Chapter 17
"Three lyres. One sun in the east. The image of grace in my two eyes. One glad body. A day. The wind which moves the boats, moves them. The strident sun is walking through a field of stars. The beautiful one is singing in two halves of the sky. A child speaks. An old man nods and dreams. The people have come from their houses to sit in doorways to sniff the air.
O sun. O Ra. Osiris risen. O child climbing along mother's back, laughing. Two men in a bark boat, rowing, stop to hear your mother singing. Maat at the double season. Strident sun in heaven."
Excerpt from The Egyptian Book of the Dead called "Ra Rising"
~*~
Morning.
It was the start of a new day, the eternal ebb and flow in the passing of time marked with the ceaseless cycle of sunrise and sunset. It may have been written by scholars or other wise men that the beginning of a new day held optimism and hope. It offered the chance for redemption, renewal and rebirth. And the opportunity to rectify errors from the previous day.
For Rick, it held no such promise or power but he hoped it could wash away the images that were still fresh in his mind from his dream the night before.
The nightmare had caught him unaware.
~*~
Evy…Evelyn…woman, wife, friend…confidante…the love of his soul. His equal. Rick felt her fear, a thick tangible feeling that invaded his subconscious and prodded his body to rise and defend. His hands automatically reached for his guns that were ever present in the holsters by his sides but they came up empty. His heart dropped in his chest…
She was in trouble.
He saw that she held on to little Alex and cradled the baby's body against her own. One of her hands cupped the back of his head as the distressed wails of his son pierced his heart with a sword-like sharpness. Wordlessly she shook her head, eyes darting around for an advantage or escape. The look of terror on her face brought Rick to his knees, crippling him as she seemed to be backing away from someone….or something.
~*~
He stood outside the doorway of Quadamah's home, all too aware that his refusal of breaking the fast with the family probably breached some sort of social etiquette. But he didn't care. Sitting down to eat with the proud parents and their children would have made the dream all too real for him at the moment. Almost ominous. He had chosen to decline their offer and had stumbled outside. The ache of missing his family almost hurt as much as the dull pain that persistently throbbed in his wounded shoulder.
~*~
Where the hell was Jonathan and why wasn't he there to protect his sister and nephew? The guilt Rick felt for leaving more potent because he was not… Evy's back was pressed against one wall, her body twisted so that she would take the full impact of the strike and not her child. Anything to save her child…
Rick saw a shadowed form hover over his wife, its arm raised in the air and its weapon poised over her head, ready for the kill. He broke through the immobility that had frozen his body and lunged forward, reaching out with his hands. He tried to deflect the blow and shield his precious family. His body sailed through the air but never landed, his hands always reaching but never grasping.
Oh God he had failed and the death screams of Evy and Alex echoed in his mind over and over and…
~*~
Gulping in large draughts of the cool morning air, Rick shoved a hand through his rumpled hair and swung his gaze around the tranquil and sleepy village. Nature had drawn out her palette of colors and painted the morning sky with colors of blue, lavender, light oranges and pinks. The sun slowly climbed up into the changing heavens, its golden color intensifying as night finally gave way to day, dark yielding to light. A mist that had rolled in sometime during the early morning hours gradually dissipated as the heat from the sun grew stronger. In some areas it obstinately clung to the low ground with long, finger-like tendrils but those were suddenly disrupted by errant drafts of air. Something was coming.
Muffled sounds of movement made Rick step away from the building and he curiously peered down one street, squinting his eyes at the dark objects that moved gradually towards him.
On silent feet, the apparitions took on shape and substance, merging into the solid forms of warriors as they passed by Quadamah's home. They were gathering in the main square to prepare and ride out for the battle against Jahm and his army. They were ready for war. Every so often a warrior would give a nod of respect to Rick who wordlessly watched the procession, the act in itself not lost on the ex-legionnaire as the seemingly endless black stream of men paraded by him.
He was tempted to join them, needing to latch onto the now familiar desire for retribution that lingered over Ardeth's death. Anything to make him forget the image of Evy's frightened face in his mind's eye and help him purge his anger. He took a step forward but was stopped by a steaming glass of dark liquid held under his nose. He looked up to find Quadamah offering it to him, a knowing smile on his face.
"Morning," he mumbled and shoved a hand through his rumpled hair again. "What's this?"
