Chapter Five – Remembrances

Khayriyyah Alaa' al Din lounged in the steaming tub, letting the hot water soak away the frustrations of the day. "I wonder if I'll get to take hot baths in the desert?" she thought idly. "Of course not, you silly fool," she answered herself aloud, "it's hot in the desert. Why would you want to take a hot bath in the hot desert?" She sighed deeply, the movement spilling water out onto the floor.

Khay held no hopes that she would somehow escape going to Egypt with Ardeth Bey as his wife. It was her duty as it was his. They were already technically married and nothing short of an act of God would change that. Oh, she had entertained thoughts of running away, or doing something to disgrace herself but she knew, no matter how much her heart rebelled, she could not dishonor her family or her tribe by doing something so selfish.

"I just wish I knew what he was like," she whispered. For a while, Khay had entertained the idea of asking Evelyn O'Connell if she knew anything about the Med-jai king. Then the conversation in the office took place and Khay knew from Evelyn's reaction that she and Ardeth Bey were good friends. She couldn't ask her now, it would be too awkward. Still, there was no one else who even knew the man, not personally anyway. Of his reputation, there was much to learn from the Med-jai tribe. Even this far away, the tales of his honor and bravery were legendary. But what of the man himself? All Khay knew for certain was that he had loved his first wife very much.

"How in the name of Allah can I compete with that?" she wailed inwardly. Sadly, her soul had no answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The small dining room was ablaze with light. Ardeth surveyed the table over his glass and smiled to himself. It was good to be with his family. Even Jonathan had come this night and it was good to see him, too. Truth was, he hadn't enjoyed himself so much since the O'Connell's were in Egypt.

"I say, it's tonight, isn't it?" Jonathan remarked suddenly as the thought came to him. "One year since old Imhotep's buddies raised his rotting carcass from the dead again."

Rick rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Oh, yeah. Thanks for the reminder. I'd almost forgotten."

Evy didn't lose a beat. "Yes, it had definitely slipped my mind."

"Mine as well," chimed Ardeth somberly. "To think that one year ago was my first bus ride."

"And my first extended tour of the famous sites of Egypt," Alex added.

"And Evy's first look at the romantic oasis of Ahm Shere." Rick gibed.

"Poor Imhotep. He ended badly," Evy said, her lips twitching despite her serious tone.

Jonathan nodded. "Yes. Let that be a lesson for you, children, that's what you get for trying to take over the world. Remember that," he advised gravely to Alex and Azizah. The mood held for a moment, then they could no longer hold their straight faces. The room rang with laughter.

"Not to change the subject," Jonathan continued when they'd calmed somewhat, "but I can't help but wonder if you've got some relatives hereabouts, Ardeth."

"Really? Why so?" Ardeth asked, still smiling.

"I came across that name the other day, believe it or not, in the records at the library. I was doing some research for my class and I. . ."

"Class?" The Med-jai's head tipped slightly to the side in question. "I was not aware you were continuing your studies."

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually . . . that is I've begun . . ." To Ardeth's surprise, Jonathan blushed. "I'm teaching a course in Egyptology at Oxford. After all that happened last year, I rather decided that I could put my life to better use than gambling and drinking."

"Amazing, isn't it?" grinned Rick, obviously proud of his brother in law.

"Yes, who'dve thought it?" Evy, too, beamed at him. "And to make matters worse, he's quite good at it from what I'm told."

"Yes, well, ahem, as I was saying, I was in the library doing some research and I came across the name 'Ardeth Bey'. I did some checking and someone with your name attended Oxford about fifteen years ago. Quite a chap, too, from what I could gather. As well as one of the top five in his class, he was school fencing champion three years running, and was quite proficient in mathematics as well. Seems he never finished though. There is no record of him after those three years."

"Could this be someone related to you, Ardeth?" Evy asked with a smile. "I mean, it's not exactly a common name around here."

"It's not a relative, is it Ardeth?" Rick's eyebrows raised and Ardeth knew that he'd said nothing to Evy or Jonathan about his past. Still, he hesitated. He felt comfortable with these people he'd come to consider his family and he didn't want to spoil it with particulars. Rick, on the other hand, had other ideas. "Time to come clean, old buddy."

