Hey y'all. . .this will be the last update for about a week. I'll be
visiting my best friend up in Virginia. I'll be taking my laptop, just in
case I have time to write while I'm there. Maybe, if the muses cooperate
(along with the munchkins), I'll have the story finished when I get back.
Sailor Elf: I knew what you meant, it's okay. What I was trying to say (and this is why I try not to post or respond to email when I'm tired), is that I'm flattered that you reacted as you did. It means I accomplished what I was going for.
Deana: Yeah, and it gets freakier. Just wait until Ardeth starts reliving some of the ugliest moments of his life. Then we'll really see freaky.
Nakhti: Well. . .honestly, I don't usually write such long stories. 'The Forever Friends' was one of the longest stories I've ever written, second only to my own sequel to the 1993 Three Musketeers movie, and it was an experiment. But don't you dare give up. The size of the fic is irrelevant. Quality is the important thing, and from what I've seen of your writing, you really should keep going. I actually tried to break 'The Forever Friends' down into two smaller fics, but they wouldn't cooperate with me. That was long. . .but I have two UC fics in the planning stages, which are monster fics, both of which combine characters from four or five fandoms. Those two will be a headache!
Part Six
The nap did her a world of good, though Evy could have happily lived without the dreams. When she woke up, she felt sad. . .depressed even. . .because of the dreams she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember the dreams, which meant they weren't visions or memories. The details weren't important. Just a feeling that she couldn't shake. She shook herself, and went to the kitchen.
It was seven pm, long past time for dinner, though Evy was sure no one was in the mood to eat tonight. Still, she determined that they needed to keep up their strength. As sick as Ardeth was, he needed them to be *his* strength, and since Evy couldn't shake the feeling she was responsible for his condition, she was resolute that she wouldn't fail him again. Something simple which would keep their strength up, if not their spirits.
As she fixed soup and sandwiches, Evy thought about her dream. She could remember no details, just an overwhelming sadness, and a sense that Ardeth had no idea how important he was to all of them. *Maybe,* she thought, *he doesn't. Maybe he really doesn't realize how desperately we need him. Not just to save our sorry bums when we do something stupid. . .but to remind us that all isn't lost.*
He wasn't always like that, of course. She smiled to herself, remembering how he believed things were the beginning of the end, during Imhotep's first rising. He was so sure that it was over, and yet, he refused to quit. How on earth did she manage to misjudge that extraordinary man? Because she was young and stupid, that was how. She still had a great deal of learning to do, but she was getting there. *Yes,* she decided, *that's what we'll do. We'll start telling Ardeth how much he means to us all.*
"I thought I. . .EVY! Dash it all, what do you think you're doing, old mum?" Jonathan yelped. Evy uttered a little shriek, spinning around to face her older brother. She was lucky. The movement took her away from the stove, which was lucky indeed, as she pressed up against the cabinets. Jonathan glared at her, the water basin firmly in hand, and exclaimed, "You shouldn't be exerting yourself like this, old mum! It's bad enough that Ardeth is down, we don't need you going into premature labor!"
"OOOH! I am *pregnant,* Jonathan, I am not dying! I can still fix a meal, since none of you will let me take care of Ardeth! I love him, too, you know! I'm just as frightened as the rest of you!" Evy exclaimed, stamping her foot. It was a childish thing to do, and the baby kicked in protest. Her hormones were veering madly out of control, and she collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands as the tears came.
Immediately, Jonathan dropped the basin on the floor and knelt in front of her. He said contritely, putting his hands on her knees, "There now, old mum, don't cry! I didn't mean to upset you. . .you just scared me. And we all know how much you love Ardeth, you tell us in a thousand ways without ever saying a word. We know you're frightened too. . .it's just that we want to take care of you, and Ardeth."
"But don't you see, Jonathan," Evy sobbed, "it's my fault, somehow! I can't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be happening to Ardeth if it weren't for something I did! He and Celia saved my life, they saved the baby, and now Ardeth is unconscious and sick! He got sick after the Guardians attacked, and the Guardians wouldn't have attacked if I left that damn stupid necklace where I found it!"
Jonathan awkwardly put his arms around her shoulders, drawing her head to rest against his chest. It was awkward, because of her belly, but Jonathan drew her into a fierce embrace which encompassed both her and Nefertiri. Happily, it settled Evy's agitated daughter. And still, Evy sobbed. Jonathan stroked her hair, whispering, "It's all right, old mum. This is Ardeth. Imhotep couldn't kill him, the Scorpion King couldn't kill him, and nor could Khaldun. He'll beat this, too, just like he beat everything else."
Evy hiccuped, hoping the motion wouldn't get Nefertiri agitated all over again. Her luck held, and Evy whispered, "I don't know, Jonathan. I just don't know, and that's what frightens me so much! I keep feeling that he doesn't realize how much he means to all of us, and it's so important that he does know! I want his eyes open, Jonathan, I want his eyes open and I want him sparring with Rick, or kissing Celia, or something! I love him so much, Jonathan, and I can't imagine our lives without him. I don't want to try."
Evy was too caught up in the horror of the current situation, so it never occurred to her that she used similar words more than nine months earlier, while she, Jonathan, Rick and Ardeth were tracking down Alex in Izzy's dirigible. Then, she was trying to tell Rick just how frightened she was for their little boy. That was a private conversation, so Jonathan didn't hear it. But the truth was there, nonetheless.
Still holding her shoulders, Jonathan pulled back and said quietly, "We'll get him back, Evy. I told you. . .this is Ardeth we're discussing. We won't let him go without a fight, and I think it's time he knew that. So you just sit here, and catch your breath. I'll get the sandwiches together, put water and ice in the basin for Rick. And then, my darling baby sister, we'll bring Ardeth home to us!"
Evy lifted her tear-stained face, to find hope and faith shining in her brother's eyes, to match the determination, the certainty, in his voice. He meant every word he said. When did her big brother become this determined man? Was she even looking at the time, or did she miss it? In the end, it didn't matter. As she had when Rick promised they would get Alex back, she smiled weakly and whispered, "I know we will."
. . .
Upstairs in Ardeth's room, the Med-jai's fever steadily rose over the next half hour. It took Jonathan a little longer than anticipated to return with the basin and the ice, and in the meantime, Celia fanned Ardeth with whatever she could find. She was resourceful, Rick would give her that. A resourceful pain in the ass, but Rick knew he had no room to talk. Especially not when it came to being a pain in the ass.
Though the water on Ardeth's skin was drying, the fanning would cool him down a little more. At the very least, it would buy them some time. It wouldn't solve the problem, but sometimes, buying time was all you could ask for. Rick joined his friend's wife, using whatever happened to be handy. Celia used a neat little trick. . .folding a sheet of paper from a notebook several times. Once she noticed him helping, Celia made another one and they set to work.
But it did no good. Ardeth's temperature still rose. After Jonathan returned with the basin, he left once more. Evy was making a light supper for everyone, and Jonathan wanted to make sure she didn't overdo it. Rick was silently grateful. Both Evy and Ardeth needed him right now, but he could only take care of one. Besides, so long as she wasn't in here, the chances of Evy going into premature labor were slim.
Rick would take her shift. . .that was his way of taking care of her. And Celia hadn't spoken since she questioned Rick about Beni's betrayal. It was just as well, since Rick wasn't sure if he could answer her. Was he punishing Ardeth? He didn't want to believe he was that unreasonable. Okay, maybe he was a little angry at Ardeth for watching from the cliffs. But he didn't betray Rick. He didn't even *know* him the time! Besides, Rick had to admit that he would have done the same thing.
He thought about that as they worked. He sponged, Celia fanned. It was almost eight pm when Ardeth took a turn. At first, Rick thought he was improving, because he was murmuring in his sleep. That was promising, given how little noise he made earlier. It soon became apparent, however, that this wasn't good. Ardeth wasn't waking up. . .he was sliding into delirium. This was a very bad thing, as Rick knew, for two reasons.
First and foremost, the higher Ardeth's fever went, the more likely he would have seizures or convulsions. That was a *very* bad thing. Two, if the fever didn't break in time, there was a chance he would end up with brain damage, and they really didn't want that, either. Little time was spent discussing how he got so terribly sick, in such a short amount of time. . .they were more worried about bringing the fever down.
Nor would Rick consider calling the doctor. He had the uneasy sense that calling a doctor would be of no use. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but it was there. And around eight pm, he was proven correct. Ardeth went very, very still, and Rick and Celia exchanged a glance. Rick whispered, "Do you think. . .?" He never finished the sentence, because Ardeth screamed in agony, his body arching up off the bed.
Rick was still reeling from Ardeth's scream. . .he barely registered Celia crying out, "Hold him down!" But he saw her climb all the way onto the bed, holding Ardeth's legs in place with her body weight, and he grabbed Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth screamed again, crying out in Arabic. Rick flinched as he mentally translated what his suffering friend was saying.
From the sound of it, Ardeth was reliving the day his brother died and his own torture at the hands of Lock-nah and his men. No seventeen year old boy should know such things, not even a young warrior. And the fact that it was Ardeth. . .refined even when he was angry (usually). . .made it worse. To his relief, Celia didn't ask what was said. Ardeth screamed again, and Rick bit his lip, his arms aching. Ardeth was very sick, but very strong. Or maybe it was the delirium which increased his strength. As his body bucked again, Celia lost her balance and hit the ground.
Rick screamed, "JONATHAN!" But Jonathan was either on his way already, or ran when he heard Celia hit the ground, because a heartbeat after Rick screamed for his brother-in-law, Jonathan dashed through the door and pinned Ardeth's legs to the bed once more. Their friend's back arched up off the bed, and he screamed. Rick closed his eyes and bit his lip again, trying to fight back tears at the sound his friend made.
God, he wanted those terrible screams to stop! Rick winced as another stream of invectives filled the air, but he held tight. Ardeth stopped his struggles, gasping for breath, and Rick took advantage of that respite to assume a more effective position. He lifted his friend up and slid in behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Ardeth's chest and arms. Not a moment too soon, because Ardeth began fighting him once more.
"My God, what's happening?" Evy cried out, appearing in the doorway. Rick almost groaned, partly from the elbow Ardeth just threw into his ribs (trust Ardeth to fight dirty), and partly from exasperation at his wife's arrival. Her timing couldn't have been worse. Her eyes widened and she cried out, "Stop it, you'll hurt him!" Alex darted out from behind his mother, and ran to Celia, who was still on the floor.
"Not quite, old mum," Jonathan grunted, pinning Ardeth with his own body weight. Rick glanced at his brother-in-law, who made sure Ardeth couldn't knee him. Jonathan continued, "We're trying to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Alex, help up Auntie Celia." The little boy helped Celia away from the bed, though she wasn't standing up. Her face was ashen with fear, and Alex's arms were wrapped around her.
Rick thought things couldn't get any worse. He thought just hearing Ardeth scream was bad enough, just seeing his friend's face contort in pain was bad enough. It can always get worse. The cries gave way to muted sobbing. Rick choked back a sob of his own, holding tightly to his friend, as Ardeth called out to his long-dead father. Begging his forgiveness for not being a better son, a better brother, a better Med-jai.
