Caravan of Fools

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in The Mummy (1999) except for my OCs.

"The man who knows how to lead one of his brothers towards what he has known may one day be saved by that very brother."
~ Egyptian Proverbs

Dark flashes of ebony hair swayed to and fro ahead of him as they ran through the golden temple halls. The beads and jewels that adorned the hair jingled, twinkling as she ran faster. The girl turned and laughed at Imhotep, imploring him to hurry.

Night after night, Imhotep dreamt of a mystery woman. She always eluded him right outside of his grasp. It drove him mad.

The figure ahead of him stopped, pulling him down into an alcove in a mess of giggles. Her face was obscured from view. Imhotep drank her intoxicating musk of lotus and cinnamon. The feelings this tiny woman evoked in him drove him crazy with desire.

"Hush," the lilting voice commanded. "We mustn't be caught!"

Imhotep had no idea what she spoke of, but he smiled and kept quiet. Her presence made him feel inebriated with giddiness.

Heavy footsteps passed them, and the small woman curled into his arms. The feeling of her skin on his was electrifying. It awoke feelings in him that he didn't even know he could feel, even in his dreams.

Her heart beat fast against the palm of his hand, and he held her there in that small alcove. He wondered what it was they were running from. Why did they need to hide? Something about her made him want to stand up and declare to the world that she was his woman. He wanted to protect her at all costs. He held her tighter in his arms as they waited for the commotion to pass them.

The woman looked up at him, her face hidden from view. "Imhotep," she spoke. The way her name sounded on his lips made him shiver.

"Yes, my love?" He asked. He wasn't sure, but it felt right.

"Will we always be together? No matter what happens?" He could see the glint of her eyes through the gloom. They were pools of dark obsidian, heavy with sadness.

Swallowing against his onslaught of emotions, he wrestled with his dream. Who is this woman? Why does she feel so right here in my arms? Gods…I would do anything for her…but why? Why do I feel this way?

Imhotep stroked her fine hair from her face, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. But that only seemed to hide it further. He frowned as he looked down at her. Feelings of passion and love flooded him from nowhere, powerful in their onset. He pulled her tight against her chest, noting how perfectly she fit.

"Yes, my love…I would do anything." Imhotep knew that he meant it.

A small hand reached up to touch his face, and he melted into her touch. Soft pink lips made contact with his own, and he reveled in her silky essence. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, leaving him feeling raw and uncensored. She was unlike anything he had ever felt before. She must be a Goddess.

The scene suddenly shifted, and he was falling down a cavernous shaft. A scream ripped from his throat as he cascaded down. He hit the ground with an unceremonious thud. Opening his eyes, cold night air assaulted him. Screams echoed around the tunnels he resided in, coming from all directions. Imhotep searched for the Goddess, fear rising in his throat, but she was nowhere to be found.

The temple they had been in now seemed decayed and ancient. Looking down at his hands, he saw that they, too, were ancient, leathery, and paper-thin. Trying to scream, no sound came out. He felt as if he were choking on sand. Trying in vain to get a breath, he spun around the room, searching high and low for the mystery woman. For an exit. Anything. But as he looked around, his body began to crumble, and he fell like dust onto the ancient floor.

A feeling of profound loneliness came upon him. Now, he was truly alone.

~The Nubian Desert, 1299

Rustling horses awoke Imhotep from his fitful sleep. Struggling against the sheets wrapped around his torso, he sat up, wiping away the sweat on his brow. The dream haunted him. He knew that the Gods worked in mysterious ways, but he wished his dreams would not plague him night after night. He'd been having prophetic dreams of the mysterious Goddess for months. Ever since he had left the city of Thebes. Each night the dreams seemed to get more and more depressing. Death, despair, and betrayal pierced his heart. He wished he knew what any of it meant.

Shaky, he sat up and huffed. No one else in the camp was awake yet. As he watched the sun rise over the horizon, he felt woefully out of place. The first rays of sunlight were breaking over the top of the ridges of the distant sand dunes. The vast Egyptian sky was a bright magenta, winking out any remaining stars as the sun rose over the horizon. Groaning, Imhotep wished he could go back to sleep and feel the woman's hands caress his face once more…no. He did not wish to suffer anymore today.

Seti had asked Imhotep to join his campaign to conquer the Hittites. He wanted to take back land previously belonging to the empire. So far, they had been unsuccessful. Imhotep's whole body felt stiff from sleeping on the cold ground. Grimacing, he did not want to face another day under the scorching heat.

The sound of his fellow soldiers waking up around him made its way to his ears. Imhotep sat, still in a daze from his dreams. Anguish rang in his ears; a pair of obsidian eyes laced with gold burned into his memory. He shook his head, stood quickly, and dispelled any lingering thoughts. He didn't have time for these strange prophecies the Gods wanted him to make sense of. He made his way to Seti's sleeping quarters 一his caravan was not hard to find. It was the only one protected from the desert's unforgiving elements.