"'Come clean' about what, Dad? What are you talking about?"

Ardeth's next words answered Alex's questions. "He is not a relative. He is I."

"You!?" Jonathan choked on his wine.

"My goodness, Ardeth!" Evy remarked while absently pounding her brother on the back. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Ardeth shrugged. "It was a part of my life that was long ago. It did not occur to me to say anything until we encountered someone who had known me then."

"That horrid man on the docks!"

He nodded. "I told O'Connell that I had attended Oxford in case someone came looking for me. I did not make many friends in my time there." His voice took a decidedly ominous turn. "That man we met, Milton, will not be pleased that I have returned. He is of the impression that I cheated him of something he coveted. Something he had aspired to have long before I came to the school. I am not entirely certain he will not seek out retribution."

"Retribution? My goodness, Ardeth, what could you have possibly taken?"

"The Asbury Medal." Jonathan had recovered his voice and was looking at Ardeth with something akin to awe. "You won the Asbury Medal three years in a row."

Ardeth nodded.

"What's the Asbury Medal?" Alex wanted to know.

"It's the University's fencing championship. It was established by John Spencer Milton, Viscount Asbury, over a hundred years ago." Ardeth was impressed. Jonathan had obviously done his research.

"And I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess that this Milton guy we ran into last week is related to this Viscount Asbury somehow." Rick was looking at Ardeth, his expression clearly wondering why his brother had failed to mention this particular piece of information.

Ardeth shrugged. "His great-grandfather."

"And one of the premier fencers of his time! And in the medal's history, the winners have all been related in some way or another to the Milton family. Except. . ."

"Except Ardeth! That's fabulous!" Alex was clearly impressed. "Can you show it to me sometime?"

Ardeth couldn't help it. He smiled at Alex's enthusiasm and motioned to Azizah who had been busily eating her second helping of dessert during this whole exchange. "Come here, ameerah." He whispered something in her ear and she took off running. He looked after her fondly. "Your cook will have her fatter than my horse," he remarked to Evy with a smile.

She only smiled back. "You're changing the subject."

His hands raised in defeat. "I can only try."

Mrs. McLearan, the O'Connell's housekeeper and cook, took that moment to enter the dining room. "I've laid a tea in the library," she informed Evy as she began to gather the plates. "And I've made some of the raspberry tea you like so well, Mr. Bey."

Ardeth smiled and thanked her and the older woman blushed bright pink. She'd taken quite a fancy to the visitor and his daughter and went out of her way to make new dishes that she thought they might like. Ardeth rued the day she'd discovered Azizah's sweet tooth, however, for she'd since made more and more wonderful desserts to feed his daughter. "She's too skinny!" Mrs. McLearan had declared. He was convinced the woman was determined to make his daughter as round as herself but could only smile at her genuine and loving nature.

Evy waited until they'd settled into the library with hot cups of tea before she resumed her questioning. "So, you attended Oxford for three years. Why didn't you continue on?"

"I needed to return home. My father had become ill."

"And you became king and couldn't come back, right?" Alex asked.

"That is correct. To be honest, I would not have finished anyway. I did not like this place then. It held few friends and I grew tired of the cold and damp."

"I can see how that could happen," Rick remarked into his teacup, earning him a slug from his wife.

"Just out of curiosity, what did you study?" Jonathan wanted to know.

Ardeth laughed. "My main course of study was ancient Egypt. My father wanted me to learn what the west knew of our history."

"Ah, yes. 'Know thine enemy'." Jonathan quoted sagely.

"Indeed. I also studied mathematics."

"Really?" Evy was a bit astonished. She'd never considered this side of Ardeth possible.

They were interrupted by a commotion in the hall and Azizah flew back into the room with a large, flat box in her hands. "Here it is, Babu. It was just where you said." She handed her father the box she carried and climbed onto his lap.

"Thank you, habibah. Alex," he motioned for the boy to join him, then opened the lid. Lying side by side on a black velvet bed were three medals cast in gold. Each bore the inset of a rampant lion holding two crossed swords in his paws. Alex gasped in wonder and delight for each medal was a work of art. The lion's eyes were small rubies and his claws were glittering diamonds. The hilts of the swords were black onyx and the blades glimmered silver.

