Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews either here, at the FLMB, or through email. I can't express just how much they mean to me! :) –Shel

Chapter Eight

Najya smiled thinly as she watched Ardeth's men set up camp for the evening. She was amazed how quickly they had erected the tents she now saw before her. Of the four tents two were of a medium size, one each for Ardeth and herself. A third, larger tent was spaced further away from the Chief's tent for the five men who traveled with him. The fourth was much smaller and used for personal needs.

Noticing Ardeth approaching her, she sighed heavily, hating herself for her deception. She had not been ready to tell him the truth of her mission and found herself playing on his sympathies by feigning weariness. He soon called a halt to the caravan and insisted camp be made. She had been amazed at the speed of which his concern had risen to the surface of his emotions. That only further enhanced her feelings of guilt.

"Come," Ardeth commanded when he reached her side. He motioned toward her tent and with the lightest of touches to the small of her back, ushered her forward.

She glanced quickly at him, his face now beginning to shadow as dusk loomed and cast him in an even more mysterious manner in the waning sunlight. She was struck by an excitement she had never felt before and the light touch of his fingertips to her back, even through her cloak and blouse, seared her skin deliciously. She was torn between the need to run away from such feelings or explore them in more depth.

Ardeth took a moment to enter the tent behind Najya to make sure things were suitable. He dropped his hand from her back once they were inside and was hit with the immediate need to touch her again. Inwardly, he steeled himself against his impious thoughts and surveyed the inside to satisfy himself that she had a suitable domicile for the evening. Candles were lit and a small, comfortable pallet was made for her bed. It was adequate, if nothing else.

"Rest here. Food will be brought to you shortly. We will leave before sunrise," he informed her and made his leave without ceremony. In such small quarters, her nearness shook him. He was no fool; he knew if he remained with her for any length of time, he might lose the battle he warred within himself and give in to the urge to touch her. He groaned when he felt the ache take hold in his loins. Just one thought of touching her skin set him afire. If he gave in to the temptation, he knew one touch would not be enough to satisfy his needs. Squaring his shoulders, he exhaled a sharp breath and headed toward his men.

They were wary of her and asked that she be kept separate from them whenever possible. She was shrouded in secrecy and the Seer's visions made them fearful and distrustful. He could understand why they felt the need to keep her at a distance and yet he could not shake the fact that there was so much more to this woman than met the eye. He would demand the truth from her tomorrow. He had been lenient with her and brought the caravan to a halt when she expressed her weariness. Tomorrow he would have her story, no matter what excuses she gave.

--

Najya was surprised to discover she truly had become weary. Weary in spirit as well as strength. She had gone days without prayer and comfort from the Goddess. She needed to feel the light and goodness of the Mother. It was time again for the ritual; it had been too long.

Changing out of her travel clothing, she donned something appropriate in which to address the Goddess and picked up a few needed articles before peeking out the tent flap to find a suitable place for prayer.

Bathed in moonlight, her silky white, hooded gown flowing gracefully as she moved, Najya walked quietly from the camp. The men had been engaged in a heated discussion and paid little attention to her allowing her to leave the small campsite without notice, or so she thought. She walked until the lights of the camp grew small and felt her movements and words would not disturb the Med-jai. She knew they were not comfortable with her and if they witnessed her in prayer, things would only get worse between them.

Spreading the small mat she carried, she knelt and lay before her objects significant to her goddess -- several clear crystals of varied sizes and a small stone ankh. She was so intent on her task that she did not notice the eyes that watched her every move.

Graceful and alluring, she had drawn his attention immediately when she slipped away from the camp. He waited until she was out of sight before he made the excuse to his men that he needed to be alone to think and then made his way to follow her. He watched, compelled by a need that was foreign to him, as she knelt on a small mat in the sand. He stood silent and still, with nowhere to hide in the vast expanse of desert, and he prayed she would not notice him as he studied her in her need to hide her actions.

