Chapter Eleven

Izzy turned the wheel furiously, working the dirigible in its last descent.   Ardeth walked past him, the happy song from the dark man's whistling jarring with the trouble in his heart.  He rounded the wheelhouse, and upon sitting at one of the crates a single name carried in the wind...

"...Ramla..."

He turned, startled, glaring at the prow of the dirigible.  There sat Evelyn and Constance, Rick consoling his wife, both of the women looking grief-stricken.  His mind whirled, wondering what could have happened whilst he had secluded himself, wondering if it was him they were so sad about.  He killed me... the words pounded his soul.  The name he'd caught was not unfamiliar.  It was an echo in his mind that lasted so many years of his life, of a nightmare that he couldn't bear to think of.

He closed his eyes, fighting not to see it.   Fighting not to see the fair hair cascade either side of the equally fair and silky neck, the blade in his hands falling against his heart's wishes, his soul crying out as it flew easily through the flesh and sent a spurt of fresh warm blood against his own body.  During all of this, he could hear his mind repeat the name, over and over.

Ramla.

"Siddown folks!" cried Izzy, breaking Ardeth from his deep thought, "We're about to land!"

Ardeth didn't know what to do with himself and in a mad leap he sat down next to Alex, sighing fitfully.  Alex glanced up to him, raising a brow in question, to which Ardeth replied with a worn frown.

Evy, Rick and Connie approached the wheelhouse, sitting around on the crates and holding onto the side of the ship as it swept down majestically.

"Let's hope this is a better landing than the last time," Rick quipped.

"Swear to God, O'Connell," Izzy said, "One more word from you and you'll get this steering wheel jammed fair up your arse."

Connie grappled the wood of the dirigible underneath her, clenching her eyes shut.  Evy frowned.

"Connie?"

"Oh God I think I'm going to be sick..."

"No, no, no!" cried Izzy, "Not in my bloody dirigible you don't!"

"Oh shut up Izzy!" snapped Evy.  She took Connie's hands, and as she did so Ardeth stepped forward without thinking, arms outstretched to help the nauseated woman.

"SIDDOWN!" Izzy yelped, piloting the ship with dedication.  "Gawd help me!  Do you WANT to fall out of this ship or what?"

Connie cowered from the worried Medjai, her eyes wide with alarm.  He sank back, melancholy encompassing him again.  The ship began to slow finally, and with a gentle pause, almost a sigh, it settled on the ground with a heavy thump.  Connie glanced around her, and with a scrabbling stagger she made for the rope ladder, practically tumbling out of the vessel and racing into the dunes.

"What the hell is she doing?" Izzy said.

"Being sick!" Evy said, jumping up after her.

"She will get lost," Ardeth said, leaping to his feet also, "Do not let her run too far!"

Evy nodded, crawling down the side of the dirigible and following the pits Connie's steps had made in the sand.

Connie ran, and once over the first dune she collapsed to her knees, letting her stomach lurch and knot, retching as her breakfast came back up again.  She coughed, spluttered, tears in her eyes.  She hated heights, she hated heights.  This thought became a mantra as she vomited, blaming the vertigo for the loss of her stomach contents and not the whirlwind of grief that had claimed her so suddenly.  She sniffled, coughing the last of her retches away, cupping her hands and scooping the sand over her mess.

"Connie?"

She glanced back at Evelyn, then to the sand in front of her.  "I'm sorry," she said, "I hope you can understand that I find this all a little bit overwhelming."

"I do," Evy said, sitting next to her.  She sighed a little, stroking Connie's hair back from her face whilst the woman composed herself.  "You know Ardeth is worried sick about you."

Connie glanced away, grabbing a handful of sand and watching it as it poured from her fingers in a silky trail back to the ground.  "I can feel that hand, Evy, as it has hold of my arm and doesn't let me free.  I can see its shadow, gripping that sword like it was the only thing that mattered."

Evy took Connie by the shoulders, meeting her eyes firmly.  "I had that memory too, and I saw that hand shaking, Connie.  I saw him crying.  Right now he's over there, very confused because you're treating him like a monster."

"What am I supposed to do?" Connie sobbed suddenly, fear gripping her.  "He frightens me!  I can't see those awful tattoos without feeling what it was like to be pushed to the ground and killed like an errant farm animal!"

"Just..."  Evelyn sighed.  "Just look into his eyes, Connie.  Know his heart."

