| The Sisterhood Of One By V.N. Levitsky |
| Chapter 3 Bethany’s arm stayed frozen where it was. In an overzealous moment, Bethany had thrown caution to the wind and set off the warrior instinct in the Medjai. She could see the small group around her tense up as they awaited her next move. Bethany spoke calmly as her eyes pleaded with Fahd’s. She noted they were not dark brown or black like Ardeth’s or most of the warriors. The camp torches and moonlight showed her that Fahd’s eyes were a strange shade of blue with a bit of light brown around the pupil. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Look now… I’ll move my hand away and you’ll see for yourself. I was reaching for a book that I have tucked into the pocket of my shirt. Look.” She did as she promised, slowly moving her gloved hand away as Fahd approached her and noticed a slender volume jutting out of the pocket of the butter-colored buckskin shirt she wore under her cape. He plucked it out and handed it to Ardeth. Ardeth eyed her vigilantly as he stabbed his scimitar into the sand within easy reach and began to thumb through the small volume. He could see two columns on each page; one side written in English and the other was gibberish to him. Could be Italian or French, Ardeth thought to himself. And, he reminded himself he had heard her speak what sounded like German as well as Spanish. The Medjai’s exposure to treasure seekers had also exposed them to a great number of languages, some easier than others to recognize. The interrogatory tone returned to Ardeth’s voice as he perused the book. “What have you here? Spells? Incantations? Do you plan to freeze us all in place as you did with Imad? Bethany was flustered and hurt by his accusations, but she had to remind herself that she still had not proven herself trustworthy. And her sudden moves just now had probably robbed her of what little progress she had just made with Ardeth and Fahd. “I already explained to you what happened with Imad was not a spell of any kind. His reaction was of someone responding to something frightful by going into shock. The human mind can protect itself at times by shutting itself down.” Ardeth skimmed through the book, stopping at a page. As he read the English, he raised his angry gaze to meet Bethany’s. “And you say that *this* is no spell? This passage reads: ‘She who was cast out will return to reign, her enemies found among conspirators. More than ever will her reign be triumphant. At three and seventy death very sure.’ ” He snapped the volume shut and glared at her. “This speaks of casting out and mentions numbers which are very often used in magic.” Bethany smiled tightly as she tried to explain without letting her aggravation come into her voice. “No, that is *not* what it speaks of. It just so happens that that particular text speaks of Elizabeth I, queen of England.” Ardeth rebutted. “It mentions no one by name.” Bethany carried on with a bit of disdain in her voice. This was dragging on and on! She knew that all this was second nature to her and completely new to the Medjai, but could no long contain her annoyance. Her sensei would be most disappointed in her inability to rein in her moods. So much for cleansing breaths and clearing the mind of negative thoughts! She placed a gloved hand to her forehead in frustration and blurted out, “Oh, for the love of Mercury’s wings! Elizabeth I was most certainly ‘cast out’… not like a demon… but rejected for most of her childhood! She then became victim of conspirators during the reign of her sister, Mary Tudor. While neither Ardeth nor Fahd jumped back, they were somewhat taken aback by Bethany’s outburst. Bethany persisted with her explanation. “As for the line about ‘her reign be triumphant,’ England rose to great heights during the Elizabethan period. And Elizabeth died in her 70th year in 1603.” She took a few steps towards Ardeth and snatched the book back. Quickly turning to the passage that Ardeth had just read, she pointed to one line in particular and displayed it to him. “Most theorists who debate the meanings of Nostradamus’ prophecies often place a comma between the French words ‘trois’ and ‘feptante’ to indicate the first number as the year she died in and the second as her age when she died.” Ardeth contemplated Bethany’s reaction and her response. Allah, she was a feisty one! He had more than a rudimentary knowledge of world history and knew that much of what Bethany said were things he had read about as a child, even if he could not recall the specifics of a certain queen’s age and year of death. Fahd interjected. “Whose prophecy is this? You said Naster-something?” “His name was Nostradamus.” It was Ardeth who spoke. Fahd looked at Ardeth in surprise. Ardeth held out his hand for Bethany to pass the book his way again. Bethany decided to take this as a good omen and handed it back. Ardeth reopened the book and skimmed about. As he let his eyes land on this or that page he asked, “So the other language