This story is rated PG-13
Please send any comments to: Mommint@msn.com. Please be kind, this is my first story. :)
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~*~ Chapter 1 ~*~
He dreamt he was in a fierce battle, with his fellow Medjai, fighting against a faceless hoard of foreigners intent on gaining access to Hamunaptra, and the riches of Egypt that were buried there. The battle raged all around him, and his scimitars flashed in the sunlight, cutting through enemies with supernatural ease. He had dispatched his last opponent in a spray of blood, only to find himself standing alone on the crest of a dune. The others, including his tribesmen, had disappeared.
Suddenly, an image shimmered before him, like a mirage, and he watched with a mixture of anticipation and disbelief as it solidified into the shape of a woman. A very beautiful woman with eyes as blue as the sky of Sahara and hair colored a deep rich brown. She wore a heavy cloak that swirled around her slim body, as if it were a living thing, and then it slipped away to reveal her hand holding a pistol. It was aimed directly at his heart. Her face contorted with grief, then rage, and finally hatred so intense, her eyes glowed like the midday sun.
“You shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, bruise for bruise,” she snarled.
And then pulled the trigger.
Ardeth Bay woke up with a strangled cry and sat up, his hands checking his chest to see if the bullet had pierced his heart. As always, he found nothing there. He sat for a few moments more, composing himself as his heartbeat returned to normal, and he wearily rubbed his hands over his face.
Merciful Allah, would this ever stop tormenting him? And what did it mean? A white woman here in the desert, Ardeth thought to himself and shook his head. It made no sense.
Falling back to sleep, as it had been for the previous nights, was now impossible, and with a resigned sigh, Ardeth got up and dressed. Moments later, he stepped outside into the village and headed towards the stables, were his horses were kept. A ride in the cool night air would help chase away any lingering demons from the dream.
As he passed by the stone houses, all was dark and quiet as his people slept, their dreams peaceful and restful. He almost envied them and how innocently they slumbered, trusting in Allah and the Medjai to protect them. He reached the stables, and a few minutes later, he rode out on a big Arabian stallion, keeping the horse at a slow walk until he reached the outskirts of the village. The horse sidestepped and shook his mighty head several times, protesting the pace and almost as impatient as his master to reach open ground.
Once past the homes, Ardeth gave the big horse his head and they raced away from the village, hooves pounding and hearts beating as they rode with the wind. Ardeth bent low over the horse’s head, and for a brief time, the young chief smiled at the exhilarating sense of freedom, of being one with the horse as they galloped over the land while the first streaks of dawn chased away the dark mantel of night.
~*~
Rasheed knew something was wrong with his chief and childhood friend, but was puzzled why Ardeth said nothing. Tonight, they were preparing to go out on patrol; reports had come in from the neighboring tribes of activity near Hamunaptra again.
With a critical eye, Rasheed assessed his chief from afar as they were getting the horses ready. He noted the minor changes in Ardeth’s appearance, his slight weight loss and dark circles under his eyes. There was talk among the gossipers of the village, and while Rasheed never liked listening to old women gossip, when they spoke of the cries they heard coming from Ardeth’s home and his riding at night, Rasheed became even more concerned. He decided he would approach Ardeth and hopefully find out what was bothering his friend.
His opportunity came later that evening when the warriors made a temporary camp near Thebes and awaited further news from a neighboring tribe. Ardeth was standing off to the side of the camp, slightly away from the men and staring out at the endless sea of sand dunes. Moments later, Rasheed joined him, and the two men stood in companionable silence for several minutes.
“My chief, I need to ask you something.” Rasheed still hesitated, unsure how to begin.
“Yes Rasheed?” Ardeth raised an eyebrow over the uncertainty he usually didn’t hear in his friend’s voice.
Rasheed took a deep breath. “There is talk in the village.... about you.”
“Go on.”
“They say you don’t sleep at night, that you’ve not been sleeping at all lately. People have noticed.”
“This does not concern you. It is nothing.”
