Onward.

Half the distance of the town itself of shifting desert and a chill creeping in behind Baruch.

With the sunset a recent event from the gully, he'd been able to spot the fairers' tents and aimed himself in that direction. Since then the dispersed spare light had faded back into its nightly soujourn and left the young man alone and pulling himself the distance to reach the tents.

He heard the horses first - Chisiya had said that was where to find her. Hooves fell heavily into the packed sand and mud mixture the sellers had set their tents up in. Soft grunts and snorts kept him moving. They escalated slightly and fell back into a dull constant a number of times, reminding Baruch to stay alert for others moving into and away from the the makeshift corral.

He took a vigil by one of the thick, splintering wooden posts - a knotty root of some awkward bit of reluctant growth. The horses were kept in the pen mainly by a series of stakes and ropes, the pen itself being more an instrument to keep others out.

Soft velvet on the back of his neck, Baruch spun. Chestnut stallion.

"He likes you. We need to be off now." Chisiya appeared and whipped a set of reins around at Baruch's quick-grasping hands, regardless of his horsemanship abilities or lack thereof.

"Chisiya!" He toned quietly, thrilled to find her there so suddenly.

"Come with me." She flashed a smile, dark in the still-emerging moonlight. Chisiya sat back abruptly on her own horse and with a flick sped away from the tents. She only glanced back a moment to see Baruch. He would keep up.

"Please." Baruch reached a hand up to touch the horse's broad forehead and laid his hand there a moment to close his eyes and feel his heart pounding into his head - forcing lights behind his eyes in anticipation. An awkward leap aided by the pen-fencing brought him clumsily down onto the back of the giant beast, arm over leg. With little else on his mind, he made off to beat down the path left by his chestnut mare.

His riding was a violent struggle to stay onstride and onback at best times. More than once he'd jerked the reins down fiercely in effort to replace himself on the horse's back. They rode speedily, but only a short distance, stopping at an area slight of gorwth chosen apparently, without purpose. Baruch's eventual descent was further pain - a small dive from the stallion as Chisiya grasped the large head in her dark-cream hands and pulled down to see the stallion level. A thick coolness spread over him as he landed sharply on his side and rolled away.

"Shhhh...shhhh. Tch, tch, tch. Hush, darling." Chisiya laid her hands over the stallion's eyes until his frantic breathing halted - Baruch had ridden madly to keep up and the horse was not at all happy. "Shhhhh." she continued soothing him until he picked his head away from her and stepped back to meet the mare she'd ridden out.

"Brother doesn't like you, afterall." She laughed to Baruch and helped him brush the dust from his shirt.

"That's his name then?"

"It's like you said." She pulled her own hair around front to show him again the coloring.

With the moon only beginning her blush for them he attached mainly onto the memory of her, rather than attempt to strain through the shadows. "You've bought him, then."

She brushed a hand across her skirt. "The men I travel with..." she trailed for a moment, and then - "Baruch, why did you follow?"

"Because it was you." he smiled, back on familiar ground now, happy to discover a chance he wanted his legs recovered from the ride his usual ease crept back into him.

"Good." she shifted her attention to the sack she'd brought and pulled out a length of cloth - not a proper blanket by any means it was frayed at the edges and a glowing shade of palest brown in the enveloping moonlight. "You've never ridden before?"

"No, not really. I still don't think I've done more than hang on," he added.

She made a face and tossed him one end of their makeshift blanket to smooth out some distance from the bits of growth they'd stopped at. "You still managed to pick out the best stallion at the horse fair."

"Best mare as well." He reddened and wondered if she too, dark cream, blushed. Dark almond eyes held his steady. She would not blush, she had no reason. They sat at either end of their blanket and Baruch spread out his bundle of olives between them.

She could only withstand the silence long enough to pop the first olive into her mouth. "Egypt. That's where I'm from."

"Oh."

Seeing Baruch's blank recognition, she continued. "It's to the West and South from here, my city. Many days of riding. You ought to be more aware, Baruch."

"I've never even left this village," Baruch said. "The men you travel with - they're traders?"

"Something like that. The men are a kind group and I stay with them."

"Your family travels as well?" Baruch was trying to puzzle out what "the men" meant to Chisiya.

"Oh, well. It's complicated. I know my father travels with us, I know some men are not my father, but I cannot know which man he is."

Baruch laid a pile of olive pits off to the side in a small hole he'd burrowed out with his thumb, smearing chunks of the compacted mud-sand away from the blanket. He offered a hand to gather Chisiya's olive pits. "What does that mean? You can't know because he is a villianous man?"

"I'm just not allowed to know."

"Yet - a child should be able to honor their parents and show them proper respect. You must honor all the men at your camp then?"

"I do." she replied, hesitantly. "I owe them much."

