Chapter 6: Ardeth's Victory


****

On the other side of the camp, Faisal ibn Sheik heard it, too, and he gripped his rifle tight. He had known his leader since Ardeth was only a boy, and his loyalty was unwavering. If O'Connell could not do it, he would fire one shot tonight, and one shot only.

It was the only thing he could do for Ardeth, the only thing he had to offer.

****

"You ruined my life," Kadyn cried. The Med-jai was beyond hearing him, but he did not care. "Everything I ever wanted -- you destroyed!"

He touched his face, feeling the scars beneath his fingers where once the tattoos of the Med-jai had been. Once he had been part of a proud culture, an ancient sect whose members were well versed in strength and nobility. Was not the proof right in front of him?

He kicked Ardeth again, but there was little force behind the blow. "Damn you," he panted. "Damn you! I never wanted this!"

Once he had longed to be a strong warrior. Once he had had that chance, before he had thrown it all away. "I never wanted this," Kadyn Nah repeated. Tears stung the backs of his eyes. "But you never gave me a choice."

It was time to end it. He pulled the knife from its sheath, the same knife that he had used to cut away his tattoos and sever the last tie between him and the Med-jai. He dropped to his knees in front of Ardeth. "It's over," he whispered. "Over."

****

Even as a little girl, Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell had never been the type to sit back and let others do for her. There had been times when her courage had been lacking, but never her determination. She had always forged ahead, making her own way in life.

To sit here and be essentially helpless ate at her like nothing else could. As the evening deepened into night, she snapped at Alex and Jonathan and paced the camp fretfully, occasionally glancing up, wondering if she had heard gunshots.

Had she sent her husband to his death? The notion tormented her, and she wanted to groan aloud. She might never see him again, and the last thing she had done with him was have a joke at his expense. How could she have been so insensitive?

"Evy?" Jonthan spoke hesitantly -- and little wonder, given how she had been treating him all night.

She looked at her brother, trying to be patient. "What is it, Jonathan?"

He swallowed hard and one shoulder jerked in a reflexive gesture of uncertainty. "I, ahem." He cleared his throat. "I wanted to let you know that I've decided to move out."

Evy stared at him as if he had gone insane. What on earth was he talking about?

"Move out," Jonathan went on, oblivious to her shock. "Get a job. All that sort of stuff."

"Jonathan?" She folded her arms. "Are you running a fever?"

Her brother shook his head, exasperated. "For God's sake, Evy! I'm trying to be serious here."

"It sounds to me like you're joking," she said. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Alex creeping close, hanging on their every word.

"This just -- all this--" Jonathan made a sweeping motion with his arm. "It's made me think. About money, and treasure, and the important things in life." He gave that sharp shrug again. "Family. Friends."

Stunned almost to tears, Evy could think of nothing to say.

"So I'm turning over a new leaf, old mum." Jonthan smiled bravely, but he was obviously terrified by the decision he had just made. "When we get back to London, no more living in your house, eating your food. No more drinking, and no more bloody gambling. I mean it."

Those were a lot of changes for one man to make all at once, and Evy knew he would never do it all, but she was fiercely proud of him at that moment. The big brother she had idolized in her childhood and taken care of since she was an adolescent, had finally grown up.

She hugged him. "Oh, Jonathan."

He hugged her back, shaking a little, and she closed her eyes, wondering how she had gotten so lucky to have these amazing men in her life.

****

He raised the knife.

"Let me go," Ardeth said.

Not in Arabic. But in Ancient Egyptian. The language used at the rites of manhood. The language of the Creature. The language that reminded the Med-jai who they were.

Kadyn's hand slumped back to his lap.

Amazing. He was thirty years old, only five years younger than Ardeth. For three days he had mercilessly tortured the leader of the Med-jai, and now at the end, Ardeth was still stronger than he was. Strong enough to face death unflinchingly, without begging. Strong enough to give that quiet command, and to expect it to be obeyed.

Stronger than he was. Kadyn Nah knelt on the sand, and did not know what to do.

****

He was close now. Rick crouched down behind Kadyn Nah's tent and slowly, carefully, pulled back the hammer on his pistol.

****

Life was full of irony.

Take, for instance, the fact that Kadyn Nah had unknowingly given him the key to his freedom.

The bottle. When it had broken, razor-sharp shards of glass had fallen behind him. It was a simple thing to pick one up, to cut himself with it. The blood made his hand slippery, and he was able to pull it through the manacle with a minimum of effort. Kadyn had been too busy kicking him at that point, and had not even noticed what his captive was doing.

