Chapter 16
Ardeth leaned closer to Asiya, the robe held between them somehow falling forgotten to the floor. He loved touching her hair, the weight and feel of it like the finest silk against his hand as it slid through his fingers, strand after sleek strand. His fingers moved back to her face, skimming across the smooth skin until they came across her lips, tinted pink and partially opened as if Asiya found trouble breathing. The pad of his thumb caressed her lower lip before his hand gently settled on her chin. With the lightest of pressure, he titled her face up and bent down, unable to ignore the temptation any longer. Tenderly he placed a small kiss on her lips. His mouth brushed over hers once, then twice and he felt her arms come up to timidly curl around his neck, her supple body pressing close to his hard length. Ardeth's tongue tentatively sought permission to explore the sweetness of her mouth and Asiya parted her lips with a sigh and eagerly complied.
His tongue slowly slid into her opened mouth, eager to explore the moist sweet cavern and to learn her taste. His hands pulled her willing body closer and his heart reeled from the heated contact of their embrace, a barely contained groan of need escaped from his lips. Her breasts were crushed against his hard chest and Ardeth craved more, the intoxicating scent that was Asiya breaking down all of the barriers he had erected around his heart. Her innocent response to his masterful dominance of her mouth washed away the layers of loneliness and when he pulled her closer, her small whimper of desire pierced his soul.
He felt her fingers entangle themselves in his hair, pulling and tugging on the silky-smooth strands as if this alone would bring them impossibly closer. When her tongue tentatively stroked his, Ardeth felt pleasure spiral through his body and in its wake, he was left shaken to the core. He wanted the kiss to last an eternity as it washed over him, leaving him whole and clean. He felt invincible.
However the incessant throbbing of his thigh was a constant reminder of his mortality, and reluctantly he broke the kiss. Gently his lips fluttered over Asiya's mouth in smaller kisses, outlining the shape, committing the texture, shape and curve to memory until finally he pulled away. He couldn't help the arrogant smile on his face as he gazed down at the woman who sagged against him in his arms. She looked dazed, her eyes half closed from passion, her lips swollen from his kisses. She leaned against him and Ardeth willingly accepted the additional weight although it made his thigh ache in response.
He felt Asiya wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head against his chest; her hands clasped the edges of his robe. Ardeth's arms came up to form a protective shield around her body and he fancied she could hear the erratic beating of his heart. With a deep sigh, he rested his chin on top of her head and inhaled her womanly scent, marveling at how neatly their two bodies meshed together. To him it signified two separate halves that had finally become whole. He briefly closed his eyes and sent a heartfelt prayer of thanks to Allah for bestowing upon him such a gift. Love in any form was a blessing but love found after so much heartache and grief was more extraordinary and precious. Secretly he would admit he had believed he would never love again: the price was too high to pay for those who returned his affection. And yet…Asiya had made him reevaluate his conclusions and face his deepest fear. She had professed her love for him and he felt purified and rejuvenated by it.
They stood for a few precious moments, locked in an embrace that held more than just physical comfort. It held the assurance of a love that would continue to grow stronger and forge a bond between them that would be undeniable. The balance between healer and warrior was achieved once again, the scales in the balance that only Allah Himself could break.
Reality intruded upon the couple and with it, the pain in his thigh increased until finally Ardeth couldn't stop the groan of pain that slipped past his lips.
"Your leg," Asiya cried softly and immediately pulled away from Ardeth, taking his hand, the love shining from her eyes making him feel humbled from its intensity. Silently she led him over to the pallet. He weakly protested but within a matter of a few minutes, Asiya had expertly maneuvered him not only into lying down and resting but had also checked his bandages.
The silence in the room was a blanket of comfort that surrounded the couple and Ardeth felt lulled by it and by the tenderness in Asiya's care. Exhaustion took its toll on the warrior and he fought a different kind of battle to keep his eyes open so he could watch the healer tend to him, her movements fascinating and graceful.
"You must rest," Asiya gently chided as she watched Ardeth's struggle to remain awake. Her hand brushed against his forehead. "You are slightly warm."
"I wish to tell you again of my promise," Ardeth replied, willing his eyes to stay open. "There is much we need to discuss."
