Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) (24 page)

           
Her
head began to pound and she reached for her skin of water thinking it might be
thirst that she just wasn’t recognizing.

           
With
her head splitting and waves of light nausea crashing over her, she worked to
distract herself by thinking of how Julia behaved with the nomads.
Was it possible to change so much in such a
short period of time? Was Julia being drugged? Was she poisoned from the sun?
Had she just gone mad from British inbreeding?
Before Julia began running
to Ammon’s tent every night, she had at least been a companion in this
misadventure. She was someone to scheme with whose future prospects were tightly
aligned with Ella’s own. That all came to an abrupt stop when Julia became the
leader’s woman. And then there was Ella’s pregnancy. Whatever friendship they had
shared up until then altered when Julia found out Ella was pregnant. Whether it
was envy or just that mysterious estrangement women who have never been with
child must feel, Julia had emotionally separated herself from Ella.

           
It
was hard enough to be out in the middle of nowhere held hostage by a primitive
band of nomadic thugs. But to be pregnant, alone
and
a lifetime away from the man you loved was nearly unendurable.

           
Make
that
two
lifetimes.

           
A
sound shook Ella out of her thoughts. She had been riding for at least three
hours and in all that time she had heard neither bird nor animal, just the
steady sound of her horse’s hooves against rock. She scanned the horizon. She
was closed in on one side by bushes and the endless sandy desert behind her.
Ahead of her, the ground was rockier and flatter, a sure sign in Ella’s mind,
that she was riding away from the desert and toward cultivated fields and the
river.

           
In
a panic, she applied her heels hard to her horse. He jerked to attention and
launched forward into a gallop. She twined her fingers through his mane and
gripped the reins. She hung on desperately as the horse careened down the path
in front of her, spraying sharp rocks and pebbles behind him and up against her
bare legs. She knew that to fall off at this speed would surely be fatal.

           
Oh, please, oh, please
, she found
herself praying as she neared the hilltop.
Let
the river be there. For my baby…

           
She
felt her horse’s hind haunches gather for the energetic boost up the incline
and she braced to stay on him as he charged up the hill. She heard nothing but
the wind and the pounding of her own heart in her ears. As she sailed over the
hill and began the wild descent down the other side, there was only desert
before her unbroken by the green line of the Nile she so desperately longed to
see. Just then, a rider appeared out of nowhere, directly in front of her. He
wheeled his horse into her path, his Arabian robes flowing wildly about him in
the stiff breeze, forcing her to veer off the trail.

           
Heaving
with the exertion and oblivious to her frantic kicking to get him to run again,
her horse sank to his knees on the ground. Ella jumped free at the last moment
and scrambled away from the thrashing animal. The lone rider who had blocked
her path dismounted and was striding toward her. Ella could see now that there
were others with him.

           
With
her hands and knees cut and bleeding, Ella sat on the ground, stunned, as the
small group watched the large gelding quiver and then lie still. Slowly, Ammon
turned his gaze on Ella.

           
It
was a gaze full of fury and murderous intent.

Chapter Sixteen

           
The
ride back to the nomad’s camp was long and painful. Ella sat once more across
Ammon’s lap. He gripped her tightly as they rode. At one point, Ella was sure she
must have fainted. The sun beat down mercilesslly on the small band. Perhaps
because they had just seen what the heat had done to their biggest, hardiest horse,
they rode slowly. It was late afternoon when they arrived back at camp. Julia
and the other women were standing at the edge of camp waiting for them.

           
Ammon
grabbed Ella by the arm and lowered her to the ground. Her legs promptly gave
way beneath her and she sagged to a sitting position by the horse’s feet. Julia
ran to her but with a sharp word from Ammon, she stopped and simply stood
watching. Seeing the worried look in Julia’s eyes, Ella feared she must look
like how she felt: close to death. One of the Bedouin men had offered her water
before loading her up for the ride, but Ella had not been thirsty. For a
change, lack of water in the desert had not been the undoing of her. She still
had half a skin of water when they caught her.

           
Ammon
dismounted, threw Ella over his shoulder and stalked to the center of the camp.
Ella was so exhausted that she took no notice of what people were doing. But in
the back of her mind she could hear the women scurrying around, gathering the
children, and greeting the other men.

           
Julia
ran to Ammon as he deposited Ella on the ground by the five-foot tall wooden
post jammed into the center of the camp. She grabbed the sleeve of his robe and
Ella could feel her friend’s fear rippling off her in waves. Seeing Julia so
frantic awakened something in Ella and she began to panic too.