In the gloom of the caravan, Imhotep saw that Seti was awake. His youthful vigor was inspiring. Seti was often the first to wake, the first at the battlefront, and the first to be wounded. Though a bit stupid, he was a prolific warrior with the heart of a lion.

Seti was in the corner, pouring over plans for his military campaign with his advisers. Imhotep had become a good friend of the royal family. He had moved up the ranks and become the High Priest. He was not only the third most important man in all of Egypt but a best friend to the Pharaoh. Though, on this military siege, the Pharaoh had been ornery and out of sorts. Seti often pushed the soldiers to trek through the desert at its zenith, well into the cold desert nights. Seti claimed it would give them a better advantage over their enemies. But Imhotep thought it tired the men out quicker, leaving them vulnerable. There was nothing he could say, though. Seti was no stranger to callousness; he had left many to be forgotten in the sands of time. Imhotep did not like to think of it.

Imhotep rustled the curtain and alerted Seti to his presence.

"Imhotep! My friend, good morning!" Seti said, a slight smile on his youthful face.

Imhotep faltered in his step, confused by the uncharacteristic cheerfulness this morning. He regained his composure, "Good morning, my Lord. I trust you had a good night?"

The Pharaoh's smile got bigger. "Yes! Yes, indeed, I have. And!" Seti said, picking up a papyrus from the table, "We have a new plan of action. We are to abandon our campaign with the Hittites and move on to our neighbors in the South. They won't see it coming!" He was giddy with excitement, bouncing from foot to foot.

The Kingdom of Kush was a crown jewel in the eyes of the Pharaoh. The empire sourced much of its ivory, gold, silver, and slaves from the Kushites. But from the look on Seti's face, Imhotep knew he had more than trading on his mind this time.

"My Lord, do you mean we are to attack the Kushites? For what reason?"

Vexed, Seti slammed the papyrus back down on the table. "The Kushites have been refusing to allow for the purchase of slaves any longer, and well…." He drew out the last word and inspected his fingernails for dirt. "They are taking up territory that belongs to me anyways."

Imhotep knew this was a mistake but said nothing. He knew that once the Pharaoh had made up his mind, there was no changing it. His head swirled with images of the friends he had watched die and had to leave behind. He grimaced, knowing that Seti was impulsive.

"Breakfast! Where is breakfast?" The Pharaoh huffed.

Servants ran around the caravan in a panic and procured fresh fruits, meats, and bread from thin air. Imhotep's stomach growled. Though he was a close friend of Seti, he was still considered a soldier. He received the rationed dried meat, bread, and beer with the rest of them.

The Pharaoh stopped eating, mouth full of food. "Well? What have you to say? You always have an opinion on something, even if you are rather mysterious about it." Seti mumbled the last part under his breath.

Imhotep chuckled, "Yes, my Lord, I have an opinion. What difference does that make? You will not listen to it."

Seti grunted and continued eating in silence for a few minutes. "You have proved a treasured friend to me all these years, Imhotep. But the kingdom is running low on precious supplies, and I must do what I must do."

What Seti meant by this was that the royal court was running low on dancing girls and polished ivory. Seti was nothing if not dramatic and spoiled.

"I feel it is not wise to instigate the Kushites." Imhotep bent down, his voice low, "We have many Kush soldiers fighting in our army. You wish to turn them against their own people?"

Imhotep noticed a Kush servant from across the room freeze in the corner of his eye.

The Pharaoh put down his bread and looked away. "The slaves are my property; they will do as they're told, or they will see what I do with traitors." Seti's eyes went cold. "You are not to speak a word of this to anyone outside of this room, understood? We need all of the men thinking we're going home."

The sun seared into his flesh, burning it with its unforgiving flames. His flimsy sandals were full of hot sand; they were apt to break at any moment. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them. The soldiers continued their long and arduous trek through the desert. They had left at midday, the worst time of day, and Seti was well covered in his caravan. The men around him chattered on, undeterred by the blazing sun. They were excited to go home tonight and sleep in their beds, curled up with their wives.

To have a wife back home…. Imhotep sighed. The silky black hair and obsidian eyes flashed through his mind, leaving his heart raw. Who was this mystery woman? Did such a woman even exist? He did not know, but he hoped there was. Oh, Osiris, stop confounding me with your riddles! Lead me away from temptation! Distracted by his thoughts, he was taken by surprise as an arrow flew by his head.

"Ambush!" A man next to him cried out before he crumpled to the ground. The arrow stuck from his back. Imhotep cringed, feeling terrible, but quickly went on the alert.

