CHAPTER TWO

When Ardeth went out, he found Jean standing with Vosloo by her side. The camp was very quiet and the men were looking at Jean in awe. Ardeth looked at his men in puzzlement and turned towards the source of their shock. He gave a quick intake of breath as his eyes fell on Jean. She had taken off her turban, revealing her red hair; it was long, almost to her waist and the sun shining on it made it glow like the reddest sunset. That, combined with the light colors she was wearing, almost made her look like a goddess of old. She was oblivious to the warriors staring at her as the wind blew through her thick, unruly hair. She was beautiful. Never had he seen a woman that looked like she had been sculpted by the hand of Allah himself. When she finally became aware of how quiet the camp had become, she looked up and saw many pairs of eyes staring at her. She frowned and looked all around herself, trying to figure out what they were staring at. Finding nothing, she finally saw Ardeth and gave him a questioning look.

Ardeth turned to his men and barked an order at them in Arabic and everybody quickly went on about their business. He then turned to her guard. "Thank you, Vosloo. Now, you and five men will set up a tent for Jean. Make sure to provide her all the possible comfort under these circumstances."

"Do you have any luggage to be taken to your tent?"

"No…the airline lost it…All I have are this backpack and this purse."

"Vosloo, find her some clothes and take her things with you."

The man nodded and left promptly. Ardeth went over to Jean. "The color of your hair is seldom seen in my country. Most of their lives these men have only seen dark hair."

"And you?"

Ardeth looked at her hair thoughtfully. " I've seen it, as well as yellow, on some of the foreigners. But never have I seen the color of fire standing in the middle of my camp..." He reached out and touched a length of her hair, bringing it forward and letting it slip through his fingers. He liked the way it felt. Then, turning serious he told Jean "You will have to remain with us."

"I know…"

"Come, we need to talk." He led her inside his own tent, where he took off his turban, chaddor and main tunic, to reveal his features to Jean. He was tall, well over six feet and had the body of an athlete; He would have easily done justice to Michealangelo's David. His tan complexion and thick dark hair that fell in glossy waves to his powerful shoulders highlighted his chiseled features. His face looked like the sun had burst through a cloud as he smiled up at her, "Make yourself comfortable as I tell you a story."

Jean sat on the floor and stared at him. "Will you tell me your name?"

"Oh yes, I am sorry, I am Ardeth Bay"

"What shall I call you? Ardeth? Mr. Bay?"

"Just Ardeth."

"Nice name, Ardeth…now, tell me…"

He smiled and sat in front of her "For years, we, the Medjai, have protected the heritage of this land that is as sacred to us as a mother. We are a respected tribe, as we are guardians of the wealth and heritage of ancient Egypt, loyal protectors of the house of Pharaoh. We are feared and considered a mystery so no one would dare challenge us to our faces. Most people shudder at the thought of them coming into contact with the mysterious desert people with their tattooed faces and fierce ways, which comes to be us."

She smiled, "I wasn't afraid…well, maybe a bit. But how is it that you all speak English then?"

"When the English first started coming to our country years ago, it was decided that the Medjai Chief would learn their language, so as not to be taken in by the white man. Later, all of the Medjai warriors learned the language, for we found it very useful to listen in on conversations. And then, as we were engulfed by these times of changes, some traditions had to be changed… we are all educated, among other things."

Jean smiled and studied his face for a moment, having never really seen him like that before. He had a high forehead with thick, dark eyebrows, dark brown eyes with long black lashes, a long, straight nose and high cheekbones. His moustache and beard were neatly trimmed, framing a large mouth with a full lower lip. His hair was long and black, with the curly ends coming down to his shoulders, covering his ears. Her eyes traveled downward and she noticed his Adam's apple protruding from his long neck. She lifted her eyes back up to his and found him watching her in amusement. She looked down, blushing.

"Do I pass inspection?" he asked with a smile.

Jean looked up at him, hoping he didn't notice her blush. "I was merely wondering, what those marks on your forehead and cheeks mean?"

