Chapter Four - Answers

"I told Alex we'd pick him up," Rick informed Ardeth as they pulled up in front of the school. "He should be along any minute. He can't wait to see you!"

Ardeth smiled. "Nor I him." He opened the car door and he and Rick walked to the gate, while Azizah and Evy caught up on their news in the car. The two men leaned against the wrought iron fence and waited for classes to dismiss for the day.

"Spencer Milton," Ardeth said suddenly, answering the question Rick was about to ask.

"Where'd you meet him?" Rick wanted to know.

"Here. In England."

"During the whole Imhotep thing?" Rick couldn't believe Ardeth had the time to socialize during his last visit to London.

"No. Many years ago." Ardeth seemed reluctant to talk about it further.

Rick, however, found his unwillingness to discuss the issue too tempting to resist. "I didn't know you'd been to England before last year."

"I had visited once before."

"And you met this Milton guy then."

"Yes."

"Oh." Rick waited a moment. "So, how'd you meet him?"

It was hard to believe but Rick could swear that Ardeth was fidgeting. He fought the urge to smile. This discomfiture on stoic Med-jai's part was fascinating. He couldn't wait to find out what this whole thing was about.

"He was a classmate." Ardeth's hesitant answer was quiet.

"Classmate?" Rick wondered. "From where?" Ardeth turned his head away and mumbled a reply. "I didn't quite catch that." Rick prompted.

"You will not let this go, will you?" Ardeth asked with a frustrated sigh.

Rick laughed out loud then. "Not on your life, brother. Besides, you started it. Now spill it."

Ardeth looked away again and studied the trees surrounding the schoolyard. This wasn't something he wanted to talk about but he supposed that it would come out sooner or later, especially now that Milton knew he was back. People might start looking for him and it would be best if the O'Connell's knew why. He heaved another great sigh and looked up at the sunny sky. "Oxford," he said abruptly.

"Oxford?" Rick asked, not quite sure what Ardeth meant.

"I met Milton at Oxford. We were classmates. We hated each other from the first day we met until the day I returned home three years later."

"Oxford." Rick repeated. He was a little shocked. It never occurred to him that Ardeth might have actually studied abroad as a young man. That would explain the perfect English, he supposed. And the western manners he was familiar with. Still, it was quite the revelation. Any further questioning was postponed as the school doors flew open and dozens of children streamed into the schoolyard. Many of them stopped short at the sight of the tall, forbidding Med-jai in his foreign robes set with curious silver symbols. This was not something they saw everyday and definitely not standing in front of their school. Before long, all of the children, who'd come out yelling and running, were standing still as stone, staring at the man beside Alex O'Connell's father.

"ARDETH!!!" The yell was loud enough to cause Rick to flinch. Ardeth, however, simply grinned and stepped forward, catching the flying boy in his arms.

"Alex!" he spoke to his heir briefly in Arabic and they laughed together. Rick could only imagine he said something about Alex's dazed school friends. Finally, Alex pulled away and motioned toward a group of boys about his age. "Guys! Come and meet my Uncle Ardeth. The one I was telling you about." Alex's words broke the silence and the small group came forward. The other children went about their way, stealing sidelong glances at the Arab and promising themselves they would find out about this strange man tomorrow.

"Ardeth, this is Charlie and Rupert and David, my friends. Guys, this is my uncle, Ardeth Bey."

Ardeth bowed his head at the threesome. "It is an honor to meet the friends of my brother's son," he said formally. The boys simply nodded, their eyes wide. The one called Charlie cleared his throat. "Are you really from Egypt? Do you really live in the desert?"

The Med-jai nodded. "I do."

Charlie's question opened the floodgates and for several minutes Ardeth answered all kinds of questions from the young boys. Eventually, Alex broke it up. "We've got to go, fellas. Ardeth and I have catching up to do."

"Alex! Alex! Alex!" A miniature white missile launched towards the group.

"Zizzy!" Alex exclaimed as he caught her. "Gosh, you've gotten tall!"

"You too, Alex." Azizah beamed at him and he smiled back. "This is Azizah, Ardeth's daughter." He introduced her to his friends. "Well, gotta go. See you tomorrow!" Alex waved at his friends and with Azizah on one hand and Ardeth holding the other he walked to the waiting car.

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Spencer Milton scowled at the doctor from over the ice pack he held against his split cheek. "What do you mean, it will leave a scar?! It can't leave a scar, I won't have it!"

The doctor sighed inwardly but outwardly composed his face into benign sympathy. "I'm sorry, my lord, but it can't be helped. The gash is quite deep. I can do my best to minimize the scarring but it will leave a very definite line."

"I'm sure the ladies will think it quite dashing," offered a voice from the doorway. "Give you that rugged, ne'er do well look they all swoon over."

Milton cursed. "What the hell are you doing here, Croft?"

Victor Croft smiled, which only made his thin lips into even thinner lines. "I heard about your misfortune, of course," he simpered unconvincingly. "As your dear friend, I came at once. To commiserate."

"To gloat, you mean," Milton spat. "Get on with it, man!" He glared at the doctor who stood at his shoulder, a needle and thread in his hand. "And make the stitches small!"

