ardeth allowed himself a smile, thinking of what O'Connell told him. Celia fought back. She was worth every confrontation, every moment of dissent within the village. She fought back, not because he was the chieftain, but because she loved him.
And that old woman wanted him to cast her aside. Never. That was what his mother said. Altair Bey drew herself to her full height, dark eyes blazing with fury, and spat, "NEVER! My son will never put her aside, and nor should he! For the last sixteen years, he has given everything he possesses to the Twelve Tribes of the Med-jai. He has sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, and his own health. Celia brings him joy and laughter. You dare to accuse my son of being selfish. . .it is you who are selfish, denying my son even a small bit of happiness!"
Sanure's mother reared back, as if struck. She really wasn't that old. If Ardeth's memory served, she was about the same age as his own mother. But that was what Altair always called her. Never by her name, but 'that old woman.' And that woman now stared at Altair in shock. Ardeth relaxed a little more as he remembered his mother's part in the conversation. Anyone who thought his mother mellowed as she grew in age and in wisdom obviously wasn't present that morning.
Ardeth's mother smiled grimly, adding, "Now, remember this, and remember it well. . .old friend. I was here when your bitch daughter attacked my son's chosen bride. I was here when your brat grandchildren attacked my granddaughter. You were not. My only complaint with my future daughter is that she has been too patient. Yesterday, her patience ran out. Your daughter should be grateful that it was Cecelia whom she attacked. . .because Acacia and Aleta would have both slit her throat."
It was then that his mother shooed him from her tent, telling him to take the children with him. Altair Bey would forever see him as her son first, and the chieftain second. It was something that made him very grateful, even on those occasions when they butted heads. The knowledge that his family was still his family. Just as Celia would be his wife, regardless of whether he was just Ardeth. . .or if he was the chieftain.
Celia. Ardeth's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of his future bride wandering about the tents somewhat aimlessly. He strode toward her, wanting to spend some time with her before the Elders summoned him to their tent. She looked up as he approached and gave him a tired, wan smile. She said, "Ardeth. I was afraid I would have to wait until this afternoon to see you. Are you all right? You look exhausted."
Ardeth brushed away his weariness, and touched her cheek. She looked tired as well, and he said, "I am well, my love. But what of you? I heard about the Elders. . .and about O'Connell." Celia rolled her eyes, and Ardeth wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her in close. Perhaps that was not such a good idea. His body reacted instantly, and Ardeth swallowed hard. His trousers were feeling entirely too tight at the moment.
"The Elders turned out to be pussy-cats. I guess I convinced them that I do love you, and not your position. So, Rick told you about our little conversation, did he?" Celia asked, winding her arms around his waist. Ardeth stifled a groan. Yesterday was not so difficult, as they were in the cool water of the oasis, which took some of the edge of his desire. This, however, was different.
"He did. Just as he told me. . .how did you know, Celia?" Ardeth asked, trying to focus his mind on the conversation, rather than on his unruly body. Celia looked up at him questioningly, and that sent another bolt of desire through him. But Ardeth was unwilling to let go of her. He needed to hold her. Needed her in his arms, just as she was in his heart. Ardeth elaborated after a moment, "How did you know about. . ."
Then he had to search for the words he needed to use. It wasn't necessary. Celia smiled up at him and replied, "Because I know you. You are very. . .your devotion to your people is obvious. And I remember how you struggled with me, because you were afraid of giving me less than what you thought I deserve. I know that for you, giving your heart is much easier than giving your body, because giving your body is dangerous in ways that giving your heart is not."
Ardeth swallowed hard, especially when Celia released him and rested her small hands on his waist. She said softly, "I know that, the way I know that holding back is as hard for you as it is for me. I have barely more experience than you do, but I do know what that tension in your body means. We only have until tomorrow night, my prince, and then we will belong to each other for all eternity."
Ardeth looked around. . .ahhh, excellent. It was just them. Perhaps in time, he would be more comfortable with public displays of affection. That was something which his mother mentioned to him. . .his discomfort with public affection made the narrow-minded among his people think that Celia cast a spell on him. He, in turn, pointed out to his mother that it mattered little what he did, for those small-minded people would come up with the same conclusion.
His mother sighed her agreement. Ardeth couldn't fault her for her observation. She was trying to help. They were all trying to help. He looked back at Celia and asked hoarsely, "Then you will not object, my queen, if I give you a preview of tomorrow night, a short preview to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you?"
