I own and claim no rights to the motion picture, 'The Mummy,' or 'The Mummy
Returns.' Only characters not featured in either movie are created by me,
as well as the plot, and no similarities to any other fics are intended.
............................................................................ ................................
Darker Skies
............................................................................ .................................
Iset let out her breathe with a whoosh as she was flipped onto her back and landed in the hot sand. She lay there for several seconds longer than necessary, wishing she was somewhere else. She looked to the side and saw her father-in-law and her brothers, Bakare and Userib. Her brothers were trying not to laugh, while Ardeth had his fists on his waist, eyeing her disappointedly. For the past six weeks, they had been coming to the far dunes, on the other side of the desert that Siamun and his brother's practiced. Slowly but surely, Iset was progressing through her training. Though Ardeth had to admit that she was learning faster than he expected, she was still under-confident, and unable to get some of the more difficult lessons. She, like Sithathor, was more adept with the swords than with hand to hand combat, something Ardeth, Bakare and Userib were trying hard to alleviate. Unfortunately, as Iset reflected in her current position, they weren't getting very far. Bakare moved to his sister's sweating body and helped her rise. Iset winced as she felt the uncomfortable mass of sand all along the exposed flesh of her body that the training suit did not cover. The high top covered her breast, shoulders and a small amount of her arms. The pants began just above the waist, and hung loosely, flowing down her legs, making her more easily able to defend herself without the constricting confines of a sheath skirt. The rest of her body was bare, something she had realized with mortification the day her brother's presented her with the clothing. The material was light, airy and fit better on her female form than if she were to wear the men's training outfit, as Ardeth explained to her. The only problem was, whenever she was brought down, sand got on her body, a most uncomfortable situation. When she told Ardeth this, he simply smiled and told her to not let herself be beaten again, or else what can he do?
Iset turned away from the three men and sighed. Then, she bent her knees and closed her eyes, waiting for the tell tale sign that they were about to attack. Several seconds later, she heard a whoosh of air on her right, and did a split in the sand. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened for the breath of her attacker, and lifted a foot to kick him backwards. She could sense the other two circling her, waiting for her to drop her guard. Without warning, she felt a cool breeze of air head toward her face, and moved herself to the side. She heard a sharp command from Ardeth, and opened her eyes quickly. Glancing to the side she saw Userib rising from her attack, and Ardeth and Bakare circling her silently. Without warning, Bakare began to attack, his punches controlled. Iset was barely able to block them, her face etched in concentration, but it could be seen that she was just able to protect herself. Iset gave a hiss of anger, and turned away, flipping in the air, until she was several paces away. She used the extra time to rest somewhat, and could feel her body beginning to protest. She watched Ardeth and Bakare come at her at the same time, blocked one, and then the other. The fight became fierce, as Iset attempted wildly to block and attack at the same time. Out of no where, she felt hands on her shoulders pushing her backwards towards the ground. She felt a slight pressure on her back as she was catapulted into the sand. Userib rose to his feet and smiled down at Iset, while the girl growled in frustration. The only satisfaction Iset felt was the fact that both Bakare and Userib were panting slightly, signs that she had effected them in the fight. Ardeth of course stood tall and intimidating as he looked down at his daughter-in-law. If he was tired or if her fighting had effected him in anyway, he did not show it, which was the mark of a conditioned Medjai warrior.
Ardeth looked down at Iset and shook his head. "Iset, how many times must you be told?"
Iset looked away, her face flaming. Quietly she said, "Never turn your back on an enemy, even if you believe he is no longer a threat."
"Right," Ardeth told her softly. "If a man is down, unless he is dead, he is still a potential threat. If an opponent so much as twitches, than he is a danger to you. Never stop being aware of your surroundings. Survey the land, the place. Keep an eye on your enemies, but never let them know you are doing so. Be prepared for any little surprise."
