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PART TWO
Tell-El-Amarna, Egypt, 1897
"Love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter." -T.S. Eliot
Jack struggled to bite back a laugh at this absurdly gloomy pronouncement.
Really, Daniel's deprecating honesty was too damned appealing for his safety or
Jack's peace of mind. "They'll work if I pay them enough," he argued cynically.
"No scholar of repute would sell himself in such a manner!" Daniel argued hotly,
his nose wrinkling in disgust at the very notion.
"We're not all idealists," Jack hinted, including himself in that. He wondered
if a trip to Cairo would prove fruitful. There would be difficulties in
progressing with his wooing of Daniel if there were other people in the house,
but having the boy sleeping like the dead from exhaustion every night was
equally problematic.
"I don't think you understand the case," Daniel said firmly. "The archaeological
community is small and zealously guarded. It's the only instance in Egypt where
the French and English authorities conspire instead of competing. For example,
M. Mariette made it his business to exclude Egyptian students, refusing to
accept their admission to his friend Herr Brugsch's school or appointing them to
positions in the Antiquities Service. Several schools of Egyptology have been
started up and each has failed because M. Mariette would not employ the
graduates. He even forbade natives from copying hieroglyphic inscriptions,
instructing his guards to expel such persons from the museum!"
Daniel's compassionate indignation made Jack uneasily aware of the likely impact
of most of the revelations about his frequently difficult, damnable career in
the Cavalry. So far as he could tell, the Egyptians weren't rounded up and
herded like animals to reservations in the worst tracts of land the government
could find for them, and that was the very least of the incidents Jack had
witnessed or participated in.
He was troubled by his certainty that Daniel was not going to like most of what
he had to tell him about his past. Yet somehow, as bad as the truth would be,
Jack found the notion of lying to Daniel repugnant. It was unthinkable.
"M. Loret issues the firmans, the licences which allow an archaeologist to study
and excavate at any site in Egypt," Daniel explained earnestly. "There are no
unauthorised expeditions, excepting of course the illicit digging of the
natives, such as the men of Gurnah, who so assiduously supply the antiquities
dealers."
Daniel stepped closer to Jack, taking his forearm in a firm, admonishing clasp,
apparently feeling Jack wasn't reacting with sufficient gravity to his concerns.
Jack felt that Daniel should be encouraged to touch him at every opportunity and
returned the clasp with a persuasive one of his own.
"Any archaeologist foolish enough to assist me this season would find himself
refused a firman next season." Daniel admitted dolefully, then took a deep
breath and tilted his chin proudly. "I would not offer such a disservice to a
colleague."
"What exactly did you say to those people?" Jack wondered aloud. He failed to
resist the lure of Daniel's evident mortification, hugging him comfortingly
around the shoulders. His archaeologist appeared to appreciate this kind gesture
of fellowship. "Was it anything like what you just told me?"
Daniel sniffed disdainfully, but demurely mischievous eyes gave him away. "There
is also the issue of excavating techniques," he murmured dulcetly. "M. Mariette
had a tendency to use dynamite to clear the entrances to tombs," he observed
judiciously.
"I'm sure you expressed your appreciation suitably," Jack said sympathetically.
"So you're persona non grata in the archaeological community, are you?"
"I did try to explain this to you," Daniel reminded him a trifle anxiously.
"I won't have anyone but you," Jack promised instantly, extravagantly generous
with what was after all merely the literal truth. He was enchanted by the shy,
singularly sweet smile Daniel rewarded him with. "Are you familiar with
diplomacy?"
"It's the art of lying tactfully."
Jack grinned at his unrepentant archaeologist, who, sadly, shrugged him off and
went over to investigate a heap of rubble by the road. Daniel turned, a torrent
of fluent Arabic pouring out of him. Jack was shocked to see a horde of young
boys, mere children, come running in response with large baskets and loud,
laughing excuses, clustering around Daniel as he gently scolded them. They
dashed over to fill up their baskets with rubble and filed up the road in twos
and threes, their light, chirping voices rising above the steady chink of metal
on stone as the men toiled in the trenches.
"You employ children?" Jack demanded with cold disapproval. Children in America
shared their parents' chores but that was to help out family, a matter of
necessity if not outright survival. No child was denied the right to schooling,
though! Every man was created equal, every man had the right to educate and
better himself. Jack was stunned to see Daniel of all people tolerating the
exploitation of those least able to defend themselves. He was more shocked than
angry, but it was there, adding a dark edge to his thoughts.
Daniel quirked an eyebrow quizzically. "I could leave them begging for baksheesh
and going hungry in the village, if you prefer?" he suggested coolly.
"Their parents," Jack began to argue.
"Are working," Daniel interrupted, gesturing expansively at his industrious men.
"I pay the children as generous a wage as I - you - can afford and I feed them
to be sure they don't go hungry, no matter the distress of their families." He
strode off, looking back almost angrily over his shoulder. "I wish I could do
more for the women and girls but they're treated as the property of their
families, denied every opportunity for education, independence and advancement,
their only option to marry. It isn't my choice to employ the children, but the
alternatives are worse. I do not exploit them, of that you may be certain."
Jack's ire was disconcertingly disarmed by the fine eyes sparking fire at him.
"I wasn't judging, Daniel."
"You were," Daniel retorted, though his face and tone softened. "I did too," he
admitted candidly. "I am no happier about the expedience or the morality of the
situation now than I was on my first visit to Egypt, but truly, I - we - have no
choice, Jack."
"Then I'll be guided by you," Jack responded, not entirely convincingly, his
regretful gaze lingering on the now distant children.
