| The Sisterhood Of One By V.N. Levitsky |
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Chapter 8 Ardeth carried her to her teepee, kicking the draped entrance of buckskin to one side to allow for some light to come in from the campfire outside. He placed her gently on her bedroll. He brushed aside a wisp of white hair from her sweaty forehead. She seemed to her exerted herself greatly in her attempt at freeing Cheb. Ardeth gazed upon her with wonder. He would never grow accustomed to the amazing feats he had seen. He placed his hand on her forehead and noted with alarm that she was very warm to his touch. He rose up, leaving the teepee in search of something to make a cool compress for her. He went to the supply tent and gathered a water canteen and a roll of bandages. Re-entering Bethany’s teepee again, he noted she hadn’t stirred. He quickly soaked and unrolled the bandage, layering it across her forehead. He checked the pulse in her wrist and was glad to feel it beating strong. He stroked the soft underside of her arm, gazing at the tattoos that swirled up and down the length of her arm. As Ardeth kept watch over Bethany, he remembered her leather-bound notebooks. He recalled that she had all sorts of notations. He recalled showing Joshua a page where she had jotted down a useful poultice for wounds, suggesting he try it the next time a warrior was cut or shot, since it helped heal the wound and fight fever. He somewhat self-consciously sorted through her saddlebag, feeling a bit like a thief in the night, though he argued with himself he was doing this to help her. She apparently had several notebooks all bound similarly in leather. One was the notes pertaining to Nostrodamus which he had already read some of. Another appeared to be a scholarly listing of many various things. Titles of books with their authors, diagrams of what could be hieroglyphics and other languages. This one looked be the one that Bethany had shown Joshua, as there was an entire section that showed recipes, formulas and instructions for many things. For teas, compounds, mixtures and other healing type methods with the use of herbs and such. He set this one aside to look at more thoroughly in the hopes he could find something to rouse her from the slumber she’d succumbed to after freeing Cheb. There was one more book. This seemed to be almost a journal. He debated whether or not he should read it, considering he had probably already found what he sought. Yet his curiosity arose and he could not quash it. He skimmed through it and noted that much that was written here appeared to be poems. Ardeth noted that while all the books contained the same handwriting, which he assumed was Bethany’s. However the other books contained a much more clearly controlled penmanship, while this one showed a more elegant and passionate hand. His gaze caught the phrase ‘golden eyes’ and began reading: Greater Cats “The greater cats with golden eyes Stare out between the bars. Deserts are there, and different skies, And night with different stars. They prowl the aromatic hill, And mate as fiercely as they kill And hold the freedom of their will To roam, to live, to drink their fill; But this beyond their wit know I: Man loves a little, and for long shall die. Their kind across the desert range Where tulips spring from stones, Not knowing they will suffer change Or vultures pick their bones. Their strength's eternal in their sight, They rule the terror of the night, They overtake the deer in flight, And in their arrogance they smite; But I am sage, if they are strong: Man's love is transient as his death is long. Yet oh what powers to deceive! My wit is turned to faith, And at this moment I believe In love, and scout at death. I came from nowhere, and shall be Strong, steadfast, swift, eternally: I am a lion, a stone, a tree, And as the Polar star in me Is fixed my constant heart on thee. Ah, may I stay forever blind With lions, tigers, leopards, and their kind. Vita Sackville-West” Ardeth was intrigued by the poem. He wondered what it was that had appealed or struck Bethany about it that she would write it down – though the poem did force him to revisit his first thoughts of Bethany when her eyes reminded him of the tiger he’d seen as a child. He turned the pages and saw the next poem: Soul Child Like fallin rain The days go by Can't kill the pain and you wonder why Be strong Hold on A lot of love to go around Stay wild Soul child Don't you let them bring you down It's like a dream Wake me up when it's over Somewhere in between Enemy and lover Walk proud Sing out loud It always hurts to wonder why One more mile My soul child You'll never know until you try It had no author at the bottom. Was it anonymous, he wondered. Or could she have written this herself? Something told him it had to be her own words. Be Tween I’m no whore and I’m no Madonna But something more Something in between I am not one or the other It’s just not that simple Blur the edge or sharpen the blade You can not split me in two I will not allow you to You don’t have my permission To simplify me to ease your own mind I'm between good and bad I'm between the last and the first I’m between come and go Between the one that says “yes” and the one that says “no” And I don’t mean “maybe” And I shall always Be Tween Strip me down To my very essence And you will see That there’s no one else in here But lil ol’ me Just know that I am an army of one Yes, you will argue That I am a sum of many parts Of my ma and pa And my exposure to the arts Hear me hummmm… Like a well-oiled machine doing its thing Like a kitten getting its tummy rubbed Like the universe around us Like Mother Earth lullabying you to sleep I'm between right and wrong I'm between weak and strong And I shall always Be Tween I like it here Not all the time But if it gives you a harder time To label and fit me Into your idea of What