Around her neck hung a tjet knot amulet, the pendant she had kept hidden under her clothing. Some also called it "the knot of Isis" or "the blood of Isis". It was said to protect the body and give the wearer the power of Isis. Najya wasn't sure about the power, but the amulet had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations. It was made from the blood-red semi-precious stone carnelian and was shaped much like an ankh. However, because the "arms" of the amulet where folded within themselves, it gave the impression of a small Christian angel. The thin shimmering gold chain hung low, allowing the knot to rest between her partially exposed breasts.

Ardeth saw her left hand move to rest on the objects that lay before her while she looked attentively at the bright, clear moon above. She slowly curled the fingers of her right hand around the amulet that rested against her breast as she spoke.

"Isis, Divine Mother of the God

Mistress of Heaven

Daughter of Nut

Possessor of Magical Protection

Isis who protected her Father"

Without looking down, she placed one of the crystals at the apex of the ankh.

"Isis of the earth

Isis of the south and of the north

Isis of the west and of the east"

Najya moved her left hand slightly, placing a crystal to the left and one to the right of the ankh.

"Isis in all her manifestations

Isis in all her roles

Isis in all her facets

Isis in all places her Spirit roams"

She finished the tribute by placing a crystal at the base of the ankh.

"Isis, oh Great Lady of Philae, hear me

Lady of heaven, sustain me

Mistress of all the stars, protect me

Isis, Mother of the God, heal me"

As Najya released the amulet and raised both arms toward the heavens, her body arched sensuously and the moonlight accentuated every feminine curve of her body. Unable to stop the growing heat that tightened his loins, Ardeth sank to his knees as he watched her. His desire mounted as well as his fascination for the woman. He felt much like a voyeur and yet he could not bring himself to leave. She was a vision, an awe-inspiring sight suffused in the moon's heavenly light and he could not find it within himself to move from the spot where he was anchored.

Slowly the ankh and crystals rose into the air. The crystals began spinning around the ankh until they spun so fast it looked as if a stream of light circled the stone ankh. It floated upward until it hovered over her head, much like an angel's halo. With the moon beaming its light upon the halo, Najya was bathed in whiteness and cold warmth ran over her and through her, healing her spirit as well as her mind.

Hearing a noise, a slight gasp, in the shadows, she called out, "Who's there?" With her concentration broken, the stone ankh and crystals fell, scattering into the sand around her.

The beams of light, which had been absorbed by the crystals only to be released in a white spectrum blanketing the Egyptian beauty, took him by surprise. He mentally kicked himself for his inability to remain quiet while she offered herself to her goddess. That was it, he decided. It was not the vision of her bathed in light, shadows dancing around her, hinting at those delights that made her very much a woman. No, he thought. It was the fact that she worshipped the Goddess Isis and was, perhaps, a priestess.

He rose to his feet, uncaring of how it might appear that he had been spying on her. She was the one who needed to do the explaining, not he. He was Chief; he did not answer to her.

"You!" Najya spat while searching for the crystals that had scattered when she had become startled.

With one simple word, she managed to express her outrage. How dare he spy? How dare he follow her? How dare he stand there looking at her as if she were some criminal? Still, he would not let her have the upper hand. "Explain yourself, Najya Zaghloul," he demanded.

"I will not!" she exclaimed. She retrieved her belongings and brushed by him angrily as she made her way back to the camp. He dogged her heels and repeated his demand. She shook him off and ran toward her tent, not stopping until she had reached its haven inside.

"You're a silly child, Najya."

Najya spun toward the voice. "Oh, Mother. What have you done to me?" she cried and sank down onto the bedding.

"Hush, child. Things are not as terrible as you are making them out to be. You would know that if you used your powers," Zariah scolded. "Since you will not, you stumble in the darkness and see things that are not there."

"I saw his look of disdain, Mother. He watched as I prayed and was disgusted with my behavior," Najya insisted, burying her face in her hands.