"SabaaH in-nuur. This is qahwi or coffee," Quadamah replied. "It was Yasmine's idea to try and duplicate this beverage for you. Although the consumption of coffee has been existence since the 13th century, my people actually prefer tea. To please you she experimented with coffee berries last night although I cannot vouch on the strength."
Rick eyed the cup suspiciously, thinking it looked more like thick dark motor oil and tentatively, he stuck his pinky in to test. "Coffee, eh?" he murmured and looked up to find Quadamah staring at him expectantly. Not wanting to disappoint the warrior's wife with another refusal, Rick held his breath and took a healthy swallow.
"Is it good? Aiwa" Quadamah asked.
It took a few moments before Rick recovered enough to answer, his mouth not yet fully functional as it reacted to the taste of the potent brew. He smiled weakly at the warrior and ignored the urge to spit out the coffee, instead offering a wobbly thumb's up sign.
"Yeah, the best," he eventually replied.
Quadamah grunted in approval and gestured for Rick to follow him down the road. "Taiyib. Rahimah has requested to change the bandages on your shoulder before we depart and I must meet the arriving commanders from the neighboring tribes near the Elder's building. There have been some changes and an oversight I must correct," the warrior said.
"No problem," Rick replied and soon found himself on the doorstep of a modest home. He waited while Quadamah called out a greeting and then a moment later, Rahimah came out and gestured for him to come inside.
Watching as the commander walked away and making certain the healer didn't catch his covert action, Rick nonchalantly poured out the rest of the coffee by the side of the door before he walked inside.
~*~
"You will need to take this," Asiya murmured and secured another small pouch onto the saddle bags of Ardeth's horse. Ardeth watched with interest as her fingers deftly tied the leather bindings around the slightly bulky object and he couldn't help but wonder exactly what it contained.
"And the contents of this pouch?" he asked and lifted one corner of its flap to peek inside. The warm, pungent and earthy aroma of herbs assailed his senses and Ardeth was unable to hide the grimace on his face from the strong smell.
"These are small bundles of special herbs I have gathered that should help prolong your ability to stay in the saddle. They need to be ingested with water and should help ease the pain and stiffness since your leg is still not fully healed. For the moment it is all I can offer since we both know that rest is not an alternative," Asiya sighed. She continued to re-tie the threads, her concentration, it would seem, solely focused on the task at hand and not his impending departure.
"Ya huriyyahi," Ardeth murmured and gently cupped her chin. He lifted up her face till their gazes met and held, the undercurrent of emotions flowing between them strong and deep. "Granted you may have thought the level of intelligence varies from man to man but I thought last night we established the fact that I am not stupid."
Asiya's eyes widened at the teasing tone of Ardeth's voice. "We did," she whispered.
"Then do you have doubts about my desire to return to you? Or do you think I would dishonor my promise and break it?" Ardeth asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Asiya sighed and a delicate blush bloomed on her cheeks. "Am I that obvious?"
Ardeth held back his laughter knowing Asiya's concern for his welfare was quite real. The possibility of him being killed was an unspoken fear neither one of them wanted to express last night, or this morning when Ardeth woke up to find himself in Asiya's arms.
In her arms…he woke up and smelled the faint but distinct fragrance of flowers…awareness shifted away from the hazy comfort of his dreams to the very real sensation of being held against something warm and solid.
In her arms…he had found an immeasurable amount of peace and comfort, thoughts and feelings he had long denied himself until now as hope resurfaced along with desire.
In her arms…he willingly surrendered and lost himself, drowning in the alluring depths of her eyes as they stared wonderingly at one another.
In her arms Ardeth had finally come home until reality rudely interceded…
They avoided the topic, knowing all too well how easily this fledging and fragile love that was growing between them could be destroyed.
"La," Ardeth smiled and tenderly caressed Asiya's cheek. "It has been far too long since I have had someone concerned for my safety. It is a feeling that I have not realized I had missed until now." He took her hands and raised them to his lips, gently pressing a sweet kiss on the knuckles.
Asiya's eyes widened and she unsuccessfully tried to hide her smile. "Warrior, there are people watching us," she scolded lightly.
"Aiwa, Healer, there are," Ardeth replied, his eyes fastened on Asiya's mouth.
"We will pray to Allah that you and Sued have a safe journey," Na'ima suddenly spoke up from Asiya's side and gave them a warm smile. "It would seem all is balanced again."
