THE PROPHECY OF ANU-RA
Part eight
As the days and nights passed on board the steamer, Rick found himself more and more distanced from his brother-in-law. While Jonathan was always more than courteous in Evelyn and Alex's presence as soon as they were gone, so too were any civilities that had been aimed in Rick's direction.
Waiting on deck for his wife to arrive, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Rick that Jonathan again preferred the company of his new friend, Professor Marsden. On more than one occasion, O'Connell had tried to apologize to Jonathan over his ill-considered words that had so offended his brother-in-law. Nevertheless, Jonathan would shrug off Rick's expressions of regret with an icy shoulder, seemingly more content to spend his time in conversation with Professor Marsden than making peace.
"This is really silly, Rick, I wish you would let me have a word with Jonathan," Evelyn sighed, pondering her brother's stubbornness as she joined her husband on the deck.
"No way, Evy," Rick said to his wife, rejecting her offer with a slight frown. "This is between me and Jonathan. There's no need for you to get in the middle of this."
"But that's exactly where I am-- in the middle. You know I love you both. If you'd just let me--"
Wrapping his arms around Evelyn, Rick shook his head, "No," he gently chided before kissing the tip of her nose. "We'll survive this. I hurt Jonathan's pride. He has every right to be mad at me, but once he's had some time to think about it, I'm sure he'll come around."
"I hope so," Evelyn said wistfully as she nuzzled into her husband's chest.
"By the way, where that wayward son of ours?" Rick tried to keep the concern out of his voice as he asked about his son Alex, but it was hard. After Ahm-Shere, the fear of losing his family was still deeply ingrained in the adventurer.
"Don't worry, he's fine," Evelyn placated her husband with a smile. "The captain is showing him the inner workings of the engine room. You know Alex, if it moves, he has to know why and how."
Still uncertain that his son's safety was assured, Rick up and down the steamer.
"Ardeth is with him."
Rick's eyebrows arched in surprise, "You asked a Med-jai chieftain, a leader of thousands, a warrior of God -- to play 'nanny' to our son?"
"Of course not," Evelyn shrugged. "He offered."
"He offered," Rick repeated as he shook head, a grin starting to spread on his face.
"Rick," Though secretly pleased to see a smile return to husband's face, Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted to see it aimed at a scimitar-carrying warrior. "Don't you dare tease Ardeth." She warned.
"Now, Evy, would I do that?" Rick asked as he feigned innocence.
"Yes, you would," Evelyn smiled back.
MRMRMRMRMR
Professor Marsden kept watch on the tall American adventurer from the corner of his eye as he continued to get closer to Jonathan Carnahan. The disagreement between the boorish Englishman and his family, though unexpected, was working to his advantage, as their conversations became more in-depth and less guarded.
"Mr. Carnahan."
"Jonathan, please." The younger Englishman smiled affably.
"Of course, then I insist you call me Percival, Jonathan. I mean that's what friends do."
"Indeed they do Percy," Jonathan saluted as he sipped on a warm whiskey.
Marsden barely managed to hide his distaste behind a smile as his fellow Englishman hacked away at his name, turning an honored title handed down through four generations of Marsdens, into a school yard titter. Putting aside his true feelings for his new traveling companion, Marsden realized he was running out of time. Even with Jonathan Carnahan on his side, the steamship would soon arrive in Egypt and if he was going to find out how the O'Connells got their information, he would need to now more.
With no words expected, Marsden motioned for his manservant, Sahir, to top up Jonathan's drink while he leaned in closer to his slowly relaxing companion.
"Jonathan?"
"Mm, yes, Percy," Jonathan answered as he licked the malt tasted from his lips.
Marsden cringed slightly, but continued, "I am not usually one to pry into other peoples business, but my curiosity has got the better of my manners and I must ask you about the gentleman that you and your family travel with."
"Oh, you mean, Ardeth?" Jonathan answered casually, seeing nothing wrong in the professor's interest. When he himself first had set eyes on the chieftain, he had been more than curious, he had been afraid of this fearsome man in black.
"Ardeth? If that is that his name--he is a remarkable looking fellow. The markings and the robes, they are very unusual," Marsden continued to probe.
"Not for a Med-jai warrior they're not," Jonathan explained.
"Mead-je?" Marsden frowned, deliberately misquoting the name.
"No," Jonathan shook his head and spoke more clearly. "'M-e-d-j-a-i. They are a very ancient group of people you know. Their sole purpose in life is to guard the ancient cities. Can you imagine that?"