Daniel refused to waste time on an issue he could do nothing to resolve, instead
plunging in among the men to issue new orders. A boy was dispatched to retrieve
the theodolite from the expedition tent and in a very short space of time, Jack
somehow found himself stationed out in the sand holding a stick, gloomily
enacting a ritual he hadn't had to endure since his days at the military
academy. He had always preferred horses – and dogs – to engineering. Embracing
the cavalry instead of the infantry or artillery had not required much in the
way of soul searching on his part. By the time of his graduation, he would have
done anything to avoid days like this one.
Polite, emphatic orders were called to him, he obeyed, appreciatively watching
Daniel in his element, dimly aware of Kasuf and several others hammering in
stakes and carefully stringing thin ropes between them to mark out the neat,
symmetrical grid.
Jack was pleased to see the young master had an easy manner with his men. They
indulged his puppyish enthusiasm but followed his orders with an alacrity that
showed their respect for his abilities. Daniel was also happy to take questions,
to offer explanations and to listen. Jack had seen many a green lieutenant do
far worse with his troop.
The day passed in a haze of heat, brackish drinks to ease his parched throat and
wash away the worst of the sweat and dust while the men chipped carefully away
at the dry soil and rubble beneath a blazing sky. Most of all, there was
achingly slow, patient, back-breaking work and the tireless energy of Daniel,
carrying his men and a watchful Jack with him.
"That was a good day's work," Daniel happily told Jack as they arrived with the
setting sun back at the expedition house. "I feel that we're making progress."
"The men sure strung a lot of rope," Jack agreed, as noncommittal about the
detail as possible. "And tomorrow they start to dig those test trenches you were
talking about, right?"
"That's right." Daniel smiled at Jack, pleased he was beginning to find his way
about the excavation.
The servants came forward to greet them pleasantly. Jack had been told their
names but couldn't bring them to mind. He made sure to smile at them, but hung
back while they had a modest, friendly talk with Daniel about the proposed menu
for dinner and told the two men they would find warmed water waiting for them in
the bathroom adjoining both of their rooms. Mina, that was the name of the older
woman, the cook and housekeeper. The girl was Nadia, her daughter.
Jack asked Daniel if they needed to hire more servants for the house, more
workers in general. Daniel's quick, grateful look made him glad he'd thought to
make the offer.
"I try to make as little work for them as possible," Daniel confided as he led
the way into the bathroom. "General Hammond of course employed a larger staff to
tend to his needs. When his financial interests began to be affected by the
terrible drought blighting the American West, I was very happy to assure him I
could cope admirably with the aid of our cook Mina."
It was good of Daniel not to have kicked up a fuss or made the old man feel any
worse than he did about the reversal in his fortunes. Pleased by the tact Daniel
had willingly shown a proud man, Jack reached out impulsively to ruffle his
dusty hair.
Slipping out of his waistcoat, Daniel only smiled at him and began to unbutton
his thin, soiled shirt. Intent on the two copper bathtubs set side by side, he
paid little attention to Jack's presence.
Grateful for the masculine ease and camaraderie which were as much a part of an
English gentleman's life as that of any frontier yahoo, Jack stripped quickly
down to his skin and slid into the warm water, settling back to watch Daniel
through heavy-lidded eyes.
His Englishman had the same slender build as any hard-living Indian and the
respectable muscle of a man who worked. His face was as pretty, as disturbing as
before, but Jack looked at his lean body, flat belly and proud sex, and found in
Daniel the man. His reaction was immediate and physical; with this covetous
heaviness between his legs, he could only be glad to be immersed to his chest in
the cooling water. Comfortably indifferent to Jack's presence, distracted by his
own thoughts, Daniel slid into his waiting bathtub with a murmur of contentment.
"I think we might usefully employ an extra servant or two to help Mina and Nadia
with the heavy work," Daniel diffidently suggested to Jack as he began to wash.
"Perhaps a gardener to aid with the gathering of our fruit and vegetables. I
know the staff General Hammond employed from the village gave satisfaction in
all respects. Many of them were members of Mina's own family. If you will let
her know during dinner this evening that you wish to employ a larger staff, you
may safely leave it to her to make suitable appointments."
"If it means I get a hot bath instead of a lukewarm one, consider it done," Jack
said simply, unable to stop himself from watching the play of muscle in Daniel's
arms and chest as he rubbed away the pervasive dirt from the dig.
"Thank you," Daniel expressed his gratitude in a quick, low voice. "I can't tell
you how refreshing it is to meet with a man of intelligence and sense who
doesn't treat the Egyptians as an innately inferior breed to himself."
"I learned early in my career and to my cost not to underestimate a man based
solely on the colour of his skin," Jack responded dryly, splashing two great
handfuls of water over his face and hair. He began to soap himself, finding he
glanced at Daniel as often as he was himself looked at. There was a wondering
curiosity on Daniel's face, an eagerness to learn Jack couldn't find intrusive.
Daniel wasn't asking anything of him, only hoping Jack would choose to confide.
"Let's make a deal," Jack offered brusquely. "Let's be friends, you and me."
"I would like that very much, Jack," Daniel agreed with quiet, unassuming
pleasure.
"In my book, friends can ask questions of each other," Jack went on in a
friendly way. "I can ask you to tell me something about your life, you can ask
me to tell you something about my life and we don't need to worry that we're
getting in each other's way. So, if you have a question?"
"I always have questions."
"So ask."
"If I may, what was it like to live among the Apache?" Daniel enquired brightly,
emerging from the tub.
Jack looked at the water streaming over the planes of his body and found he
couldn't look away, though he should. Even in these times of casual, open
affection between men there were limits, lines that must not be crossed. Jack
fully intended to cross all of them but signalling that his interest in Daniel
was already too strong was a misstep. He knew it. Still, he couldn't look away,
his gaze fixed on the small of Daniel's back, the curve of his waist and tight
swell of his buttocks as he towelled himself dry. What Jack saw in this man, he
wanted.
