The entire O'Connell household was quiet in the early morning. The sun had not risen yet, and the sky was still covered in a blue velvet blanket sprinkled with diamonds. A sickle-shaped moon hung low on the horizon, preparing to descend beyond the rim of the world to give the sun its time in the heavens.
There was peace here, a tranquility that was so different from what it was like in China or in the jungles. In Mexico, there was always the sound of frogs and nocturnal insects, and the moment dawn broke across the sky, the songs of birds and the roars of the big cats that prowled beneath the thick emerald eaves greeted it. In China, it was almost the same, but there were no big cats, for their roars were replaced by the steady chanting of monks in prayer.
Andrew sighed as he closed his eyes, suddenly missing the cool mountain air of the Buddhist temple at the top of Mount Song, in Anyang province, in China. While he could not be a monk - he knew that the life of an ascetic would be the death of him - he did stay there long enough to learn the fighting style that, up till then, the monks had taught to no outsiders [1].
His senses, made sharper by the stillness that blanketed the world around him at that moment, picked up movement from behind him. He focused on it intently, and recognized the cadence and beat of the footsteps that were steadily approaching him.
He did not need to look over his shoulder to know who had just arrived. "Up early, Cathy?"
Although she did not respond, he knew that his guess was correct, because a moment later she was sitting beside him on the porch. She breathed a sigh, and then spoke: "I suppose. I find it a little too quiet here. I miss the sound of the jungle."
He slid a glance at her through the corner of his eye, his lips quirking upwards slightly. "You do not mean to tell me, lass, that you miss all that ruckus?"
She returned his gaze with one of her own. "I found the frogs very comforting, mind you. They were a constant reminder that I was not in England."
Andrew nodded, knowing that England was rather sensitive topics when it came to Catherine. He had only met Baron Ashlar once, and it had not been a very pleasant meeting.
He grimaced, pushing that memory to the back of his mind. He could understand - at least partly - why Catherine wanted to get away from him. Baron William Ashlar did not seem like a very caring person.
Erica Ashlar, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. While he had never met the girl who was Catherine's younger sister, he had seen a picture of her, since Catherine kept a small portrait of her sister in an oval gold locket. While Catherine rarely ever wore the locket, she always had it on her person, tucked away in one of the pouches on her belt or some other compartment on her clothing. It was obvious that Catherine loved and adored her little sister, though she might have had different feelings for her father.
He turned his head to watch as Catherine stood up, stretching her arms over her head as she did so. She was dressed in a pair of loose cotton pantaloons and a loose silk over shirt; Catherine was not one to dress in nightgowns, unless absolutely necessary. And besides, a dress would only be a hindrance to the training that she received from Andrew every morning from the moment she had asked to be taught.
Andrew got to his feet as well, stretching as he did so, and looked for a suitable area for them to practice. There was a clear space to the side, beneath the spreading branches of an acacia tree. That would be suitable for their purposes.
He nodded at Catherine, and the two of them headed towards the space. He shook his hands, loosening the joints of his fingers. "Are you ready, Cathy?"
"As ready as I ever will be, I suppose." The young woman paused, looking around, and a puzzled expression came over her face. "Where are the swords? I thought I had unpacked them last night."
Andrew smiled at her as he turned around to face her. "Today we will train without swords or weapons. I think it's high time that I taught you how to fight without them."
She stared at him, stunned beyond belief, though in a few moments, a smile lit up her face, and her eyes gleamed with eagerness. "A weapon is but an extension of the body," she recited, "for the body is the ultimate weapon."
"Very good lass," Andrew said with an approving nod and smile. "I will make a warrior out of you yet." He quickly turned serious, planting his feet firmly apart, and allowing his arms to settle, relaxed, at his sides. "Now then, I think it would be best to teach your first what not to do than what to do in unarmed combat..."