Iset nodded, and took Ardeth's outstretched hand. Ardeth eyed her for several seconds, and Iset tried hard not to squirm. Then, "That is enough for today. It is getting late, and you still have to return to prepare your husband's meal."
Iset nodded and moved to the shadows of the dune to retrieve her swords and change. Ardeth and Iset's brothers moved to another dune to allow Iset some privacy. After she had dosed her hot body with cool water and changed back into her dress, she gathered her sword and dagger, tucking the latter in her belt, but beneath a layer of her dress, so her husband would not see it. She moved across the dune and joined her family. Together they walked back toward the Medjai village, Bakare with his arm around his sister's shoulders. They walked past several tents, one being Iset's parents. Iset's father, Omari stood outside and watched them walking toward Siamun's tent. Ardeth raised his hand in greeting, and Omari nodded in respect. However, when his eyes met with Iset's, she shivered at the anger she saw in them. She remembered the argument between Ardeth and Omari when he had approached her father to ask for his help in training her. Omari had vehemently refused, and demanding that Ardeth stop this nonsense. 'Woman should not be warriors.' Iset could see the way he had looked at her at that moment, like she was something he had never seen before, and never wanted to have seen. 'I won't disgrace you mother by telling her of this, but I will not help you make a mockery of my child. She is a wife. That should be enough for her.'
It should have been enough. But it wasn't. Iset wanted more than to be a subservient wife. At first she had wanted to stop the training because it angered her father, but once she had had the first lesson, something inside her opened. She wasn't just a woman. She was a Medjai. And she wanted to be a warrior, more than anything else. She thought that these thoughts should scare her, but they didn't. She felt finally free of the confines of tradition, just like Sithathor. Now Iset realized why Sithathor loved her training and how she could have been so independent, when such things were frowned upon. Yet there was still a part of her that was scared of what she would become. To be a warrior is a serious thing, and she still did not have the confidence that was needed to go to the next level in her training. With the swords she felt powerful, the weapons light, and easily maneuverable. She enjoyed the sword training, but she knew that she had to get better at hand to hand, before she could ever consider herself a true warrior.
The four reached Iset's tent and she hugged them each in return. She smiled at her brothers with deep love, as she knew that they risked their father's wrath by helping Ardeth make her 'a disgrace to women.' Bakare kissed Iset on the forehead, and left to water himself down. Userib smiled at Iset and put a hand on her shoulder. "No worries little sister. You will get it soon. It is the mark of a Khalil. You may be a Bay now, but you were first Khalil. Both of these names mark you as a warrior."
Iset laughed and placed her hand over the one he had on her shoulder. "Brother."
Userib grinned and turned to go to his tent. His wife was waiting for him outside, and he kissed Nyla on the mouth. Iset turned away from the sight, and met the gaze of Ardeth.
"You are doing very well Iset. I am surprised at how fast you are learning. You are almost as fast a learn as my son and his sister."
Iset blushed and bowed her head.
Ardeth sighed. "But you must learn that docility and fear are not the traits of warriors. Listen to the desert, become it's servant, but never let it defeat you."
Iset eyed Ardeth with concealed confusion, but managed to smile almost genuinely. "Yes father."
Ardeth left her then, returning to his tent. Mia stood outside, cooking their meal, and smiled up at her husband as he entered his tent. Mia's gaze darted over to Iset, and with calculating thoroughness, searched the younger girl's face for secrets. Iset kept her expression blank, knowing that Mia was curious as to where she went during most of the day. Ardeth had assigned Iset a maid, one of the younger girls who came every day and kept Iset and Siamun's tent clean and ready when Iset returned. Though her brothers and Ardeth usually entered camp after Iset so as not to raise eyes, today they were running late and there was no time. After several tense moments, Iset grew tired of the glare of her mother-in-law. She turned away and entered her tent, burying her bundle of weapons and clothing in a hole near the far wall of the tent. The next hour was a quick scramble to prepare the nightly meal. Iset felt a twinge of guilt, for since she had begun her training, her lunch visits with her husband and his brothers had stopped, something all of the Bay brothers had noticed. Iset was just completed with the soup, when she felt an arm encircle her waist.
