The Forever Friends
by LadiSwan

Summary: Evy's American penpal arrives in Egypt with her young daughter and younger brother.  But as she sets foot on Egyptian soil, she becomes haunted by dreams of a past life, of a handsome prince, a young concubine, and the concubine's best friend. . .a beautiful girl named 'Anck-su-namun.'  As an ancient evil arises once more, Anck-su-namun finds herself in a Place-in-Between, and while there, she also discovers a chance at redemption. . .if she can look past Ardeth Bey's Med-jai markings.

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It was a popular misconception that any member of the Med-jai would do anything for the O'Connells, simply because they were friends of the Med-jai chieftain.  While Hanif would do anything for Ardeth Bey himself, the O'Connells were another matter entirely.  He didn't like the O'Connells.  He didn't like Evelyn O'Connell for her inability to respect the legends of his people, and he didn't like Rick O'Connell for his attitude that Ardeth Bey was his to command.

However, he had no hesitation about returning to the O'Connell home in Cairo, to report back to Ardeth about the meeting in the bazaar.  It was time they started contributing, rather than demanding Ardeth's help all the time.  The twenty-two year old never mentioned his contempt for the O'Connell family to his leader.  He was Med-jai.  He followed his orders.  And in this case, his feelings were immaterial, because Jason Ferguson was a more potent threat.

The young Med-jai met up with his two comrades, quietly outlining what he had heard as they walked back to the O'Connell house, and had the satisfaction of seeing rage bloom in the eyes of both men.  Garai, the oldest of the men, said as they approached the front door, "This will not be allowed to take place.  They will not permitted to harm Ardeth, or the woman, much less the child.  What manner of man threatens a helpless little one?"

"He who shall not be named, among others. . .including that demon who worshipped him," Hanif answered promptly.  He didn't like the O'Connells.  That didn't mean he was pleased when their eight year old son was abducted by Hafez and Lock-nah.  His own brother had been taken by bandits in the same raid which led to the rape of Acacia Bey.  His mother had never recovered from the loss of her son, and Hanif had never forgotten his mother's grief.  There was no way he would wish that on anyone.  Nor would he wish to be in the hands of that demon, Lock-nah, who enjoyed causing pain.

"Aywa, that's true.  For now, we must warn Ardeth," the third member of the group, Kaphiri, replied.  The trio made their way through the gate, seeing Ardeth in the backyard with his younger brother and the others.  He was starting to sit down beside the young American woman again, the one whose brother was proving to be so troublesome, but saw them and leaned over to say something to her.

She smiled up at him, and Hanif blinked.  Up until now, he had viewed the American woman as a burden, like the O'Connells.  The Med-jai had many such burdens, as part of their sacred duty, and this one. . .like the O'Connells. . .would doubtless result in injury to Ardeth.  But his mother had always told him that much could be learned about a woman from her smile.  This woman had a very warm, very genuine smile which lit up her entire face.

A woman's smile, and a woman's eyes.  Perhaps the American wouldn't be such a waste after all, if she was as honest and true as her smile implied.  She might still cause Ardeth to be injured, but Hanif knew his chieftain well enough to realize the somewhat older man would not flinch away from protecting her for that reason.  After all, they were Med-jai, and that was part of their purpose.  Injuries happened.  Death happened.

Hanif had seen death, at Ahm Shere.  He had seen the fear in the eyes of his chieftain as Ardeth turned to face them.  The second wave of Anubis Warriors had just been sighted, and Hanif had been afraid himself.  Deathly afraid.  Afraid of the horror which was to come, afraid for his friends, afraid for his chieftain. . .afraid that he would disgrace himself.  He had seen an answering fear in Ardeth's eyes. 

Fear which was quickly replaced with determination.  Ardeth had turned back around and called out defiantly in Arabic, "Until death!"  The chant was quickly taken up, and Hanif had realized in that moment, that he would follow Ardeth Bey anywhere.  Do whatever was asked of him.  This man, who was just a man, was just as frightened as Hanif himself was, and yet. . .refused to give up.  Such a man was worth following to the very Underworld if need be.

Garai gasped something, and Hanif looked at him in astonishment.  The older man, older than Ardeth and most of the surviving commanders, was staring at the American woman in awe.  Garai whispered, "Lady Ardath?  Have the gods truly seen fit to return you to us?"  Lady Ardath?  What was Garai talking about?  Hanif looked from the American to the man, and Garai continued, growing excited, "Do you not see?  The American woman!  She is Lady Ardath, reborn!"

Lady Ardath?  The concubine around whom so many legends were woven?  Surely not!  After all, Celia Ferguson was American, and Lady Ardath was. . . something else.  Garai continued impatiently, as if hearing Hanif's doubts, "It is she!  I remember her. . .I served her.  I was the Med-jai assigned to protect her, and I was the Med-jai who failed her.  The Med-jai she forgave, even as she lay dying in the arms of the prince."

Ardeth was listening to something that was being said and remained standing, his head bowed as if in thought, but Hanif knew he was listening to the conversation at his feet.  He wondered if it was anywhere near as interesting as what Hanif was hearing right now.

Somehow, he doubted it.  Garai continued, his voice low and hushed, "Oh, the stories I could tell you about her!  The ones which you never heard while you were growing up.  Somehow, the stories about her temper never became part of the Med-jai legend.  But she had a temper to rival that of Rameses himself, and if she was angry enough, her tongue could be just as sharp as Acacia's.  I remember one time, she threw a goblet at Prince Rameses when he made her angry. . .threw it hard enough to knock him unconscious."

Garai's voice trembled a little with laughter, as he added, "We kept the goblets away from her for a while.  Rameses learned not to ignore her, or she would throw something else to get his attention.  She was. . .could be. . .rather fiery.  And she was mischievous.  No one was safe from her practical jokes, not even He Who Shall Not Be Named.  Of course, that fool always thought that it was his whore who thought it up, because my Lady had not the intelligence to think of such a prank."  Now his voice was laced with bitterness.