For a reason she couldn't fathom, the very thought terrified her beyond reason.  She didn't get to muse on it for very long, as swift steps trudged up the dune behind her, the unmistakable sound of robes fluttering in a breeze accompanying them.   She embraced herself, closing her eyes, trying to calm herself as his voice hit her.

"Elham leallah," he breathed, slowing to a stop once he reached them.  "Constance, you should never run blindly into the desert without knowing where you are," he said.  "There are many dangers."   The thought of her stumbling into quicksand gave him a cold chill, and the fact that she was sitting there perfectly safe gave him untold comfort.

Evy looked around herself, patting her knees.  "Well - I better get Rick and Jonathan to unload the dirigible.  You'll take care of Connie whilst I see to that, won't you Ardeth?"

Connie felt a sinking in her chest, and she stopped herself from glaring at Evelyn.  That sneak, she thought, that clever little sneak!  Evy patted the Medjai on the shoulder and then smiled at Connie before starting back for the dirigible.

Silence fell between the Medjai and the woman.   Connie coughed, looking away, and she crawled along the dune very deliberately, away from Ardeth.   He glanced to her, hurt in his eyes, and she could see it clearly.  She pursed her lips.

"I was sick there," she said.  "I doubt you'll want to accidentally step in it."

He looked down at the sand in front of him, and then to her, and nodded, following her.   He sat down next to her, somewhat awkwardly.   "I trust you are feeling better?"

She shrugged, sitting back down onto the dune, pulling a lock of her hair behind her ear.  "Depends on your definition of better.  If you mean better as in 'Do I feel as good as before this ride on the dirigible?' then no, I do not, Mr. Bay.  However, if you mean, 'Do I feel better than I did during my mental breakdown?', then yes, I'm feeling slightly improved."

She saw him look down at his hand that was bare of any wrappings, a drawn sadness in his features, and she realised she may as well have kicked him in the head.  He sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees, gazing out into the desert.

"I believe we need to talk," he said, "About Ramla."

Connie held in a whimper, looking away.  She didn't want to talk about Ramla and she didn't want to talk to him.  She was tired, emotionally drained, in a numbness that she couldn't shake.  She sighed doggedly, meeting his eyes with her own half-lidded blue ones.  "I don't want to talk about her, Ardeth.  I just want to stop hurting, just for a moment."

Ardeth frowned, a thoughtfulness etched in his brow.  "I wish this as much as you," he said, "But peace is never reached by evading the reason for our pains."

He watched her sag, her hair dangling down.  When she'd first arrived here, there were curls in her hair, tight neat curls that sat in place.  Her face had been lightly done with make-up, her lips a sweet ruby red.   At that station she'd seemed in a bubble, unreachable, a vision of perfection in all her modern western glory.  Now her clothes were thick with dust and grime, her hair soft and straight, her curls long lost from lack of styling.  There was no make-up on her, but as she turned her face up from gazing down at the sand, a distant recognition burned within him.

The light measured steps echoed in the hall, her feet shod in simple leather strands.   The fabric that clothed her body was white and plain, the silver that adorned her skin uncomplicated.   Her pale flaxen hair was cut severely in the style of the people she lived with now.   She looked down at her feet as she walked, meek and homely.   This once, this blessed once, she looked up to meet his gaze as she approached the doorway.

Her blue eyes, like the sky, outlined in shocking black kohl, were as jewels.   His heart knew she had no home, no security.  She was a fragmented soul, reaching out roots so they would take hold here in Egypt.

How he wished he could have helped her settle them.  However, it was not his place.  She was a servant, he was a Medjai.   He opened the door, savouring the moment her eyes had met his, and moved through the motions that were his duty to his Pharaoh.

Eyes.... blue eyes....

Her head rolled away from her body, and as it did his victim's face was revealed to him...  such clear blue eyes now dead. 

His breath hitched and he covered his face, feeling his body tremble uncontrollably.  Merciful Allah... it was her!  It was Constance!   He felt ill, truly ill, head spinning as he tried to consolidate his old childhood nightmares to the reality of the woman in front of him.  He killed me!  She was right, she was right.  He had killed her!  He made efforts to focus his mind, to think that she was here now, alive now, next to him.  That way lead madness...  that way he wanted to embrace her, hold her close and thank the heavens she had been returned but - in all practicality she was only known to him a few days, and in those terrible visions she was known to him even more distantly.   He had a sudden understanding of the woman in front of him, and her coolness, her efforts in sophistication and her pride in her modern ways... it was all so clear to him now.