This by itself was good, but one more thing was needed. And Kadyn gave it to him.

I never wanted this, Kadyn had said, almost in tears. That moment of weakness had bought Ardeth precious time, and when he spoke to Kadyn in Ancient Egyptian, he had an instant when he thought that was all that was needed. The man would let him go.

But Kadyn's eyes cleared too quickly, and his hand tightened on the knife.

Nonetheless, it was too late. Kadyn Nah had hesitated too long, and now it would cost him.

With a wild yell, Ardeth let his right fist fly, ignoring the scream of pain in his shoulder from muscles that had been locked in one position for too long. The blow struck Kadyn high on the cheekbone, on the scar that had once been a Med-jai tattoo. Kadyn reeled back and thumped to the sand, his eyes wide and stunned.

Ardeth clawed at the rope about his neck, knowing that if he could not free himself in the next few seconds, he would die. Before he could do more than hook his fingers under the noose, Kadyn sprang at him.

Not daring to let go of the rope, he swung with his left hand. The steel bracelet was still about his wrist, with the empty cuff dangling from the chain. The manacle impacted on Kadyn Nah's nose, breaking it with a satisfying crunch. Kadyn howled and fell back again, dropping the knife and clutching at his face.

Desperately, Ardeth fought to free himself.

****

He was only a few paces from the tent when all hell broke loose inside. Someone uttered a fierce war cry, and Rick grinned savagely as he recognized Ardeth's voice. An instant later he heard the unmistakable sound of two men fighting.

The camp could not possibly ignore this. Knowing that their surprise attack had just been blown, Rick threw aside all caution. He flung open the flap of the tent, bringing his gun up, ready to fire.

What he saw gave him the shock of his life. A man with horrible facial scars was rolling around on the sand. He looked so similar to Lock Nah, a man Rick had only seen in the British Museum, that for a moment his heart stopped. No wonder Alex had been so frightened!

And Ardeth. The leader of the Med-jai was tied to the tentpole by a rope about his neck. There was blood on his face and his eyes were bright with pain and determination. Right now he was fighting strongly, but Rick was under no illusions as to how long that burst of adrenaline would last. He had to get Ardeth out of here, and fast.

Outside, men were yelling. Rick raised the pistol.

"O'Connell!" Ardeth roared.

Rick dropped to one knee, and felt the hair rise on his scalp as he barely missed being shot in the back of the skull. The bullet slammed into the post inches over Ardeth's head, sending splinters flying.

On the ground, Kadyn Nah rolled to his knees. Murder glinted in his eyes.

Rick spun about and shot the man who stood in the entrance to the tent. There were more coming, he saw, and steeled himself for the coming fight.

But he was not the only one facing an assailant. Without looking behind him, he reached down with his left hand and drew the sword that Faisal had given him. Praying he was not handing his enemy a new weapon, he reached across his body and tossed the sword behind him, spinning across the sand.

Outside, there were gunshots and horses galloping past. The Med-jai were attacking.

****

Kadyn saw the spinning blade and lunged for it, momentarily forgetting about the knife in his hand.

"No!" The rope still held fast; he could barely move. Ardeth kicked at the man's hand, sending sand into Kadyn's face. It was the best he could do.

Reflexively, Kadyn Nah shied back, ducking his head to shield his eyes. The curved sword slid underneath his reaching fingers, spun round one more time, and then the hilt settled into Ardeth's outstretched hand.

In one swift motion, he brought the sword up, slamming it into the post, severing the rope about his neck. It fell to his shoulders, and he was free.

Kadyn had gathered himself quickly. Ardeth launched himself forward onto his knees, raising his arm across his body just in time to meet this new attack. Sparks flew as their blades met, and Kadyn's knife was wrenched from his hand by the collision.

For a moment they stared at each other over the steel of Ardeth's sword. The lantern light was reflected gold on the silver blade, and in the dark of their eyes.

Ardeth whipped his arm around and brought the sword across in a wide arc. Kadyn Nah, his throat slashed open like his brother's before him, uttered a puzzled groan, then died.

****

The first shot Rick fired was also the only one. He stood in the entry to the tent and watched the Med-jai swoop down on the camp, leaving no one alive under their attack. They rode with skilled comfort, and wielded their weapons with ease, looking nothing at all like the soft men who had once tried to stop Rick and Evy from exploring Hamunaptra. Clearly in the years since Ardeth had taken command of the Med-jai, there had been some sweeping changes among these warriors.

He was not needed outside, and a battle was raging behind him. He turned around, and so it was that he saw the moment of Kadyn Nah's death. He saw Ardeth strike the killing blow, and the blood that splashed up from the blade.