For the next half-hour, Milton yelled, cursed, derided the doctor's skill and questioned his education. Only after a warning from Croft that the stitches were crooked from all his moving about did he quiet, resorting to muttering through clenched teeth. Finally, the exhausted physician tied off the last stitch and covered the wound with white gauze. "I shall leave my instructions for the care of the wound with your valet. I will suggest that you minimize conversation to keep the cheek as smooth as possible. I'll be back tomorrow to see how you're faring. Until then, my lord." He left, closing the parlor door behind him.

"That went well," remarked Croft gaily as he left his post by the door and headed for the small wet bar in the corner.

"Shut up," Milton growled. He'd barely managed to keep from throttling the so-called doctor during the procedure and was in no temper to humor his sarcastic friend.

"Brandy?" Croft offered after pouring himself a liberal glass.

Milton stood up and grabbed the glass, downing its contents in one gulp. "Damn him. Damn him to hell!" he screamed, the shattering of the expensive crystal punctuating his outburst as it hit the fireplace wall.

Croft was nonplussed. "Really, Spencer, I didn't think the doctor was that bad. And the stitches were small. Well placed, too. I should imagine there will barely be a line for anyone to swoon over."

"Not the doctor! Ardeth Bey, damn his heathen soul! I should have killed him years ago."

"Ardeth Bey? Who's that?"

"A thorn in my side," Milton answered as he filled another glass with brandy. "Someone I met years ago. He's Egyptian or some such heathen race. He walks about like he's king of all he surveys. He wears those tattoos on his face like badges of honor instead of the freakish markings they truly are. "

Croft straightened up from where he was lounging at the bar. "Tattoos? What sort of tattoos?"

"I don't know what sort of tattoos, damnit! Swirling marks of some kind, in dark blue, on each cheek. And other marks on his forehead, like hieroglyphics."

"Do you know what tribe he's from? What race?"

"No. He never would say. You seem uncommonly interested in this, Croft. Why the hell should you care what race he is?"

"As you know," Croft explained slowly, "our mutual friends have been looking for the ancient ruins, rife as they are with treasure. They wish this treasure to support their global efforts."

"What the hell does that have to do with Ardeth Bey?" Pain and anger made Milton impatient.

"You have heard of Hamunaptra?" Croft asked.

"Of course, you idiot. That's one of the sites we're interested in."

Croft willed his temper into submission. Whatever he thought of Milton personally was moot. Milton was part of the organization and they needed him. Croft took a deep breath and continued. "It is said that the reason no one has found it is because it is protected by a mysterious tribe of desert warriors who are supposedly directly descended from the Med-jai, Seti's elite guards. They are the reason no one has ever found Hamunaptra, or, if anyone has, why the never lived to report it."

"What about those yanks all those years ago? They supposedly found it just fine."

"I highly doubt they found anything. Besides, they all died before anyone could question them, some sort of curse nonsense. That, however, is beside the point."

"Pray tell then, what is the point?" Milton wondered crossly.

"If this Bey fellow is Med-jai, as I suspect," Croft explained, as if to a child, "he can tell us the location of Hamunaptra and how to get inside."

Milton snorted. "I know this man. He's as stubborn as they come and, despite being a heathen, damn him, he's not stupid. What makes you think he would tell us anything?"

"Every man has his price. Even heathens."

"Not this man. He won't be bought." Milton said this as if it were an insult.

Croft's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Well, then, we shall simply have to find some way to persuade him to cooperate."

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That night, dinner at the O'Connell house was one of laughter and conversation and more laughter. Ardeth and Azizah's favorite foods were served, as well as some new dishes that Evy thought they might like. After dinner, the two children went off to play backgammon in the library while the adults sat in the living room, sipping tea and talking.

"I'm sorry we couldn't return to Cairo like we'd planned," Evy was saying. "Things just got so hectic here we couldn't get away."

"I understand, Evy. It was a busy time for us as well."

"Nothing bad, I hope," Rick asked, a little worried. The Med-jai's life was sworn to protect the artifacts of ancient Egypt and that was a decidedly dangerous job. He worried about Ardeth more often that he cared to admit.

"No, no," Ardeth waved his worries away, "nothing like that. After Ahm Shere we needed to train more troops. I have been training new captains." There was still sadness in his voice over the loss of the thousand men at Ahm Shere.

Rick decided to lighten the subject if he could. "Speaking of captains, how's Bashaar? Is he still keeping you on your toes?"

Ardeth laughed at that. "He is! He has recently taken a wife. I have had to train extra hours with him to keep him from getting fat from her cooking."

Rick and Evy laughed at that. Bashaar was very thin. To think of him gaining weight was quite a thought.

"Azizah is so tall," Evy remarked wistfully. "I can't believe how big she's gotten in eleven months."

"I find it hard to believe it has been almost a year since we last met. I am glad these circumstances are different." Ardeth smiled at his family. It had been almost one year to the day that they'd battled Imhotep's guards in the London streets. Almost a year to the day that Alex had been kidnapped from under their noses.