Rick didn't know what to do. He held Ardeth, his heart breaking at the pain in Ardeth's voice. His eyes fell on his son, who was wrapped in Celia's arms just as surely as she was wrapped in his. Alex, who was only four years younger than Ardeth was when he lost his father, who watched his mother die once and almost watched his father die as well. What would Rick want his son to know, if he died before Alex was a man?
He ignored his own anger with Suleiman Bey, for not treasuring his child as every child deserved to be cherished, for dying while his son still needed him so much. Instead, he focused on his friend, his brother, his royal pain in the ass, and damn if Rick didn't want it that way. He whispered in Arabic, "Shhh. . .there is nothing to forgive, Ardeth. No man could have asked for a better son than you. . .if anyone should apologize, it is I, for leaving you before I could tell you that. Forgive me, my son. . .I love you so much."
"Papa? You are not angry with me?" Ardeth asked. Rick looked at Evy, and saw tears running down her face. For his own part, the American wasn't sure whether the wetness on his own face was the result of tears or sweat. Why was Rick so surprised by this side to his friend? Ardeth was just a child when his father died. . .in his heart, where his father was concerned, he was still that little boy. And he always would be.
"No, my son," Rick answered, "I am not. You did the very best you could. You protected your little brother. This is not your fault. Rest now, my son. Rest and regain your strength. . .your little brother and your sisters need you. And never forget how much I love you." As he spoke the last three words, he glared at Evy, remembering all the times she pressed him to admit just how much Ardeth meant to them both.
She just offered him a faint smile. Evy approached the bed and gently stroked Ardeth's black hair, then kissed his forehead. She whispered in the same language, "Sleep now, my sweet boy. Sleep and let us take care of you." Ardeth gave a sleepy sigh, then went limp in Rick's arms. The husband and wife stared at each other. Rick was unwilling to let Ardeth go just yet. But the decision was taken out of his hands by yet another unforeseen turn of events.
Evy sighed, "He's finally asleep, the poor thing. Alex, I. . .oh god." The last two words were whimpered. Rick's head jerked up, to see his wife's face tighten with pain. Her hand went to her abdomen, and Evy whispered, her voice strained, "Oh dear. . .oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Not now. . .this is really not a good time for you to be coming out, darling!" Rick just stared at his wife in shock. This couldn't be happening now!!!!!!!!!!!
. . .
NOW WHAT????? Jonathan released his grip on Ardeth, now that the Med- jai passed out, and turned toward his sister. She slumped back against the wall, her hand moving in soothing circles on her belly, as if she was trying to convince her daughter. . .OH MY GOD! Jonathan's jaw dropped open. The baby! Rick was still cradling their friend against his chest, even as he stared at Evy, looking panicked. Jonathan could hardly blame him. Alex asked, his voice cracking with fear, "Mum? Auntie Celia?"
Jonathan tore his eyes away from his sister, and looked at Celia, who was gently disengaging herself from Alex's arms. She gently ruffled his dark blond hair, then put her arms around Evy. Jonathan's sister leaned on her gratefully. Celia said softly, "Let's get you back to bed, Evy. . .it'll be all right. Rick and Jonathan can take care of Ardeth. Alex, come with me and we'll take care of your mom."
Her legs still shook, Jonathan saw, but she was steadier on her feet at the moment than poor Evy, whose face was still very pale, almost as pale as Ardeth's. Alex followed the two women from the room, still looking worried. Rick almost went after them, until Ardeth slumped sideways, and Rick was forced to catch him. Jonathan said weakly, "I think you might want to remove yourself from your current position first, Rick."
The other man glared at him, but it definitely wasn't the worst Look Jonathan ever received. Still, Rick gently eased Ardeth forward, then slipped out from behind the Med-jai, still holding his shoulders. He almost tripped in the process, and Jonathan very carefully bit back the laugh which tried to bubble up at the comical picture presented. Rick *really* wouldn't have appreciated the humor in it, of course.
Once he was clear, Rick lay Ardeth back against the pillows, and Jonathan didn't know whether he should be relieved or worried when Ardeth groaned softly. Rick froze, looking at his friend in concern. He was seated on the bed beside the unconscious Med-jai, his hands gripping Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth whispered something in Arabic that Jonathan didn't understand, but he did understand the look on Rick's face.
And *that* didn't bode well for someone. Rick growled, "Jonathan, get me a chair. I'm not leaving his side until he gets through this." Jonathan moved hesitantly from the room, unwilling to leave Ardeth alone with Rick in this state. At least, until he heard Rick whisper in a broken voice, "God, buddy. . .if I ever find any of Lock-nah's men are still alive, I swear to you, they'll pay for what they did to that boy!"
*He means the seventeen year old boy whom my child was once,* Ardath said quietly. Jonathan looked around, to find her standing just to his left. Her arms were folded over her chest as she stared at Ardeth. The black wig was gone, as was the headdress she often wore to state functions. She continued, *My child told your brother-in-law what those men did to him. They went far beyond whipping him, though that's the only thing everyone else knows about.*
Jonathan had a feeling he didn't want to know what *exactly* those monsters did. Instead, he focused on finding that chair. Oh drat! The nearest chair was in the master bedroom. Oh well, this would give him a chance to check on Evy. Ardath whispered, *I do not wish to tell you. But search your imagination, my friend. Search your mind for the most devastating way to humiliate a boy of seventeen. To. . .to violate him without violation. And there will be the answer for your brother-in-law's rage.*
Jonathan still didn't want to think about that, and Ardath whispered, *I wish I had that luxury, my friend. But I watched what they did, and I could do nothing for him. I could do nothing, not even ease his pain. All I could do was help him forget.* She turned to look at him more fully, and said softly, *A thousand deaths are not nearly enough for Lock-nah or his second in command, Nizam Toth.*
Nizam Toth? The ghost continued, *Tiyu. Also called the Dark Med- jai. He was a contemporary of Suleiman Bey. In exchange for immortality and eternal youth, he betrayed Ardeth's father. He is still out there, Jonathan. He is. . .a contingency plan, a player left in place in Cairo, in case Imhotep failed at Ahm Shere. He did fail, and now, it is just a question of when Toth will make his move against my people.*
Ardath raised her eyes to look at Jonathan more fully as they headed for Evy's room, and the air left his lungs in a rush at the hatred he saw there. Ardath hated Nizam Toth as much as she hated Khaldun. The only thing which angered Ardath was. . .no. His mind shut down at the memories provided to him through Nassor. The only times when Nassor saw Ardath in a true rage, in a blinding fury in which she was totally incapable of being unreasonable was when. . . Dear God. Oh dear God.
"And he's a threat to the Med-jai?" Jonathan asked, his voice quavering. This evil, evil man was in a position to cause great harm to Jonathan's family. Nizam Toth would care only that Rick bore the mark of the Med-jai. Danger for Rick automatically meant danger for Evy and the children. Ardath nodded, and Jonathan muttered, "Damn." His ghostly companion allowed herself a faint smile, one which held no mirth. It was a mere twist of her lips, but it said more than words could.
*He is, and even as we speak, he is amassing a new force. He knows not that Imhotep was raised once again. . .like Lock-nah, Toth never had use for Khaldun. Not because he had any great respect for those whom Khaldun harmed, but because to him, Khaldun was a joke. No, Toth is a problem in and of himself. My greatest fear is that he will resurrect Lock- nah, and then my child will be in danger,* Ardath answered.
Jonathan looked at her quickly as they reached Evy's room. He asked, "They can resurrect Lock-nah? How? His body was lost at Ahm Shere, when it was sucked into the sand!" Again, Ardath offered him a smile which wasn't truly a smile, and Jonathan remembered what they were discussing. Imhotep rose three times now, and Anck-su-namun came back twice. . .once at Hamunaptra, and once in the body of her reincarnation Meela. The Englishman muttered, "Right, never mind, I didn't ask that."
*Tis all right, Jonathan. . .I do understand. You are afraid for your sister and her children. One of whom is your child,* Ardath commented. Jonathan almost gave himself whiplash, looking at his companion. She smiled for real this time, and said, *Did you really think I never noticed the similarities between you and little Alexander? His hair is only a few shades lighter than yours, and he has blue eyes, just as you do. The reason he is so similar to Nefertiri reborn is because she is your sister, of course.*
She paused and looked just past him, saying softly, *I must go now, and I know you wish to check on your sister. Know this, old friend. Though I have gone to the Afterlife, I still watch over all of you. I will always be here when you need me. When all of you need me. But right now, someone else needs me. Blessings upon you, my dear friend. . .and you have my thanks and my respect for taking care of my child.*
She gave him another smile, then disappeared. Jonathan shook his head, muttering, "She has to be Ardeth's ancestress. . .she talks just like him!" There was an amused peal of laughter greeting that remark, and as he so often did when Ardath laughed at him, Jonathan added, "You were meant to hear that!" He was on the verge of knocking on Evy's door when that blasted wench Anck-su-namun passed through.
"Oh bloody hell, what were you doing in there, trying to finish what you started at Ahm Shere?" Jonathan demanded of the newcomer. Much to his shock, a hurt look crossed the newcomer's face. . .but even after a stoic mask settled across the beautiful features, hurt lingered in her eyes. Jonathan tried to ignore the guilt he felt at causing pain, because this wench didn't deserve his compassion.
"I was seeing to Nefertiri reborn and Celia. I was. . .resting. . .when Ardeth's screams woke me. I wished to make sure everyone was all right, and gravitated to where Celia was. I did not realize that Nefertiri feared she was in labor," Anck-su-namun replied, her head held high. Jonathan didn't want to admire her for her strength. And a moment later, that was driven out of his mind when he realized what she said.
He repeated, "She *thought* she was in labor? She and the baby are all right?" Anck-su-namun dipped her head, and Jonathan sagged against the wall, muttering, "It was false labor. Oh thank God. . .I don't think we could have dealt with Ardeth being sick and Evy being in labor in the same time. I don't think Rick could have ever forgiven Ardeth for taking him away from Evy when he was needed most."
It was an innocent comment, so to speak. But it had the effect of thoroughly infuriating Anck-su-namun. Her dark eyes flashed with rage as she spat, "And your brother by marriage would no doubt be that selfish! Ardeth did not *choose* to become ill, Nassor reborn! He became ill because of that fight with the Guardians! He became ill because he was defending your sister from her own mistakes!"
Jonathan's first instinct, of course, was to defend Evy. She was, after all, his baby sister, and protecting her was his duty. Right along with teasing her. But then Anck's words sank in, and he realized why Ardeth was so ill. He was told about the scratch on Ardeth's palm, the scratch he received when one of the Guardians grazed him with his dagger. His dagger, which must have been dipped in poison.
"Tiyu. But do not ask me which kind, for I do not know. I would tell you. I would do anything in my power to save Ardeth. But this I do not know," Anck replied quietly. Jonathan wanted to scoff, but he remembered the reunion he viewed in Hamunaptra months earlier, the reunion between Anck and Lady Ardath. However she might have felt about the Med- jai at one time, he knew that Anck loved Ardeth.
