Author's Note: Here's a little something for the weekend! 3 Cheers for the Bank Holiday.

I am, I know, taking great liberties with the legend of the battles between Horus and Seth. The involvement of the Sphinx is entirely of my own invention. I apologise if I am offending the sensibilities of any scholars of Egyptian mythology, but if that sort of tampering is good enough for Mr Sommers and the folks at Universal, then it's good enough for me.

I would also like to say that the more accurate portions of the myth are based on the version that has Horus as the son of Osiris and Isis

Well, now that the notes are out of the way, yet more thanks to all my lovely readers and reviewers. I hope that you enjoy...

Chapter Ten: Ardeth's Tale

'In the three hundred and sixty-third year of his earthly reign, the god-king Ra-Harakhte led his armies into battle against Seth, the brother and murderer of Osiris - King of the Dead. Among Ra's warriors was Horus, the son of Osiris and Isis, keen to avenge his father's murder.

Horus enlisted the aid of Thoth, the moon-god of wisdom and the goddesses Nekhbet and Uazet. Together the deities transformed Horus into a burning sun disk with immense wings. Horus flew directly into the sun to look down upon his enemies and so fierce was the stare of the Eye of Horus, that the followers of Seth became confused and slew each other.

But Seth was as cunning as Horus - and more treacherous. He took his remaining followers and, turning themselves into crocodiles and hippopotami, they hid themselves in the Nile. There they lay in wait, biding their time until the boat of Ra would pass them.

Horus anticipated his uncle's evil plans and created powerful lances of iron, blessed by the words of Thoth. Horus pursued Seth and for many years the two of them battled across the lands of Egypt and Nubia. Thousands of soldiers were slaughtered on both sides until, finally, Seth and Horus faced each other on the corpse-strewn battlefield. Seth was a mighty opponent, but the anger of Horus still burned like the sun. He killed his uncle, cutting his body into pieces, as Seth had done to Osiris.

Horus brought the remains to his mother, Isis. But the goddess knew that death was not a barrier to a god. With the aid of Ra, she invoked terrible magics, captured the spirit of Seth and transformed him into a serpent. She cast him into a deep pit and Ra set a guardian over it - a ferocious demon with the body of a lion and the head of a man. The guardian was turned to stone and its demonic powers sealed into a sacred vessel.

The amulet was presented to Horus as a symbol of his kingship over the united kingdoms of Egypt. From Horus, it was passed down to each pharaoh through all the generations and ages of Egypt until it passed out of memory and was lost.

Whoever possesses the vessel has the power to awake the demon, free the serpent and battle the mighty Seth. If he is victorious, he can proclaim himself the successor to Horus and enter the pantheon of deities as a god. If he fails, Seth will enslave mankind and-'

'Destroy the world?'

'You know the story after all?'

Rick snorted. 'No, but they all end the same way. So I'm guessing that the vessel has been found, huh?'

Ardeth nodded. 'And when the sun rises on the morning of the equinox, he will awaken the Sphinx.'

'And the equinox is..?'

'The day after tomorrow,' Jonathan stated. Rick looked at him in surprise. 'You'd be amazed at the information I have stored in here,' he said, tapping the side of his head.

'So where does Evy fit into all of this?'

'He probably wants her to be his-' Jonathan paused, searching for a word that would not result in Rick eviscerating him. 'Consort. Very fond of a consort, the old Egyptian gods.'

'I'm very much afraid that you may be right,' Ardeth said, nodding. 'But that will ensure that Evelyn is safe for the time being.'

'And after that?'

Ardeth met Rick's eyes. 'Her position will be extremely dangerous.'

'I hate Egypt.' Rick's voice was a low growl. 'I hate ancient Egyptians and their gods, I hate curses, I hate egomaniacs who want to turn themselves into gods and I really, really hate mystic Arab guys coming in here and telling me we've got two days to save the world.'

His companions watched as he paced the room and wisely kept silent.

