SEARCH PARTY

Reginald and Tehotu were sitting together in Tehotu's study.  From somewhere upstairs, both men heard the uncontrollable sobs of Tarita mingled with the ever-present rough and tumble racket made by the Aciquilla boys.  Tehotu had yelled out at the boys several times today, but nothing he said ever seemed to work.  If he had his way, he would beat them senseless.  The children were spoiled.  He thoroughly believed that beating a child was the only way to make him or her a good person.  He wasn't necessarily upset that Laurel had left.  After all, his intention had been to marry her off as soon as possible and get her out of his house.  What had him quite angry was the fact that she had ditched Reginald.  His friend and business partner seemed honestly taken with the girl.  It broke Tehotu's heart to see the look of despondence on his face.  When they found Laurel, she would marry Reginald immediately with no questions asked or protests voiced.  He would accept no arguments from her mother, either.  Tehotu Aciquilla ruled his house and his word was law.  Laurel was stubborn, a trait she had apparently inherited from her true father.  He was taken with the girl, had treated her just as well as his boys, but he never truly loved her as a father should.  Tarita was much too enamored [even to this day] with Laurel's father.  It had taken him years to realize this, but as each year passed, Laurel took on more and more characteristics of her professor father.  It brought out even more of Tarita's hidden love.  He hadn't asked many questions about the man, because Tarita wouldn't give over the information.  However, he knew she kept a picture hidden somewhere, and if he ever found it, he would shred it into a billion bits.  The two men had gone to the study to discuss how they could go about finding Laurel.  They had gathered under the pretense of aiding Tarita and making it all better for her, but both men wanted her back for completely selfish reasons.

After a heated argument with Tarita, Tehotu had figured that Laurel might have booked passage to Egypt.  Screaming in tears, Tarita had told him that Laurel heard their argument and she was forced to tell her about Bart.  It was a name that hadn't been spoken in his house, ever.  He was more than tempted to let it go.  If Laurel wanted to chase after a man more than likely dead, then she could do so.  Yet, the thought of having Reginald taking over his entire business was more than appealing and he couldn't do that without some type of familial connection.  Laurel wasn't his daughter, but she bore his name, and she could produce heirs.  Not only that, but Reginald could also run the deal before his sons were old enough to step in.  He didn't want to disappoint his friend. 

While Tehotu sat and figured out their game plan, Reginald stared down into his snifter of brandy.  Tehotu hadn't elaborated about why Laurel ran off, he had simply stated that they needed to get together and find her.  Reginald was upset in his own right, of course, and it was for similar reasons as to why Tehotu was shaken.  Losing Laurel meant losing all that money.  The girl was only secondary in his mind.  He lusted for the money more than her body.  However, it would be nice to finally touch her the way he wanted.  If he ever got her alone again, he would ensure he'd touch her enough to last a lifetime.  He was only halfway listening to Tehotu's plans; he was in a lusty daze, thinking about the enormous bank account he could access as the son-in-law of his partner.  He began to pay attention when the other man mentioned Egypt.  Reginald was no stranger to the country.  He had made several trips there examining [plundering] various artifacts.  In fact, he had examined [stolen] the amulet that the menacing fellow had asked for.  What if he were to take a few men and make his own expedition to Egypt?  Laurel knew nothing about the country or its terrain.  It wouldn't take long to find her.  He could conquer her out on the desert, bring her home, and marry her.  His hands could be all over the Aciquilla fortune by the first of the month.  It was enough to make him open his mouth and speak up.

*  *  *

The sun was blinding and the heat excessive.  Accustomed to mostly cloudy nights and rainy days, Laurel had no idea how long she could last.  She kept her head covered as best as she could and conserved her water.  The robed men weren't too far ahead of her, but they also hadn't bothered looking back, either.  If they did, it wouldn't take much for them to spot her.  Again, it was naïve of her to believe she was safe out here on the barren land.  She wasn't aware that from a distance, she was being followed and observed.  A band of marauders led by a fellow named Malja kept a close watch on the woman.  She rode on a camel not far behind a group of Medjai warriors.  Apparently, she was the woman of one of the men, probably belonging to the one riding lead.  Malja had taken immediate notice of her.  From what he could see, she was different and definitely not Egyptian.  She could serve as a little amusement for a few hours.  Perhaps the warriors would have something of value on them.  He called out a command in Arabic.  His men were set to attack.