"So if we don't find out what poison was on that dagger. . .we will lose Ardeth?" Jonathan asked. Anck hesitated, then nodded. Jonathan swallowed hard, then he asked, "And. . .what do we do?" But he knew the answer. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't know. Only a short time earlier, Jonathan vowed to his sister that they wouldn't let Ardeth go without a fight. He now knew that a fight was exactly what they faced.
. . .
"Feeling better?"
The voice came from the bathroom, where Celia disappeared only a few minutes earlier for a washcloth. Evy O'Connell looked up at her best friend and managed a weak smile. She couldn't remember ever being that frightened before. She was terrified, yes, when Rick raced the sun to save Alex. Beyond terrified. But Alex wasn't inside her, and for some reason, that made all the difference in the world.
She could feel Nefertiri's desire to get out into this world, as well as the baby's agitation, the agitation which she picked up from the mother. Evy didn't want to leave Ardeth. He needed them all. He needed their strength, their love. But, she was reminded, her daughter also needed her. And so, she allowed Celia to lead her out of the room, concentrating on calming herself and her child.
Her companion was a great help in this. Celia kept her voice low and soothing, talking to Nefertiri as if she was already there. She kept her hand in the small of Evy's back, and the Englishwoman was ashamed at the way she leaned against her companion. But Celia had strength to spare at the moment. Celia's voice soothed Nefertiri, and Evy had to wonder why. It was almost as if Celia was familiar to Nefertiri somehow.
And really, Evy wouldn't have blamed Celia for resenting her. Her friend needed to be with her husband, just as he needed her, but she was here. Sitting beside Evy at first, calming both mother and child with a lullabye drawn from the memories of Lady Ardath. Evy knew this, because she found the same song in the memories of Princess Nefertiri, and she hummed along until the contractions stopped. Eventually, she retreated to the bathroom for a washcloth to mop up the sweat on Evy's face.
"I'm feeling more than a little foolish, but my little girl is no longer in a hurry to join us. I'm so sorry, Celia, I know you want to be with Ardeth right now, I. . ." Evy began. Celia gave her a faint grin, squeezing Evy's hand again, and the pair fell silent. Evy thought about Ardeth again, and her eyes smarted with tears. Just when she thought she knew all the sides to Ardeth Bey which existed, another one made an appearance.
This time, she encountered the child who feared he failed his father. Evy longed to do much more than just kiss his forehead, and pretend to be his mother, but that would wait until after Nefertiri was born. Celia said unexpectedly, "Did I ever tell you about the night Miranda was born? I know I told you about Carstairs and how that came to be, but I don't think I ever told you about that night."
Evy shook her head, and Celia began, "A lot of storytellers begin their tales with the words, 'it was a dark and stormy night.' It invokes images in your head. After a while, those words lose their impact, because they've been used so much. So many horrors take place in the broad daylight. But this was a night just like that. I went into labor after an argument with Jason. I don't even remember what it was about. The phones were out, and I. . . things were a bit blurry."
Evy squeezed Celia's hand, and her friend went on, "I just remember. . .the pain. Lying at the bottom of the stairs, and not sure how I got there. I realized later that I was coming downstairs, because I heard knocking at the front door. But when I reached the last stair, I collapsed in pain. I actually lost consciousness. . .when I opened my eyes, my mother was there. She came to check on me, because of that argument with Jason."
Evy didn't make a noise, didn't even move. Celia didn't talk about her parents, and when Jason did, it was never pleasant. Celia continued, "I remember her half-dragging, half-carrying me into the next room. She kept saying. . .'not again, no, you can't have her.' She was crying, Evy. My mother, who never paid attention to me unless I did something she didn't like. . .was crying. Crying, and telling me that she loved me, she always loved me, and she always would love me. I thought I was dreaming."
Celia raised her eyes to Evy's, and she whispered, "She died that night, as my daughter was born. She ran into the street to get help for me. For the daughter who was such a disappointment to her." Evy swallowed hard, tears now stinging her eyes. Celia sighed, "The housekeeper delivered Miranda. The birth was difficult. I was in labor for hours, but she was a good midwife and there was no scarring, not too much bleeding."
"It wasn't your fault, Celia," Evy whispered, "your mother's death. It wasn't your fault at all. I think your mother finally realized that all those years, the roles were backward. And if it took her sacrificing her life to make things right, that was exactly what she would do. I don't know why your mother held herself back from you, for all those years. But in the end, she saved you and Miranda, didn't she?"
"Yes," Celia admitted softly, "she saved us both. 'Christine' was my mother's middle name, you know. I named Miranda. . .her middle name was a combination of 'Christine' and 'Annabelle.' When my mother ran in front of that car, she drew a lot of attention. My housekeeper had assistants now, and. . .and later, one of the police officers who was with my mother told me that she died with a smile on her face. Do you really think that was what happened? That she was being guided, to help me?"
"I'm sure of it," Evy replied. And she was. She wasn't sure why she knew that, or how she knew that. But every cell in her body told her that there was at least a part of Madeleine Ferguson which knew she was sacrificing herself for her child. She only wished it wasn't necessary. Celia needed a live mother, not a dead martyr. She needed her mother, so they could reconcile, and put things to rights. Together.
She was telling Celia the easiest part of the truth. But Evy suspected there was more. Everyone knew that Jason and Madeleine argued after Jason left his pregnant sister. Madeleine berated her son for failing his sister so terribly. Was it so far-fetched that Jason turned it around, reminding her that she was never there for her daughter? Celia was nurtured by her grandmother, and later nurtured her own brother.
It made sense. Jason lashed out when he was afraid or angry or guilty. Evy stopped and thought about that, frowning. Come to think of it, he reacted just as Rick did. Evy dismissed that and continued with her original train of thought. She didn't want to consider any similarities between her husband and Celia's brother. Jason would have reminded his mother that she failed Celia just as badly as he did, possibly even worse.
Guilt-ridden, Madeleine did the only thing she knew to do. She couldn't face the knowledge that she could have destroyed her daughter's life. . .and unable to cope with that, or with the responsibility of reaching out to her child, Madeleine chose death. She wasn't strong enough to do what was necessary, so she once more left the burden on Celia. Only this time, there were no more second chances, because Madeleine was dead, and Celia would forever wonder if she was to blame.
Was it possible that Evy was wrong? Of course it was. Madeleine was four years dead. But it made sense, though she said none of this to Celia. Instead, she squeezed her best friend's hand one last time, then told her, "I'm fine. See to Ardeth. Take care of him for me, for both of us." Celia hesistated, then nodded. Evy pushed herself up from the pillows, enveloping the other woman in a gentle hug.
Nefertiri made her presence known with a kick, and Celia actually giggled. Evy said with a laugh, "You see! Your niece agrees! Now, go, silly girl!" Celia glared at her, but refrained from reminding Evy that they were the same age. She always did have more self-control than Evy. She quietly left the room, leaving the Englishwoman to think about what came next. Where did they go from here and how did they save Ardeth?
. . .
*What comes next? What comes next, my dear girl, is I leave your husband in a world of hurt for thinking I didn't love my son! For saying that I did not cherish him and treasure him as he deserved!* Suleiman Bey stormed in the Afterlife, glowering down at the O'Connell manor. Andreas, for once, kept his mouth shut. Not because he thought his father was wrong, but because making a smart remark wouldn't help Ardeth.
*Father, he knows no better! You know how O'Connell is, he lashes out at anyone when he's angry and scared. Would you rather he lash out at Ardeth?* the young man finally asked. His father glowered at him, but Andreas stood his ground. He continued, *I saw those images, Father, just as you did. I saw Ardeth dying in my arms. I even saw what would have happened if the Creature rose before your death.*
Suleiman looked away, ashamed, and Andreas sighed. That almost happened. It would have happened, if he hadn't listened to his father (for once), and took a group of their men to deal with the priests intent on resurrecting Imhotep. They stopped them, and Suleiman sacrificed his life to buy time for his son. He sacrificed his life, because Nizam Toth was a traitor.
Toth! By the gods, Andreas wanted to make that monster pay for what was done to his family! The young man shook his head, aggravated, for he knew he would never have the kind of power needed to take down one like Nizam Toth. Ardeth had a better chance, because he was willing to work with other people. Even if they were people like Rick O'Connell. Fortunately, he had other allies. Like Celia.
In the months since Ardeth's wedding, Andreas learned a great deal about his sister-in-law. He knew she was sexually insatiable, that Ardeth slept peacefully in her arms, and she was exceedingly protective of his little brother. He knew that she was quietly teaching English to Imhotep, along with the ways of this new world. He trusted her about as much as he trusted anyone, and certainly more than he trusted the Med-jai.
*It is not an easy thing, my son. . .knowing that a single decision you make could end your entire world as you have known it,* Suleiman said softly, bringing his oldest's attention back to him. Andreas inclined his head. That was all too true. Knowing what he knew now, he gladly would have made the same mistakes he did sixteen years earlier, given a choice between his life and the life of his little brother, as well as their people.
*It was not your mistake which led to the rising of the Creature in that reality, Papa. It was mine. But you paid for it, as did Ardeth,* Andreas replied, remembering the sight of his young brother being beaten by Lock-nah. Suleiman looked at him sadly, and Andreas sighed. There was a very good reason why Ardeth reminded their mother so much of their father, and it went beyond the physical.
*You are my son, Andreas. My responsibility, just as your brothers and sisters are. Your mistakes are my own. The same is true of Ardeth,* Suleiman answered. Andreas glared at the older man, unwilling to hear any criticism of his little brother. Suleiman added, *Ardeth made mistakes. Of a different variety from yours, indeed, but mistakes nonetheless. You were careless, Andreas, and Ardeth was unwilling to trust.*
*He trusted O'Connell, did he not? He led our people through their darkest hour, and that was better than either of us did!* Andreas fired back and his father looked away. The young man shook his head, saying bitterly, *I understand why Ardeth always felt that nothing he did was good enough. Because there is no such thing, is there?*
*La. The difference between you and your brother, Andreas, was that he always took his responsibilities seriously, and you did not. You saw being chieftain as playing a magnificent game. Until Acacia was raped, it never occurred to you that there might be consequences for your actions. You failed to deal with Lock-nah, and your family paid for it,* his father replied.
Andreas didn't look away from his father, though the words hurt. He knew it to be truth, and hissed, *Yes. Yes, my carelessness resulted in my sister being violated, in my own death, and in the torture of my younger brother. It resulted in Ardeth fighting for his life, and then for his own birthright. He made a decision as an older brother. . . that was what he was, Father, and what he is. I left him no choice!*
*Untrue, my son. Your brother chose Anatol's safety over the good of the Med-jai. The Med-jai just lost one chieftain, they could not lose another. But Ardeth was not thinking as a chieftain, he was thinking as a young warrior who just lost one brother and faced losing another. There is no shame in making the wrong decision. He learned from it, Andreas, and that makes the difference,* Suleiman answered.
