Desert Rose (Book One of The Medjai Saga)

Chapter Ten: A Flight to Remember

Language Key: Arabic, English, Ancient Egyptian

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They followed the dark tunnels until the emerged streets away, light from a holey grate alerting them to their exit. Ardeth had kept a firm grip on Molly's hand, not wanting to lose her in the dark twists and turns. When they emerged onto an empty street, sunlight was only beginning to break. There was no sign of Imhotep's followers, yet they made their way carefully back to where they had crashed the car.

The square was empty, yet Dr. Bey's body lay in the square where he'd attempted to fight the followers off. As Rick and Jonathan attempted to move the car from where it had climbed up onto the fountain, Ardeth and Molly tended to Dr. Bey's body.

Molly retrieved a large woven cloth from one of the surviving stalls as Ardeth prayed over his friend's body, scimitar tight in his grip. Molly recognised it as a Dua; an Arabic prayer for the deceased.

Ardeth's voice solemn and low, "Oh Allah, this son of a servant of yours is now in need of Your mercy and You are not in need of punishing that person. If he was pious then increase his rewards, and if he was a transgressor then pardon him."

They wrapped his body and could do not much more but leave him there until they returned, hoping no one would disturb the body.

With the car back on four wheels and flat on the ground, they piled in and set off. Rick and Jonathan sat in the front, and Molly and Ardeth in the back. Ardeth seemed withdrawn.

"He is with Allah now," Molly assured him, and he looked at her, "He is safe."

Even though she didn't follow his faith, let alone any, she knew the comfort of her words. She could see that hidden compassion so clearly now and he nodded, solemn. She took his hand, squeezing it gently, and a weight seemed to lift off his shoulders, his chest. She leaned forward, towards her brother.

"How do we get there in time?" Molly questioned, "This car isn't making it through the desert that's for sure and we don't have any horses or camels."

"We're flying," Rick answered.

"Flying?" she questioned, stunned.

He nodded, glancing at her so quickly she almost missed it, "Yes, with the help of an old friend."

An old friend? She wondered. The only person she knew in the area who spoke English and could fly was an old kook pilot who had seen better days and had fought in the war. She saw him often at the bar, spinning tales of his wartime experiences. At first she'd been fascinated, listening from afar, but had soon grown tired of his stories.

She sighed, "Please don't tell me it's the old pommy air force kook from the Casbah."

Rick drew a breath in through his teeth, the sound hissing, "Uh yeah..."

She let out an exasperated breath, brushing her hair back, "Oh god, we'll be lucky if he isn't passed out drunk somewhere."

"Then you'll fly us, father taught you," Jonathan cut in

Rick looked to her then, his eyes wide at the knowledge that Jonathan had just share, but quickly turned his eyes back on the road.

"That's beside the point, Jonathan," Molly stated, her fingers tight on the leather seat back, "And I haven't flown in four years."

"Don't worry, he'll be there," Rick assured them.

‡