Siamun pulled his wife back against him and kissed her neck. Iset smiled and turned in her husband's arms. They shared a passionate kiss, before Iset pulled away. She was panting softly. "If we keep like this, we will never eat dinner."
Siamun grinned and kissed his wife again on the neck, before moving away to put his training tools in their place. "My brothers and I missed you again today."
Iset froze in her task of pouring the soup in bowls. She swallowed silently, pasted a smile on her face and turned. "Why husband, I didn't think you cared."
Siamun's smile faded a little. "Of course I care. My brother's missed your conversation...and I missed you too."
In any other circumstances, Iset would have been overjoyed, but this was very bad. She searched her mind for an excuse, any excuse. Then an idea formed. "I am sorry my husband, I truly am. But my mother has needed my help with the women, and now that Nyla is expecting a child, she and my brother will need all the help they can get."
Siamun gazed at his wife, a frown on his face. He felt she was hiding something, but didn't know what. Still, he resolved himself to let it go...for now. "Alright. Now let's eat."
Iset let out a breath of nervous laughter, and turned back to the meal bowls. Her smile disappeared and she closed her eyes and sighed in relief. She finished filling the bowls and joined her husband to their meal.
Later that night, as Iset was slowly falling asleep in Siamun's arms, she felt the guilt over her lies wash over her. She stroked her husband's arm where it encircled her belly. She could hear the noises of the night in the desert's wind and shifted in her husband's embrace. Her eyes slowly dropped, as her ears rejoiced in the knowledge of the desert's power.
............................................................................ ................................
Cleo opened the door to her brother's home silently. Peering intently about, she noticed with relief, that no one was around. It was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon, something that her parent's would notice quickly, as school for Cleo didn't end until a little before three. So instead of going home, she came here. The young girl was tired of it all, and her idiot teacher wasn't helping her much in anything. "What is the point of going to school?" Cleo muttered to herself. "The teachers wouldn't know how to teach if a manual came and bit them on the ass..."
She paused for several seconds at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor. She glanced up, and smiled. Apparently her brother wasn't home. This was good. It meant that Cleo could hide until school let out. She moved to go up the steps, but paused as a noise coming from his brother's entertaining room reached her ears. Cautiously Cleo advanced toward the door that was open only a little. Looking through the crack between the doors, Cleo saw something that surprised her: Sithathor dancing. Dancing was the best that Cleo could describe what Hathy was doing. Hathy's body was moving and flowing like a gentle river to music Cleo guessed only Hathy could hear. Hathy's body twisted and swayed, her arms moving in the air. The dance had several kicking and slow punching movements, but it was not something that Cleo had ever seen.
Hathy did a small flip in the air, and as she landed, sank down to a split. She moved the upper part of her body forward, arms outstretched, as if she were trying to take something. Then, she rolled to her feet and did several cartwheels, until she was in the middle of two long silver objects that Cleo hadn't noticed before. Sithathor hunched down on her heels and took the objects in her hands, and Cleo got a good look at them. They were long, narrow swords with writing that Cleo couldn't make out on them. Hathy stood upright, then crouched in a defense position, and eyed an invisible opponent. Her sword movements were quick and fierce. Even with no one in the room to fight her, Cleo watched in utter amazement at the skill her sister-in-law possessed. Cleo felt a tug of envy. Even though her parents and her brother knew how to defend themselves, Cleo was considered to young to learn such things. Her mother and father eyed her as some porcelain doll that could break at any moment, her being their one and only daughter. The sword play continued for several minutes, each movement fascinating Cleo more and more.
As Hathy lifted her left leg in the air and swiped the sword in her right hand, Cleo watched as she faltered and stumbled forward a little. Sithathor pointed the swords to the ground, her body jerking as she took long deep breathes. Without warning, her face paled, she dropped the swords to the floor and hurried over to a small bucket, strategically placed away from the practice area. Cleo heard the sound of Sithathor's vomiting, mixed with her sorrowful moans. Opening the door wider, Cleo squeezed her body through the opening she had made, and moved toward Hathy.
