BLOOD & SAND
The growing dusk was what brought Ardeth around. The pain in his side was enormous and he had lost some blood. From what he could see, the bullet had hit him in the side and exited his body totally. The wound seemed clean and he was more than certain none of his internal organs had been touched. Grimacing, he pulled himself up to his feet. He had to clean the wound to avoid infection. Ardeth wanted to shrug it all away and simply go after Laurel, but he realized that he was no good to her dead. He stripped down and pushed his body forward to the water so he could wash away the blood. He hissed in pain when the cold water hit the wound. Ardeth washed it before working his way back to his dedicated steed. The animal hadn't moved a muscle since the men took Laurel. He doctored the wound as best as he could and padded it with cloth ripped from the extra blanket. Keeping his teeth gritted together, he dressed slowly. The pain seemed to rip at him, digging and tearing. Perhaps it hurt so much because he allowed the men to take Laurel. If they harmed one hair on her head, he would rip them apart. You cannot move right now. How do you think you will rip anything apart?
* * *
The gang of men stopped and made camp earlier than Laurel was accustomed. It was still light outside and very hot. She sat astride the horse and watched the men set up the tents. She hoped Reginald didn't intend for her to share his. When their camp was ready, Reginald sent the one he called 'Bishop' to her. She watched solemnly as he untied the ropes. She was ever tempted to kick the hell out of him, but then she remembered what they had done to Ardeth. Then again, she didn't care if she suffered the same fate as he, just as long as she didn't have to marry Reginald. When her legs were undone, he took hold of her arm and assisted her down. Once they were close to Reginald, he pushed her forward into the other man's arms. She glared up at Reginald, but he only sneered at her. He had no trouble seeing that she hated him, but he didn't care. Soon enough, she would like him, and if she didn't, he'd still have her fortune under his belt. Without another word to her, he forced her inside the tent. From outside, she heard Reginald telling Bishop to 'watch her like a hawk.' It was hotter than hell outside and even worse inside the stuffy little tent. There was nothing else for her to do other than sleep. It was the perfect escape. However, her dreams were haunted. Over and over, she kept seeing Ardeth falling to his knees as blood seeped through his fingers. The horror of watching him fall was much worse than watching the marauders being sliced to ribbons. She had no idea if Ardeth had died, but if he were still alive, he would die without assistance. She had gotten him involved with her plight; she had dragged him into her personal hell. If she had only stayed at home and did as Tehotu wanted, none of this would have happened. She was startled awake by a cruel hand gripping her shoulder. She blinked up into the face of her intended. She gasped aloud when she noticed that he had her diary in hand. She had detailed everything that had happened during her journey, including Ardeth's making love to her.
"I see you're like your mother when it comes to native peoples," he said with a sneer. "You will likely give birth to his bastard child, won't you? What made him so much better than me? I simply don't understand. He can give you nothing that I can."
Defiantly, she lifted her chin and fixed him with an enraged glare. "He has more nobility in his little finger than you have in your entire body. He is what constitutes a man. You are what constitutes worm filth."*
Callously, he tossed the diary aside. "That very well may be, Laurel, but that man is dead and no longer has access to you. I, on the other hand, do."
Before she had time to blink, he shoved her onto her back, ripped the rope from around her wrists, and covered her mouth with his hand so she couldn't scream. "You submitted to him readily enough, didn't you? 'The feel of him inside me is something I could never describe.' Does that sound familiar to you? You weren't as goddamned innocent as I thought. Right now, you will submit to me. Don't scream or fight, I have no problem hitting you if necessary."
He removed his hand and quickly replaced it with his mouth. When she refused to give his tongue access inside her mouth, he dug his fingers into her arm and squeezed hard, cutting off the circulation, pinching her. She wouldn't submit. He would have to kill her first. He didn't bother unbuttoning her shirt. Instead, he tore it open and almost immediately, his hand went to one of her breasts and squeezed it just as hard as he squeezed her arm. She moaned angrily against his lips, pushing at him with her free arm. It didn't work. He was in a mad frenzy of lust. He ended the brutal kiss, but quickly covered her mouth with his hand again. The moment she felt his disgusting tongue fluttering over her nipples, she began calling his name from beneath his hand, begging, pleading with him to stop. Eventually, he uncovered her mouth so he could begin the process of stripping her down. When his hands were inside her pants, she opened her mouth and began to bargain with him.
"If you stop, I'll do whatever you want later. I'll marry you without a fight, without a word of protest. Please. Don't you think it will be much better without me fighting you? Please, Reginald, I will do anything you want if you stop."
He discontinued the assault long enough to fix her with a stony gaze. "I can do what I want now." To prove his point, he grabbed her nipple and pinched it hard.
If I ever get my hands on a gun, I'll shoot you right between the legs, killing what you seem to be so damn proud of. "You can, but I'll fight you. You want to take me amongst all these men? You want them to hear my screams? Stop what you're doing and I promise to submit. I'll do whatever you want as many times as you wish."