He could not see Kadyn Nah's face as the man fell over and died, but he did not have to. He knew the surprise that would be on the man's face for all eternity, the surprise and the hatred and the sorrow at finding out that even at the end, he was not strong enough, after all.

Rick stared at Ardeth. The leader of the Med-jai knelt on the sand, still holding his sword in his bloodied right hand. A length of dirty rope was draped over his shoulders like a bizarre scarf. He looked up at Rick, and for a terrible moment there was confusion on his face, as though he could not quite comprehend what had just happened.

The sight stirred Rick into motion. "It's all over," he said. "You all right?"

Ardeth blinked, slowly coming to terms with reality. "I-- No," he said. He dropped his sword.

"Hey!" Rick started forward, then drew up short as the tent flap rustled behind him. Startled, he spun around, pulling his gun.

It was Faisal. The Med-jai commander looked at his leader for a long moment, and relief slumped his shoulders. He said something in Arabic, a question.

Ardeth answered quietly. Unable to understand what they were saying, Rick looked from one to the other.

Faisal ibn Sheik clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and left the tent.

Rick looked at Ardeth. "What did he say to you?"

"He asked if I was able to ride," Ardeth said.

Rick waited for the rest, but Ardeth would not say. "And? What did you say to him?" he finally prompted.

His friend gave him a searching look. "I said you would help me."

This simple statement hit Rick hard. He suddenly became aware that Ardeth was still on his knees, obviously hurt. He remembered the pure joy that had surged through him at Hamunaptra when he had realized the Med-jai had survived the horrors within the City. He remembered the vow he had made in his home in London. If you ever need anything... He thought of the callous way he had shrugged off Ardeth's claims that he was a Med-jai.

He walked forward and held out his right hand. "What if I was to say to you, I am a stranger travelling from the east, in search of that which is lost?"

Ardeth's eyes widened. He took the offered hand. "Then I would say that I am a stranger travelling from the west, and it is I whom you seek." He stood up. "So you believe now."

Rick shook his head. "I'm not sure. Let's just say, I'm open to the suggestion now."

"And what has made you change your mind?"

"Almost losing my friend," Rick said quietly.

Their hands were still clasped, scarlet with Ardeth's blood. "Thank you," Ardeth said. "For coming after me."

"Hey," Rick said, "a promise is a promise." Suddenly uncomfortable with how things were going, he pulled his hand back. "Come on." He smiled and jerked his head toward the night outside. "There's some people back there who can't wait to see you."

****

Epilogue

Museum of Antiquities
Cairo, Egypt
Eight days later

**

"You really worked here? How could you stand to leave it all?" Alex spun in circles, dazzled by the displays.

"Oh, I don't know," Evelyn said, smiling at her husband. "I just found some things that are more important. Real live men, for one thing."

Alex rolled his eyes and grabbed Jonathan's sleeve. "Come on, Uncle Jon! Let me show you this cartouche!" He darted off to peer into another display case, dragging his uncle with him.

"He's not going to break anything, is he?" the curator asked anxiously. He was younger than the former caretaker, but like all his predecessors before him, he was a Med-jai.

"Not on purpose," Rick said lazily.

"Daaad! I heard that," Alex called.

"I hope so," Rick called back.

Hands fluttering nervously, the curator wandered after Alex.

Rick watched his son for a bit, then turned back. "Well, I suppose this is it. We leave later tonight."

Ardeth Bay nodded. "Perhaps one day we will meet under more pleasant circumstances."

Rick chuckled. "That would be nice."

Evelyn smiled. "You must come to London to visit us sometime."

Reluctantly, Ardeth shook his head. "My place is here, with the Med-jai."

"Oh, you can leave for a little while," Rick said expansively. "After all, if anybody raises Imhotep a third time, you can just call me to come kill him again for you."

Despite himself, Ardeth smiled. "My friend, let us hope not."

Rick raised his eyebrows. "You and me both, buddy."

"You're sure you'll be all right?" Evelyn gave him a worried look.

He nodded. The pain was nearly gone, and his wounds were healing fast. For the rest of his life he would bear a scar on his cheek over the tattoos of Med-jai, but he thought there was a certain justice to this. The scar was a reminder, that there were some things in life that were too costly to consider.

And that there were some things, like friendship, that were beyond price.

Ardeth looked at his friends. He would see them off tonight, and then not again for some time. But he *would* see them again one day. Perhaps not soon, but eventually. It would happen. Fate always had a way of working things out.

Sooner or later, that is.


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END