           
“You
can’t do this, Ammon!” Julia shouted. “She is with child! She is
ana
 
hamel
!”

           
Ella
watched Ammon shove Julia away so hard she fell down. Julia jumped up
immediately and ran to face him again. When Ella saw her friend plead for her,
her hands began to shake.

           
“I
won’t let you do this!” Julia shouted. Ammon barked an order to his men. Two
men grabbed Julia and dragged her to where the other women stood. Ella could
hear Julia’s screams give way to sobs. It suddenly occurred to her that she was
going to be killed. She twisted her head around to see if Ammon was wielding
his large
khopesh
for the beheading
and the fear pushed into her from every side.

           
She
began to scream.

           
Ammon
wrenched Ella to her feet and pushed her face-first into the post. He wasn’t as
tall as Rowan and when he came around to the other side of the post to jerk her
hands around it to tie them, she could easily look into his eyes to see the
wild anger there. And something else.
Humiliation
.
She had embarrassed him in front of his people and now she would die a gruesome
death in order to raise him back up.

           
Ella
knew she was powerless. She placed her cheek against the harsh splinters of the
post to wait for whatever would come. She thought of Rowan going through his
daily round back in Dothan, hurt and wondering why she hadn’t come home. She
thought of their unborn child, the one Rowan would never know about—safe for
now, tucked away from the harsh realities of the world in the cushioning pillow
of her body. She found that above all else she was most sorry to have failed
this little being who depended on her for life. She closed her eyes and tried
to block out the sounds of Julia’s sobs and her own ragged breaths as she
waited.
 

           
Ammon
disappeared behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. The gesture startled
Ella and she opened her eyes. He ripped her blouse from her body. She caught
the motion out of the corner of her eye as he flung the shirt aside. The sun
had gone down an hour earlier and Ella felt a cold breeze on her naked back and
shoulders. It was then she knew she would live.

           
Her
moment of relief was short lasting. The first lash felt like a white-hot poker
lancing her tender skin in a prolonged, sizzling agony. She heard the sound of the
whip as its long tail raced through the air and hit her high on her shoulder,
tracing a line of fire all the way to her bare hip. She screamed and clutched
the pole in front of her. The second lash came quickly behind the first,
hitting her lower but biting into her with equal ferocity. Ella felt her knees
give way with the brutality of the second lash but Ammon had tied her tightly
to the post. Her secured arms were forced to support her body as she collapsed
from the pain. After the second lash, Ella stopped hearing Julia’s hysteria or the
jeers and laughter from the surrounding crowd. She only heard the whistle of
the lash as it tore through the air before it assaulted her on her vulnerable, naked
back. She felt and would remember every stroke that split open her back in
jagged lines of agony. The pain encompassed her whole world—blotting out
sight and sound—but she found she couldn’t faint. She couldn’t find
release from the hell of what Ammon was doing to her. As she tensed against the
seemingly endless onslaught, she felt the lashes—not quite as strong
now—targeting lower down on her body. The last five strokes were dealt
expertly and solidly against her backside and legs—both protected by her
khaki trousers.

           
When
twelve lashes had been administered, she waited—quivering, her heart
racing, her legs still supporting her by leaning against the post—as Ammon
flung down the whip. She forced herself to look him in the eye as he untied her
hands. That seemed to startle him but he returned her gaze. She could swear she
saw the barest upturn on the corner of his lips as he looked at her. By God,
there it was.
Respect
.

Before she could
fall he caught her in his arms and carried her to her tent.

           
The
movement of being carried so swiftly away, combined with the fact that he
deposited her face down on her sleeping pallet, produced a terrible wave of
nausea in Ella. She wasn’t sick but her head spun as if the tent had been
picked up by a whirling maelstrom and she was in the center of it. The smell of
him in the small tent was overpowering so she knew when he had left by the
sudden absence of the choking rank odor. The next thing she felt were cool
fingers brush her hair from her damp forehead as Julia murmured to her.

           
“It’s
okay, Ella,” she said. “It’s over now. You’re going to be okay.”

           
Her
back and shoulders were ablaze with pain, each stripe competing with the other
for dominance of agony. They crisscrossed in vicious raised welts, some bloody,
the rest just angry and swollen. She bit the dirty cloth pallet when Julia
touched her shoulder and stifled her scream even though only Julia would care.
Julia dabbed an unguent on Ella’s wounds.