The O'Connell's smiled back. It was good to have Ardeth in their midst again. Rick and Evy had both missed him and his precocious child immensely. "I'm glad you've decided to visit," Evy said quietly from her perch on the arm of the chair where Rick was sitting. Ardeth bowed his head, acknowledging her feelings with an affectionate grin. Still, Rick could sense that there was something else going on. Something Ardeth wasn't telling them about.

"Look at the time!" Evy declared, rising to her feet as the clock struck ten. "Those two need to get to bed." Ardeth made to rise also, but Evy stopped him with her words. "I'd like to tuck Azizah in, if that's alright? I've missed her so and I'd like to see her settled in myself." Ardeth nodded, much to Rick's relief. He was grateful for the opportunity to be alone with Ardeth for while. Maybe if Evy wasn't around, he'd talk about what was bothering him. He waited until his wife's footsteps had faded upstairs before he spoke.

"So, Ardeth, not that I'm not happy to see you but why are you really here?" He said this with a smile, letting Ardeth know that he was glad to see him even if subterfuge was the thing that brought him so far from home.

Ardeth winced comically. "It is so obvious, then?"

Rick laughed. "No. I doubt anyone else would think twice. I, however, know that as much as you wanted to see us, your duty is first and foremost."

The Med-jai sighed, deeply. "Duty," he muttered dismally as he laid his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. "You know, my brother, despite what some say, there are times when it is not good to be the king."

Rick sat forward and clasped his hands together. "Tell me." Another sigh, deeper this time if that could be possible. Something was indeed weighing heavily on his brother's mind.

"Do you remember Muzakir?"

O'Connell frowned a moment then grinned. "Oh, yeah! Your grandmother's boyfriend." A short, barking laugh erupted unwillingly from Ardeth's throat. "Boy, the two of them were just too cute if you ask me. Why don't they just get married or live together or something? It's obvious that they're, you know, involved." Rick wiggled his eyebrows and Ardeth laughed again, longer this time.

"They prefer to believe they are being discreet," he admitted

Rick thought back to the time he'd caught them making love in the palace garden at midnight. "Discreet, huh? I'd hate to see them if they believed they were being obvious."

Ardeth laughed again, then spoke, waving his hand in dismissal of the subject of his grandmother as he moved on. "As fascinating a topic as it may be, that is not what is troubling me. Muzakir had a vision."

Rick waited for Ardeth to say something else. "And this vision was...." he prompted when Ardeth didn't speak.

"This vision involved me."

"And?" Rick asked. "This is going to take all night," he thought to himself as he went to the bar and poured himself a drink. He knew how hard it was to pry information out of Ardeth when he was like this.

"There was also a woman in this vision. He saw us together."

"It's not my wife is it?" Rick teased. "Cause if that's why you're here, you can forget it. She's mine."

Ardeth surged out of the chair and began to pace the room furiously. "No, no. It is not Evy. It is someone else. Someone who is a stranger to me. Muzakir saw us in this vision and then told the elders. They took it as a sign from Allah. The elders..." His voice trailed off as if the thought was too terrible to voice aloud.

"The elders what?"

"They felt that by joining the outside tribes with us, it would make us stronger, that we would be better suited to face the coming trouble. Only by doing so, they have made it impossible for me! I do not know that I can do what they ask of me!"

Rick stopped trying to make sense of what his agitated guest was saying. He only hoped that by the time the tirade stopped, he'd have at least some clue as to what the hell Ardeth was talking about. He opened his mouth to ask 'what trouble?', but Ardeth continued, so Rick closed his mouth, sipped his drink and waited, watching his brother's wild agitated gestures as he paced the room.

"I agree that by joining with the outside tribes we can only make ourselves stronger. And we lost so many at Ahm Shere. It can only bode well for us to bring some of the outsiders home to replace the warriors we lost. But this! This is too much!" He turned on Rick, his face confused and angry, his expression lost, his hands raking back through his hair. "Have I not been a good leader for them? Have I not done everything they have asked of me? Regardless of personal risk? Regardless of my own life?" Again Rick thought to answer him but was cut off. "I am aware of my duty. I am aware of my obligations. But to take a decision like this away from me! And now it is too late. It is done. And there is nothing I can do short of dishonoring my people." Ardeth finished and sank back into the chair, his energy and anger spent.

Rick cleared his throat. "Now will you tell me what's going on?" He hadn't meant it to be funny but Ardeth laughed anyway, long and loud with a slight hint of hysteria. Then just as suddenly as he started he stopped, and dropped his head into his hands. After a long moment he stood and crossed to the terrace door and opened it. "Do you not see?" he asked quietly, his face turned towards the cool breeze coming in from the dark forest that ringed the estate. "The elders have found me a wife. They have married me to a stranger." And with those words left hanging in the library, he left, leaving the terrace door open behind him. A soft sound behind him had Rick turning with all the speed of his Med-jai reflexes. Evy stood in the doorway to the hall. Her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

"I gather you heard?" Rick commented dryly. Evy nodded. "Well, what do know about that?" Rick asked rhetorically. To his surprise, Evy answered.

"I think I know who he's been married to."