Chapter Twelve: Doubts

***

Anck-su-namun walked across her bedchamber. It was richly decorated in gold, elaborate murals on the walls done with amazing detail and craftsmanship. She was so often in this room that she practically knew the designs by heart.

She paused by her vanity table and examined her face in the mirror. She was still beautiful, she thought with some satisfaction. But there were slight circles under her eyes, and her skin did not glow as it used to. It’s nothing, she told herself.

But Anck-su-namun knew that there was more to it than that. She had not been sleeping well. She did not do much sleeping when Imhotep was home, she thought with a small smile, but she did not sleep well when he was gone, either.

The truth was that she had nothing. She was bored. She wandered listlessly around the palace with nothing to do. And Imhotep was so often gone, keeping order in parts of the world or meeting with his advisors, that she did not even have him to keep her company. She sighed and turned away from the mirror, choosing to walk towards her balcony.

She was continually drawn to the balcony, her outlet to the world beyond her own. “What is the point of ruling the world if I do not get to see any of it?” she thought, surprised at the bitterness in her own thoughts.

Not too surprised, Anck-su-namun thought ruefully. The former concubine was always honest with herself, and she knew that she was not very happy here. And she felt guilty and horrible for not being happy.

Imhotep had sacrificed and sacrificed for her, doing everything he could to bring her back and satisfy her. He made her his Queen. He gave her a beautiful palace. And he loved her completely. So why couldn’t she be happy?

“Because you’re horrible,” she thought to herself, looking out over the expanses of desert sand. “You don’t deserve him.”

But she knew that the explanation was not that simple.

Why, she wondered to herself, isn’t love enough? Because she knew now that it wasn’t enough. He was the other half of her heart, but he was not making her happy. And part of the reason for her unhappiness was that she knew he had not told her the complete truth about their pasts.

“My Queen,” the servant girl said quietly, interrupting Anck-su-namun’s thoughts. She had a few serving girls, but they were frightened of her and Anck-su-namun did not really like to be around them.

“Yes?” she responded absentmindedly, not turning around but continuing to stare out into the desert.

“Pharaoh is returning.”

At those words, Anck-su-namun turned around. “He is?” she asked, her face breaking open with a smile of joy. When he was here, and they were together, she could be happy.

“Yes, my Queen,” the girl responded, standing impassively and waiting for her mistress’ instructions.

The servant girls had been required to learn how to speak basic Ancient Egyptian, and they knew how to form simple phrases and comments. But while basic communication was possible, they could discuss nothing more than what she should wear, where she was needed, when dinner was served, blah blah blah.

The simple problem of language kept Anck-su-namun alienated from almost everyone around her.

Anck-su-namun smiled, a genuine smile of happiness. “Well, help me into something suitable!” she exclaimed, pointing towards her chest of clothes. Although she did not understand all of the words, the servant girl understood the intent behind them and the hand gesture that accompanied them, and so immediately went to the chest and opened it.

Anck-su-namun shrugged off her normal dress as the girl took a few gowns out of the chest. “The gold one, my Queen? Pharaoh liked this one,” the girl suggested.

“Yes,” Anck-su-namun replied, stepping into the filmy fabric as the girl drew it over her shoulders and tied it around the Queen’s waist. She brushed her hair as Anck-su-namun quickly chose some gold jewelry–some bangles for her wrists, a pendant to fall to just above her breasts.

The girl finished arranging Anck-su-namun’s hair and stepped back, admiring her work. She nodded, smiling, and the Queen smiled back, a simple connection that left Anck-su-namun’s heart aching.

“Thank you, Aetella,” Anck-su-namun said, drawing her light shawl over her shoulders as she left the room for the main hall. She had renamed the girl because she could not pronounce her name, some horrible modern name that twisted her mouth and was lead on her tongue.

Anck-su-namun headed quickly for the throne room, which served as the main entry hall. It was huge with two golden thrones at one end. This was where Imhotep always came first and where he expected to meet her.

At the back entranceway Imhotep’s guards opened the doors immediately for her. As she came in, stepping out from behind the two thrones, she recoiled, her head filling with a momentary, unwanted vision.

