Sekhemkhet's Promise Pt. 01

Hey everybody! I know I said that the first one would likely be a one-off, but honestly, I can't stop thinking about ways to develop it and so many people have asked for another so I couldn't resist!! Here's the first part of the second chapter - it's turning out to be a hell of a long one. No sexy times in this particular part, but Part two will be coming in a few weeks so don't worry :)

Also, I'm a stickler for historical correctness so please, please ignore anything that just doesn't add up!

*****

The journey home from Egypt was arduous for Anabeth. She felt as though she were surrounded by shadows and couldn't speak to anyone about it.

The boat journey home was miraculously calm - on the way there the sea had been wild and terrifying, leaving Beth feeling sickly and weak. However, God must have been smiling upon them, for their return took only one week, despite having to sail around Europe, rather than take a train across. Beth's father, Edward, didn't trust trains in non-English speaking countries. He had told Beth that they were filthy and full of evil.

They had spent only two days in Cairo - a place which Anabeth now adored - so that Edward could speak to several of the British ambassadors there, before moving to Alexandria and then returning home. It was the Egyptian's right to house the findings of Sekhemkhet's tomb first, as the artefacts were found in their country, however Edward had been assured by the Colonials that the British Museum in London would be handed the pieces for an exhibition after one year.

Beth found it difficult not to marvel at the fact that she was walking in the same city that Pharaohs once had. The lives that must have been lived on the very soil that she stood on were a wonder to her.

Now, when Anabeth was standing at the railings, looking down on London from the Thames while the ship docked, she could hardly reconcile that the beautiful cities of Alexandria and Cairo and the smog riddled streets of London were on the same planet. She could scarcely make out the people waiting at the bottom - there were so many, and they were packed together so tightly. She was sure, however, that Robert would be among them, most likely holding a large bouquet of flowers. Beth briefly wondered if she could pretend to faint and get carried off the boat without having to speak to him.

There were going to be reporters from the newspapers, hoping to be the first to speak to the great Edward Brightbury, explorer, curator, and archaeological genius. Beth tried not to be bitter about it. Sekhemkhet's tomb was technically her find.

Edward and Charles were the first off the boat with Anabeth following meekly behind. The reporters would not be interested in what she had to say. She was well dressed, but not fashionable enough for news. She was intelligent, but she was not a man. She was opinionated, but not a Suffragist. For all intents and purposes, Anabeth was invisible to most of the world.

"Darling!" Robert stepped around the men with cameras.

At thirty-two years old, Robert was a short man, though very handsome, and his bouquet dwarfed him, making it difficult to spot him behind others. He was a barrister, earning a high wage and a pristine spot in the upper-middle class, making him a great partner for Anabeth. She was unsure, however, how a man so intent upon marrying the first pretty girl he saw was still single at thirty-two.

"That's really not necessary," Anabeth whispered to Robert when he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. To say that she was even slightly interested in the man would have been a gross overstatement.

"Nonsense!" He bellowed, attracting attention to them. One of the reporters seemed very interested in this exchange and asked her father about it.

"Ah, yes, this is my daughter, Anabeth. She accompanied us to Egypt. She has an interest in history and likes to watch us work." Beth had to grit her teeth to stop herself from mentioning that she did plenty of the work herself. Her father would have been furious.

"And the gentleman beside her?"

"Robert Wishaw, barrister at the High Courts, and future son-in-law to this wonderful gentleman," Robert introduced himself, gesturing to Edward who jovially laughed along with him.

Not if I have any say in it, Anabeth thought, horrified that Robert would take such a liberty without her consent.

Without her father or brother, Anabeth carried on to the carriage that was waiting, not yet loaded with the luggage.

It took just under an hour for her father and brother to join her and the carriage to actually start the journey back to their home in Upper Brook Street, between Grosvenor square and Hyde park. A fashionable place to live, with easy access to areas for taking a walk, and so close to the museum for her father that it takes him only fifteen minutes to arrive in the morning.

Anabeth felt a terrible sense of melancholy, as they passed through the less well-off streets. London may as well have been one giant slum for how appealing it was to her now.