"They are ancient symbols of honor, reserved for the descendants of the royal guards to the pharaoh. When a boy passes to manhood and becomes a warrior respected by all, he makes the sacred oath of service and receives these marks. I wear these marks of courage, honor and duty, like my grandfather and my father did. These ancient symbols are placed in my hands and cheeks for all men to see them. Only a direct descendent of the Med-jai to Pharaoh Seti I can wear the tattoo's and serve as a Med-jai warrior."

"So then you're a descendant?" Jean asked fascinated by what Ardeth was telling her.

"Yes. I am a direct descendant of Mehemjet, the Med-jai warrior who led the Med-jai during the time of Imhotep." Ardeth answered proudly.

"Wow, so are you leader because you're a descendant of Mehemjet or because you were the best qualified?" She asked.

"Both." Ardeth sounded arrogant, but it was the truth.

Jean took his right hand and studied the tattoo, as she did so, the warrior felt a jolt of electricity at her touch. Oblivious to that, another question popped into her head.

"Did it hurt when they tattooed your face?"

He smiled, "Yes, it hurt, but not as much on my face as on my body."

She blushed. "I see. But you don't seem to have you lived in the desert your whole life"

"No, I was born in Cairo and lived there with my mother until I was fifteen. Then I came to live with my father in the desert, as a Medjai. But I left for some years, in order to get some education and now I travel most of the time between the Sahara, Cairo and other parts of the world, like your country."

"How do you know where I come from?"

"You are American from head to toe." She laughed. "Anyway, we have many businesses, we don't only live from protecting ancient burial sites. And speaking of such, tomorrow we will start our journey towards one of them: Hamunaptra."

" Where Imhotep is buried, right?" She smiled at his puzzled face. " Well, at least my dreams told me something."

A voice from outside asked to enter, and Ardeth authorized him. Jean recognized her captor.

"Jean," Ardeth said, "This is Ahmad Manheemi. Ahmad, this is Jean…although I believe you've already met."

The young man looked at her, terrified, and blurted "I am sorry, miss, I never…If I had known…"

"It's alright, Ahmad, you did what you have to do. Don't worry…oh, and call me Jean, please."

He looked at her gratefully as they shook each other's hands.

"I must leave now," Ardeth said, "You stay with her and distract her while I gone."

"Yes, Sir."

"I will be back soon, Jean"

"There's no rush, I am not going anywhere."

Ardeth left the tent smiling. Lord he had a nice smile, and the young warrior watched her with a thin smirk on his lips.

"Ahmad?"

"Yes?"

'God, he must not be any older than 18.' She thought. "How old are you?"

"I am 17 years old."

"You are very young."

"The youngest of the tribe. I've joined Ardeth's forces last year, after finishing my basic education."

"And Ardeth Bay, is he your leader?"

"Yes Jean, he is."

"Leader of…?"

"Leader of all the Med-jai."

"All…?" she gasped out.

'Yes, he is the leader of the 12 tribes of the Med-jai. You are not in any warrior's tent, you are in the Chieftain's tent."

Jean stared at him in shock. "Chieftain of the 12 tribes? How many people does that mean?"

"About a thousand warriors and all their families."

"That's quite a lot of people."

"Indeed."

They spent the time talking, and the man told her about the costumes and about life in the desert. Ardeth entered the tent and found them talking and looked at his youngest Medjai. He noticed the way in which he was looking at Jean, almost with adoration. He could tell that Ahmad had been instantly smitten by Jean's beauty and kindness.

"Ahmad, I need to have a word with you, outside."

They left the tent and outside Ahmad and Ardeth looked at each other.

"Master…I…" Ahmad began.

"You like this woman, this American woman. Don't you?"

"Yes. But in a way that is not about…"

"I know that. When we took the oath, we swore to protect the innocent. That is what I am doing. She is a concern to me. And I would like you to be with her every minute, whatever she needs, you will give it to her. Do you accept?"

His face lit up "Of course I do, sir."

Ardeth was about to enter the tent, and as he passed Ahmad, he put a hand on his shoulder.

"See? Life in the desert is not so boring."

The young man smiled and nodded.

***

Isn't Ahmad the sweetest little thing????????

Anyway, thank you for your feedback on the first chapter and I hope you enjoy this one.