The small posse stopped their trek and waited. The desert was quiet. Too quiet. Imhotep scanned his eyes over the dunes, watching for any movement. Harsh breathing could be heard all around him. Imhotep felt his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

Without warning, the desert was thrown into confusion. Men around him shouted, blood spattering everywhere. Imhotep had no time to think before he fought for his life. The Kushites! How had they known they'd be here at this time of day? How did they know their caravan did not come in peace? He didn't have much time to think. The glinting of metal rushed past his eyes, and Imhotep ducked. Grabbing for his tahtib, he turned on his attacker.

A large dark-skinned warrior rushed at him, sword over his head. Imhotep ducked once again, raising his tahtib in defense. Gritting his teeth against the assailant, he expertly deflected his attacker. Imhotep was immediately overtaken by another Kush warrior.

Throughout the chaos, a raucous call caught his ears. Distracted, Imhotep was pushed to the sand. The warrior he fought with pointed his arrow into Imhotep's face. Eye twitching, Imhotep stayed calm. With his other hand, he hooked his tahtib behind the man's legs, hoping he didn't take out his own eye in the process. He knocked the man's legs out from underneath him, pushing him to the sand. Hitting the warrior over the head, Imhotep looked around for the source of the shrill cry he had heard. There! The Pharaoh lay on the ground twenty feet from him, his chest held down under the foot of a mountainous man.

Imhotep crept closer. Seti's typical smirk had been wiped clean from his face. He lay there, chest heaving, as he bled heavily from a wound on his neck.

"You thought you could ambush us?" The colossal man spat on Seti's face. "You take our people. You've taken our land. What more can you take from us?" The man pushed his heel into Seti's chest, causing the Pharaoh to cough.

"Cheif Arabaab, Brother! I come in peace!" Seti chuckled, nervous. "What makes you think I come with fire?" Another cough wracked his frame as blood sputtered from his neck.

"I have informers. Pharaoh." The chief spit. "I have spies everywhere." Bloody spittle hit Seti's grimy face.

Imhotep flashed back to this morning in the caravan when they discussed Seti's plan. There were Kush servants who had been listening. Imhotep gritted his teeth, ready to protect his King at a moment's notice.

Confusion and anger flitted over Seti's face as he lay there, glaring up at his captor.

Chief Arabaab laughed. "I am not shortsighted enough to sell my own people to my neighbors without first testing their loyalties to me. You are a very foolish man!" He chortled. "It is too bad that we could not keep up these formalities….though…. your women are beautiful, too," Arabaab said, his eyes lustful.

Seti glared up at the chief and thrashed under his heavy foot. "No! You will never take my kingdom nor my people!"

"Is that so?" Chief Arabaab stroked his beard. "There is no one here to save you this time, Seti." He gestured to the mass of fighting men. "There is no son to replace you in your kingdom. You are a failure to your people." He smiled, his teeth black. "Imagine how they would thrive under Kush rule."

Imhotep had heard enough. Taking the chief by surprise, he knocked him to the ground, tahtib to his throat. The colossal man sputtered as Imhotep glared down at him. He pushed the wooden weapon deeper against his throat.

"Stay out of this boy!" The chief said in indignation.

"Never," Imhotep replied.

The chief pushed up against Imhotep and sprang to his feet, his sword raised over his shoulder. Imhotep squared his shoulders, ready for the attack. Arabaab ran at him, oafish in his movements, clumsy at best. Imhotep almost laughed at the man's lack of coordination.

"How did you become Cheif with skills like that?" Imhotep mocked.

The chief gritted his teeth and growled. "At least I don't need scrawny children to protect me." He glowered in the direction of Seti, who lay on the sand, not moving.

Imhotep swallowed, worried about the Pharaoh. Snapping back to the moment, he narrowly missed the chief's blow. Dodging out of his way, Imhotep fought back. He was an expert in the art of the tahtib, and he wielded it with the mastery of a true artist. Not much time passed before the chief was again on the ground, caught beneath his wooden rod.

Taking out his small hand axe, Imhotep watched the chief's eyes widen in terror as he brought it down at him. Imhotep, quick in his movements, hit the chief over the head with its base, knocking him out cold. He didn't like killing if he didn't have to. The chief's eyes rolled back in his head. That was too easy, Imhotep thought.

Sitting back on his heels, he left the chief on the scorching sand. Imhotep fought for breath. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, leaving him lightheaded. The lack of food and water in his system was catching up with him. His head pounding, he fought back against nausea threatening to overtake him. The world struggled to stay in focus under the blazing sun.

