In the Nile's Emerald Depths ch 10
We're nearing the end.
-XXX-
She stared long and hard. The man who had once been a mummy gazed back, holding his ground.
"That's impossible." Leora heard herself say faintly. She was so dazed, speech and motion felt beyond her.
The look he passed her spoke volumes. A mummy, brought back to life by her reading ancient Egyptian text (which she had previously not known how to read), restored to his appearance of three thousand years prior, claiming she was his (probably) long-dead bride. And she claimed the dead wife part was "impossible?" Leora winced.
"All of this is impossible," she revised. "I thought I was dreaming, that night, until-"
"Until what?"
"I woke up the next morning," she said simply. "And two men were dead."
He did not recoil. Instead he sat, crossing his legs. Leora averted her gaze-taking in, for the first time, that he was wearing nothing more than a sort of skirt-thing, and some sort of open tunic, the fabric of both being very familiar. She remembered the last mean were found missing a few articles of clothing. A sickening feeling came over her, but she still listened.
"It was what had to be done," he said quietly, trying to level with her eyes. "I said I would not come to you again looking as I did. Scaring you, like that…tore me apart. It was not done out of malice or bloodlust."
"Those men had families-"
He cut her off. "No. They did not. I ensured that I would be limiting the damage. I checked before."
She had been bluffing, hoping to guilt him, but he wasn't about to let her. The mummy continued.
"They were not…not good men," he went on, a little hesitant. It struck her that he'd picked up conversation rather well for one who'd been dead nearly three-thousand years. "I heard them speaking, apart from the others…If anything, I did it so they would not be around you. Such filth ought not be allowed near blatant innocence. They will not be missed."
"Oh," said Leora very, very, very softly, connecting his implications.
"I promise you, no more blood shall be shed in my name. And, I hope, your fear will be soon abated…I wish you no harm. Ever," he assured her, eyes liquid and serious. "And I shall tear down anyone who threatens otherwise."
Leora frowned. It wasn't as though her life was threatened on a daily basis-that simply did not happen. She was nobody. Death threats didn't happen to Leora Rainier. Her mother might have an occasional audience member who took the opera a little too far, and in their offended state, say something rude. Threats of bodily harm had been issued. But Leora hadn't ever been part of these threats.
She told him as much.
Now that he had actual skin and wasn't trying to chase her (though cornering her against his once-coffin was close), conversing was easier. She was by no means relaxed; speaking came without much trouble. The situation was difficult, yet she felt drawn to figuring it out. As their discussion continued she found herself intrigued with his tale. He had been married to this Masika. She was a Greek. They'd had a son-"Nsu," he said with a slight smile-but his wife had died. He'd gotten into some trouble later with one of the Pharaoh's servants (oh, how Uncle Horace would like to pick this brain-the man actually knew Imhotep), and was curse for eternity. Being raised back twice already, he had since shaken off the curse, but had been brought back each time.
"What were you? How did you know the Pharaoh? My uncle thinks you're a priest-"
"He would be right." Humor lit his eyes. "I was the High Priest to Seti. This-" he gestured. "-was my temple."
Leora nodded, thoughtful. "Uncle would be delighted to meet you-provided, of course, he didn't know about the murders-he's a big Egyptologist. People study your time, you see. It's very interesting."
She was getting lost in the thrill of who he was, forgetting the murders, the supernatural factors.
Amused, the man said, "So I've seen. They get excited over the silliest of things, your uncle and his men. Bits of pot, things like that."
"It's all that is left," Leora said sadly. "Three thousand years of history had passed this land by; there are holes."
The High Priest took her wrists again, examining them and tracing the veins. Suddenly, she fell quiet. He was being forward-Madam would've thrown a fit if she'd seen any fellow touching her charge in such a way. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to mind. A blush rose in her cheeks, hidden by the darkness, thank goodness.
"What is your name?" she asked abruptly, hoping to distract him from the awkward caresses.
Funny, that after all the things she'd learned in the last half hour, his name hadn't made the list. She'd not realized till just now that she'd mentally been addressing him as "the mummy" still. And that would not do.