Before her, it seemed, there was an army advancing. They were coming through the main entranceway, heading straight for her across the vast expanse of the hall. The people intended to harm her, but there was something odd about their movements–they were slow and awkward. She tried to move, but still they advanced, and in the pit of her stomach she knew that this was her doom.

But the image gleamed and rippled like a pool of water, fading suddenly and replaced only with Imhotep, walking surely towards her.

What had she seen? But she had no time to ponder it as he called out her name, his face beaming with joy.

“My love!” he called, moving quickly towards her still form. “What troubles you?” he asked just as he swept her into his arms.

All of her thoughts banished as Imhotep kissed her. He could always melt her with his passionate kisses, with his tender embraces. Their lips met and held and moved and Anck-su-namun could not believe that she had ever been unhappy with a man like Imhotep who loved her.

The kiss ended, but Imhotep kept his arm around her.

“How are you, my Anck-su-namun?” he asked, holding her as the two of them walked out of the main hall and towards their private chambers.

“Good, and you?” she responded unthinkingly, looking up into his eyes. He smiled lovingly down at her.

“Good, of course, as well,” he said, smiling. “It is so good to see you, I have missed you,” he said, mesmerizing her with his warm brown eyes.

But suddenly something within her snapped. She was not good. She wasn’t horrible, but why should she lie to him? He loved her, he could understand if she was not completely happy. She broke the embrace and moved a few steps away from him, turning her back to hide her churning emotions.

“My love?” Imhotep asked, moving towards her and placing his hands gently on her shoulders from behind.

She did not know what to say. How much could she admit? She did not want to hurt him or make him unhappy. Yet she wanted so badly to confess her troubled emotions. She wanted to explain what she was feeling, to lay her burdens on his shoulders. What could she say?

“Who is Meela?”

That was not what she had meant to ask. There was silence behind her. “What?” Imhotep asked aloud, surprise evident in his voice.

She could not turn around. “Why did I know the boy’s name, even before it was spoken aloud? Why did I seem to know all of these people before?”

Again, silence behind her. His hands gently massaged her shoulders. “Because you knew them in Ancient times, my love. Of course they would seem familiar.”

She turned around, looking up into his eyes. “Imhotep, please. That does not explain who Meela is, or why I knew the boy. He was no one in the past, and you know it.”

Imhotep sighed. “How did you hear about Meela?”

Anck-su-namun looked down. “I heard Nefertiri mentioning her name. And it sounded so...eerily familar.”

Imhotep hesitated. After a moment he sighed. He did not want to keep the truth from her, she who was the other half of his soul. She deserved better. And he knew that if he was in her place, he would need to know the truth.

“Meela was you,” he said heavily. He turned and sat down on a nearby couch. “Meela was you.”

“What?” Anck-su-namun asked incredulously.

“I have faced Nefertiri and her husband before. Twice before, in fact. The first time I did not recognize their souls, I had not awakened for three thousand years, I was confused. But the second time...you awakened me.”

“I do not understand,” Anck-su-namun said, sitting gently beside Imhotep on the couch. She was so glad to have him tell her the truth. She caressed his hands as he spoke, trusting him completely.

“You were reincarnated as Meela, a woman who had your features but not your soul. She was part of you, of course, and you a part of her, but...you would remember nothing that happened within her body.”

Anck-su-namun shook her head, trying to digest this new information. “So Nefertiri and her husband knew you before in their current lifetimes, that is why they recognized you...and me.”

Imhotep nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Anck-su-namun leaned towards him, reaching her hand up and gently stroking his face. “So what happened to us that second time?”

So Imhotep told her. He left nothing out. He related every detail, including Meela’s murder of Nefertiri, her relationship with the boy. And by the time he got to the end of the story, Anck-su-namun was crying.

“I ran from you?” she whispered in shame. “Oh my love, Imhotep, I will never forgive myself.”

“You must forgive yourself,” Imhotep insisted, holding her tightly. “I knew that it was not you. I forgave you even as I fell to my death.”

“But a part of me was in there, it was a part of me that betrayed you.” Anck-su-namun hung her head in shame, the tears slowly cascading down her bronze cheeks.

