Chapter Nine

The sudden change in Constance Adam's mood affected everyone on the dirigible.  Even Izzy seemed to be less than the boisterous man they all knew him as.  Today would be the day that they would arrive at Amarna, but Evy's previous excitement was very missing.  She sat with her husband and her child, wringing her hands together, a frown on her usually light features.

"Did she tell you what was wrong?" asked Rick.

"Uhm," Evelyn glanced up, a faraway look in her eyes.  "Yes.  She had that dream again, that's all."

"Sure," Rick said, hand on her shoulder, "That dream that happened to contain information she is supposed to have no idea about.  You never told her about your visions, did you?"

"No," said Evy.  "No."

"Right.  She didn't know about our adventures, and she comes up with a dream like that.  Fifteen years ago I would-ah said 'hooey' but this is much too weird for me to be comfortable with."

The sounds of Alex chattering away to Izzy in the wheelhouse filled the silence, and Ardeth was with him, making sure he didn't play too close to the edge of the dirigible.  Evy sighed, holding her face in her hands.

"What do you want me to do?  Tell Izzy not to go to El Amarna?"

Rick eyed her steadily.

"Oh come on," Evelyn sighed, "Father discovered Tutankhamen, that wasn't so bad.  No walking mummies, no evil witches out for blood."

"No," Rick said, shrugging lightly, "Just a few people dropping dead here and there and some bad luck."

Evelyn scowled, "That's not helping me Rick."

"Darling, I'm just telling it how it is."

His wife nodded, sinking her head into her folded arms, gazing at her friend still at the prow.  "You should have seen the look in her eyes, when she told me about it," she said, "The dream.  I've never seen her look like that, Rick.  Not even when she talked about her parents dying when she was small."

With a purse of his full lips, Rick wound an arm around Evy.  "Don't worry.  The guys and I will help take care of her."

~~*~~

Time: 2:30 pm
Date: November 16th, 1934

Had that bad dream last night.  The ones with the Egyptians.  Am nearly at Amarna.  Am afraid. Will be back at Hamunaptra in a few days.  Note to self:  Write to Aunt Lila.  She will be worried sick about you.

--Connie.

~~*~~

"Come on fellas!" cried Izzy, clinging perilously to the wheelhouse and the balloon roping. "Help me get this rope back up!"

There had been a terrible snapping noise when it came loose, and since that the balloon had been rippling noisily from that one spot.  Re-attaching the rope wasn't necessary, but the constant rippling of the material was enough to send someone mad.  Rick got to his feet, Ardeth joining him.   A fresh length of rope had been cut for the task of securing the balloon, and Izzy held onto one end.  Rick held onto another.

Ardeth ran his black fabric strip wrapped hands together, waiting for a moment where he could help out.  It came when Izzy began shouting a string of expletives at Rick O'Connell.

"O'Connell, did no one ever bloody teach you how to tie a knot?"

Ardeth looked up at Izzy, casting him a silent look of ill impress.  Swearing in front of ladies wasn't something he particularly approved of.

"What kind of knot do you want then?"

"Oh for God's sakes!"  Izzy motioned Ardeth over.  "Get up 'ere and hold this for a moment will ya?"

Ardeth did as he was asked, climbing the wheelhouse carefully and holding onto the rope.  It was already tied, but he was needed to keep it from tangling with the other ropes, and to keep it nice and taut.   He waited patiently as Rick and Izzy squabbled... well Izzy squabbled, Rick put a hand on a cocked hip and nodded, appeasing the louder man's ills in the process.   His vantage point gave him an unwittingly perfect view of Constance.  She was leaning on the rails of the prow, looking down the side of the ship, presumable watching the lighter ropes slap against the hull.  She looked so sad.  Something about her melancholy air pulled down his heart, bringing worry to it and making his mind wander.

"TAUT!" cried Izzy, "Keep it TAUT I said!"

Constance turned, hearing the outburst, then glanced up to Ardeth.   She gazed at him, light blue eyes holding his effortlessly.  He felt pinned down by that stare, powerless, and he gripped the rope in his hands, holding it up.  She blinked slowly, looking away.  Had she smiled, perhaps he would not have felt so silly standing there, but her placid yet tired expression seemed to tell him nothing of her thoughts.

"Yeah awright," called Izzy, "We're done!!"

Thank the Gods, Ardeth thought darkly.  He looked about himself and his perch that was the wheelhouse.  Carefully, he gripped the roof of it, a metal reinforcement, and if he was careful he could get his foot down to the ledge...

His robe got in the way, somehow ending up underfoot and offering no purchase on the worn smooth wood.  His boot slipped, and he grabbed for a hold of anything.   His one hand gripped the metal reinforcement almost painfully, and as he slid down so his hand slid down the metal's sharp edge.  He hissed as he toppled to the floor.