"Jack?" Daniel queried. "The Apache?"
"They call themselves 'Inde'. People." Jack bought some time to recover his
composure, taking up the water pitcher to empty it over his dazed, greedy head
several times. "To everyone else, they're Apache. Literally the enemy. They've
been hostile for as long as they've been known to history. They're nomads, not
farmers, relying on hunting for game, gathering roots and berries, and when
necessary raiding among the Pueblo Indians and the whites to feed and support
themselves."
Daniel was busy dressing in the clean clothes laid out for him, giving Jack a
chance to dry himself roughly and scramble into his pants.
"It sounds as if you have some sympathy for them," Daniel said questioningly as
he began to turn up the sleeves of his clean shirt.
"I wouldn’t put it so strongly as sympathy," Jack denied. "I could see how their
traditions, their way of life, were threatened by confinement to a reservation,
but I also saw how they made war, the retribution they exacted for the deaths of
clan members in earlier raids and battles. They're matriarchal, you know. It was
forbidden for a man to marry within his own clan and expected that on his
marriage, he would fight for the interests of his mother-in-law's clan. If you
then force all the clans together?" He shot a dark, meaningful look at Daniel.
"You create a situation in which conflict is almost inevitable," Daniel deduced,
his expression thoughtful. "Is it not true the Apache are deeply religious?" He
waited politely while Jack finished dressing, his impatience to hear more only
showing in the quick hands smoothing his damp hair away from his face.
"They have Medicine Men, yes, and they believe in supernatural beings they call
Gans. The Gans are spirits of the air the Apache males impersonate in their
ritual dances to bring good luck to the people. Every occasion in the tribe is
marked by a feast and one of these dances. Sometimes, the Apache will dance to
cure sickness or keep away disease."
"You seem reluctant to speak of it," Daniel observed, greatly daring.
"I know my enemy," Jack replied, frowning as he ran rough hands through his own
rumpled hair. "I've learned what I needed to about Apache life but I guess what
I know best is death. I know how they fight, how a warrior's honour and wealth
came from success in raiding, how the kindness and gentleness they showed to
their own families was nothing compared to the cruelties they inflicted on their
enemies. They're not friends, Daniel. I couldn't make friends of men I was sent
to fight, of a people whose way of life I was meant to end."
Jack was braced for a hasty response, for anger, but it didn't come. Instead,
Daniel walked quietly at his side through the garden and took his place beside
him at the dining table without hesitation. There was a vertical crease between
his brows but he was calm and reflective. He was trying to understand Jack, not
judge him.
They were served minted lamb with vegetables and more of the fresh fruits. Jack
remembered to let Mina know he wanted to hire more staff and settled with her
she would bring in a younger sister and a cousin along with her nephew to tend
to their garden and the orchard.
All this time, Daniel was thinking. Then he looked up and offered Jack a
tentative smile. "I would give anything to be able to speak with the people I
study. To hear a language long-dead and learn about a culture my own countrymen
have helped tear down proof of. I'm as uncompromising in pursuit of my vocation
as I sense you have been in pursuit of yours. Am I to criticise, to judge you
because your vocation is that of soldier and mine is that of scholar? I am not
so naïve, so insular in my studies I cannot appreciate the people we are today
are founded upon both our victories and defeats in wars and territorial disputes
stretching back through time for as long as men have lived."
Jack, placidly chewing the strongly flavoured lamb, wondered if he'd ever had
conversations like these outside of the classrooms at West Point. He wondered
what it was to be a man who would think like this, to live your life always
questioning and reaching for more than you had.
"It was the Spanish and the English who first began to push the Indians back,"
Daniel said with calm certainty. "I do not mean to suggest that I accept or
approve what has been done to the Indian peoples, but when America exists as a
nation because of intolerance, persecution and poverty in England among many
other countries, I find it equally hard to condemn those seeking to settle the
West and carve out a life for themselves they've been denied elsewhere. The
policy of concentration is offensive to me, but it is at least honestly meant on
the part of your government. It is pragmatic, not evil, to confine the Indians
to reservations. Better confinement than eradication."
"Do you hate anyone?" Jack was staring.
"No," Daniel replied straight-forwardly, meeting Jack's challenging eyes. "I try
to be a better man than that."
"For what it's worth," Jack said rapidly, "I don't happen to think the only good
Indian is a dead Indian."
"I'm glad to hear it," Daniel smiled.
"I'm taking you out West," Jack decided. He wanted to see the high desert and
its people through Daniel's eyes.
"Oh, I should like that," Daniel said eagerly. "I should like that very much."
He applied himself to his dinner, no doubt thinking Jack's offer was made only
in the heat of the moment.
Jack would do it. He would take Daniel home.
"Tell me something about yourself," Jack ordered him.
Daniel's eyebrows arched quizzically as he glanced up from his meal. "I fear
there's little to tell. I attended school at Winchester College, continued my
formal education reading classics at Oxford University and then, as you've
already stated so colourfully, came here to Egypt in order to further the
science of philology and methodical archaeological excavation."
"You read and you dig? That's all you do? That's all you've ever done?" Jack
shook his head aggrievedly. "What kind of life is that, Daniel? Why haven't you
connected with the people around you instead of the ones that lie buried in the
past?"
"You assume the people around me wish to form a connection," Daniel snapped,
colouring.
"I like you!" Jack snapped back. "We don't have one single thing in common and I
like you just fine."
"You are unusual in that regard." Daniel pushed away his plate and got to his
feet. "Excuse me."
Jack stood up quickly and took hold of Daniel's shoulder before he could get
away. "Not so fast," he said smoothly. "You asked, I answered. Now I'm asking
and..."
"I am not obliged to answer questions which are entirely too personal in
nature," Daniel denied hastily. "I did not pry into private matters and I ask
you to give me the respect of..."
