Chapter 20

"We are soldiers. It is a great brotherhood, which adds something of
the good-fellowship of the folk-song, of the feeling of solidarity of convicts,
and of the desperate loyalty to one another of men condemned to death, to a
condition of life arising out of the midst of danger, out of the tension and
forlornness of death."
Erich Maria Remarque - All Quiet on the Western Front

"it seems you're having some trouble

in dealing with these changes

living with these changes

the world is a scary place

now that you've woken up the demon in me

madness has now come over me"

Disturbed "Down with the Sickness"

~*~

On the second day of the Medjai's march to Jahm's camp, the mood of the warriors had inexplicably changed.  Rick was never quite certain when it had happened, but he could almost feel it; like a restless, prowling beast, it had overcome and quieted the men.  Gone were the moments of levity shared from the day before.  He was still surrounded by Kedar, Berin, Zaki and the rest of the warriors assigned to be his escort but even Jameel, who in Rick's opinion had seemed to be almost cheerful for a warrior, had become pensive and withdrawn.

Towards noon, the warriors came across some of the enemy's scouts who were trying to ascertain the size and strength of the Medjai.  Rick watched with morbid fascination as several of the warriors broke from the ranks and pursued the fleeing men, howling like a horde of demons.  The men were dispatched with a cold and precise execution; surrounded and consumed, they disappeared beneath the thundering hooves as the Medjai marched onwards. 

Rick wasn't sure what disturbed him more:  witnessing the savage ferocity displayed by the men he had come to know over the past few days or the fact that he felt a grim satisfaction that justice was finally being rendered. 

"Remember, ya sahib," Kedar said as he rode alongside of Rick.  "No mercy, for they would show you none."

"Yeah, I know," Rick replied and lapsed into his own thoughts.  Suddenly he felt a stab of compassion for the faceless enemy they were riding out to meet, but it was quickly subdued.  Rick almost smiled at the prospect of the coming battle.  In response, he felt his blood surge through his veins, his heartbeat accelerated, and God help him, he was looking forward to getting his revenge. 

At dusk, the commanders called for a rest and Quadamah informed Rick they would use the cover of darkness and attack at midnight.  As camp was set up, no fires were allowed and an eerie stillness settled over the desert, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash of men.  The warriors said little, each lost in his own thoughts as they prepared their weapons, checked ammunition belts and cleaned rifles.  Rick dismounted and watched as some drew their scimitars, the blades whistling through the air as if in anticipation of the kill.  Others checked their horses, adjusted the bit and halter, shifted the saddle and hung loops of rope down one side.  Rick had wanted to ask why they had made that modification but before he had the chance to ask Kedar, Jericho interrupted his thoughts.  "Quadamah wants you to come along with the rest of the commanders.  From the reports we have received from our scouts during the day, we think it would be wise to ride ahead and see the layout of the camp for ourselves," Jericho said. 

"Right," Rick replied and climbed back up into the saddle.  He hid the grimace of pain he felt in his shoulder then pushed it down deep inside, next to the pain he still felt over the loss of Ardeth.  He felt himself sliding into the same madness that prevailed over the warriors and he embraced it, smiling grimly as he rode after Jericho. 

With the cold, pale silver orb of the moon as their constant companion, Rick and the warriors cautiously approached the enemy's camp from the northeast.  They dismounted a short distance away and crawled forward through the sand until they crested a large dune that overlooked the camp below.  Through hand signals and gestures, Rick and the warriors carefully noted every detail:  from the size of Jahm's army to the wagon that was suspiciously resting at the side of one tent.  Speculation that the chest was inside was noted and, deciding the reconnaissance was over, Quadamah indicated that they should return to camp. 

Once there, Rick dismounted and followed the warriors to where they were standing off to one side.  As they talked among themselves, Quadamah used the moonlight for illumination and drew a crude map in the sand.

"It has been decided that the Tribe of the Seventh will attack the camp from the northeast, and the Tribes of the Second and Fourth will simultaneously attack from the northwest and south.  Additional support will come from the Tribes of the First and Ninth; their marksmen will provide the cover we need when engaged in a full frontal charge.  The Tribes of the Tenth and Eleventh will wait for further instructions and as previously agreed, the Tribe of the Third will wait for O'Connell and the chest."

The warrior Rick recognized the sub-commander of the Tribe of the Second had a question, but eventually the meeting was concluded.  The warriors dispersed; each seemingly once again lost in his own thoughts. 