Andreas shook his head wildly, growling, *There you go again! You assume that Ardeth was thinking only of saving Anatol's life, but did it never occur to you that he was thinking of other things? That he was buying Anatol time to get to safety? If he and Anatol tried to outrun the bandits together, on one horse, they both would have died! And you wonder why O'Connell believes you do not love Ardeth?*
There was a flash of rage in his father's eyes, but Suleiman replied quietly, *No, my son. I know what Ardeth was thinking. I saw inside his heart. It is you who has assumed that Ardeth made his choice based solely on emotion. Yes, his choice was made partly from emotion, partly from an older brother's decision to protect the younger. But logic entered into the decision as well. Ardeth has always been one of our finest riders, Anatol, from an early age. He knew exactly what he was doing.*
Andreas stopped. . .and glared at his father, realizing what Suleiman just did. His father smiled faintly, adding, *Ardeth had the right of it. He thinks you are a great deal like O'Connell. And that reminds me, I still need to have words with that lout. Saying I do not love my son, that I did not cherish him while I drew breath! He will never know how much my children have meant to me!*
Andreas started laughing and said, *I am not the one who is much like O'Connell, Papa. You are, as well.* Suleiman glared at him, and Andreas laughed harder. After a moment, however, he stopped laughing. It wasn't that funny, and his laughter was due to tension, more than anything else. He was afraid for his little brother. He knew why this was happening to Ardeth, and that the gods were trying to teach O'Connell a lesson.
But he hated seeing his brother suffer. Hated seeing all of his siblings suffer, of course, but only one of his siblings was the chieftain of their people. Surely there were better ways to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson! He knew the answer, though. They had to make sure, once and for all, that O'Connell understood what his selfishness and his wife's curiosity cost Ardeth and the Med-jai. That didn't mean Andreas liked it. And he knew for a fact that his sister-in-law would like it even less when she found out about it.
*It will be all right, my son. There is only so much a human body can take, and neither Osiris nor Isis will allow any lasting harm to come to your brother,* Suleiman said softly. He smiled a bit ruefully, and added, //And Horus has informed me that he will deal with Rick O'Connell himself. There is no need for me to deal with him.// Andreas raised his brows at that, but said nothing.
. . .
Ardeth remained quiet for the rest of the night. As promised, Jonathan eventually returned with a chair for Rick, and the American remained at his friend's side. Evy went to bed after coaxing Rick and the rest of the family to eat something, and Alex trotted after his mother. To take care of her, he said, and no one told him that he couldn't do that. Alex was a lot like his father. He hated being helpless, more than anything else.
Jonathan slept in his own room, while Celia quietly made a bed for herself on the floor. Rick didn't try talking her out of it. In the first place, it would do no good, and in the second. . .he didn't have that right. Ardeth was her husband, and in her position, Rick knew nothing short of dynamite would have kept him from Evy's side. Celia gently kissed Ardeth's forehead, and nodded to Rick, then lay down on her make-shift bed.
Anck-su-namun materialized shortly thereafter, at Ardeth's bedside, opposite of where Rick sat now. She passed her hand over Ardeth's forehead, whispering something that Rick couldn't make out. And much as he hated to admit it, there was only pain and anxiety in the concubine's brown eyes. She loved Ardeth, he accepted now, just as much as Evy did. And she was just as frightened for him as they all were.
She was also there to watch over Celia. It never failed to amaze Rick, that protectiveness. He knew Celia was the reincarnation of her best friend. He remembered how strong the bond was between the two 'forever friends' was. But that was three thousand years ago, and Celia was not Ardath. They were very similar, of course. Not just because they had the same spirit, but because their personalities were very similar.
It should have surprised him more, the love which Anck bore for Ardeth. After all, he was her ancient enemy. The only Med-jai she cared for was her own bodyguard, Shakir. According his Terumun memories, there was a time when Anck hoped Shakir and Ardath would fall in love. Perhaps the young concubine would have lived longer, if that was the case. No one would ever know, and perhaps it was for the best. Especially after his dreams. Sometimes, it really was best *not* to know, what might have been.
The hours passed, and the house slept, all except for Rick. He would not leave Ardeth's side, not even to sleep. But Rick did grow lonely, and with no one else to pay attention, he quietly took Ardeth's hand. No words were spoken. There were too many times during the last few days when words failed him. Evy told him, when he checked on her briefly, that she thought it was time they all told Ardeth what he meant to them. No more ducking out, no more disguising your emotions with something else.
In the still of the night, with no one around, there was no place for Rick to hide. This was his fault. He couldn't hide from that knowledge. This entire situation was his fault. Ardeth's illness. . .he wasn't feeling well, and Rick drove him away because he didn't engage his brain before speaking. And if this was someone's idea of punishing Rick, then they could find another way, without dragging Ardeth into it.
Oh, that would be a first! Rick always accused Ardeth of dragging his family into the problems of the Med-jai, but that was backwards. Rick's family dragged Ardeth into their problems. That was what made it so unbearable now. He whispered as the sun rose, "How many times, buddy? How many times will you pay for our crimes? How many more times can I push you away, before you finally run out of patience?"
Okay, that last question wasn't necessary. Ardeth's patience vanished the moment Rick accused him of bringing trouble to their doorstep. He sighed, "I'm sorry, buddy. I should have never said that to you, of all people." A muffled sound tore his attention away from Ardeth, and Rick saw that Celia was starting to stir.
He carefully placed Ardeth's hand back on the blanket and grimaced at the pain in his back. He was thirty-five years old, he had no business pulling these damn all-nighters any more. But he couldn't leave Ardeth. Much as he wanted to remain in bed with his wife, and feel their daughter move under his hand. . .he couldn't leave Ardeth. After a moment, Celia sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
Rick showed considerable restraint (especially for him) in not laughing at her. Celia's dark hair was flat in some places and sticking up straight in others. He was especially glad that he didn't laugh at her when her confused eyes lit on Ardeth. Rick watched in silence as her expression changed from confused to stricken to angry then to resigned, as she remembered everything which happened during the last few days.
But all she asked was, "No change?" Rick shook his head, and Celia groaned as she pushed herself to her knees. Rick's laughter almost escaped him when he heard her mutter, "I'm getting too old for this." She wasn't even thirty-one. . .her birthday was in three weeks, while she and Ardeth were scheduled to be in Scotland. Rick knew because Ardeth asked him at one point what he should consider when buying his wife a gift.
The young bride wobbled over to the bed, and sat at the foot of the bed. As she had the previous night, Celia lightly caressed the inside of Ardeth's ankle, forcing Rick to look away. She whispered, ignoring Rick, "Good morning, my love. I need to check on Evy and get breakfast started, but I will be back as soon as I can. I love you."
Rick looked back as she finished speaking and rose to her feet. He really hated it when she touched the unconscious Ardeth like that. He always felt like an intruder. Celia said in a monotone, "I'll be back in an hour. I'm trusting my husband to you." Then she left, and Rick released his breath. His first inclination was to call her a bitch, then he realized she was civil. Which was really more reasonable than he usually was.
She was as good as her word, returning about an hour later with breakfast, then left again after Rick ate. It was her intention to find some more washclothes, so more than two people could sponge down Ardeth. This worked to Rick's benefit, since his hands ached this morning. She probably knew that, too. Even if she could barely speak to him, she wasn't fighting him, at least not while Ardeth was fighting for his life.
By the time noon rolled around, Rick no longer kept track of how long he sat here. It seemed like his world just shrunk down to just this room, and those who went in and out during the last two days. Evy looped her arms around his neck, saying softly, "You should get some rest. . .if not for yourself, then for him. He needs you strong right now, Rick, not exhausted." The American shook his head, his eyes focused on Ardeth.
"It's my fault, Evy. . .if I wasn't such an ass in the first place, none of this would have happened," Rick answered. He shook his head, trying desperately to shake the lump in his throat with the motion. There, he finally said it out loud. Not just to himself, but out loud. It wasn't his style to bother with fluffy sentiment or such guilt, but these were hardly normal circumstances. He had only to look at Ardeth again to know that.
Evy hugged him, whispering, "Celia was angry with you, Rick, she simply lashed out. Ardeth w. . ." Her voice trailed off as Rick drew her around to sit on his lap. Nope, he couldn't let her finish that sentence. The American looked into Evy's eyes. His wife. One of the two. . .soon to be three. . .most important people in his life. The mother of his child, and the center of his entire world, if he was truly honest about it.
But Ardeth was important, too. Over the last few days, he enumerated everything Ardeth did to protect his family. Everything that they went through since their first meeting, when as typical alpha males did, they tried to kill each other. Rick smiled in spite of himself. God, you know you're screwed when you remember someone trying to kill you with fondness. Maybe that was why he put into words what was bothering him.
He said in a low voice, "Ardeth is unconscious and likely dying, Evy. He collapsed at the train station, and just lay there for god knows how long. Don't. . .please don't tell me. . .that Ardeth would understand. Please don't tell me that. Because there is a very good possibility that he will never wake up." Evy just sighed, tightening her arms around Rick's neck. He wasn't telling her anything new, either.
"I won't tell you, then. And I wouldn't dream of telling you that he'll be all right. I don't know the future. But, honey, I do know this. Ardeth has never given up, not a moment in his life. He has even more to live for now, than he has ever before. What makes you think he'll give up now? Because you two had words? Because you tried his patience one time too many?" Evy asked.
She didn't say the words, but Rick heard them anyhow. *Do you think you're that important to Ardeth, that you determine whether he lives or dies? Just who do you think you are?* Rick swallowed hard. He didn't know to whom the voice belonged, but right now, it didn't matter. It was true that he was to blame for Ardeth's condition. . .for Ardeth being so sick. But it wasn't up to him, whether he lived or died.
That was up to Ardeth, and it was time Rick started accepting that. He made it harder for Ardeth, by taking his choices from him. Ardeth would choose to live. He would fight to live. Just like he fought for everything else in his life. Rick released a breath. He knew that Celia blamed him. . .but she didn't expect things from him that he couldn't give. All right. Then they would start with things he could give.
Evy was right. He took too much on himself during these last two days, perhaps because he took too much from Ardeth in the past. But there were other people in this house who wanted to take care of Ardeth, who could do the job. People who had things to tell him as well, apologies to make. Words to share. This wasn't about Rick, and he had to remember that. This was about Ardeth.
And he would start with the woman in his arms. She was gently caressing Ardeth's black hair, just as she did after Ardeth's last nightmare. Rick finally said, his voice very soft, "You're right. Will you be all right for an hour or so?" She nodded, sliding from his lap. It was rather awkward, given her pregnancy, but she managed it. Just like she managed almost everything else in their lives. Sometimes better than he did.
"I'll be fine. I've been dying to get Ardeth alone for the last day," Evy said with a mischievous grin. Rick rolled his eyes and kissed her lightly. He rested his hand lightly on Ardeth's shoulder for a moment, not sure what he should say to his unconscious friend. But Evy said softly, "We'll both be fine, Rick. It's time I started helping Ardeth too. Go." Rick nodded, glanced at Ardeth one last time, then quietly left the room.
