Chapter 17 Part II
How does one learn to trust another?
When is it earned; is it given as a result of another's selfless thoughts and actions or in observing how they treat others?
Was it trust or desperation that prompted Olivia to accept Faris' help the night they fled from Jahm's encampment? What made her believe in a mere youth, a boy struggling to become a man despite his obvious physical limitations? What made her think that he could save them all from enslavement or worse, death?
And yet…Olivia trusted Faris, its conception in the moment she took his hand and allowed him to guide her away from her temporary imprisonment. Its growth continued as they journeyed through the night, a sense of confidence now accompanying it as Faris expertly guided them through what seemed to Olivia to be a barren and desolate land.
Olivia understood and accepted the need for a brief rest stop around mid-morning, the stifling heat of the desert depleting and almost crippling. Faris had driven them to a small section of land near a large grouping of rocks and boulders, remnants of what was once perhaps a small range of mountains gradually worn away by time and sand. The source of shade from the largest of the stones provided enough shelter from the brutal rays from the sun and ultimately, the small party came to a halt.
Given the chance to rest and replenish, Olivia gingerly climbed down from the wagon and tended to her own needs first. She stretched, stifling a groan as her stiff muscles protested and pressed her hand against the small of her back, to relieve the dull throbbing ache. Faris moved around to the back of the wagon and Olivia watched with a detached interest as he climbed in and crouched down by the warrior's side. She had just reached for the water pouch when she saw the bright flash of metal and she lunged forward, racing towards the back of the wagon.
Olivia felt the first shards of uneasiness sliver into the fledgling trust of Faris when she saw his hand poised over the weeping wound on Nabil's shoulder, the tip of the blade ready to plunge into the angry red and swollen flesh.
"What are you doing?" she cried and scrambled onto the bed of the wagon.
Faris leaned away from Nabil and watched as Olivia crawled over to his side. She saw his hand holding the dagger drop down but she ignored him for the moment and turned her attention back to Nabil. She gently brushed her fingers across his forehead and felt her heart constrict with disappointment and fear; his fever had risen. "Oh God," she almost moaned in denial. "Hold on, Nabil. Please…don't give up."
"The battle escalates," Faris quietly spoke up from Olivia's side. "The poison within his body struggles for dominance and continues to wear down his will to live. Our destination is still a few hours away. We must take this opportunity and try to aid the warrior's body in fighting the infection from his injury," Faris replied. "Examine the wound; it is red and inflamed, the contamination within making the skin swell. You must release the pressure by making a few shallow cuts letting it drain…"
Olivia watched as Faris deftly flipped the dagger and presented it to her handle first. "Yes I know what to do," Olivia replied and thought of the meager medical knowledge imparted to her from her father. "But to actually cut into the flesh, I...I don't know if I can... I've never used a knife before. Not like this."
"I will keep him immobile as much as possible although I doubt the warrior has the strength to struggle much," Faris continued and seemed impervious to Olivia's appalled expression. "Time grows short. Do you not wish for him to survive?"
"Do you want to live?" Nabil had demanded harshly that day on the pier.
Silently Olivia took the dagger and ignored her trembling hand.
"Please live for me," she had whispered over and over, cradling his body in her arms the night before.
She crawled over to Nabil's other side and gently peeled back the robe, her eyes widening in astonishment when the tattoos on the warrior's chest were fully exposed. "My word," Olivia whispered, her gaze greedily drinking in the sight of his muscled chest adorned with dark black Egyptian symbols. How tempted she was to trace the beginning of them with the tip of one finger, following the flowing design and pattern as it meandered across caramel colored skin. Once colored a healthy hue, now it was gradually losing its tone as the battle Faris had spoken of waged on; tiny red spikes of infection flowered out erratically from the bullet wound.
"He is marked with the signs of his tribe," Faris stated. He reached out and gently guided Olivia's hand to Nabil's shoulder, a silent and urgent reminder of what she must do.
"Do you know what they mean?" Olivia asked in a deceptively mild tone, as if inquiring about the weather or other mundane topics. She took a deep breath and slowly inserted the dagger into Nabil's skin, grimacing at the slight resistance she felt.
Faris leaned his weight down on Nabil's body as the warrior started to weakly move. "The mark near the collarbone is the symbol of authority called 'Sekhem.' This man holds a high station amongst his people."
Lips grimly set with determination, Olivia ignored the gasp of pain that slid past Nabil's lips and continued to probe the wound. "Please continue," she whispered, body bent over the warrior's shoulder.