“Ah but it does, al sadeeq (my friend). Can you not see it could affect you and your leadership of this tribe? You would not only put yourself at risk but others as well.”
Ardeth bristled with anger. “Dare you assume that I would jeopardize the lives of my people with a few sleepless nights?”
Rasheed raised his hand in defense. “I only say these things to you because I am your friend. And I speak the truth that you need to hear.” He placed a hand on Ardeth’s shoulder. “Can you not tell me what is wrong?”
For a fleeting moment, a haunted look came into Ardeth’s eyes but quickly vanished.
“I am fine, al sadeeq. It’s only a dream; it will pass,” he said quietly.
“Yes, my chief.” With a heavy sigh, Rasheed let the subject drop. He had learned long ago that his chief was sometimes too stubborn for his own good.
Suddenly a rider came into the camp, bringing his horse to an abrupt stop in a cloud of dust. The warrior jumped off the animal and ran over to where Ardeth and Rasheed were standing and gave the chief a message. Ardeth silently read it and sent the messenger back with a response. Rasheed looked at Ardeth questioningly.
“That was a report from Amin’s patrol. Another caravan is heading this way, a group of Americans trying to find Hamunaptra.”
Rasheed muttered a curse under his breath. What was this endless fascination foreigners had with trying to find the city of the dead? Would they ever stop coming to his homeland in search of the fortune said to be buried there?
“How soon will they arrive?” he asked.
“Probably one, maybe two days travel. That doesn’t give us much time. Tell the men; we ride at once back to the village for fresh horses. With any amount of luck, we can intercept the Americans before they even reach here.”
Aiwa (yes) my chief.” Rasheed turned to walk away but Ardeth called out for him to stop.
“You are a good friend, Rasheed. Don’t ever think I do not value your friendship.”
Rasheed acknowledged his chief with a brisk nod, then went off towards the men, leaving Ardeth alone on the dune.
For a moment, the young chief enjoyed the solitary beauty of the desert landscape, illuminated by the orb of the moon hanging low overhead. The night sky was studded with a thousand stars, and Ardeth at that moment wished for nothing more than to be asleep under those same stars.
Suddenly, a cold wind came from nowhere and whipped across the dunes, sending the sand swirling up into the night air. It buffeted Ardeth, the long sides of his robes flapping frantically in the strong breeze, and he raised his arms for protection.
“...An eye for an eye.....an eye for an eye....” the wind howled, sounding like a tormented soul.
It increased in strength and volume until he felt like he was standing in the middle of a sandstorm. Then when he could take no more, it abruptly died down, leaving him shaking and gasping for breath.
The wind had sounded like the voice of a woman.
Jessa was the explorer, the brave one who carried a pistol, could ride and shoot better than any man, and had on more than one occasion kept her big brother from getting himself killed.
They made a well-balanced team, and from their explorations together, had built quite a respected reputation to the Travers name. While he expounded on the possible findings he could unearth if they found Hamunaptra, Jessa had made the travel arrangements, and they left for Cairo a few days later.
They were also taking along a new assistant for Adam, a young archeology student named Brian Gaines. The nearby university had an interest in Adam’s work and thought by giving him an assistant on this latest expedition, once home they could entice Adam to come work for them as a professor.
Brian made his intentions known clearly from the first day they had all met. He was interested in one thing and one thing only - the gold. And while he promised not to be a hindrance to Adam’s work, he was clearly a treasure hunter and kept his reasons to himself. Unknown to the Travers, Brian had a weakness and it was gambling. He had gambled away his entire inheritance within a few short months of receiving it and by finding the gold at Hamunaptra, he believed it was the only way to keep him out of financial ruin and payoff all his debts.
He also had a crush on Jessa, but would never say anything to anyone; he kept those feelings hidden well. He figured once he had made his fortune, perhaps then she would show more of an interest in him and not act so unlady like. When Brian first met her, he couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful young woman who had flashed him a brilliant white smile, then a handshake. Her eyes were colored blue, like the sky above and fringed with long lashes, and her hair, rich and curly in texture, hung down well past her hips. And Good Lord above, those hips were always in pants. Jessa didn’t dress like normal women. She preferred men’s pants, usually tucked into an old pair of boots and a white linen shirt.