"Oh, that Med-jai," Marsden feigned recall. "I remember reading about them in the ancient text. They guarded the Pharaohs in life, but surely in these enlighten times, and with the Pharaohs long since dead, these men are no longer needed?"
"Oh, no on the contrary, old boy," Jonathan continued, failing to notice the look of disdain Marsden aimed in his direction at his casual reference. "You have no idea when you are going to need a Med-jai warrior at your back," Jonathan said cryptically.
"I don't understand."
Jonathan physically shuddered as he recalled the many battles fought against Imhotep and the scorpion King. "And I hope you never do."
"Oh come now, Jonathan," Marsden politely snorted. "Please don't tell me that you believe in those absurd curse rumors?"
'Believe?" Jonathan replied as he down the last of his whiskey. "Percy, old man, if you had seen what I 'have' seen, you would not doubt even the tooth fairy."
Now Marsden knew he had been right all along. That it was the O'Connells that had fabricated the 'live mummy' theory to explain the chaos and destruction that surrounded British Museum that night. However, that still did not explain how the O'Connells had found Ahm Shere, or the treasures that were supposedly from the missing city of Hamunaptra.
"This Ardeth chap," Marsden said quickly changing the subject. "He is a friend?"
"Oh you could say that. You know he is actually more than 'just' a warrior, he's--," Jonathan lowered his voice as he looked around as if making sure the would not be overheard. "A Med-jai chief."
"A chieftain?" Marsden looked suitably impressed. A Med-jai chieftain away from his people was one thing, but in London, that was unheard off. He was more sure than ever that this 'Med-jai was the source of the O'Connells amazing luck, but he needed to be sure. Noting the near empty bottle, Marsden gestured to Sahir for another. "My finest bottle Sahir, understand?"
Sahir bowed, "Yes, sir, right away."
"Oh no," Jonathan said shaking his head. "I shouldn't. I mean it's a bit early in the day at all that--but I guess it would be impolite to refuse."
"Indeed it would, especially over a card game," Marsden replied as he pulled a deck from his pocket. "After all, I do believe I have some money to win back." * And some information to learn *
MRMRMRMRMR
"You found that interesting, young O'Connell?" The Med-Jai Chieftain queried the child at his side.
"Sure did, didn't you?" The youngster asked eagerly.
"I am sorry to say, I did not. Though I do find it interesting that your people have this need to go faster than a horse or camel and fly higher than the birds."
"Haven't you ever wanted to fly like a bird, Ardeth?" The youngest asked as they made their way down the berth corridors.
"I cannot say that I have." Ardeth said truthfully. "As I have painfully found out with the machines your people make, they tend to fall from the sky like stones from the clouds. No, I think I will leave flying up to the Gods' birds."
Alex suddenly stopped and turned to look at Ardeth, a look of concern on his face. "You came back because of the mark on dad's arm, didn't you?"
Ardeth hadn't been expecting the question and wasn't sure what to say to answer the boy. "That is something that maybe you should ask you father. It is not my place to speak to you of these things."
Alex wasn't about to take that for an answer. He was worried about his father. "Dad's in trouble, isn't he? That's why you're here--to look after him."
Ardeth stooped the young boy's level, placing a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder. "Your father is the strongest man I have ever known. I have seen him defeat a desert and stand off many enemies to protect those he cares for and for those he has known for only a fragment of time. He does not need me."
"But you need him, don't you?"
Ardeth smiled as he rubbed his hand into the blonde hair on Alex's head. "You are a very clever boy."
"I'm not a boy, I'm nearly nine," Alex frowned as he straightened his shoulders.
"You are nearly man," Ardeth said seriously as he stood to his full height. "I apologize." He bowed as he tipped his hand to his chest and his forehead and began to walk away, only to pause, and call over his shoulder. "But, you will 'still' have to ask your father."
"Rats!" Alex whined as he ran to catch up. * Adults were such spoilsports *
About to make their way up the stairs toward the deck, Ardeth and Alex stepped back as a group of passengers made their way down the stairs. A mixed grouping of English men and women happily as they descended the stairs, only to stop talking when they set eyes on the strange looking man in black. Noting the young white child at his side, one of the women covered her mouth with her hand and whispered into the ear of her traveling companion. The man frowned, seemingly in disagreement before shrugging his shoulders and nodding his reluctant acquiescence.