Ardeth called for the others to stop.  Something wasn't right.  He felt as if they were being followed.  The muttered voices of his men told him that they had suspected as much as well.  They turned to ride in the opposite direction to find their stalker.  Laurel gasped aloud as she watched the small band of men stop and then turn.  She made her own turn.  It was time to hide.  The stubborn camel didn't want to listen to her command, but she pushed it to gallop away just long enough for her to find a place to duck.  She had no idea what the men would do to her once they saw her.  She sighed when she found a relatively out of the way spot, thinking that she was undetectable.  Beside her, the camel collapsed, breathing heavily.  If the creature lived another two weeks, she would be surprised.  The voices of the men grew louder and louder.  Eventually, they would hear the snorting of the camel.  Before the men found her, she heard a thick, accented shout ("Fên banât?"  [Where is the girl?]), followed by another ("ê banât?" [What girl?]).  There was no time for a response.  After an angered cry, the next thing Laurel heard was the clashing of blades.

Laurel looked up from her hiding place and had to bite back a gasp.  The man who had saved her, the one who had pulled her out of the churning sea, was fighting to the death with another man.  Their swords glittered in the shimmering sun and she watched in horror as he arced up severely, slicing into the man's chest, and leaving a hidden gash.  She wouldn't have known he had been cut at all if blood hadn't begun to gush from the wound.  Realizing for the first time that he had been taken out, the man fell face first into the sand.  Horrified, Laurel couldn't move for a moment.  She had just watched a man who saved six lives murder another in cold blood.  She quickly realized that she had made a grave mistake in following them.  She ducked down to check on her camel, noticing that the animal had died.  Panicking now, she had no idea what she would do.  She could not proceed and had no way to go back.  The men would find her now, find her and cut her to ribbons.  She still had two legs and could run.  She listened carefully as the men passed conversation back and forth ("Bitshûf henâk ayy Hâga?" [Do you see anything?]  "Lâ.  Hiyi biqdir kân khabba." (No.  She may be hiding.)].

They drew closer and closer.  Run, Laurel.  Put your feet to the ground and run.  If they find you, your blood will stain the sand as well.  Taking a deep breath, she stood and took off in a dead run.  Of course, for one unaccustomed to running in the sand, Laurel's dead run was no more than a desperate type of slogging motion.  Shocked, Ardeth and his men watched the running woman with some interest.  Ardeth had seen her before, hadn't he?  He nodded.  Yes.  She was the one who looked like the man they all knew as Ustâd.  Not bothering to bring his horse to a full gallop, he followed behind the woman, telling the others to stay back.  She had apparently witnessed the battle and was scared witless as a result.  The closer he drew to her, the faster she tried to run.  If she didn't stop soon, she would fall over.  When Ardeth judged he was close enough to her, he slowed his pace, and leaned over toward her.  One-handed, he grasped her around the waist and lifted her up until she was settled almost perfectly into a sidesaddle position against his body.  She wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't leave her.  The odor of sweat, blood, and sand assaulted her senses.  It was her time to die.  Hadn't you once said you would rather die than marry Reginald Portafoy?  Well, your wish is granted.

"'Amal mish kân khâ'f," he said.  [Do not be afraid.]

Should I speak?  Should I beg for my life?  What is he saying to me?  "I don't…don't understand."

"You do not have to be afraid," he said.

She noticed a slight rolling of his "R's" in his speech.  He was telling her not to be afraid just after he had cut a man to ribbons?  Was he kidding?  She wasn't about to argue or fight with him, not yet.  He had her at a disadvantage.  When she had more room to play, she could escape.  For the time being, she relaxed.  Ever cautious of what her next move might be, Ardeth slowly rode back toward the group of men awaiting him.  He knew she wouldn't immediately tell him her name, so he would simply think of her as Dâyi' nafs [lost soul].  He noticed that the other men had gathered her things [the few that she had in her possession].  Laurel was completely and utterly terrified, and the movement of the horse made it worse.  She had no intentions of relying on this man, this killer, for safety, but she had little choice.  She grasped the front of his robe, the move catching him off guard.  He smiled a little.  It was a smile that would have set her at ease immediately, but she didn't see it.

