TEARFUL FAREWELLS & VISIONS

With a squalling infant in the crook of each arm, Leven stood with Ardeth for as long as she could.  The day was particularly bright and the sand was blowing fiercely.  He wouldn't hear of her coming out into this, not with the babies.  He placed gentle kisses on the foreheads of the children and then gazed helplessly at his wife.  They had already said a proper and long goodbye in private, but he found himself wanting to take her into his arms and drag her out the door with him.  He hated these brief breaks.  It drove him mad to stay with her for weeks on end, making love to her, loving his children, and then leaving it all behind.  Leven had mused once that 'warriors for God' didn't have vacation days or sick leave.  Pushing himself, he turned and left her.  Leven turned away herself to put the babies back down.  She stood and stared at the children for a very long time.  Her heart pounded in her chest and she desperately ached to see Ardeth one more time before he was totally out of ear and eyeshot.  If she could find someone to stay with the babies for just a little while… 

Ardeth's mind was focused and alert.  The blowing sand was incredibly harsh, but not as harsh as the pain attacking his heart.  He hadn't wanted to leave his wife, not after she admitted having some type of dream she could not tell him about.  In a sense, he should have known better.  However, what other choice did he have?  He rode onward, literally forcing himself to strive on.  He would return to his wife and children soon enough.  From behind, he thought he heard his name being called.  He stopped his horse and listened carefully.  The wind was kicking up a fuss and he wondered if he had simply heard the howling and associated it with a call.  Ignoring it for a moment, he commanded his horse onward again.  He heard the voice once more.  Stopping again, he turned and saw his wife coming toward him, waving frantically.  She had covered her head and face to protect herself against the hissing sand.  Without waiting for her to meet him, he rode toward her at almost a full gallop.  What was she thinking? 

"What are you doing," he asked, his voice slightly muffled behind the ghutrah.  He offered his hand to her and he pulled her up to the horse.  "Leven?"

She hugged him fiercely, wrapping her arms around him, burying her face into the side of his neck.  "I couldn't let you leave without one more touch."

If the sand weren't blowing so fiercely, he'd kiss her.  He didn't care what was proper and what wasn't.  "You must go," he said.  "You must go, or I cannot."

"I know.  I love you."

*  *  *

That evening, Ardeth and his men made camp just as the sun had lost its battle with the moon.  Despite the blowing sand, they had traveled many miles today.  However, all of them were exhausted.  The others sat together and ate, but Ardeth wasn't in the mood.  He supposed he was pouting.  He hadn't labeled his behavior as such, but it was one of the words Leven used when she said someone wasn't getting his way.  He preferred to think of it more as brooding.  Grown men didn't pout.  Yet, he lay back inside the relative comfort of his tent and pouted anyway.  He thought it ironic that he felt this way, but it always happened to him on his first night away from home.  He understood why many of his men did not marry.  It was difficult.  How many times had he been tempted to turn around and go back?  How many times had he nearly dragged his wife along with him?  If it were practical to travel with two tiny infants in such a way, he would have packed up the entire family.  You are ridiculous, you fool, he thought.  How safe was she and the babies in this environment?  He was simply allowing his heart to lead him.  He would be back home soon enough.  While he pouted, he closed his eyes and tried to relax.  At first, all he could see were the gold of Leven's eyes and the shiny cascade of her hair.  He reached for that imagine, reached for it and embraced it.

*  *  *

Sharîk had been dead for only a short time.  Ardeth's grief was fresh and gnawing at the pit of his stomach.  The only light in his life was little Gadiel.  He loved the boy so very dearly, but he couldn't spend much time with him.  He was at the village, visiting Gadiel, when Hashim summoned him.  Apparently, a group of people had been found riding through the heart of the creature's realm, and for whatever reason they had, decided to linger.  Those foolish enough to stray there were either driven out by the Medjai, or dealt with through the evil curse of Imhotep and his minions.  It was information Ardeth could not ignore, no matter how comfortable he was with his people or Gadiel.  Without saying goodbye to his godson, he rode out that night with Hashim to face the group.  He hoped that the intruders had only strayed there by accident, and didn't want to wage a battle.  Whichever way it turned out, he was ready.

