To see the faces that depict my characters go on to my Mads Mikkelsen/Tristan appreciate page at my profile. :)

Part I. She Walks in Beauty

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
-Lord Byron

Britannia

"Truly Ardeth, this is unnecessary," Inara chastised from inside the carriage, her head poking out of the window. The sunlight lit up her golden skin, the soft breeze rustled strands of hair that had escaped from her hair clips.

"I could not agree more, Inara," Aisha interjected, her head peeking out of the door.

"Oh, gods, save me," Ardeth muttered under his breath.

"If this is to go on," Inara continued, loving to tease her husband, "I insist on a palanquin next time. Yes, that sounds nice. A palanquin carried by four well muscled men, covered in scented oil wearing only a leather loin cloth."

From inside the carriage, Ardeth heard his younger sister's amused glee. His wife and his sister often ganged up on him, two against one. Sometimes women did play unfairly. But he was simply glad that his Inara's face exuded healthy color, clear, sparkling onyx eyes, and a wide smile that warmed his heart. It was only a year ago that she had her third miscarriage during their twelve year marriage. It had devastated her, and had taken her months to be able to get out of bed. But Inara's health always bounced back quickly, and she could not be deterred into staying behind in Egypt when Ardeth had informed her that he was to be traveling to Britain, lending one of his ships to take the Sarmatian warriors back to their homeland.

Ardeth's family had had dealings with Romans for decades. Of rich, noble blood their family name was widespread and associated goodly. It was Ardeth's grandfather, Gahiji, who became acquainted with a Roman officer who was to command a legion of Sarmatians. But the boat that was to take him was looted and destroyed, and Gahiji was generous enough to offer his fleet. Since then, trade was common between the families, and Gahiji and his offspring and their offspring regularly went to Britain to lend aid.

Some five years ago, Ardeth befriended a Sarmatian warrior named Lancelot who was First Knight. When Ardeth received word that Uther Castus, Lancelot's Commander, had died a year ago, and his young son, Artorius Castus, lost his mother half a year back during a village raid, Ardeth and his brother Memnon took it upon them to see that the Sarmatian warriors returned home as was their right. With a change of commander at such a late date to receive their freedom papers, everything became muddled up. Not to mention, the young boy, Arthur, needed to return to his mentor and friend, Pelagius, whom Ardeth and his family were also good friends with, in Rome.

And now, his sister Aisha had also insisted on coming along on the tedious journey, never having seen Britain before.

"That is it!" Aisha exclaimed. "Stop the carriage!"

The five Medjai under Ardeth's command looked at their leader. The Egyptian pursed his lips and nodded to the carriage driver to halt the horses. When the carriage slowed, Aisha jumped out and set about mounting Thema, her black Arabian mare.

"Me as well then," Inara said, following suit of her sister-in-law. Inara, saddled on Nebibi, cantered close to her husband to place a kiss on his tattooed cheek. Her eyes glittered with passionate innuendo, and Ardeth truly longed to take her to a secluded copse and make love to her, but they were almost to the fort, and exploring her lush, perfect body would have to wait a bit longer.

--

Lancelot heard the horns and his spirits lifted, having looking forward to Ardeth's visit for months. He knew his wife would be accompanying him, along with his younger sister. He thought back to the passed year and how hectic it had been. Losing their Commander at such a late date was both grievous and complicated. Commander Castus had been a good leader, and had treated his Sarmatian warriors equally, unlike some other Roman leaders he had heard about in different parts of Britain. His heart had also gone out to young Arthur, losing both of his parents in the span of a year. At least the boy had Pelagius, and would be returning to Rome with his mentor.

Lancelot and the eight remaining knights stood in the courtyard, seeing the billowing of dirt beneath the horses' heavy hooves.

"I see two very beautiful women," came the swarthy, sly voice of Akbar, resident ladies-man. No doubt he would be sorely missed by the women of the fortress.

Lancelot turned a dark, reprimanding eye on Akbar. "You are to act appropriately, Akbar. I will not have you disrespecting Ardeth by propositioning his relations."

Behram, a tall, formidable looking Sarmatian snorted. "Not to mention one of those women is Ardeth's wife."

The rest of the men jeered at Akbar, save for Ahriman, the best scout there ever was. Ahriman was of the Iazyges tribe, and they all knew that tribe was far different from the rest of the Sarmatian tribes. Their beliefs and ways of life were far more eccentric than the others. They were nomads, moving from place to place, and the initiation into manhood was a first kill, and was rewarded with symbolic tattoos on their cheeks. Ahriman also had a plethora of braids in his dark hair. Ahriman was quiet and stoic, and relished every kill he made.

Akbar scoffed, but refrained from making anymore comments about Ardeth's kin. Despite his attitude, he greatly respected the Egyptian.

Ardeth's retinue came closer, a carriage in tow, and five Medjai flanking the three noble guests. They stopped a few paces away, and Jols Sr., the stable master, came forth along with his twelve year old son Jols, his namesake who would no doubt take over his father's position when Jols Sr. became too old to do so.