Sithathor was sitting beside the bucket, her face over it, hair nearly making the bucket seem to disappear. Cleo went to her and placed her hand gently on Sithathor's shoulder. Sithathor tensed, and looked up. The older woman's face smiled painfully.
"Are you ok?" Cleo asked worriedly.
Sithathor tried once again to smile. "I am fine." She stood up slowly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the Follingsfields poisoned me when Alex and I ate with them."
Cleo's eyebrow raised. Cleo wouldn't put it past Ursula and her dimwit of a mother to pull something like that. "Did you talk to my parents?"
Sithathor nodded. "Your father said I probably have a bug that is going around..." Sithathor paused. "I still don't understand what he means."
Cleo laughed. "So, my dad thinks you just have a cold, or the flu or something?"
"I guess," Sithathor replied. She put her hand against her stomach and massaged it lightly. "God, this feels worse than the ship ride over here."
Cleo went and got Sithathor a small towel and some water. She handed the two items to Hathy, and the older woman smiled in thanks. Sithathor spilled some water onto the clothe and wiped her face and mouth clean. She took several sips and spit them into the bucket before swallowing some of the water. After disposing of the bucket, Sithathor bent and retrieved the swords. Taking the swords in one hand, and Cleo's hand in the other, she lead them upstairs to Sithathor's room. Cleo bounced joyfully on the soft bed, while Sithathor laughed. "So," Sithathor began, "What are you doing her?" She eyed the clock. "And so early as well!"
Cleo frowned. "School is such a bother! Those teachers know nothing of the world. They hide behind their books, and twist history to the way they like it. It is just dumb. I hate it there. I never want to go back."
Sithathor turned away from the vanity mirror nearby. "Where I come from, an education is a privilege. You should be happy to even be in school."
Cleo squirmed uncomfortably. "But it is so BORING! I already know more than half the things those idiots are teaching because my mum and dad have already taught me about them."
Sithathor moved a few feet toward the bed. "Still, you should show respect to your teachers and at least pretend to enjoy the class. One day I hope my children get the same opportunity to learn as you do."
"Why wouldn't they?" Cleo asked.
"I don't know," Sithathor replied. "I guess now it is not so far-fetched an idea here."
There was an amiable silence, then Sithathor said, "Ok, you can stay here-"
"Yes!" Cleo cried.
"-but only for today. I don't want you making a habit of missing school. And if your brother or parents find you here, I never saw you." Sithathor extended her hand. "Deal?"
Cleo considered for a moment, then placed her hand in Hathy's. "Deal."
Several hours later, Sithathor walked a tired Cleo home. The young girl had eaten dinner with Hathy and Alex, after Alex had told his parent's where she was. "Hey Hathy," Cleo said.
"Yes?"
"Can you teach me what you were doing today?" Cleo asked.
"You want to learn sword fighting?" Sithathor asked, amused.
"Yes, very much, please?"
Sithathor pondered for several seconds. "I'll talk to your parents about it. I'll convince them to let you learn."
Cleo cried out with joy and jumped into Sithathor's arms. "Oh thank you, thank you thank you, THANK YOU!"
With a laugh, Sithathor watched the nine year old run into her house. Turning, Sithathor moved back in the direction of her home. The lights from the lamps shone palely in the night. Sithathor heard the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot somewhere nearby. Tensing, she peered around subtly, her head barely moving. Her steps continued on steadily, but she stopped once she heard the noise again. She turned, and frowned. A breeze came and blew her hair away from her face. Without a word, she walked quickly to her home, opened the door, peered into the darkness one last time, then slammed the door shut.