"The Asbury Medal," Jonathan breathed from where he leaned over Ardeth shoulder.

"Nice," Rick remarked.

Evy only stared at the beautiful disks. "You must be very proud of them!" she managed after a moment.

"They are among my most prized and hated possessions."

"What?" Everyone but Azizah was surprised.

"They are symbols of my youthful arrogance and pride. I have kept them as reminders of the man I defeated. The man I do not wish to become."

"Milton."

"I had no desire for these medals. I did not understand at the time the honor and tradition they represented. Like an unreasonable child, I wanted to possess them so that Milton could not."

"You didn't like this man," Evy remarked dryly.

Ardeth grunted. "He and I hated each other from the moment we met. From the first day we fought for control. We each had to be first in everything. I was determined to master fencing to defeat him, as it was his craft. He became interested in mathematics only after learning that I was the head of our class in that subject."

"But why did you hate each other?" Alex wondered, his face mirroring his confusion.

The room turned quiet as they waited for his response. Finally he spoke, "I was fifteen."

"Fifteen?" Evy interrupted, her eyebrows raised.

Ardeth only shrugged, then continued, the words pouring from his soul like tainted blood from a septic wound. "I knew that someday I would be king of my tribe and that my father had sent me to university to learn the ways of the men I would have to kill to protect our secrets. I was young and proud, alone and afraid. There were Med-jai in the city but I felt isolated. I was torn between my duty and my fear and it weakened me. On the first day, I wore the clothes my father had had purchased for me so that I might better fit in among the westerners." He laughed, a bitter, tight laugh that seemed as if it must hurt his throat.

"Milton and his friends were the first people I met on my way to class. It was clear to them that, even in my western clothes, I was foreign. My tattoos, my accent, and though nothing was said about my lineage, it was clear to them even then that I was more at that moment than they would ever be and they hated me for it. And to me, they represented everything I would never have - choice, freedom, the luxury of spending days free of danger and threat. For that, I hated them just as much. Only their fear of me kept them distant."

"I don't understand," Alex said in a soft voice. "Why would they be afraid of you?"

Ardeth fixed him with a firm gaze and raised his hand to rest against the side of Alex's face. "Change. My being among them signaled the end of their world as it had always been. Privilege and power were no longer theirs for the taking. My skills showed them that. They realized that they would have to prove themselves worthy in the eyes of a changing world and they feared that they would not measure up."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The tall, painfully thin man idly stroked his small mustache, smoothing the sparse hair as he thought. His light gray pinstripe suit complemented his darker gray hair and gave him the look of an aging gentleman. Only his voice, cold and controlled, gave any hint that he was, perhaps, not what he seemed.

"So you think this Bey is one of these Med-jai?"

"I am almost certain of it. We've spoken of it in some detail and given what Milton has told me of the man, it seems more than likely." Croft looked to Milton who nodded his assent.

"From what Croft has told me about the markings of these Med-jai people, they are identical to the ones Bey wears on his face." Milton didn't hide the revulsion he obviously felt about Ardeth Bey's facial tattoos. "I also told him, however, that Bey is disciplined and intelligent, the god-rotting heathen. It will be difficult if not impossible to get any information from him he doesn't want to disclose."

The tall man waved off Milton's concerns. "We have our ways. I can personally guarantee that he will talk, given the proper incentive. Tell me more about the child you saw, and the white couple that was with him."

They discussed in detail all that Spencer Milton could remember about the meeting on the street. His hands fisted tight as his rage built anew. Finally, the three men concluded their discussion and decided that they would each do what they could to discover the identity of the couple who was with Ardeth Bey and the child he was so protective of.

"Remember, when you find Bey, I want a piece of him. I owe him for what he did. And for other things," Milton absently stroked his still healing cheek.

"I'll remember. For now, I think we should part. It wouldn't do to have someone see us spending too much time together. I will contact you if I discover something, and I expect you to do the same. Until later, gentlemen."

The man shrugged into his overcoat and put on a felt hat, adding inches to his already tall frame. He turned to leave then turned back. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot." He raised his right arm, elbow locked tight, fingers together and palm flat out front. "Heil, Hitler."