Hanif was on the verge of asking about just that. . .the bitterness in his voice, as well as how he knew that Lady Ardath did, indeed, think up the pranks, but it was then that Ardeth approached them.  He looked concerned, and Hanif knew they were about to add to that.  Garai said, immediately dropping the subject, "My chieftain. . . Hanif overheard a most disturbing conversation at the bazaar."  That was Hanif's cue.

.                     .                       .

Garai listened only with half his attention as Hanif outlined what they heard in the bazaar to Ardeth.  Ardeth, who bore the name of Garai's ward.  The old Med-jai had been gifted with his memories shortly after his rites of manhood, and knew he was meant to do something in his lifetime to atone for his previous failure.  He had all of his memories.  He knew who Rick O'Connell was.  He knew who Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell was, and her brother.

Just as he knew whom Ardeth Bey was, and held no grudge against him for those long-ago sins.  Like many in their tribe, Garai had known Ardeth for his entire life.  He had been a young warrior when Ardeth was born, had watched the shy, solemn boy grow up into a quiet, capable warrior. . .then into a lethal and fierce chieftain.  He loved the young man, as many among the tribes did.  Ardeth would make mistakes of his own.  He did not need to carry on his shoulders the mistakes of the past.

Garai knew this was the reason Ardeth had not yet remembered his life as Rameses, son of Seti and brother of Nefertiri.  Garai had long since forgiven Rameses for everything that had transpired between the Med-jai and the prince after the murder of Lady Ardath.  He had forgiven Rameses, because he could not forgive himself. 

Through the years, Garai listened with a smile to the tales told of his young ward, the ones emphasizing her gentleness and her courage.  And she was a gentle, courageous woman.  But there was more to her than that.  As he had told Hanif, she had the devil's own temper, one to match Rameses if someone in the palace was foolish enough to push her that far.  Although, few tried it after she hit Rameses with the goblet she had thrown at him.  For a woman, she had devastating aim.

And her practical jokes were almost as legendary among the Med-jai as her temper.  Garai had been present when Ardath decided upon a fitting prank for He Who Shall Not Be Named, and almost fell over laughing when she pulled it off.  He was so proud of her. . .not just for executing the prank, but also for not clouting the priest when that one gave Anck-su-namun all the credit.  Garai had known the truth, however, as had Rameses.

But for now, Garai brought himself back to the present as Hanif concluded his narrative.  He would be needed to protect his chieftain, and the reincarnation of Ardath.  His chieftain looked thoughtful for several moments, then a familiar light appeared in his dark eyes.  Ardeth Bey smiled faintly, saying softly, "You must not tell the O'Connells, or Celia Ferguson.  Nor must you confront Jason Ferguson with what you know.  We will allow them to think we do not know."

Garai nodded his acknowledgment and approval.  Ardeth continued, still in that low voice, "Garai, I want you looking after Miranda Ferguson.  There is a good possibility these men, whoever they are, will attempt to abduct her anyhow."  Garai was on the verge of protesting, when he remembered that Miranda was the daughter of Ardath's reincarnation.  He nodded instead, and Ardeth continued, "And I. . .I will look after Celia Ferguson myself."

"What of me, Ardeth?" Kaphiri asked.  The chieftain looked at him thoughtfully, then his smile broadened ever so slightly.  Garai remembered that smile from previous lifetimes.  Rameses always wore that smile when he was about to do something which he knew Seti would frown upon, but something which Rameses, and the Med-jai, knew to be necessary.  In this lifetime, it usually meant Ardeth was about to do something very sneaky.

"You, my friend, will have the most important mission of all.  Should I fail to protect Celia Ferguson, you are to follow them into the desert. . .leave a bread crumb, so to speak, so we might follow you.  Jonathan Carnahan will be watching out for me," Ardeth answered at last.  Hanif and Kaphiri both stared at him in shock, but Garai simply smiled, knowing something which the two younger Med-jai did not.  Firstly, Jonathan had saved the life of their chieftain in the jungle of Ahm Shere.  Secondly, that Jonathan was none other than Nassor reborn.  Whether Jonathan remembered his past life or not, he would allow no harm to come to Ardeth.

And he told his younger compatriots this, saying quietly, "You forget, young ones.  It was Jonathan Carnahan who saved the life of our chieftain, after he had defeated Lock-nah in combat.  He will not let Ardeth down." Because if he does, and those bastards get their hands on Ardeth, I'll kill him Jonathan Carnahan myself!  Garai added, looking at Ardeth, "But that will mean we must tell him of what we know.  Will he not tell his sister and brother-in-law what he knows?"  Ardeth shook his head, his mind zipping ahead to each problem as he thought of them.

"La," came the response, "not if we do not tell him until that morning.  Hanif. . .I
want you to explain to Celia Ferguson, after this is over, what you heard.  This will not be the last attempt, and I wish her to be on her guard as much as possible.  I will be teaching her what I can, but six days is not enough time for her to know what she must."  Ardeth added something rather uncomplimentary in ancient Egyptian under his breath about Jason Ferguson, and Garai could only agree with him.  He would have agreed, even if Celia was not the reincarnation of Ardath.

"You fear she will not believe her younger brother capable of such perfidy?" Hanif asked.  Ardeth looked up, shaking his head, but unlike Hanif, Garai knew what his chieftain meant.  Hanif was thinking that Ardeth did, indeed, fear such a thing.  But Garai realized that Ardeth knew what he did.  That Celia would believe them, and it saddened their chieftain. . .especially knowing of the strong bond between Ardeth and his own younger brother Anatol.

However, Ardeth replied, "That is one of my concerns.  The best thing would be to trick the abductors into admitting that Jason Ferguson helped them, but I am not sure how that is possible.  Hanif, tell me again about the two men. . .the other two men, who never spoke?"  Now what was Ardeth thinking?  This was not something upon which Rameses would have focused.  Garai shook his head at himself.  He was expecting Ardeth to react like Rameses.  Things had changed.  Ardeth carried the prince's spirit, but he was not Rameses.

Nor should Garai expect him to react as Rameses would.  Ardeth was, indeed, capable of great cruelty.  They were a desert people, entrusted with the stewardship of Hamunaptra, and to ensure that Seti's priest did not rise again.  It was sometimes necessary to kill people, and it was not something Ardeth enjoyed.  It was one reason Garai respected him so much.  He did not revel in the taking of lives.  It was his duty, and he carried it out.

