Author's Note: Right, in response to some queries about the previous chapter:
A minaret is part of a mosque – it is the tower, usually with a balcony, from where the muezzin call the Muslim worshippers to prayer.
Once again, I apologise for any inaccuracies in the description of Egyptian legends or of the physical reality of the actual sites. For the purposes of the story, I plead dramatic licence!
As always, thank you to my readers – you are the best! And after Belphegor's generous plug of this work, I am honoured to provide a similar service: her story is called Fairy Tales and Hokum, is available on this web site and is fantastic – so go read it!
Chapter Sixteen: Never a Dull Moment
The night had been clear and cloudless. The stars, as hard and bright as diamonds, shone steadily overhead; and against this magnificent vista, the silent bulk of the Sphinx stood in bold relief. And behind the Sphinx itself loomed that monument of the lost kingdom of Egypt - the mighty pyramid.
However, the sky had started to lighten and the stars had lost some of their brilliance. The ebony blackness of the monuments had faded to a chalky grey. Evelyn gazed up at the structures and shivered. She felt cramped and cold. By night, Cairo seemed to retain some of the heat of the day; out here on the barren plateau, the air was significantly cooler. Evelyn wrapped her arms around herself and thought longingly of the clean sheets and soft bed back at her room in the hotel. A small snore from behind caused her to look over her shoulder and she rolled her eyes at the sight that greeted her.
Jonathan had wedged himself against the rock wall, his mouth was hanging open and his head was nodding over the rifle he clutched. Evelyn unfolded herself, leaned across and poked him in the ribs. He snorted, spluttered and jerked up, cracking his head against a stone protuberance.
He rubbed the back of his head and glared at her. 'I say old mum, what the hell was that for?'
'We're supposed to be keeping watch, remember?' she replied in a piercing whisper.
'We're supposed to be keeping watch in silence,' another voice broke in, so quietly it could barely be heard. By night, under the open desert sky, Ardeth's stern face bore more resemblance to his ancient forebears than ever.
Evelyn and Jonathan exchanged guilty looks, both feeling as though they were back at school, being reprimanded by a kindly yet authoritarian headmaster.
Ardeth moved forward, making no sound and settled himself near Evelyn. 'How do you feel now, Seshat?' he asked, evidently pleased with his new nickname for her.
She smiled and tried to match her tone to his barely audible words. 'Strange. I keep going hot and cold – it's like ice and fire chasing each other through my veins.' She sighed, her eyes straying back to the Sphinx, trying to make out any sign of movement at the base. As a child she had, like countless others, been fascinated by the Sphinx: the romance and the mystery of the kingdoms that had risen and fallen, the millennia that had passed under its impassive gaze.
'It is the waiting,' Ardeth responded. 'This is always the worst time, but it will be over soon enough. One way or another.'
Jonathan had joined them at the edge of the ridge and raised an eyebrow as he caught Ardeth's last words. 'Are you sure you're not related to O'Connell? You both have something of the doom sayer about you, you know.' He squinted into the dense shadows at the base of the Sphinx. 'I wonder how he's getting on down there.'
Rick was all too familiar with the sensation of waiting. His body was tensed and ready, his senses alert, but he felt generally relaxed. Too much stress and tension led to exhaustion; too much relaxation to slackness – a balance between the two was the desired state for a functional soldier. At the moment, Rick was aware of the steady beat of his own heart, and every sound coming from the desolate surrounds.
His Medjai companions were, like himself, seasoned fighters. There had been little conversation – a few whispered words in Arabic and the silent sharing of a water canteen had cemented their comradeship. When you're fighting on the same side, it takes little to bind you together. For their part, the Medjai observed Rick with something approaching awe. He had defeated the Creature and returned the City of the Dead to its resting place beneath the sands. This admiration had also been extended to Jonathan – as another of the triumphant warriors – and to Evy: amongst the Medjai, she was spoken of as a learned and dangerous woman; a powerful sorceress with the ability to control the sacred books.
Despite their apprehension at what the dawn would bring, the Medjai felt that with such allies – and the blessings of Allah – they could not fail to be victorious.
Rick, blissfully unaware of their expectations of his abilities, was not allowing himself to consider the possible outcome.
He started slightly when a hand touched his shoulder. It was, however, merely one of the Medjai. He took the water canteen he was offered and took a few moderate sips, watching his young companion who went by the name of Mansour. It was the only thing Rick had learnt about him. It was difficult to judge the ages of these desert dwellers, but Rick guessed that he was little more than a boy – eighteen or nineteen at the most. For his people, he was a man and in the depths of his impassive eyes, Rick saw barely a flicker of fear. He replaced the cap on the canteen and handed it back to the young man before settling himself back against the hard stone of his post.