Even now as they rode with the caravan, Brian stared at Jessa’s back, remembering all too well the first time she had bent over to retrieve something while wearing those pants. It had happened this morning, and he wasn’t the only one who was appreciating the view. His face reddened with embarrassment when she caught him staring but said nothing; instead she went back to fashioning a makeshift turban to wear for the day. And while the turban could protect her face, nothing could hide her glorious mane of hair. She had braided it this morning, so it hung down her back like a thick silken rope. It moved with the breeze, and riotous curls were escaping the confines of the pins she had used to pull it back.
Feeling someone staring at her, Jessa turned in her saddle and saw Brian. He was looking at her like she was a tasty little morsel to eat and she suppressed a shudder. Sometimes that man gave her the creeps, especially when she caught him staring at her with a wolf-like hunger in his eyes. She had no idea of his infatuation for her, so she signaled for him to come up and ride with her, and Brian instantly obliged.
“Isn’t this a glorious day?” she asked him once he reached her side.
“I suppose, if the sight of a barren wasteland appeals to you.” Brian was not impressed with what the desert had to offer.
Jessa sighed. It seemed he was in a snit over something, and she had a feeling it had to do with her choice of attire. She was used to it. Honestly, men sometimes were just so narrow-minded and it seemed this one was no exception.
“Just look at how blue the sky is....” She tried again. “Just breathtaking.” Brian instead looked at her eyes and readily agreed.
“Do you have any idea of how soon we’ll get to Hamunaptra?” she asked.
“Probably by tomorrow, if I heard one of the guides correctly. We’ll be making camp soon for tonight.”
“Do you really believe all this mummy and buried gold fairy tale stuff?” she asked when Brian once again lapsed into a moody silence.
“I’ll believe it when I see it. Your brother seems to have more faith than I do.” Jessa nodded her head in agreement. It certainly seemed like Adam was obsessed, fiercely intent on finding the legendary city. She suspected if he had his way, they would be riding all night instead of resting.
Feeling the sensation of someone watching her again, Jessa turned in the saddle, but no one was behind her except for the rest of the caravan. She scanned the surrounding rocky landscape until she spied the distant figures on horses high up on a ledge, overlooking the valley. They seemed intent on watching the caravan and Jessa felt a chill, like a premonition or a sense of foreboding. Whoever they were, she felt certain they weren’t the friendly locals.
“Pssst Brian!” She nudged him with her elbow. “Look over there, do you see them?”
“Yeah, who the hell are they?” He shaded his eyes with one hand, trying to get a better look.
“They are only the Bedouin, a nomadic tribe who lives in the region. They will not harm us,” their guide Amal suddenly spoke up from behind. “No need to worry, Missy.”
Jessa thanked him but when she turned to look again, the riders had disappeared. And for some strange reason, she felt certain she would see them again.
They made a small camp of their own, with no fires to alert anyone to their presence. And then they waited for darkness, in which they could use its cover to surprise their opponents.
Ardeth and Rasheed didn’t mention their earlier conversation about Ardeth’s lack of sleep, but now Rasheed could see it taking a heavy toll on the young chief. Twice he had almost lost his balance in the saddle; something unheard of since they had been taught to ride at an early age. His was uncharacteristically short tempered, and it flared over the innocent mistake an unseasoned young warrior had made in setting up the watch.
Rasheed had intervened, making Ardeth walk away from the poor youth he had been berating and took his friend aside, intent on finding some kind of solution tonight.
“What are you doing?” he hissed once they had reached a spot away from the men.
Ardeth wrenched his arm away. “Instructing my men on setting up the watch. What are you doing?” he snapped.
Rasheed was thoughtful for a moment. “Watching a childhood friend change into someone I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Ardeth said nothing as he wearily ran a hand over his face. By the gods, he was tired. Tired of the nightmares, tired of not sleeping and tired of arguing with Rasheed.