She smiled and lifted her face to his. Ardeth met her halfway, covering her mouth with his own. Each time he kissed her, it seemed as if their bodies melted together, regardless of their clothes. This time was no different, though Ardeth's mind was no longer capable of registering where he was or what he was doing, aside from kissing his beloved. He wasn't even aware whose body was more pliant against the other's.
And as it always was, the moment, the magic was shattered. This time, by a very unwelcome voice saying, "Ardeth? The Elders wish to see you. . .oh." Ardeth broke away from Celia reluctantly, a ragged moan of protest torn from his throat (or was it Celia's?) as he turned to face the soon to be dead young warrior. Hanif turned bright red with embarrassment, whether from what he interrupted or from the glare his chieftain was giving him. He stammered, "I am so sorry, Ardeth, but the Elders wish to see you."
"Go, love. I need to find Evelyn anyhow. I'll see you tonight at the celebration dinner," Celia whispered, her own voice hoarse. Ardeth looked deep into her eyes, seeing promises of what was to come. He leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead, whispering, 'I love you' in Arabic. She smiled faintly, answering, "You know, one of these days, you'll have to tell me what that means." Ardeth just smiled and released her, albeit reluctantly.
"One of these days, I will tell you," Ardeth promised, then turned his gaze on Hanif. The young warrior looked even more embarrassed, and the chieftain all but growled, "You will see her safely to Evelyn's tent." It was not a request, it was a statement of fact. Hanif bobbed his head, and Ardeth turned one last time to Celia. She smiled at him, and Ardeth almost melted. Before he could, however, he stalked off. *Just one more night,* he thought, *one more night!*
. . .
To say Hanif was embarrassed was a huge understatement. He was among the Med-jai who knew their queen well, and vowed to protect her for the joy she brought to their chieftain. He had no wish to interrupt Ardeth, but the Elders wanted him to join them. And failing to carry out a task for the Elders was *not* the best idea. On the other hand, interrupting their chieftain while he was with his beloved was an equally bad idea. But at least Celia wouldn't allow Ardeth to kill him.
They walked toward the O'Connell tent together, side by side, in silence. Hanif was worried about his queen. She was unusually quiet. Or, perhaps a better way of putting it was, she was more quiet than usual. Celia was never one to fill silences with mindless chatter, and over the weeks, Hanif learned to recognize her silences, just as he recognized Ardeth's silences. This was. . .Celia was troubled about something.
Ardeth told him to look after Celia, and by Hanif's reckoning, that also meant making sure she was all right in other ways. With that decided, he asked softly, almost shyly, "What troubles you, my queen? Is it the wedding ceremony tomorrow?" Celia looked up and smiled at him faintly, a troubled expression remaining in her lovely eyes. Hanif always became annoyed with women who criticized Celia for her hazel eyes. They were beautiful eyes, changing like the desert.
"I cannot give you the specifics, Hanif, but I was just given information, and I am trying to come to terms with it. It could tear apart a family, if the truth was learned. I must never allow this information to slip out. If that makes any sense," Celia finally replied. Hanif nodded. It did. Far more sense than he could acknowledge. But that part didn't matter, because his answer assured his queen that she could talk to him.
And that was exactly what she did. Celia continued, "This is a problem, because I can't tell Ardeth, and I don't like starting a marriage by keeping secrets. Even if it's one that doesn't directly affect the Med- jai. But, it's not my place to tell." Hanif understood all too well. She was being pulled in several different directions at the same time. Hanif experienced this himself, especially in recent weeks.
The Med-jai, though charged with an ancient, sacred duty, were human beings. Like all humans, they could be petty and vindicative. They could be selfish. . .indeed, was it not the very selfishness of Hamadi Bey which let to the casting of the hom-dai?
The young warrior slowly, "I understand, my lady. I find myself in a similar position, though not in the telling of a secret. But I am divided. Should I back my chieftain, who put his own body between us and the Anubis Warriors? Or do I listen to others in this camp who demand that my chieftain sacrifice his happiness by denying his heart? It angers me, that I must make such a choice." Hanif turned to face Celia more directly, hoping he could make her understand.
"They will continue to force you, Hanif," she replied, "because some will never accept me as Ardeth's wife. I know it. Ardeth knows it. You know it. I have heard those whispers, saying I should leave because my presence disrupts the Med-jai. I will tear apart this nation, because Ardeth loves me. But the truth is, their blindness will tear apart the Med- jai. They cannot accept any truth but their own, and that will destroy them. I just hope it doesn't destroy the Med-jai as well."