Baruch," Chisiya turned quickly and grabbed Baruch's hand as it made way to his mouth. Both their hands were still sticky with olive juice. "Would you believe me, please, if I'd tell you about me - what I was told of myself? It's so strange, but..." she trailed.

"I'll believe you."

"Because it's me?" she brightened visibly to him now, a rush came at him from within. "the same reason you followed me, even though I didn't wait for you? It wasn't very kind of me, I am sorry. I wasn't thinking you'd never ridden before."

"I'll believe you." Baruch repeated.

She relaxed and stole the olive from his hand before letting go. She leaned back away from him and pulled her feet in under her skirts before starting. "I'm not allowed to know which of the men I travel with is my father because he could be killed for it." She stopped and smiled sadly, looking over to Baruch to catch a reproachful look. She couldn't find it. Baruch stayed firmly in his position at the end of their blanket, hunched forward slightly with his sack propped under one arm against his leg. His face registered only earnest interest.

"I said I'd believe you and I will. The only way I can know you is to trust you. And I would like to know you, Chisiya. Trust can only grow in its exchange; I'll trust you."

She gave him a queer look. "Thank you. You seem to be a good listener, and we're all the way out here now - I'll tell you my story."

My father was an ambitious young man. He fell in love with a gorgeous and wealthy woman in Egypt, even though he wasn't the same status. She was beautiful, my mother, they say I look like her, too...I really can only imagine her, I don't remember her at all. But because she was the daughter of a very wealthy man as well as beautiful, she was offered to the Pharoh himself as a wife. He never did marry her, but he had many women - she was never his first wife and didn't have much status with him, but she was already in love with my father. So when she became gave birth - to me - she told my father I wasn't the Pharoh's child. He became desperate to get me away, and so he turned to a band of brigands who'd set their camp up outside of the city for an ongoing celebration. He offered himself to them then, to work with them. There's always men dying..." she stopped on this a moment, but seemed unaffected, "there's so much to it, really. They stole me from the palace during one of the parades of the celebration. Many of the guards were out with the Pharoh and I was newborn - too young to attend the festivities so I stayed in the palace with the lesser women and guards. We have to keep moving now, running always to make sure no one can catch us. I've never seen anyone chasing, but that just means we're safe. The Pharoh found out eventually - that I might not be his - I'm told my mother was killed then. And there's a reward offered to bring in my father dead. See, they don't actually know if I'm really the Pharoh's daughter or not, so they have to bring me back into Egypt and cleanse me at the palace." She stopped and looked to Baruch for a reaction.

"That means kill me. They'd cut my hands off and wait until I died. It would be a ceremony. I think they'd announce it in the city, and let people come to pray while I died. A priest would probably do the cutting. I'd be lucky also if they'd cut my feet off, I bet I'd die faster."

'Wistful' was the only word Baruch could muster within himself to describe the way she turned from him. The wind blew lightly at their backs, sending the ends of her chestnut hair twitching.

"Do you still believe me, Baruch?" She directed the question sharply at her companion.

"I'm sorry." he shook his head, "Your life is difficult. I will not say I wish to unburden you, and that is why I came here. I think you are strong to have come so far and I am inadequate to offer you consolation. But I am here beside you and if I can, that is what I want to offer you. I'd like to stay here - with you. I like it here beside you, Chisiya."

She smiled and moved closer to him. "I like you also, Baruch. I can't tell who you are yet, but you're here. To me, that means a great deal. To be here, now." Her fingers danced slowly around his back to intertwine and ensnare him into a hug he would not pull away from. "Thank you Baruch," she toned softly into his neck, "thank you."

"Isi," a garbled whisper behind her, a twist in their blanket that pulled under her knees. Cold, rough metal at her arm.

"No!" She slapped the instrument away hastily and spun away from the embrace. "No! No!" she screamed again.

"Your horses leave deep tracks, Isi. You ought to know you can't be trusting of people."

"No! No!" she yelled again at the multitude of shapes around them now, soaking in the moonlight to give out their familiar features. "He's Baruch and I love him! Please leave us!"

"You love him?" A different voice this time, oddly high-pitched and somewhere to the left. Baruch was fully captivated, these were "the men" - the theives Chisiya had spoken of. They'd brought weapons. Swords, bent oddly in the moonlight. Spears distance weapons Baruch realized with a shock of alarm - throwing weapons.

"Chisiya!" he pulled the girl back down to himself to protect her. She's so small he thought, and wrapped his large arms and back around to covered her.

"No, Baruch, it's not me!" she pulled herself out and hugged him again - now wrapping her body around the target to protect him.

He stayed sitting, helpless, eyes widening with realization. A small cough from his left.

"Isi, you can't stay there forever. You don't have to do the protecting, that's why we're here."