Ardeth greeted Jols and his son heartily, the young boy intimidated and full of awe. The horses were escorted away and greetings begun.

Ardeth and Lancelot embraced.

"It is good to see you, sadiq," Ardeth said, holding Lancelot at arms length, his hands on his shoulders.

"You as well, Ardeth," he replied.

"Allow me to introduce my habeeb, my wife, Inara," Ardeth said with great pride, his eyes gleaming with love.

A woman stepped forward, long raven hair plaited behind her back. Her onyx eyes were bright, a kindly smile on her face. She was dressed in fine linen breeches and tunic and jerkin. Not really what Lancelot had expected of a noble wife of Ardeth. But it was obvious to him now that Inara was just as down-to-earth as his Egyptian friend.

"It is so good to finally meet you and your brethren, Sir Lancelot," she said, embracing him and giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. She greeted the rest of the Sarmatians with just as much sincerity and kindliness as Lancelot. She was not even put off by Ahriman's stoic mannerisms.

Lancelot saw that Ardeth obviously adored and worshipped his lovely wife.

"And this is my dear, young sister, Aisha," he also introduced with pride.

Lancelot's breath caught as what he could only call a goddess stepped forward. Her long, obsidian hair was also plaited and shone in the sun. Her skin was golden and flawless, her eyes filled with knowledge and other worldliness he could not define. He did not realize he was staring, entranced with this celestial Egyptian goddess that stood before him in the same fine linen garbs as Ardeth's wife. Her name, Aisha, rang with purity in his ears.

--

Aisha's breath caught, seeing this man, pure man, Lancelot that her brother had told her about. He was so much and more than what she had even imagined. Tall and rugged, well muscled beneath his fine armor. His face was masculine, covered with finely trimmed facial hair. His dark hair was a mass of curls and waves, his dark brown eyes intense as he gazed upon her. The man's lips were inviting and she had to shake the erotic thoughts that surprised her from her mind.

"Aisha?" Ardeth prompted.

She shook her head slightly. "Yes," she collected herself. "It is wonderful to meet you...Lancelot," his name rolling from her tongue like fine honey.

"And you, Aisha," he said, taking her soft hand in his.

Aisha greeted the rest of the men, and like her sister-in-law, not the least intimidated by Ahriman, acknowledging him warmly. Lancelot cleared his voice when Akbar held onto her hand a bit too long.

"Ardeth!"

The Egyptian looked behind the Sarmatian warriors to see young Arthur Castus running towards him, his face alight. Despite his age, Ardeth swung him up in his arms, giving the young boy a hearty hug. He set him down.

"It is good to see you, young man," he said, choosing for the moment not to mention either his mother or father.

"And you, Lord Ardeth," Arthur said.

"Ah, just Ardeth, remember?" he reminded with a smile.

Pelagius approached, arms wide. They embraced. Despite Pelagius's Christian faith, he always treated the Sarmatian warriors and all people equally.

"Wonderful to see you again, my friend," Pelagius said as he enveloped his age-old friend.

Ardeth introduced his Medjai, wife and sister to both Arthur and Pelagius. The day was young and bright.

It was truly only Inara who fully gleaned the immense attraction between Aisha and Lancelot. The look in Lancelot's eyes reminded her of the expression on Ardeth's face when he had first clapped eyes on her over a decade ago. Aisha's face was equally entranced, and no doubt she was beholding the exact veil of enamor that Inara herself had shone with when she had met Ardeth.

Inara recollected a brief conversation she had had with Ardeth before they left.

"Would it not be quite spectacular if Lancelot and Aisha were to be taken with one another?" she had smiled coyly at Ardeth.

Ardeth had stared, taken aback at his wife's words. His mouth opened, then closed, causing a musical laugh to emanate from her.

"Would that be so awful, habeebee?"

"Well..." he sought for words, "no...But, where on earth did that notion come from?"

"Oh, I do not know. Aisha is twenty, which is only a few years older than I when I met and married you. She has had so many marriage requests..."

"You know my sister would never marry a man she did not love."

"And she should not. Never you mind, Ardeth. It was only a mere thought. I really do not know why it crossed my mind. Kismet...perhaps." Inara was a romantic in the deepest recesses of her heart. With the relationship she had with her husband, how could she not believe in romance?

"Lancelot is a good man," Ardeth said, rubbing his beard. "No matter how far off the conjecture is, if he loved her with all his heart, and she reciprocated those feelings, I would not mind having him for a brother-in-law."

Now, as she was escorted with her husband to the guest quarters in the keep, she imagined and hoped. It was always a heavenly thing, divine, to have one's soul connect with another's for life.

TBC...

Meanings:
Sadiq – my friend
Kismet – fate
Medjai - warrior
Habeeb – beloved (feminine)
Habeebee – beloved (masculine)