When they rode up to the others, Laurel's hand was still gripping his robe.  Ardeth commanded two of the men to lead onward.  The other two would stay behind in case others had decided to follow.  Laurel tried not to look at the dead men or the camel.  She felt his large hand on hers for a moment as he pried her fingers off his robe.  Without jostling her body an inch, Ardeth jumped down to the ground and joined the two remaining warriors.  He issued another command and curiously, Laurel watched as the three of them gathered the bodies.  Grimly, they began to bury the dead.  Fascinated in spite of herself, she wondered if she might have misjudged these men.  However, she wouldn't give up her resolve just yet.  As soon as the task was completed, the men exchanged more words, and she held her breath as Ardeth approached.  Dâyi' nafs was watching him carefully, fearfully, as he made his way toward her.  He would simply offer her the only two choices she had.  She could either come back to the village with them, or stay here and succumb to thirst and hunger.

Watching her shrink away the slightest, he said, "I am not going to hurt you," he assured her.  "I believe those men," he began, pointing at the mounds of sand, "were watching you.  Your camel is dead and it appears that you know nothing of desert travel.  I can take you back to our village, have you outfitted properly, and then help you find the way to whatever destination awaits you.  You can also stay here, but if you choose that, you will not be alive for long."

Laurel gazed down at his serious face.  Throughout his entire speech, he hadn't looked away from her once.  Nothing about him suggested that he was lying or trying to mislead her.  She had been following them for almost an entire day, searching for her father, and he was offering her a clear free ticket.  However, could she trust him?  The images of his lethality could not leave her mind.  Yet, they had buried those killed.  Either option would lead her to death, but for the moment, she had no desire to die of thirst or starvation.  "Very well," she said. 

She made moves to get off his horse, but he stopped her.  "No.  I will lead."

"No.  I'll walk, you can ride," she stated stubbornly.

Ardeth had no time or patience to argue with her.  He was tired and eager to get back to the village.  "So be it," he said.  Without hesitating, he climbed onto the horse behind her.  "We both shall ride."

With two men in front and two behind, the small group made slow progress.  Ardeth didn't want to push his horse too hard.  The animal was carrying twice the weight he was accustomed to.  Not only that, but he was also aware that Dâyi' nafs was a bit terrified and the slightest wrong move would send her off screaming.  Despite her stubbornness and bravado, Ardeth sensed that she was very young, probably no more than eighteen.  Although his eighteenth year was only seven years past, he sensed an almost child-like quality about her.  He wanted to ask what she had come looking for, but it was also obvious that she didn't yet trust him.  They rode until the sun began to set and Ardeth scouted around for a campsite.  He left Dâyi' nafs sitting atop the horse as he led them to a spot that met his liking.  Laurel didn't hesitate to get off the animal once it stopped.  Her inner thighs were aching miserably.  Silently, she watched as he began setting up camp.  Fascinated, she saw that he had carried an entire tent rolled up in a little ball inside a knapsack attached to the horse's hindquarters.  He fussed with it a good half-hour, and Laurel had to hide her face a couple of times.  It was funny watching a man set about such a task without losing his temper.  His next move startled her a little.

He swept his hand around the area.  "You may sleep here, I will be fine outside," he said, giving off an aura that he wouldn't argue about this, either.

She shook her head.  "No.  It's yours.  I won't do that."

He pursed his lips for the slightest of moments.  "The desert nights are very cold.  You will discover this as soon as the sun sets."  He said nothing more as he approached the horse again and retrieved another knapsack.  This one held dried meats and fruit.  Nonchalantly, he lowered himself onto a packed cropping of sand and began to eat.  It didn't appear to be the most appetizing thing in the world, but as soon as Laurel saw the food, her stomach rumbled.  He glanced up at her.  "Are you hungry," he asked.  "I have plenty."