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A/N: Eh, not so much happening this chapter, but I promise you, it will pick up...I hope. Yeah, well, I've been busy with school...trying to pass English and all that. Gosh, I had Mondays. Anyway, take care, and I hope to update again soon.
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Darker Skies
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Iset let out her breathe with a whoosh as she was flipped onto her back and landed in the hot sand. She lay there for several seconds longer than necessary, wishing she was somewhere else. She looked to the side and saw her father-in-law and her brothers, Bakare and Userib. Her brothers were trying not to laugh, while Ardeth had his fists on his waist, eyeing her disappointedly. For the past six weeks, they had been coming to the far dunes, on the other side of the desert that Siamun and his brother's practiced. Slowly but surely, Iset was progressing through her training. Though Ardeth had to admit that she was learning faster than he expected, she was still under-confident, and unable to get some of the more difficult lessons. She, like Sithathor, was more adept with the swords than with hand to hand combat, something Ardeth, Bakare and Userib were trying hard to alleviate. Unfortunately, as Iset reflected in her current position, they weren't getting very far. Bakare moved to his sister's sweating body and helped her rise. Iset winced as she felt the uncomfortable mass of sand all along the exposed flesh of her body that the training suit did not cover. The high top covered her breast, shoulders and a small amount of her arms. The pants began just above the waist, and hung loosely, flowing down her legs, making her more easily able to defend herself without the constricting confines of a sheath skirt. The rest of her body was bare, something she had realized with mortification the day her brother's presented her with the clothing. The material was light, airy and fit better on her female form than if she were to wear the men's training outfit, as Ardeth explained to her. The only problem was, whenever she was brought down, sand got on her body, a most uncomfortable situation. When she told Ardeth this, he simply smiled and told her to not let herself be beaten again, or else what can he do?
Iset turned away from the three men and sighed. Then, she bent her knees and closed her eyes, waiting for the tell tale sign that they were about to attack. Several seconds later, she heard a whoosh of air on her right, and did a split in the sand. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened for the breath of her attacker, and lifted a foot to kick him backwards. She could sense the other two circling her, waiting for her to drop her guard. Without warning, she felt a cool breeze of air head toward her face, and moved herself to the side. She heard a sharp command from Ardeth, and opened her eyes quickly. Glancing to the side she saw Userib rising from her attack, and Ardeth and Bakare circling her silently. Without warning, Bakare began to attack, his punches controlled. Iset was barely able to block them, her face etched in concentration, but it could be seen that she was just able to protect herself. Iset gave a hiss of anger, and turned away, flipping in the air, until she was several paces away. She used the extra time to rest somewhat, and could feel her body beginning to protest. She watched Ardeth and Bakare come at her at the same time, blocked one, and then the other. The fight became fierce, as Iset attempted wildly to block and attack at the same time. Out of no where, she felt hands on her shoulders pushing her backwards towards the ground. She felt a slight pressure on her back as she was catapulted into the sand. Userib rose to his feet and smiled down at Iset, while the girl growled in frustration. The only satisfaction Iset felt was the fact that both Bakare and Userib were panting slightly, signs that she had effected them in the fight. Ardeth of course stood tall and intimidating as he looked down at his daughter-in-law. If he was tired or if her fighting had effected him in anyway, he did not show it, which was the mark of a conditioned Medjai warrior.
Ardeth looked down at Iset and shook his head. "Iset, how many times must you be told?"
Iset looked away, her face flaming. Quietly she said, "Never turn your back on an enemy, even if you believe he is no longer a threat."
"Right," Ardeth told her softly. "If a man is down, unless he is dead, he is still a potential threat. If an opponent so much as twitches, than he is a danger to you. Never stop being aware of your surroundings. Survey the land, the place. Keep an eye on your enemies, but never let them know you are doing so. Be prepared for any little surprise."
Iset nodded, and took Ardeth's outstretched hand. Ardeth eyed her for several seconds, and Iset tried hard not to squirm. Then, "That is enough for today. It is getting late, and you still have to return to prepare your husband's meal."