Zariah laughed. In some ways her daughter was very naive. "What you saw was a man embarrassed at being caught watching a young woman who was unaware of his presence. He is confused, daughter, not disgusted. You have managed to turn his world upside down and he is not yet sure what to think of you."

Hearing the tent flaps rustle, Zariah made her exit as swiftly as she had made her entrance and was gone by the time Ardeth entered the small enclosure. He glanced around the room and found her alone, sitting on the bedding, her face firmly buried in her hands. "I heard voices," he stated. 'I refuse to believe it was my imagination.'

Najya looked up hesitantly. No one ever heard her mother. If she had been caught talking with her in the past, it was assumed that she was just a bit crazy and talked to herself. It was easier for her uncle and his people to believe that. The alternative was ludicrous. It was sinful to believe a good person could possess the powers that Najya did. She was crazy or she was evil. Those were the only choices. Which category did this man, this handsome Med-jai, place her? She was not sure she wanted to know.

"Yes," she whispered, too tired to hide the truth from him any longer.

Ardeth's eyes wandered the tent again. "I see no one," he returned. His voice had returned to his normal soft tones at seeing her sitting there so small and vulnerable looking. It seemed as if many things haunted her and he did not want to add to those. He knew it was wrong and yet he could not help but feel protective of her.

"She is not of this," Najya waved her arm, "existence." She stood and moved away from the Med-jai and turned her back to him.

"And 'she' is?" Ardeth read the anguish in her body language. It was not his intent to cause her more, however, he felt he deserved to know the truth. The whole truth.

"My mother," Najya whispered. "She and my father left this life for the next when I was quite young." She felt him as he moved closer; could feel the heat radiating from his body and longed to feel the comfort of that heat wrap around her and bring her a contentment she had never known before. "She visits me in times of need. She is a guide, of sorts. My connection."

Telling himself how wrong he was, how foolish he was being, he reached out for her. Light and gentle, his hands rested on her shoulders and he forced himself to keep from pulling her into his arms. Instead, he turned her to face him. He needed to learn more. "Your connection? To the underworld?"

Shaking her head softly, she tried to explain. "To Isis. It is difficult to explain, or for anyone not of my bloodline to believe."

Ardeth nodded. "Please, tell me of your bloodline. What is it that draws you to Isis?"

Najya frowned when he urged her down onto the bedding and sat next to her. She felt no animosity from him; all the frenzied emotions from moments past were gone. Slowly she removed the tjet amulet from around her neck and handed it to him.

He examined it closely. "This...is ancient."

She nodded briefly and accepted the amulet when he returned it to her hand. "It has been passed down from mother to daughter for untold generations. It was given to the High Priestess Neffara from the Goddess herself," Najya explained.

Ardeth's eyes widened with understanding. "You are the descendant of Neffara? She was said to be a most powerful priestess."

Najya's lips pressed into a thin line before she responded. "So it has been said. I possess some of her powers as well as some knowledge of her magic, but I..." she trailed off when Ardeth stood abruptly and moved away from her. "Do I frighten you, then? It would not surprise me."

Ardeth could hear the wounded inflection in her voice. Frightened? No. "Startled, not frightened. However, it does explain the things I have seen that you are able to do."

He turned, a half smile on his lips that caused her to smile in reflex. "Perhaps it would be best to talk more of this tomorrow as we ride. It is late and we must rise early."

In two strides he crossed the space between them and knelt on his haunches in front of her. Dark chocolate eyes locked onto deep sapphire as he touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. "You will tell me of everything, Najya. Promise me that."

Her eyes slid shut when she felt his fingertips graze her cheek lightly. She had to stop herself from leaning into his touch. "Everything," she whispered. Before she could open her eyes, he was gone. She was alone with her thoughts and they promised to give her no peace in which to find sleep of any kind.

************

To be continued...