"Your nightmare," he said, "Is my nightmare.  I am very sorry, Miss Adams, that you have come to know it."

She frowned, lips pursed.  “I don’t… I don’t understand…”

“I have known, since meeting them, that the O’Connell’s history is entwined with the history of my people.  We do not believe in reincarnation, but sometimes you must look at something and see it for what it is.”  Connie’s frown hadn’t lessened and she still looked confused.  “I once had dreams, when I was very small.  A nightmare.  In my hands was a sword and at my feet the head of a beautiful woman.”

“A nightmare,” she echoed.

“My worst,” he said.  “I knew it would be a terrible day whenever I had it.” She dared to look up at him, to meet his eyes, and as she did so a warm bittersweet ache splashed through her chest.  Ardeth shook his head, his breath hitching as he spoke. "I did not want to kill you."

She closed her eyes, burying her face in her hands and sighing.  She felt the threatening tears spill down her face, and a warm long hand curled around her shoulder.  For a long moment she let herself weep, expressing the agony she'd pent up for the past hours, Ardeth's gentle touch consoling her.  Through tearful eyes she looked at his hands.  So slender and yet strong.  They looked out of place, peeking from the dark silver-rimmed sleeves of the tall and wide-shouldered man before her, and yet, thinking of that pain he bore, of the way he was with Evy and her family, at what he dedicated his life to, they suddenly fell into context.  Tentatively, she reached out for his uninjured right hand, sliding her fingers amongst his, lifting it up and gazing at the tattoo.

"I kept seeing this, your hand," she said, gazing at it closely, recovering from her tears.  It was a little calloused from his hardened lifestyle, but it was mostly smooth, and it was warm.  "The thing that kept clinging to my mind, though..." She glanced up to meet his brown pools, "Was your voice."  She leant her cheek against his hand, running it against his flesh very briefly, her eyes closing only a moment.  "It sounded as if... as if your soul was dying."

Tears rimmed his eyes, his heart sighing at the sound of her voice, at the words she spoke.   He opened his mouth...

"Ardeth!  Connie!!"

Ardeth sprang to his feet, gazing beyond the dirigible.  He motioned Connie to follow him and he ran down the dune towards the sound of Evelyn's call.  "Follow me," he said. "Stay close."

Upon making their way around the dirigible they noticed that the ground dropped away.  They had landed on a dune, and before them the sand had been blown away, as if bitten out of the earth, crumbling walls and eroded sculptures poking up out of the hollow in the ground with a tired antiquity. Despite age wearing down their majesty, it did not take away from the spectacle before them.    Worn, tumbled down and decrepit though they were, tall pylons reached up out of the earth like broken teeth, columns and solid buildings stretching behind them, down a long open thoroughfare.

Evelyn was poking at a more erect looking pillar just nearby, grinning from ear to ear.   She scrabbled at her tool leather, blabbering away at her husband behind her.

"Oh my God, Rick, just take a LOOK at these carvings!  Why they're nothing like your classic Egyptian relief.  Look at that style!  Look at the length of the fingers... the realism in those faces!"

Connie frowned, absently gripping at Ardeth's sleeve.  "I don't have a good feeling about this..."

"Are your feelings usually correct?"

She eyed him, and Ardeth nodded. "I see.  We must stop her before she upsets any curses."

Connie smiled, following Ardeth down the sand dune.   He carefully leapt down a steep dip in the sand, and turning he offered his arms up to Constance.  With a blush, she let her hands meet his a moment before settling in the dip between his shoulders and neck.  His strength lifted her easily, her vertigo rushing in her chest a moment as he set her down.  It was a strange swooping sensation, augmented by knowing it was this man's strength that supported her for a brief moment, his will keeping her from falling.

She shook the warmness from her limbs and continued her way over to Evelyn, who swept a brush over ages old hieroglyphs, sand falling away at her touch.

"This is incredible," she breathed, fingers skidding over deeply carved hieroglyphs.  "This speaks of the benevolent Sun God... by the name of...  Aten."

She barely noticed it at first.  A deep shift in the sand, the lowest and most imperceptible of rumbles.    Suddenly, sand threw itself about from the ground, and a gust of wind swept past them.   Rick spun about, pulling out a revolver, Ardeth just as quick with his scimitar.  Jonathan just sort of spasmed on the spot, Alex hiding behind him.   Evelyn glanced about herself, a disconcerted frown in her brow.

"Okay..."  She gulped, "I don't like it when things do that..."

