AN: Hello everyone! Here I am, bringing you another chapter I enjoyed a lot while writing it. Since midterms period's gone (and I've passed all my exams with very good grades) I can devote all my time to writing; isn't that bliss?????

Anyway, as usual, thanks immensely for your reviews. One of my readers has brought up an interesting issue I'd like to expand a bit. At the very end of last chapter, Ardeth refers to Jean as his 'angel'. I don't think the belief in angels is and actual part of the Arab religion, but the way in which I show Ardeth is as a man of education, so it occurred to me that he could be familiar with the concept and use it under those circumstances.

Now, without further due, I leave you with the story.

CHAPTER TWENTY

He didn't know which one of the Highest Powers had been touched by his plea, but something made him turn around. About three hundred meters away he could make out a flaccid silhouette on the ground. He spurred Quicksand and went towards it. It was Jean.

He let himself fall to the ground next to her and crawled over to Jean's still form. Her eyes were closed and she didn't appear to be breathing. He held her to him and spoke to her limp form.

"I am so sorry I failed you."

She stirred and he looked down at her as she opened her eyes.

"You live!"

"Just barely," she whispered.

"Just breathe, habibi, keep breathing."

She smiled and, unexpectedly, just stayed quiet. Her eyes closed. She was weak, and waited for the darkness to close in on her.

Ardeth pressed his ear against her chest, relieved to hear her heart was still beating. "Will she be ok?" He asked softly, looking down at her.

"She needs to get some medical treatment quickly," Tarek said.

"The closest town is Cairo, but she would never make it…" Kasim added, indifferently.

"Our tribe," Ardeth said, "we can take care of her there. It is less than half a day away if we move quickly. It is the only thing we can do."

Tarek nodded. "Vosloo, send a message ahead, tell my grandfather and Ahmad to get the medical instruments ready."

Ardeth gently picked her up. "How many wounded warriors do we have?"

"When we left, there weren't many. The worst seems to be her." Tarek said, pointing to the limp woman in his arms.

Ardeth nodded and carried Jean to where Quicksand was waiting. He mounted and yelled out a command to his men, and they rode off. They rode quickly into the night, pushing the horses and much as they could, without killing the animals. On Kasim's urging, they finally took a break. It had to be sometime around mid-night. One of the Med-jai took Jean as Ardeth climbed down, his legs turning to jelly under his weight. He fell to his knees with a grunt, and Tarek came running to his side.

"Are you alright, brother?" He asked, dropping to one knee next to him.

"I am just a little weak." He said with a sigh, "I have not given myself the proper rest I need."

"Then you sleep, one of us can carry Jean while you do…" Suggested Tarek.

"No. I will take her, where is she?" He asked, looking around frantically.

"One of our men took her, I think he laid her on a blanket just over…there," pointed the younger brother.

"I must go to her…," he said, standing, his legs still weak.

Tarek sighed at his relentless attitude. He stood as well, placing an arm around his waist, in effort to keep him from falling. He led him to where Jean lay, unconscious, on a blanket. He dropped to his knees once more, and he went down with him, but then left his brother alone with Jean. He knew he needed some privacy.

Ardeth was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed that Ahmad had joined them. He had left the camp in desperation, for he needed to see Jean. Besides, he was the only one with medical knowledge, for his father had been the doctor of the tribe and had taught him many things before dying. He leaned to check over the woman. She had lost some more blood, and it was soaked through the bandages and her shirt.

After a few minutes of examining her, the boy looked at his Chieftain. "The sword went through the muscle, missing any arteries or bones. It was the long exposure to the sun which I hold responsible for her unconsciousness."

"Will she make it?" Ardeth's tone was almost of begging.

"She is not doing very well," sentenced the young man. "She has lost a great amount of blood and is dehydrated. She needs to get to the camp as soon as possible. I will take better care of her there." There was deep sorrow in his voice.

The leader thanked him and went to his brother who was looking at them from a distance.

