Author's Note:
Thank you Ruse and Deana for withholding weapons - Ruse, I hope you've been seeing better days. Hold them a while more! ;-) A bit more Evy herea change in her which I suspect people may not wholly approve though - but yet, it's still a bit of angst to go first.
Chapter 12: Turn of the Tide
The crowd at the Mahadeva household was disconcerting, and the sudden company overwhelming, and their conversation deeply drenched in passion, entrenched in a reasoning that was at first, beyond her. But their tones rose and fell with the breaths that were collectively taken, and spirit of the times in which they spoke about caught flames as the words left their lipsshe breathed in their infectious fumes and grew heady with the golden political pitches that soon caused souls to soar to its particular strain of music.
The fruit is being picked, it is ripening! The day is raging, as it has never raged since the days of the Pharaoh.
They talked themselves into exhaustion and into zealous fits of rage and passion; nobody was left unaffected, Evelyn Carnahan included.
Wrong; it is the dedication to the text and the light of the Qu'ran that outshines the need to preserve beautiful monuments, more important than our attachment to architecture. The mosques that you see, are living; the pyramids or museums perhaps appeal more to the Western eyes, a glorious but dead past that you people of the West seem to revere more than what you see now.
Egypt was looted, they had said, plundered and raped - by the English, they had spatand she had felt most perplexed, for it was such that she was nevertheless, half-Englishperhaps even much more than she had cared to admit, proudly wanting to exhibit the Egyptian blood in her because it granted her more liberties than she had cared to think about.
Surely the Wafd had known that she was only partly Egyptian; the English part of what they despised nevertheless was a part of her that could not be deniedyet Severige and Najya had welcomed Jonathan and her wholeheartedly to their abode; they had provided for her on the terms that she was fundamentally related to them and hence, their fierce cause to liberate their country. They had accepted that she was not of pure Egyptian blood and that perhaps her convictions ran equally shallow in a person of mixed blood. Of course, she had never given an indication of allegiance, which they had hoped rather than assumed, automatically belonged to the Mahadevas -to the Wafd.
Our hands have been tied with this dual system and which man shall serve two masters? Is there an urge to dislike such? Miss Carnahan, you are an intelligent woman. Will you not consider and think for yourself, that our natural and proper reaction is to terminate this.
Their fevered and lengthy discourse at the dining table had renewed vigour in her, and stirred in her a sudden need to either flee or perish in martyrdom with these people, and she was never one who wanted to back down from a reckless challenge, even if the odds were the most uncertain yet. His rhetoric was inspiring; she was however unsure, torn between the poles of family loyalty and the own primal need to hide where it was safe; the instinct for self-protection was never stronger in moments when her confidence was shaken by the verbose conviction found in their speech.
Why do you delude yourself about your ancestry?
But the effervescent burst in her heart was the fullest realisation of the meaning of Egyptinisation that all revolutionaries hoped for, sudden and earth shattering for some, scorned by others who comfortably lived in their mute lives, routine and mundane.
Will you join the rank of despoilers, or will you stay unmoving, or will you fight for the same cause that your mother was fired to do?
The reckless manner in which she had thrown in her cards with the Wafd that night nearly deliriously drunk on the success of the talks and swayed by their persuasive entreaties, the night was not to end as yet. In burgeoning ecstasy she had wandered about the house in a haze tinged with the reddish hue of imminent blood-shed and laughter, immersed in the scent of impulse, only to walk into a still figure that stood against the doorway of her room.
Dulce Et Decorum Est.
"Jonathan!" Her hand on her chest signalled her shock.
Soft laughter wafted past her ears as she belated realised her mistake.
"Severige," She laughed with him. "I'm truly sorry - I thought Jon had returned"
Evelyn Carnahan had thought he was distant throughout the earlier conversation; that curious aloofness had returned slightly and she had never known him anything else other than the epitome of affability and to bear witness to such behaviour that was so out of sync with his character definitely was a cause for concern.
But within the space of a heartbeat, he had lifted her hand and squeezed it warmly, his eyes thanking her for halting the path of indecision that had lain underneath her footsteps since the time she had found out about her father.
The hesitance across his face contrasted with her radiant one, and the thickening tension was sliced by the initiation on his part when he bent his head and kissed her lips with a gentleness that would have turned feral had she not restrained herself from fully responding, but she stayed smilingly in his embrace, arms resting lightly on his shoulders.
"Forgive me, Evelyn," He murmured uncertainly against her. "I could see no greater way of showing my gratitude -"
"You have given me an ample demonstration, I think," She teased reflectively. "If this is your usual method of showing gratitude, then I can hardly imagine the queue of ladies who wait to pay homage!"
Severige shook his head ruefully. She now seemed made of pure fire, sparked into an ardent cause that was bent on cleansing and destruction, pure and simple, a thousand times better.
"It is no beggarly labour when you fight for something that you desire." This, spoken quietly by him, gave her no other way of interpreting this heavily charged statement, and she knew in that blink of the eye he referred not to the political situation at hand.
Desire - she had never felt its delectable pull so tangibly; Evelyn Carnahan had never chosen to view this side Severige, yet her choice was rendered moot at the exceptional display of this sensuality that he seldom allowed to fully surface.