"There is 'Ieb' which means the heart and the tattoo directly underneath it is called 'Ka' or his spirit or soul. The scarab actually stands for creation but among his people it is also known for good luck," Faris grunted as Nabil strained against him.
"Just a few more incisions," Olivia murmured reassuringly, not certain if she uttered that for Nabil's comfort or for her own. The last cut suddenly went deeper than she had intended and Nabil's eyes flew open, his gaze bright with fever and pain. He arched his body, as if desperately trying to seek a way to escape the agony flaring up from his shoulder wound. While Faris valiantly struggled to hold him down, Olivia dropped the bloodied dagger, mortified she had inflicted more damage. She grabbed one of Nabil's flailing hands as tears welled up in her eyes, and held on until his sudden burst of strength quickly evaporated. He sagged back down onto the wooden flooring, his eyes fluttering closed as a ragged sigh slipped past his lips.
"You did nothing wrong," Faris' quiet tone wasn't accusatory or patronizing; it simply stated what he believed to be fact. "While you may think otherwise, the wound now bleeds freely, allowing the infection a release. There are some rags we can use to rebandage his shoulder."
Olivia could only manage a brief nod, too numb to think beyond the moment, too scared to think of the ramifications caused by her lack of skill. She looked up in surprise when she felt a hand rest lightly on her shoulder.
"In a way I envy your warrior. There have been countless times when I had cried long into the endless nights, wishing there was someone to care and watch over me. My leg would be whole and healthy, not deformed as it is now if I had someone like you as a protector," Faris stated gravely then turned away.
Olivia swallowed a small sob of sorrow and gently cradled Nabil's head in her lap, slowly bending down until their foreheads touched. Silently the tears trickled down her cheeks and she whispered, "I am so sorry…so sorry. At this moment, the last thing I feel is like a protector and more like a bumbling idiot. Nabil, I am so very sorry I caused you more pain."
She tenderly caressed his cheek, refusing to look over and acknowledge the ever widening patch of blood on his shoulder, a direct result from her clumsiness.
A slight movement caused her to look down and she watched in amazement as Nabil's good hand slowly crept up and gently captured her hand. He gave it a brief but weak squeeze before it fell from her grasp and rested on his chest. Olivia's hand followed it down and covered it with her own, the significance of it not lost; they both rested over his heart.
Faris returned with the rags and eventually, Nabil was settled once more in Olivia's arms. As he slapped the reins and the wagon lurched forward, Olivia felt like a new understanding had emerged between them; she felt sure of it. It was one of quiet acceptance and understanding, of courage and compassion and most importantly of all - of trust.
~*~
Author's note: Normally I don't do this but for some reason, I've been submitting this chapter in parts, I hope y'all don't mind. I guess it's my way of keeping the story fresh in your minds as I frantically work on the next few scenes. My weekends are usually spent writing and lately, they've been spent working instead, which stinks. LOL So please bear with me as this chapter continues along and of course, thanks for reading and your patience.
By the way, I listed a link below that has the definitions and what the Egyptian symbols look like on Nabil's chest; of course I wish I had a picture of Nabil's chest but hey… LOL
http://members.aol.com/egyptart/symlst.html#am
Karri and Aenigmatic aka vesania: Ask for update and ye shall receive. ;-) Vesnia, my MSN hates your ISP and my email bounced back again. I'll try one more time…
Dawn: Thanks for the review and that reminds me, I gotta read and review your stories here on FF. ;-)
Freakizimi: I've wanted to thank you for reading but you don't sign in and I don't know your email address. I'm glad I could make your day although this part of chapter 17 may not make you very happy. By the way, did you see the link of Land of Dreams Ladybug posted a few reviews ago? Hope that helped…
Marcher: Thank you kindly for the review and if anyone hasn't had a chance, go read her "Captain of His Soul" and her alt view (is that the right title? *sheepish grin* it's late here) stories, both excellent reading. And in answer to your question, oh yes it was…oh yes indeedy it was. Muwhahahahaha
Trudy Perry: Welcome and thanks for the review, now promise you won't hate me for this latest installment
Marxbros: No need to apologize, I'm glad you enjoyed reading what I have so far…and since you've asked, here's more. As for battle ideas, let me simmer some more thoughts around my head and I'll get back to you. LOL
Ruse, Patty and Deana: I'm not used to doing this at the end of the story but always, thank you for reading. Ruse, I believe I answered your horse question on a review of "Speak Softly" (go read it my friends, it rocks). Patty, as for the fate of Nabil…life will go on for him, it's up to him how he chooses to live it. And Deana, my own personal muse…love ya toots.
Special hugs and kisses to go my beta, JennLee who swears this part didn't need much tweaking. You are too kind.