Ok, this is the part where i start grovelling again. I"M SOOOO SORRY THAT I DIDN"T UPDATE LAST WEEK!! You would NOT believe how gruelling my week has been. So far, there hasn't been a night where i haven't gone to bed before midnight. On Tues, i was up till 3am studying for a chem test. So, i'm really sorry. Please forgive *grovel grovel* And wow! So many reviews! This is amazing! Ok, i'm not going to reply to everyone, just people that have questions and suggestions....so that the fwd is kept shorter, but if you want me to reply tell me in a review! *grins maniacally*

Deana: You are too kind. Reviewing all da chappies. You make me smile! Crap, his arm. Once again, i'd forgotten bout that. *sigh*

Trin: Dull knife? "I'll cut your heart out with a spoon!" "Why a spoon cousin?" "Cuase a spoon hurts more YOU MORON!"

Mommints: I'm afraid the Healer is gonna appear several more times...Are you saying i got you hooked on the first paragraph? *blinks then bursts into tears* That is the best compliment i've had yet! Eh, trust me, i'm not particulary fond of Shahin, do what you will with him. But hes a damn sight nicer then one of my OC characters called Caleb. Compared to Caleb, Shahin is a walk in the park.

Freakizimi:You think so? *sighs in relief* At least, someone thinks so!

Nakhti: First of all, sorry. Big misunderstanding. Do the sabre dance huh? *thinks and then grins* It can and WILL be done. That's a really good idea actually.......Yeah, i'm afraid i have something for eyes. Its like the first thing i notice bout people. Crows don't scare me, i love them!

And now, another apology. I've completely screwed up the timeline in this story and since its already posted the story is now.........well.........screwed. So please, please, PLEASE, just try to go with the flow.......onwards and upwards....er...downwards...

****

"Jawhar? Jawhar! JAWHAR!!!"

Jawhar grumbled as he got up from where he had been basking in the sun. "What?!?!" he snapped irritably.

"Your father sends for you." Mikail stepped into the boy's line of vision.

"Oh." Jawhar muttered, still annoyed about having his nap interrupted, "Do you know what he wants?"

"Ah yes. The Med-Jai is awake. We are moving out of the camp in around an hour. He wants you to get the Med-Jai ready for the journey. We are crossing the sands just east of here."

"Do you think he'll make it?" Jawhar asked curiously.

"By his defiance this morning, he should make it there and back without any water before he dies. The Med-Jai are strong, it is bred into their children; and the son of the Med-Jai is no exception."

"Okay." Jawhar conceded. He got up and brushed the sand lightly off him. "Where is he?"

"Over by the west side."

"Fine. I'll go tend to him."

Mikail grinned. "Just remember, we want him alive at the end of the journey."

Jawhar grinned evilly. "I'll get him there alive but undamaged – that is something else altogether."

"Fair enough." Mikail inclined his head in agreement.

Mikail turned and disappeared into the heat haze that was already beginning to form.

"Trust me to get stuck looking after the Med-Jai." Jawhar snarled as he kicked up the sand as he walked over to where the Med-Jai lay.

He reached the boy and with detached curiousity looked the boy over. Mikail was right. The boy looked like he could cross the Sahara. Apart from the split lip, bloody chin and bruised face the boy looked in peak condition. White bandages hid his arrow wound from the world and the boy's muscles gleamed as if oiled.

Jawhar unwound the rope that he had picked up along the way and stepped forward, watching the Med-Jai like one who watches a wild dog while expecting it at any moment to foam at the mouth and attack.

"My name is Jawhar." He stated coldly, as he beginning to tie a loop in the end of the rope.

"Jawhar." The Med-Jai repeated after him, all the while looking up at him with uncomprehending eyes. "Nice to meet you Jawhar. Although the circumstances aren't all that great. My name is A—"

"Shutup!" Jawhar flung angrily at the boy, stopping Bay in the middle of his introduction. "Don't speak, filthy Med-Jai."

Ardeth felt his jaw sag open. Even though the men of this tribe had stalked him, chased him, assaulted him and kidnapped him he tried to be polite.

Okay, he mouthed. He watched as Jawhar's face slowly crinkled up into rage. Shit. Screw it up again Bay.

"I said, don't talk." Jawhar hissed. He had finished tying the loop in the rope and with astonishing speed flung it over the boy's head and pulled it tight. Ardeth gasped as the rope bit into the soft skin of his neck and he put his hands in front of himself to catch his fall. Jawhar darted forward and with deceptive speed, yanked Bay's hands out from under him and simultaneously flipped the boy over onto his back and slammed the boy's head into the sand, accidentally smashing it into a rock under the sand.

Ardeth cried out as the back of his head connected with a thud on the rock. His vision blurred and he saw stars. His body relaxed as the boy lay stunned. Jawhar was surprised at the viciousness in his movements but hesitated only for a second before quickly tying the boy's hands roughly and tightly behind his back. He then pulled the unfortunate boy upright and hauled him, reeling, to his feet.