"Who let you down?" Jack asked, not knowing why he was certain, only that he
was. Daniel didn't run from these things! He might refuse to answer, but he
didn’t run only because someone had hurt him. "Daniel," Jack coaxed, turning
those resistant shoulders to take Daniel into a gentling clasp.
Stormy blue eyes fixed on Jack's, softening to a rueful twinkle. "Miss Sarah
Gardner," Daniel sighed, apparently not sure himself why he was answering only
because Jack asked it of him.
"Miss?" Jack bit off his sharp response, boiling mad at his instinctive refusal
to accept anyone else had a place in Daniel's life. He was shocked and ashamed
of his jealousy.
"Miss Gardner," Daniel confirmed. He didn't look miserable to Jack's searching
eyes, only stiff and reluctant. "We had...an understanding."
An understanding? No, Jack didn't want to hear this. He should've known Daniel's
face would turn more heads than his, but he hadn't been thinking straight since
he'd met the boy and he couldn’t control the knot of anger in his gut now. His
selfishly unreasoning stupidity only riled him more.
"When I became so markedly alienated from my peers," Daniel explained, looking
fixedly down at his feet and choosing his words with care. "When I in fact
became persona non grata in Cairo, Miss Gardner transferred her affections to
Dr. Steven Rayner, a former colleague of mine from Oxford." Daniel glanced up
fleetingly to see how Jack was taking this humiliating admission and immediately
became concerned. "Jack? Sir? Are you unwell? Perhaps the heat..."
Heat. God, yes. There was heat. Heat all through him since he'd met Daniel,
spreading faster than his fury. Going with his gut, Jack yanked Daniel into his
arms and kissed him hard on his impossibly tempting mouth. He touched smooth,
generous firmness that fit to him exactly; astonished, flinty resistance melting
to heartfelt softness, then firing into infuriated struggle.
Daniel kicked Jack viciously in the shin and when he let out a pained yelp and
went staggering back, hauled off and punched him hard in the jaw, a sweet
roundhouse that knocked him solidly against the dining table.
"How dare you!" Daniel spat at Jack, seething with rage and indignation. "Your
money may have bought my excavation but it did not buy me!" He turned hard on
his heel and stalked away, bristling with temper.
Letting the table hold him up, Jack stood where he was, nursing his throbbing
jaw. He was speechless with shock both at himself and at Daniel. He'd known the
man for only a day and he tried something like this with him? What was he
thinking? He'd never behaved with such insane recklessness in his life! What had
he been telling himself only last night about being careful with this
straight-laced English boy? And tonight he did this?
The more he thought about what had just happened, especially Daniel's part in
the scene, the funnier it got. Jack found himself laughing at his own rashness
and set off limping in the direction of the distant, heavily slammed door to
Daniel's bedroom. He was wholly in the wrong here and he owed the man an
apology.
He started out by knocking on the door instead of barging through it.
"Go away!"
Jack went in. He could hardly make his apologies if Daniel wouldn't talk to him,
could he?
Willingly abandoning verbal protests, Daniel bounced up from his bed and
advanced on Jack with both fists purposefully raised.
Jack put up his hands in apparent surrender. "I didn't know you could box," he
choked, far more amused now than he was embarrassed at his appalling lapse in
judgement.
"I box, fence and shoot as proficiently as any gentleman," Daniel snapped. "If
you require any further demonstration of my prowess I would be happy to oblige
you."
Jack rubbed his jaw ruefully. "No, I think you got me good with this one," he
retorted, grinning. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean, at least, I did mean – but not in
the way you think I mean..."
"You did not buy me," Daniel interrupted rudely, glaring. "Have I not made that
perfectly clear?"
"I didn't think I had bought you," Jack hastily attempted to explain himself. "I
swear it never crossed my mind."
"Do you think I am a fool?" Daniel accused him in outrage. "Do you think you are
the first to make such advances to me?"
"I think you're a virgin, yes," Jack replied with unflattering promptitude.
Daniel stiffened up alarmingly, his ruffled, malignant scowl proving
irresistibly appealing to Jack, who liked the people around him to show spirit.
"I would not be a virgin if I were half so naïve as you appear to think me!"
Daniel declared stormily. "I learned in the earliest days at my school to defend
myself against the bullies and the boys who would not willingly accept my
refusal of them."
"I'm not like that!" Jack argued vociferously, getting his own dander up at this
unwarranted parallel Daniel was drawing. "I've never forced anyone. I never
would!"
"No?" Daniel said derisively. "How am I to believe you when the proof of your
conduct is the opposite of what you claim to be the truth?"
"I made a mistake," Jack acknowledged wryly. A ludicrous tactical error from a
man who'd rarely planned a losing battle, proof positive his feelings were
engaged even if his head wasn't. "It won't happen again." Of this, Jack was
certain. He would be ignoring his gut from now on. He was trying to build a
friendship, not get himself a quick, meaningless tumble.
"On that we can agree!" Daniel said vehemently.
"Oh, I don't mean I won't be kissing you again," Jack calmly explained himself,
his sense of the ridiculous getting the better of him once more. "Because I
will. I only mean I won't, uh, pounce on you again. Not from ambush, anyways.
You'll see me coming next time I kiss you and I can't say fairer than that."
"I do not wish you to kiss me again!" Daniel stammered in breathless
infuriation.
"There was a moment there, a long moment, where you wanted nothing else," Jack
smiled reminiscently, clearly recalling the melting of Daniel's mouth and body
into his. From the baleful look being directed at him, it was clear Daniel
needed no reminders of this regrettable lapse on his part. Honesty was an
inconvenient character trait, Jack had found.
"I am not your property," Daniel stubbornly insisted, conveniently drawing the
battle lines for Jack.