"Excuse me lad," The mustached gentleman inquired of Alex, keeping an eye on the marked man as he stepped closer. "Are you all right with this 'gentleman'?"
"Of course, why shouldn't I be?" Alex asked with child-like innocence.
"Your parents know that you are alone with this--er--man?" The stranger persisted.
"Yes," Alex said more forcefully, he wasn't too young to understand what the stranger was suggesting and he didn't like it at all. "If it's any of your business!"
The woman whose idea it had been for her husband to intervene shook her head with dismay at the young boy's rudeness.
"Alex!" Ardeth gently reprimanded. "Apologize for your rudeness."
"But Ardeth...."
"Apologize, please," Ardeth repeated.
"Sorry," Alex through clenched teeth, his head hanging down as he looked at his feet.
"Not much of an apology," the woman sniped to her friends.
"At least my young friend's rudeness was spoken with honor, yours was not," Ardeth said as he gave a half-hearted bow and gestured for Alex to continue up the stairs to the deck.
"I beg your pardon?" The mustached man said, taking offense at Ardeth's implication.
"Excuse me, Ladies, Gentlemen," Sahir said as he carefully pressed his way through, carrying the bottle he was ordered to fetch from the cabin pressed to chest.
"Damn foreigners!" One of the men said as he pushed Sahir toward the step.
Only Ardeth's quick action stopped Sahir from falling on to the stairwell. "Are you all right?" The Med-jai asked as he helped the Indian to regain his footing as the passengers moved away tittering amongst themselves.
"I have had worse. Thank you sir," Sahir said as he checked to make sure the whiskey bottle was intact and made his way up the stairs to the professor.
Alex was waiting upstairs as Ardeth appeared on deck, noting a small streak of blood on the Med-jai's hand. "You're hurt."
Ardeth hadn't felt a blow or any pain and giving the back of his hand a quick glance and seeing a small cut, he shook his head. "Do not worry yourself, it is nothing but a scratch, young O'Connell."
Alex quickly dismissed his concerns as he spotted his parents at the bow of the boat. About to run to see them, he stopped and looked back at Ardeth, "You know, those people were wrong. We're not in England anymore," he smiled. "So they're the foreigners."
Ardeth smiled at the truth of the young man's words, absently rubbing the scratch as he watched Alex turn away and run down the decking toward his parents.
TBC
Part eight
As the days and nights passed on board the steamer, Rick found himself more and more distanced from his brother-in-law. While Jonathan was always more than courteous in Evelyn and Alex's presence as soon as they were gone, so too were any civilities that had been aimed in Rick's direction.
Waiting on deck for his wife to arrive, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Rick that Jonathan again preferred the company of his new friend, Professor Marsden. On more than one occasion, O'Connell had tried to apologize to Jonathan over his ill-considered words that had so offended his brother-in-law. Nevertheless, Jonathan would shrug off Rick's expressions of regret with an icy shoulder, seemingly more content to spend his time in conversation with Professor Marsden than making peace.
"This is really silly, Rick, I wish you would let me have a word with Jonathan," Evelyn sighed, pondering her brother's stubbornness as she joined her husband on the deck.
"No way, Evy," Rick said to his wife, rejecting her offer with a slight frown. "This is between me and Jonathan. There's no need for you to get in the middle of this."
"But that's exactly where I am-- in the middle. You know I love you both. If you'd just let me--"
Wrapping his arms around Evelyn, Rick shook his head, "No," he gently chided before kissing the tip of her nose. "We'll survive this. I hurt Jonathan's pride. He has every right to be mad at me, but once he's had some time to think about it, I'm sure he'll come around."
"I hope so," Evelyn said wistfully as she nuzzled into her husband's chest.
"By the way, where that wayward son of ours?" Rick tried to keep the concern out of his voice as he asked about his son Alex, but it was hard. After Ahm-Shere, the fear of losing his family was still deeply ingrained in the adventurer.
"Don't worry, he's fine," Evelyn placated her husband with a smile. "The captain is showing him the inner workings of the engine room. You know Alex, if it moves, he has to know why and how."
Still uncertain that his son's safety was assured, Rick up and down the steamer.
"Ardeth is with him."
Rick's eyebrows arched in surprise, "You asked a Med-jai chieftain, a leader of thousands, a warrior of God -- to play 'nanny' to our son?"
"Of course not," Evelyn shrugged. "He offered."
"He offered," Rick repeated as he shook head, a grin starting to spread on his face.