But he was much more stable than Rameses had been.  Much stronger, and much more capable.  Ardeth, in his thirty-three years of life, had dealt with as much sorrow as Rameses, though admittedly with more support at times.  There was the loss of his father when he was only fourteen. . .the murder of his brother, and the rape of his sister, when he was seventeen.  Taking command of the Med-jai after the death of Andreas, and submerging his own grief to take care of his people. . .his mother, his younger brother, and his two sisters.

"Garai!"  The older Med-jai's head snapped up, and he found Ardeth frowning at him in concern.  He realized that Ardeth had been trying to get his attention for the last few minutes, and nodded, to confirm he was paying attention now.  Ardeth continued, still looking concerned, "Garai, this disturbs me.  Tomorrow, I wish you to speak with our man at the Cairo Museum and start research into this thing that Hanif describes.  It sounds almost like the mind control which the Creature used during his first rising."

Now that Garai thought about it, Ardeth had a point.  Kaphiri asked, "Do you think Seti's priest is the employer which that man spoke of, my chieftain?  He does, after all, have that power which was described to Jason Ferguson."  Ardeth shook his head, frowning thoughtfully, and this time, Garai made no attempt to ascertain what his leader was thinking.  He did, however, curse Jason Ferguson for ruining Ardeth's holiday.

"I think not," came the slow reply, "according to O'Connell and Evelyn, who were closest, the Creature threw himself into the Underworld after Anck-su-namun fled from him.  It is possible, of course. . .anything is possible.  However. . .my instincts tell me that this is someone different.  Possibly someone who is even more dangerous."  Ardeth started to say something else, then shook his head, looking troubled.

Garai put his hand on his chieftain's shoulder, saying softly, "Then we will find out from whence this new threat comes, Ardeth.  You have my word."  Ardeth smiled and Garai continued, "I shall leave for the Museum immediately.  Ardeth. . .take the advice of an old friend, who has known you since you were in swaddling clothes." And long before. Ardeth raised his eyebrows questioningly and Garai continued, "Continue with your holiday.  You have more than earned it, my chieftain." 

This time, Ardeth smiled. . .even better, he laughed, and replied, "I shall endeavor to do so, my friend."  Garai smiled back.  That was all he asked for.  He knew, just as well as all the Med-jai, that it was all he could ask for from their solemn chieftain.  There were times when Garai wondered what would have happened, had Andreas lived.  Those questions ended after a nightmare regarding the first time the priest arose.  While Garai didn't doubt the right man was leading the Med-jai, the nightmare showed him just how bad things could have been, if Ardeth wasn't leading them at the time.  He questioned the past no more.




.                   .                           .




Ardeth returned to the house, still thinking about what his men had told him.  He would never admit this to his men, but he actually felt sorry for Jason Ferguson.  In a twisted sort of way, Jason really thought he was protecting his sister, and his niece.  He didn't understand the kind of men he was dealing with.  Ardeth, however, did.  He also knew that if the men succeeded in abducting Celia, then her life was forfeit.

Which was why he had assigned Kaphiri to follow the men, if they succeeded at the bazaar.  He was the last line of defense.  There was nothing Ardeth could do about the plans made by the men in the bazaar.  But he could disrupt them.  He could make their lives bloody difficult, and that was one thing Ardeth Bey would do with pleasure.  He had little use for men who would use others in such a way.

"Everything all right?" Rick O'Connell asked and Ardeth nodded every so slightly.  He knew O'Connell would be furious with him, for not telling him everything.  But the other man had a tendency to shoot first, ask questions later.  In order to find out exactly what was going on, Ardeth had to leave the men alive.  At least for now.

"We may have some trouble looming," Ardeth admitted, "but you and your family are not the targets."  O'Connell looked at him quickly, then his pale eyes slid to Celia, happily talking with Evy, while Anatol continued to practice with Miranda.  O'Connell looked back at Ardeth, and the Med-jai nodded.  The American swore under his breath, his hand automatically settling on his ever-present pistol.

"Damn. . .her brother, I would bet?" O'Connell asked.  Again, Ardeth nodded, silently figuring out how much it would be safe to tell O'Connell.  The other man asked next, "And you think something else is going on, so you won't tell me exactly what kind of danger Celia is, so I don't kill anyone.  Do I have the right of it?"  Now Ardeth did look at his friend in astonishment.  He hadn't expected O'Connell to understand.

"Yes.  A trap is being laid for us, my friend.  I plan on springing that trap, and using it to find out exactly what kind of danger faces us all," Ardeth answered.  He didn't trust his old friend not to kill Jason Ferguson, when he found out exactly what the young man was up to.  If it wasn't necessary to keep the boy alive, Ardeth would have probably killed him.  But the more information O'Connell himself had, the better he could protect his family.

"Aww shit. . .another one?" O'Connell groaned and Ardeth stiffened.  Did O'Connell think he enjoyed this?  But it was then that O'Connell surprised him, and Ardeth didn't think that was possible.  The other man reached over, settling his hand on Ardeth's shoulder, and said, "I'm sorry. . .that was uncalled for.  I learned my lesson the last time.  I can't run away anymore, no matter how much I might want to.  Just. . .let me know when the time comes, okay?"

"I would die myself before I allowed any harm to come to Evelyn or Alex," Ardeth answered and O'Connell nodded.  Ardeth supposed his friend knew that. . .but there were times when he felt it needed to be said.  The chieftain nodded toward Evy and Celia, still talking away, and asked, "What sorts of deviltry are those two planning?"   O'Connell looked at his wife and their houseguest, smiling unexpectedly.

"I don't know, but with those two. . .after only a day here, I'm already thinking that underestimating my fellow expatriate might be a really bad idea," O'Connell answered.  Ardeth merely arched a brow. . .he was just now figuring this out?  His companion added, rolling his eyes, "All right, so I'm a little slow on the uptake. . .I should have realized that last night."  Better.  Much better.

