Another chapter. We are sooo close to the end, its maddening for the people that are actually bothering to read this story and sad for me. Its like 4 months of writing is finished in just 3 weeks. How sad! *sniffsniff*

Siri: Huh? Sorry i'm still not makin ne sense of it....when i go *chaching!* its meant to be the sound that a moneytill makes when its wrong up...like a buzzer kiknda thing...er....right...? *hurriedly changes subject* Anyway, heres a cookie!!

girly girl: Wow. Other people who read my story! Heres an update and a reply to u! And here, have a caramel choc-chip cookie! Lotsa sugar!

Nakhti: There you are! i was beginning to get worried, i hadn't recieved a review! But its all good! Fido's an old dog, hes not gonna learn any new tricks anytime soon! And i don't think ud be a big fan of pratchett neway. Some ppl love him, some ppl hate him. *slap* stop talking dirty about my ari! hes my 18 year old! You can have him as the [insert old age] he is in the movie but my ari is INNOCENT and u haven't tainted him....yet.... 23 is not ancient. What are u going on about?? Several of my friends are going out with guys that age, and i'm 17. Turning 18 in april. My friends are 16 and 17. So yeah...early 20's are the time u really blossom! live it up! I'm not even going to touch on the Eomer thing....i'd say that ari is the 'epitome of rugged handsomeness'.....but *shrugs* "Your focus determines your reality"! heheh, i notice no tears over Zen's death...glad shes outta the way? Oh, whats this 'good line' that i apparently wrote? "Then she died"? Ohh yeah, his wounds not fatal...yet. Its only a couple of broken ribs and a hole. Theres only the chance of bleeding to death. Well, you're smart. They're not! Hes wounded keep in mind, that always muddles things up. I really didn't like that payout bout Anubis' minions...it sounded lame. Oatmeal RAISIN?!?! i don't think they even sell them in Australia! No, for that extra long review, you can have a double chocolate, chocolate chip...hmm...have the rest of the packet!

Do you think i'll make 100 on my reviews? Damn, its a very slim chance of reachin it....very slim with my review rate, but GOD, that'd be fantastic....please, please, PLEASE leave a review so i can reach 100! (yeah, i know, i shouldn't beg.......*throws herself to her knees* - PLEASE!!!)

****

Ardeth's eyes widened in shock and fright at Shahin's words.

Shahin laughed at the boy's reaction, but instead of Shahin suddenly lunging towards the boy and causing him a painful and ultimately slow death, as Ardeth expected, the older man roughly grabbed the teenager and dragged him into kneeling position, facing the way that he had come, facing the cave that Jawhar, Zen and their child were hidden.

"But first...i think I would like to see you squirm a little bit." Shahin grinned.

Ardeth's heart plummeted as he heard the words. "J-just..what are you g-going..to d-do?"

"I saw you helping Ruwaid's boy after his beating. So, don't think that I don't know that you care for the boy. For what reason, I don't know. But I do know, that you, however stupidly, do actually care for this boy."

No. If it were possible, Ardeth's heart dropped even further. Even though, his mind rebelled against his feelings, No. You are wrong. I don't care as much for Jawhar, as I do for Zen. I care for Jawhar because I care for Zen.

"No. Y-you're wrong." Ardeth stuttered while Shahin's grin just grew even more malicious.

"Admit it boy." Shahin taunted the wounded child.

"No! You're wrong!" Ardeth tried to make the man believe him.

"Whatever you reckon boy. But if you won't believe that, then how bout this?"

"W-what? You c-can't..harm me m-more then y-you...already have d-done." Ardeth was unconsciously trembling, a fact Shahin found out slightly amusing.

"Yes? Well you see this?" With an over elaborate gesture, Shahin pushed his robe back and brought out a stick of dynamite. "I always carry a couple around with me, just in case, some, er, demolition work is needed. I knew that Ruwaid was going to hide his child and grandchild, so that they could continue the Sami-Nhir tribe, but my orders were to see that both tribes wiped each other out. And my plan was to arrange the war between them both, at which I've succeeded, and then afterwards, I'd kill everyone else. Including Jawhar and his little family. And it's just as well that I do carry around this dynamite with me, because it will come in very handy." Shahin raised an eyebrow at Ardeth and then turned and looked pointedly at the pile of rubble that Jawhar, Zen and their child were hidden in.