Iset nodded and moved to the shadows of the dune to retrieve her swords and change. Ardeth and Iset's brothers moved to another dune to allow Iset some privacy. After she had dosed her hot body with cool water and changed back into her dress, she gathered her sword and dagger, tucking the latter in her belt, but beneath a layer of her dress, so her husband would not see it. She moved across the dune and joined her family. Together they walked back toward the Medjai village, Bakare with his arm around his sister's shoulders. They walked past several tents, one being Iset's parents. Iset's father, Omari stood outside and watched them walking toward Siamun's tent. Ardeth raised his hand in greeting, and Omari nodded in respect. However, when his eyes met with Iset's, she shivered at the anger she saw in them. She remembered the argument between Ardeth and Omari when he had approached her father to ask for his help in training her. Omari had vehemently refused, and demanding that Ardeth stop this nonsense. 'Woman should not be warriors.' Iset could see the way he had looked at her at that moment, like she was something he had never seen before, and never wanted to have seen. 'I won't disgrace you mother by telling her of this, but I will not help you make a mockery of my child. She is a wife. That should be enough for her.'
It should have been enough. But it wasn't. Iset wanted more than to be a subservient wife. At first she had wanted to stop the training because it angered her father, but once she had had the first lesson, something inside her opened. She wasn't just a woman. She was a Medjai. And she wanted to be a warrior, more than anything else. She thought that these thoughts should scare her, but they didn't. She felt finally free of the confines of tradition, just like Sithathor. Now Iset realized why Sithathor loved her training and how she could have been so independent, when such things were frowned upon. Yet there was still a part of her that was scared of what she would become. To be a warrior is a serious thing, and she still did not have the confidence that was needed to go to the next level in her training. With the swords she felt powerful, the weapons light, and easily maneuverable. She enjoyed the sword training, but she knew that she had to get better at hand to hand, before she could ever consider herself a true warrior.
The four reached Iset's tent and she hugged them each in return. She smiled at her brothers with deep love, as she knew that they risked their father's wrath by helping Ardeth make her 'a disgrace to women.' Bakare kissed Iset on the forehead, and left to water himself down. Userib smiled at Iset and put a hand on her shoulder. "No worries little sister. You will get it soon. It is the mark of a Khalil. You may be a Bay now, but you were first Khalil. Both of these names mark you as a warrior."
Iset laughed and placed her hand over the one he had on her shoulder. "Brother."
Userib grinned and turned to go to his tent. His wife was waiting for him outside, and he kissed Nyla on the mouth. Iset turned away from the sight, and met the gaze of Ardeth.
"You are doing very well Iset. I am surprised at how fast you are learning. You are almost as fast a learn as my son and his sister."
Iset blushed and bowed her head.
Ardeth sighed. "But you must learn that docility and fear are not the traits of warriors. Listen to the desert, become it's servant, but never let it defeat you."
Iset eyed Ardeth with concealed confusion, but managed to smile almost genuinely. "Yes father."
Ardeth left her then, returning to his tent. Mia stood outside, cooking their meal, and smiled up at her husband as he entered his tent. Mia's gaze darted over to Iset, and with calculating thoroughness, searched the younger girl's face for secrets. Iset kept her expression blank, knowing that Mia was curious as to where she went during most of the day. Ardeth had assigned Iset a maid, one of the younger girls who came every day and kept Iset and Siamun's tent clean and ready when Iset returned. Though her brothers and Ardeth usually entered camp after Iset so as not to raise eyes, today they were running late and there was no time. After several tense moments, Iset grew tired of the glare of her mother-in-law. She turned away and entered her tent, burying her bundle of weapons and clothing in a hole near the far wall of the tent. The next hour was a quick scramble to prepare the nightly meal. Iset felt a twinge of guilt, for since she had begun her training, her lunch visits with her husband and his brothers had stopped, something all of the Bay brothers had noticed. Iset was just completed with the soup, when she felt an arm encircle her waist.