Defeated, he finally asked, “What is it you want me to do?”
Rasheed’s response was immediate. “Try and rest my chief. For now that’s all I ask. Conserve your strength for the coming battle. You need to do this for yourself. Before we lose our leader.”
“HA!” Ardeth‘s laugh was short and bitter. “Don’t you think I want to sleep? Don’t you think I’ve tried? Merciful Allah, the dreams are becoming too much for me to bear.” He paced in front of Rasheed, and the other man could see the anguish in his leader’s face. Rasheed reached out a steady hand to calm Ardeth down.
“Tell me about the dream, perhaps I can help?” he asked as he had always asked before, and he felt immense relief when Ardeth finally nodded his head in agreement.
A short time later after Ardeth had told Rasheed about the nightmare, the two men were on watch together, sitting on a dune away from camp. Both of them weren’t saying much, Rasheed still trying to figure out any meaning to the dream, and Ardeth not sure what to say at all. But if there was one thing certain for Rasheed, he would help his chief any way possible. The haunted look in Ardeth’s eyes was almost more than he could stand to see in his friend.
As Rasheed continued thinking, sheer exhaustion caught up with Ardeth. And even though he tried to fight it, sleep at last claimed him. He nodded off, slumping forward slightly on the sand. Rasheed looked over and saw Ardeth dozing. With a heavy sigh, the warrior let his chief sleep in the hopes he would find some much-needed rest.
~*~
“An eye for an eye....you will pay.....An eye for an eye. You killed my brother.”
The dream was almost the same. Ardeth struggled wildly for a way to elude the woman and cried out his denial. But he was trapped and waited in horror for her to fire the pistol. Suddenly she brought her hand down, without firing it, but still stared at Ardeth with hateful eyes. From within her cloak, another hand reached forward, a man’s hand holding a pistol.
Then it fired.
Ardeth’s hoarse cry echoed throughout the night, alerting the camp and Rasheed rushed over to his friend. Ardeth was breathing heavily, his brow dotted with sweat, and he looked wildly around him, as if seeking what was determined to destroy him. Rasheed grabbed him by the shoulders but for a brief moment, Ardeth resisted.
“My chief, wake up. It is I, Rasheed...you’ve been dreaming again!”
Suddenly Ardeth stopped struggling and looked at his friend with beleaguered eyes. His breathing gradually slowed down, but Rasheed saw the chief’s hands were still shaking. Turning away, Rasheed grabbed his water pouch and wordlessly offered it to Ardeth. It took a few more moments for Ardeth to compose himself, and silently Rasheed waited, until at last he asked, “The same dream?”
Ardeth shook his head. “Almost.... but the same ending.”
“Merciful Allah...” Rasheed murmured.
“I see nothing merciful in dreaming your own death. Perhaps its Allah’s will that I die....” Ardeth spoke sorrowfully as he handed the pouch back and stood up. “I just never thought I would know how.”
Rasheed didn’t reply as Ardeth went back to where his horse was staked. A few of the other men questioned their leader about his outcry but as always he waived off their concern. The second in command watched his friend ready his horse, checking the bridle and stirrups, wishing he could find a way to help. Years of training together and fighting side by side through battles, Rasheed had seen Ardeth conquer almost everything that opposed him. Now he wondered, how in Allah’s name do you conquer a dream?
Just then, a rider came into camp, drawing Rasheed’s attention as he rode to Ardeth, and after a few minutes, Ardeth waived Rasheed over. By the look on his face, Rasheed had a feeling it wasn’t good news, like the Americans returning to Cairo.
“The caravan has stopped for the night. They’re a day’s ride outside Hamunaptra. We must attack tonight.”
“Agreed my chief, but.....” Rasheed hesitated, not sure how to ask. “But what of you?”
Ardeth raised en eyebrow of the question. “What of me?”