From the moment that Anabeth crossed the threshold of her house she felt a chill that she would never banish. It was as though all the heat had been sucked out of the building and only a stale, damp air remained. The walls, though hung with tapestries and paintings, seemed dull and worn. The house was nothing as she had remembered it. Everything lacked lustre.

At night Anabeth awoke in the early hours of the morning, unable to tell dream from reality. The walls around her would pulse and shine with gold as they had in the tomb, but they were still the walls of her own bedroom. She would hear whispers in languages foreign to her, beckoning her to follow them, and still she was unable to move. This was the only time that Anabeth could feel true warmth surging through her - the only time she felt content, though she was scared. These dreams would seem so vivid to her in the moment and yet when she awoke in the morning she would scarcely be able to remember them.

This continued for a week - the feeling of being oppressed by her home - and only lessened when she was asleep or outside. It was fortunate that she had so many social engagements to keep her occupied. Her book group, which her mother insisted she attend, was very eager to hear of Egypt, even though Beth had been there less than a week, but more eager to hear about Robert and whether or not he had mentioned a proposal.

In actual fact, Anabeth hadn't heard from Robert since he had met her at the docks. It was a welcome surprise, but strange all the same. The man hadn't been able to leave her be for more than two days for the last four months.

Beth had little time to dwell on this fact, however, as at the end of her first week home an illness began to take grip. She suffered from sickness and dizziness for most of her waking hours, though it never interrupted her sleep. It only took two days for her mother to call the doctor to their home.

Doctor Richards was an elderly man who, as far as he had told her, had seen everything. Unlike many of the doctors that she had been forced to endure, Dr Richards was a kindly looking soul. He did not ask her to take her night shift off, he simply did his examination above it.

"Remind me of your symptoms," he asked, pressing his fingers into her abdomen and rocking them gently. When he had first heard the symptoms his first question was whether or not Anabeth was married. When her mother informed him that she was not, his eyes narrowed. Beth was worried, but she couldn't possibly be with child. It had been a dream back in Egypt - there was no other explanation.

"Sickness and dizziness," Beth's mother replied for her. "And she becomes gripped with this fear at times. It's as though she were hallucinating."

Anabeth could not bring herself to voice what that fear was of. She would be committed to the asylum if they were to know.

"Any nightmares?" The doctor asked in a quieter voice, allowing Beth to answer for herself.

"Yes. I wake up at night sometimes and I can't move. I hear voices talking to me and then I fall asleep again." A tear escaped the side of her eye. Hearing voices wasn't something one admitted to easily - especially not in a foreign language that she didn't understand. She'd heard stories of people speaking in tongues.

"Well then," Dr Richards pulled away, packing his bag. "There's nothing too abnormal here. It seems like the tail end of seasickness to me."

Anabeth strained to keep her face neutral, but she was laughing on the inside. How could a man who had been in the medical profession for so many years believe that a woman was seasick over a week after getting off a boat? It was nonsensical.

Not one to question a man's authority, Anabeth's mother nodded her head vigorously. "She has expressed her wish to never board a boat again. She never used to be afraid of the sea."

I said that as soon as I arrived home! Anabeth wanted to scream. When you asked me how the boat ride there had been.

"Jolly good," the doctor looked pleased, as though he couldn't bear the thought that perhaps she was with child, and he might have to break that sort of news to a family with such delusions of grandeur. "You'll have your land legs back again by tomorrow, I should think. If not," Dr Richards gave her a very pointed look, "give me a call and I'll look into other causes for your ailment."

The next day, Anabeth forced herself to ignore her dizziness and maintain a look of composure. The sickness could not be helped, but so long as no one found out, she could deceive them all and reiterate the doctor's diagnosis.

Time passed as normal, though Beth did not think of her sickness - perhaps it was just the change in the water, or something off that she had eaten - for a few days, until Anabeth was asked to meet her mother for tea in the drawing room - something which only happened on a special occasion.

"Anabeth, you may want to sit down." Her mother looked grave. At once a fear crept up inside Beth for her father and brothers.