Evelyn had objected, vociferously, to being stationed on the ridge instead of down in the enclosure with Rick. He had explained with weary monotony that as they had no idea which direction Barton would approach from, they needed to cover all of the immediate area. There was no telling who would be in the greatest danger. He felt reasonably assured by the fact that Ardeth and Jonathan were with her, but hoped that any attack would be mounted against his own side of the Sphinx.
When they had first arrived at the site the party had conducted a thorough search, including the two temples that lay at the feet of the massive statue. There had been nothing to find and so they had separated and settled themselves in their posts. The night had past peacefully, but as the sky began to lighten, Rick felt his body tighten with apprehension. Dawn was rapidly approaching - if anything was going to happen, it would have to happen soon.
There was a movement further out on the plateau, moving toward the area of the Sphinx. Ardeth's eyes were accustomed to the desert at night, but even so he strained them in the effort to see what it was. The dark mass was moving quickly and as it came closer, it separated into smaller objects.
Jonathan, leaning close beside Ardeth, heard him mutter an invocation to Allah under his breath and turned his head suspiciously. 'What? What do you see?'
Ardeth made no answer, still staring across the sand.
Jonathan screwed up his eyes and then swore softly. He turned to his sister. 'You know that cheery tale you and Ardeth have been regaling us with?'
She watched him wordlessly, waiting.
'Remember what old Seth's chums turned themselves into?'
'Crocodiles.'
He nodded. 'I think they're making a return visit.'
Rick gripped the handle of his gun firmly, his hands nervy yet strong, and watched the approaching creatures. Their pale bulbous eyes gleamed weirdly in the dim light and the leathery skin of their heavy tails scraped rhythmically as they swarmed towards the monument. Their speed was unnatural. A crocodile may spend some time on dry land, but its preferred habitat is water where, despite its bulk, it moves with surprising agility.
The absence of water did nothing to hinder these vicious reptiles. It seemed only a few minutes from their initial sighting until now, when the men could hear the low growling from their throats and feel the sand stinging their faces as it was churned up under the relentless march of the crocodiles' feet.
The stench they brought with them was of fetid water, decay and death. And in the pale flicker of their eyes, the gaping jaws displaying rows of jagged teeth, and the slow deliberate movements of their heads, there was an insidious, pervading evil. It fell like a pall over the enclosure and for a moment, the living humans were all paralysed by it. Of all the possibilities they had considered and discussed, this had not been one of them. In those agonising moments, they became aware of how unprepared for this particular fight they were.
The snapping of teeth – far too close for comfort – roused Rick. In one motion, he retrieved a stick of dynamite, struck a match against the sandstone and threw into the advancing swarm. He watched the result grimly and remembered a favourite quote from one of his former comrades in the Legion: 'Outside of a dog, a stick of dynamite is a man's best friend.'
The blast cleared Ardeth's head. He unsheathed his scimitar, its blade glimmering dully, and grasped the hilt between both hands. 'Stay here,' he admonished them curtly.
He plunged down the ridge, his feet slipping on the uneven surface, but he retained his footing and plunged into the advancing army of reptiles, hacking at them with an unearthly yell.
Evelyn staggered to her feet - her eyes searching for the golden-haired figure on the plain below - ready to follow Ardeth down the steep incline. Until Jonathan grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her back to the ground.
'For God's sake, girl, will you bloody do as you're told for once in your bloody life?' He ignored the ominous flash of her eyes and let go of her wrist, he gripped her shoulder instead and shook her. 'Use your head. Now make yourself useful and hand me those cartridges.'
He propped himself up on his elbows, taking careful aim along the sights of his rifle and fired.
'Ha, that's one in the bag! Right between the eyes, my beauty!'
Ardeth placed one booted foot on the creature's head and pulled his sword out of its neck. He gazed distastefully at the thick dark blood dripping from the blade. Whether these beasts had made the journey from the river to this site, or had simply risen from beneath the sand, Ardeth neither knew nor cared. Crocodiles, he was well aware, had been held as sacred creatures by the Ancients. He had been taught that all beings living on earth and under the benevolence of Allah held a place in the cycle of life. Despite this careful tutelage, no one had ever been ever to explain to his satisfaction exactly what the beneficial purposes of a crocodile might be. In other words, he hated them.
These sentiments were shared by Rick O'Connell.
His last stick of dynamite remained unlit - another blast would kill the Medjai along with the crocodiles. He jammed the stick back into its holder and pulled out another gun. The sand was churned up by the ferocious struggle around him, the grains stinging his face and filling his eyes. He fired almost blindly at the lumbering mass approaching him. The bullet clipped the crocodile's leathery hide and it let out a low growl of anger.
It reared up, its teeth snapping.
Rick stumbled backwards. His feet slipped in the soft sand and he felt his ankle twist under him. He fell, his gun discharging uselessly into the air, and sprawled on his back in the dust. The crocodile landed over him, its heavy tail crushing his legs, pinning him to the ground. One of its claws was squarely on his left arm - he could feel the bones grinding together under the creature's weight and gritted his teeth against the pain. Rick placed the muzzle of his other gun against its head and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing.