and where I should Well then… any trouble that I must suffer Is well worth it For I don’t like things the way you do All simple and sanitary I don’t mind grit and I don’t mind grief I don’t get fazed by having to deal with the rough stuff The saying is “what does not kill me makes me stronger” You love only purity and simplicity Everything must be spic ‘n span You will die from your lack of exposure to the real While I shall last because I built up my immunity You don’t want to get your hands dirty God forbid you ruin the crease in your slacks And I shall always Be Tween He noted that this piece as well had no credit to it. Something told Ardeth these were definitely her words. Lyrical yet feisty, stilted yet fluid, very much like her. He then noticed some loose pages that had been inserted towards the back along with a pen. It appeared to be a work in progress, with numerous lines crossed out and written over. Harken as the breeze gusts from across the wide distance Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide Sounds confined in wanting, recollections restrained by time voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time the night is my companion, and solitude my guide would I spend forever here and not be satisfied? Through this world I've stumbled, so many times betrayed trying to find an honest word to find the truth enslaved oh you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes my body aches to breathe your breath your words keep me alive Into this night I wander, it's morning that I dread another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread oh into the sea of waking dreams I follow without pride nothing stands between us here and I won't be denied and I would be the one to hold you down kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away and after, I'd wipe away the tears just close your eyes... He replaced the pages and checked on her again. She wasn’t shivering, so he had to assume that she would be fine, just as she had foretold him. Ardeth stood up and headed out of the teepee, making a mental note to check on Bethany’s condition in a little while. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ardeth wandered about the camp for about an hour or so, checking on things. As he walked about, talking with a warrior or seeing that the stables were being properly maintained, he caught sight of Bethany’s teepee. His eyes widened in horror at what he saw. There was light smoke escaping from the gap at the top of the teepee! The door flap that he had kicked open when he carried her in a short while ago had dropped back down over the entrance! He broke into a run towards to the teepee, dodging warriors here and there, yelling loudly as he prepared to wrench away the buckskin. “Bethany! Bethany! Are you all right?” “Sure I am. Come on in.” He stopped short, mystified by the calm in her voice. He pulled at the draped end of the buckskin and stepped in. He immediately noticed that Bethany had dug a hole in the sand and placed wood in it and had begun a small fire. She was sitting up on her bedroll. He said in a relieved tone, “By the grace of Allah! I thought something was wrong! I saw smoke coming from here.” She smiled weakly, “Yes, I imagine that would look odd. You only burn oil in lamps since your tents are made of fabric. I have a small kerosene lamp, but I prefer a natural fire.” She noted the tone in his voice and remembered concern in his eyes when she collapsed after freeing Cheb. She blushed slightly as she recalled her slip of the tongue. Deciding on a less personal angle, she spoke softly, “I’m sorry if you were frightened. I know that with fabric tents one has to be very cautious… a burning ember from a fire could turn the entire camp into a tinderbox.” Ardeth spoke almost sheepishly, “I am actually quite relieved that you are safe.” Noticing a familiar scent in the air and wishing to change the subject, he asked “What is that smell? It reminds me of sandalwood.” Bethany pointed into the fire. “It’s a mixture of herbs that I use to help rid me of headaches. After that stunt with Cheb, my head felt like it was going to split open.” “How are you feeling now?” “Much better, thanks. And thank you for trusting me with Cheb. I don’t imagine that was easy… letting yourself trust me like that.” Ardeth debated with himself whether or not to raise the entire subject of *how* Bethany saved Cheb, but decided to wait for now. “It is I who should be thanking you.” “Did you put the wet bandages on my forehead?” “Yes, you seemed a bit feverish and I thought it might help.” “It did. I’ll have to remember that in the future. Usually I feel much worse after doing something of that nature.” Ardeth looked around the teepee, fighting the urge to attack her with a barrage of questions about these abilities of hers. He really hadn’t bothered to look around before, his concern for Bethany’s fever and the lack of light at the time giving him a bit of tunnel vision. It was quite spartan, like the tents of the Med-jai. He noticed that her saddlebags rested atop of a couple of blankets. She traveled quite light and but yet seemed to carry the essentials. As he raised his gaze upwards above the fire pit, he stepped back and shouted, “Sons of the Pharaohs! What is that?!” Bethany looked up suddenly from where she rested on her bedroll. When she saw where Ardeth was looking, she giggled. “Oh, that… that’s just Sheila.” He drawled out the name, “Shee… lah?” “Yes. Sheila Na Gig. She’s sort of a good luck charm, you could say.” Ardeth’s tone was disbelieving. “*That* thing is a good luck charm?!” Ardeth stepped forward to get a better look. Hanging by two long strips of rawhide from the pole tips was a square stone plaque. On it was carved a rather disturbing image that Ardeth had never seen the likes of in his entire life. Chiseled into the stone was the image of a woman. She was a hag in