Author: Sam

Story: Revenge of the Mummy: 2 of ?

Series: n/a

Setting: Egypt 1930's

Author's Note: The books and movies differ on a few points, most notably concerning whose gunshot saved Ardeth Bay from the warrior in the jungle in the sequel. Thus, for reference to that scene, I have chosen to go with the movie (Jonathan), rather than the book (Evy).

Second Note: In some Arabic communities, especially before World War II, if a woman was violated, or lost her virginity before marriage, it was considered offensive and shameful for the entire family, including cousins. Thus, these women were often put to death, as per their customs and beliefs. This practice is reflected in this story, and the author asks you to not judge the custom, but to accept it as a part of a different society in a different era. Thank you.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

Upon leaving the tent, Jonathan became immediately aware of a subtle change in atmosphere. Subtlety never being one of his strong suits, he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that felt different. Like before, the encampment was in tatters and several robed figures on foot confronted many more on horseback. Even the dark-robed figure of Sahara Bay, Medjai wrap across her face disguising her veil, seemed to be the same. Somehow, though, there was a definite change in... well something.

The Englishman quickly followed the woman, keeping a wary eye on the riders and their mounts. He didn't want to leave Sahara unprotected... a determined thought, which would have surprised everyone, including himself, at any other time. He also didn't want to come up on the wrong end of those scimitars, though. Thus, it was several long minutes before he realized that no one was acting in the least ways threatening to anyone else. It was only when the leader of the battle-weary Medjai slid from his stallion that it became wholly evident to Jonathan just why everyone else seemed on such friendly terms.

Ardeth Bay, dark-hair loose, features set against the pain of untended wounds, had shock in his deep brown eyes. He looked quickly around the ruins of his home, one injured hand settling firmly on the hilt of his scimitar. When his eyes came to rest on the four figures coming from his own tent, one dressed in the robes of a Chief-in-Training, the man shook his head and continued to watch their progress with a grim look.

He seemed to stare at Jonathan the longest, making the man want to squirm and grin sheepishly. It was with a flash of panic that the forty-year-old wondered if the younger man somehow knew that Sahara had tended his nude torso. A light flush suffused his lean features and he couldn't seem to bring his eyes to meet Ardeth's for any length of time.

"Ardeth Bay, come inside and rest." Sahara's melodious voice called out in accented English, and all knew that she was making an effort for the benefit of the visitors. "You have much to hear, My Chieftain."

With a gesture of dismissal towards his riders, only one tenth of the vast returning force, and those on foot who had crowded around, the warrior moved towards his home. Ardeth nodded without word to the Englishman and his party and slipped in to the tent; he was apparently relieved when he noted Alex sitting there, watching the opening anxiously.

Jonathan and the others turned and made their way after the dark-robed warrior. When they got inside, Ardeth finally nodded to Sahara, who had once more slipped out of her borrowed robes, exposing the more traditional woman's garb. The group watched as the Medjai Chief sank to the ground. "My friends, you did not return in the air vehicle?" Sahara knelt to start tending his wounds, and he allowed her, stripping to the waist for her.

"We couldn't," Jonathan replied simply. "Too much weight after that crash. Izzy landed us here and flew on to Cairo for repairs." He sank onto a torn pillow, unable to remove his eyes from the graceful movements of the pretty Bedouin woman, despite the fact that he might be noticed and endangered by his confusing infatuation.

Surprised, Ardeth *did* notice the man's riveted eyes on Sahara. He looked down at her, let his eyes slip back to Jonathan then moved them back to the woman at his side. Frowning slightly, the man studied her, trying to see what had Jonathan so... entranced. All he saw at first was the woman he'd grown up with: delicate hands, soothing voice, hypnotic eyes... suddenly Ardeth realized something. Even with the covering veil, Sahara was beautiful... and her pregnancy seemed only to add to her inner glow of health and serenity. The man turned his head to stare directly at Jonathan, frowning further, not liking the idea that the Englishman was that attracted to the Egyptian woman.

For his part, however, Jonathan was momentarily unaware of Ardeth's sudden mood shift. He continued to watch Sahara's movements, taking in each gesture, truly entranced by this gentle, remarkable woman. Unfortunately, the atmosphere threatened to get unpleasant.