Sailor Elf: I knew what you meant, it's okay. What I was trying to say (and this is why I try not to post or respond to email when I'm tired), is that I'm flattered that you reacted as you did. It means I accomplished what I was going for.
Deana: Yeah, and it gets freakier. Just wait until Ardeth starts reliving some of the ugliest moments of his life. Then we'll really see freaky.
Nakhti: Well. . .honestly, I don't usually write such long stories. 'The Forever Friends' was one of the longest stories I've ever written, second only to my own sequel to the 1993 Three Musketeers movie, and it was an experiment. But don't you dare give up. The size of the fic is irrelevant. Quality is the important thing, and from what I've seen of your writing, you really should keep going. I actually tried to break 'The Forever Friends' down into two smaller fics, but they wouldn't cooperate with me. That was long. . .but I have two UC fics in the planning stages, which are monster fics, both of which combine characters from four or five fandoms. Those two will be a headache!
Part Six
The nap did her a world of good, though Evy could have happily lived without the dreams. When she woke up, she felt sad. . .depressed even. . .because of the dreams she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember the dreams, which meant they weren't visions or memories. The details weren't important. Just a feeling that she couldn't shake. She shook herself, and went to the kitchen.
It was seven pm, long past time for dinner, though Evy was sure no one was in the mood to eat tonight. Still, she determined that they needed to keep up their strength. As sick as Ardeth was, he needed them to be *his* strength, and since Evy couldn't shake the feeling she was responsible for his condition, she was resolute that she wouldn't fail him again. Something simple which would keep their strength up, if not their spirits.
As she fixed soup and sandwiches, Evy thought about her dream. She could remember no details, just an overwhelming sadness, and a sense that Ardeth had no idea how important he was to all of them. *Maybe,* she thought, *he doesn't. Maybe he really doesn't realize how desperately we need him. Not just to save our sorry bums when we do something stupid. . .but to remind us that all isn't lost.*
He wasn't always like that, of course. She smiled to herself, remembering how he believed things were the beginning of the end, during Imhotep's first rising. He was so sure that it was over, and yet, he refused to quit. How on earth did she manage to misjudge that extraordinary man? Because she was young and stupid, that was how. She still had a great deal of learning to do, but she was getting there. *Yes,* she decided, *that's what we'll do. We'll start telling Ardeth how much he means to us all.*
"I thought I. . .EVY! Dash it all, what do you think you're doing, old mum?" Jonathan yelped. Evy uttered a little shriek, spinning around to face her older brother. She was lucky. The movement took her away from the stove, which was lucky indeed, as she pressed up against the cabinets. Jonathan glared at her, the water basin firmly in hand, and exclaimed, "You shouldn't be exerting yourself like this, old mum! It's bad enough that Ardeth is down, we don't need you going into premature labor!"
"OOOH! I am *pregnant,* Jonathan, I am not dying! I can still fix a meal, since none of you will let me take care of Ardeth! I love him, too, you know! I'm just as frightened as the rest of you!" Evy exclaimed, stamping her foot. It was a childish thing to do, and the baby kicked in protest. Her hormones were veering madly out of control, and she collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands as the tears came.
Immediately, Jonathan dropped the basin on the floor and knelt in front of her. He said contritely, putting his hands on her knees, "There now, old mum, don't cry! I didn't mean to upset you. . .you just scared me. And we all know how much you love Ardeth, you tell us in a thousand ways without ever saying a word. We know you're frightened too. . .it's just that we want to take care of you, and Ardeth."
"But don't you see, Jonathan," Evy sobbed, "it's my fault, somehow! I can't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be happening to Ardeth if it weren't for something I did! He and Celia saved my life, they saved the baby, and now Ardeth is unconscious and sick! He got sick after the Guardians attacked, and the Guardians wouldn't have attacked if I left that damn stupid necklace where I found it!"
Jonathan awkwardly put his arms around her shoulders, drawing her head to rest against his chest. It was awkward, because of her belly, but Jonathan drew her into a fierce embrace which encompassed both her and Nefertiri. Happily, it settled Evy's agitated daughter. And still, Evy sobbed. Jonathan stroked her hair, whispering, "It's all right, old mum. This is Ardeth. Imhotep couldn't kill him, the Scorpion King couldn't kill him, and nor could Khaldun. He'll beat this, too, just like he beat everything else."
Evy hiccuped, hoping the motion wouldn't get Nefertiri agitated all over again. Her luck held, and Evy whispered, "I don't know, Jonathan. I just don't know, and that's what frightens me so much! I keep feeling that he doesn't realize how much he means to all of us, and it's so important that he does know! I want his eyes open, Jonathan, I want his eyes open and I want him sparring with Rick, or kissing Celia, or something! I love him so much, Jonathan, and I can't imagine our lives without him. I don't want to try."
Evy was too caught up in the horror of the current situation, so it never occurred to her that she used similar words more than nine months earlier, while she, Jonathan, Rick and Ardeth were tracking down Alex in Izzy's dirigible. Then, she was trying to tell Rick just how frightened she was for their little boy. That was a private conversation, so Jonathan didn't hear it. But the truth was there, nonetheless.
Still holding her shoulders, Jonathan pulled back and said quietly, "We'll get him back, Evy. I told you. . .this is Ardeth we're discussing. We won't let him go without a fight, and I think it's time he knew that. So you just sit here, and catch your breath. I'll get the sandwiches together, put water and ice in the basin for Rick. And then, my darling baby sister, we'll bring Ardeth home to us!"
Evy lifted her tear-stained face, to find hope and faith shining in her brother's eyes, to match the determination, the certainty, in his voice. He meant every word he said. When did her big brother become this determined man? Was she even looking at the time, or did she miss it? In the end, it didn't matter. As she had when Rick promised they would get Alex back, she smiled weakly and whispered, "I know we will."
. . .
Upstairs in Ardeth's room, the Med-jai's fever steadily rose over the next half hour. It took Jonathan a little longer than anticipated to return with the basin and the ice, and in the meantime, Celia fanned Ardeth with whatever she could find. She was resourceful, Rick would give her that. A resourceful pain in the ass, but Rick knew he had no room to talk. Especially not when it came to being a pain in the ass.
Though the water on Ardeth's skin was drying, the fanning would cool him down a little more. At the very least, it would buy them some time. It wouldn't solve the problem, but sometimes, buying time was all you could ask for. Rick joined his friend's wife, using whatever happened to be handy. Celia used a neat little trick. . .folding a sheet of paper from a notebook several times. Once she noticed him helping, Celia made another one and they set to work.
But it did no good. Ardeth's temperature still rose. After Jonathan returned with the basin, he left once more. Evy was making a light supper for everyone, and Jonathan wanted to make sure she didn't overdo it. Rick was silently grateful. Both Evy and Ardeth needed him right now, but he could only take care of one. Besides, so long as she wasn't in here, the chances of Evy going into premature labor were slim.
Rick would take her shift. . .that was his way of taking care of her. And Celia hadn't spoken since she questioned Rick about Beni's betrayal. It was just as well, since Rick wasn't sure if he could answer her. Was he punishing Ardeth? He didn't want to believe he was that unreasonable. Okay, maybe he was a little angry at Ardeth for watching from the cliffs. But he didn't betray Rick. He didn't even *know* him the time! Besides, Rick had to admit that he would have done the same thing.
He thought about that as they worked. He sponged, Celia fanned. It was almost eight pm when Ardeth took a turn. At first, Rick thought he was improving, because he was murmuring in his sleep. That was promising, given how little noise he made earlier. It soon became apparent, however, that this wasn't good. Ardeth wasn't waking up. . .he was sliding into delirium. This was a very bad thing, as Rick knew, for two reasons.
First and foremost, the higher Ardeth's fever went, the more likely he would have seizures or convulsions. That was a *very* bad thing. Two, if the fever didn't break in time, there was a chance he would end up with brain damage, and they really didn't want that, either. Little time was spent discussing how he got so terribly sick, in such a short amount of time. . .they were more worried about bringing the fever down.
Nor would Rick consider calling the doctor. He had the uneasy sense that calling a doctor would be of no use. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but it was there. And around eight pm, he was proven correct. Ardeth went very, very still, and Rick and Celia exchanged a glance. Rick whispered, "Do you think. . .?" He never finished the sentence, because Ardeth screamed in agony, his body arching up off the bed.
Rick was still reeling from Ardeth's scream. . .he barely registered Celia crying out, "Hold him down!" But he saw her climb all the way onto the bed, holding Ardeth's legs in place with her body weight, and he grabbed Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth screamed again, crying out in Arabic. Rick flinched as he mentally translated what his suffering friend was saying.
From the sound of it, Ardeth was reliving the day his brother died and his own torture at the hands of Lock-nah and his men. No seventeen year old boy should know such things, not even a young warrior. And the fact that it was Ardeth. . .refined even when he was angry (usually). . .made it worse. To his relief, Celia didn't ask what was said. Ardeth screamed again, and Rick bit his lip, his arms aching. Ardeth was very sick, but very strong. Or maybe it was the delirium which increased his strength. As his body bucked again, Celia lost her balance and hit the ground.
Rick screamed, "JONATHAN!" But Jonathan was either on his way already, or ran when he heard Celia hit the ground, because a heartbeat after Rick screamed for his brother-in-law, Jonathan dashed through the door and pinned Ardeth's legs to the bed once more. Their friend's back arched up off the bed, and he screamed. Rick closed his eyes and bit his lip again, trying to fight back tears at the sound his friend made.
God, he wanted those terrible screams to stop! Rick winced as another stream of invectives filled the air, but he held tight. Ardeth stopped his struggles, gasping for breath, and Rick took advantage of that respite to assume a more effective position. He lifted his friend up and slid in behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Ardeth's chest and arms. Not a moment too soon, because Ardeth began fighting him once more.
"My God, what's happening?" Evy cried out, appearing in the doorway. Rick almost groaned, partly from the elbow Ardeth just threw into his ribs (trust Ardeth to fight dirty), and partly from exasperation at his wife's arrival. Her timing couldn't have been worse. Her eyes widened and she cried out, "Stop it, you'll hurt him!" Alex darted out from behind his mother, and ran to Celia, who was still on the floor.
"Not quite, old mum," Jonathan grunted, pinning Ardeth with his own body weight. Rick glanced at his brother-in-law, who made sure Ardeth couldn't knee him. Jonathan continued, "We're trying to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Alex, help up Auntie Celia." The little boy helped Celia away from the bed, though she wasn't standing up. Her face was ashen with fear, and Alex's arms were wrapped around her.
Rick thought things couldn't get any worse. He thought just hearing Ardeth scream was bad enough, just seeing his friend's face contort in pain was bad enough. It can always get worse. The cries gave way to muted sobbing. Rick choked back a sob of his own, holding tightly to his friend, as Ardeth called out to his long-dead father. Begging his forgiveness for not being a better son, a better brother, a better Med-jai.