"No," he replied coolly, sorry at least for making Daniel think this could be
the case when his independence was so very important to him. "I tend to think of
you as my equal. And as my friend."
"I do not know you well enough to judge and I can only say you have done little
thus far to prove yourself my friend."
"I know," Jack recognised his temporary defeat gracefully, preparing for a
strategic withdrawal to regroup. "I know the misstep I've taken here." He smiled
wolfishly at Daniel. "I can't wholly regret it, though, not when it means the
gloves are off and I can take you head-on in a fair fight. A good fight." The
more he thought on this, the better it sounded, and his smile widened into one
of relishing delight. "I give you my word that when I bed you, Daniel," Jack
promised faithfully, enjoyably tormenting his incensed opponent. "You'll want it
as much as I do."
"I do not want it at all," Daniel denied vigorously, glaring mutinously into
Jack's eyes, his long legs braced defiantly apart, tense fists balled tightly on
his hips. If Jack was listening to his unruly gut, he would have kissed Daniel
again for the hell of it.
"You will," Jack purred confidently, far more sure of his ground than he had
been.
Daniel's greatest objection was not to Jack demonstrating the desire he felt for
him but to inequity of their respective circumstances. It was likely he was too
angry and offended to quite realise this himself, but the moment would soon
come.
Probably after Jack's opening salvo in this entertaining war of theirs, which
would be to sign over the funds for the excavation in their entirety to Daniel's
sole discretion and control. Jack could not be accused of manipulating Daniel
through his financial power over him, not when he had willingly surrendered it.
"Yes," Jack decided, grinning broadly at his haughty English virgin. "Much
better to have at it this way, with all our cards on the table."
"You will not win this hand," Daniel warned him, glowering.
"Sure I will!" Jack crowed jubilantly. "I'm a good soldier, Daniel, and I'm only
fighting you. You're a scholar, not a soldier, and you have to fight the both of
us."
When Daniel cautiously emerged from his bedroom in the cool hour before dawn, he
found an insouciant Jack O'Neill waiting there for him with a decidedly teasing
grin and a disturbingly wicked light in his deep eyes.
"Sleep well?" Jack asked cheerfully.
"Very well, thank you."
Unfortunately this was true. Daniel had intended to think through his dilemma
and decide on a suitable course of punitive action to take against his
insufferable patron, but had fallen asleep while dwelling longingly on a
beguiling fantasy of shooting him dead where he stood.
If Daniel had only himself to think of, he would have happily called out the
colonel to answer for this affront to his dignity. However, discharging his many
duties and responsibilities for the excavation must always come before indulgent
personal pleasures such as killing his patron.
"This is for you," Jack informed him, putting a folded document into his hand.
The man looked so damnably pleased with himself, Daniel scented danger. He
opened the document warily and found it to be a power of attorney, granting him
full control in the disbursement of the exceedingly generous funds Colonel
O'Neill was donating to finance the season's excavation. Wide-eyed, Daniel
looked up at Jack uncertainly, not at all sure how he was supposed to react to
this extravagant gesture.
"I know it's not witnessed," Jack confessed his shortcomings heroically, "But I
figured you'd give me credit for making the effort and stating my intent."
Annoyingly, Jack had 'figured' Daniel correctly.
"Thank you." Daniel's expression of gratitude was brief but nonetheless sincere.
No matter the personal difficulties he was experiencing with his patron, the
security of the excavation and the employment so depended upon by the Abydonians
and the local people were assured. Some of the heaviness lifted from his chest
and he found he could meet Jack's intense eyes, fixed so challengingly on his.
"I never meant to hurt you," Jack promised him in return, with equal sincerity.
"But you do mean to have me," Daniel countered, feeling very much like a
participant in a theatrical melodrama. Or perhaps a farce.
Jack's smile smoothed into a purr of predatory pleasure which made Daniel's legs
tremble. Naturally, he stiffened his spine at once and attempted to stare Jack
down.
He had never wished to surrender to any of the aggressive or even affectionate
advances made to him by the boys or men who were older or simply more
experienced than himself. He did not know what it was about him that made him
such a masculine target, only that he had been sick with rage and dismay to find
Jack was among those who sought to take from him what he would not willingly
give. He had foolishly believed the professions of friendship Jack had made to
him. Torn between what Jack had done and the contradiction of what he insisted
was the truth behind his actions, Daniel found somewhat to his distress he still
wished to believe Jack was sincere. Jack O'Neill exercised a fascination over
him that he was by no means ready to give in to.
"You are not the first," Daniel said unsteadily, unable to prevent himself from
surrendering to a half-understood impulse to give Jack a fair opportunity to
make amends to him.
"I know." Jack's face gentled to a warm, compassionate look expressing only
understanding.
"You are not the first man," Daniel finished stoically, looking desperately down
at his feet. "When my isolation from my more respected peers began to be known –
if General Hammond had not been so kind as to grant me secure employment here?
There were...there were others eager to engage my 'services'." He would never be
so desperate as to accept an offer such as that. He could sell his labour
cheerfully, even gratefully, in return for the opportunity to go on with his
vocation, but not his body.
Jack startled him yet again by putting his arms tightly around him, pulling him
into a rough, friendly embrace that expressed the sympathetic anger he felt on
Daniel's behalf. Of course he would understand. A soldier must have seen the
very worst of men, experienced far greater iniquities than Daniel could imagine.
"Only when you want it," Jack promised again, his breath tickling Daniel's
cheek.
"I do not want anything," Daniel objected as sternly and unequivocally as he was
able, blushing as he pushed Jack away from him. He had to push with some force
for Jack was reluctant to let him go. The wicked light was back in his eyes when
Daniel held him off at arm's length.
"Kiss me," Jack invited softly, his mouth sultry. "We'll see what you want."