"Dear me!" gasped Evy, jumping to her feet, "Ardeth!"

Ardeth laid there, a little dazed, hearing footsteps pound the deck as they all ran to help him.  One set was slower than the rest, and its owner gazed down at him with a soft frown.

Evelyn turned, seeing a worried looking Connie next to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.   She looked back down to Ardeth.  "Can you move?"

"I am fine," Ardeth said, pulling himself up to his feet.  As he dusted his robe, heavy thick red drops splattered the deck.  Alex shook his head.

"Then why are you bleeding?"

Ardeth looked to his hands, and one ached sharply.  He held it up, red staining his fingers.  "I must have cut it on the wheelhouse," he said.  Such a stupid mistake really.  He had been wearing his robes all his life, and had climbed plenty of times in them.  Why he had slipped now of all moments...

"Come sit down," Evy said, leading him over to one of the pews.  "There we go.  It's probably just a little cut..."

Ardeth let the woman take his hands.  She sighed, turning them over.

"You're going to have to take these wrappings off.  You stay here; I'm going to get some bandages from the hold."

He nodded, curling his hands closed as his friend's wife moved off.  He'd been so engrossed in berating himself for his clumsiness that he'd not noticed Constance next to him, frowning distantly at his hand.  She glanced up to him.

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head.  "Not much."

She tilted her head, and gently, she slid a hand into his uninjured right one, squeezing it.  She looked back up to him then, and smiled, very slightly.

The steady thumping of Evy's heels on the deck broke the gaze, and Ardeth looked up to the tending woman.

"Right," she said, kneeling in front of him and speaking to him as if he were her injured son, "Give us that hand there..." She frowned. "Ardeth, I thought I told you to take those smelly old wrappings off?"

Ardeth blushed unwittingly, beginning at the knots in the fabric.  "I am sorry," he said, "I forgot."

Glancing to Connie next to him, she smiled.  "That's all right.  You need some help there?"  She grabbed for the knot on his left hand, tugging and pulling at it deftly.  "Well, they certainly taught you Medjai how to tie a good knot, didn't they?"

"I need it to stay on when I am riding," he said.

"Yes well you're not riding now are you?" she said.  She gave one last tug, and the fabric came free.  "Here we go.  It's like unwrapping a Mummy!" Ardeth looked to her, not appreciating the joke. "Fine, don't laugh," sighed Evy.  She hissed as the last of the wrapping came away and the cut was revealed.  It was possibly one eighth of an inch deep, the edges ragged from a blunt slice.  "Ooh, you stay still... I'll clean that bugger out."

Ardeth remembered his worrying about Izzy using foul language in front of the women, and amended that thought.   He had momentarily forgotten he was travelling with Evelyn O'Connell.   He squeezed a hand and hissed as pain stung him.  He glared at what had caused him such agony.  Evelyn was dabbing at the wound with a deep brown-red liquid, and his other hand was grasping onto Connie's tightly.

"Have I hurt you?" he asked her.  She shook her head silently.  He looked back to Evelyn.  "What is that?"

"Iodine," said Evy.  "To clean the wound and stop infection."

She pressed the stained swab of cotton to his skin and smiled.  "Let’s see if this hand is hurt anywhere else huh?"  She turned the hand over, and there was an almighty crash.  Evelyn glanced up, eyes wide in alarm, and she jumped to her feet.

Connie was staggering away, terror blazing in her eyes, her body visibly shuddering and shaking all over.  She'd leapt up, jumped back, knocking over one of the pews in the process as she raced back to the prow of the dirigible.  For a moment, Ardeth thought maybe he heard her sob softly.   He got to his feet, stepped forward, but Connie shook more.

"No!" she cried, tears roughing her voice, "No!"

Evelyn raced to the woman's side, confusion on her face.  "Connie!"

"It was him!" she sobbed, arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her features, "It was him!"

Ardeth felt a heaviness in him, and he was afraid... somehow, something within him knew what she was going to say.  He knew that she was going to say something that would break his heart, that would give him a feeling of utter grief like none he'd known.

"He did it!" she said, her shuddering creating a waver in her voice, "He killed me!"

Evelyn frowned, bewildered. "Connie!  Calm down!"  Connie refused to be calm.  It was as if she were more an animal terrified than a human.  "What makes you think he killed you?"

It was all nonsense to Ardeth.  Him?  Kill?  Perhaps this had something to do with the dream the O'Connells had mentioned briefly.

She pointed to Ardeth with a trembling finger, and following it Evelyn's gaze was led directly to the tattoo on the top of the warrior's hand.  It was dark, almost black, and it was like the letter 'E', the prongs pointed and consecutively longer and slender.