She turned away and began walking once more. Hanif thought about her words as he struggled to catch up. She was right, wasn't she? No matter how hard Celia tried, no matter how hard she worked, there were many in this camp who would never accept her. Nothing she would do would ever be good enough, because she was an American. . . because she wasn't Med-jai. They would always find reasons to criticize her.
As they walked side by side, Hanif said, "Then the next time they force me to choose. . .I will make my stand beside the chieftain of our people. Such things cannot continue. I have no desire to be part of the Med-jai, if such people are part of its future." Celia looked at him, and Hanif added, "I was suspicious of you at first. But I know you love Ardeth. I know you make him happy. And I know, if you were with us at Ahm Shere, you would have stood at his side."
He paused as they reached Evelyn's tent, then added, "Just as I know that your greatest detractors were not there when so many of our warriors died. I will speak to the other warriors. This will be my wedding gift to you, Celia. All I ask is that you take care of my leader." She smiled and touched his shoulder, then his cheek. And then she ducked into the tent, leaving Hanif alone. The young warrior bit his lip, thinking about the decision he just made.
It would not be an easy road. But nothing in the Med-jai way of life was ever easy, and this was no different. Perhaps that was why the nay- sayers, those who refused to give Celia a chance, annoyed him so much. They took the easy way out, rather than having the courage to acknowledge something good in something. . .someone. . .who was different. Hanif nodded to himself slowly, thinking through what came next.
First, he would speak to the warriors who just returned from patrol. He would tell them of what happened during the last few days. He would tell them of his own decision, and would invite them to stand with him at Ardeth's wedding ceremony. A wedding gift to the chieftain who fought so hard for their people, for their world. He didn't know how many warriors would stand with him, but he knew he had to find out.
And as for Sanure and her family. . .Hanif ground his teeth together. He could take no action against them, despite Sanure's latest act of perfidy. He was in practice with many other warriors, when that one's mother arrived in the camp and started haranguing Ardeth. Ahhh. That might be a better place to start. Hanif began to smile, remembering the looks which passed between the warriors, and the remarks made.
"It is fortunate for that old bitch that Ardeth is the chieftain, for I know many warriors who would have struck her down, regardless of her age," one said. He was somewhat older than Hanif, around Ardeth's own age. Another veteran of Ahm Shere, a survivor who buried two of his brothers, killed by the first wave of Anubis Warriors. He was also from one of the oldest families of the Med-jai, almost as old as Ardeth's own.
"Aywa. I was none too pleased with the chieftain's decision to marry an outsider, but that is not my decision," said another, "and the only things which keeps the chieftain from doing exactly what you suggest is the old woman's age, and he has no patience with those who attack women." He paused, then smirked as he added, "Besides. . .I saw her storm into Lady Altair's tent. And you know how Lady Altair is about such rudeness!"
The laughter which exploded from all men gathered was enough to draw glances, and the warriors set immediately to work. Hanif smiled. Yes. He would find the men with whom he was practicing this morning. He would tell them of the conversation with Celia. And see how many of those had the courage to stand with him. There would only be one holdout, that he knew of. Sanure's own husband, Rami.
He tried to speak once, only to be silenced with jeers from the other men. Hanif's own partner, Aaqil, was the loudest. He was also the oldest out of the group, as he was a contemporary of Andreas Bey. Aaqil jibed, "Ho, he wishes to speak! I can tell you this, my *brother,* I would rather see our chieftain marry the pale outsider than your bully bitch of a wife. Yes, I called your wife a bully, for that is what she is!"
Rami started toward Aaqil, his dark eyes flashing with fury. He found any insult to his wife unacceptable, as he loved her dearly. Why, Hanif had no idea, but love could be just as blind as hatred. Aaqil continued in a taunting voice, "And now, the entire camp knows what my baby sister has known for years." Hanif flinched, but couldn't blame Aaqil for the dig. Not when his partner's younger sister Anissa miscarried her first child because of Sanure's hair-trigger temper years earlier.
It was the first time in the history of the twelve tribes that such a thing occurred. Hanif was just a child, around the same age as Ardeth's niece when it happened. But he had vague memories of hearing his parents talk about it. It enraged the entire camp, and served to turn many against the spoiled only daughter of Tamar, wife of the Geban second. Indeed, there were many Med-jai who wished to see Sanure die for what she did.
Hanif's mother feared such a thing. If Sanure could die for what she did, what would happen if the stress caused by an argument caused a woman to go into premature labor? At the time, his mother had a hard time believing that Sanure could have meant to harm Anissa or her unborn child. Perhaps she was very young herself at the time. He only knew that after Andreas was killed, his mother turned against both the mother and daughter whom so many hated. Why that was the catalyst, Hanif didn't know.