Ardeth's face rapidly paled. "Y-you wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" Shahin was enjoying the look of anguish that crossed the youngster's face. "You know me probably better then anyone little Med-Jai. So, you read my mind and tell me, would I?"

Ardeth struggled to speak. What can I say? Even though the pile was 'small' by normal standards, it would undoubtedly badly injure, even kill, anyone caught underneath it. If the collapse of the rubble didn't kill the person, then the concussion from the dynamite probably would. And with Thaqib...Ardeth didn't even want to contemplate the event. The young baby would die. Jawhar would die. Zen would die.

"You don't know if a-anyone I-is..in t-there!" Ardeth stupidly, tried to bluff, despite the fact that his earlier reaction had given away the answer.

"That's true. I don't. Hmmm, that's a good point young one. Yes, I will test my hypothesis with this theory." In a flash, Shahin had lit the fuse to the dynamite, and as soon as the flame had taken hold, he hurled it at Jawhar's hideout.

Ardeth watched in shock, as the stick of dynamite clattered against the side of the hideout and slid down to the side, outside and around 20 centimetres away from the hideout.

"So tell me again little Med-Jai. Would I commit such a horrible act?"

An explosion rocked the valley

****

Hashim truly believed it to be the end, that he was going to die and fail his son, when suddenly, the downward pressure stopped. Hashim blinked in surprise but despite the fact that Ruwaid wasn't pushing down, he wasn't easing up either. The sword was still locked in place.

But in a split second, the sword was gone, flung away from Hashim's neck and Ruwaid's face had drained of all colour. Hashim, noticing Ruwaid's lapse of concentration, kicked the Sami-Nhir off him and quickly swung his scimitar around, to slice across the back of the kneeling man, but his swing faltered and stopped as Ruwaid paid no attention to him, his back turned solidly to the Med-Jai.

Hashim lowered his sword slightly. He could not kill a man with his back towards him. It just wasn't..right. Instead, he licked his lips and in a rough voice snapped, "Fight! That is what you wish isn't it? Then turn around and FIGHT me!"

Hashim expected Ruwaid to rush him, to fight him, to do anything but he was not expecting what Ruwaid actually did do.

Ruwaid dropped his sword, its handle slipping from his fingers and falling soundlessly to the sand. He still wouldn't turn to face his opponent, instead his eyes frantically watching the scene occurring below them.

Unable to resist, Hashim's eyes swung around to the scene as well, widening as they took in the events. The man that had been standing over his son, had chucked a stick of dynamite at a seemingly useless pile of rubble.

But the effect it had on the Sami-Nhir chief astounded the Med-Jai.

"No." Ruwaid whispered, his face pale and it's features contorted in shock and fear. "What are you doing? What are you DOING?!?" Then, in a frantic run, the man stumbled down the dune and tried to sprint towards the rubble-pile.

Hashim's felt unbalanced, like he had been left out of the script. The man he had been fighting, who had had the opportunity to kill him had suddenly left him and run away from him, down the hill.

Hashim did what any person would've done. He ran after his opponent. "What are you DOING?"

Ruwaid didn't even look around, instead shouted while pushing himself even faster, "My son!"

"What?"

"My son and his family are in there!"

"In where?"

The Sami-Nhir chief's answer was cut short, as there was a blinding flash, and a thundering explosion. The intensity of the light, made the men skid to a halt and quickly shield their eyes.

Dust filled the sky and for a while, nothing was visible.

Ruwaid sunk to his knees and whispered, "All is lost."

****

"NO!" Ardeth levered himself up onto his knees and watched in horror as the scene in front of him exploded. "ZEN!"

****

"Jawhar!" Ruwaid choked out, "My son!"

Hashim could only watch on in shock, his thoughts centring on the well-being on his son, and sympathy even extending to Ruwaid. Ardeth.