Siamun pulled his wife back against him and kissed her neck. Iset smiled and turned in her husband's arms. They shared a passionate kiss, before Iset pulled away. She was panting softly. "If we keep like this, we will never eat dinner."
Siamun grinned and kissed his wife again on the neck, before moving away to put his training tools in their place. "My brothers and I missed you again today."
Iset froze in her task of pouring the soup in bowls. She swallowed silently, pasted a smile on her face and turned. "Why husband, I didn't think you cared."
Siamun's smile faded a little. "Of course I care. My brother's missed your conversation...and I missed you too."
In any other circumstances, Iset would have been overjoyed, but this was very bad. She searched her mind for an excuse, any excuse. Then an idea formed. "I am sorry my husband, I truly am. But my mother has needed my help with the women, and now that Nyla is expecting a child, she and my brother will need all the help they can get."
Siamun gazed at his wife, a frown on his face. He felt she was hiding something, but didn't know what. Still, he resolved himself to let it go...for now. "Alright. Now let's eat."
Iset let out a breath of nervous laughter, and turned back to the meal bowls. Her smile disappeared and she closed her eyes and sighed in relief. She finished filling the bowls and joined her husband to their meal.
Later that night, as Iset was slowly falling asleep in Siamun's arms, she felt the guilt over her lies wash over her. She stroked her husband's arm where it encircled her belly. She could hear the noises of the night in the desert's wind and shifted in her husband's embrace. Her eyes slowly dropped, as her ears rejoiced in the knowledge of the desert's power.
............................................................................ ................................
Cleo opened the door to her brother's home silently. Peering intently about, she noticed with relief, that no one was around. It was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon, something that her parent's would notice quickly, as school for Cleo didn't end until a little before three. So instead of going home, she came here. The young girl was tired of it all, and her idiot teacher wasn't helping her much in anything. "What is the point of going to school?" Cleo muttered to herself. "The teachers wouldn't know how to teach if a manual came and bit them on the ass..."
She paused for several seconds at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor. She glanced up, and smiled. Apparently her brother wasn't home. This was good. It meant that Cleo could hide until school let out. She moved to go up the steps, but paused as a noise coming from his brother's entertaining room reached her ears. Cautiously Cleo advanced toward the door that was open only a little. Looking through the crack between the doors, Cleo saw something that surprised her: Sithathor dancing. Dancing was the best that Cleo could describe what Hathy was doing. Hathy's body was moving and flowing like a gentle river to music Cleo guessed only Hathy could hear. Hathy's body twisted and swayed, her arms moving in the air. The dance had several kicking and slow punching movements, but it was not something that Cleo had ever seen.
Hathy did a small flip in the air, and as she landed, sank down to a split. She moved the upper part of her body forward, arms outstretched, as if she were trying to take something. Then, she rolled to her feet and did several cartwheels, until she was in the middle of two long silver objects that Cleo hadn't noticed before. Sithathor hunched down on her heels and took the objects in her hands, and Cleo got a good look at them. They were long, narrow swords with writing that Cleo couldn't make out on them. Hathy stood upright, then crouched in a defense position, and eyed an invisible opponent. Her sword movements were quick and fierce. Even with no one in the room to fight her, Cleo watched in utter amazement at the skill her sister-in-law possessed. Cleo felt a tug of envy. Even though her parents and her brother knew how to defend themselves, Cleo was considered to young to learn such things. Her mother and father eyed her as some porcelain doll that could break at any moment, her being their one and only daughter. The sword play continued for several minutes, each movement fascinating Cleo more and more.
As Hathy lifted her left leg in the air and swiped the sword in her right hand, Cleo watched as she faltered and stumbled forward a little. Sithathor pointed the swords to the ground, her body jerking as she took long deep breathes. Without warning, her face paled, she dropped the swords to the floor and hurried over to a small bucket, strategically placed away from the practice area. Cleo heard the sound of Sithathor's vomiting, mixed with her sorrowful moans. Opening the door wider, Cleo squeezed her body through the opening she had made, and moved toward Hathy.