"Then I shall gladly listen," she smiled at him and sat down on the edge of the pallet, pulling the covers up around his waist. She leaned against his shoulder and gently stroked back the hair from his face.
"With all that I am…." Ardeth whispered and felt his body start to relax. He turned his face so that it rested against Asiya's warm body, his eyes fluttering closed. "As long as there is life in my body, I will return….to you."
He held her close, felt her arms wrap around him in a cocoon of comfort and finally he allowed sleep to claim his body and mind. The last sound Ardeth heard before he tumbled into the realm of dreams was the voice of the healer whispering of her love for him.
There were no nightmares waiting for him that night.
~*~
Olivia held tightly onto Faris' hand as they finally cleared the last of the tents in camp and she looked around in apprehension. She kept expecting the alarm to be sounded once they discovered her missing from the tent but the night remained blissfully quiet. The illumination from the moon above provided more than ample light to survey the surrounding landscape and she saw a small wagon tucked off to one side near a large grouping of rocks. As they ran closer to it, a shiver of fear raced down her spine when she saw that something was lying in the back, covered by a tarp.
Faris pulled her around to the back and gestured for her to climb in but she couldn't move.
"What is wrong?" he asked impatiently, alert for any noise or alarm coming from the camp.
"Wha-what is under the tarp?" Olivia asked and involuntarily took a step backwards. She already knew the answer and felt the tears gather in her eyes.
The Medjai had died.
"It was a necessary precaution," Faris replied and took hold of Olivia's hands. He pulled her forward with a surprising amount of strength and determination, and then pushed her up onto the wagon.
Ignoring her feeble protests, Olivia watched in horror as Faris threw back one corner of the tarp to reveal the face of Nabil, his facial tattoos standing out in stark relief against his pale skin. Grief stricken, she pushed herself away from the body but her progress was halted by Faris' firm grip on her wrist.
"He is not dead," the boy quickly assured. "I had feared the wait for nightfall might have killed him instead of his wound but the warrior has a fierce will to live. He is alive by the grace of Allah, you must believe me."
Slowly Olivia crept forward and reached out with one shaking hand, checking for a pulse on the warrior's neck. Her fingertips pressed against his skin as she silently prayed she would find an affirmative sign of life and a moment later, her prayers were feebly answered.
"Oh thank God," Olivia murmured and sagged with relief. As Faris ran around the front of the wagon and climbed into the driver's seat, she scooted closer to Nabil and cradled his head in her lap. Over and over again, she stroked back the hair from his face, her voice unable to express the multitude of feelings that had submersed her heart. All she was capable of doing at that moment was to drink in the sight of his handsome face, committing it to be etched forever in her memory, eternally in her heart.
"Talk to him," Faris advised over his shoulder as he grabbed the reins. "The warrior has gone to a place deep within himself to escape the pain his body is suffering. I have heard stories of how they prepare themselves for death, allowing the body to be cared for by the living as they face their demise. By talking to him, you remind him of the connection to this plane of existence and it will renew his desire to live."
"What do I say to him?" Olivia asked, desperate to do anything to keep Nabil alive.
"Tell him what is in your heart," Faris astutely replied. Without further comment, he slapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward.
Olivia raised an eyebrow in surprise over his suggestion but instinctually felt he spoke with a wisdom that showed a maturity far beyond his tender years. She looked out over the endless horizon of rolling sand dunes and couldn't help but to ask her next question. "Where are we going?"
"To Sedment el-Gebel," Faris replied. "We should arrive there by tomorrow afternoon, Inshaa' Allah."
Olivia had no idea about the settlement Faris had just named but she trusted him that it was one step of many that would bring her back to civilization. Turning her attention back to the warrior and satisfied they were at last away from the madman Jahm and his followers, she shifted down in the wagon bed. She leaned down, close to Nabil's ear and murmured, "Did you hear that my warrior? Soon we'll have a doctor look at your shoulder and just maybe…you can tell him where it hurts."
As the wagon and its human cargo sped through the night, Olivia was oblivious to the passing of time or the change in the desert landscape. The shadowed colors of the night, the brilliance of the stars and moon that hung overhead were all but lost to her; her world had shrunken down to one thing. She did as Faris had suggested and kept talking to Nabil, whispering to him, encouraging him to live. She wanted him to wake up and promise he would tell her of his heritage; what did the dark tribal tattoos on his face and hands mean and were there more on his body. She longed to hear about his life and his beliefs just as much as she wanted to gaze down into his beautiful gray eyes, the color of them reminding her of an English winter's morn.