"Never," she agreed, pulling away and putting distance between them even though he wanted to her to stay in the circle of his arms, but was also afraid of being burnt in the right blaze of that glory in her which he could very nearly see with his naked eye, so very admired. Evelyn Carnahan was a very beautiful woman, he thought, but it irked him nonetheless that he had nearly allowed his desires to run amok; she was a willing participant now with the Wafd, and this willingness was not yet extended to his person.
The intoxication of the hour had languished, its magic now fading, and it had left Evy with a cooling steel of nerve, deep in the recesses of her mind, thoughts were clicked into place, sliding into black and white, purging several emotions that she had thought to dear to release. She moaned slightly at the drain of these feelings; Severige saw a most unlikely yet extraordinary purge that was found in her eyes, the slide from softness and confusion to an icy hardness difficult to miss, a look that he found he liked.
It would not do, for both of them to succumb to raw emotion, despite the temptation that lurked and threatened to pounce in the single slip of a facial or verbal expression.
Severige swore softly to himself; the placid look on his face slid into place and in the reluctant flight to safe ground, he became once again the man Evy was familiar with, desire now shielded behind the barricades of cordiality.
"Actually, Evy," He began, "There is a rather urgent matter at hand and I think you do have the opportunity to be instrumental in it. I didcome to talk to you about this, even if you do not think so, but became distracted -"
A wolfish grin was appearing at the corner of her lips; there was no suppressing the excess that ran out of her that night, making neither effort to slow the anticipatory tip of her head upwards nor the deep, shaking breath inhaled.
"There has been a rather extensive looting in Deir-al Bahri, and our contacts have confirmed that it is extensive enough to require the interference of the Medjaiand their chief. You did hear earlier, that Ardeth Bay is an important man to usnegotiations are of utmost importance, you see."
"But what possibly can I do -?"
"Ardeth Bay trusts you," He replied flatly. "I believe he has not quite forgotten the role that you have played 3 years ago when Imhotep was raised - sending him back to his grave has surely bought you a place of favour within the Medjai."
"You assume that he will trust me easily, riding out on a horse with a white flag is hardly an idea that will be brought to fruition." She pointed out.
"I think you misunderstand. The Medjai are nomadic folk; they move around easily, hidden by the vast desert. Ardeth Bay can be an elusive man to find, but I pleaded with the Wafd that you should be ourforerunner, that you might perhaps be able to be this mediator when talks have all but failed," Severige qualified frankly. "It would do no good should the Wafd and its factions appear at the doorstep of the Medjai camp and be refused once again for another round of talks. Ardeth Bay and his remaining tribes however, are very valuable. But when both sides refuse a compromise..."
Severige left his sentence deliberately unfinished, watching her face closely.
"If I'm to understand you correctly, this assignment requires me to travel to Deir al-Bahri -"
He interrupted her almost immediately.
"No, Deir al- Bahri is now dead land. By this time, the Medjai would have sealed the tomb securely; they journey towards Cairo, I believe; it is here that they will re-gather to count their losses and purchase more supplies. The route is not as difficult as you think it is. At first glance it appears as if no visible path is trodden, but it is an ancient one that has been unchanged for centuries" At this he slowly pulled an aged map, hand-drawn, from the pocket of his waistcoat, gingerly unfolding from its limp edges.
She nodded at his urgently meted-out instructions, poring over the map, searing it into memory, suddenly anxious for herself and the possible repercussions of this action that she did not yet want to think about.
"What happens after? What happens when I fail, or when I succeed?" Evy questioned finally.
"You do not have to worry," he mused softly, somewhat vaguely. "I daresay you will be successful. You will not be captured - surely a friend of the Medjai deserves a better welcome. Ardeth Bay does not yet know that you hold the truth of the past generation."
But he shook his head, as if nervous.
"Should anything happen, something else will have to be worked out."
It was reassurance enough for Evelyn Carnahan.
"Deliver your best, Evy," He urged persuasively, adamant that she should not fail, so that the carefully crafted plans would not fall apart. "You have heard the cause for Egypt and I see from your face that you now feel it as strongly as we do."
With that lingering look and a hasty kiss on her cheek, he left her to her hurried preparations.
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*Dulce Et Decorum Est = From Wilfred Owen's famous war poem, the phrase that originated from Horace, meaning 'It is sweet and fitting to die for one's Fatherland'.
* Deir al-Bahri -The burial ground and royal tomb of Queen Nerfertiti.
A disclaimer here -
The opinions expressed below are only one side (and a small fraction!) of the whole argument concerning Nationalism, of which I'll play devil's advocate later by pitting these views against other seemingly contradictory ones. But it's all in the name of fun, really. No viewpoint is superior to any other and it is not my wish to elevate Ardeth's stand above the ideology of the Wafd (hey, don't we all know if he's delicious enough) because I think both parties are privy to their own stands, warped as their arguments might turn out to be for you after reading them. Feelings of loyalty can only be explained only to an extent rationally, and the deep seated emotions below I've tried to capture offer little explanation as to why they form the base of behaviour, but it's also for the same reason we celebrate humanity and yes, the reason why we also celebrate the absurdity of acting the way we think we should act. In short, the Wafd is as right as Ardeth in fiercely seizing every opportunity to proclaim Egyptian Independence, just as Ardeth is as right as the Wafd in wanting the Medjai to stay on the original course, and busy themselves with the ancients instead. It is just a matter of looking at an issue that has many facets to it.
We will find out more about Ardeth and what he has to say in the chapters to come.