all her naked glory: bony rib cage in plain sight, breasts dried out and sagging. Her bald, over-sized head, with its huge staring eyes looked straight down at Ardeth. Her thin legs were set wide apart, bent at the knees and her spindly arms and hands reached down to her excessively enormous genitals. This Sheila was holding herself open with both hands and smiling toothlessly! Ardeth looked towards Bethany to see her trying to hide her smile behind her hand. He had never seen anything so blatant and seemingly lewd before. His warriors of Indian descent had often spoken of temples in their homeland that were covered with carved images of couples in sexual union. And of course Ardeth had heard of the Kama Sutra, the famed book that illustrated the many positions of love-making. But this carving… Bethany cleared her throat. She knew she needed to explain the carving if Ardeth was going to get past the unsubtle and apparently obscene first impression he’d just gotten from it. “Ardeth, Sheila Na Gig is a fertility goddess. Of British-Celtic mythology. Her prominent display of her genitals is an attempt to allay the powers of death. With the advent of Christianity she was carved on the outside of English churches - as a female demon to ward off evil.” Ardeth looked in Bethany’s direction. He noted how serene she looked as she gazed up at the odd carving. “She is not beautiful and yet there is no doubting her power. This strange, unlikely figure is carved above the gateway of an ancient chapel. What on earth is she doing up there? I like to look at her as a guardian angel of sorts. Those who know her purpose are comforted by her presence. Those that are not familiar with her ways are apt to move on quickly, therefore, she protects those who believe in her.” Ardeth contemplated what Bethany had just said. “So she is considered a protector?” Bethany smiled, realizing again that Ardeth Bay was deceptively intelligent. Things might surprise him and there were things he might never have heard of or seen, but he was quick in his absorption of new knowledge and able to rapidly ascertain the logic behind things. She could see why even at a relatively young age Ardeth was chieftain of the Medjai. “Yes, she is a protector. But she’s so much more than that. A goddess of fertility, sexuality, life and death. The vulva or yoni is considered a very holy symbol and represents the gates of life and death, the entrance to or exit from the great womb of Mother Earth. She dares you to look at her, face your fears of aging, and triumph in your celebration of what will age and die. Her gaze and her gesture says it all… “I am the doorway.” Ardeth continued reflecting on the image along with Bethany’s words. “So she is similar to several of the Egyptian gods and goddesses but combined into one. She rules over many important aspects of day-to-day life.” Bethany beamed. “Exactly! She is the Earth Mother who gives and receives life back to herself, a figure of change and transition and transformation, who like all gateways has a disturbing aspect. Change is by nature disturbing. At times of passage, we move from the known to the unknown.“ Bethany’s tone changed as she began to sense Ardeth’s openness to this new wisdom. She had to broach the subject eventually in greater detail. “Changes are coming, Ardeth. Some people’s lives will never the same if history comes to pass.” Ardeth sighed heavily. “Yes, you are right.” Bethany continued. “That which is unknown can be fearful and the guardian aspects will also be fearful. Once the change is made and the gateway is passed we can look back and wonder at our fear. The gateway guardians become beautiful and compassionate figures of rebirth and regeneration. This is in many ways what Sheila Na Gig symbolizes. And we must hope that we can find a way to stop certain changes from happening. Because while change is good, if it’s forced…it has a detrimental effect.” Ardeth could no longer contain himself. He had to ask her about what had happened earlier. He prodded gently. “That chant you recited as you freed Cheb… what language was that?” “It is a gypsy dialect. From the Basque region between France and Spain.” “And what is the incantation?” Bethany gestured for Ardeth to sit by the fire. He gracefully slid to the ground, crossing one leg under him and hugging his other leg with one arm. Bethany translated the gypsy words for him: “Sand in the wind God, I sing your splendor You, who are the earth and the fire The water and the wind. All the sons of the wind are your sons All the sons of the wind are brothers This is why I sing my brothers of the desert The sons of the sand of the desert” Ardeth shook his head confused. “But how such words make the sand move and do your bidding?” “There is energy all around us, Ardeth, in many forms. And while nature and energy are neither good or evil… they can be used for good or evil. If a person can tune into the energy in things around them, they can move objects, shift time and goodness knows what else if they are powerful enough or have the appropriate enhancements. It would depend completely on the abilities of the person. In essence, I was asking a favor of the sand… that it release Cheb.” Ardeth muttered under his breath. “That’s the trouble with living out here in such a badiyyah.” Bethany tilted her head, trying to discern what Ardeth was saying. “What’s a bad-iy-yah?” Ardeth looked at Bethany. “It’s a desert or semi-arid environment. But I have news for you… that was *not* the quicksand we are accustomed to out here. That is a sign that Imhotep is fighting his bonds.” “Yes, I had gathered as much. While we were trying to free Cheb with the rope, I sensed there was a malevolent force at work.” “Well, your instincts were correct. I only wonder how much time we have on our side.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The Sisterhood Of One - Chapter 9 |