Beth dutifully took a seat on the chaise-longue across from her mother, smoothing out her skirts as she sat.

"It's Robert." Her mother stated very simply. A wave of relief washed over Beth as the possibilities ran through her head. Perhaps he has found another woman that he prefers. Mother would consider that to be a tragedy. "He has been taken to an asylum."

Anabeth's jaw dropped open. She must have heard wrong. "For what?" She breathed. Robert had been an imbecile, but he was far from mad.

Her mother sighed as though it was painful for her to recall the details. That woman lived for anything dramatic. "It began with hallucinations, his mother told me. He was frightened for a few days and he said that he kept seeing hippos everywhere. They thought at first that it was just a fever, but it got worse. He spent four days without eating or leaving his bed. He was speaking in tongues, Anabeth. They took him to a hospital and tried everything for a week. It only got worse. The doctors have declared him insane."

Anabeth couldn't speak. Hippos - just like the statue in Egypt. Tawaret - the hippopotamus goddess who watched over pregnant women. Beth tried to swat the thought away, but it was too much to be a coincidence. All of this was too much to be coincidence. Which left her with only one option.

What happened in Egypt must have been real. The dreams, the whispers, and everything since must be real.

Anabeth jumped when she felt her mother's hand close over her own.

"He asked for you," her mother told her. "He wanted to make sure you were safe. You were the only person he could think of, apparently."

"Excuse me," Anabeth stood suddenly, fleeing the room. She had to throw up. This was lunacy. Pure and utter lunacy.

Anabeth took to her bed for two days after that. This time it was declared as shock, but Beth was worried that it was just the beginning of her own madness.

Her real ailment was more difficult for her to accept. Being with child would ruin her - no matter how implausible the situation that caused it. She would be sent to 'the countryside' and the child would be taken from her. It had happened many times before and to other girls of better standing than herself.

Being saved from her fate seemed impossible. Until she was brought out of her stupor by a letter from Egypt.

Anabeth was called to her father's study where Edward and her mother were waiting for her. Neither of them seemed very happy.

"Take a seat, Anabeth," her mother said, giving Beth a terrible feeling of déjà vu.

"We have received word of the artefacts from the correspondent in Egypt," Edward told her, not waiting for her to sit down.

"That's wonderful," Beth replied, though in truth she wished that she'd never hear of Egypt, or that trip, or a certain dead Pharaoh, ever again.

Her mother shook her head, very slightly. A sign, that she had used since Anabeth was a child, that Beth should be quiet. Edward didn't look happy.

"It's not good news for us," Edward ran his fingers over the letter in front of him. "A gentleman has come forward as a descendant of the Pharaoh and has laid claim to the contents of the tomb as well as the tomb itself. The government should be in possession of the tomb and all of its contents. There couldn't reasonably be a clear descendant - it's been thousands of years since Sekhemkhet died. It's the British government for God's sake, how can they not just overrule this?" Edward's fist smashed down on top of the letter.

There was a long silence as he tried to rein in his temper. If someone laid claim to the artefacts then it might mean that they wanted them restored to the tomb, meaning that the British Museum would never see them. Even if they were not returned to the tomb, there was a chance that the new owner wouldn't want to lease them to the British, meaning that Edward's work and glory would be ruined.

"So, there is a new claim?" Anabeth gently asked her father. He looked to her and nodded.

"So, it would seem. Or so the government believes, at least."

The silence began again. Beth's mother did not speak - perhaps afraid of Edward, or, more likely, unwilling to go beyond her place as the silent wife.

"Forgive me father," Anabeth broke the silence. "I don't understand how this concerns me."

Edward nodded a few times, bringing himself to speak. Her mother put her hand on his shoulder, as though to provide support.

"The new owner heard a rumour from one of our experts that it was in fact you," Edward looked at Anabeth accusingly, "who found the tomb. Not me, not Charles, not the experts. You."

Once again Anabeth found herself biting her tongue. Well it was me, Father! She wanted to scream.

"I'm so sorry," she apologised, knowing that she really shouldn't have to, but Edward was a proud man - this sort of a rumour would upset him greatly if anyone found out.