Rick didn't know what to do. He held Ardeth, his heart breaking at the pain in Ardeth's voice. His eyes fell on his son, who was wrapped in Celia's arms just as surely as she was wrapped in his. Alex, who was only four years younger than Ardeth was when he lost his father, who watched his mother die once and almost watched his father die as well. What would Rick want his son to know, if he died before Alex was a man?
He ignored his own anger with Suleiman Bey, for not treasuring his child as every child deserved to be cherished, for dying while his son still needed him so much. Instead, he focused on his friend, his brother, his royal pain in the ass, and damn if Rick didn't want it that way. He whispered in Arabic, "Shhh. . .there is nothing to forgive, Ardeth. No man could have asked for a better son than you. . .if anyone should apologize, it is I, for leaving you before I could tell you that. Forgive me, my son. . .I love you so much."
"Papa? You are not angry with me?" Ardeth asked. Rick looked at Evy, and saw tears running down her face. For his own part, the American wasn't sure whether the wetness on his own face was the result of tears or sweat. Why was Rick so surprised by this side to his friend? Ardeth was just a child when his father died. . .in his heart, where his father was concerned, he was still that little boy. And he always would be.
"No, my son," Rick answered, "I am not. You did the very best you could. You protected your little brother. This is not your fault. Rest now, my son. Rest and regain your strength. . .your little brother and your sisters need you. And never forget how much I love you." As he spoke the last three words, he glared at Evy, remembering all the times she pressed him to admit just how much Ardeth meant to them both.
She just offered him a faint smile. Evy approached the bed and gently stroked Ardeth's black hair, then kissed his forehead. She whispered in the same language, "Sleep now, my sweet boy. Sleep and let us take care of you." Ardeth gave a sleepy sigh, then went limp in Rick's arms. The husband and wife stared at each other. Rick was unwilling to let Ardeth go just yet. But the decision was taken out of his hands by yet another unforeseen turn of events.
Evy sighed, "He's finally asleep, the poor thing. Alex, I. . .oh god." The last two words were whimpered. Rick's head jerked up, to see his wife's face tighten with pain. Her hand went to her abdomen, and Evy whispered, her voice strained, "Oh dear. . .oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Not now. . .this is really not a good time for you to be coming out, darling!" Rick just stared at his wife in shock. This couldn't be happening now!!!!!!!!!!!
. . .
NOW WHAT????? Jonathan released his grip on Ardeth, now that the Med- jai passed out, and turned toward his sister. She slumped back against the wall, her hand moving in soothing circles on her belly, as if she was trying to convince her daughter. . .OH MY GOD! Jonathan's jaw dropped open. The baby! Rick was still cradling their friend against his chest, even as he stared at Evy, looking panicked. Jonathan could hardly blame him. Alex asked, his voice cracking with fear, "Mum? Auntie Celia?"
Jonathan tore his eyes away from his sister, and looked at Celia, who was gently disengaging herself from Alex's arms. She gently ruffled his dark blond hair, then put her arms around Evy. Jonathan's sister leaned on her gratefully. Celia said softly, "Let's get you back to bed, Evy. . .it'll be all right. Rick and Jonathan can take care of Ardeth. Alex, come with me and we'll take care of your mom."
Her legs still shook, Jonathan saw, but she was steadier on her feet at the moment than poor Evy, whose face was still very pale, almost as pale as Ardeth's. Alex followed the two women from the room, still looking worried. Rick almost went after them, until Ardeth slumped sideways, and Rick was forced to catch him. Jonathan said weakly, "I think you might want to remove yourself from your current position first, Rick."
The other man glared at him, but it definitely wasn't the worst Look Jonathan ever received. Still, Rick gently eased Ardeth forward, then slipped out from behind the Med-jai, still holding his shoulders. He almost tripped in the process, and Jonathan very carefully bit back the laugh which tried to bubble up at the comical picture presented. Rick *really* wouldn't have appreciated the humor in it, of course.
Once he was clear, Rick lay Ardeth back against the pillows, and Jonathan didn't know whether he should be relieved or worried when Ardeth groaned softly. Rick froze, looking at his friend in concern. He was seated on the bed beside the unconscious Med-jai, his hands gripping Ardeth's shoulders. Ardeth whispered something in Arabic that Jonathan didn't understand, but he did understand the look on Rick's face.
And *that* didn't bode well for someone. Rick growled, "Jonathan, get me a chair. I'm not leaving his side until he gets through this." Jonathan moved hesitantly from the room, unwilling to leave Ardeth alone with Rick in this state. At least, until he heard Rick whisper in a broken voice, "God, buddy. . .if I ever find any of Lock-nah's men are still alive, I swear to you, they'll pay for what they did to that boy!"
*He means the seventeen year old boy whom my child was once,* Ardath said quietly. Jonathan looked around, to find her standing just to his left. Her arms were folded over her chest as she stared at Ardeth. The black wig was gone, as was the headdress she often wore to state functions. She continued, *My child told your brother-in-law what those men did to him. They went far beyond whipping him, though that's the only thing everyone else knows about.*
Jonathan had a feeling he didn't want to know what *exactly* those monsters did. Instead, he focused on finding that chair. Oh drat! The nearest chair was in the master bedroom. Oh well, this would give him a chance to check on Evy. Ardath whispered, *I do not wish to tell you. But search your imagination, my friend. Search your mind for the most devastating way to humiliate a boy of seventeen. To. . .to violate him without violation. And there will be the answer for your brother-in-law's rage.*
Jonathan still didn't want to think about that, and Ardath whispered, *I wish I had that luxury, my friend. But I watched what they did, and I could do nothing for him. I could do nothing, not even ease his pain. All I could do was help him forget.* She turned to look at him more fully, and said softly, *A thousand deaths are not nearly enough for Lock-nah or his second in command, Nizam Toth.*
Nizam Toth? The ghost continued, *Tiyu. Also called the Dark Med- jai. He was a contemporary of Suleiman Bey. In exchange for immortality and eternal youth, he betrayed Ardeth's father. He is still out there, Jonathan. He is. . .a contingency plan, a player left in place in Cairo, in case Imhotep failed at Ahm Shere. He did fail, and now, it is just a question of when Toth will make his move against my people.*
Ardath raised her eyes to look at Jonathan more fully as they headed for Evy's room, and the air left his lungs in a rush at the hatred he saw there. Ardath hated Nizam Toth as much as she hated Khaldun. The only thing which angered Ardath was. . .no. His mind shut down at the memories provided to him through Nassor. The only times when Nassor saw Ardath in a true rage, in a blinding fury in which she was totally incapable of being unreasonable was when. . . Dear God. Oh dear God.
"And he's a threat to the Med-jai?" Jonathan asked, his voice quavering. This evil, evil man was in a position to cause great harm to Jonathan's family. Nizam Toth would care only that Rick bore the mark of the Med-jai. Danger for Rick automatically meant danger for Evy and the children. Ardath nodded, and Jonathan muttered, "Damn." His ghostly companion allowed herself a faint smile, one which held no mirth. It was a mere twist of her lips, but it said more than words could.
*He is, and even as we speak, he is amassing a new force. He knows not that Imhotep was raised once again. . .like Lock-nah, Toth never had use for Khaldun. Not because he had any great respect for those whom Khaldun harmed, but because to him, Khaldun was a joke. No, Toth is a problem in and of himself. My greatest fear is that he will resurrect Lock- nah, and then my child will be in danger,* Ardath answered.
Jonathan looked at her quickly as they reached Evy's room. He asked, "They can resurrect Lock-nah? How? His body was lost at Ahm Shere, when it was sucked into the sand!" Again, Ardath offered him a smile which wasn't truly a smile, and Jonathan remembered what they were discussing. Imhotep rose three times now, and Anck-su-namun came back twice. . .once at Hamunaptra, and once in the body of her reincarnation Meela. The Englishman muttered, "Right, never mind, I didn't ask that."
*Tis all right, Jonathan. . .I do understand. You are afraid for your sister and her children. One of whom is your child,* Ardath commented. Jonathan almost gave himself whiplash, looking at his companion. She smiled for real this time, and said, *Did you really think I never noticed the similarities between you and little Alexander? His hair is only a few shades lighter than yours, and he has blue eyes, just as you do. The reason he is so similar to Nefertiri reborn is because she is your sister, of course.*
She paused and looked just past him, saying softly, *I must go now, and I know you wish to check on your sister. Know this, old friend. Though I have gone to the Afterlife, I still watch over all of you. I will always be here when you need me. When all of you need me. But right now, someone else needs me. Blessings upon you, my dear friend. . .and you have my thanks and my respect for taking care of my child.*
She gave him another smile, then disappeared. Jonathan shook his head, muttering, "She has to be Ardeth's ancestress. . .she talks just like him!" There was an amused peal of laughter greeting that remark, and as he so often did when Ardath laughed at him, Jonathan added, "You were meant to hear that!" He was on the verge of knocking on Evy's door when that blasted wench Anck-su-namun passed through.
"Oh bloody hell, what were you doing in there, trying to finish what you started at Ahm Shere?" Jonathan demanded of the newcomer. Much to his shock, a hurt look crossed the newcomer's face. . .but even after a stoic mask settled across the beautiful features, hurt lingered in her eyes. Jonathan tried to ignore the guilt he felt at causing pain, because this wench didn't deserve his compassion.
"I was seeing to Nefertiri reborn and Celia. I was. . .resting. . .when Ardeth's screams woke me. I wished to make sure everyone was all right, and gravitated to where Celia was. I did not realize that Nefertiri feared she was in labor," Anck-su-namun replied, her head held high. Jonathan didn't want to admire her for her strength. And a moment later, that was driven out of his mind when he realized what she said.
He repeated, "She *thought* she was in labor? She and the baby are all right?" Anck-su-namun dipped her head, and Jonathan sagged against the wall, muttering, "It was false labor. Oh thank God. . .I don't think we could have dealt with Ardeth being sick and Evy being in labor in the same time. I don't think Rick could have ever forgiven Ardeth for taking him away from Evy when he was needed most."
It was an innocent comment, so to speak. But it had the effect of thoroughly infuriating Anck-su-namun. Her dark eyes flashed with rage as she spat, "And your brother by marriage would no doubt be that selfish! Ardeth did not *choose* to become ill, Nassor reborn! He became ill because of that fight with the Guardians! He became ill because he was defending your sister from her own mistakes!"
Jonathan's first instinct, of course, was to defend Evy. She was, after all, his baby sister, and protecting her was his duty. Right along with teasing her. But then Anck's words sank in, and he realized why Ardeth was so ill. He was told about the scratch on Ardeth's palm, the scratch he received when one of the Guardians grazed him with his dagger. His dagger, which must have been dipped in poison.
"Tiyu. But do not ask me which kind, for I do not know. I would tell you. I would do anything in my power to save Ardeth. But this I do not know," Anck replied quietly. Jonathan wanted to scoff, but he remembered the reunion he viewed in Hamunaptra months earlier, the reunion between Anck and Lady Ardath. However she might have felt about the Med- jai at one time, he knew that Anck loved Ardeth.