A different man: "You know we've always protected you, kept you safe with us. It's part of our living now, Isi, we care deeply for you - you know this. We just want to keep you safe, we have to."

"No! You have weapons that won't protect me; that can't protect my heart! If you truly care to protect me leave us alone, and now!" she called visciously through Baruch's hair.

Protect her heart.

Slowly Baruch reached around himself. He tugged her hands away gently and unwound himself from their tangled blanket of safety she'd made for him.

"Baruch?" she pleaded.

"You say you love me. Such a strong feeling, so very fast. If it is mine also, I will protect your heart as these men seem to protect you."

"Isi, you do understand, don't you. Please try, please know that we love you. Aiko. Enar." The light streaked higher as the two named, with purpose laid clearly, each raised their weapon.

"Please, stop." Baruch spoke loudly to the men around him, he stood now, a great deal taller than the others. "I do not claim I can return the love which has staked itself for me, but I pray you will all give me the chance. I am frightened as well, but I will trust you with my life because you all care enough to protect the life of Chisiya, and I do know I want to love her also, deeply in time. I beg you all for this." He bowed his head to the ground slightly, hoping for the second time that day his height wasn't as intimidating as it made him feel.

"Please..." Chisiya whispered behind him, left alone on their blanket, fingers twisting up mounds of dirt underneath the cloth, hoping.

A single man strode forward to meet Baruch at arm's length. "I am sorry, Chisiya. Please try to understand, in time." He brought his bent-sword slowly forward - ireluctantly/i - and downward in a flash. Baruch felt a searing at his shoulder, then nothing.

Brilliance lit the area. A shining center of force took shape before the young man, sending the other backward in terror.

"Gods!" the man with the bent-sword cried and turned to run and gather his horse, and his self, far away.

"You will leave this man alone." The light spoke strangely, gently in its harsh glare, gently in the harsh exchange. "He will not be harmed."

A poorly-aimed spear made for the light, ended its path halting with suddenness in the air - some distance still from the light. It shimmered, colors patterning themselves up the shaft and playing across the slim blade before breaking themselves away. The spear broke apart and fell. Baruch watched the spear crack, a small wimper releasing itself from his throat.

Seeing the broken weapon, the remaining men turned to flee hastily, less fearful than the first. They had seen much violence. A light was difficult, but a broken weapon restored their solidity and gave them an enemy to turn from. Shortly, horse hooves beat away from the blanket as one. A single trail paced off in the opposite direction.

"Chisiya..." Baruch turned to the blanket and picked the scattered olives from it. He tossed them aside. The light continued brightly at his back, streaking and shifting always, colors draped themselves across the blanket where his shadow did not fall. "She is gone now."

He began brushing off the blanket and picked it up to fold the corners of the blanket in, in turn. "There are no horses to return with."

Balthamos stretched himself into the angelic form he'd become accoustomed to, wrapping the layers of light into the structure Baruch could perceive as the nature of angel. The light shining both within and upon the angel dimmed as he shifted his form. Baruch kept his back to the angel still.

"You need not fear me, Baruch." He spoke again, the same gentle voice which had entered such violence.

"You are Balthamos, I do not fear you. I will not fear you." he turned angrily to the angel now, "You are just another part of tonight. I won't let this shape me in any way. I cannot be so easily affected." iI will be solid/i he thought, I will let myself be a rock. To be solid and steady through my life, this is my ambition. He stumbled to the ground suddenly, deep scarlett black in the moonlight covering the left half of his chest and shirt. He laid his head into the mass of blanket he'd gathered and began to sob.

"I am not a rock!" he wailed and pushed himself further against the ground. His body shook, racked with sobs. For the girl or himself, he did not know. He beat a fist at his chest and nearly blacked out from the pain, gasping harshly into the blanket with the shock of it. He snapped his jaw closed to grind his teeth in the pain.

Balthamos twisted in agitation to see the young man. A flood came at him again he knew so well, the memory of Baruch's birth, the feeling of what that life had become as it engulfed the room with itself, pulling at emotions and gaining such feeling from them. From the start, he'd known this life. To feel as Baruch did with such passion from the start, such passion that grew and swelled each day he'd quietly watched the young man as a stranger at Enoch's side. A life that felt as greatly as Baruch's would feel even stronger now.

Knowing little else of humans but the affections he'd seen and the their own reflections of angels, Balthamos moved over to Baruch and gathered him - as Chisiya had done to protect him - into a deep embrace. Baruch fell lightly against Balthamos, and as the coolness spread over him, let blackness overtake him.

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I actually type everything up in notepad - these documents never see any spelling editor, thus the occasional sloppiness. And while I dislike the spelling errors, I don't actually know how to correct them without deleting the full chapter and re-uploading, which might also delete my single (and wonderful) reviewer! So I must say errors acknowledged, thank you, and hang my head.