Edward waved his hand dismissively. "The gentleman wants you to travel to Egypt again. He claims that if any more correspondence must be made about the tomb to the British, then it must be to the person who found it. And it must be in person."

Anabeth almost laughed. He couldn't be serious. Nothing would get her to travel back there.

"We have decided that you will go," Her mother spoke for the first time. Anabeth looked at them with shock. Now they couldn't be serious. "It will be good for you to get away from here - from the memory of Robert. And," Her mother continued before Beth could voice her disdain for Robert, "it will be a great help to your father."

"How?" Anabeth looked to her father for some help. "What can I do that Charles cannot? Can we not send him and explain the mistake?"

"No," Edward replied. "It has to be you. He was very clear on that."

"The gentleman has refused to send the artefacts to London unless your father complies with his wishes." Her mother spoke up again.

"Unless I comply with his wishes, you mean!" Anabeth couldn't stop herself from rebutting.

Edward's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. "You will go, Anabeth, and you will write to me every day - every development, every little detail will be relayed to me. You will then deny any accusation that I did not find the tomb myself and you will return home."

"I will not," Anabeth spoke back to her father. "I will not go back there - I am just home!"

Three days later, Beth was leaving London again. Her mother had taken pity on her and demanded a train from France to the South of Italy so that Anabeth would only have to endure a boat for a day or two - lest her awful 'seasickness' return.

This time there was no Robert waving her off. No father or brother by her side to keep her company. There was only Mr Banks - her guardian for the trip, who was to watch her every move. Every time she spoke to someone he was to be there, making sure that she did not say the wrong thing. Anabeth believed that her father was mostly worried that she would tell someone that he had not actually found the tomb, but his warning, that if she did then she would have no home to come back to, was enough for her to stay quiet.

The journey as a whole was relatively quick - it would have been faster to just go by ship, but the train had been much more comfortable, and the countryside that Beth passed through was stunning - and they arrived in Cairo just after dinner time. Anabeth couldn't help but feel as though she would have been much happier without Mr Banks breathing down her neck and speaking for her, most of the time. That was until they reached Cairo and disembarked from the train.

Anabeth had been surrounded by strange men, pointing at her long, light brown hair, and gesturing to her pale skin. Instead of making Anabeth feel proud of her good looks, she felt cheapened and degraded, as though her beauty was something to be ashamed of.

These people had never bothered her when she had been with her father and brother and an entourage of other British men, but now, when she looked alone, she was fair game.

Mr Banks simply came and took her arm. They didn't move but the men stopped talking and dispersed, sending disdainful looks over their shoulders.

"You cannot be too careful in this area of the world," Mr Banks told her, surprising her with his Scottish accent. She'd never heard him speak before.

"What were they saying?"

"They wanted to know where your male guardian was. They wanted to marry you to one of their families. One of them wanted to sell you."

Anabeth looked at him, mouth agape. "You speak Arabic?"

"Of course, I do," Mr Banks laughed. "How else will I know what people are saying behind our backs."

"Miss Brightbury?" An English voice called. Anabeth turned to see a man coming from the main road where a horse and carriage were waiting. "And Mr Banks, I presume," the man shook hands with Mr Banks. "I'm Peter Carter, your guide here in Egypt. Let me show you to my carriage."

Anabeth was surprised that news of their arrival had beaten them to Egypt. She began to wonder if her father had agreed to her return before he had even told her.

"You'll be staying at the Darnley household - wonderful family, come from Birmingham, I believe. They've lived here for twelve years now in a beautiful area. One of the first areas that the British lived in when Egypt was colonized, in fact."

Peter continued to babble on about the wonderful house they'd be staying in, but Anabeth had stopped listening. It was difficult to focus on what he was saying when she had so many more pressing matters on her mind. It had been a matter of weeks and yet Beth could swear that she could see a slight swell in her belly. If she was kept here for any amount of time, then she may be able to play it off as some sort of a foreign disease and leave the child with a family here. No one need know. Otherwise she would have to return home and endure the wrath of her family.