Only her mother's position within the Twelve Tribes prevented Andreas from kicking the bitch out. Since he couldn't do that, he did the next best thing. He demanded, and received, the word of Sanure's step-father that Anissa's husband would have the chance to choose Sanure's husband for her. Yusuf, enraged over the loss of his daughter and nearly losing his wife because of Sanure's jealousy, chose a warrior younger than Sanure who was believed to be impotent.
Even now, years after the birth of their first child, there were many who believed Sanure was unfaithful. Rami, for all his flaws, was a loving and protective husband. And regardless of his own temper, he did not deserve to be cuckolded by his wife. No one could prove it, of course, but the whispers remained. They probably always would. Hanif bit his lip once more. On second thought, he wouldn't visit the warriors first. Instead, he would visit Anissa. Yes. That was a good place to start.
. . .
Unfortunately for Hanif, he wasn't the first person to think about that. Acacia Bey made that decision after she and Anck-su-namun paid Sanure a little visit. It felt good, putting Sanure in her place, which should have been done years earlier. Now, Acacia sat in Anissa's tent. Eighteen years passed since the attack which caused Anissa's miscarriage, and while she moved on, the resentment and bitterness remained.
Yes, Anissa did know about what happened the previous night, and she was pleased that it was the chieftain's (future) wife who finally put Sanure in her place, even if she was an outsider. Anissa hadn't met Celia yet, but she was looking forward to it. She sounded like someone whom Anissa would like. . .quiet on the outside, but with a steel interior which made anyone who tangled with her family regret it.
Of course Anissa would like her. . .in many ways, Celia was like Anissa's sixteen year old daughter Ishtar, her greatest joy and greatest exasperation. Acacia looked forward to the meeting between Celia and Ishtar. In fact. . .that gave the Med-jai princess an idea. Acacia leaned forward and asked, "Anissa, what does your daughter say about my youngest brother? He is still unwed, you know." Anissa's answering smile told her what she needed to know, but Anissa went further than Acacia anticipated.
"Well, I'm sure you realize that many young maidens were quite disappointed when Ardeth announced his decision to marry. Ishtar was no different, though he is twice her age. However, I have noticed her looking at young Anatol in the last few weeks. Do you believe your brother would be good to my girl?" Anissa asked. In many ways, Anissa reminded Acacia of her own mother. Altair's first priority was the happiness of her children. Politics would always come second.
"Let us find out, shall we? Anissa, I wish you to join us. You and Ishtar, for tonight is the dance," Acacia replied. Anissa's eyes glittered at the mention of the dance. It was a dance of celebration, performed each time a Med-jai couple were married. It had one other function, as it was a dance to grant the new couple many children. After Anissa lost her daughter, the Bey women danced again outside Anissa's tent. They could not undo what was done. . .but they could appeal to the gods to give Anissa another child.
"Do you believe, Acacia, that your sister-in-law would dance with us?" Anissa asked, raising a brow. Acacia felt a familiar stirring of excitement. She hadn't even thought of that, but yes! Why not! She smiled at the woman brilliantly, and saw her own excitement reflected in Anissa's eyes. The other woman whispered, "You *do* think so! But why? Why would she, how could she, when she knows not the dance?"
"That is where you are incorrect, my friend," Acacia replied, grinning positively impishly, "that is incorrect, because she is the reincarnation of Lady Ardath, she who gave us this dance. And once we start dancing, she will remember." Anissa's eyes widened, and Acacia wondered briefly how it was that Anissa didn't know about Celia's past lives among the Med-jai, then she dismissed the question. It was not important.
Anissa called, "Ishtar! Ishtar, my daughter, come!" Anissa's daughter entered her mother's portion of their tent, her long black hair hanging free. Anissa held out her hand to her daughter and said, "Our princess has come to ask us to dance for her brother and his queen tomorrow, my daughter. Would you like to dance for Ardeth and his Celia, my Ishtar? Would you like to dance at the side of Lady Ardath's reincarnation?"
Ishtar looked at her in wonderment, whispering, "So it is true? What they say? That our chieftain weds the reincarnation of our mother?" Acacia noted that Ardath was called the mother of the Med-jai by a new generation, just as she and Aleta did. The young woman nodded, and Ishtar continued, her excitement growing, "Do you think she will remember? Do you think she will remember the dance she gave us?"