"Me either," Rick said in a harried tone, eyes scanning the ruins around them.

Evelyn cleared her throat, pulling a lock of hair from her face.  "Perhaps it's just a warning," she said. "I'll make sure not to open any caskets or utilize any keys without reading their labels first, I promise..."  Her voice drifted off as her eyes settled on a wall further away, a grand carving stretching out on it.   It was the sun, with its rays shining forth, each one of them ending in little yellow hands clasping ankhs... life.  It said the sun gave life, without spelling out a word.

Connie stepped back from the towering yet crumbling pillars that seemed to herald an entrance.  She eyed the decaying monoliths warily before turning away.  She stopped as her turn faced her to Ardeth behind her and she batted her eyelids softly.

"There is something wrong, Miss Adams?"

Connie shrugged then looked back to Evy.  "Something feels very wrong to me."

Ardeth's gaze at her grew more intense.  "In what way?"

She felt a little shaken by his sudden attention, and she shrugged.  "There's something we should know... something we need to see..."

Ardeth's brow creased a moment as he pressed his lips together, then putting his hand at her back he guided her over to where Rick, Jonathan and Alex stood.  "Evelyn!"

Evy turned, a brow tilted up in enquiry.  Upon seeing Ardeth's dour expression she came back over to them.

"Yes? What is it?"

Ardeth looked pointedly to Constance then, who shifted awkwardly at the sudden attention.

"I have a feeling," said Connie, "That... that we should - we need to - to read something."  She frowned, closing her eyes, hands cradling her forehead.  "God, I wish it were clearer, what I need to say... to you."

Evelyn's face grew lax with confusion.   Connie looked around her, and then back to the pillars.  Those damn pillars.   Her eyes traced their broken tips, down their aged and broken lengths, and upon the heaped sand at their bases, her being lurched.

"There," she said, pointing suddenly.  "What you need to know is there, under the sand."

Evelyn looked to the base of the pillars, then back to Connie.  "Under it?"

Connie nodded.  "I - there's nothing clearer than that, Evy."

"Right, well," Evelyn propped her hands on her hips, looking to the base of the pillars.  "Hmm... may as well get started.  Here's as good as anywhere."  She turned about.  "Boys..."  She poked her finger in the sand between the pillars and drew a big 'x'.  "X marks the spot.  Get those shovels out!  I'm going to have a quick look around."

Jonathan echoed Evelyn's posture and nodded, turning away.  "Yes, yes... I'll just supervise-"  A shovel was suddenly underneath his nose, and as he looked up, he met the unimpressed eyes of his brother in law.  Rick smiled thinly.

"Get digging, Jonathan."

Jonathan groaned a little, rolling his head back before making his way over to the base of the pillars.  "Great.  Remind me why I'm here again?"

Alex gripped his shovel and smiled back at him, with a dry expression eerily like his father's.  "You really need me to say it?"

After a beat, the both of them muttered.  "Treasure."

Ardeth took a shovel, treading to the bank of sand that buried the base of the pillars.   He started digging, seeing other shovels bite portions out of the dry sand.   One shovel, dig dig, two shovel, dig dig, three, four, five shovels.  Dig dig - Five shovels?  Four men, five shovels?  He glanced up.

Next to him Connie dug, her brow a little dented in concentration.  He looked down at her shovel, then back to her, then down at the shovel again.   She looked up at him, cocking a brow.  "You don't seem to be digging, Mr. Bay."

Ardeth shook his head a little, and shrugged.  "I think perhaps it would be better if you helped Evelyn with her findings."

Connie chuckled.  "I sincerely doubt that Evy, with all her expertise, needs help from the likes of me.  I'm only a Cultural Historian after all."

Ardeth pressed his lips together, brow ticking.  "Nonetheless," he said, "You need not exert yourself here when there are already four of us digging."

Connie's brow cocked up, mirroring Ardeth's, and she slowly stood upright.  Jonathan and Rick both glanced up, their ears pricking at the tones growing firmer.  The blonde woman planted a hand on her hip, the other leaning on the shovel.  "I think you mean four men, don't you Mr. Bay?"

The Medjai seemed to pale a bit but he nodded.  "Very well, if you want to put it like that-"

"Oh no," groaned Jonathan.

"Not the right thing to say, Ardeth..." said Rick in a low tone.

"No," Connie said, other hand meeting her hips, "I'd say not!"

