The Way Of The Warrior
He had been trained in the way of the warrior; proud, strong, independent, indomitable. Your sword was your only friend, your only conversation was battle strategy. The only beauty you saw in life was that of a shining blade; a well-placed, devious attack in the heat of battle. Your only satisfaction was a field littered with the bodies of your foes. Smiles were reserved for a job well done or a threat averted. Marriage was not about love, it was about producing even more warriors. This had been the way of the Medjai, passed down from father to son, for thousands of years. This had been Ardeth's truth and his life from the time he could understand what it meant to be Medjai. Now that blasted O'Connell and his outrageous companions had come along and shaken the very foundations of what he had believed for so long. Ardeth had always had a vague notion, kept secret in the back of his mind, never revealed, that there was more to life than waiting for the next battle, the next Tuareg raid, the next threat to the tribes. O'Connell seemed to confirm this suspicion. At first, Ardeth was very confused when, upon defeating their foes, the Medjai raiders themselves, O'Connell did not immediately make plans for further conquests, bigger battles; maybe the remainder of the raiding party before they could slip away to the rest of the tribe. This had been the way of Ardeth's people for time out of mind, and he wasn't about to change it, at least not until he understood things more clearly. After he had gotten to know O'Connell better, however, he had noticed the way he had been hankering after that loud-mouthed, obnoxious woman who had been kidnapped by The Creature. If she had been Egyptian, she would have been shy, meek, and obedient. Ardeth just didn't see what O'Connell saw in that brash young woman. She was pretty, yes, but how could he stand being argued with, disobeyed, ignored, and verbally abused all the time? Alright, maybe he was exaggerating somewhat, but that didn't change the fact that she wouldn't even listen to the head of her household, which was a serious crime among his people. Not that the continually half-tipsy, irresponsible, cowardly man had been anyone worth listening to, but the fact was still there. Then, after he had narrowly escaped being torn to shreds by undead fiends and said farewell to O'Connell, he had watched them ride off into the sunset with a King's Ransom of gold slung casually over the camel's hindquarters, and had seen the way O'Connell and Evelyn were looking at each other and kissing, and he thought to himself 'The way of the warrior is the only way to survive in this land; I have no business longing for a life I cannot have' Secretly, however, he hoped that he would one day see the O'Connell's again and maybe they could teach him their ways, and maybe he could teach him his. This was the only daydream he would ever allow himself, for the way of the warrior demands constant vigilance.