Rick thankfully interrupted. "Your cousin Ibrahim's been trying to overthrow you while you've been out playing with immortals, Ardeth. Something we can help you with?" The adventurer sat on the edge of Ardeth's bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them.

Ardeth turned, eyes reluctantly withdrawing from Jonathan and raking the tent before settling on his old friend. "It is not something you can help fix, O'Connell. I have long expected Ibrahim to do such a thing." His voice was as tired as he appeared. Dealing with an uprising by his cousin before recovering from the last battle seemed the last thing the Chief wanted to do, but he must protect his people.

"I notice he didn't help out with Anubis' Warriors." Rick nodded having figured he wouldn't be permitted to join this fight... at least not that easily. "Great time to call in sick to work."

"Ibrahim and his followers do not believe in the history we are here to defend against. They," Ardeth smiled slightly, "do not believe in ancient curses, my friend."

A snort indicated that Rick well remembered the time when he, too, didn't believe.

Evy jumped into the conversation, moving to finish the bandaging on Jonathan that had been started in Ardeth's absence. "He'll be back, Ardeth."

Her movement had finally succeeded in drawing her brother's attention from the Egyptian woman across the tent. Jonathan had no idea, really, what the conversation was about. He knew it was something intense, but his entire attention had been focused on Sahara. Therefore, in order to appear as if he'd been interested in the discussion and not the pretty Egyptian, he nodded with a grim look, making a noncommittal sound in his throat. It seemed appropriate, as no one stared at him oddly.

Standing, giving an absent smile of gratitude to Sahara for her ministrations even as he prevented her from finishing them, the dark-haired warrior moved to look out the tent opening. He studied the horizon, the other tents, and the people moving about their business. "Yes. And the Chief of the Ten Tribes will support him in this."

"What!"

Rick and Jonathan had joined their voices to Evy's in shock and protest, or rather downright confusion on the part of the Englishman.

Ardeth sighed. He turned to his friends, his eyes as serious as his words. "Ibrahim has long contended that I am not able to defend my people, that I have spent my life chasing legends. He is the son of the chief before me, and as such has a valid claim to lead. Ibrahim will have also attacked the other encampments, proving that we should have left warriors behind, as he suggested, instead of bringing all of them to fight the Warriors of Anubis. The other tribes will support his claim when they see what has happened in our absence."

Sahara's hand on his wrist made him turn his attention to her. "Ardeth, you will not be safe while he is Chief." Her voice showed real fear, a sound Ardeth hadn't heard since the day she had returned from Ibrahim's camp, three months ago. Anger at the thought still threatened to overcome his good sense. If it had not been for the recent extended absence he'd been forced to take, things certainly would have been different concerning what his cousin had done to Sahara. Naturally, the others were not aware of the man's feelings, except for the intense frown on his face... and that was a fairly normal expression for the Medjai as far as Jonathan was concerned.

"I will have to live with the results. You are who will need protecting, Sahara."

The woman frowned behind her veil; they could see it in her eyes. She lowered her head and reached to finish bandaging the deep gash across Ardeth's arm. Silence reigned as she quickly worked, but it was broken just as quickly when she was done. "Then we will leave, Ardeth. They will ask a year to test Ibrahim in the duties of Chief. We will return when that year is ended."

Evy opened her mouth as if to protest, but Rick stayed her with a slight shake of his blond head. Jonathan, however, felt only elation that the woman would leave this godforsaken desert. His normally quick mind worked feverishly to come up with a way of convincing Sahara... and of course Ardeth... to journey with them back to England. Usually he used his wits to aid him in his less-than-honest dealings, but this seemed suddenly more important than any con he'd pulled in the past.

The forty-year-old didn't seem aware, therefore, of how the suggestion to leave grated on Ardeth Bay. To leave his people, his home, to the man who would so callously destroy everything was nothing short of physical torment for the Chief, and his words relayed that as much as his tone. "I cannot ask you to leave your home, Sahara." The man tested the bandage absently. Jonathan wanted to protest such a high-handed declaration.

Sahara took Ardeth's arm in a firm grip, breaking all known codes of public behavior for the desert people, shocking the four witnesses to this display. "No! Do not ask me to stay here under his control!" Even more surprising to the watchers, the woman dropped to her knees and took the man's injured hands. "Please, Ardeth, I beg of you. I may have gone to his camp willingly, but do not punish my folly in this way. He will finish what he started; he will kill us both. I would rather die by your hand if I must die." Her entire body shook in fear, tears streaming from those lovely eyes, as she pleaded with him.