He didn't care if his men heard her scream or struggle. It certainly wouldn't be the first time or the last. Yet, she had a point. It was so much better with a willing, complacent female. The prospect of her doing whatever he wanted was one he couldn't argue against. That beautiful mouth and those delicate hands wrapped snugly around him willingly were two thoughts not easily pushed aside. "I'll stop, for now. When we return to England, our wedding will take place immediately. Before I leave you, I want you to consider this. You had better pray that you are not carrying that Nomad's bastard child. If you are and I discover it, I will ensure that it never sees the light of day. Unlike Tehotu, I'm far from pussy whipped."
Reginald left her where he had thrown her down, but she quickly sat up as soon as he was gone. Sighing heavily with relief, she rearranged her torn clothing. Tomorrow, she would have to discard them. She buried her face in her hands and finally allowed herself to cry. She was even more thoroughly trapped now than ever before. She had no doubt that Ardeth was dead and she would never forgive herself for aiding in his demise. She would now have to follow through with the wedding unless she found a way to escape. She couldn't believe the sheer cruelty of the man Tehotu trusted with his precious business. There was no child inside her. Of that, she was certain. Not long after they left Ardeth to die in the scorching sun, she had felt the first twinges of pain she had grown to associate with her monthly. Although it would have only increased the terror, loss, and drama, she wished there was a child. At least then, part of him would still dwell the earth.
* * *
Ardeth tried to sit his horse, but the pain made the task impossible. He needed a healer, but he couldn't go on or back. His father and Ustâd were awaiting word at the village. However, how long would it take for them to become suspicious? They both knew how long it took to get to Cairo. It would take days and by then, he would be dead. Yet, he wasn't concerned about himself. His only thought, his only worry was Dâyi' nafs. Ardeth didn't want to imagine what the man who took Laurel had in mind for her. He had seen the look on Reginald's face. The khaTTâf [kidnapper] had known what Laurel had given Ardeth and murder was on his mind. Defeated for the time being, Ardeth dragged his body over to the green grass and rested quietly. Perhaps if the pain abated, he could sit his horse and ride on. The grass and shaded area was cool, but he could feel sweat trickling down his chest. Knowing he was going nowhere, he came out of his robes and sat bare-chested against a tree. He glanced down at the makeshift bandage and saw that his wound had begun bleeding again. The trickle was slower, but he probably tore it open when he tried to ride away. He had enough food and water to last two days. Regardless of whether he had healed or not, he would ride out no later than that. Laurel needed him; he could feel it with his body and soul. Twice, he had failed her, but he wouldn't let it happen again. Exhausted now, he called out to his horse. He needed water. Water and rest.
* * *
Just hours after Ardeth and Laurel left the village, Bart Robinson immediately began to feel guilty. He had seen the look on her face and knew that she had felt abandoned. It wasn't that he thought the discovery of the scrolls was more important than her, but he was nervous and scared. He had never known about her, had never suspected he had a daughter. It seemed odd gazing into his own eyes. Until he could deal with it, he couldn't be with her, so he felt justified sending her away with the young chieftain. Basically, he had no balls. He and Bahir had taken the scrolls to the other elders and examined them carefully, but he was distracted. Bahir noticed the distraction, immediately understanding what was running through the man's mind. It took approximately an hour and a half for Bahir and Bart to prepare for their own journey. While Ardeth slept against a tree in the cool oasis, his father and Ustâd were very close to him.
* * *
Ardeth found himself back at the village. Nothing had happened between him and Dâyi' nafs. He had led her out and back to Cairo uneventfully. He could now return to his life and live as he normally did. He wouldn't have to face her, to see the hurt so evident in her eyes. She would go on and live with her father in Cairo, and he would go on as well. He noticed that he was walking through the village but it didn't appear as if anyone was here. Had he stumbled upon an ancient city? Yet, this was his home, this was where he had been born and where he would die. He heard the soft laugh of a woman. The sound was familiar to his ears, but he could see no one. Ardeth turned in a full circle to find the source of this voice. He heard the laugh again, but this time when he made his full turn, he saw the woman. Her name left his lips for the first time in ten years: Waqi. She was the young woman he was contracted to marry. Although they would marry within months, he hadn't spoken a dozen words to her in a year or more. He had no doubt that she would make a fine wife, but when he saw her, he felt nothing. She laughed again before disappearing from sight. Shaking his head, Ardeth continued down the sandy road, every now and then looking for signs of life. He heard a second laugh. This one was different from the first. However, this time, he saw the woman before he completed one turn. Laurel. Unlike his reaction to Waqi, he felt every emotion a man could as his eyes settled on her face. She had come back to haunt him after he allowed her to be snatched away like a precious gem. How could that be if nothing had happened? Where were these thoughts coming from? Suddenly, he found himself stripped from the waist up. Her perfect, delicate fine-boned hand reached out to touch a wound at his side. Her touch was more like a stroking motion. He looked down and noticed that he was bleeding. Her hand continued to stroke the wound and it didn't hurt at all. Strangely enough, her hand wasn't covered in blood. Her free hand came up to rest on the side of his cheek. She whispered to him in Arabic [She does not know Arabic]: "Inta arâda 'âsh li maHabbi tâni marra." [You will live to love me again] Her lips touched his very gently and she drew away. He didn't want her to leave him. If she left, he would never see her again. When she drew away, he tried to go after her, but like Waqi, she disappeared. Ikhtâ [choose]. Choose. Choose what? A blast of cold air enveloped him and he began to shiver. The trembling of his body made his side ache even more. What was this? Blood?