Rick got up earlier than usual, having been unable to sleep very well the previous night. With a rather troubled mind, he kissed his sleeping wife on the cheek, before her got up from bed, changed into some decent clothes, and wandered down the hallway, down the stairs, past the dining room and into the kitchen. He doubted if Francine would be awake, but he knew his own way around the kitchen - as long as he avoided using the stove and the oven. He picked up an apple from the plate of fruit nearby, and poured himself a glass of water before he headed out to the porch, biting into the apple along the way.
All the while, his thoughts were troubled by the mask that Catherine and Andrew had brought with them, and that Evie had stored away in the small vault that was hidden behind one of the paintings in their bedroom. He didn't really like the idea of having that mask in his house, much less in the bedroom he shared with his wife, but it was the only way to keep it completely safe.
He had liked Catherine and Andrew well enough. He had to give them that much credit, at least. They were his kind of folk: people who knew how to rough it up and never complain about it. Sure, Catherine was a baroness, and who knew, maybe Andrew was one of those Highland Lords traveling around incognito to escape duty or an arranged marriage - or both. But they were like him, too: adventurers who enjoyed the thrill of the chase, and the rush of new discoveries.
What he didn't like was the fact that they had brought a cursed artifact into his house. And, as he knew, his family had a very bad track record when it came to cursed objects.
First, the Book of the Dead, then the Scorpion King's bracelet, and now the Mask of the Jade Priest, he thought morosely. Yes indeed, his family had a wonderful record. He hoped for once - just once - that they would find the Golden Sun Disc of the Inca, for a change, or hell, maybe even the Holy Grail. He wouldn't mind stumbling across those - they weren't cursed.
He sighed, and shook his head. At the very least whatever could happen, would not happen in Egypt. The mask was found in Mexico, and they were far, far away from Mexico at the moment.
After all, the Atlantic was a greater distance to cross than the Mediterranean and the English Channel. Anything - mummified or otherwise - that wanted to come after them would have just drowned in the middle of the Atlantic.
He walked out onto the porch, and inhaled the still-cool air. He could deal with that problem when it came up. As long as the mask stayed in the vault, there was nothing to worry about.
"YAAAH!"
Rick looked up upon hearing that cry, just in time to see Catherine charging right at Andrew. A split-second later, Catherine went up in the air, and landed on her back with a rather painful-sounding thud.
Snapped out of his stupor by the sound, Rick covered the distance between him and the acacia tree where the two had obviously been fighting. "What the hell was that?" he demanded as he glared at Andrew. He knew he was rough around the edges and all, but even he knew better than to hurl a woman around like a rag doll, no matter how angry she might have been!
To his surprise, Catherine laughed, and got up, looking none the worse for wear as she patted off the dust that had clung to her clothes after her tumble. "Mr. O'Connell, please, I am quite fine. There is nothing to worry about."
Rick rolled his eyes as he helped Catherine get the dust off her clothes, patting off a particularly large patch of the substance that had clung to the back of her white shirt. "You mean the fact that Andrew just threw you over his shoulder is nothing I should be worried about? And like I said last night, call me Rick."
Catherine nodded in response, briefly thanking him for helping her get the dirt off her clothes, and then answered: "Yes, that was nothing to be worried about. Andrew was just teaching me some of the techniques in unarmed combat that he learned in China."
"Really?" Rick glanced at Andrew, who smiled, and bowed his head in a rather modest manner. "What exactly was she talking about?"
"What Cathy was referring to was the training I had in the Buddhist temple at the top of Mount Song, in China's Anyang province. I stayed there for a while, learning all that I could, before I left and went to Shanghai, where I met Cathy." The Scotsman smiled at the young woman. "She asked me to teach her how to fight in the style that the monks taught me, and I did. I've taught her enough of armed combat, so now I am teaching her how to fight without weapons."
Rick nodded, absorbing the information and putting it in the back of his mind. If that were the case, then Catherine was not as helpless as he had assumed. Like Evie, she could fight well enough to take care of herself - though he really didn't understand why she would want to learn unarmed combat.
"Say, uh... Could you tell me just what exactly that style of fighting is?" Rick asked. He grinned at the two, and nodded towards the house. "We could all have some breakfast while you told me about it."