Heart going out to her, Jonathan began to rise from the pillow he was seated on. He began to reach a hand out, but felt a quick slap on the wrist. The nerve! His eyes widened in surprise, drawing his attention away and to his sister, who was frowning as she watched the scene unfolding. It was something none of them should see, but none of them wanted to be the one to interrupt it, either. It was truly an awkward situation, and Jonathan reluctantly let it continue to play out.

Ardeth dropped to his own knees and encircled the veiled woman with his arms. "Quiet, Sahara, I will not let him hurt you again." His voice rang with as much emotion, anger and pain, as hers had. "We will leave. We will travel for a year and return when the testing is done." The warrior gently rocked the weeping woman; both seemed to have forgotten the presence of the four onlookers completely, both unaware that they had continued speaking in English the entire time.

It was an embarrassing scene, even if it was touching. Evy finally pulled her eyes away, wrapping an arm around her husband and tapping her son to interrupt his own staring. Jonathan, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the good sense to pretend he wasn't there. Instead, he cleared his throat and finally asked "I say, what do you mean she has to die?" His voice was indignant, as was his suddenly stiffened stance.

A frown crossed Ardeth's face and he pulled away from Sahara. Turning to his friends, letting the woman move off out of their direct gaze, he shook his head. "Some things, Jonathan, outsiders cannot understand. Your ways are not our ways." He turned from the glaring Englishman and swiftly left the tent.

It was many tense minutes later when Ardeth slipped back into the tent. He seemed to note the discontent and anger in Jonathan, the withdrawal of Sahara, and the general air of unease in his remaining guests. After the trials he had been through, Ardeth certainly didn't want to put up with this kind of atmosphere at home. Making a quick decision, he moved to stand near Jonathan, touching his arm lightly.

"Jonathan, Sahara will not die."

The Englishman turned, still frowning, but definitely alert. He wanted this explanation and would not interrupt now, though every fiber of his being seemed to scream at him to challenge Ardeth for the right to protect the woman. After all, it seemed the Chieftain wasn't doing a very good job, was he?

Ardeth continued, unaware of the direction his guest's thoughts had turned, "Our people value the honor of a woman as much as that of a man. Sahara," he glanced at the corner where she sat then back at Jonathan, "went to Ibrahim's camp to bring peace and unity. He... dishonored that trust. It is my duty to give her the honor of death if she is ruined in life." Sahara's quiet sob wrenched his heart, but he relentlessly continued. "However, Ibrahim is the one who defiled her, the one who betrayed us, Jonathan; she will not die for a sin she did not commit."

Understanding was often slow for the Englishman, but this time it seemed to hit quickly. In fact, it came just as quickly as it did to the other three listeners. As Jonathan stepped back, horror in his eyes, Evy turned towards Sahara and Rick growled low. Alex didn't stay silent, not fully understanding everything said.

"Ardeth? Did Ibrahim... hurt her?" His voice was worried and it was apparent he liked the gentle Egyptian woman.

The Medjai knelt painfully by Alex. He had never been one to mince words, even to a child, and he would not begin now. Let his parents explain the horrors of men; the boy had already seen the horrors of immortals. "Yes. He raped her, Alex." The words were harsh and filled with the rage of three months futile waiting for the vengence he had not yet had. Ardeth again found himself fighting the desire to ride out and confront his cousin for what had occurred.

"That bastard!" Jonathan's epitaph summed up everyone's feelings in two words.

A steely hand on the older man's arm prevented him from doing anything rash. As he jumped and shot a quick glare at Ardeth, the younger warrior shook his head. "You can do nothing to him, Jonathan. Try to understand. He is beyond your reach."

"How can you let that beast become Chief, Ardeth?" There was confusion and anger in the Englishman's voice. "He bloody well doesn't deserve it after all he's done."

Letting go of his arm, Ardeth shook his head sadly at his friend. "It is our way. Not the way of Egypt, but the way of the Medjai. We must leave before he returns. Come..."

The sound of a horse neighing and stamping alerted them that it was already too late. Ibrahim and his raiding party had returned once more. It was as if a signal had sounded inside the tent. All six occupants moved as one towards the opening, silence weighing heavily in the chill night air.