Ardeth had to swallow back the bile rising in this throat and fought to control his heaving stomach. The world spun crazily around and he nearly fell over again, only Jawhar's painful grip on his arm kept him upright.

"Walk, Med-Jai filth." Jawhar hissed and was pleased to note the slickness at the back of the boy's head. He pushed the teenager before him, by pushing at the back of his head and a look at his palm confirmed his suspicions. It was coated lightly in a red colour. Apparently, the hit against the rock had broken the boy's skin and Bay was bleeding lightly.

The bastard deserves it, Jawhar thought savagely as he watched the boy stumble forward. It was going to take all day for him and the prisoner to reach the other side of the wadi, let alone walk the desert. Jawhar gritted his teeth in anger. He was NOT going to take all that time to get home. Not that there was much of a home to come home to anymore.

Jawhar stepped confidently in front of the boy and giving the lead a vicious tug, started to drag the boy behind him. The sooner they got moving, the better. At least at the end of the journey, he would be able to see what would happen to Bay. It had better be good.

Jawhar licked his lips in anticipation.

****

Ardeth couldn't help but groan as he stumbled and fell to his knees. It jarred his hips and made his shoulder wound ache. Amazingly, it hadn't opened up again but the stiches put in place by the Healer had done their job and kept the skin courageously together, despite all the obstacles pitted against it.

His head wouldn't stop throbbing, and even his bleeding lip ached incessantly. His hip felt like an elephant had sat on it, he imagined he could see the marrow in the bones oozing out between cracks of the bone itself. Well, he was almost right. A horse had sat on his hip; it seemed to have weighed about as much as an elephant. He was lucky that he hadn't broken his hip. He knew without having to look that his pelvis would be a mass of bruised flesh – already painful to the touch.

His throat was dry and his eyes couldn't focus properly. The skin on his neck around the rope had been rubbed raw and everytime that damn boy, what was his name? Jawhar. Everytime Jawhar tugged on it, it dug deeper into his flesh. It didn't help with his hands tied behind his back – it made it almost impossible to keep his balance in the thick sand.

What Ardeth couldn't understand was why did they want him? What could they possible want with him? Sure, he was the son of the chief but what would ANYONE want with the Med-Jai. They were a peaceful tribe. Well, peaceful to anything that didn't threaten The Creature. Although they were silent and quiet around other tribes, they respected them and didn't interfere.

To Ardeth's knowledge, there was nothing that this tribe could see wrong with his tribe. Why did they hate the Med-Jai so much? All around him, hatred and anger flowed deeply in people's veins and thickly around them, covering the troupe in a cloak of ill-resentment. Aimed at him.

Ardeth gulped nervously. He didn't want to know what these people were going to do to him, but he had to know. It wasn't usual to be shot off a horse and dragged across the desert for no apparent reason, except that you were part of the Med-Jai clan.

The leader, Ruwaid, could only just keep his emotions reined in, and his son, Jawhar, wasn't much better. Ardeth glanced up and looked more closely at his present handler.

Jawhar didn't look much older then him, in fact, they looked the same age. Jawhar had around the same build, although he was slightly shorter and stockier. He had muscles everywhere and Ardeth could see where the veins stood out on his neck. He was wearing a tan robe; it was thick and swished along his horses flanks as he beast walked steadily onwards. His hood was currently off and the sun shone off his light brown/blonde hair. Ardeth noted without curiosity that it was long and curled down to his shoulders, much like his own black locks.

In the split second that Ardeth watched his captor, Jawhar felt the teenager's eyes on him and whipped his head around to glare at the Med-Jai. Ardeth shivered as he found himself looking into a pair of pale, blue eyes full of hate.

He didn't understand why someone could hate him so much. What had he done?

"On your feet, Med-Jai." The Sami-Nhir snarled and tugged viciously on the rope, forcing Ardeth to make the split second decision of having his head yanked off or getting up onto his feet. He wisely chose the latter.

He had been walked for approximately ½ an hour when his thoughts wandered back again to the people holding him captive. Ruwaid he would try not to provoke – the man obviously had his feelings buried, not so deep. Jawhar he couldn't understand. Same age but so vastly different in attitude.

Despite all that Jawhar had done to him, Ardeth believed that he couldn't be all that bad. So he was a bit rough……….for some reason? But still, except for the hit on the head, which he had appeared surprised about, the boy hadn't really badly hurt him.

But Shahin.

That was different. The man was obviously and plainly insane. Well, towards him anyway. Ardeth had stared into his eyes and read nothing but intense hate and the plain desire to inflict pain upon him. Ardeth had stared into his soul and seen…….nothing. HE was a man that he shouldn't cross. The Med-Jai teenager could still feel the man's hands around his throat, blocking off his air and slowly crushing his larynx. And the fact that sickened the boy the most was, while he had been doing this, he had been enjoyingit.

Ardeth shivered in the flaming heat and trudged onwards.