'And what's this thing with taking over the whole world anyway? Why not half of it? Or a quarter. If some guy wants to take over a quarter of the world, that's fine by me. I'll go live in another quarter. And saving the world is your job.' Ardeth returned his gaze impassively. 'Nothing to do with me. Not this time, nuh-uh, no way. I'm taking Evy and getting the hell outta here. Then you guys can do whatever it is you're supposed to do.' He came to a halt in the middle of the room, his large frame losing something of its nervous energy. 'Day after tomorrow, huh?'

'Yes.'

'But we're getting Evy back tonight.'

The Medjai smiled. 'Tonight, yes.'

'Think of it this way, old man, if we put an end to Barton's little scheme tonight, the whole Sphinx-curse job becomes rather a moot point.'

Rick brightened at this, but the shadows descended again a moment later. 'Knowing our luck, we'll probably just wake up a different demon. The whole damn country will probably be in flames by daybreak.'

'You have a worrying streak of pessimism, O'Connell, has anyone ever told you that?'

'I'm so glad to see that you're in a more accommodating frame of mind.'

'You haven't left me many alternatives.'

Evelyn sat, very erect and very still, barely looking at the man before her. If she looked him in the eye, she was certain that she would break. Despite all the horrors she had witnessed; and the terrible ordeal Imhotep had subjected her to, Evelyn had never actually hated the priest. Feared him, been awed by his power, yes - but never hated him.

She had never thought that she would be capable of hating anyone.

Now she was consumed by it. Pure, cold hatred that sat like a ball of iron in her chest, crushing her. She remembered the look on Rick's face when Imhotep had taken her and, for the first time, understood it. For the first time in her life, Evelyn wanted to kill someone. She forced herself to raise her eyes to his, digging her nails into the palms of her hands to stop herself from lashing out at him.

David Barton looked at her proud figure admiringly. She had drawn her hair back severely from her face, but a few dark ringlets still fell loose. The intervening years since their graduation had given greater strength to her features. Even with the bruising across her cheekbone, she was exquisite.

'There's no point in fighting me ... Evy-'

Her eyes flashed. 'Don't call me that.'

'Is that what he called you? I can't for the life of me work out what a girl like you would want with some ignorant American brute. A Legionnaire, for God's sake. I even heard he'd been in prison.'

Evelyn was almost biting her tongue with the effort not to speak, not to react, but it was too much. She could endure anything, but not this. 'Rick. His name is Rick. And don't you dare talk to me about him.'

His face haunted her. His face, his beautiful blue eyes that stared at her with so much loving intensity, and his voice...

'Half of me is afraid that one morning you'll wake up and realise you're too good for me. And I wouldn't blame you. I already know you're too good for me.'

How could he ever have thought that? Maybe his manners did occasionally - all right, frequently - leave something to be desired, but he had a nobility and a generosity of spirit that was unequalled. He was amazing and he brought out the best in her. If she had never made him see that, it was unbearable to think that she would never again have the opportunity. Evelyn dismissed that thought immediately, still stubbornly clinging to her denial of what Barton had presented to her as a fact.

Her captor shrugged coolly. Her eyes, he had noticed, bore no signs of weeping. She was very pale, but apart from that she did not appear to be mourning the loss of her brother and the American. Perhaps she did not particularly care.

To David Barton, it made no difference either way. He had Evelyn and in less than two day's time, he would have power beyond the comprehension of mortal men. The one thing that truly annoyed him was the diamond on her hand. She was sitting so still at the moment that it burned with a steady fire - a green flame of reproach.

'Pretty trinket, that. Although, it's somewhat obsolete now, don't you think?'

He moved to take her hand and she pulled away, face hardening.

'I've already told you not to touch me, David. I really don't want to have to tell you again.'

He laughed then - highly amused by the threats from this slender girl. 'You don't learn, do you, Evelyn? I've told you that there is nothing you can do to me. No one is going to come for you, do you understand that? No one. It's just me. You should start getting used to that idea, because that is how it's going to be. Just you and me and-' He broke off, frowning as though he had said something he shouldn't. Or had been about to.

Evelyn took a few moments to gather her thoughts. There was nothing to be gained by antagonising Barton. She was aware that there was more to this than a lunatic's obsession with her; and she needed to know what was going on if she were to have any chance of stopping him. Even though the anger inside her was so fierce her throat was constricting with it, she forced herself to speak calmly - to smile even, as best she was able.