Ardeth sighed, looking down to the shovel in his hands then back up to Constance.  "Please, Miss Adams, it is not a reflection on your ability-"

"Pray tell what is it a reflection on then?" she said, eyes wide in question.

He eyed her firmly.  "You have been sick, suffering from vertigo and heat exhaustion only days before.  I only thought that you could use a rest."

The protesting look on Connie's face fell away.  "Oh."

Alex tilted his head, scratching behind his ear in bemusement.  He looked up to his father, who shrugged once and got back to digging, Jonathan following suit.

"I dunno," he muttered, "Women!"

Connie glowered at the man before glancing to Ardeth.  "Thank you, Mr. Bay, but I'll be fine."  She struck the sand with her shovel, continuing to dig.  With a resigned sigh, Ardeth got to digging himself.  There was a moment of silence as the small group dug away at the dry pile of sand.  A trudging sound came from behind them, a sniffling, and an impressed hum.

"Digging."

Connie looked behind her.   Izzy stood there, hands on hips, nodding sagely.

"Yes Izzy," O'Connell said doggedly, his voice hitched with his movements as he hefted loads of sand.

"Right." He nodded and turned away.  "Have fun.  I'll be in the dirigible if ya need me."

"Fun!" huffed Connie.  "Yes!  Fun!"

Ardeth looked to her, "You do not need to do this if you-"

"Oh don't you start!" she muttered, eyeing him. "Honestly.  You'd think you'd not want me here!"

"You are getting red in the cheeks-"

She stood up, leaning on her shovel and growling at him in a low tone. "My dear Mr. Bay, it is quite normal for a woman of my complexion to attain a slight blush when exerting herself.  If you'd let me dig for more than five minutes, you may even get to see me sweat!"

Rick and Jonathan both turned away suddenly, coughing and digging further away.

Ardeth sighed a harried sigh, digging a little more furiously.  "Again you misinterpret my intent!"

"Oh?  Is that so?"

"You have already proved yourself susceptible to the heat, Miss Adams-"

Connie huffed.  "Yes well, I think I've gotten used to it by now!"  She stabbed the sand with her shovel.

"Ah."  Ardeth nodded.  "You are going to keep testing your limits until you pass out yet again!"

"Heaven forbid you'd have to undress her again," Alex smirked.

Rick's head popped up over his shoulder and he glared at his son.  "Alex!"

Alex looked away contritely.  "Sorry."

Rick shot an apologetic look to Connie.  "He's got his mother's mouth," he shrugged, "You know."

Connie nodded a little bewilderedly before getting back into her digging.  "One would have to wonder if you'd ever seen a woman sweat before, Mr. Bay!"

Ardeth paused a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what Connie had just said, and sighed, continuing to dig.  "What are you insinuating Miss Adams?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said with a non-committal shrug, "Maybe perhaps that you don't know what a woman is capable of!"

This seemed to disgruntle the calm peaceful exterior of the Medjai warrior, who stood upright and glared death at the blonde woman next to him.  "Miss Adams, you are an ignorant woman!"

Connie stood upright to meet his glare, though it was some inches above her, and the sight of those dark brown eyes so enraged shook her a little.  "I beg your pardon?!"

"You know nothing of me and my people!" he said, "You make assumptions of me because I am concerned for your well being!"

"I only know of experience, Mr. Bay," Connie said, hefting her shovel angrily, "And every other man I've ever known would tell me not to dig!"

Ardeth's eyes seemed to turn to fire.  "So?!  In these conditions, I wish you to help Evelyn!"

Connie glared at him from head to toe and threw down her shovel.  "Well in these conditions I wish you would go to HELL!"

It was all too much for the Medjai.  He threw down his shovel and then threw up his arms.  "Fine Miss Adams!  I shall see what I can DO!"

"OUGH!"  Connie spun and stormed off towards Evelyn, and Ardeth spun and strode towards the dirigible.

Alex, Jonathan and Rick stood there, shovels in mid air, jaws dangling at the spectacle before them.  Alex looked to his father, who seemed to be just as bewildered as his son was.   Jonathan shook his head.

"Ah," He huffed, digging once more, "This sort of thing always ends in tears or inappropriate love-making."

Rick frowned at Jonathan.  "Hey - Alex is here listening."

Alex rolled his eyes, digging again.  "Like you and Mum don't drown me in enough gooey love stuff to last me a lifetime."

"He's got a point," said Jonathan.

Rick sighed.  "Yeah, yeah, just shut up and dig."

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Hello From Sunny Hamunaptra – Chapter 12