           
“How
do you feel, Ella?” Julia whispered. But Ella didn’t answer. She was alive. Anything
beyond that would be a lie. She wasn’t good. She wasn’t fine. She was only alive.
She thought of the baby.
We are alive
,
and the thought nearly brought a smile to her face.

           
That
night she slept fitfully, her back in constant pain. She couldn’t eat or drink,
her head felt like jackhammers where operating from the inside. Before she finally
fell into a fevered sleep, she noted that Gita had joined Julia and her last
thought before oblivion was that maybe she was going to die after all.

           
When
her broken and beaten body finally succumbed to the effects of the torturous
day, Ella fell into a deep and troubled dream. The camp was quiet and she was
alone in her tent. Suddenly, the tent flap opened and Rowan entered. He knelt
by her bed and helped her to a sitting position.

           
“Rowan,
you’re here,” she said, tears mingling with her words. “You’re here in Egypt.”

           
“Not
only that, babe,” he said, his grin reassuring and familiar. “I’m here in
1922.”

           
“I
don’t even care how it happened,” Ella said. She fell into his arms and realized
her back didn’t hurt any more. “I’m just so glad you’re here. I have so much to
tell you, Rowan. So much has happened. I’ve been such a fool. Can you ever
forgive me and give me a second chance?”

           
“Are
you kidding? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

           
“Rowan,
I have something to tell you.” Ella pulled away but held him at arm’s length.
“We’re going to have a baby.”

           
She
watched him as a slow grin spread across his face. “Are you sure?” he said,
glancing down at her stomach.

           
“Yes.
Are you cool with that?”

           
In
answer, he took her into his arms and kissed her like she hadn’t remembered him
doing since Heidelberg.

           
“I
love you, Rowan,” she said, so happy she thought she’d faint.

           
“I
love you, too, Ella,” he said, kissing her again. “Looks like we’re a family.”

Howard Carter’s Camp, the
Valley of the Kings

           
Rowan
woke with a start. A line of perspiration had broken out across his brow. He
watched the moon through the flap of his tent and felt an overwhelming
disappointment filter through him.

           
Just a dream. It had seemed so real. Ella
had been so
….

           
He
sat up in bed and felt the excitement of his dream and his tumultuous thoughts
ricochet around in his head.

           
She’s
pregnant.

           
He
wanted to jump out of bed, pull on clothes and resume the search immediately.
Not only was she alive, she was pregnant
with their child.
Dream or not, he knew this as surely as he knew anything.

           
Whatever
else might happen from here on, he had to do whatever was necessary to find her
and bring her home. There was a baby now.

*
                                 
*
                                 
*
                                 
*

           
Julia
knelt by Ella and soaked a wet cloth in a basin.

“Who is
Rowan
?” she asked.

           
“Why?
Have you heard something?”
 

           
“You
said his name while you were in your fever.”

           
Julia
placed the wet cloth gently on Ella’s head. Ella was still lying on her
stomach, her face turned toward Julia.

           
“He’s
my husband,” Ella said.

           
“I’m
so sorry, Ella. I really am. I tried to calm Ammon but he just went berserk. For
a minute there, I thought he was going to kill you.”
     

           
“For
a minute there, I did, too.”

           
“Since
they won’t touch you because of your condition, I didn’t think he would
beat
you like that.”

           
“Well,
now we know it’s less about protecting the baby and more about keeping
themselves untainted.”

           
“How
do you feel?”

           
“About
how I look, I imagine. If it’s any consolation, Julia, I could feel him trying
not to hurt me too bad.”

           
“I’m
so sorry, Ella. When he found out you were gone, he just went insane.”

           
“Did
he hurt you?”

           
Julia
shook her head. “No. But I was afraid.”

           
“Julia,
you have to help me.”

           
“Of
course, Ella, anything. Do you want more water? Gita gave me a salve that I put
on the cuts. It smells awful, but I…”

           
“You
have to help me escape, Julia.”

           
“Ella,
no! He’ll kill you next time! You can’t do this again.”

           
“I
have to,” Ella said. “My baby.” She raised up on one elbow. “I need to get back
to my own time,” she said. “My own world. I can’t have him born out here.”

           
“America
isn’t the only place with modern hospitals,” Julia said. “Besides, Gita has
delivered lots of babies. And I’ll be here to help. You’ll be fine.”