"It was his voice that said the word," she said, "It - it was him that brought the sword down!"

After a quiet moment, Connie fell to Evelyn's shoulder, sobbing softly.  Ardeth felt strangely numb, and he turned away, no words on his tongue, just that grief he'd feared hanging in his heart.

~~*~~

Evelyn didn't know what to do.  Connie had taken a nap, leaning against Jonathan for security in her vertigo problems.   Jonathan had shrugged sadly at Ardeth, knowing how long it had taken to calm Connie down and how she wouldn't even look at the Medjai warrior now.  It seemed to be an instinctual reaction, something so deep and primal that it dominated her every thought and behaviour.  Evelyn kept an eye on Ardeth also.    He gazed moodily over the edge of the dirigible, a definite pout in his lips and a distracted air to him.

Through all of this, the word 'Ramla' echoed in her mind.  There was something very familiar about it, something that brought about an ache, a great grieving.  Strangely, it also brought great affection, but maybe that was a mingling worry for her dearest of friends.

The warm touch of her husband’s hands wound around her waist, and Evy turned to look at him.

"You okay?" he asked her, tilting up his brows.  His wife leant against him, leaning her head back on his chest, hands clasping the prow of the vessel and sighing.

"I'm fine," she said.  "It's Connie and Ardeth I'm worried about."

Rick turned his head and glanced at the Medjai a moment, then back to his wife.  "Ardeth?"

Evy looked to Rick and gave an exasperated huff.  "Rick, don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

Rick just gave her a dull look. "Noticed what?"

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Evelyn smiled wearily, "You don't think that Ardeth is that upset over missing his bird still, do you?"

"Oh," Rick looked back, "I was figuring it was hurt pride or something."  Rick twitched his lips meekly, looking a little embarrassed.  Evelyn gave a worn smile and stroked his arms around her.  Her husband was brave, a fantastic father, a talented explorer, and quite the strategic thinker, but obviously when it came to human relations he was as thick as two wet planks laid end on end.  "So you think he uh... you know... Connie, um..."

"Yes, dear," Evelyn said, her brows knitted together.  "It's best for you to keep being vague and pretend you never noticed for now."

Rick frowned. "No need to be insulting."

"Why?  What happened to your sense of humour?" she quipped, smiling at Rick and kissing him briefly.  This seemed to placate the man, and he hugged her a little tighter.  The humour waned, the sadness of the vessel seeping in around her once more.  The dream, its description, felt all too familiar.  If only she could fall into one of her trances, to check back through her old memories and make sure... make sure that Seti had never executed a servant for conspiring against him, during the years of Nefertiri's youthful adulthood.  Trance... trance?  Psychic mediums supposedly went into trances... She glanced back to Connie sleeping soundly in Jonathan's lap.

"Evy?"

"Rick, I have to try to remember, I have to know."

"Know what?"  He gazed in her eyes for a moment and it became all too clear.  "Hon, are you sure you want to go delving into those memories?"

"You heard her dream," Evy said.  "She obviously had no idea Medjai had those tattoos on their hands.  And she didn't know about my visions, yet she described them exactly.   She even mentioned Imhotep and Anck-Su-Namun - prior to my telling of the rising mummies.  What does that tell you, Rick?"

Rick shifted uncomfortably.  "I don't want to think about what it tells me," he said. "I've had enough of thinking about the Ancient Egyptian courts altogether, in fact."

"It's all linked," Evy said softly, her eyes wide in wonder.  "Me, Connie, Ardeth... even you!  I bet you if I thought back, you'll be there somewhere!"

Rick didn't say anything.  He leant his face against her hair, not wanting to hear about this anymore.  It had brought him enough pain.  So he was supposedly a Medjai - he wasn't even Egyptian or Arabian damn it!  All he did was get orphaned in the wrong place at the wrong time and had a stupid tattoo slapped on his hand because he happened to be good at bashing the crap out of other people and had brains as well.  Okay, so he had an uncanny ability for getting around ancient tombs, but he didn't want to entertain any grand notions because of that fact.  Evy stood in his arms quietly, her eyes gleaming with that spark of inspiration, that he knew meant her mind was spinning with possibilities and extremes.  The woman, despite her experiences, was insatiably curious, and that scared him more than anything else he could think of.  He glanced back to the other passengers in the dirigible - to his son Alex in particular.  The boy was sitting next to his uncle, fiddling with his slingshot.  He was bigger, bigger than he used to be.   This fact made him happy, and hopefully he'd grow strong and safe, despite his mother's dangerous choice in career.

Sometimes he thought it was his life purpose, to make sure that this happened.  Other times he knew it was, with no doubt in his mind at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello From Sunny Hamunaptra – Chapter 10