"I regret I must decline," Daniel denied him primly, having to swallow a sudden
lump in his dry throat. He fervently wished Jack wasn't making it quite so
apparent he was only humouring him in allowing him to fend him off. "I wish only
to continue with my excavation unimpeded by undue interference."
"I want to take you to bed with me unimpeded by the excavation," Jack riposted,
his leering, lascivious licking of his chops inviting Daniel to share the
teasing humour with him.
Daniel, too inquisitive and honest a scholar to omit from his reading the
references to the unspeakable vice of the Greeks at his tutor's behest, had an
all-too clear notion of just what Jack intended by taking him to bed. He found
himself unable to utter a word in response and was deeply offended when Jack
ruffled his hair fondly and kindly told him not to worry himself over it. He
didn't want Jack to be kind. He wanted Jack to be beaten!
He said as much. Jauntily, Jack wished him luck. Then he surprised Daniel with a
second valuable contribution to the excavation, bringing out a shining camera
and its accoutrements from his bedroom.
"I figured we could make good use of this," Jack said lightly, grinning at
Daniel's immediate, childish excitement. "It's a No.4 Cartridge Kodak," he
informed Daniel with a perfectly miserable attempt at modesty. "A new model,
very advanced, allowing me to use either the roll film or plates when taking my
photographs."
"What a wonderful thing this is. So small and fine," Daniel observed reverently,
greatly admiring the neat black leather case and the clever way the deep
ruby-red bellows could be used to extend the gleaming gold and black lens. "I
have wished for one of these!" he admitted delightedly.
"I have a Rochester folding plate camera too." Jack looked smug. "There were a
lot of photographers recording the Klondike gold rush for the newspapers back
east. It wasn't too difficult to find someone of professional standing to teach
me how to use the camera, how to obtain a good photograph in any circumstance,
and how to develop my plates."
"You have a dark room?" Daniel was genuinely impressed.
"We need only modify one of the smaller store rooms," Jack confirmed cheerfully,
still utterly failing to look modest at his accomplishments. "And I can begin."
"Do you know what this means to me?" Daniel was fired with possible applications
for this fascinating new technology.
"It means we can record the evidence from the dig in place as we find it," Jack
replied promptly. "The camera is so small and so light, I can use it almost any
place on the site." He carefully folded the camera back into its case. "You
could thank me."
"I do thank you." Daniel beamed at him. "Very much!"
"You could express your deep gratitude more suitably," Jack hinted broadly,
looking fixedly at Daniel's mouth.
"Certainly not."
Jack sighed.
"Would you be willing to take photographs of the stele I was telling you about
yesterday?" Daniel asked hopefully as they left the house to begin their
pleasant walk to the dig. "It will save me a great deal of valuable time if I
don't have to stop to make a detailed sketch of the hieroglyphics."
"Happy to."
"This is very good of you."
"I want the dig to succeed," Jack replied mildly. "And I'm used to making my own
way through life. I've never been a dead weight for anyone to carry and I don't
mean to be one now. This is something of value I can do and I know I can do it
well."
"I imagine you do everything well," Daniel remarked, foolishly forgetting the
precise terms of their disagreement in his enthusiasm.
"I certainly do." Jack's deliberate tone was so laden with meaning, Daniel
blushed fierily. "Very, very well."
"You will not make remarks of this nature to me when we are at the dig," he
coldly instructed Jack. "I will not have the men upset by any tension or
disagreement between us."
"I won't embarrass you," Jack freely gave his word. "I've done it once already
and I'm too good a tactician to repeat my mistake."
"I wish you would cease your pointless pursuit of me altogether," Daniel
snapped.
"I'm sure you would."
Daniel, who always enjoyed watching the stars fade and the sky blaze with
colour, found he was too restless and irritable to be aware of anything but the
insolently confident man strolling along close by his side. In fact, if he were
to be strictly honest with himself, he would have to confess to feeling a
certain trepidation. Jack was a man entirely too used to having his own way to
balk at Daniel's steadfast refusal to allow him to have his way with him.
It was very lowering for Daniel to have his defiance met by an amusement that
bordered on glee.
"Your conduct is not that of an officer or a gentleman, Colonel O'Neill," he
lamented. "Nor are the intentions you have expressed towards me those of a – a
Christian man."
"That's where you're wrong," Jack disagreed forcefully, his expression darkening
to real anger. "I've seen many a Christian 'gentleman' in my time whoring women
or boys they'd spit on if they passed them in the street. I've no time or
patience for that sort of hypocrisy. In fact, I won't stand for it. My
'intentions', as you call them, may not meet your definition of honourable but
they are at least honestly meant."
"I do not believe you to be a hypocrite," Daniel said slowly, surprised to find
he meant this in all sincerity. "But I had not realised you are not a
Christian."
"I'm an atheist," Jack said flatly. "The Almighty and I parted company for good
at Cibicu Creek in '81."
"May I ask..."
"No!" Jack consciously softened his tone after this rebuff. "Best you don't."
"Do you think it would change my opinion of you to learn of the hardships you
suffered in war?"
"I inflicted as many hardships as I suffered during my campaigning," Jack told
him in a hard voice. "I lost the luxury early on of believing myself to be a
good Christian gentleman. I'm not so dishonest as that."
"Nor am I," Daniel confessed bravely, only wanting Jack to know he was not alone
in this regard. "I choose to put my faith in man, not in God."
"Then that's one more thing we have in common." Jack's tension faded into his
usual friendly look.
Feeling he'd exposed more of himself than he cared to, Daniel was content to let
the matter drop. Jack had forced on him an intimacy he was not ready to accept,
pushing them both far beyond the boundaries of friendship Daniel at least was
comfortable with. He preferred to keep his own counsel rather than confide his
most private thoughts and convictions to others. Jack's unusual honesty had
circumvented his accustomed defences and he hoped this would not become the
pattern of their friendship. His experience of placing his trust in others was
almost uniformly one of disappointment.