"Jean will be fine, Ardeth. Don't lose your hopes." Tarek placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Tarek." He tried his best to smile, but it didn't turn out right.

"Are you ok?" He asked, looking at his brother in alarm.

"I am fine, just very tired. And I don't want to lose Jean... she is very weak. Ahmad is doing all he can for her, but I fear it won't be enough." He looked so old when he said that. Like he was talking about his dying wife of 40 years.

Tarek tried to make him focus on something else. "I understand your pain, brother, but this is not how a Med-jai leader conducts himself! Your duty is to the people and you know that."

"Are you questioning my ability to protect my people Tarek?" Asked Ardeth, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss.

Tarek lowered his voice. "No I am not but you are my brother, my friend and my everything. I can not let you destroy yourself over a woman."

"But she is no ordinary woman."

"I know. You won't lose her. We won't lose Jean and if you go in thinking we will, then I don't want you anywhere near her. I need the man who loves her right now, but I need you cold, hard and focused."

Ardeth just nodded. A while later, they mounted and rode until they reached the camp and they saw the Med-jai were waiting for them. They all looked sadly at their Chieftain holding the limp body of the woman that had come to save them from Imhotep. Ahmed had prepared Jean's tent with everything that could be necessary to take care of her wound. Ardeth laid her in bed and Ahmad followed them.

"It would be better if you left us alone, sir…" recommended him.

Ardeth shot him a murderous glance. "Tell me, Ahmad, why exactly would I do such thing?"

"There will be a lot of blood," stated the boy, not flinching under his gaze.

The Chieftain shrugged. "I have seen blood before."

"This is Jean's blood, master," was Ahmad's whisper.

Ardeth left the tent promptly. Ahmad smiled ever so briefly and with a heavy sigh began taking care of Jean's deep wound. He worked efficiently, but due to the gentle way in which he treated her, the job took him more than two hours.

During that period, Ardeth paced outside the tent in great impatience. All his men, even the ones of his family, didn't dare to come anywhere near him, for he had such a fierce look in his eyes that could have turned the bravest man in the universe into a coward.

"Why her, Allah?" Ardeth said to the sky and kept waiting, his agony growing with every second.

When the young man left the tent, he was surrounded by the entire tribe, all of them full of concern over Jean's health.

"I have done my best," he informed, "now Allah has to decide if he lets her come back to us. Ardeth, sir, you can come in if you want to."

Without a word, the Chieftain followed him inside and kneeled by Jean's side. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully, the only sign of her previous battle was how pale her face was, but still, her cheeks were red as a result of the fever that was threatening to burn her body. With her flushed face and her hair a wild tangle over the cushion she was using as a pillow, Ardeth thought she was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. After that sight, he realized he was never going to like any other hair color on a woman.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead with infinite tenderness.

"You love her, don't you, master?" Asked Ahmad.

Ardeth's eyes met his. "I've never been the kind of man to make trades. But I would give anything, even my life, yes Ahmad, my life for her. I would do it in the blink of an eye, without hesitation. For this woman. For my new friend. For the first woman that has ever deserved to be called Med-jai." He turned to her. "Breathe to make me breathe, Jean."

Quietly, Ahmad left the tent, knowing that his leader needed some time alone with Jean. Ardeth wordlessly thanked him for his thoughtfulness.

***

In another tent, Tarek quickly filled Ahmed in on the previous events and he listened in wonder as his grandson described the bravery of Jean Marquet.

"She has saved his life, my life and the life of all the Med-jai. If not for her engagement and the fact that my brother loves her, I would consider keeping her as my wife."

Ahmed stared at Tarek in surprise. He hadn't expected the possibility of Jean being so heroic or that Ardeth could possibly love her, but that certainly made sense, for why else would he have broken the tribe's laws to be with her and worried so much over her health and well-being? But he was even more astonished at Tarek's admission, considering he was courting the young and beautiful Sheelah.

"I want to see her when she awakes," he said.