“As there is evil in every person, there is some in you. Meela was a bad woman combined with all of your worst attributes. It was not your fault. It was not you. Know that always, my Queen.” Imhotep gently brushed her tears away. He loved her so much and he did not wish to cause her any more pain.

“Then why did you kill yourself?” Anck-su-namun asked, looking up into his eyes.

“You were lost to me in that life. Our time together was over. There was nothing more I could have done.”

“I shall never forgive myself,” Anck-su-namun insisted, crying onto Imhotep’s muscled shoulder.

They held each other for hours like that, just crying and rocking and comforting each other. Imhotep was glad that he could finally share the truth with her, and he knew that she was strong enough to overcome her feelings of guilt. And, inside, he was a tiny bit pleased that she was so broken by her actions. After all, she had hurt him terribly. And this reaffirmation of her love warmed Imhotep’s heart.

In contrast, Anck-su-namun was miserable. She had finally learned the truth, but it was not what she had wanted to hear. She had betrayed Imhotep in the worst possible moment. She had been a cold, callous woman who had murdered without a thought. She deserved death, or worse. And Imhotep was just so forgiving! It broke her heart even more.

She owed him everything, and still she was not happy? Her guilt increased by the second. “You worthless whore,” she thought to herself. “He has given you everything, you have betrayed him and he has forgiven you, and you are still not happy.” She could not lift her head to meet Imhotep’s eyes, she was so filled with shame.

***

“My sweet....” Imhotep began, slowly untangling himself from her arms. “I must check with my advisors before we dine, there is much I must catch up on.” He stood, looking down at her. She was beautiful, her eyes wet and luminous, her hair slightly tousled. “I love you, and I will see you tonight at dinner.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

He was about to leave when something stopped him. “You see, my love, what Nefertiri and the Med Jai have done to us in the past. They have beaten us not only in our first lives, but in every reincarnation. This is our time.” And Imhotep’s eyes filled with an intense light. “It is time for our triumph. The Gods have given me an almost divine rule. I own the world. That is what we deserve, this is our revenge.”

He paused, his eyes dark with hatred. “They will pay. I have not decided yet how they will be punished, but I will see to it. They will pay for driving us apart.”

With a last look at her reclining form, Imhotep strode out of the room.

***

Anck-su-namun watched Imhotep’s broad back disappear out of the chamber. She was so confused. She did not know what to do. She loved Imhotep more than anything. But suddenly she began to have serious doubts.

This man was a changed Imhotep. This Imhotep was different. She remembered how, in Ancient times, he was a man who would kill only for her love. He murdered Seti to set her free. Now, he killed for pleasure. He killed innocent people who were trying to defend their country. He enslaved thousands of others. This could not, Anck-su-namun decided, be right.

But look what you did to him, she thought. As Meela you betrayed him. You hardened and hurt his soul. Maybe you are the cause. Maybe your betrayal had made him so bitter and angry inside that he will stop at nothing.

Anck-su-namun moaned in agony and covered her head with her hands. She was so confused. She knew this couldn’t be right, and yet she loved Imhotep beyond imagining. She disagreed with his actions and yet she might herself be the cause of them. Her heart twisted in pain.

But suddenly, another horrible thought entered her mind. What if he was not a different Imhotep in mind but a different Imhotep in body? Everything she had been taught about Med Jai curses told her that, perhaps, Imhotep was not completely the same person he was in ancient times. He was Imhotep, but was someone new, a side of him dark and unholy. In him now was unnatural evil, a part of him she had never known.

She shivered, suddenly fearful.

Her thoughts turned to Nefertiri, the woman who she was supposedly having her revenge on. It was completely joyless. And seeing the love between Alex and Evy, Anck-su-namun wondered if this was not truly a punishment. Maybe the Gods were not on Imhotep’s side at all. Maybe they were on the side of the Princess and the Med Jai. After all, hadn’t Imhotep lost three times in the past? Why would the Gods suddenly change their minds?

Anck-su-namun cowered on the couch, clutching herself in indecision, fear, love, and guilt. What do I do? she wondered.

***