****

Jawhar was still crying over the still body of Zen, holding her close to him, trying to will her spirit back to her body, when an explosion rocked the little cavern that he was hiding in.

Jawhar almost didn't move, except for his initial jolt of shock. His crying hitched in his throat as fear coursed through his veins as the explosion echoed through the small cavern and the roof shook and dust and small stones fell all around him. Slightly larger boulders thudded into the ground beside him but Jawhar was too consumed with grief to notice, and if he had've noticed, he wouldn't have cared. If he had've moved to touch the wall, he would've felt the strong vibrations from the explosion outside but as it was, the shriek of rock moving on rock only barely reached his ears. It was the choking dust and the painful ringing in his ears that alerted him that something was wrong.

Jawhar lifted his head from it's bowed position and looked up towards the entrance of the cavern. Something deep within him was warning him, screaming at him to get out of the rock death-trap or for an instant, Jawhar let his self-preservation overrule his grief and he struggled to get to his feet.

But his legs were wobbly, felt like jelly and wouldn't hold up his weight. His ears were still ringing from the blast and he couldn't hear anything except the pounding of his own blood in his veins. His vision was double and hazy, the light shining through the entrance of the cavern was splintering and turning into a halo which surrounded the inside of the cavern's mouth, and also, Jawhar slowly shook his head lest if fall off, there were two entrances. But there was only ONE entrance, Jawhar muzzily remembered.

The effects of a concussion from a blast could be deadly; Jawhar knew this and surmised that he was obviously just feeling the mild after-effects of the blast. The wall mostly shielded him but even so, the effects could still be felt by the boy.

Jawhar tried to take a step forward but stumbled and fell back to his knees. His eyes took in once again, the body of his dead girlfriend and Jawhar didn't move. What was the point of getting up and leaving? There was nothing left for him out there. His tribe was being killed, and Zen was dead.

There was no hope left. What was the point?

Jawhar bowed his head, placed a trembling hand on Zen's still chest and closed his eyes, his mind filled of happy memories, now seemingly hollow.

Somewhere in the dust Thaqib cried.

His father ignored him, consumed in his grief.

****

Hashim regarded the Sami-Nhir man kneeling on the sand, his enemy broken. So the enemy does have feelings, Hashim thought, then reprimanded himself, You would do the very same thing if it was your son.

Hashim stepped forward and gently placed a hand upon the man's shoulder and was surprised to find him shaking. "I am truly sorry about your son."

Ruwaid made no move to acknowledge the words or gesture. Instead he just knelt there and whispered, "Jawhar, my son. Gone. The last of my children. Gone."

Hashim didn't know what to say. What can you say to something like that? The wadi seemed almost silent, even the sound of metal meeting metal was muted after the explosion. Hashim snapped out of his reverie and turned his thoughts back to the kneeling form on the ground before him.

"Ruwaid! May we have a truce? If we continue like this, you know as well as me, that it can only end with the destruction of both our tribes. Do not let your son's death be in vain. You can still save the other members of your tribe. We can help you re-establish. Ruwaid, please consider a truce..please."

For a long while nothing happened, nothing in the scene moved. Hashim had given up and was just removing his hand when another tanned hand gripped his and held it tight. Hashim almost jumped in surprise, he had not expected such a quick move from such a broken man.

Ruwaid stumbled to his feet and faced the Med-Jai. For the long minutes that Ruwaid had been silent, furious but desolate thinking had occurred. His son was dead. The war was over. The tribe was finished. He would not sacrifice more of his people to the Med-Jai. There was nothing honourable in death, not in this way. He could hear the dying cry of his people all around him as they fought, fought for him, fought for his stupid cause that was costing them their lives.

It just was not worth it. The thought had arrived clearly and rationally to the Sami-Nhir chief.

"You have your truce Med-Jai." This time resignation tinted the chief's voice instead of the furious hatred.