"So if we don't find out what poison was on that dagger. . .we will lose Ardeth?" Jonathan asked. Anck hesitated, then nodded. Jonathan swallowed hard, then he asked, "And. . .what do we do?" But he knew the answer. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't know. Only a short time earlier, Jonathan vowed to his sister that they wouldn't let Ardeth go without a fight. He now knew that a fight was exactly what they faced.
. . .
"Feeling better?"
The voice came from the bathroom, where Celia disappeared only a few minutes earlier for a washcloth. Evy O'Connell looked up at her best friend and managed a weak smile. She couldn't remember ever being that frightened before. She was terrified, yes, when Rick raced the sun to save Alex. Beyond terrified. But Alex wasn't inside her, and for some reason, that made all the difference in the world.
She could feel Nefertiri's desire to get out into this world, as well as the baby's agitation, the agitation which she picked up from the mother. Evy didn't want to leave Ardeth. He needed them all. He needed their strength, their love. But, she was reminded, her daughter also needed her. And so, she allowed Celia to lead her out of the room, concentrating on calming herself and her child.
Her companion was a great help in this. Celia kept her voice low and soothing, talking to Nefertiri as if she was already there. She kept her hand in the small of Evy's back, and the Englishwoman was ashamed at the way she leaned against her companion. But Celia had strength to spare at the moment. Celia's voice soothed Nefertiri, and Evy had to wonder why. It was almost as if Celia was familiar to Nefertiri somehow.
And really, Evy wouldn't have blamed Celia for resenting her. Her friend needed to be with her husband, just as he needed her, but she was here. Sitting beside Evy at first, calming both mother and child with a lullabye drawn from the memories of Lady Ardath. Evy knew this, because she found the same song in the memories of Princess Nefertiri, and she hummed along until the contractions stopped. Eventually, she retreated to the bathroom for a washcloth to mop up the sweat on Evy's face.
"I'm feeling more than a little foolish, but my little girl is no longer in a hurry to join us. I'm so sorry, Celia, I know you want to be with Ardeth right now, I. . ." Evy began. Celia gave her a faint grin, squeezing Evy's hand again, and the pair fell silent. Evy thought about Ardeth again, and her eyes smarted with tears. Just when she thought she knew all the sides to Ardeth Bey which existed, another one made an appearance.
This time, she encountered the child who feared he failed his father. Evy longed to do much more than just kiss his forehead, and pretend to be his mother, but that would wait until after Nefertiri was born. Celia said unexpectedly, "Did I ever tell you about the night Miranda was born? I know I told you about Carstairs and how that came to be, but I don't think I ever told you about that night."
Evy shook her head, and Celia began, "A lot of storytellers begin their tales with the words, 'it was a dark and stormy night.' It invokes images in your head. After a while, those words lose their impact, because they've been used so much. So many horrors take place in the broad daylight. But this was a night just like that. I went into labor after an argument with Jason. I don't even remember what it was about. The phones were out, and I. . . things were a bit blurry."
Evy squeezed Celia's hand, and her friend went on, "I just remember. . .the pain. Lying at the bottom of the stairs, and not sure how I got there. I realized later that I was coming downstairs, because I heard knocking at the front door. But when I reached the last stair, I collapsed in pain. I actually lost consciousness. . .when I opened my eyes, my mother was there. She came to check on me, because of that argument with Jason."
Evy didn't make a noise, didn't even move. Celia didn't talk about her parents, and when Jason did, it was never pleasant. Celia continued, "I remember her half-dragging, half-carrying me into the next room. She kept saying. . .'not again, no, you can't have her.' She was crying, Evy. My mother, who never paid attention to me unless I did something she didn't like. . .was crying. Crying, and telling me that she loved me, she always loved me, and she always would love me. I thought I was dreaming."
Celia raised her eyes to Evy's, and she whispered, "She died that night, as my daughter was born. She ran into the street to get help for me. For the daughter who was such a disappointment to her." Evy swallowed hard, tears now stinging her eyes. Celia sighed, "The housekeeper delivered Miranda. The birth was difficult. I was in labor for hours, but she was a good midwife and there was no scarring, not too much bleeding."
"It wasn't your fault, Celia," Evy whispered, "your mother's death. It wasn't your fault at all. I think your mother finally realized that all those years, the roles were backward. And if it took her sacrificing her life to make things right, that was exactly what she would do. I don't know why your mother held herself back from you, for all those years. But in the end, she saved you and Miranda, didn't she?"
"Yes," Celia admitted softly, "she saved us both. 'Christine' was my mother's middle name, you know. I named Miranda. . .her middle name was a combination of 'Christine' and 'Annabelle.' When my mother ran in front of that car, she drew a lot of attention. My housekeeper had assistants now, and. . .and later, one of the police officers who was with my mother told me that she died with a smile on her face. Do you really think that was what happened? That she was being guided, to help me?"
"I'm sure of it," Evy replied. And she was. She wasn't sure why she knew that, or how she knew that. But every cell in her body told her that there was at least a part of Madeleine Ferguson which knew she was sacrificing herself for her child. She only wished it wasn't necessary. Celia needed a live mother, not a dead martyr. She needed her mother, so they could reconcile, and put things to rights. Together.
She was telling Celia the easiest part of the truth. But Evy suspected there was more. Everyone knew that Jason and Madeleine argued after Jason left his pregnant sister. Madeleine berated her son for failing his sister so terribly. Was it so far-fetched that Jason turned it around, reminding her that she was never there for her daughter? Celia was nurtured by her grandmother, and later nurtured her own brother.
It made sense. Jason lashed out when he was afraid or angry or guilty. Evy stopped and thought about that, frowning. Come to think of it, he reacted just as Rick did. Evy dismissed that and continued with her original train of thought. She didn't want to consider any similarities between her husband and Celia's brother. Jason would have reminded his mother that she failed Celia just as badly as he did, possibly even worse.
Guilt-ridden, Madeleine did the only thing she knew to do. She couldn't face the knowledge that she could have destroyed her daughter's life. . .and unable to cope with that, or with the responsibility of reaching out to her child, Madeleine chose death. She wasn't strong enough to do what was necessary, so she once more left the burden on Celia. Only this time, there were no more second chances, because Madeleine was dead, and Celia would forever wonder if she was to blame.
Was it possible that Evy was wrong? Of course it was. Madeleine was four years dead. But it made sense, though she said none of this to Celia. Instead, she squeezed her best friend's hand one last time, then told her, "I'm fine. See to Ardeth. Take care of him for me, for both of us." Celia hesistated, then nodded. Evy pushed herself up from the pillows, enveloping the other woman in a gentle hug.
Nefertiri made her presence known with a kick, and Celia actually giggled. Evy said with a laugh, "You see! Your niece agrees! Now, go, silly girl!" Celia glared at her, but refrained from reminding Evy that they were the same age. She always did have more self-control than Evy. She quietly left the room, leaving the Englishwoman to think about what came next. Where did they go from here and how did they save Ardeth?
. . .
*What comes next? What comes next, my dear girl, is I leave your husband in a world of hurt for thinking I didn't love my son! For saying that I did not cherish him and treasure him as he deserved!* Suleiman Bey stormed in the Afterlife, glowering down at the O'Connell manor. Andreas, for once, kept his mouth shut. Not because he thought his father was wrong, but because making a smart remark wouldn't help Ardeth.
*Father, he knows no better! You know how O'Connell is, he lashes out at anyone when he's angry and scared. Would you rather he lash out at Ardeth?* the young man finally asked. His father glowered at him, but Andreas stood his ground. He continued, *I saw those images, Father, just as you did. I saw Ardeth dying in my arms. I even saw what would have happened if the Creature rose before your death.*
Suleiman looked away, ashamed, and Andreas sighed. That almost happened. It would have happened, if he hadn't listened to his father (for once), and took a group of their men to deal with the priests intent on resurrecting Imhotep. They stopped them, and Suleiman sacrificed his life to buy time for his son. He sacrificed his life, because Nizam Toth was a traitor.
Toth! By the gods, Andreas wanted to make that monster pay for what was done to his family! The young man shook his head, aggravated, for he knew he would never have the kind of power needed to take down one like Nizam Toth. Ardeth had a better chance, because he was willing to work with other people. Even if they were people like Rick O'Connell. Fortunately, he had other allies. Like Celia.
In the months since Ardeth's wedding, Andreas learned a great deal about his sister-in-law. He knew she was sexually insatiable, that Ardeth slept peacefully in her arms, and she was exceedingly protective of his little brother. He knew that she was quietly teaching English to Imhotep, along with the ways of this new world. He trusted her about as much as he trusted anyone, and certainly more than he trusted the Med-jai.
*It is not an easy thing, my son. . .knowing that a single decision you make could end your entire world as you have known it,* Suleiman said softly, bringing his oldest's attention back to him. Andreas inclined his head. That was all too true. Knowing what he knew now, he gladly would have made the same mistakes he did sixteen years earlier, given a choice between his life and the life of his little brother, as well as their people.
*It was not your mistake which led to the rising of the Creature in that reality, Papa. It was mine. But you paid for it, as did Ardeth,* Andreas replied, remembering the sight of his young brother being beaten by Lock-nah. Suleiman looked at him sadly, and Andreas sighed. There was a very good reason why Ardeth reminded their mother so much of their father, and it went beyond the physical.
*You are my son, Andreas. My responsibility, just as your brothers and sisters are. Your mistakes are my own. The same is true of Ardeth,* Suleiman answered. Andreas glared at the older man, unwilling to hear any criticism of his little brother. Suleiman added, *Ardeth made mistakes. Of a different variety from yours, indeed, but mistakes nonetheless. You were careless, Andreas, and Ardeth was unwilling to trust.*
*He trusted O'Connell, did he not? He led our people through their darkest hour, and that was better than either of us did!* Andreas fired back and his father looked away. The young man shook his head, saying bitterly, *I understand why Ardeth always felt that nothing he did was good enough. Because there is no such thing, is there?*
*La. The difference between you and your brother, Andreas, was that he always took his responsibilities seriously, and you did not. You saw being chieftain as playing a magnificent game. Until Acacia was raped, it never occurred to you that there might be consequences for your actions. You failed to deal with Lock-nah, and your family paid for it,* his father replied.
Andreas didn't look away from his father, though the words hurt. He knew it to be truth, and hissed, *Yes. Yes, my carelessness resulted in my sister being violated, in my own death, and in the torture of my younger brother. It resulted in Ardeth fighting for his life, and then for his own birthright. He made a decision as an older brother. . . that was what he was, Father, and what he is. I left him no choice!*
*Untrue, my son. Your brother chose Anatol's safety over the good of the Med-jai. The Med-jai just lost one chieftain, they could not lose another. But Ardeth was not thinking as a chieftain, he was thinking as a young warrior who just lost one brother and faced losing another. There is no shame in making the wrong decision. He learned from it, Andreas, and that makes the difference,* Suleiman answered.