"Rick," Though secretly pleased to see a smile return to husband's face, Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted to see it aimed at a scimitar-carrying warrior. "Don't you dare tease Ardeth." She warned.
"Now, Evy, would I do that?" Rick asked as he feigned innocence.
"Yes, you would," Evelyn smiled back.
MRMRMRMRMR
Professor Marsden kept watch on the tall American adventurer from the corner of his eye as he continued to get closer to Jonathan Carnahan. The disagreement between the boorish Englishman and his family, though unexpected, was working to his advantage, as their conversations became more in-depth and less guarded.
"Mr. Carnahan."
"Jonathan, please." The younger Englishman smiled affably.
"Of course, then I insist you call me Percival, Jonathan. I mean that's what friends do."
"Indeed they do Percy," Jonathan saluted as he sipped on a warm whiskey.
Marsden barely managed to hide his distaste behind a smile as his fellow Englishman hacked away at his name, turning an honored title handed down through four generations of Marsdens, into a school yard titter. Putting aside his true feelings for his new traveling companion, Marsden realized he was running out of time. Even with Jonathan Carnahan on his side, the steamship would soon arrive in Egypt and if he was going to find out how the O'Connells got their information, he would need to now more.
With no words expected, Marsden motioned for his manservant, Sahir, to top up Jonathan's drink while he leaned in closer to his slowly relaxing companion.
"Jonathan?"
"Mm, yes, Percy," Jonathan answered as he licked the malt tasted from his lips.
Marsden cringed slightly, but continued, "I am not usually one to pry into other peoples business, but my curiosity has got the better of my manners and I must ask you about the gentleman that you and your family travel with."
"Oh, you mean, Ardeth?" Jonathan answered casually, seeing nothing wrong in the professor's interest. When he himself first had set eyes on the chieftain, he had been more than curious, he had been afraid of this fearsome man in black.
"Ardeth? If that is that his name--he is a remarkable looking fellow. The markings and the robes, they are very unusual," Marsden continued to probe.
"Not for a Med-jai warrior they're not," Jonathan explained.
"Mead-je?" Marsden frowned, deliberately misquoting the name.
"No," Jonathan shook his head and spoke more clearly. "'M-e-d-j-a-i. They are a very ancient group of people you know. Their sole purpose in life is to guard the ancient cities. Can you imagine that?"
"Oh, that Med-jai," Marsden feigned recall. "I remember reading about them in the ancient text. They guarded the Pharaohs in life, but surely in these enlighten times, and with the Pharaohs long since dead, these men are no longer needed?"
"Oh, no on the contrary, old boy," Jonathan continued, failing to notice the look of disdain Marsden aimed in his direction at his casual reference. "You have no idea when you are going to need a Med-jai warrior at your back," Jonathan said cryptically.
"I don't understand."
Jonathan physically shuddered as he recalled the many battles fought against Imhotep and the scorpion King. "And I hope you never do."
"Oh come now, Jonathan," Marsden politely snorted. "Please don't tell me that you believe in those absurd curse rumors?"
'Believe?" Jonathan replied as he down the last of his whiskey. "Percy, old man, if you had seen what I 'have' seen, you would not doubt even the tooth fairy."
Now Marsden knew he had been right all along. That it was the O'Connells that had fabricated the 'live mummy' theory to explain the chaos and destruction that surrounded British Museum that night. However, that still did not explain how the O'Connells had found Ahm Shere, or the treasures that were supposedly from the missing city of Hamunaptra.
"This Ardeth chap," Marsden said quickly changing the subject. "He is a friend?"
"Oh you could say that. You know he is actually more than 'just' a warrior, he's--," Jonathan lowered his voice as he looked around as if making sure the would not be overheard. "A Med-jai chief."
"A chieftain?" Marsden looked suitably impressed. A Med-jai chieftain away from his people was one thing, but in London, that was unheard off. He was more sure than ever that this 'Med-jai was the source of the O'Connells amazing luck, but he needed to be sure. Noting the near empty bottle, Marsden gestured to Sahir for another. "My finest bottle Sahir, understand?"
Sahir bowed, "Yes, sir, right away."
"Oh no," Jonathan said shaking his head. "I shouldn't. I mean it's a bit early in the day at all that--but I guess it would be impolite to refuse."
"Indeed it would, especially over a card game," Marsden replied as he pulled a deck from his pocket. "After all, I do believe I have some money to win back." * And some information to learn *
MRMRMRMRMR
"You found that interesting, young O'Connell?" The Med-Jai Chieftain queried the child at his side.