"Thank Allah!" Hashim gripped the man's shoulder tighter, "Thankyou Ruwaid." Then dropping his hand he looked at the Sami-Nhir chief and after Ruwaid nodded in reply, Hashim reached deep into his robe and took out a medium sized horn. Ruwaid also pulled out another horn, lighter in colour and smaller, the only discernable difference between the two instruments.

"You first." Hashim nodded encouragingly to Ruwaid and the man in question, shakily raised the horn to his lips and despite his trembling, the note issued from the horn was loud and strong, its deep bass note echoed throughout the wadi and pierced through even the grunts of the fighting men, the humming of blades as they sliced through the air and the clang of the blades.

A split second later, Hashim followed suit but the note issued from his horn was slightly higher in pitch, and more musical, the different texture of metal creating a more mellow note. As the notes bounced off the dunes and died away, both of the chiefs turned to one another, and in a show of peace, grasped each others hands and forearms.

The warriors on both sides faltered as they heard the tune of truce and as one turned to look at their chiefs, starting slightly to see them grasping hands, in the traditional position of peace. Cautiously, slowly, they lowered their swords and despite the fact that there was no fighting no longer, there were no smiles either. The men on both sides were too busy remembering their comrades who had already fallen before the truce was made.

Hashim looked into the man's distressed eyes and sincerely spoke from his heart, "I cannot find the words to thank you for the truce Ruwaid. And although it may bring no consolation to you, I am very sorry about your son."

Ruwaid blankly regarded the man in front of him for a while, sighed and replied, "Not as sorry as I am. Jawhar was my last child. No parent should ever have to bury their own children."

Ruwaid turned away from the Med-Jai and made to walk off but stopped as Hashim squeezed the man's shoulder again and said, "I'm sorry Ruwaid." The Sami-Nhir chief didn't turn around but spoke softly, a sob catching in his throat, "Thankyou. But you should probably see to your own son Hashim, leader of the Med-Jai."

And with that last remark, Ruwaid shook off Hashim's hand and trudge away, his shoulders slumped, his posture that of a broken man. Shahin is a dead man walking, Ruwaid angrily thought as the slowly trudged away, What the hell was he thinking?!?

Hashim sighed sadly, and turned away to survey his surroundings, Such a wasteful loss. I have never seen so many good men die for something so pointless. His thoughts turned towards Ruwaid son. Even the children were dragged into it, and not spared.

Hashim looked over his men, and saw them looking back at him, their eyes reflected their relief of being alive and their sorrow of losing their friends. Hashim could feel the heavy burden of all the warrior's deaths upon his shoulders. There were times when Hashim detested being the chief of the Med-Jai. Knowing what he should do, and actually doing it, were two VERY different things.

Hashim felt decades older then he actually was.

Hashim could feel the sadness in his soul as he surveyed the bloodstained sand but shook himself out of his stupor. He couldn't show this weakness in front of the men, he was their chief and he was there to bolster their confidence, to make them believe that what they did was right, and what they did WAS right. They had nothing to be ashamed about.

It was Hashim that was ashamed. He shouldn't have let his love for his son rule him. He should've thought rationally, and then maybe, men would've been spared. They wouldn't have rushed into this ambush and almost slaughtered. There would probably be more faces looking up at him, alive, able to feel the warmth of the sun on their skin, the wind of their faces, hear the rustle of the sand grains moving.

But that was in the past now. There was nothing that he could do about that now. Let the dead rest and bandage the wounds of the living, Hashim remembered the wise words his father had left him once after one of his first battles. You will always think of what you should've or could've done after a battle, you will always think of the what-ifs but the battle is in the past. You cannot and can never change the past. You must learn to live with your decisions and bear them nobly as their leader as one would with battle scars. You must show outer strength even if you quail inside. Always celebrate a victory or peace - NEVER let the men's deaths be in vain. They didn't die for that.

Hashim sighed, but squared his slumped shoulders and was about to say something to the men congregated in front of him before running off to find his son when a dusty silhouette caught his eye. His mouth hung open in shock, but hope shined in his eyes. Spinning around Hashim shouted:

"Ruwaid! The cave! The cave! It still stands!"

****

Consider my plea and leave a review!