Ardeth jerked awake in the midst of a hard shiver. It was full on dark by then and he was still bare-chested. Near him, the horse slept peacefully. He wasn't sure what had brought him out of his dream. Was it the chill of the night or his wound? Dâyi' nafs still haunted his dreams and would likely do so for the rest of his life. Slowly, he stood and approached the sleeping horse. The moment he touched him, the animal came to life. He stroked the side of his neck and commanded him to stand still. He dug a blanket out of his knapsack and wrapped his body in it. He went back to the tree and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. He glanced at the wound, halfway expecting it to be bleeding, but it wasn't. He released a relieved breath and closed his eyes again.
* * *
After her brief nap earlier, Laurel couldn't go back to sleep. Actually, she was afraid to close her eyes. At any time, Reginald could come back ready to take her. She couldn't leave the tent because her captor had stationed one of his bulldogs right outside. She didn't have access to her belongings and was forced to stay in her torn garments. What would she do tomorrow? None of these men cared about her or what would happen to her. They would just as soon shoot her than look at her. There were too many men surrounding her and she wouldn't get far. The thought of Reginald or any of them touching her was disgusting. Yet, there was something else pricking her brain. Reginald was cruel, but he wasn't stupid. If he wanted Tehotu's money, he wouldn't dare kill her. He could beat her, but not take it any further than that. If she tried to run, what was the worst that could happen? Laurel switched positions inside the tent, lying flat on her stomach, and she pushed her head out of the tent. The bulldog taking the late night shift was sleeping on duty. Ignoring her gaping shirt and torn pants, she pushed her body out a bit more. When the man didn't move, she grew just a bit bolder and inched out. She had actually gotten up to her knees when she received a face full of sand. She recoiled with a low growl and beside her, the man grunted when Reginald's foot made contact with his arm.
"Wake up," he hissed. "You nearly let her get away." Without giving him a chance to explain, he shoved him out of the way. "This is my watch. If you're going to sleep, do so in your tent." Reginald looked down at the tent. He could just make out Laurel's huddled form. "Try that trick again and our deal is over."
"I was trying to get my clothes. I'm freezing to death," she said. "If you won't let me, will you bring them to me?"
"No, I won't," he told her. "You're less likely to run half naked. What were you running to, anyway? Your filthy pig lover? He's dead, Laurel, I made sure of that. Don't try my patience. You've done so once tonight and I won't let you do it again. Shut up and go to sleep. I'll bring your bag when the sun rises. I'm not giving back the diary; by the way, perhaps I'll use it as a guide to take you like your Nomad did. Maybe then, you'll brag on my sexual prowess."
"I'll submit to you," she said, her voice low and severe, "but I will never feel anything but disgust for you."
"You're only a toy for my amusement and will be as such for the rest of your life. I could care less what you feel for me, but when I get you alone, I'll make you eat every word you said. Perhaps I'll also make you eat every page you wrote. My one regret in all this was that he got you first. Nothing would please me more than to see you bleed. Go to sleep."
* * *
When the sun rose, Ardeth couldn't open his eyes. The ache in his side had begun to dull, but he was tired. The exhaustion he felt had nothing to do the bullet wound. Perhaps later, he would try to ride out again. By now, the men and Laurel were probably either in Cairo or very close. He heard the snort and whinny of a horse and he thought it was his. He forced his eyes open and focused them on two swiftly approaching figures. One of them called out ibn [son]. The other was saying something else, asking about his daughter. It took a few minutes for Ardeth to realize that he wasn't dreaming. He was looking at his father and Ustâd. How did they know he was here?
"Laurel," he croaked. "Did Laurel find you?"
The two men exchanged a look. "Laurel," Bart asked. "What are you talking about?"
"No," Ardeth whispered. "She couldn't come for you. Father, help me up. We must find her before they hurt her."
Bahir and Bart flanked him on each side and brought him to his feet. "No, son," Bahir said. "First, you must see a healer before your wound becomes infected."
"No," he said through clenched teeth. "I will go to a healer in Cairo after we find her. If we do not leave now, I will never see her again."
The two men exchanged a look. They both began to wonder exactly what had happened between their children out here in the desert. Saving the questions for later, they helped Ardeth gain his footing. He tended to the wound again and insisted on riding out today. He grimaced a little as he climbed up into the saddle. The ride would be difficult, but he didn't care. He didn't expect to find them in Cairo, but if he did, there would be one less Englishman on the face of the earth. He prodded his horse and rode at full gallop. Startled, Bahir and Bart followed along, barely keeping up. If they ever stopped, perhaps they would both receive an explanation.
*Thank you, Julianna, for allowing me to borrow your very apt 'worm filth.' It fit Reginald so very perfectly.
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To be continued…