There was a long silence, then O'Connell asked slowly, "You like her, don't you?  I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that.  She's a nice girl. . .a bit on the quiet side.  Right up until the time you get on her bad side."  O'Connell frowned, looked at Ardeth, then added, "Kinda like someone else I know."  Ardeth leaned back against the wall of his friend's home and smiled at him mischievously.

But O'Connell wasn't finished.  His blue eyes narrowed, "Come to think of it. . . you never did answer my question last night.  I'm starting to realize that there's a lot you haven't told us about you."  Ardeth looked at the other man with some confusion. 

Last night.  Oh yes, O'Connell asking him who he was and what he had done with Ardeth.  The chieftain replied, "I told you what was necessary for us to defeat the Creature and the Scorpion King.  You were never interested in anything else I had to say."  That didn't quite come out the way Ardeth meant it. . .he had simply meant that Rick O'Connell simply never asked about Ardeth's life.  But the American flinched anyhow.

Ardeth started to speak, but O'Connell answered, "I suppose I deserved that.  You know Evy really raked me over the coals for. . .what happened in London.  She's real protective of you, you know."  Ardeth had, indeed, noticed.  In some ways, she reminded him of his own sisters in that respect.  If he closed his eyes, Ardeth could still see the determination and fury in Evelyn's eyes as she blasted the mummy warrior with her husband's shotgun.

"I only meant that you simply never asked.  I would have told you," Ardeth replied, not knowing what else to say.  O'Connell just smiled and nodded. Ardeth continued, "You know my younger brother Anatol.  And that it was he who pulled me from the rubble, along with aid from one of the elders.  I have two sisters, Acacia and Aleta.  They are both younger than I am.  My father insisted that I receive the same training as my older brother Andreas.  Just in case."

"How old were you when your father died?" O'Connell asked softly.  Ardeth didn't answer at first, though memories flashed through his eyes.  He had been told many times, through the years, that he looked even more like his father, Suleiman, than his older brother had.  Altair Bey made sure he knew that.  Every time he smiled, every time his hair fell into his eyes during a practice sparring, he brought forth a new memory of his father for his mother.

Ardeth spent little time even considering his own reflection.  He knew he was pleasing to the eyes of the maidens in the tribes.  And he had felt Evelyn's eyes on him once or twice.  But his appearance simply was of no importance to him.  He had too many other things that worried him, including another rising of the Creature.  He truly didn't know how that would be possible, when the priest had thrown himself into the Underworld.  But Ardeth Bey didn't make the same mistake twice.  It was bad enough that the Creature had risen twice already.  No more.

"I was thirteen years of age when he died.  I never realized this before, O'Connell, but my brother was only a year older than I was, when he took command of the Med-jai.  He was eighteen when our father died. . .and I was seventeen when Andreas died.  The elders were not happy about it. . .I had only gone through my rites of manhood a year earlier.  But. . .my brother told all, before we tracked Lock-nah, that I would succeed him, if he died," Ardeth replied.

"Seventeen.  Just a kid," O'Connell said softly.  There was another long silence, then he asked next, "Lock-nah. . .he killed your brother, then?"  Ardeth nodded, and his friend continued, "Evy told me that there was some sort of history between the two of you.  She could hear the hatred in his voice. . .and in yours.  She could see fear in his eyes, too. . .in the eyes of all of his men when they saw you."

"He killed my brother and raped my sister," Ardeth answered flatly.  Even after all these years, the memory still caused pain in his chest.

He continued after a moment, "Among my people, there is not the foolishness that a woman deserves to be raped, or asks for it."  Ardeth spat out the words, feeling sick that they would even pass his lips.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to wipe away the poison and accompanying nausea, before continuing, "When Andreas and I found Acacia, we made sure our mother and other sister could stay with here, before we went after Lock-nah."

"So. . .you see Celia, and see the way she interacts with her brother.  It brings back memories," O'Connell said quietly and Ardeth nodded.  He remembered his sister weeping in his arms, after Andreas was murdered and the Med-jai given strict orders regarding Lock-nah.  It was over though.  Lock-nah was dead.  Andreas and Acacia were both avenged.  And now, here was another brother and sister, reminding Ardeth of the violation done to his sister.

"Yes," he replied, then frowned when he saw Celia push herself to her feet.  She leaned down and said something to Evy, looking over by her daughter, and the young Englishwoman nodded her agreement.  Celia smiled, warming her face, then headed into the house.  Ardeth said, "There is something I wish to discuss with your houseguest.  I will return."  O'Connell nodded, and Ardeth followed Celia inside, warring with himself over what he wanted to say to her.

.                   .                           .

So. . .Evy thought that she was Lady Ardath, the young foreign concubine in Celia's dreams.  She believed that was the case, especially since Meela Nais, Anck's reincarnation, had died recently.  And with that piece of news, Celia felt for the first time that she might be right.  When she learned of Meela's death, Celia had felt. . .loss.  It made no sense, because she had never even met the woman.

Celia had excused herself, needing to use the privy and to think about what Evy had told her in the last few minutes.  She had so much to consider.  Evy knew her own identity in the past. . .she was Nefertiri, and if Evy was correct about Celia's previous identity, then it could be said that they were sisters-in-law, after a fashion.  She remembered Rameses mentioning Nefertiri in her dream, but she didn't know anything about a bond between Nefertiri and Ardath.

Only about the bonds between Ardath and Rameses, as well as Ardath and Anck.  While she had been denied the chance to see his face, his voice was hauntingly familiar.  And he had loved Ardath, just as Anck had.  Celia had no way of knowing, of course, that Meela had been utterly devastated by the false news of Celia's own death at Hamunaptra.  She didn't know that Meela's one comfort through the years were her nightly dreams of Anck's forever friend.  She didn't know that Meela's fury had ignited when she was told that Celia had been left to die in Hamunaptra, after Imhotep was made mortal once more.

No, Celia only knew that she felt a curious loss deep within her heart, the same sort of loss she had felt when she awoke days after Miranda's birth, to learn that her mother was dead.  Had died when she ran into the street, trying desperately to get help for Celia and Miranda, the latter struggling to be born.  In the end, it seemed as if her mother truly had loved her. . .if she was so distraught, she didn't even notice that she was rushing into the path of a car.