Catherine glanced at Andrew, who raised his eyebrow slightly in reply. She laughed, and said, "I suppose that would be alright. I am rather hungry, truth be told."
Andrew rolled his eyes, though he fell in step with Catherine and Rick. "All those times that we were training in the jungle and in China, you would never complain about being hungry until after an hour or more of training. But we arrive here and suddenly your discipline and self-control are in tatters." He shook his head in a mock-condescending manner. "I am beginning to think we should have stayed in Mexico."
Catherine stuck her tongue out at the Scotsman in response. "Oh, do be quiet Andrew." Her next words were directed at Rick: "That man thinks that just because he has spent a lot of time with the monks in their temple, he can call me undisciplined and lacking in self-control."
Rick laughed as he listened to his two companions argue back in forth. Yep, he thought, he was right the first time: he liked them, but he didn't like whatever it was they brought into his house. He made a mental note never to ask presents from them anymore, whatever the occasion it might be, without doing thorough research on all the possible legends and stories that had been told in the country they had last been in.
"And that was the last time I ever let Cathy use a whip chain [2] in her training," Andrew said, concluding a rather hilarious story that concerned Catherine, a length of iron chain, and several unwary workers who had been standing too close for comfort while he had been teaching her how to manipulate the chain as a weapon.
Catherine laughed with the men, even though she was still marginally embarrassed about how the whole situation went. Still, she had realized that her strength lay in the use of other weapons, and she had, instead, focused on the use of the Chinese straight sword, or jian, which she could wield singly or two at a time.
Rick winced teasingly. "Remind me never to test her temper, then," he said to Andrew, sparing a moment to glance at Catherine and wink at her, telling her that it was all just a joke.
"Ah, but now I can become as dangerous as that even without weapons," Catherine replied, grinning at Andrew. "After all, weapons are but an extension of the body..."
"For the body is the ultimate weapon," Andrew finished, smiling at her.
Rick blinked at them both. "Wait a minute: what did you mean? How can the body be the 'ultimate weapon'?"
Catherine leaned forward slightly, smiling at Rick as she explained: "You see, in the fighting style that Andrew was taught, and that he's now teaching to me, weapons are just an extension of the body - a tool, you might say. A sword is a weapon, but unless someone actually wields it, it is nothing. In line with that thought, the body can be trained to be a weapon all on its own, effective both against armed and unarmed opponents."
"Well that's always a good thing to know," Rick commented, pausing to sip from the cup of coffee that the housemaid Francine had provided for him. He put the cup down, and then looked at Catherine with a curious expression on his face. "How could you stand getting thrown over his shoulder like that and stand up without even wincing once?"
"Because Andrew taught me how to take a fall," Catherine replied. "There are ways of landing, Rick, so that you don't hurt yourself. You have to favor particular parts of your body over others. Like, say, you would favor your neck more than you would favor your arm, because breaking your arm is better than breaking your neck. Landing is the same thing: there are ways of falling that protect the more vulnerable parts of the body, while allowing less vulnerable ones to take the force of the fall."
"And you learned this - all of this - from monks at the top of a mountain?"
"China is a harsh country, Rick," Andrew said, his voice serious and solemn. "Mysterious, yes, and beautiful, without a doubt. But it is also dangerous. The people have known things and truths that we in the West are only beginning to discover and learn for ourselves."
"And so it has been with Egypt."
Catherine looked up, and smiled as Evie entered, outfitted comfortably and casually. She smiled as her best friend approached. "Good morning, Evie."
"Same to you Cathy, Andrew," Evie replied, crossing over to kiss her husband on the cheek, a kiss which Rick returned with one of his own.
Catherine watched the two interact, feeling a small, dull pang of jealousy in her stomach. She believed that Evie was extremely fortunate to have a husband like Richard O'Connell. He was passionate, strong, brave, and completely dedicated to her. Oh, Rick might have been a little headstrong at times - that, Catherine knew, came with the passion he had - but all people were flawed. She understood that no man could be the perfect one for her; he could only be the right one for her, but that would be more than enough.