Only a loud click. He was out of bullets.
The hideous mouth opened and he could feel the crocodile's foul breath against his face. Its eyes flickered and he could have sworn that the thing was laughing at him. The creature was evidently set on playing with its catch before it killed him.
'Not if I have my way, you ugly son-of-a-bitch,' he informed it. 'You're too ugly to live.'
He twisted suddenly, jerking his head away as the yellow teeth snapped together inches from his head. He retrieved his stick of dynamite and, with all the strength he could find, jammed it into the crocodile's eye. It roared in agony, but did not relinquish its hold on him. Its tail lashed the ground, creating a sandstorm around them. Rick's hand flailed uselessly on the ground, searching for anything else that could do duty as a weapon - a stone, a stick, anything...
The creature's shrieking roar suddenly ended and Rick felt something warm and sticky spray across his face. There was a moment's stillness; and then the crocodile collapsed on top of him. The massive body convulsed once and then lay motionless. Rick, crushed under the weight, gasped for breath.
The load was levered off him and Rick squirmed out from underneath, taking great breaths when he was finally free. Still lying on his back, he looked up at the figure standing over him.
Mansour gazed solemnly down at the American and then held out a hand. Rick grasped it and was grateful to find himself still standing when the young Medjai let go of him.
'Thanks. Looks like I owe you one.'
Mansour smiled slightly but shook his head. 'No, it is my honour to serve you. And my duty.'
Rick rolled his eyes. 'Let me guess – Ardeth set you that little task, huh?'
Before the younger man could reply, Rick retrieved a loaded gun and fired - apparently without bothering to take aim. Mansour barely flinched as the bullet narrowly missed him but then turned and coolly observed the dead crocodile that had fallen near his feet.
Rick looked around and saw the all too familiar signs of a desert battle. Sand and blood. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something else.
From her more elevated position on the ridge above, Evelyn had a clearer view of what was happening in the enclosure. The battle was raging on all sides of the Sphinx. Except for one area - a clear path that led directly to the temple that lay directly between the Sphinx's two massive paws. The crocodiles - vicious and predatory though they were - had driven the Medjai back to either side of this one narrow stretch of sand.
And she saw a man hurrying along that path, his white robes clearly illumined by the sun...
Evelyn felt her stomach lurch. The sun - yes, the first pale rays were streaking the steel-grey sky.
The yells and snarls from below, the sharp retort of Jonathan's rifle, suddenly seemed muffled. Everything slowed, as though she were watching a reel of film that was spinning at half speed. Rick must have seen David Barton entering the temple as well, she realised: she saw his tall frame scramble up one of the statue's reclining front legs and run along it before taking a flying leap off the end – it was the quickest way to the temple. She caught her breath as he landed, only exhaling when he stood.
And then time resumed its normal course.
Rick was too late to intercept Barton, but she saw him follow the Englishman into the temple.
The Medjai were still grappling with their reptilian assailants, but Rick was alone with their true foe. The real danger lay inside the temple. And the sun's rays were starting their inexorable journey across the landscape towards the sightless gaze of the sleeping, stone-encased demon.
Too late Jonathan realised that his sister had sprung up and had started on an erratic path down to the enclosure. He grabbed at her, but his hand closed on empty air.
'That damn bloody stupid…' The rest of the insult was lost in a roar of wordless anger and frustration.
Evelyn half-ran, half-slithered down the stony incline, her feet slipping on the uneven ground. Jonathan reloaded his rifle and raised it, tracking her progress and blasting anything inhuman that came anywhere near her. He sent up a silent prayer for steady hands, trusting to skill and the powers that be that he wouldn't hit her.
Evelyn ignored the carnage around her. On the fringes of her vision she was aware of a maelstrom of black robes, flashing blades and bared teeth. She heard the unearthly growls and heavy feet of the crocodiles but paid little attention. The gun that Rick had insisted she keep was in her pocket and its unfamiliar weight bounced against her thigh as she ran.
She tripped over something and staggered, almost falling, but somehow managed to keep her balance. For the first time she looked back and saw a pair of cold yellow eyes blink at her. Evelyn turned and kept running.
Ardeth, his robes stained with blood and other noxious substances saw her flight. He yelled instructions to his warriors and started across the rocky ground, wielding his blade and felling the remaining beasts in his path.
Her lungs were burning with the exertion, but she reached her goal. Evelyn's heart was thundering painfully in her chest, but her hand was steady as she pulled out the loaded gun – its butt fitting surprisingly well in her small hand. She moved towards the mouth of the temple, but was immediately driven back. She stared in horror.
From the floor to the ceiling, the entrance was blocked by a wall of flame. There was no way in, no way out.