Celia found the privy easily and took care of her business, thinking about her conversations with Evy during the last few hours, while Anatol taught her very determined daughter what she would need to know.  It had started out as a distraction. . .Celia had tensed every time Miranda fell on her backside, even as Anatol helped her to her feet.  She couldn't help herself, but she also knew that Miranda had begged the young Med-jai for the lessons.

Evy saw this, and understood.  She began to question Celia about any other dreams she might have had.  For example, the previous night, after Celia had gone back to bed.  The only dreams Celia had were of her parents and her grandmother.  Her father behaving as he always did. . .her mother and grandmother mouthing something to her, trying desperately to make her understand something which she couldn't.

Thoughts of her mother, as well as her mother's death, were always accompanied by memories of Leslie Carstairs, and remembering how she had learned of his deception.  She had been part of a bet.  She had been used, and once Carstairs got what he wanted, he had thrown her and their daughter away.  Jason had been enraged.  Carstairs had wanted to make sure the message got through, that he was finished with them both, and sent two of his goons to chase her through the streets of Chicago.

Celia held no illusions about what they would do to her if they caught her, and so she had run with everything she had.  She ran to protect herself and she ran to protect her unborn child.  She was still thinking about that night. . .about hearing those men behind her, their footfall alerting her that they hadn't given up.  The house was dark upstairs, for there were no windows except in the windows. . .dark, just as it was that night.

She shuddered, hearing the floorboards creaking behind her.  She tried to remember if Evy and Rick had told her whether or not the house was locked.  And all rational thought disappeared from Celia's mind as a hand landed solidly on her shoulder.  Screaming, the young woman spun around to drive her knee into her attacker's groin, a move she had learned several years earlier after Miranda was born.

Except. . .it wasn't an attacker.  It was Ardeth Bey, who crumpled to the ground with an almost silent groan.  He was curled into a little ball, and Celia felt her face turn bright red.  She dropped to her knees beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder, and gasped out, "Oh my God!  I'm so sorry!  I'm sorry, you startled me, I didn't mean to hurt you!"  All right, so that was something of an untruth.  She had meant to hurt him. . .but not Ardeth.

"Good Lord, girl, what on earth did you do to him?" Jonathan Carnahan blurted out as Celia carefully helped Ardeth to sit up.  The tone of the Englishman almost had her backpedaling, but Ardeth's grip on her hand made that bloody well impossible.

She was too ashamed to answer, and Ardeth did that for her.  He gave a moan of pain, then rasped out, "Not her fault.  Startled her."  He slumped back against her, and Celia would have whimpered in sheer horror, if she was even capable of that.  As it was, she would be lucky if she could make her vocal cords work.  She hadn't thought at all. . .reacted purely by instinct when she was lost in a distant memory.

But the memory had been so vivid, even after all these years.  The terror had swamped her again, and even though her mind knew she was in Egypt in 1933, her instincts had been left in 1928 Chicago.  Without realizing what she was doing, she began to knead Ardeth's shoulder through his tunic.  He settled against her, his body relaxing ever so slightly.  If she had been capable of rational thought at that point, she would have been horrified by her own lapse of decorum.  She hadn't been in such proximity to a man since Carstairs.

But she wasn't really thinking about decorum, or how she should really move away from Ardeth, even though she no longer had a reputation to worry about.  Her mind was on alleviating the pain she had caused to the man who made her daughter feel safe.  Her own brother frightened Miranda. . .this man made her little girl feel safe, and she had hurt him.  Celia's guilt was stronger than any lingering veneer of respectability.

"I am. . .so. . .sorry," she breathed to the man now reclining against her.  She didn't know what else to say.  Jonathan was crouched in front of Ardeth, his bright blue eyes focused on the fallen Med-jai.  He looked. . .worried.  True enough, Celia felt guilty for nailing the poor man the way she had, but she seriously doubted that she could cause him any permanent damage.  She wasn't that strong, after all. . .not even when she was scared.

"It was not your fault. . .it was mine.  I should have announced my presence.  Very foolish of me," Ardeth answered, his voice now sounding stronger.  Still, Celia's fingers continued to knead his shoulder through his tunic.  It was a purely reflexive gesture, nothing important.  She wasn't easing his pain, wasn't doing anything important.  But each time her hand stopped its motion, and started to release her grip on Ardeth, his hand stayed hers.

"Very foolish, Ardeth old boy, you of all people should know better," Jonathan replied, sounding a bit more cheerful, "but so long as you don't intend on sharing your breakfast with us, the way you did after the bus ride. . ."  Sharing. . .oh.  Celia felt herself turn bright red.  She didn't have to see Ardeth's face, either, to realize that the Med-jai was glaring at Jonathan Carnahan for all he was worth.  Jonathan added hastily, "Right, then.  I'll get Rick."

And with that, he was on his feet and down the stairs.  Again, Celia whispered, "I'm so sorry.  I got lost in some memories."  She stopped, swallowing hard.  Ardeth tilted his head back, ever so slightly, until his dark eyes met her own.  He whispered something in a language she didn't understand, but she didn't need to.  He was asking her to tell him.  In a halting voice, she told him about her confrontation with Carstairs. . .and her resulting flight through the streets of Chicago as she fled from his goons.  Three months pregnant, fearing for her life and the life of her child.  Knowing exactly what those men would do to her. . .they had no compunction about hurting a woman. . .a pregnant woman.

She finished by saying, "I almost collapsed into Jason's arms when I got home.  He. . .he was so angry.  With Carstairs.  He kept raving, about what he would do to him, if anything happened to me or the baby."  She paused.  By this time, Ardeth was sufficiently recovered to shift ever so slightly, though Celia hadn't noticed it at first.  After a moment, Celia continued, "Both Miranda and I were fine.  But there was another attempt to kill us. . .this time, by Leslie himself.  And for that, Jason killed him."

She looked into Ardeth's dark eyes, saying softly, "I know you and Rick wonder about my relationship with Jason.  It's not an easy one. . .and I have sworn that if he endangers Miranda, I'll cut him out of my life.  But. . .he does love me."  She had only to see Jason's face, contorted with rage, as he shot Leslie Carstairs, to remember that.  But sometimes, it was very hard to remember, even with that memory.