Olivia focused her concentration, all of her being solely on the man whose life she knew hung in the balance, ready to tip one way or the other. She asked for a response, and then demanded one as slowly she began telling Nabil of her secrets. Her fingertips continued to stroke the hair away from his face, her lips close to his ear and when she found she couldn't find the words to say anything more, she finally conceded to revealing the true extent of her feelings.
"Please live for me," she whispered over and over. She gathered his limp body into her arms and cradled him against her body, his head resting against the gentle swell of her breasts. "Please don't die, I can't lose you now. Not when we've just found each other. I want to do so much with you, learn about you and…tell you what's in my heart. Please."
Olivia pressed her lips to Nabil's warm forehead, the clinical side of her mind registering that it didn't feel any warmer than previously from his fever. She gave a silent prayer of thanksgiving then went back to talking to the warrior, encouraging him to open his eyes. Eventually her pleading for Nabil to live was reduced to the most basic of desires; she continued touching him and caressing his face. Finally she whispered of her need and love for him.
Nabil still remained unconscious.
~*~
It hurt to move, even more to think.
It was better for him to remain in the darkness, away from the pain that radiated from his shoulder and flowed through his body like molten fire. The infection that raged from the bullet wound had eaten away most of his strength and for a man who had once considered himself a strong fighter; he was more than ready to surrender.
He had been prepared to die, had made peace with his earthly counterparts and had begun taking the first few steps towards the afterlife. He walked through a long dark, narrow tunnel, eyes focused on the light beyond when he first heard the voice.
Its familiarity intrigued him, its pull just strong enough for him to stop his progress and turn back, contemplating a return to the earthly realm.
Who was calling to him? Even more puzzling, who confessed their need of him? There was no mate to mourn the loss of him, no wife or family to grieve his passing.
Torn between the lure of eternal peace and solving the mystery of the voice who spoke to him now, commanding his attention, Nabil hesitated. He glanced back at the warm beckoning light, instinctively knowing his mother waited there for him.
Mirah.
One hidden corner of his heart yearned for her embrace, a boyish craving.
Nabil turned back towards the voice, towards reality and the pain that waited there for him, circling his body like a vulture that waited to strike down on him from the heavens. To return would mean to subject himself to its razor sharp bite and resume the war that had been waging for control over his body.
Love.
The voice spoke of love and Nabil blinked in surprise. Vague memories of an oval face surrounded by golden hair, eyes alluring as the desert sky above infiltrated Nabil's mind and he suddenly knew the identity of it.
Olivia.
Another hidden part of his heart yearned for her touch, to know her taste and scent. A man's desire.
Nabil turned away from the light and responded to the quiet plea in her voice. She wanted to learn of him and trusted him with her secrets. Memories of the day at the pier surfaced, followed by her foolish act that following night as she had gently tended to his wound. Somehow the role of the protector had been reversed and the next day she had made a promise not to fail in keeping him safe.
He took a step forwards then another, one foot placed in front of the other as he caved into the yearning of his soul; to allow another into his heart. He followed the sound of her voice as if it were a beacon of hope, a guide for the path in which he traveled back to his body.
"Please live for me." Nabil heard her whisper and he responded the only way he knew how at the moment. He continued walking away from the light, vaguely aware of a sigh of acceptance behind him.
It seemed Mirah was pleased with her son's decision.
~*~
Author's note – heck I forgot the translations for chapter 15. When Asiya speaks to Ardeth about her love, "Inta malak ya maHabbi, ya warrior," it means you have my love, my warrior.
I also want to thank you all for reading and reviewing Hero's 4. All of you have inspired me to continue writing, thinking and of course posting the continuing adventures of Ardeth and company that will go into Hero's 5. It's late right now and I could babble on for a more sentences but I won't do that to all of you….yet. LOL For now all I ask is that you consider my thanks most heartfelt and appreciated. Onwards to the next chapter where I get to introduce some new warriors for your inspection……be nice. LOL