"Imhotep." He inclined his head. A slight smile bloomed on his lips. "High Priest to Seti, the son of Ra."
Leora offered her free hand. "Leora Rainier. Of England, and…well, Alexandria, I guess."
"England…Alexandria? I do not know of these places."
She cursed herself, remembering that was after his time. "England is an island far away, very small. And wet, dampish. It rains a lot. But, ah, we're tough. Ruled half the world, at one time or another. Our conquests rival that of-" She almost said Rome, but that was after him too. "-Egypt. And Alexandria is a city of Egypt. It was built by a conqueror, a Macedonian named Alexander the Great. He took parts of the North and East as well."
Imhotep listened patiently. He didn't like not knowing the world beyond. It had moved from around him, as he slept in that tomb.
"What do you do in this life?" he asked her softly. "Once you worked here, with me."
"I…." she thought hard. "I'm a lady. There isn't much doing there. Waiting for life to begin, I suppose."
His hand found her cheek. "Waiting for what sort of life?"
"I don't know. Something. I'd like to work with my uncle. Digging up mummies."
"You found me?" he asked, hopeful.
"No, he did. You're his favourite," she added. "But here, in this time, you just sort of-of get married. Have kids. Have a life, I supposed."
"As we did."
Leora reeled back. "Um…yes. I suppose."
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. "You…are wary."
There was not right answer. Yes, she wasn't sure. She had not the faintest idea of what to do. A three-thousand-year-old man comes back to life claiming her to be his wife? What, precisely, did he expect of her? If it was indeed true, she wasn't going to let go of everything to—to-
Do what?
"I do not know how to react to this." She was honest. "A lot to comprehend, you know? This isn't something one simply picks up, having three-thousand-year-old men come to tell you you're their wife reincarnated. It isn't done, where I come from."
He was unimpressed. "Then what is 'done?'"
Leora considered. "Patience. Lots."
"Then I must further wait for you?" The verdict was not a pleasing one. Unhappy he shifted nearer. "Before we…start again?"
Start over? How about start at all? Had he expected her to leap for joy upon seeing him, recognize their life? That is, if she even believed in his tale at all. Leora bit back a sigh. She wanted to understand, honestly, to make things right between them. That's all she ever wanted-the murders resolved, justice, peace for the camp, safety for everyone. Not some ancient love story and decaying corpse following her about, on a brief killing spree (though, she mused, eying Imhotep, when he was not rotting he was quite attractive, handsome, even). Coming to Egypt in the first place had been no blessing. Then her uncle taking her on this bloody trip to the blasted desert-what kind of joy was that? Yes, the Egyptologist thing was exciting, but she was growing tired of the mummies, and the sand, and the pottery bits littering their campsite. She wanted "normal." That was all Leora Rainier ever asked for out of life. The simple request of ordinary.
And yet….
She was given a passionate High Priest, a curious series of murders, and little else to show for, except perhaps the sand pooled in the bottom of her oxfords, and possibly a few accidental glimpses of shirtless workers as she snuck (unsupervised) around the various worksites of Thebes.
Typical.
"I don't know," she said again. "But…I suppose when the time comes, we'll figure it out."
He was not happy. "And until then?"
Yes, what to do with him? She couldn't very well leave him here, alone in the temple. He was adept enough at surviving, but how much longer would that hold out? And he'd already spent a week evading her uncle and his workers-something had to give. But taking him back to camp wasn't really much of an option either. Yet, it seemed to be their best choice. She had not the slightest clue of how she was going to explain his presence to her uncle. Somehow….
So, she announced the plan-return to camp, and, in the morning, do their best to explain (in other words, lie) to Horace as to how this man, Imhotep, appeared in the midst of the night. Again, the High Priest did not appear enthused, but he said nothing, merely nodded. Leora took this as an indication to go. She began to rise, only to find herself prevented by her companion. Slowly, she lowered herself again.
One hand skirted the skin of her cheek, the other cradled the base of her skull. No advances were made; Imhotep gazed, and nothing more. A long moment passed before she was released.
-XXX-
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