Andreas shook his head wildly, growling, *There you go again! You assume that Ardeth was thinking only of saving Anatol's life, but did it never occur to you that he was thinking of other things? That he was buying Anatol time to get to safety? If he and Anatol tried to outrun the bandits together, on one horse, they both would have died! And you wonder why O'Connell believes you do not love Ardeth?*
There was a flash of rage in his father's eyes, but Suleiman replied quietly, *No, my son. I know what Ardeth was thinking. I saw inside his heart. It is you who has assumed that Ardeth made his choice based solely on emotion. Yes, his choice was made partly from emotion, partly from an older brother's decision to protect the younger. But logic entered into the decision as well. Ardeth has always been one of our finest riders, Anatol, from an early age. He knew exactly what he was doing.*
Andreas stopped. . .and glared at his father, realizing what Suleiman just did. His father smiled faintly, adding, *Ardeth had the right of it. He thinks you are a great deal like O'Connell. And that reminds me, I still need to have words with that lout. Saying I do not love my son, that I did not cherish him while I drew breath! He will never know how much my children have meant to me!*
Andreas started laughing and said, *I am not the one who is much like O'Connell, Papa. You are, as well.* Suleiman glared at him, and Andreas laughed harder. After a moment, however, he stopped laughing. It wasn't that funny, and his laughter was due to tension, more than anything else. He was afraid for his little brother. He knew why this was happening to Ardeth, and that the gods were trying to teach O'Connell a lesson.
But he hated seeing his brother suffer. Hated seeing all of his siblings suffer, of course, but only one of his siblings was the chieftain of their people. Surely there were better ways to teach Rick O'Connell a lesson! He knew the answer, though. They had to make sure, once and for all, that O'Connell understood what his selfishness and his wife's curiosity cost Ardeth and the Med-jai. That didn't mean Andreas liked it. And he knew for a fact that his sister-in-law would like it even less when she found out about it.
*It will be all right, my son. There is only so much a human body can take, and neither Osiris nor Isis will allow any lasting harm to come to your brother,* Suleiman said softly. He smiled a bit ruefully, and added, //And Horus has informed me that he will deal with Rick O'Connell himself. There is no need for me to deal with him.// Andreas raised his brows at that, but said nothing.
. . .
Ardeth remained quiet for the rest of the night. As promised, Jonathan eventually returned with a chair for Rick, and the American remained at his friend's side. Evy went to bed after coaxing Rick and the rest of the family to eat something, and Alex trotted after his mother. To take care of her, he said, and no one told him that he couldn't do that. Alex was a lot like his father. He hated being helpless, more than anything else.
Jonathan slept in his own room, while Celia quietly made a bed for herself on the floor. Rick didn't try talking her out of it. In the first place, it would do no good, and in the second. . .he didn't have that right. Ardeth was her husband, and in her position, Rick knew nothing short of dynamite would have kept him from Evy's side. Celia gently kissed Ardeth's forehead, and nodded to Rick, then lay down on her make-shift bed.
Anck-su-namun materialized shortly thereafter, at Ardeth's bedside, opposite of where Rick sat now. She passed her hand over Ardeth's forehead, whispering something that Rick couldn't make out. And much as he hated to admit it, there was only pain and anxiety in the concubine's brown eyes. She loved Ardeth, he accepted now, just as much as Evy did. And she was just as frightened for him as they all were.
She was also there to watch over Celia. It never failed to amaze Rick, that protectiveness. He knew Celia was the reincarnation of her best friend. He remembered how strong the bond was between the two 'forever friends' was. But that was three thousand years ago, and Celia was not Ardath. They were very similar, of course. Not just because they had the same spirit, but because their personalities were very similar.
It should have surprised him more, the love which Anck bore for Ardeth. After all, he was her ancient enemy. The only Med-jai she cared for was her own bodyguard, Shakir. According his Terumun memories, there was a time when Anck hoped Shakir and Ardath would fall in love. Perhaps the young concubine would have lived longer, if that was the case. No one would ever know, and perhaps it was for the best. Especially after his dreams. Sometimes, it really was best *not* to know, what might have been.
The hours passed, and the house slept, all except for Rick. He would not leave Ardeth's side, not even to sleep. But Rick did grow lonely, and with no one else to pay attention, he quietly took Ardeth's hand. No words were spoken. There were too many times during the last few days when words failed him. Evy told him, when he checked on her briefly, that she thought it was time they all told Ardeth what he meant to them. No more ducking out, no more disguising your emotions with something else.
In the still of the night, with no one around, there was no place for Rick to hide. This was his fault. He couldn't hide from that knowledge. This entire situation was his fault. Ardeth's illness. . .he wasn't feeling well, and Rick drove him away because he didn't engage his brain before speaking. And if this was someone's idea of punishing Rick, then they could find another way, without dragging Ardeth into it.
Oh, that would be a first! Rick always accused Ardeth of dragging his family into the problems of the Med-jai, but that was backwards. Rick's family dragged Ardeth into their problems. That was what made it so unbearable now. He whispered as the sun rose, "How many times, buddy? How many times will you pay for our crimes? How many more times can I push you away, before you finally run out of patience?"
Okay, that last question wasn't necessary. Ardeth's patience vanished the moment Rick accused him of bringing trouble to their doorstep. He sighed, "I'm sorry, buddy. I should have never said that to you, of all people." A muffled sound tore his attention away from Ardeth, and Rick saw that Celia was starting to stir.
He carefully placed Ardeth's hand back on the blanket and grimaced at the pain in his back. He was thirty-five years old, he had no business pulling these damn all-nighters any more. But he couldn't leave Ardeth. Much as he wanted to remain in bed with his wife, and feel their daughter move under his hand. . .he couldn't leave Ardeth. After a moment, Celia sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
Rick showed considerable restraint (especially for him) in not laughing at her. Celia's dark hair was flat in some places and sticking up straight in others. He was especially glad that he didn't laugh at her when her confused eyes lit on Ardeth. Rick watched in silence as her expression changed from confused to stricken to angry then to resigned, as she remembered everything which happened during the last few days.
But all she asked was, "No change?" Rick shook his head, and Celia groaned as she pushed herself to her knees. Rick's laughter almost escaped him when he heard her mutter, "I'm getting too old for this." She wasn't even thirty-one. . .her birthday was in three weeks, while she and Ardeth were scheduled to be in Scotland. Rick knew because Ardeth asked him at one point what he should consider when buying his wife a gift.
The young bride wobbled over to the bed, and sat at the foot of the bed. As she had the previous night, Celia lightly caressed the inside of Ardeth's ankle, forcing Rick to look away. She whispered, ignoring Rick, "Good morning, my love. I need to check on Evy and get breakfast started, but I will be back as soon as I can. I love you."
Rick looked back as she finished speaking and rose to her feet. He really hated it when she touched the unconscious Ardeth like that. He always felt like an intruder. Celia said in a monotone, "I'll be back in an hour. I'm trusting my husband to you." Then she left, and Rick released his breath. His first inclination was to call her a bitch, then he realized she was civil. Which was really more reasonable than he usually was.
She was as good as her word, returning about an hour later with breakfast, then left again after Rick ate. It was her intention to find some more washclothes, so more than two people could sponge down Ardeth. This worked to Rick's benefit, since his hands ached this morning. She probably knew that, too. Even if she could barely speak to him, she wasn't fighting him, at least not while Ardeth was fighting for his life.
By the time noon rolled around, Rick no longer kept track of how long he sat here. It seemed like his world just shrunk down to just this room, and those who went in and out during the last two days. Evy looped her arms around his neck, saying softly, "You should get some rest. . .if not for yourself, then for him. He needs you strong right now, Rick, not exhausted." The American shook his head, his eyes focused on Ardeth.
"It's my fault, Evy. . .if I wasn't such an ass in the first place, none of this would have happened," Rick answered. He shook his head, trying desperately to shake the lump in his throat with the motion. There, he finally said it out loud. Not just to himself, but out loud. It wasn't his style to bother with fluffy sentiment or such guilt, but these were hardly normal circumstances. He had only to look at Ardeth again to know that.
Evy hugged him, whispering, "Celia was angry with you, Rick, she simply lashed out. Ardeth w. . ." Her voice trailed off as Rick drew her around to sit on his lap. Nope, he couldn't let her finish that sentence. The American looked into Evy's eyes. His wife. One of the two. . .soon to be three. . .most important people in his life. The mother of his child, and the center of his entire world, if he was truly honest about it.
But Ardeth was important, too. Over the last few days, he enumerated everything Ardeth did to protect his family. Everything that they went through since their first meeting, when as typical alpha males did, they tried to kill each other. Rick smiled in spite of himself. God, you know you're screwed when you remember someone trying to kill you with fondness. Maybe that was why he put into words what was bothering him.
He said in a low voice, "Ardeth is unconscious and likely dying, Evy. He collapsed at the train station, and just lay there for god knows how long. Don't. . .please don't tell me. . .that Ardeth would understand. Please don't tell me that. Because there is a very good possibility that he will never wake up." Evy just sighed, tightening her arms around Rick's neck. He wasn't telling her anything new, either.
"I won't tell you, then. And I wouldn't dream of telling you that he'll be all right. I don't know the future. But, honey, I do know this. Ardeth has never given up, not a moment in his life. He has even more to live for now, than he has ever before. What makes you think he'll give up now? Because you two had words? Because you tried his patience one time too many?" Evy asked.
She didn't say the words, but Rick heard them anyhow. *Do you think you're that important to Ardeth, that you determine whether he lives or dies? Just who do you think you are?* Rick swallowed hard. He didn't know to whom the voice belonged, but right now, it didn't matter. It was true that he was to blame for Ardeth's condition. . .for Ardeth being so sick. But it wasn't up to him, whether he lived or died.
That was up to Ardeth, and it was time Rick started accepting that. He made it harder for Ardeth, by taking his choices from him. Ardeth would choose to live. He would fight to live. Just like he fought for everything else in his life. Rick released a breath. He knew that Celia blamed him. . .but she didn't expect things from him that he couldn't give. All right. Then they would start with things he could give.
Evy was right. He took too much on himself during these last two days, perhaps because he took too much from Ardeth in the past. But there were other people in this house who wanted to take care of Ardeth, who could do the job. People who had things to tell him as well, apologies to make. Words to share. This wasn't about Rick, and he had to remember that. This was about Ardeth.
And he would start with the woman in his arms. She was gently caressing Ardeth's black hair, just as she did after Ardeth's last nightmare. Rick finally said, his voice very soft, "You're right. Will you be all right for an hour or so?" She nodded, sliding from his lap. It was rather awkward, given her pregnancy, but she managed it. Just like she managed almost everything else in their lives. Sometimes better than he did.
"I'll be fine. I've been dying to get Ardeth alone for the last day," Evy said with a mischievous grin. Rick rolled his eyes and kissed her lightly. He rested his hand lightly on Ardeth's shoulder for a moment, not sure what he should say to his unconscious friend. But Evy said softly, "We'll both be fine, Rick. It's time I started helping Ardeth too. Go." Rick nodded, glanced at Ardeth one last time, then quietly left the room.