Only The Beginning
By
Christine Hall
Title: Only the Beginning
Author: Christina Hall, aka Trillium
Rating: R for violence, sexual situations, and the usual bad attitudes
Special thanks to Kao Vang for editing and many good suggestions
Disclaimer: The Mummy and the characters therein are the property of
Universal Studios.
No infringement intended. I am making no money off of
this.
Chapter 10
The day they had selected for the execution of their plan came all
too soon. Just as a Pharaoh prepares for his death by filling his tomb with
beautiful and useful objects, Anak-sun-amun prepared that morning by asking
her maids to paint a particularly lovely design upon her body. And it was a
work of art- stripes angled inward covered her legs, accentuating their
shapeliness, a fishnet pattern on her torso gave the impression that she was
wearing a skin-tight dress, and ornate scrolled shapes decorated her arms
and neck. With a sense of solemn finality, she put on her best jewelry and
adorned her hair with strands of glass beads. And at the appointed time,
when the Pharaoh had left with his bodyguards to inspect the construction of
the new Temple to Amun-Ra on the other side of the city, she went to the
Pharaoh's chambers. Imhotep and his most loyal priests should already be
there, having arrived at the palace earlier in inconspicuous twos and
threes, and slipped into the chamber when no one was looking. They would
wait until the Pharaoh returned, and then they would do what must be done.
Anak-sun-amun pushed open the ornate doors and walked through the
outer chamber. Imhotep's gold-painted priests were indeed there, lining the
room, still as statues but for their gleaming eyes. Their presence
comforted her, even though she did not know any of them personally. Imhotep
was quite sure that they were all completely loyal to him, so Anak-sum-amun
trusted them, too. Their eyes following her as she made her way through the
room were a little unnerving, though, and she quickened her steps to the
inner chamber. Behind her, several of the priests broke their pose to make
sure that the doors were shut.
Imhotep was standing on the balcony when she went through the
curtain, but he quickly turned around and went to her. Anak-sun-amun
marveled all over again that this beautiful, powerful man should love her,
and so much that he was willing to defy both his king and the gods to be
with her. Something like a sob caught in her throat, and she lifted her
hand and brushed her fingertips over his face, memorizing his high
cheekbones, full, sensual lips, and limitless dark eyes, now so serious, but
which she knew were accentuated by laugh lines when he smiled. She promised
herself that no matter how long she remained in the underworld, she would
not forget the slightest detail!
With infinite tenderness, Imhotep cupped her face in his large,
competent hands and kissed her. He was almost tentative at first, as he had
been the first time they ever kissed in the Temple of Osiris, but the
pressure of his lips sent sweet fire coursing through Anak-sun-amun's entire
being, and she leaned into him, demanding more. One of his hands dropped to
her shoulder and smeared the paint there as he caressed her skin. Then
there was a sudden commotion in the outer room and they broke the kiss,
listening for the source of the noise.
It was Pharaoh, his authoritative voice unmistakable. "What are you
doing here?" he demanded of the priests. They did not answer him, but only
shut and barred the doors as they had been told to do, and his footsteps
continued inexorably toward the curtain.
So soon? Was her death really come upon her this quickly? She had
thought they would have some time to spend together first! And how could
Pharaoh have known, anyway? Had they been betrayed? Fear stabbed at her
guts like a weapon colder than the real one she would shortly have to use.
"It will be all right," Imhotep said softly, and he withdrew a knife
from his robe and handed it to her, then went and hid behind a large chair.
Pharaoh flung the curtain back, only to find Anak-sun-amun alone,
leaning casually against a sculpture. She put on her best coy, innocent
smile, even though she was sure that Pharaoh could hear the pounding of her
heart, and see through her to the knife she concealed behind her back.
For a moment Pharaoh seemed to relax, but then his eyes dropped from
her face to her left shoulder.
"Who has touched you?" he cried, pointing, livid with rage.