It took a couple of days to reach the fringes of the lost city.  Cautiously, the men watched the group of people ever so curiously.  They had obviously made camp and were just about ready to continue their journey.  Ardeth noticed that they didn't appear to be Egyptian.  They seemed exotic and foreign.  The women wore pristine white garments seemingly wrapped around their shoulders and flowing down to their feet.  The men had darker clothing, but the colors were brighter somehow.  They were very different than any group the Medjai had ever seen.  None of them appeared to be armed.  Ardeth commanded the others to approach them cautiously from the outside in while he and Hashim would ride toward them.  They would face off nicely and then proceed aggressively if it called for it.  Ardeth had long since abandoned his slash first ask questions later command style.  Having O'Connell aiding in the destruction of the creature and his domain had taught him a bit of civility, so to speak.  Be that as it may, any intruders were considered dangerous until they proved themselves otherwise.  As the others closed in behind the caravan, Hashim and Ardeth drew nearer.  When the group spotted the warriors, they halted completely.  They exchanged excited conversation in a language Ardeth had never heard before.  How would they communicate with the intruders without aggressiveness?  Yet, he didn't want to hurt them if it could be avoided. 

Gazing at the strange people, Ardeth removed his ghutrah and opened his mouth, "Do you speak English?  Arabic?"

At first, no one stepped forward and he was unsure how he would communicate with them now.  Before he asked the question again, a petite woman appeared at the head of the group.  Her skin was dark, darker than his, and her eyes were as black as onyx.  The white of her headdress rested beautifully against her skin in dramatic contrast.  She had a gentle beauty about her, and she gazed up at him with interest.  He would never forget her name:  Aulani.   "I do," she said, her voice demure but brave at the same time.

Gruffly, Ardeth barked, "What are you doing here?  This territory is not to be tread upon by outsiders."

She bowed before him and he watched curiously.  "We are in a caravan toward Syria.  I am to marry a King."  She swept her arm around the group.  "This is my family."

Ardeth nodded.  "We will lead you out.  You are not to trespass on these grounds."

He didn't fail to notice how her black eyes followed him, watching his every move.  He couldn't understand why she stared at him as she did if she were promised to a King.  Ardeth wasn't certain she had been telling the truth.  It didn't matter.  They would lead the group out and continue the guard.  That night, they were forced to make camp due to a weird dry storm.  The lightning spooked the horses and none of the men needed broken necks.  Ardeth had his own tent, as usual, and kept to himself for most of the night.  He had heard the others commenting on how beautiful the woman was, but he hadn't been swayed.  His grief was fresh and he had nowhere to put it.  A pretty face couldn't do much for him right now.  He lay back and tried to sleep, but his dreams were disrupted by images of Sharîk as she fell to the ground dying.  He wasn't aware that Aulani had spent most of the day and that evening staring at Ardeth whenever she had the chance.  All the men had similar markings on their faces, but his were different.  She was intrigued by the marks and the gruffness of the man who appeared to be the leader.  He was nothing like her intended.  This Ardeth was young, strong, handsome, and virile.  Her 'King' was old, senile, and flaccid.  She ached to go to the Chieftain, and as soon as her father fell asleep, she would take a walk.

Ardeth was startled awake by the rush of air entering his tent.  He sat up, thinking he was dreaming.  He watched as Aulani crawled into his tent on her hands and knees.  She was truly beautiful.  Instead of the thick dark hair he was accustomed to seeing, hers was arrow straight and thinner.  It was very long and jet-black, with an almost blue hue.  Her face was delicate and round with slightly full lips and a petite nose.  Her body was that of a woman, of course, but she was small and tiny, like a child.  He was shocked that she had come to him, but not disappointed.  However, Ardeth knew this was not proper and if her father saw her in his tent, he would come for him.

"What are you doing," he demanded.