"I believe she will. Ishtar. . .yesterday, my sister-in-law stood up to Sanure. She not only stood up to her, but she had Sanure on her knees, with Celia's dagger at her throat. Eighteen years ago, Sanure caused your mother to miscarry your older sister when she ran her horse directly at your mother because Sanure wished to marry your father," Acacia replied.
This was ancient history, of course, taking place long before Ishtar was even born. But it was necessary to remind the girl, for it led into what came next. Acacia continued, "My sister-in-law faces a people who consider her less because she is not Med-jai. I wish all to know that there are Med-jai who will stand with my brother and his wife." As it turned out, it was unnecessary to remind Ishtar of what occurred the day before.
"I was there, my princess. I was there, when that woman tried to attack our chieftain's chosen. I was there when your lady mother warned all within this tribe that she supported her son's choice. I would be honored to dance for the woman who avenged my sister," Ishtar hissed. She gave a malevolent little smile, adding, "And I will get my friends to dance for our chieftain and our new queen as well."
Acacia could ask for no more. According to tradition was, the more people who danced for the couple, the more children they would have. It didn't always work. . . sometimes there were many dancers, but few children. But never, in all the time Med-jai women danced for their newlyweds, was a child not born of that union. Acacia didn't know what kind of powerful magic was in that dance, but she knew it worked.
"Ishtar, my love," Anissa suggested with an equally evil smile, "why don't you invite Vashti to dance as well? I should think she would welcome a chance for redemption." Vashti was the child who spat on Celia's boots during the tour, the child whom Anck-su-namun dumped a tent on. And Acacia watched in amazement as Ishtar's smile grew all the more evil. She hadn't thought that was possible.
"Oh, that would be excellent, Mother! She has been pouting ever since the concubine's ghost dropped the tent on her head. . .and ever since her mother forced her to apologize to Ardeth and his lady. I'll go at once and ask them all. Thank you, princess!" Ishtar exclaimed. She bounced out after giving her mother a kiss, and Acacia watched her in amazement. She looked back at Anissa, who just laughed.
"We cannot accept the blind to accept your sister-in-law, my princess. But we can show the blind that we accept our new queen. Tell me, Acacia, does this young American woman take good care of your brother? Does she make sure he eats?" Anissa asked. Acacia nodded, remembering how her mother helped Celia to make a tray for Ardeth when he was meeting with his Commanders.
"She does. In fact, she stands up to O'Connell on a regular basis. I don't believe she will intervene where Hamunaptra is concerned, but Rick O'Connell is another story entirely," Acacia replied. She paused, thinking about her mother's words once more, then continued, "And. . .He Who Shall Not Be Named. Imhotep. If he is to ever become human once more, then I think Celia will have a hand in it."
Anissa smiled humorlessly, replying, "Well, if she can turn the Creature back into a human being, then she definitely deserves our chieftain. . .you know, I'm sure, that even those of us who are happily married care for your brother. We care a great deal for him, and we always will." Acacia inclined her head in agreement, and Anissa continued, "He is very special. He always has been, even as a little boy trailing behind Andreas."
Acacia flinched at this reminder of her brother, dead for so many years. However, Anissa wasn't finished. Like Celia, she didn't say much, but when she did speak, it was best to listen to what she was thinking. Anissa observed, "Ardeth deserves a wife who is equally special. Although, to be honest, I doubt if even this reincarnation of Lady Ardath is special enough to make the Creature human once more."
"There was a time when I thought the same," Acacia admitted, "just as I thought I could never consider Anck-su-namun to be an ally. But things have changed lately, and now. . .now I believe anything is possible, my friend. In Hamunaptra, Celia broke the hom-dai as part of a bargain. She would break the hom-dai, if the Creature helped to save my brother. She kept that bargain. . .with her own blood. Anything is possible."
"Perhaps. We shall see. And tonight, I shall dance with you. May your brother and his Celia have many healthy, happy, strong children, Acacia. And may your sister-in-law never know the pain of losing a child," Anissa replied, her voice cracking. Acacia inclined her head, and quietly took her leave of the woman. There were days when Anissa still mourned her lost child. It was accepted. That pain would never go away. And when it was strongest. . .Anissa was best if no one outside her family saw her tears.
Once outside the tent, Acacia wiped her own tears away. She knew she still had a lot of work to do before the dance tonight. She had to make sure all the robes and dresses were finished. She had to help Aleta set the perimeter for the dance. But first, she would find her children and hug them until they protested. It was always the same after speaking with Anissa. She always needed to be with her children after being with Anissa.