“Are you able to ride? Will you be able to fight the foreigners?” Rasheed asked bluntly, but Ardeth interrupted him.
“I will do what is necessary,” he said as he mounted his stallion. He kept a tight control on the reins as the horse danced sideways in nervous anticipation. “I will do what is expected of me because I am your chief.”
He abruptly kicked his horse into a gallop and rode out to alert the men, leaving Rasheed staring after him, a frown on his face. As he ran to his own horse, he couldn’t stop the sense of doom, that tonight the Medjai may lose more than just a battle. His greatest fear was that they would lose their chief.
Jessa came out of her tent after refreshing herself from the day’s journey and wrapped a long robe around her for better warmth. It amazed her how a climate could be so hot during the day but frightfully cold at night. As she made her way through the camp, she spotted the guide she had been talking to earlier, and he was deep in conversation with a few of the diggers. His hands were moving rapidly as he was telling a story of the Bedouin they had seen earlier in the day, his bright little eyes animated with pleasure at how enraptured his audience was with his narration.
“...They say the Bedouin have a secret society of warriors called the Medjai, descendants of the royal bodyguards from ...AH! Missy Travers!” He ended the story and gave Jesse a toothy smile.
“Hello...Amal is it?”
The little man beamed with pleasure at how the pretty American remembered his name.
“Yes, yes veddy good. I see desert travel suits you well. You’re excited about reaching Hamunaptra tomorrow, no?”
“I suppose. I’d love to see the old ruins and explore them a little. My brother is far more excited than I.” She continued walking and waved goodbye at Amal over her shoulder.
Amal couldn’t contain his surprise, for he thought all the Americans were after the gold. As he watched the young woman make her way over to her brother’s tent, he conceded that this woman was very different from others he had met. Her choice of dress today already determined that, and Amal also readily admitted, looking at her was pleasing as well.
“Amal, tell the rest of your story,” one of the men asked and of course, Amal was only too glad to oblige.
Jessa chuckled as she heard him again launch into his narration. “Seems you’ve made a friend, sis.” Adam’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts and Jessa found him sitting by the fire as he finished writing in his journal.
She shrugged and sat near Adam, watching as he continued jotting down notes, and making references to another book.
“What are you doing, getting ready for tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yup, you know me, always prepared.” He grinned and finished writing.
Jessa stared at the profile of her brother. He was a handsome man, tall and lean, with sandy blond hair and blue green eyes that had deep laugh lines around them, testifying to his good sense of humor. He took after their mother in looks and temperament, whereas Jessa was her father’s daughter in coloring and personality.
“So, what’s with this trying to find this.... this city of the dead is it?” she asked.
Adam nodded, then reached over to his books and pulled out a smaller one. He came over to her side of the fire and sat down, intently explaining to her again the legend of Hamunaptra.
“Sounds like a lot of nonsense and hokum to me,” Jessa murmured.
“Just think of it Jess, not only will we be rich, but I will earn enough credibility within the archeologist’s community that I can have any job I want...director of any museum I choose. Anywhere I choose.” He gently pulled up Jessa’s cloak around her shoulders in a brotherly gesture. “And you dear heart, can stop being such a tomboy, and finally do what you’ve always wanted to do...”
Jessa contemplated that thought for a moment; it certainly did have an appeal. To continue traveling around the world, see exotic places and foreign lands, that’s what she would love to do. However, Adam’s next comment brought reality back with a crash.
“...find a nice man, get married, have a bunch of kids and settle down in a nice big house.”
“Oh Adam really, I’m in no hurry to get married.” She pushed away from him and got up, pacing around the fire. “Why does everyone want me to be the good little woman, wear dresses and play hostess for boring tea parties?”
“Um, because that’s what you’re supposed to do?” Adam volunteered, cringing at the thought of the up and coming “lecture.” A lecture he had heard time and time again, when Jessa was learning to ride not using a sidesaddle, when she learned how to shoot a pistol, when faced with adversity for doing what she wanted and believed in. Truth be known, he admired her for her spirit.