Attempting to direct his attention more profitably towards the application of
photography to methodical excavation proved fruitless. Daniel not only kept
stealing furtive glances at Jack as they walked, he was unable to keep his
thoughts from him. The man's undeniably stimulating presence was exasperatingly
pervasive.
Remembering certain ill-disciplined thoughts and poorly informed hopes for a
deeper understanding to flourish between him and Jack, Daniel could only marvel
at his credulity. The faint concerns he'd acknowledged to himself over Jack's
uncanny ability to distract him from everything of importance were grossly
understating the case.
In the circumstances, he could only be grateful to reach camp and find the
expedition's cook Mensah greeting their arrival with hot tea as the men of
Abydos observed the Salatu-l-Fajr, their morning prayer.
"I need to wait for good light before I can photograph the stele for you," Jack
said affably. "I don't want to waste a plate if I can possibly avoid it."
"Then this morning you may assist me in directing the men in their digging of
the test trenches," Daniel ordered.
Jack looked back at him with limpid, laughing eyes but made no protest. Daniel
collected his theodolite and the two made their way through the site along the
royal road.
"What are all these places?" Jack wanted to know, looking around him with vague
interest.
"We are in the Central City of Akhetaten," Daniel replied readily, glad to be
able to discuss with Jack something which was of real importance. "This is the
part of the city in which Khuenaten and his royal family lived and worshipped.
The first structure to our right is the Small Aten Temple."
"Structure?" Jack queried a trifle insultingly. "I'd say that was an imaginative
assessment."
Daniel pointedly ignored this provocative remark. "Ahead of us and to the right
is the King's House in which Kasuf's son Skaara is completing the preparatory
work for me. Ahead of us and to our left is the Great Palace, which was
excavated by Flinders Petrie in '92. We believe the King's House and the Great
Palace to have been linked by a bridge, one of the many devices employed by
Khuenaten to preserve the mystique of the royal family he desired the common
people to worship as deities."
"And beyond that is the place where you found the stele?"
Daniel shot him a surprised look.
"I do listen," Jack grinned. "My ears work almost as well as my mouth."
"Indeed?" Daniel raised a sceptical eyebrow.
"Indeed. For example, I know the big temple you're looking for is so darned big
you can't find it."
"Have you made it your life's work to express yourself as offensively to others
as possible?" Daniel snapped.
"No," Jack decided after giving this matter careful thought. "I don't work at
being offensive. I'm just naturally gifted, I guess."
"Akhetaten is not the easiest site to excavate," Daniel explained himself
stiffly, sensitive to criticism on this issue. "Not only is the architecture
uniquely atypical, but the city was destroyed by the vengeful populace after
Khuenaten's death. The early Christians made further depredations and the local
people have for generations plundered materials with which to build their
homes."
"I wasn't criticising you, Daniel," Jack said softly. "I was only teasing."
"I am more used to the former than the latter." If Jack chose to accept this as
an apology he was welcome to do so.
"Having me around is obviously good for you in lots of ways."
A shout went up from behind them and soon they were surrounded by the always
lively and energetic Abydonians, singing and sharing jokes as they greeted
Daniel and Jack, and set to work with a will under Kasuf's eagle eye.
Daniel went over to the awning and the table he had ordered set up near to where
the men were working. He consulted the master chart containing his site datum,
double-checked the precise grid co-ordinates for the Great Aten Temple datum
within the overall site reference and began the time-consuming process of
charting the grid he and Jack had measured out yesterday. He was conscious of
Jack standing entirely too close to him and feigning interest, but refused to
allow his concentration to be shaken.
The sun climbed higher, the men toiled laboriously, meticulously clearing away
dirt one practiced inch at a time. One of Mensah's kitchen boys came with more
hot, sweet tea and savoury stew, the men broke for prayers, and Jack went away
for a time. When he returned, he was enthused about the photographs he had taken
of the stele, describing for Daniel how he had been able to obtain a very
detailed image of the hieroglyphics. Daniel thanked him with real gratitude and
went on methodically annotating his grid. Jack inspected the chart thoroughly,
went out to watch the men dig for a while, then came back to watch Daniel work.
"I can do this," he claimed unexpectedly, tapping the chart.
Daniel looked up at this, intrigued by Jack's confident assertion. "You can?"
"You have a point of origin, right? That pole over there in the distance?"
"The site datum," Daniel confirmed. "It’s the central point from which the
entire site is mapped into a rectangular grid."
"With points east, west, north and south of the site, er..."
"Datum."
"Exactly." Again referring to the chart, Jack singled out one of the grid
references. "Each of these is a unique co-ordinate, indicating both the distance
of a given point and its compass direction from the site datum."
"You are quite correct."
"Your artefacts are attacking from ambush," Jack said decidedly, with a droll,
lively look at Daniel. "I've been attacked from ambush many times. I know how to
read and draw maps, how to conduct methodical searches reading sign for an
elusive enemy."
"There is a third calculation," Daniel informed Jack, unhesitatingly doing the
man the honour of taking him at his word. "That of elevation."
"I understand," Jack interrupted him hastily. "West Point may be a military
academy but it is also one of the pre-eminent engineering and technical schools
in the United States."
"Why did you not tell me this before?"
"You didn't ask," Jack replied blandly.
"Yesterday, you allowed me to lecture you on the most basic rules of site
mapping as if you were a veritable novice." Daniel looked at him quizzically. "I
don't understand why you would do that," he said frankly.
"Maybe I wanted to hear what you had to say."
"You said you didn't doubt my credentials." Daniel frowned over this.