Ardeth reluctantly stepped away from Asiya and grasped the Na'ima's hands. As he bowed over them, he offered his heartfelt thanks and gratitude for her care. Is'af was next and Ardeth had to hide his laughter at the look of distrust on her face. He reached for her hands to extend the same courtesy but she surprised him by refusing to offer them.
"Is'af?" Asiya prompted and Na'ima muttered "Oh for the love of Allah…"
Ardeth had a suspicion and he leaned forward, hands still extended. "My knife rests securely in my boot and I remembered to wear pants. Do you still not wish to say goodbye?" he whispered for her ears only.
Is'af's face broke into a reluctant smile but solemnly the little healer offered her farewell. "May Allah watch over you and protect you, warrior" she said.
"Shukran hilwa ukht," Ardeth replied just as solemnly.
As the small procession of people crossed over to where the horses were tethered, Asiya and Na'ima supported most of Ardeth's weight as he struggled to walk. No one commented on how painfully he limped. A hush had fallen over the little group when they were suddenly confronted with watching the monumental task of Ardeth mounting.
Gently disengaging himself from the two healers, Ardeth was never more keenly aware of his physical limitations than at this moment. Stubborn male pride dictated he try and climb up into the saddle without help, but how could he accomplish this once ordinary task? His leg was already shaking from the meager walk he had taken from the building to the corral.
Ardeth reached up and grabbed the pommel and at the same moment, took several deep breaths, bracing himself for the pain that would surely follow.
~*~
"I cannot watch this, do something," Na'ima whispered to Asiya and turned her head.
"What would you like me to do?" Asiya whispered back. "To offer him assistance would be an insult. During his recovery he needs to discover the boundaries of his strength on his own."
"Then tell me when it is over," Na'ima replied and looked away.
Asiya sighed and felt her heart constrict with empathy. Abdul-Nassir had taught his students not only the vast knowledge needed for practicing medicine but also how to handle different types of patients, the warriors being the hardest to handle. He had explained to his attentive students that not only did all warriors barely acknowledged pain; most did not accept weakness and refused to submit to sickness. A tactful and wise healer should patiently wait until a warrior acknowledged their need for aid but not approach the subject unless the warrior asked for advice or assistance first.
Asiya's mind frantically tried to think of a compromise as she watched Ardeth tentatively placed his foot in the stirrup, his jaw clenched against the pain.
"Warrior?" Suddenly Is'af broke the building tension and everyone stared at her as she shyly approached Ardeth's side. Quickly Ardeth let his leg drop and turned to greet the healer.
"What in the name of Allah is she doing?" Na'ima murmured.
"I have no idea," replied Asiya and took a step forward to intervene if needed.
~*~
"…name is Nijm Zarik and I have owned him since he was a year old," Is'af stared up at Ardeth with an expectant look on her face.
Baffled as to why Is'af felt it important to tell Ardeth the history of her ownership of the horse at this precise moment, he did however manage a small smile. "I shall take good care of him and when I am able, I will send him back to his mistress safe and unharmed."
Is'af nodded, accepting Ardeth's promise then stepped closer. "During the past several years I have found the need to teach him many tricks, since it is quite obvious that I am small in stature."
Ardeth gave a silent sigh for patience but urged the healer to continue with her story, "Go on."
Confident that it seemed she had Ardeth's undivided attention, Is'af started to list the commands Nijm Zarik knew and she started off with the most simplest of commands. "Sa was the hardest to teach him, rah the easiest but there is one command he has learned quite well," Is'af stated quietly. She stood near the horse's shoulder and gently touched him with her hand saying, "Raka."
To everyone's amazement, Nijm Zarik tossed his head and extended one leg, bending the other one as he slowly lowered the front portion of his body to the ground until his muzzle almost touched the sand. Is'af turned back to Ardeth with a small but triumphant smile. "It is amazing how easy it is to climb into the saddle now," she said.
"Indeed," Ardeth replied. He finally understood Is'af's intentions and gave a shaky sigh of relief a moment later when he was finally seated. The pain had not been as excruciating as he had feared when he had lifted his injured leg and settled into the saddle. He gathered the reins in one hand and held onto the pommel with the other, then nodded to Is'af for the command to rise.
"Fauq Nijm," Is'af ordered and slowly the horse pushed himself to his feet.
Ardeth closed his eyes as he felt the withers and chest muscles of the horse's body tighten and respond until it was standing then opened them a moment later when he heard a small collective sigh ripple through the air. His eyes caught worried Asiya's worried gaze and silently reassured her with a wan smile; there was some pain as his once dormant body was now called into use but overall it was manageable. He gave her a slight nod and was rewarded with the slow smile that blossomed across her face.