She said nothing.  Instead, she touched his cheek, seemingly fascinated by the marks.  She whispered something to him in her strange language and then translated it for him:  'beautiful.'  He reached out to her, perhaps to shove her back or to get her out of his tent, but she grabbed his hands before he had the opportunity.  He couldn't deny she was lovely or that she had stirred something awake in him.  He had taken lovers before, but this wasn't right.  She was promised to another, and he made it a point not to interfere with a union.  However, she took his hands and placed them over her breasts.  He wanted to protest, to argue with her, but he couldn't.  She pushed his hands back and he sat gawping at her.  She drew her wrap away from her body and she was naked underneath.  He leaned up and back on his elbows, stunned. 

"You," he uttered, "You are promised to another man."

She nodded.  "That I am, but he is not half the man you are.  When you lead me out of here, I will be out of your sight forever.  Tonight, I want to taste you, sample you."  He said nothing, only continued to stare at her as if she'd lost her mind.  "I have never seen a man as beautiful as you, nor will I ever again.  I cannot let you inside me for I am sure you would put me with child.  Lay back and let me pleasure you." 

Aulani drew away the covers and didn't hesitate to free him.  His first lover so very many years ago had been Ginsi.  She had introduced him to the wicked sins of the flesh.  Aulani had introduced him to another facet.  Up until that night, he had never had a woman's mouth upon him.  It felt heavenly and his body responded no matter how hard his mind tried to fight it.  As with Ginsi, it felt as if he were experiencing it as it happened.  He gazed down at the top of the woman's head.  Her hair was black, not blonde.  Who was this woman and what was she doing to him?  It was the East Indian princess, but not.  Unlike the real situation, halfway through the act, she stopped and gazed up at him.

"More," she asked sweetly, her eyes glowing evilly.

This woman, whoever she was, was not Aulani.  She was not the other fly-by-night lover he had had.  She was in body, but not spirit.  He wanted more, needed it.  She had driven him as mad as Leven could, but she was not his wife.  He did not love her.  He would not betray Leven's trust by allowing this dream image to continue with this.  He had allowed Aulani, but that was before Leven, before he fell so deeply in love.  He shoved the woman back.  He had no idea how so much space had suddenly appeared in the confines of his tent, but there was enough room to shove her across an expanse of floor space.

"I do not know who you are, but I do not want you to touch me again," he growled toward her.

She smiled at him.  "This is your dream, Chieftain.  You are dreaming of what happened.  What I gave you.  Don't you want to finish the dream?"

"Get away from me.  You sicken me."

"We'll see, Medjai, we'll see."

*  *  *

Ardeth awoke in a cold sweat.  He looked all around him, and saw nothing but darkness.  He sat up, running his hands over his face and through his hair.  Another dream of a former lover.  What purpose did these dreams serve?  He longed to be with his wife.  Perhaps she could have given him an idea about what was going on.  Whatever it was, he wanted it to go away.  Would it?  His throat was parched and he dug around until he found his canteen.  He took very small sips of the precious water inside.  It had to last him for a while.  After his throat was soothed for the time being, he laid back again.  He thought of his wife and wondered if she were awake or with the babies or thinking of him as he was her.

*  *  *

With the babies sleeping quietly in their beds, Leven crept into the room her grandfather had designated as a prayer room.  She used it to store his book and journal.  She shook her head a little and smiled.  She had yet to think of them as hers.  She took the book and sat on the floor with it.  Splaying it out on her lap, she began thumbing through it, trying to make sense of the Arabic scrawls.  She had yet to learn to read the language.  She could barely speak it and had to rely on Ardeth when she got stuck.  She flipped through page after page and saw nothing.  Sighing, she dug around in the middle of the book and took out the journal.  Part of it was written in English and the other in Arabic.  She hoped what she needed to find was in English.  She had no idea how anyone could learn this language.  Impatiently, she looked through the journal, but wasn't finding anything useful to her [at least not useful regarding her husband].  Frustrated, she leaned back.  The name of the goddess, Raiyur, was one she hadn't heard before.  She knew of several gods and goddesses, but not one with such an unusual name or disposition.  Odd and unsettling.  She was frightened for her husband.  Although Ardeth hadn't seen her looking, she searched his body as he slept and found the little black mark below his left ankle.  It was the same one Adnan had, the same that baby Ardeth had had in her dream.