Summoning what little strength he had, Imhotep stood and dashed to Seti's side. A shallow stab wound crossed over his chest, oozing blood. Imhotep inhaled through his nose. The wounds were located where significant organs lay. His neck was crusted with drying blood, and Seti's chest rose and fell weakly. He knew that the Pharaoh's wounds could be fatal. Far from the healing powers of the Nile, the scorching desert sands would kill any man.

Feeling out of his body, Imhotep hurried back to where he had dropped his satchel hours before. He retrieved his medicine bag, hands shaking. Many of the other soldiers and the Kushite army had stopped fighting. They watched as Imhotep rushed to save the Pharaoh.

Imhotep briefly noticed the Kushite soldiers collect each other. They hoisted their chief over their shoulders before fleeing the battleground. Disappearing over the sandy dunes, they left a trail of blood behind them. It was over before it started.

Imhotep felt disoriented. He knew he had to work fast. The lack of tools and weak medicine would have to do now. Drawing in a haggard breath, Imhotep set to work. The Pharaoh was now in for a different kind of fight.

Waking up in his chambers, Seti groaned in confusion. Where was the desert? His men? The Kushites? Throwing off the heavy blanket in a panic, he grimaced and looked down at his chest. It was tightly bound in linen. Oh my Gods, am I dead? Seti felt lightheaded as the fear threatened to overcome him.

Strong hands pushed him back down to a prone position. Dark eyes bore into his own.

"Pharaoh Seti, it is alright. We are home. You must rest!" Imhotep spoke, his voice stern.

Seti relaxed at the sound of Imhotep's deep voice. Home, he was home. The plush pillows that surrounded him felt like clouds. Wincing at the sudden pain that shot through his neck as he tried to speak, he groaned.

"Imhotep…what has happened? Why are we home?"

Imhotep shot him a look of bewilderment before his face became a stoic mask.

"The Kush army ambushed us." Was his simple reply.

Groaning, Seti rubbed his sore head. His hands felt like sandpaper. "And what has happened to me? Why am I so bandaged?" He felt like he would be sick at any moment.

"Chief Arabaab attacked you. He has set up spies in our borders." Imhotep's eyes flashed. "But I have taken care of that."

Giddy, Seti forgot about the pain he was in. "What have you done to the traitors? Have you had them executed?"

Imhotep's eyes widened. "No! I have interrogated each Kushite slave in our kingdom. I have thwarted any recent plots and had them exiled. Any remaining slaves have moved ranks and will no longer have access to our secrets. It is all going according to plan."

Seti's enthusiasm diminished. He adored executions. They were great fun, though he did not do them often enough. But Imhotep was right. Keep the enemies close, but not close enough to infiltrate their secrets. He's good at this…Seti thought. And we could still have access to those voluptuous Kushhite women... Seti salivated at the thought. Chief Arabaabs face flashed through his mind, sobering him up rather quick.

"I see…" Seti sighed, sitting back on his pillows, bile rising into his throat. He swallowed and lay there for a few minutes before answering, his eyes closed. "Well! I'm quite proud of you, my friend." Seti said, cracking open his eyes to look at Imhotep.

Imhotep was rustling around with various herbs and tinctures at his bedside. He stopped. "For what?"

"For your quick thinking when I was out of commission. You've done well."

Imhotep stopped his ministrations. His hands were frozen on a clay pot. "Thank you…I have only done what I thought was best. There is no need for praise, my King."

"Yes, indeed there is! You have saved me and made stately decisions regarding the kingdom's future. I am very impressed. In fact, Imhotep… I would like you to become my Vizier." Seti looked at him, his heart pounding. Something about this moment felt momentous.

Imhotep's eyes widened, making him appear like a scared child. Gulping, Imhotep replied. "Thank you. This is quite an honor. I accept." Imhotep bowed his head at him, bashful for only a moment. His face quickly became an inscrutable mask of stoicism once more.

How does he do that? Seti thought. I wear my emotions right out on my sleeve! And my lies…however! I'll have to ask him how he does that someday….it would come in handy, wouldn't it? He mused.

"And Imhotep?" Seti said.

"Yes?"

"Please, for God's sake! Stop with the titles! No more, My Lord and My King! It's infuriating!" Seti grinned at his oldest friend, feeling nothing but love for him at that moment. "You've saved my life…and Tua-re's too. You've brought me Nefertiri! You've effectively straightened out the kingdom in my absence! I would say that merits a first-name basis, no?

"Okay," Imhotep laughed, "I can do that, my Lor-…Seti." He corrected himself. The bashfulness was back.

Seti laughed at that, happy that things were looking up. "Very well, very good, now, please tell me why my head is pounding, and I feel as if I'm not far from the arms of Anubis?"

A/N: Hi, everyone! :) Please leave a review! It would be an incentive to write and find what is working and what isn't. What do you all think about the friendship between Seti and Imhotep?