'You seem to have gone to a lot of trouble, David. Doing all of this, I mean.'

'Yes. Yes, I have.' He nodded. 'You have no idea.'

'No, of course I don't. Why-why don't you explain it to me?'

He turned bright, feverish eyes on her. If there were any warnings that she was merely trying to extract information, they were overridden by his ego.

'I'm glad you've asked me. I-I've wanted to share this with you, Evelyn. I had hoped-'

'Why don't you just tell me?'

He sat close to her. She flinched slightly, but held his eyes and hoped that he hadn't noticed.

'It's great power, Evelyn. Power from the time of the gods...'

The cloud, which had hung over the city throughout the day, had largely dispersed by sunset. The remnants had been transformed into fiery gold streaks and the last of the sun's rays had infused the sky above the horizon with a blood red stain.

Rick had found refuge in the courtyard and it was here that Ardeth found him.

'Do you still hate Egypt?'

The American started slightly, but didn't turn around. 'Evy's half Egyptian, you know. She loves it here. It's in her blood.'

'And you?'

Rick blew out a breath and turned his face up to the evening sky. 'I pretty much grew up here - give or take a couple of years. When I was in America, all I wanted to do was get back here.' He glanced at the Medjai. 'Don't think this means I'm getting all mushy on ya.'

Ardeth suppressed a smile.

'Are you guys all set?'

'Everyone is ready. We will attack from the river.'

'I remember - very effective method.'

'And yet you were able to escape.'

'It was the wet footprints. Dead give away.'

'Ah.'

The two men exchanged appraising glances and then smiled. Warriors and wanderers, they recognised each other for what they were. It was strange, Ardeth thought, that for all his own pride in his race, his caste and his heritage, he felt greater kinship with this stranger from the west than he did with many of his own people.

'I, er, just wanted to say ... thanks. Y'know, for doing this. You don't have to. I, er, do appreciate it.'

Ardeth inclined his head. 'Fate, it seems, in quite insistent on uniting us.'

'Fate?' Rick's tone was loaded with scepticism.

'You should have not survived your first visit to the City of the Dead. You alone of your companions survived the Tuareg attack.'

The American's eyes narrowed. 'So, that was you on top of that mountain.'

'One of my commanders wished to kill you, but I said not. I believed that the desert would provide that service for us.'

'Gee, that was big of you.'

'For some reason, our destinies are intertwined. Fate meant us to fight side-by-side, as it meant for you and Evelyn to find each other.' Ardeth paused and then added softly, 'Your love is like the desert wind.'

Rick considered this statement. 'Huh?'

'A mountain is immovable, yes?'

'I guess.' Rick was starting to become accustomed to Ardeth's narrative style. This anecdote could take some time.

'The wind in the desert is eternal. It picks up tiny grains of sand and over time, the mountain is slowly eaten away by the wind and the sand. Eventually, the mountain will fall, but the wind will still blow.'

'Uh-huh.'

There was silence for a while.

'Y'know, in your little story, I think Evelyn's the wind. Anything that's even remotely chaotic, that would be her. Me, I'm just the sand - and it's not always pretty being blown around in there. And I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation.' Rick shook his head in disgust.

'My friend, you have the soul of a poet.

'Shut up.'

Rick started determinedly back towards the foyer. For someone who had spent most of his life burying his feelings, there had been far too much discussion of emotions lately for his taste.

Ardeth shook his head slightly, trying to hide his amusement at Rick's discomfiture and followed him inside. He attracted some curious stares from the other hotel patrons as he swept through the foyer and up the great staircase, but he didn't notice. Partly because the opinions of strangers meant nothing to him and partly because he was lost in his own thoughts.

In another lifetime, O'Connell could quite easily have been a Medjai. It hadn't really come as a surprise to hear of Evelyn's heritage - if anything, it strengthened Ardeth's belief in their destinies. The American soldier and the Anglo-Egyptian librarian. Something stirred in his memory: a vague recollection of one of the lost legends of Egypt that were still passed down among his people. Something to do with a Princess and her personal bodyguard. When the present crisis was over, he vowed, he would recover that near-forgotten tale.