She didn't understand the sudden pain in Ardeth's eyes as he lay his hand over her own, saying softly, "Know this, Celia Ferguson.  Yesterday, you came under my protection.  No one will ever be permitted to harm you again."  Celia started to say something, though she had no idea what she was about to say, but nothing came out.  Ardeth repeated, "No one will ever hurt you again, Celia.  I give you my word."  Staring into the dark eyes of the Med-jai, Celia understood the appeal he had for her daughter.  Because for the first time since her grandmother died, Celia felt safe.

.                     .                          .

Mathayus winced at the peal of laughter which sounded through this place in between as Ardeth Bey crumpled to the ground, wincing again in sympathy.  Like Anck, he no longer had a corporeal body. . .but that didn't stop him from covering the area where his privates would have been protectively.  He glared down at Anck, who was on the floor, laughing hysterically.  At least, the image of her was. . .like Mathayus himself, she tended to forget that she no longer had a body.

It. . .is. . .not. . .funny! he growled at the young woman.  Anck continued laughing hysterically, and around her helpless giggles, Mathayus could just make out, 'mighty Med-jai, ha!'  Mathayus glared at his companion.  She would think it was funny, though.  That had been one of the first moves Anck taught Ardath when they became friends, a way to defend herself.  Mathayus guessed it was a move older than time itself.

He wondered, briefly, how it began.  Did some woman in the First Times discover it by accident when a man tried to take from her what she would not give willingly?  Did she flail around until her knee happened to connect with that all-too-sensitive organ?  And then she passed that information onto other women?  Or was it something else, perhaps something instinctive?

Mathayus didn't know.  And he was distracted as Anck finally calmed down, still snickering, The mighty Med-jai, brought low by a woman.  Oh, if only Imhotep could see this. Mathayus glared at her. . .then smiled at what he was seeing below.  Celia Ferguson had Ardeth Bey cradled against her, gently kneading his shoulder through the thick cloth of his tunic.  Mathayus could hear her thoughts, and shook his head.   So. She believed that she was doing him no good. . .was relieving none of his pain with her actions?

She underestimated herself, but then, she always had.  Her touch had given Ardeth Bey another focus, and so his body relaxed.  She could not take his pain away, no. . .but as a warrior, he knew how important focus was.  Mathayus heard her thoughts, saw her guilt. . .and smiled, realizing what was in store for Rick O'Connell.  The American was coming up the stairs with his brother-in-law, and Mathayus could almost hear him snickering about Celia's reaction to Ardeth's approach.  Could hear what he planned to say.

"Hey buddy, hear you snuck up on the wrong girl," O'Connell said with a smirk as he reached the landing of the second floor.  Mathayus fought back a smirk of his own when O'Connell was hit by dual glares, from both Celia Ferguson and Ardeth Bey.  Already, the temper of which Mathayus had heard so much was starting to make itself known.  Already, the quiet tigress was beginning to show herself.  He had heard Garai speaking of that quiet tigress, and couldn't wait to actually meet her.

"No, I simply overreacted," came the calm response from that quiet tigress, her slim fingers wrapped around Ardeth's shoulders.  Without even realizing she was doing it. . .the freed soul of the Scorpion King could see the total lack of thought which went into the gesture. . .Celia brushed a raven lock back from the shoulders of the Med-jai commander, her stance protective.  And the Scorpion King smiled in amusement at the total befuddlement now decorating the face of the other American.

Mathayus looked at his companion, who was staring at her forever friend in openmouthed astonishment.  Apparently, Anck had expected Ardath's reincarnation to take the same pleasure in the agony she had inflicted upon the Med-jai as Anck herself.  Mathayus intoned, Do not forget, child. . .she has no reason to fear or hate the Med-jai.  This man has just pledged himself to her protection. . .or were you not paying attention?

The Med-jai failed her!  Just as I did!  It was their responsibility to protect her, and they failed!  They failed her once, what makes you think Ardeth Bey will not fail! his companion spat in answer.  Mathayus closed his eyes, just as Anck had closed her ears when Garai had remembered his past in her time.  Remembered that Ardeth Bey was the reincarnation of Rameses, just as Celia was the reincarnation of Ardath.

She refused to see, to hear, to understand, and Mathayus felt that failure weigh heavily on his shoulders.  A gentle voice whispered for him alone, the failure is not yours, my son, for she refuses to see that which is in front of her.  She refuses to see past the tattoos, even knowing that the Med-jai loved her sister as much as she did herself.  You can only do so much, Mathayus, and Anck-su-namun bears some responsibility here.

Mathayus dipped his head in acknowledgment, telling Anck, Ardeth Bey is an honorable man.  And he is willing to. . .as the current saying runs. . .to fight dirty, if that will protect those under his protection.  Such as your forever friend; or, rather, her reincarnation.  You still do not understand, Anck-su-namun.  But perhaps you are incapable of understanding an honorable man such as Ardeth Bey, when you have no honor of your own?

He was deliberately insulting, deliberately cruel.  He knew all too well the confusion which tore at the heart and soul of his companion.  Knew she couldn't sort her own actions from those of Meela's.  He continued in that mocking voice, After all, you never gave Evelyn O'Connell the chance to defend herself, when you killed her in front of her son, her husband, and her brother.  This after you killed yourself in full view of your lover.

Niy!  That is not true! Anck cried out, her voice raw with anguish.  Mathayus, however, could not stop now.  There was entirely too much at stake.  Khaldun represented a threat greater than anything Ardeth Bey had ever faced.  Far greater, and the young Med-jai king would need all the help he could get.  Mathayus was determined to make sure he received that aid.  There was nothing he could do about O'Connell, but there was something to be done about Anck.

Is it not?  Perhaps you continue to hold young Ardeth accountable for the misdeeds of his distant ancestor, Hamadi Bey?  Is that the truth?  Then, my dear Anck, I can set your mind at ease. . .for Ardeth Bey comes not from the line of the Med-jai captain who sentenced your love to the hom-dai.  Rather, he comes from the line of Hamadi's younger brother, Shakir.  You. . .do. . .remember Shakir, do you not? Mathayus asked.