As Rick walked back to his horse, he found Jericho walking alongside him, and decided to take the opportunity to talk to the warrior.  Jericho for some odd reason reminded him of Ardeth; perhaps it was the same style of goatee that outlined his face or the quiet and concentrated gaze of his dark eyes.  He had taken off his turban and had pushed a hand through his short, cropped hair, the one defining characteristic that set him apart from most of the warriors Rick had seen. 

As Rick asked Jericho a few questions, he noticed the warrior's attention was focused on something over his shoulder.  Rick finally turned around, curious to see what had captured it.  "During such dark and trying times as these, Jameel manages to unintentionally remind us of the more innocent and harmless aspects of life," Jericho stated.

Despite the anticipation of riding into upcoming battle, Rick watched with a grin as Jameel seemed to have no interest in performing the preparations that his brethren had done.  Rick turned to Jericho and felt compelled to ask, "What's he doing?"

"Jameel is doing what he has loved to do since he was a youth – gazing up at the stars," Jericho replied with a smile.  "He is heeding the call of our ancestors, using them as a guide and a source of comfort, always enchanted by their ethereal and timeless beauty."  Suddenly a shooting star streaked across the heavens.  Both men heard Jameel's exclamation of surprise and watched as he pointed out the spectacular sight to another warrior, who seemed to be patiently listening to Jameel's excited observations.

"That is a good omen," Jericho stated quietly.  "Victory will be ours this night."

"I hope so," Rick said and leaned against his horse for a moment.  "I certainly hope so."

~*~

Patience was a virtue; at least that's what his sister had always said.  All good things come to those who wait; that was the philosophy he tried to apply when playing a game of cards.  Show no emotion, bluff your way through a bad hand and always hope that the tide of fortune will eventually turn in your favor.

So why did it feel like his bluff was being called now, and that the tide in his relationship with his nephew was about to change?  Why on earth did he feel this incessant pull to go see Alex and humbly introduce himself as his uncle?

"I have no bloody idea why," Jonathan whispered to himself and rubbed a hand over his face.  God, he smelled horrible:  a pungent combination of stale wine and cigar smoke that made his nose wrinkle in disgust.  And most likely he looked ghastly as well:  eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, his hair and clothes rumpled from too many nights spent at the gaming tables.  Since the baby's birth, Jonathan had studiously avoided all contact with mother and son, preferring to wallow in his own self-indulgence.  It was better to lose himself in a game of cards then admit that when he saw Evy holding Alex, he was envious.  And his own longings for a wife, a friend and lover, would momentarily flood his heart before he pushed them back down again.  Now was not the time for love, not when he had a fortune to win – at least that was what he told himself every night before going out.  Once he had managed to recoup some of the wealth he had lost to his gambling friends in the past year, maybe then he could turn his attention to other matters.  

And yet he stood, partially hidden in the doorway of the nursery and watched the tender scene before him with quiet contemplation.    

Jonathan heard Evy talking to Alex, her voice soft and sweet, as she reached down into the crib and tickled one of Alex's feet.  He couldn't help but smile from the immediate response as Alex's infectious laughter rang through the nursery.  Evy laughed with her son and would have continued the game but was interrupted when the maid walked through the adjacent doorway.

"Begging yer pardon, mum, but there's a man waiting in the parlor from the British Museum with a message fer ye," she said.

Evy looked surprised but informed the maid she would come down and finished getting Alex ready for his nap. 

Jonathan stepped backwards to conceal himself in case Evy walked towards him, but she followed the maid out and he breathed a sigh of relief.  A confrontation with Evy about his lifestyle was something Jonathan had no desire to engage in at the moment; he had something more important to do. 

Reverently, he walked inside the nursery and over to the crib, his nostrils flaring from the pleasant smell of talcum powder and of freshly washed clothes.  He stared at the little being his sister and Rick had created and when Alex looked up and greeted him with a toothless grin, Jonathan's heart was lost.

"Well hello, little man," Jonathan said quietly.  He leaned on the side of the crib and reached down with one finger to tenderly touch Alex's soft cheek.   "I think it's time you and I had a talk, don't you agree?"

Alex blew his uncle a raspberry and waved one tiny fist in the air.  Jonathan couldn't help but laugh.  "I see you've most certainly inherited that trait from your mother."  

Darting a quick glance to both doorways to make certain he was alone, Jonathan began to slowly build the relationship between them that would make them more than just uncle and nephew:  it would make them friends. 