Briefly, the memory of dark, smoldering eyes and a voice like warm, spiced wine flashed through her, but before she could grasp it completely, it was gone.
"Cathy?"
She jerked her head up, and noticed that Evie was looking at her. "Yes?"
Evie's eyes narrowed slightly, and she reached out, pressing a hand to Catherine's forehead. "Are you alright? You look flushed?"
"I am?" Catherine pressed the backs of her palms to her cheeks, and noted that, indeed, the skin was rather warm. She laughed, and shook her head. "I'm quite fine, Evie, nothing to worry about. I suppose that I will need some time to get used to this heat."
Though she still looked a little unsure, Evie drew back, and nodded slightly. "Well, I do hope that you can adjust by next week."
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Next week? Why is that?"
"Because I want the two of you to come with us when we go to Dendera," Evie replied, and her eyes glowed with excitement. "Oh Cathy, I'm sure you will have so much fun! While you're here in Egypt you and Andrew might as well come with us when we go inspect the dig at Dendera. After all, I believe we could use all the help we can get."
Rick mock-scowled at his wife. "Evie, do you think that's the right thing to do? No offense to you, Cathy, Andrew, but they have the same track record with artifacts as you do."
"Whatever do you mean by that, Richard O'Connell?"
"Let's look at recent history here, alright? It was you who found the Book of the Dead, and it was also you who found the bracelet of the Scorpion King. While there's the saying that 'third time's the charm,' it's only the first time that they've found a cursed artifact. Who's to say that on this trip around, they won't find something cursed again?"
"They won't," Evie said emphatically, and to emphasize her point she slapped her husband on the arm. "There is nothing cursed at Dendera! If there were anything there at all, then I'm sure Ardeth would have told us to stay clear of that place to begin with. And since Ardeth hasn't told us anything, then I will assume that it is safe to go digging in Dendera."
"By the way," Catherine cut in then, and she knew her voice was unusually quiet, unusually shy, but she didn't care. "I was just curious... Just what is Ardeth?"
Everyone at the table was silent. For a moment, no one spoke, and no one moved, until Rick leaned back, a smile on his face that seemed to say he knew something she didn't. "Why do you want to know about Ardeth?"
"Well...he was...is..." Catherine could not help but stammer through her words. Why in God's name had she wanted to know about Ardeth in the first place? "He just seemed like...a rather interesting character, that's all." She capped the statement with a weak smile.
Andrew cocked his eyebrow at her questioningly, but he did not say anything. As for Rick, that knowing smile had not disappeared from his face, even as he leaned back to answer her question. "Ardeth's a Medjai - you know, deadly desert warrior who could chop your head off if you disagreed with him and his folk?"
Evie glared at her husband. "Ardeth's not like that, Rick. He's a little...rough, I suppose, but he's a really nice person."
Rick laughed. "I know, I know. But you got to admit; he can be pretty scary too at times. Anyway, yeah, Ardeth's nice in his own way. He's just..." He shrugged. "Well, he takes some getting used-to. He's not one to talk a lot."
"Yes, I suppose that part was very easy to figure out," Catherine said with a soft laugh. "Still, he is quite a mystery. I dare say it would take a lifetime to understand him."
"I say; where has everyone gone to?"
Evie sighed when Jonathan's voice echoed down to them from the bedrooms on the second floor. "Well then, I suppose that we ought to make our appearance now - just to make sure that Jon does not do anything rash."
"She likes him."
Evie looked at her husband's reflection through her mirror. She narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "What do you mean, 'she likes him'?"
Rick rolled his eyes - a perfect imitation of her habit. "Cathy likes Ardeth, Evie. Don't tell me you didn't see it this morning."
Evie turned around in her seat so she could look at her husband, who was sitting on top of a wooden chest that stood at the foot of their bed. She found it rather difficult to believe the words that had come out of her husband's mouth. "No, I don't think I did. Would you kindly explain to me how you happened upon that conclusion?"