Shakir Bey. . .he was my own protector.  Until Ardath was murdered and then. . .  And then, Rameses asked him to raise his son.  Ardath's son, Anck whispered.  She didn't follow that thought to the logical conclusion, for she added, Shakir Bey. . .so Ardeth Bey is of his line.  I do not see the resemblance. If he could have, Mathayus would have rolled his eyes.  Of course she didn't see the resemblance, for two obvious reasons. . .first and foremost, more than three thousand years had passed!

The other reason. . .well, obviously, she wasn't ready to hear the other reason.  Instead, Mathayus replied, Yes, Ardeth Bey is of his line.  And Shakir, I am sure you will remember, was nothing like his brother. That was quite true.  After the hom-dai was cast, Hamadi paid for his presumption with his life, and leadership of the Med-jai was then passed to his younger brother Shakir.  For lack of a better word, Shakir Bey was the first Med-jai king, though they didn't use such phrases. . .that made it no less true.

Anck did, indeed, remember her own guardian.  Fondly, too, it would seem.  She smiled gently, replying, He was such a sweet boy.  I remember, when he was first assigned to guard me, there was a part of me which hoped Rameses would not be pleased by my friend. . .she would have made an excellent wife for Shakir.  And then. . .I would see Rameses and Ardath together.  Things worked out for the best.

Perhaps there was hope for this arrogant little girl after all.  She was not Cassandra. . .had none of Cassandra's strength or compassion, her determination to protect innocents.  But there was something else there. . .something which gave him hope.

Mathayus answered softly, Tis true.  Ardath's destiny was not as the wife of Shakir Bey, but was to be found at the side of Rameses. Although, her son's destiny was quite different.  However, he would wait for Anck to figure it out.  She already knew that Shakir and his wife Paziyah had raised Ardath's son after her murder.  It was just a matter of time before she figured out the rest of it.  He hoped.

And for now, there was another drama playing out before them.  Mathayus returned his attention to that drama as Celia Ferguson carefully helped the still pained Ardeth Bey into a more comfortable position.  Anck whispered, Why do you care for him, my sweet sister?  Remember, Ardath. . .remember how they failed you, remember they cannot be trusted.  Remember, my sister!  Remember! Mathayus just shook his head sadly. 

.                     .                             .

Blissfully unaware of the war in the Afterlife, Rick O'Connell regarded the pair in front of him. . .one still curled up, and the other in a protective stance.  He looked from one to the other, somewhat bemused by what he was seeing.  As well as Celia Ferguson's assertion that she had overreacted.  He was on the point of asking what exactly that meant, but he happened to see Celia's expression.  She looked. . .for lack of a better word. . .haunted.

And he decided to let it drop.  Instead, he crouched down beside Ardeth, asking, "You feel up to moving, or do I need to carry you?"  This time, he was hit with a full-fledged glare, and Rick couldn't help irritating his friend further.  He said, "Jonathan, take his other side."  His brother-in-law didn't go into his usual complaints.  Instead, he stepped to Ardeth's other side and gently pulled him upright.

Ardeth leaned heavily against the Englishman, however, as they pulled him into Evy and Rick's bedroom.  The American was on the verge of teasing Ardeth, asking if he didn't trust him, but the soft groans coming from his friend silenced him.  A quick glance told him that Ardeth was tightly clenching his teeth. . .the strain on the other man's face told him that Ardeth was trying desperately to keep his pain to himself.

So Rick O'Connell said nothing, and instead, eased his friend onto the bed.  Slowly.  Very slowly.  Jonathan now held Ardeth's shoulders and gently eased him back against the pillows.  A vision struck the American, then. . .a vision, a memory, a dream.  He couldn't remember which it was, couldn't explain.  But once before, he had done this.  The world around him shifted, became brighter.  He heard his own voice, which wasn't quite his own.  He was quietly murmuring to Ardeth, "Rest easy, my friend. . .my brother.  I will send your beloved to you. . .she is still helping the healers with the other wounded."

"No. . .no.  I will be fine.  She is needed where she is.  There are so many wounded, my friend. . .so many dying, and for what?  For what?" came his friend's anguished reply.  Rick's past self didn't answer.  He just dipped a cloth into the basin of water, then began cleaning his friend's wounds.  That part of him which was still Rick wondered why his past self had not yet called Ardeth by his name.  But it was a vague question.

"It was a foolish, foolish accident, my friend," came his soothing response, "no one is to blame."  Though Rick's past self knew for a fact Seti would try to find someone to blame.  All Terumun could do was pray no one he cared for would be among those blamed.  There was a whisper at his side, and Terumun looked up to see Ardath sinking to her knees beside them.  Tears marked her face, but she was smiling as she looked at Rameses.

"I just spoke with Lord Imhotep, my love.  He said the casualties are far fewer than anticipated," she said softly.  Well, that was a relief.  Although, knowing Imhotep, he had probably had someone else tell Ardath.  The high priest made little attempt to disguise his condescending attitude toward the young concubine.  However, after she had knocked Rameses unconscious by throwing the goblet at his head, Imhotep wisely avoided conflict with her.

"Rick?  I say, Rick, are you all right?"  Jonathan's voice pulled Rick back to the present.  He looked first at his brother-in-law, then at Ardeth, then finally at Celia.  The other American stood quietly at Ardeth's side, her stance still protective.  Rick's breath caught in his throat, staring into the chameleon eyes of his house guest.  For the first time, he really looked at the young woman. . .to find Lady Ardath, beloved concubine of Rameses and best friend of Anck-su-namun, staring back at him.

He had truly looked at her before, in the last day, since her arrival.  But that was before he had seen into the past, and seen Ardath's face.  For the first time, too, Rick realized that while he had seen Ardath's face, he had not seen Rameses.'  How could that be?  And while he could have never explained why he felt this way, it frightened him.  It frightened him almost as badly as the thought of losing Evy.  The American had never found it easy to deal with uncertainty or confusion.  Or, for that matter, things he didn't fully understand.  Never mind that half the time, Ardeth Bey warned him. . .and every time he warned him, he turned out to be right.