here besides English is French.” Bethany replied, “Yes, that’s the original language in which Nostradamus wrote. It helps to have the original version to see some of the tricks he employed so as not to make his predictions too transparent. Blatantly writing out his prophecies would have most certainly cost him his own life.” Ardeth stopped at another page. Somehow this piece struck him with a sense of déjà vu. He read it aloud: “For not wanting to consent to the divorce which then afterwards will be recognized as unworthy, the king of the islands will be forced to flee, and no one put in his place who has no sign of kingship.” Ardeth regarded Bethany with a curious look. “This passage brings to mind something that I have heard or read before but I can not place it.” Bethany nodded with a look of astonishment on her face as she realized that the Medjai chieftain was very up-to-date on his current events. She had been given the impression by others that this desert tribe was very far removed from modern concerns due to their ancient oaths to watch over what was hidden under the expansive and seemingly empty desert. Bethany spoke, “That piece speaks of the abdication of Edward VIII in 1936, three years ago.” Ardeth nodded slowly as he recalled reading the news in the British newspapers when he would occasionally go to Cairo. “Ah yes, the king who forsook his kingdom for the love of a woman that his subjects detested.” Bethany concurred. “Precisely. The king’s actions were not popular among his British subjects, who had little love for the already twice-divorced Mrs. Wallis Simpson. So Edward was forced to leave the court *and* England because of his love’s unsuitable social standing. George VI, who was not in line for the kingship, was forced to accede to the British throne.” Ardeth continued browsing the book as he spoke. “I have heard stories about this prophet. And you say that this Nostradamus made predictions about this Hitler utilizing Imhotep in his attempts for dominion over the world?” Bethany shook her head. “No… the predictions only mention Hitler coming to power and creating great chaos, but the quatrains don’t speak of how. This is why we study them, trying to decipher their hidden meaning in the hopes of lessening or hopefully changing the outcome. As I said before, I can show you several instances where Hitler is mentioned and…” Bethany stopped speaking. Even with only moonlight and the torches lit about the camp, she could see that Ardeth’s complexion had paled by whatever passage he was now reading. He muttered, “Maafi mumkin… maafi mumkin haada! [Not possible… this is not possible!] His voice wavered as he read aloud once more: “The royal priest bowing too low, a great flow of blood will come out of his mouth… for a long time dead as a stump of wood…” He looked at Bethany, anger and fear and confusion all swirling within his dark brown eyes. “What is this? Some sort of twisted game?” Bethany sighed with a mixture of relief and anguish… knowing what was coming. “I assure you that this is no game. From your very reaction to that piece of text, I can see that you are thinking the same thing the Sisterhood suspects… that perhaps Nostradamus was trying to convey a warning about Imhotep. Once I show you the other readings involving Hitler, I think you will see my points are valid. The Sisterhood is concerned that Hitler will seek out Imhotep, amongst other things to help him in his seeking of world power.” Ardeth grabbed his scimitar out of the sand and stood to one side as he beckoned Bethany further into the camp. “Come. You will make camp with us. I have many questions about this prophet of yours and this Sisterhood.” Bethany began to walk past Ardeth’s outstretched hand, but stopped short, turning to look over her shoulder. Ardeth saw this and asked, “What is it?” She turned back to gaze at Ardeth. “Do you have a healer here?” “Yes. Old Fazeem is our healer. Why, are you hurt?” “No, I’m not hurt but you should get him and tell him to bring something that has a pungent or bitter scent to wave under Imad’s nose. It might bring him out of his stupor.” Ardeth’s face clouded with confusion for an instant, then recognition struck him. “I see what you mean. Such as the smelling salts that English women are so fond of carrying with them.” “Exactly.” Ardeth called out, “Joshua! Go to old Fazeem’s tent and tell him he’s needed at the camp entrance with his medicine bag.” A young warrior sheathed his scimitar and nodded at Ardeth. “Right away, my chief.” Ardeth dismissed everyone else, except Fahd as they stood with Bethany, awaiting Joshua’s return with old Fazeem. If anyone had told Ardeth Bay when he awoke this morning that he would be faced with a new set of prophecies, from outside the Egyptian culture, that seemed to indicate Imhotep’s coming to power again… he would have told them they had been inhaling camel breath too long. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Sisterhood Of One - Chapter 4 |