A little bird named Deana perched on my shoulder one day and for some reason, inspired me to continue this snippet.  Which is rapidly turning into a short story!  Not that I mind but I do have some other writing that's been languishing far too long.  LOL  By the way I feel compelled to add the usual disclaimers and please don't use my own characters without permission.  And with the introduction of some new ones, I warned you all – I have a whole lot of Medjai running around in my mind.  LOL

So with a flourish and drum roll, I give you the third installment of "Warrior Mode" and yes, this will end soon so I can get back to Hero's.  Thanks for reading and enjoy.

Ps – If anyone has an idea for a title to this I'd love to hear it…LOL

~*~

She stood paralyzed with indecision in the middle of the makeshift encampment the warriors had swiftly constructed and seemed almost oblivious to the frenzied activity that had erupted.  Yet she was never more keenly aware when it became apparent that she wasn't the only one who had suffered the loss of friends on this terrible day.  Rider-less horses straggled in alone or in pairs and were swiftly captured by the warriors and then led away and hobbled nearby.  Although she was rapidly learning these strange men were quite adapt at hiding their emotions, a sense of sorrow hung in the air.  Each new arrival could mean only one thing – the death of these men, which seemed pointless and confusing.   

Was she partially responsible?  The expedition had been thoroughly warned by the hired guides from Cairo about the penalty for excavating the tombs located near the city of Thebes.  She and her fellow researchers had originally scoffed at the stories that told of the guardians of the tombs and of the desert; fierce, tattooed warriors dressed in black and exceptionally skilled in battle.  They had all laughed, blissfully ignorant and had never thought that the real danger came from the bandits.  She believe them to be were lawless men or nomads who had kept hidden and patiently waited for the foreigners to unearth the once hidden treasures and artifacts.  And when the hard part of task had been completed, they had swooped in like vultures and killed or captured indiscriminately.  

She felt a shiver of apprehension race down her spine as she recalled the narrow escape from her own demise and wrapped her arms around her body to ward off the chill.  Her thoughts drifted back to her rescuer: the feel of his strong-arms around her waist, the odd remembrance of his scent, a heady combination of male, spice and warmth.  The heated passion that had infused her body when she responded to his kiss…

She needed to know her dark rider was alive, that he had somehow survived the reluctant retreat away from the danger and yearned for the reassurance she would see looking into his eyes.  Quickly her gaze swept over the encampment until she saw his warriors had once again surrounded him and his name sprang to her lips in an anguished whisper, "Ardeth…"

~*~

"Hold him gently, ya ukh, and be mindful of his wounds," Dharr patiently instructed his saHib Solman as the warrior slowly lifted the unconscious body of Ardeth from his horse. 

"Ardeth ya ra'is," Solman replied fervently as he obeyed Dharr's instructions and effortlessly cradled the body of Ardeth against his broad chest.  His eyes widened in surprise when his hand brushed against the sticky fabric of Ardeth's robes, the congealed blood seeping through his fingers and he looked at Dharr for reassurance. 

"Aiwa, you are correct.  Now take him to the healer's tent and do not worry," Dharr said as he continued his instructions, "Ardeth will be fine."

"Dharr ya saHib," Solman murmured quietly and turned away from Dharr, his purpose now focused solely on complying with his command. 

As the giant warrior slowly lumbered away with his burden towards the healer's tent, Dharr gave a weary sigh as Sharif appeared by his side.

"How many are unaccounted for?" he asked as they slowly followed Solman towards the tent.  With growing horror, Sharif realized that the path they followed in Solman's wake was splattered with tiny ruby colored droplets of Ardeth's life blood that had spattered across the sand.

"We have lost Talal and Yusef that we know of, and Nabil, Berin and Jericho are still missing," Dharr replied.  He glanced back to where the woman had been standing since she had first arrived at the encampment and he fought against the anger that settled in his heart.   Loyal to his people and to his chief, Dharr was beginning to find it hard to reconcile the loss of his fellow warriors and possibly his chief against the life of one mere woman. 

"What in the name of Allah happened?" Sharif couldn't help but ask as the two warriors stopped in front of the entrance to the tent.

Dharr didn't have an immediate response as he turned and stared across the encampment at the woman he believed to be the reason for so much sorrow.  "We honored our vow and obeyed the law of the desert: to protect those who are weak and defenseless. I can only hope that performing our sacred duty will not cost more than we can afford to pay."