Annoyed now, Leven set the prayer book and journal aside.  She knew that her grandfather had to have some other information around somewhere.  For Pete's sake, he was the damn record keeper, wasn't he?  It was a job she had now, and she needed to find it all.  Her grandfather had kept his records and documents in various chests, protecting them from the air, moisture, and light.  He knew of every other damn curse in the universe, knew of every other damn god/goddess, so he should know of this Raiyur.  The first chest she came upon was hidden behind Hazz's altar.  She had seen this chest before and knew it was more sacred to him than the prayer book.  She had never looked inside it, thinking it his personal chest.  However, she felt that if she didn't open this chest, it would mean that something would happen to her beloved husband.  Unlike most of Hazz's chests, this one was locked and needed a key.  She groaned a little and wondered what she would do now.  Of course, she had never allowed something as silly as a locked chest to stop her; she decided to search around for the key.  Leven turned and she heard an audible pop.  The noise caught her completely off guard and she jumped.  She yipped a little and turned back around.  The chest had come open on its own. 

Since meeting and falling in love with Ardeth Bay, she had been exposed to many supernatural and mystical forces.  However, it never failed to scare the shit out of her when it occurred.  Apparently, her grandfather intended for her to know what was in this chest.  She kneeled before it, thanking Hazz profusely, and looked inside.  There were other books, other journals, but she didn't know to whom they belonged.  Should she touch them?  Dare she?  She picked up one of the old books and lifted it as gently as she lifted her babies.  As with Hazz's prayer book, there was a journal in the middle.  She cracked it open and saw that it was more of her grandfather's scrawl, but at least this was written in English.  She thumbed through the journal and spotted a date:  1902.  It drew her attention immediately.  It was the year of Ardeth's birth.  She read through page after page.  At first, she thought she had hit another brick wall.  She came close to closing the journal and book and giving up for the time being.  However, two names stopped her:  Altair and Leilah.

With her heart beating hard in her chest, she read over the passage that mentioned Altair and Leilah.  The great Chieftain, Altair was taken down today, and his wife went with him.  He bears the mark of Raiyur as his son Ardeth.  If the curse is not broken, Ardeth will be next in line.  Lufti has taken on responsibility for the boy.  She closed the journal.  Jesus.  This was telling her something her dream had already confirmed.  The couple she had seen was Ardeth's parents; they were not Lufti and Cantara.  Raiyur.  Ardeth bore the mark of Raiyur.  What was this mark?  The only mark that hadn't been put on him was the one below his left ankle, the same one that adorned her son.  She was uncertain of the significance of the mark, but she remembered her dream.  The voice of Raiyur was threatening and demanding.  She wanted Ardeth for whatever deed she had to serve.  She needed to reach out to her husband, bring him back to her, because if she didn't, she might not ever see him again.

Leven put away the book and the journal.  She secured them in the chest and placed it back into her grandfather's hiding place.  She checked on the babies and noticed that they were both still asleep.  She prayed that they would not awaken for a bit so that she could try to reach her husband.  It wasn't often that she called to him, but it was necessary.  She sat down in the middle of the pallet where she could feel his presence the most [as much as she had so long ago].  She fingered her half of the Isis amulet.  She wore it only in Ardeth's absence, as he wore his own.  Leven reached out to Ardeth, called to him as her body went into a trance.  Her eyes closed and tightened with the strain.  She could feel all her body's energy flowing out and around, zapping her strength.  She tried to touch his brain, to caress his heart, but it wasn't working.  Her reaching hand hit a wall, it was one that she could not penetrate.  Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.  She had never been unable to reach him.  A jealous goddess had driven her out, had taken possession of her husband.  Oh maHabbi.  Wainak? [Oh love.  Where are you?]