Rick fell back on old patterns, in his confusion.  Pointing his finger at each of the other three people in the room, "You, stay in bed. . .you, stay with him. . .you, come with me."  He grabbed Celia's arm as he spoke, fully prepared to drag her out of the room.  He was not, however, prepared for her to kick his ankle. . .hard.  Or for Ardeth to push himself out of bed to grab Celia and pull her behind him.  He was still in a helluva lot of pain. . .but his dark eyes showed only determination.

Ardeth took a deep breath, as if to chastise Rick, but it was Celia who fired back, her hazel eyes flashing with rage, "In the first place, Mr. O'Connell, I have a name.  It is Celia.  If you cannot remember that, perhaps Miss Ferguson would be easier on you.  In the second place, if you wish for me to accompany you, then you will ask me. . .not tell me.  In the third place, I will talk to you later, I want to make sure Ardeth is all right."

The pair stared at each other for several moments.  Terumun laughed, somewhere deep within Rick's soul, observing, the quiet tigress has awakened. This was borne out a moment later, when Celia added as she stepped out from behind Ardeth and gently pushed him back down onto the bed, "Oh, and the next time you pull a stunt like that, I'll do to you what I did to Ardeth, and don't think I won't."

In spite of himself, Rick laughed, wincing a little as the dark hair whipped around Celia's face.  He said, "Believe me, I'm not laughing at you."  He raised his hands in the classic surrender gesture, continuing, "Because I do believe you would do just that.  You just reminded me of Evy right now, that's all.  That's exactly what she'd do."  Because he had taught her, just as Rameses had taught Ardath, with some help from Anck-su-namun.

There was a minute relaxing in the young woman. . .Ardeth said softly, perhaps seeing the same relaxing that Rick saw, "Go, Celia.  I will be all right, and O'Connell is most impatient."  This was said with a roll of his eyes, and Rick stared at Ardeth.  Damn.  First he found out that his old friend had a younger brother who had rescued him from Hamunaptra, then he learned about the rest of Ardeth's family, including the fact that his father had died when he was just thirteen years old.  Only five years older than Alex.

And now, with this woman, Ardeth was behaving. . .well, just like a normal human being.  Something Rick hadn't realized he was capable of, and that thought made him ashamed.  Just in the last two days, he had learned more about Ardeth Bey than he had in the previous seven years.  Which made Rick wonder, a bit uneasily, what else his friend was hiding.  Evy had told him that the only reason Ardeth wouldn't have told them about the bracelet killing Alex at the end of those seven days, was if he himself didn't know.

Rick shook his head, trying to clear it, as Celia looked at Ardeth.  She seemed to be making sure he would, indeed, be all right.  The Med-jai nodded, and Celia shifted her gaze to Jonathan, who said with an encouraging smile, "Oh, go on, old mum. . .I promise I'll make sure Ardeth stays out of trouble!"  Rick blinked.  Come again?  He looked over at Celia, whose dark eyebrows had climbed almost into her hairline.  Jonathan blushed, then added, "Well. . ."

"Take care of him, Jonathan," was all Celia would say.  Jonathan nodded sheepishly, then the two Americans left the room together.  As they headed out into the hallway, Celia added softly, "I know he will, though.  Jonathan pretends to resent Ardeth for being everything Jonathan appears not to be, but he saved Ardeth's life at Ahm Shere, and the truth is, he cares more for Ardeth than he's willing to admit."  A short huff of laughter, almost derisive, then she added, "Though isn't that just like a man?"

Rick looked at the young woman, trying to figure out what she meant by the first part of her statement, and Celia continued, "When he arrived, before he went to get you. . .I was honestly afraid he would strike me, or worse, for hurting Ardeth.  He was truly worried about him.  And Evy told me about him shooting that man about to shoot Ardeth."  Rick frowned. . .what man?  Celia added, "You didn't know?  Evy and Jonathan stayed in place after you rescued Alex, to make sure Ardeth was safe.  After he fought the man who initially kidnapped Evy, one of the others came up behind him. . .but before he could shoot Ardeth, Jonathan shot the henchman."

Now that Rick hadn't known.  Then again, at the time, he had been more concerned with getting his son back.  Celia continued, "Evy told me about it.  She still hasn't told me the whole story, but I don't think she's ready to do that.  On the other hand,  she did tell me that it was the least she could do for Ardeth. . .to stay until he was safely headed back to his people."  Celia shook her head, murmuring, "It's so strange, at times.  Evy is terribly protective of him.  Almost as if he was a member of her family."

That last sentence haunted Rick, and he wasn't sure why.  They had been through so much with Ardeth. . .Rick supposed that it wasn't so far-fetched, for Evy to consider him a member of their family.  Then again, an understanding seemed to have been reached between Evy and Ardeth seven years earlier, when Evy had chosen to go with Imhotep, to save Jonathan, Ardeth, Rick and Dr Bey.  Rick had seen, from the corner of his eye, when Evy's eyes met Ardeth's. Live today, fight tomorrow, his friend had told him all those years ago.

Seven years later, his current companion continued, "You wanted to speak with me, Mr. O'Connell?"  Rick winced at the formality, but knew he deserved it.  This woman was the reincarnation of Lady Ardath, and three thousand years later, he finally realized that when Ardath was truly furious, past the goblet-throwing stage, she became downright icy.  Just as Celia was now behaving.

  "Well. . .first, I wanted to apologize.  I get. . .I turn into an ass when I'm worried.  And I was worried about Ardeth just now," Rick finally said.  He didn't know what else to say. I finally realized that you're the reincarnation of my best friend's lady, and I don't know how to deal with it, especially when I can't figure out why I haven't found the reincarnation of Rameses? As Ardeth would have said, I think not!

And Celia was looking rather dubious as well.  She folded her arms over her chest, then said quietly, "Mr. O'Connell. . .that's not what you brought me out here to discuss.  And since I have the strangest feeling that you won't tell me the truth, I'll check on my daughter.  This is only her first day in a strange place, and it might scare her when she takes a break from her training, to find that I'm gone.  If you'll excuse me?"  She brushed past him without another word, leaving Rick to stare after her in shock.  Oh yeah. Definitely Ardath's reincarnation.