****

Ruwaid dropped back to pace his horse alongside his sons' and watched with satisfaction as the prisoner that his son held, had trouble keeping his footing and keeping up with the horses.

"The Med-Jai giving you any trouble?" He queried.

Jawhar shook his head, his golden locks floating above his shoulders. "No. Not at all. I don't understand what all the fuss is about. He was so easy to capture, so easy to subdue. Why are people so afraid of them for?"

Mikail who had been travelling nearby overhead this conversation and intervened, "Young Jawhar. You have been lucky enough to never see them in battle. In battle they are a formidable opponent. They do not know or understand the meaning of surrender. They willingly fight to the death, for they are not afraid of their own death."

"Not to mention, they are ruthless and have no mercy." Ruwaid spat as he spoke and missed the trudging prisoner by mere centimetres. He glared at the boy for good measure and turned back to the conversation.

"Weell……yes. Lately." Mikail reluctantly consented to that point.

"What do you mean lately?" Jawhar questioned angrily. "You say what those bastards did to our village! You saw the utter destruction! How can you say that?"

"I don't know." Mikail frowned and rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed deep in thought. "I don't know what made them do that. They were normally very…..detached from the other tribes. Isolated. Kept to themselves. I mean, how many times have you had contact with the Med-Jai?"

"The one time that they decided for no reason to attack our village and slaughter everyone inside." Jawhar said stonily and Ruwaid's eyes hardened in memory.

"From the legends and stories told to us from long ago, it just doesn't seem the Med-Jai's way. They are one of the oldest tribes in the desert, and there has NEVER been a bad story about them…..ever. I don't understand why after thousands of years they would suddenly attack our village for no reason. I was always told that it's best to know your opponent…….but I just don't understand that attack. It makes no sense."

Ruwaid was lost in his own world, memories unwontedly replaying themselves in his mind. He saw himself stepping through the village, the charred timber and thatch underneath his foot.

Everytime he took a step, the ground beneath his boots crackled and steam rose up around him. He remembered seeing Ukal's body lying under a beam. He saw himself running over and futilely trying to lift the plank of wood off the old man. Silver tears ran down his cheeks and mixed with the ashes surrounding the body. Ukal was dead. There was a bullet wound in his chest. The old man's cloudy blue eyes were open, seeing nothing as usual. Ukal had gone blind in old age but this blindness was caused by death.

Why had they killed Ukal? He was a blind, old man. What harm could he have done. All he ever did was sit in front of his thatched hut and smoke his pipe, listening to the gossip and giving his wisdom when he was needed.

In that case, why had they killed all the people in the village? It had been a quiet early morning. The women were washing and cooking, the girls were helping their mothers. The young boys were chasing each other through the golden sand and play-fighting with sticks. The men were away on a hunting trip. Food had been scarce and a scout had reported that there was a pack of jackals heading westbound and that the wadi up north had filled with water and the birds had migrated back to nest. If the hunt went badly then the scout had also reported that there was a herd of wild camels just to the east of the jackals. They appeared to be following one another.

The hunt itself had been good. Spirits had been high and the party had returned with food aplenty to give to their wives. A feast had been scheduled for that night.

Ruwaid remembered his stomach churning and feeling sick when he first noticed the smoke on the horizon. It was thick, black and oily and smoke like that could only mean one thing. Attack. He had ordered Jawhar to wait just out of sight of the village and he and some stronger warriors had ventured into the village.

Or what was left of the village.

There had been one survivor. One. Out of all the people in the village they had left behind, the Med-Jai had let one live.

Her name was Zen.

She confirmed that it had been Med-Jai that had attacked the village and killed all her fellow villagers. The Med-Jai's tattoos had been the last thing that she had seen before they had taken her sight.

She was 19. Before the attack, she had been a highly-spirited, bright young girl. Boys had lined up for her and drooled over her. She had been one of the highlights of the village. She had been best friends with Emira.

Emira. Ruwaid's daughter and Jawhar's sister.

Ruwaid's fist clenched and he gritted his teeth until it felt like he was going to bite through his lower jaw. He forced his thoughts away from her and tried to focus on the conversation going on around him.

"Mikail!" His voice stung like a whiplash and Mikail stopped his thinking immediately.

"Yes Ruwaid?"

"They are murdering pigs of fatherless bastards. You do not need to understand them. Understand this. They attacked our village for no reason except to take our food. Food which we would've gladly given them, if they'd asked! They slaughter everyone including the women, girls, boys, even the babies! They even murder the harmless old men. They blind a 19 year old girl and let her live, just so that there is someone to relay the story to us. Understand that." Ruwaid's voice was emotionless and that's what scared the 2nd in command the most.

"You are right, my Lord." Mikail bowed his head.

"They murdered our families and we WILL have our revenge." Ruwaid turned in his saddle and stared with deadened eyes at the stumbling figure and grinned maniacally.

"Oh yes. We will have our revenge."