Anak-sun-amun looked down, confused, saw that the paint was smeared quite
noticeably, and only then remembered that Imhotep had touched her there.
She could not think of anything to say; her mouth felt dry and she wished
more than anything for someone to come and rescue her. Fortunately, Imhotep
did.
He stepped soundlessly out of his hiding place behind the Pharaoh, a
demon looking for revenge. Anak-sun-amun eyed his looming form gratefully,
and the Pharaoh followed her eyes and turned around. With a scrape of metal
Imhotep drew the sword from the Seti's own belt and held it up pointedly.
"Imhotep!" he gasped. "My priest!" Realization colored his face as,
in that second, he understood the connection between them. And he was too
shocked even to move.
Anak-sun-amun, however, was not. Eyes locked with her lover's, she
raised the dagger high, and brought it down with all her strength into the
ruler's shoulder. Blood gushed up, spilling onto the fine marble floor, the
red river increasing as the sword also found its mark. Seti looked at them,
eyes wide, frightened, incredulous. Despite the crown on his head, he was
not the ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt now. He was a mere man, facing
imminent death, knowing the depth of his betrayal, and not able to do
anything about it.
It was a sight Anak-sun-amun had wanted to see for a long time.
Automatically she kept stabbing, taking an unholy joy in violating his body
as he had violated hers. Finally Seti lay still, but now there was a
banging noise in the outer chamber, as though a ram were being applied to
the door. Anak-sun-amun and Imhotep both froze and looked toward the
curtain.
"Pharaoh's bodyguards!" exclaimed Imhotep. It could be no others.
"You must go! Save yourself!" The resistant look on Imhotep's face
was making Anak-sun-amun nervous.
"No!"
"Only you can resurrect me!" She cried, desperate now. She did not
want him to leave, it broke her heart to think about it, but if they were
both captured it would do them no good at all. Imhotep's priests came
hurrying in, and in the same second the outer door was opened with a crash
and the heavy footsteps of the Med-jai began to cross the room. The priests
surrounded Imhotep, trying to pull their superior out onto the balcony to
their escape.
"Get away from me!" he cried, shaking them off like a lion in the
midst of a group of jackals, turning back to Anak-sun-amun. "I won't leave
you!"
A wave of tenderness so strong it could have knocked her over washed
over Anak-sun-amun, and she reached out to touch his face again, knowing
full well that if anything went wrong, it could be the last time ever. He
did not return the gesture, for both of his elbows were held firmly by his
priests, and he was finally allowing himself to be dragged out onto the
balcony.
"You shall live again! I will resurrect you!" he avowed, holding
her eyes until he disappeared from sight around the corner.
Resolutely Anak-sun-amun turned back to the curtain. In an instant
it was ripped aside, and the black-clad Med-jai stormed in, swords drawn.
They came to an abrupt halt when they saw the carnage in the room. They had
expected to find their Pharaoh in danger, needing to be rescued, but not a
bloody corpse on the floor, presided over by a slim, scared-looking
concubine holding a knife.
She must act now, before they regained their wits. The death she
would bring to herself was merciful, but the Med-jai would not be nearly so
kind if they captured her. Eyeing the stunned warriors defiantly, she
raised the knife again.
"My body is no longer his temple!" She cried, putting all her
hatred for the dead man into her voice. And before she could think about it
any further, she plunged the knife into her stomach as far as it would go.
It was shocking, she thought, to realize that the new blood now
spilling on the floor was hers, her own life force seeping out from around
the knife hilt, between her helpless fingers. There was pain, but it was
quickly overcome by the numbness and chill spreading from her extremities to
seize her vital organs. Her vision blurred, and she slumped to the floor,
but she held the image of Imhotep constant in her mind for as long as she
could, even as the dark closed in.
I will wait for you, my treasure, she thought, trying to project her
last thoughts out to him. I will wait as long as it takes.
The End
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