Suddenly a loud metallic scraping noise filled the air as one of the sentries pushed open the wooden gate to the compound. Startled, Nijm Zarik lunged forward and the unexpected movement threw Ardeth off balance. He immediately tried to compensate and used both legs to steady himself in the saddle and calm the horse down.
His entire being focused on controlling and finally mastering the horse, Ardeth wasn't surprised when he felt the burning sensation in his thigh increase until the inevitable happened - the carefully sewn stitches on his arrow wound ripped open. He clenched his teeth against the pain and hid the discovery, bringing Nijm Zarik back to where Sued waited with the others.
Asiya rushed over to his side and touched his good leg, the unspoken concern mingled with alarm reflected in her face. "Warrior?" she whispered.
Ardeth leaned down and with indescribable tenderness trailed his fingers down her cheek in a poignant silent gesture of farewell. He saw the tears well up in Asiya's eyes as she captured his hand and placed a sweet kiss on the palm, their fingers then becoming briefly intertwined.
"Return to me," Asiya murmured.
Reluctantly Ardeth broke the contact and urged Nijm Zarik forward, turning slightly in the saddle to watch as Asiya, Na'ima and Is'af followed after them towards the gates. Mingled calls of well wishes and prayers of "May Allah watch over and guide you" filled the air but Ardeth needed only to whisper one word of farewell to Asiya and he was certain that she had heard it despite the noise.
"Dayman," he whispered and nudged his horse into a gallop with Sued following closely behind.
~*~
Allan knew he was behaving like a petulant child but he didn't care.
The journey to Sedment el-Gebel was horrendous, hot and dirty. No amount of wiping his face down with a damp handkerchief would ever rid him of the gritty taste of sand that seemed determined to fill every orifice, crack and opening on his body. He knew he was rapidly depleting his ration of water and his actions were earning him looks of reproach from the other soldiers but at the moment, all that mattered to Allan was the most important thing - his comfort.
"Excuse me sir," a young blond, blue-eyed solider rode up to the side of Allan's horse. "I noticed your trouble with the sand and all. Thought you might want to try and fashion a turban of some sort with a face covering. Like the one I'm wearing. I had a real live Bedouin teach me once and I've been using it ever since, I have."
"How lucky for you," Allan snorted indifferently and guided his horse away from the eager and helpful soldier. He threaded his way through the column until he came abreast of Captain Mallory's horse, a fresh complaint ready to spring forth from his dry and chapped lips.
"Mr. Merriweather," Thomas greeted him with a certain amount of ill concealed annoyance Allan noticed but he shrugged it off. "What is it now?"
"I would like to know when we can stop and rest," Allan almost whined. "We've been riding for most of the morning, it's too damn hot and I'm getting hungry."
Instead of answering, Thomas reached into his saddlebag and withdrew a small foil wrapped object, then tossed it at Allan. "Consider this lunch and be glad you're getting it," he said.
Allan snorted with disbelief. "I don't suppose you would happen to have a flask of brandy hidden in the deep pockets of your wondrous knapsack, would you old boy? I need something to wash down this God-awful hard tack."
"Then use up the last swallow of your water, why don't you?" Thomas suggested dryly. "God knows you have been wasting it all morning long with your incessant need to…"
Before Allan could reply, suddenly the Lieutenant called out. "Sir! A rider to the south." Thomas turned in his saddle and reached for his binoculars, then silently watched as the lone rider proceeded to disappear over the horizon.
"What do you make of that, sir?" the Lieutenant asked. "Strange that he would be riding alone in the desert, don't you think?"
"Indeed but I see no reason for concern," Thomas concluded. "It would seem his destination is perhaps farther west than ours. Tell the men we shall proceed as usual and should make Sedment within the next few hours."
"Very good, sir," the Lieutenant nodded and galloped down the column.
"Thank God," Allan breathed and ignored the icy stare of reprimand he received from Thomas.
~*~
It has been written that an Arabian horse had forty whorls in the hair on its body, to twelve of which good or bad fortune was attached. The whorl between the ears, of the crown-piece of the bridle: swiftness in races.
Chestnut: the swiftest, best horses were chestnuts, they were the winners of races. This was the color of horse the Prophet loved and when a chestnut horse flew under the sun, he was the wind incarnate.