~*~

The second day of travel for Ardeth and Sued passed almost identically as the first with one minor complication.  In his haste to administer the herbs to help Ardeth the previous night, Sued had inadvertently given more than the dosage Asiya had measured into small bags.  The consequence caused Ardeth to sleep through the night and well into the following morning, the only movement coming from the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

By noon, Sued was frantically trying to wake the warrior, succeeding only after he splashed a small amount of water into Ardeth's face.  He fretted over the precious time lost as he helped Ardeth acclimate himself, and used any means to motivate him, ranging from threats to entreaties.  Sluggishly Ardeth responded, and finally they were ready to mount.

Sued helped Ardeth limp towards his horse but before they had reached the animal's side, Nijm Zarik regarded them for a moment with his gentle, brown eyes and then slowly lowered himself to the ground. 

"I assume that will be in your story?" Ardeth asked with a small smile.

Sued shifted the warrior's weight and helped him climb into the saddle.  "Of course," he replied with a grin but it slowly evaporated as his concerns resurfaced.  "We need to cover as much ground as possible today.  If we can keep up a steady pace, we should be able to reach el Gharbiya by nightfall."

"Then we shall keep a steady pace," Ardeth replied and gave the command for Nijm Zarik to rise. 

Sued watched him carefully, pleased to see the warrior able to keep his seat in the saddle with little difficulty and quickly mounted his own horse. 

"Honored Helper."

The formal address made Sued to look over at Ardeth in surprise but he replied with a slight nod of his head.  "Commander Bay."

"No matter what happens during the remainder of the day, we must keep traveling.  If I should fall behind or am unable to stay mounted, I ask that you take the necessary measures to ensure that I do not further hinder our progress.  We must reach our destination by nightfall," Ardeth stated firmly.

"I understand," Sued replied.  "And I will pray to Allah that such measures will prove to be unnecessary."

~*~

As Ardeth and Sued rode through the desert at a brisk pace, Ardeth carefully hid his exhaustion from the helper; to complain about it or his lack of focus seemed pointless.  He was certain he was still experiencing some of the side effects from Sued's inadvertent overdose.  He needed something to take his attention away from the monotonous and never-ending desert landscape.  Instead he used what was left of his meager concentration and sorted through the dream he had the night before, the images still vivid in his mind's eye.  He needed to understand…

~*~

It started out as the same dream…those hands that always held him down, always forced him relive the horrific moments of when he lost his wife and child…of when his life had irrevocably changed.  Ardeth tensed, fought down the fear that knotted his stomach, and wanted to close his eyes to block out the images but…the hands that held him now were somehow different.  They still restrained him as they roughly pulled him off the ground. Rough, eager hands shoved him towards a tent and through the entrance…Ardeth lost his balance and would have fallen to his knees but then something strange happened…soft, gentle hands caught him and helped him to his feet. 

He blinked in surprise at the white, almost blinding light that filled the tent and as it slowly diminished, he found himself staring into the beautiful face of…

"Janan," Ardeth whispered hoarsely. 

She was as his heart will always remember her; the tender loving smile on her face, the dark curtain of her hair hanging around her body like a soft cloud, the gentleness of her touch as she reached out and caressed Ardeth's face.  Silently she beckoned him to her side and with one arm, she swept it across the expanse of the tent's interior.

"Life will always have shadows and light," her sweet voice spoke inside Ardeth's head.  "One cannot exist without the other, it is part of the eternal balance of the universe.  When the scales in this balance are tipped one way or the other, you must try and find the equilibrium once again."

Ardeth looked to the four corners of the tent and saw that they were dark and gloomy; filled with shapeless, seething masses that emitted sounds of sorrow and despair, of hatred and intolerance.  The corner to his left was the largest and it slowly crept out towards him with long, tentacle-like fingers as if seeking to capture him; instinctively Ardeth took a step away from it.  He felt, rather than heard, Janan's sigh of approval a moment later and he turned back to the woman who once was his wife, his reason for living.

"Your life now stands on a precipice, dancing along the knife's edge between what you once knew and what could be…you must choose your destiny.  Will you linger in the shadows, your whole life void of any warmth or love?" Janan asked and pointed to the other corners of the tent.  They suddenly came alive, showing scenes of loneliness and desolation.  "Or will you choose the light, to live a life filled with warmth from one woman's love, a woman who has helped you achieve the balance once again?"

Ardeth looked to the center of the tent and to his amazement, he saw the shape of Asiya take form.  She looked radiant and beautiful, the light of her soul making her countenance shine brightly and Ardeth felt his heart swell with pride.  She could be his…

"All you have to do is reach for her," Janan softly instructed.  "Reach for the life you were meant to have, for the life that was denied you.  And I pray that the lessons learned from loving Asiya will give you the strength you need to escape the shadows that seek to reclaim you."