“Well it’s not.....and you know I’m not like other women, for God’s sake.” Jessa had stopped pacing and was glaring at Adam with her arms folded over her chest.
“Ok, ok I give up.” Adam held up his hands in mock surrender. “Seriously Jess, I just want you to be happy. You deserve it. You deserve to love someone and have them love you back.” Jessa mulled over his statement for a few moments. “And you don’t exactly have a list of suitors waiting for you at home, you know.”
“Oh thanks Adam, thanks for reminding me.” Jessa glared at him, a sore subject with her and her unsuccessful love life. Was it her fault men were usually intimidated or appalled when they saw her true talents with horse and pistol? So far, the only man that hadn’t cringed was Brian.
“You know, I think Brian likes you,” Adam offered, as if reading her mind.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I think he likes you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, maybe the two of you...” Adam stopped mid-sentence. He was really becoming uncomfortable at how Jessa was looking at him like he was a bug, or something she couldn’t quite identify.
“What?” he asked. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You haven’t talked to him or promised him anything, have you?” Jessa’s voice had gone deadly soft, a good indication to Adam that she was close to losing her patience.
“No, no! Oh God no!” Adam put up his hands again in mock surrender. “Jesus, Jessa give me more credit than that! I just thought that you and he.....”
“Well do me a favor and don’t think, ok?” She walked over and poked Adam in the chest, making him sit down again. “That man gives me the creeps. I hate it when he looks at me. I feel nothing for him. He’s your assistant and that’s all he will remain. Have I made myself clear?”
Adam nodded his head quickly. His swift agreement pacified Jesse, and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. She went over to where he was sitting and knelt down, placing her hands over Adam’s.
“I know you’re looking out for me, as you’ve always done. I know you only want what’s good for me, but please understand it has to be what I want as well. Thanks for telling me about Brian; that certainly explains a lot of things.” She patted his hands. “But let’s agree not to talk about any matchmaking for me anymore, ok big brother?” she asked.
Adam smiled as he brushed back a stray curl from Jesse’s face. “Ok baby sister.”
Jessa got up and started walking back to her tent, but turned around and at Adam, a worried frown on her face. “Adam, what if you don’t find any gold, then what will you do?”
Adam pushed his glasses up his nose and thought for a moment. “Then we’ll pack it all in, call it a day, and head home. Sometimes, it’s not what we find in a dig but along the way that counts.” He grinned, pleased at how inspirational that had sounded. He immediately found a small notebook and scribbled some more notes.
Jessa chuckled softly and called out, “Good night, Adam.”
“Good night, Jessa.”
She turned back towards her tent and missed seeing Brian standing in the shadows. If she had seen his face, she would have recoiled in terror. He had overheard the entire conversation and was enraged. While the rich, high and mighty Travers didn’t care about finding any gold or not, he sure as hell did. And he needed to be prepared for tomorrow, changing his plans to ensure that by tomorrow night he would be a wealthy man. As for the Travers woman not wanting him, another blow to his ego but that would all change when he had his fortune.
And once he had his fortune, he would have her, whether she liked it or not. He turned and stormed off to his own tent, missing the shadow of a small man who had been watching him from afar.
Amal kept a wary eye on Brian. For some reason a sixth sense had warned him that a snake’s heart was hidden beneath that facade of a gentleman. He had learned much from these Americans over the past few weeks, and truly he felt that the pretty young Missy was of no threat to anyone. It was the brother and this one that had Amal worried, and he had sent a warning to the Medjai.
While not a Medjai himself, Amal held a deep loyalty to the desert warriors, for they had saved his life countless times over the years. It was a debt of gratitude that Amal saw fit in repaying by reporting on the activities of all those who entered the Sahara, intent on finding Hamunaptra. Just as he had reported weeks ago about this caravan and just as tonight, he had sent word to the Medjai where the camp was located.
He knew a battle was coming and he scurried back to his tent, but not without making some changes to his own plan for survival. With the grace of Allah, he would make sure Jessica Travers survived as well.