She wanted to say no.  She didn't want to rely on this man for much of anything.  She had already taken too much.  However, she was about to starve.  Accepting his offer without words, she sat near him and dug into the bag.  When she had what she wanted, he set the bag aside, making sure that she understood that she could have more if she wished.  Solemnly, she chewed and kept her eyes focused straight ahead.  This stranger had saved her life twice, but she didn't even know his name.  She wanted to tell him what was going on, but wasn't sure he cared to hear it.  She was nothing more than an intruder on his land.  There was still a chance that he would kill her without much provocation.  Please let it go, Laurel.  If he were going to kill you, he would have done so already.  Neither of them spoke to the other.  The stranger was likely brooding and Laurel was caught up in a daze.  Her life had changed abruptly in less than forty-eight hours.  What had she been thinking when she left home?  From the corner of her eye, she stole a glance at the robed man.  She still had trust issues with him and she wanted to keep her eyes on him.  She saw that his eyes were scanning the terrain, watching as the last of the light began to ebb away.  He bit into the dried meat and chewed distractedly.  It was at that moment that she realized he looked younger than he had first appeared.  Of course, now, he was relaxed and the snarl had left his face.  He actually looked no older than her, but how could that be possible?  He was obviously someone in power from the way he commanded the other men about.  They appeared years older than him, but they deferred to him without question.  Who are you?  Who are you and can you help me?

She didn't realize he had met her gaze until she suddenly saw more of his face.  She recoiled quickly.  A ghost of a smile touched his lips.  "You still think I will hurt you," he asked.  She said nothing, only quickly looked away and down at her feet.  "When you decide to sleep, there is an extra blanket in my knapsack."  She watched as he brought himself to his feet.  "Good night, Dâyi' nafs," he said before crawling into the makeshift tent.

Incredulously, she watched him until he completely disappeared.  For a moment, she was offended.  Not only was this man a cold-blooded killer, but he was also most ungentlemanly.  Wasn't it your idea that he take the tent?  He's only following your wishes.  Of course he was.  In that space of moments, Laurel realized that she was very spoiled.  This man was nothing like the men at home.  He wasn't willing to fall all over himself to please her.  He didn't need to.  She shook her head.  Oh yes.  She had a lot to learn.  Underestimating his warnings of the chilly night to come, Laurel attacked the food again and ate her fill.  It was clear that she wasn't his captive.  If she wanted to run, she was free to do so.  She was certain he would not stop her.  However, she didn't want to leave.  The thought of being stranded out here in the desert alone frightened her.  The men who had been killed were apparently after her.  The thought made her shiver. 

Not one to sleep heavily, Ardeth awoke a few hours later.  He wasn't sure what had roused him, but it was some sound, some small noise.  He wouldn't ignore it.  He had yet to forget that they were traveling with an extra person.  Perhaps what had awakened him was the girl.  Considering how frightened she was, she had probably gathered her things and ran.  It was her choice, of course, but he hated to see her running back into the danger awaiting her.  Slowly, Ardeth crawled toward the entrance of the tent and threw up the flap.  Dâyi' nafs had covered herself the best she could and curled up her body tightly.  He could almost see her shivering.  He had tried to tell her. 

Laurel awoke slowly when she felt two warm hands shaking her.  The instant she saw his face in hers, she tried to jerk back, but he held onto her shoulders.  "Get inside.  You are not accustomed to this climate," he told her. 

"No," she said sleepily, "I told you…"

"And I told you," he said.  "Get inside."

He had taken the stance and demeanor he had used earlier with the other men.  She was not one of his men.  She lifted her chin defiantly.  "I'm not moving.  You get inside."

Perhaps there was a little arrogance working within him as well.  How many people had said no to him since he had taken his place as Chieftain?  He was almost as offended as she.  It was obvious that she didn't understand why he was so insistent.  She was English and knew little of his world.  She watched silently as he turned from her.  She thought he was going to climb back inside the tent.  Instead, he dug around for a thick blanket and brought it out with him.  He chose his own spot on the sand and wrapped the blanket around his body.

"If you will not go inside, then neither will I," he said with a clear tinge of challenge in his voice.  "I suggest you sleep.  Tomorrow, the ride will be longer."

Laurel fixed her eyes on his face and wondered if the man was completely mad.  He closed his eyes and she assumed he had fallen asleep.  "You are a stubborn twit," she grumbled under her breath.

Once she closed her eyes, Ardeth smiled just the slightest.  He had clearly heard her insult.  He wasn't the only stubborn twit freezing to death tonight.

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To be continued…