This anecdote was told about a famous stallion: one day his rider was upon him, wandering thirsty across the desert when they saw a flight of desert partridge winging toward a spring. They followed, and the stallion reached the stream at the same moment as the flying birds - an extraordinary feat, for the flight of the partridge is swift; and even swifter is the flight of a thirsty partridge hurrying to water.
"Horses of the Sahara" by General E Daumas (first published in 1850)
Maroud bent low over the horse's neck and molded his body to its form, providing very little resistance to the wind as he raced across the sands. The messenger carried important news to his leader Jahm and praise Allah he had been fortunate enough to have been sold the fine Arabian stallion he rode. He had been able to avoid detection and once past the outskirts of Cairo, he gave free rein to Shirib min il Hawa, knowing the horse would live up to his namesake and heritage.
The tribes of the Medjai were amassing along the borders of the Nile and he feverently hoped to reach Jahm's encampment in time to warn them of the pending attack.
He must warn Jahm that the Medjai were riding for war!
~*~
"Try not to get your bandage wet or that will wash away the salve," Rahimah instructed.
"Yes ma'am," Rick joked as he watched her quickly and efficiently tied the ends of the new bandage together.
"If you feel the slightest pain or discomfort, I want you to try and rest," Rahimah continued her instructions, failing to see the tolerant and somewhat humorous grin on Rick's face.
"Yes ma'am," Rick answered nevertheless although he silently doubted he would be resting much on the march to the enemy's camp.
The healer gathered up her supplies and Rick thought she was about to add on to her growing list of do's and don'ts as she carried them over to a nearby table.
"I must also ask something of you," Rahimah asked quietly but seemed unable to face Rick at the moment.
He thought the behavior odd considering how comfortable he thought they both were with each other and was confused over the change in her behavior. "You need to ask me something?" he asked as he buttoned up his shirt.
"Aiwa," Rahimah replied and turned around, looking down at her hands clasped tightly together. "I must confess there is a duel reason why I asked Quadamah to bring you here one last time before you leave."
Rick raised an eyebrow in surprise over what seemed a confession. "And that would be?"
Rahimah hesitated. "It is not proper for a maiden to approach a man with the intention of asking for a favor," she started to explain. "Men do not approach a maiden unless for the purpose of marriage and once the parents approve and dowry accepted, then the courtship would commence."
"Ok, I'm with you," Rick said. He briefly wondered what marriage within the Medjai society had to do with him but he was patient and waited for the healer to continue.
"I have nothing to offer you in exchange for this favor except a small bag of gold coins, of which I would gladly give," Rahimah rushed through her explanation and started to wring her hands. "But he is…I mean I have known him since childhood and I am concerned."
Partial realization dawned on Rick's face and he confirmed it a moment later. "I assume we're talking about Nabil?"
Rahimah nodded her head. "He has become quite….dear to me. I was hoping that once in the enemy's camp, you might look for Nabil to make sure he is safe. I will give you all that I have…"
Rick tried to interrupt with a wave of his hands. "There's no need."
"….I pray for his return and know that if you were to find him, you would…."
"Rahimah," Rick walked over to her and gently gripped her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake to stop her rambling and to gain her attention. When she blinked up at him in surprise, he continued. "I wish I could help you but I've been assigned to retrieving the chest. Somehow I doubt I'll be doing much of anything else since this is what got Ardeth killed and Nabil captured in the first place. Your commander has charged me with its care and I can't be…"
"Sabaah il-xeer," a male voice called out and effectively ended the conversation.
~*~
Translations
Sabaah il-xeer – Good morning
SabaaH in-nuur – response to Good Morning
Taiyib – good
Ya huriyyahi – my angel
Shukran hilwa ukht – thank you sweet sister
Nijm Zarik – Shooting Star
Sa – hold
Rah – go
Raka – kneel
Fauq – up
Dayman – always
Shirib min il Hawa – Drinker of the Wind
Author's note – I thought to at least post part I of chapter 17 in silent appreciation to all of you who continue to read this and leave encouraging reviews or comments. It would seem the fates have conspired against me not to finish this but as I've said before, I will always battle like a Medjai and ultimately win. LOL
I promised new character introductions and they are forthcoming…until then please enjoy this latest chapter and thanks again!
Oh and mucho hugs and kisses to Deana again, who as I've said before, inspires more than she realizes and for her astounding medical knowledge. She's almost scary with it…LOL!