Jack shook his head, smiling patiently. "I've learned many things in my career
from listening to the veterans, a lot of them sergeants, not officers. I'm used
to judging a man on how he leads those he's responsible for. One of the measures
of a good officer is that when he speaks, his men listen. You talked." Jack
shrugged unconcernedly. "You were very clear. Your men – even Kasuf - listened."
"Am I correct in assuming you're paying me a compliment?" Daniel asked
cautiously.
Jack snorted in outright amusement and clapped Daniel heartily on the shoulder.
"I'm only letting you know that if this sort of work needs to be done, then you
can trust me to do it."
Daniel looked steadily at Jack for a time and again, his instinct was to take
him at his word. "I believe I can," he said slowly.
A shout went up from the men and Kasuf plunged in among the diggers, his robes
streaming. A second shout went up and Kasuf bellowed triumphantly for Dr.
Jackson to come, to come now and see. Daniel went at once, running in his haste
to learn what the men had found. Jack came pounding along behind him, caught up
in the palpable excitement as the Abydonians gathered around the trenches dug by
Jibade and Ishaq, who prided themselves on being among the fastest workers.
Daniel dropped to his knees at the side of Jibade's trench and found a rough,
eroded stone disk emerging from the surrounding dirt.
"Ishak has found one of these also, Dr. Jackson," Kasuf informed him.
A third shout went up, from Nizam, who was digging at the very edges of the
marked sector.
With Jack's quick hand there to steady him, Daniel slid down into the trench.
His tools were put into his hand and he began at once to clear away the
remaining dirt from the surface of the disk. When he had brushed it clear, he
ran a reverent hand over the stone and smiled up at the assembled men, thrilled
at their discovery. "I believe we have found an offering table!" he announced
delightedly. Jibade's face swam with pride as he accepted the congratulations of
his friends.
"Return to your work," he ordered the jubilant Abydonians. "Perhaps we will find
yet more proof that we have at last located the site of the Great Aten Temple!"
Quick hands were there to help him when he climbed out of the trench and
proceeded to Ishaq's sector on the grid. Daniel's stomach tightened deliciously
when a cursory inspection revealed the presence of a second stone disk, though
Ishaq had the consolation of knowing his find was rather better preserved than
that of Jibade. Daniel murmured suitable congratulations and thanks and went at
once to the third man, Nizam. When he saw the third stone disk, he looked around
him in frank amazement.
"This was a very great temple indeed," he told Kasuf and Jack, who were
following hard on his heels. "Colonel O'Neill was correct when he said to me
that the temple was almost too big to find!" He threw out an expansive hand.
"Look!" he urged his friends enthusiastically. "Only look! The temple is all
around us!" He smiled at the two men, inviting them to share his joy. Jack eyes
lit with such appreciation, it was if he knew precisely how Daniel felt.
This was the best of days.
The pattern for the first two days of Daniel's acquaintance with Jack became the
pattern for the first two weeks. Their work at the site was arduous and
immensely rewarding as the Abydonian men worked quickly to uncover the serried
rows of offering tables. Under Daniel's watchful eye, Jack quickly and
competently mapped their findings to date in the Great Aten temple, then oversaw
the grid marking of an adjacent sector in what they were now sure was the temple
compound.
Daniel was never sure if Jack enjoyed all of the work he chose to engage himself
upon, but he could not doubt his abilities at these soldierly pursuits, nor
would he deny the excellent relations his patron had established with Kasuf,
Skaara, the Abydonians, the local workers and the household staff.
In fact, the only person on whom Jack did not cannily exercise his maturely
calming, reassuring leadership was Daniel himself. Joyful days of work and
learned discovery, of cautiously deepening understanding and friendship, were
counter-pointed by frustrating evenings of outrageously persistent romantic
pursuit.
Whenever they were alone together, Jack continued to press his advances and
Daniel continued to evade them. No word, action or rejection of his could dent
the man's exuberant confidence in his eventual surrender or silence the highly
improper love talk with which he was wont to while away dinner and the evening
hours alone together at Amarna House.
The only credit Daniel could give Jack was that his calm, friendly manner at the
dig was punctiliously extended until they had bathed and changed for the
evening. He did nothing to make Daniel more uncomfortable or self-conscious
during those brief communal times, a consideration in marked contrast to his
predations at any other time they were alone.
The excuses he found to corner Daniel were endlessly creative and plausible,
ranging from sitting attentively at his side at the pianoforte in order to turn
the pages of his music for him to enlisting his aid in what had become the
erotically charged battleground of the photographic dark room. Trapped in that
exceedingly small, confined, murky space with an arrogantly commanding Jack,
Daniel had come to understand the man knew no shame.
Yet for all the annoyances Jack happily heaped upon Daniel's embarrassed head,
he never breached the terms of their agreement. His romantic assaults remained
verbal, he extended to Daniel every courtesy while at the excavation, never
sought to skirmish with him before others, and at many most inconvenient
moments, demonstrated a depth of kindness and regard which were quite unique in
Daniel's limited experience.
He had lifted many of the administrative chores and burdens from Daniel's
shoulders, and he listened with patience and sometimes genuine interest to
everything Daniel disclosed to him about Egypt and the ancient world. Jack spoke
his mind with calm good sense about the occasionally unfriendly rivalry between
the Abydonian Muslims and the local Copts, meted out summary justice to a local
drunkard who had harangued Daniel on more than one occasion because he refused
to employ him.
There were many days when Jack seemed to find some new way, however small, to
make Daniel's life simpler and easier.
Perhaps it was as simple a matter as Jack never showing boredom or disdain when
Daniel was fired with enthusiasm at their discoveries, when his passions got the
better of him and he would expound at length over dinner and long into the
evenings. Jack would only listen, and flirt desperately, and ask such sensible
questions!
There was no one specific cause, or rather there were many, but of one thing
Daniel was certain: Jack was indeed his friend.
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
Part 3 | Part 4 |
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