Sithathor was sitting beside the bucket, her face over it, hair nearly making the bucket seem to disappear. Cleo went to her and placed her hand gently on Sithathor's shoulder. Sithathor tensed, and looked up. The older woman's face smiled painfully.
"Are you ok?" Cleo asked worriedly.
Sithathor tried once again to smile. "I am fine." She stood up slowly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the Follingsfields poisoned me when Alex and I ate with them."
Cleo's eyebrow raised. Cleo wouldn't put it past Ursula and her dimwit of a mother to pull something like that. "Did you talk to my parents?"
Sithathor nodded. "Your father said I probably have a bug that is going around..." Sithathor paused. "I still don't understand what he means."
Cleo laughed. "So, my dad thinks you just have a cold, or the flu or something?"
"I guess," Sithathor replied. She put her hand against her stomach and massaged it lightly. "God, this feels worse than the ship ride over here."
Cleo went and got Sithathor a small towel and some water. She handed the two items to Hathy, and the older woman smiled in thanks. Sithathor spilled some water onto the clothe and wiped her face and mouth clean. She took several sips and spit them into the bucket before swallowing some of the water. After disposing of the bucket, Sithathor bent and retrieved the swords. Taking the swords in one hand, and Cleo's hand in the other, she lead them upstairs to Sithathor's room. Cleo bounced joyfully on the soft bed, while Sithathor laughed. "So," Sithathor began, "What are you doing her?" She eyed the clock. "And so early as well!"
Cleo frowned. "School is such a bother! Those teachers know nothing of the world. They hide behind their books, and twist history to the way they like it. It is just dumb. I hate it there. I never want to go back."
Sithathor turned away from the vanity mirror nearby. "Where I come from, an education is a privilege. You should be happy to even be in school."
Cleo squirmed uncomfortably. "But it is so BORING! I already know more than half the things those idiots are teaching because my mum and dad have already taught me about them."
Sithathor moved a few feet toward the bed. "Still, you should show respect to your teachers and at least pretend to enjoy the class. One day I hope my children get the same opportunity to learn as you do."
"Why wouldn't they?" Cleo asked.
"I don't know," Sithathor replied. "I guess now it is not so far-fetched an idea here."
There was an amiable silence, then Sithathor said, "Ok, you can stay here-"
"Yes!" Cleo cried.
"-but only for today. I don't want you making a habit of missing school. And if your brother or parents find you here, I never saw you." Sithathor extended her hand. "Deal?"
Cleo considered for a moment, then placed her hand in Hathy's. "Deal."
Several hours later, Sithathor walked a tired Cleo home. The young girl had eaten dinner with Hathy and Alex, after Alex had told his parent's where she was. "Hey Hathy," Cleo said.
"Yes?"
"Can you teach me what you were doing today?" Cleo asked.
"You want to learn sword fighting?" Sithathor asked, amused.
"Yes, very much, please?"
Sithathor pondered for several seconds. "I'll talk to your parents about it. I'll convince them to let you learn."
Cleo cried out with joy and jumped into Sithathor's arms. "Oh thank you, thank you thank you, THANK YOU!"
With a laugh, Sithathor watched the nine year old run into her house. Turning, Sithathor moved back in the direction of her home. The lights from the lamps shone palely in the night. Sithathor heard the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot somewhere nearby. Tensing, she peered around subtly, her head barely moving. Her steps continued on steadily, but she stopped once she heard the noise again. She turned, and frowned. A breeze came and blew her hair away from her face. Without a word, she walked quickly to her home, opened the door, peered into the darkness one last time, then slammed the door shut.
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A/N: Eh, not so much happening this chapter, but I promise you, it will pick up...I hope. Yeah, well, I've been busy with school...trying to pass English and all that. Gosh, I had Mondays. Anyway, take care, and I hope to update again soon.