"The way she stuttered when she was asking about what Ardeth was, and the way her voice went all soft when talking about him..." Rick looked at his wife, and groaned in exasperation as he threw his hands up in the air. "Oh come on Evie! I thought that you women were better at seeing these things!"
Evie bristled at that. Was he trying to imply that she did not know her own best friend? The nerve of him! "I will have you know, Richard O'Connell, that the reason why I refuse to comprehend what you have just told me is because I cannot imagine Cathy being attracted to Ardeth, or vice-versa!"
"I wasn't saying that Ardeth was attracted to Cathy, I was just saying that Cathy was attracted to Ardeth."
"Well I cannot imagine that. And knowing Cathy, she would not even consider it."
"Give me one good reason why she shouldn't," Rick challenged.
"First of all-" Evie halted then, her mind going blank in an instant. Why indeed would Catherine not be attracted to Ardeth? After all, she was certain Catherine wasn't blind - though she could not, for the life of her, understand why Catherine and Andrew were not attracted to each other at all. And Ardeth was not in the least bit ugly - not with his rather exotic, dashing, "Prince of the Desert" looks.
Rick smirked. "See? There's no reason why Cathy wouldn't be attracted to Ardeth."
Evie considered it, and she gasped. Good God, why hadn't she noticed it before? She looked up at her husband with amazement. "Good heavens Rick... You might actually be right on this one!"
"Took you a while to figure it out, hmm?" He walked over to her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I mean, hey... Maybe it's just me being happily married and all, but I'd love to see my old buddy settled down, you know what I mean?"
Evie giggled as she looked up at her husband. "And you would match make him with my best friend? Do you realize just how different those two are?"
"I know, but who cares?" Rick gave that careless shrug that Evie found both adorable and annoying. "They'll do each other good."
"Perhaps, but..." Evie sighed. "I don't know Rick. Cathy doesn't seem to be looking for romance at the moment. And besides, for all that she claims she does not want to go back to England, I know that she will want to, one day. Maybe, when she goes back, she will find someone else, and she will settle down and get married." She held her husband's hand in hers, patting it reassuringly. "I know you want to see Ardeth happy for a change. I see it too: how the loneliness eats up at him inside, though he doesn't show it to us. But I don't think it would be wise to force them on each other. Let's just give them time to find out how they feel for each other."
Rick shrugged. "Guess you're right." He grinned. "You think Dendera will give them time to get to know each other?"
Evie rolled her eyes. Her husband just did not know when to give up. "I hope so, Rick. For Cathy's sake, and for Ardeth's too, I do hope so."
[1]= One of the oldest Shaolin temples in China is, indeed, located at the top of Mount Song in Anyang, China. I am not quite certain on the policy regarding foreigners learning the arts of kung fu during the time period that The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, and hence, this story, takes place, so I hope that you, dear readers, will allow me some creative liberty on my speculation here.
[2]= The whip chain is but one of the many weapons that are employed in kung fu.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
Lilylynn – Thank you for thinking highly of my story, and for thinking me a talented writer. I hope that you continue to enjoy the story as much as you have these past few chapters.
Belphegor – Thank you for your very gracious comment. Yes, Andrew is quite amusing, is he not? I based him on Gerard Butler, that Scottish actor who starred opposite Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life, and in the movie adaptation of Michael Crichton's novel Timeline. If you wish to have an image of Andrew – or at least, how I see him – then all you need do is look at Gerard Butler when he played André Marek in Timeline.
As for the cursed object…alas, I am sad to disappoint you, but it is not the "main cursed object" of the story. That is to come later. But I have placed the mask in for a reason, which will be made clearer as the story progresses. No, the mask is not a veiled reference to the movie of the same name, but I must admit that The Portrait of Dorian Grey did inspire the consequences of its use. I am yet to read The Magic Skin, but since you have mentioned it, I may as well look for a copy of my own.