Ardeth took a step forward and reached out with one hand and yet…he hesitated and looked back at Janan.  "I will always love you," he whispered solemnly. "You were my wife, my love…"

"Your friend and lover," Janan finished for him with a smile.  "I will always love you, my handsome warrior.  And as the years of your life spin towards their inevitable conclusion, we will meet again in Paradise.  I shall welcome both you and Asiya with an open heart and open arms…"

"Janan?" Ardeth called out in fear when her form started to shimmer and dissolve. He spun around, the tent now silent and empty except the four shadowed corners that still called out to him with a siren's deadly call.  There were no more hands holding him down or pushing him and Ardeth looked towards the center once again, hoping to see Asiya.

The gods must have heard his desire as she appeared once again, her eyes shining with love, her arms out and open to him…

"Warrior?" she called out.

"Healer," Ardeth replied and gladly walked into the light…

In his heart, he finally said goodbye to Janan and knew she was happy with his decision.

~*~

"Now I want you to pay close attention, Alex," Jonathan said to his nephew as he carried the baby in his arms and paced around the nursery.  Alex had been fussing a little in his crib and Jonathan had quickly gathered the baby into his arms so his cries wouldn't bring Evy back up to soon.  "There is a card called the king, and like the monarch that he is pictured to be, he should rule all the suits – Hearts, Spades, Clubs and Diamonds.  Problem is-I don't see too much of him, or any other cards of power for that matter, which could help me rule the game."  Jonathan smiled at his joke but laughed when Alex cooed at him.

"I say, you are a bright little fellow, aren't you?" he crooned to Alex and gently touched the baby's nose with his finger.  Vivid blue eyes stared up at him and Jonathan thought their expression was an odd mixture of innocence and ancient wisdom. 

"I can honestly say he takes after his mother on that personality trait," Evy spoke up from the doorway.

Jonathan turned around, chagrined at being caught and had a protest or denial, whichever was needed, ready to spring forth from his lips.  However the look on his sister's face stopped him.   "Are you all right, old mum?  You look like you've received a bit of bad news."

Evy smiled wanly at Jonathan as she walked over to him, and he expected her to immediately take Alex from him but he was surprised when she passed by him and flopped down into a nearby chair.  "I've just received a message from the Bembridge scholars and I'm not sure how to feel about it," she said and waved a piece of paper in the air.

Jonathan shifted Alex to his shoulder and walked over to his sister, remembering from past experiences how those damn scholars loved to torture her and remind her of her archeological inadequacies.  "Well, let's take this a step at a time.  What does the message say?" he asked. It felt good to fall into the much worn but comforting role as the older brother, a role which Jonathan had never had the chance to perfect.

"They have suddenly decided to replace the current curator of the British museum with complete stranger," Evy stated as she read the message again.  "Why I have no idea but they're asking if I can help this…this Mr. Umeer Hafez get situated once he arrives in London and of course…"

"Show him around the museum," Jonathan finished for her. 

"Yes, like I did the old curator and the one before that…" Evy sighed in frustration.  She crumpled up the message and threw it into the nearby wastebasket.

"Always the bridesmaid but never the bride, eh my sweet sister?" Jonathan teased, hoping to snap Evy out of her pout.  Alex started to rub his face against his shoulder and he looked at Evy in surprise, wondering what the baby was doing.

Evy stood up and tried to glare at Jonathan as she gently took Alex from his arms.  She cradled her son against her shoulder and soothingly rubbed his back with her hand, murmuring to him as she carried him back to his crib.  "Really, Jon, this is no time for jokes.  Normally I would have no problem in doing what the boys at Bembridge ask but this time, the timing is just too…too convenient."

Jonathan followed them over, watching as Alex yawned and rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists.  He felt a little lost without the baby in his arms and certainly a tad colder, never realizing how much heat that little body could generate.  Images of him laying on one of the comfortable couches downstairs for an afternoon nap with Alex cuddled on his chest were certainly tempting.  And appalling.  When did he stop thinking about beautiful women and start thinking of his nephew? 

Jonathan tried not to frown at the way his thoughts had wandered and focused back on the problem at hand.  "All right then, granted I've been out of the family loop for a wee bit but explain to me why this is a bad thing?" Evy settled Alex down for his long overdue nap and slowly pulled a blanket over her now sleeping son.  She looked up at Jonathan and he could actually sense she was seeing him, beyond the dirt, the smoke and the red eyes.  Her perusal of him was concise, a retort about his appearance or his bad habits of late ready to tumble from her lips but instead, she surprised him with a whispered answer.