"Sure did, didn't you?" The youngster asked eagerly.
"I am sorry to say, I did not. Though I do find it interesting that your people have this need to go faster than a horse or camel and fly higher than the birds."
"Haven't you ever wanted to fly like a bird, Ardeth?" The youngest asked as they made their way down the berth corridors.
"I cannot say that I have." Ardeth said truthfully. "As I have painfully found out with the machines your people make, they tend to fall from the sky like stones from the clouds. No, I think I will leave flying up to the Gods' birds."
Alex suddenly stopped and turned to look at Ardeth, a look of concern on his face. "You came back because of the mark on dad's arm, didn't you?"
Ardeth hadn't been expecting the question and wasn't sure what to say to answer the boy. "That is something that maybe you should ask you father. It is not my place to speak to you of these things."
Alex wasn't about to take that for an answer. He was worried about his father. "Dad's in trouble, isn't he? That's why you're here--to look after him."
Ardeth stooped the young boy's level, placing a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder. "Your father is the strongest man I have ever known. I have seen him defeat a desert and stand off many enemies to protect those he cares for and for those he has known for only a fragment of time. He does not need me."
"But you need him, don't you?"
Ardeth smiled as he rubbed his hand into the blonde hair on Alex's head. "You are a very clever boy."
"I'm not a boy, I'm nearly nine," Alex frowned as he straightened his shoulders.
"You are nearly man," Ardeth said seriously as he stood to his full height. "I apologize." He bowed as he tipped his hand to his chest and his forehead and began to walk away, only to pause, and call over his shoulder. "But, you will 'still' have to ask your father."
"Rats!" Alex whined as he ran to catch up. * Adults were such spoilsports *
About to make their way up the stairs toward the deck, Ardeth and Alex stepped back as a group of passengers made their way down the stairs. A mixed grouping of English men and women happily as they descended the stairs, only to stop talking when they set eyes on the strange looking man in black. Noting the young white child at his side, one of the women covered her mouth with her hand and whispered into the ear of her traveling companion. The man frowned, seemingly in disagreement before shrugging his shoulders and nodding his reluctant acquiescence.
"Excuse me lad," The mustached gentleman inquired of Alex, keeping an eye on the marked man as he stepped closer. "Are you all right with this 'gentleman'?"
"Of course, why shouldn't I be?" Alex asked with child-like innocence.
"Your parents know that you are alone with this--er--man?" The stranger persisted.
"Yes," Alex said more forcefully, he wasn't too young to understand what the stranger was suggesting and he didn't like it at all. "If it's any of your business!"
The woman whose idea it had been for her husband to intervene shook her head with dismay at the young boy's rudeness.
"Alex!" Ardeth gently reprimanded. "Apologize for your rudeness."
"But Ardeth...."
"Apologize, please," Ardeth repeated.
"Sorry," Alex through clenched teeth, his head hanging down as he looked at his feet.
"Not much of an apology," the woman sniped to her friends.
"At least my young friend's rudeness was spoken with honor, yours was not," Ardeth said as he gave a half-hearted bow and gestured for Alex to continue up the stairs to the deck.
"I beg your pardon?" The mustached man said, taking offense at Ardeth's implication.
"Excuse me, Ladies, Gentlemen," Sahir said as he carefully pressed his way through, carrying the bottle he was ordered to fetch from the cabin pressed to chest.
"Damn foreigners!" One of the men said as he pushed Sahir toward the step.
Only Ardeth's quick action stopped Sahir from falling on to the stairwell. "Are you all right?" The Med-jai asked as he helped the Indian to regain his footing as the passengers moved away tittering amongst themselves.
"I have had worse. Thank you sir," Sahir said as he checked to make sure the whiskey bottle was intact and made his way up the stairs to the professor.
Alex was waiting upstairs as Ardeth appeared on deck, noting a small streak of blood on the Med-jai's hand. "You're hurt."
Ardeth hadn't felt a blow or any pain and giving the back of his hand a quick glance and seeing a small cut, he shook his head. "Do not worry yourself, it is nothing but a scratch, young O'Connell."
Alex quickly dismissed his concerns as he spotted his parents at the bow of the boat. About to run to see them, he stopped and looked back at Ardeth, "You know, those people were wrong. We're not in England anymore," he smiled. "So they're the foreigners."
Ardeth smiled at the truth of the young man's words, absently rubbing the scratch as he watched Alex turn away and run down the decking toward his parents.
TBC