"Rick is bringing back Imhotep's chest from Egypt to be stored here in England for safe keeping," she stated quietly.  "I've made arrangements for it to be kept in a nearby vault, but I haven't heard from Rick at all since he left.  I find it odd that now the scholars decide to replace the curator with a man whom we know nothing about." "Bloody hell," Jonathan whispered back.  "Talk about poor timing."

Brother and sister lapsed into silence as they quietly walked out of the nursery.  Once they were in the hallway, Jonathan was struck with inspiration.  "What do you say to a little research on our new friend, Mr. Hafez?  Either confirm or discredit any suspicions you may have about him."

Evy seemed unimpressed by Jonathan's idea.  "Who will be doing this research and how much will it cost? Honestly, Jonathan, the last time you volunteered to do something for me, it ended up costing several artifacts from the exhibit and…"

"Will you please just give me a chance?" Jonathan's frustrated statement silenced Evy's tirade and they stared at one another in a shocked silence.  He ran a hand through his hair and started pacing in front of her.  "Look, I know I haven't been the model older brother but at least give me a chance.  Let me do this for you, old mum, and I promise," he turned back to Evy and gently grabbed her shoulders, "I promise I won't let you down.  Please believe me.  I want to help."

"Why this sudden change?" Evy asked softly.  "Why are you interested in helping me now?  I thought this family didn't matter to you, judging by your recent behavior."

Jonathan cringed at the subtle reminder but felt lucky Evy didn't expand on it more.  "Because I've just realized…you, Rick and Alex are all that I have in this world.  And I don't fancy envisioning a future without all of you so, that's all I'll say on this matter."

Evy stared at Jonathan, and it seemed her eyes were assessing everything about him.  Amazingly, he found that he was holding his breath waiting for her reply.

"All right then," she finally said.  "But we shall both discuss what I want researched, and no lying to me.  We both know you've had a habit of that in the past."

Jonathan followed Evy down the hallway, protesting loudly.  "I lied about one thing, that stupid puzzle box I found on a dig in Thebes.  Will you ever forget that? And…and besides, it helped you meet Rick."

Evy was already to the top of the stairs and Jonathan had to run after her.  "You owe me that much, young lady.  Admit it."

~*~

A/N:  Hey, lookie…no translations. Or at least I don't think there are any.  LOL  Before we get into the shout outs, I hope my first attempts at writing Jonathan met with your approval.  I'm always a tad nervous when I try and write another character from TM/TMR but lucky me, I can 'hear' Jonathan talking when I write his dialogue.  My only problem was I kept trying to write him calling Evy "old mum" a lot.  LOL

Dawn – I do put Nabil through a lot, don't I?  LOL  And yes, the love that Olivia and Nabil have for each other will continue to grow and strengthen; both will need it in the times to come.  And I wrote some more Ardeth…hope it met with your approval.  ;-)

Deana – You're really kickin' out your namoos story and I highly recommend it for those of you who have yet to read it. Only Deana could come up with the idea of the Medjai being sick with malaria.  LOL  ;-)

 

Ladybug – So glad you enjoyed the last chapter and sorry I made you cry for poor Faris.  Don't worry, there are new characters coming that will help Olivia care for Nabil but Faris won't be forgotten.  Thanks for reading.

Ellbee – Me build up to something?  Why, whatever do you mean?  LOL The war will be coming next and you know what I love to do to my warriors in a battle scene, don't you?  Heh heh

 

Ruse – Thanks for reading and I tried to update as soon as I could but this chapter had to sit for a wee bit as I mulled around idea's.

Marxbros – Allan is a skankbag?!?  LMAO!  Well, you've certainly expressed your opinion of him and I can say you've hit the nail on the head.  I'm tickled pink you like the Nabil/Olivia romance and yes, it was love at first sight.  But sometimes, that can be frightening, you know? There are a few obstacles this couple must overcome and here's a thought – how will Olivia react when she learns of Nabil's true identity?  And yes, Dr. Groves is a good man and he's turning out to be a sweetheart.  Thanks for the review, I love them.

Trudy Perry – One of these days I'm going to email you a thank you for reading this…LOL Until then, enjoy this next update but be worried, Allan isn't going down without a fight.  ;-)

Marcher – Glad you had a chance to read the last chapter, I appreciate the feedback.  And as I had mentioned to Ell, me building up to something? Laws yes, my dear…war.  Hell hath no fury like the Medjai wanting revenge and hopefully, the next chapter will keep you on the edge of your seat.

Thank you one and all, your reviews, comments, and emails are sometimes the fuel that keeps me going.  Later!