Author's Note: I cannot express how sorry I am that this story was sidelined for so long. My life took turns I did not foresee and this story began to end up further and further down on my priority list. I only hope that, in the end, the wait was worthwhile. X.M.

Chapter 21 – Coming to Terms

"I'm home!" Rick yelled as he walked in the mansion's front door. It took him a moment to realize that there was no response.

"Hello?" he called into the quiet. "Ardeth? Khay? Alex? Azizah?" Then, finally, "Anybody?" He waited a moment but the silent house spoke volumes. Finding it odd that no one was around to greet him, Rick engaged in a puzzled search through a house that was supposed to be full of people. He was the only who'd left that he was aware of. He'd gone to the docks to drop off the bulk of the Bey's luggage. Ardeth, Khay and Azizah were sailing in two days and he'd hoped to spend the day with them all. After checking all the rooms, he wandered into the kitchen and found Mrs. McLearan.

"Hey, Mrs. M, have you seen Ardeth? Or Khay? Or my wife? Actually, I'm looking for anybody," he admitted with a grin.

"Oh, you poor dear! Of course you are!" The older woman tapped a flour coated finger to her chin as she thought. "Well, now, Mrs. O'Connell and Mrs. Bey went off to do some last minute shopping in town. Young Alex and Miss Azizah went off somewhere, and I saw Mr. Bey walk out the parlor doors and head for the Small Woods not too long ago."

"Well, I guess that covers it, thanks, Mrs. M. Since we have no idea where Alex and Ziz are off to, I guess I'll go try the woods."

"Well, off you go then. Mind, supper's at seven tonight at Mrs. O'Connell's request so don't wander too far."

Rick grabbed a couple of cookies off the ever present plate on the kitchen sideboard and grinned at his housekeeper. "Me miss dinner? Won't happen. What are we having?"

"Never you mind, now scoot. I have work to do!" Mrs. McLearan shooed at him with a large wooden spoon, and Rick scooted out, grabbing another handful of cookies as he left. He skipped going through the parlor door and left through the kitchen instead, heading in the direction of the trees.

The Small Woods, as it had been known since before the manse was built over a century before, was not all that small as the name implied. It actually covered almost eighty acres and ringed a small, clear lake. It was one of the reasons Rick and Evy had bought the property. Something about the privacy of it was irresistibly romantic to the newlyweds, and, after Alex had come along, it had proven a glorious playground for a growing boy. Not to mention the attraction of a built in swimming pool, as Jonathan like to call it. The Woods also called to something deep in Ardeth's soul. He loved the desert, it was his home; and it was to the sandy reaches and exotic oases that he would always return. But the woods, with the dim green light and cool breezes, the damp smell of earth and growing things, was like a siren song he couldn't resist. And the lake! He didn't believe he had ever seen water so blue. He had seen lakes in other lands, even in his homeland, but nothing rivaled the deep blue of this water hiding on the O'Connell's land. He stood on the bank and breathed deeply of the smell of green and water. He was leaving England soon. And only Allah knew when he would return. Something was brewing in the world, the papers confirmed it. Ardeth knew without a doubt that this trouble in Germany would spread far. But that was far away, at least for the moment. Future troubles could wait; he would enjoy what time he had. With that thought, he shed his clothes and waded into the cool, clear water.

Rick blinked as the bright afternoon sunlight vanished into a dimmer green underneath the trees. Picking what he thought to be a likely direction, he headed out in search of his brother. After half an hour of fruitless wandering he decided he had no idea where Bey would have gone.

"Now, if I were a Med-jai warrior wandering around an English forest, where would I go?" he wondered aloud as he walked. He stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to him. He wasn't looking for just any Med-jai warrior, he was looking for Ardeth. His twin. "Rick, you really oughta be used to this by now," he chided himself. A soft laugh sounded in his head and he frowned.

How long have you known I was looking for you, you arrogant bastard? he sent loudly through the channel he shared with the king.

Since you arrived home, came the laughing reply.

Where are you, dammit?

More laughter greeted him, then the link faded, and Rick knew that Ardeth wasn't going to tell him jack. He was on his own. Taking a few enjoyable moments to mutter aloud at the audacity and arrogance of tribal kings Rick then worked at clearing his mind and focusing in on the presence of his brother that was, as of now, ever present in his mind. It was, frustratingly enough, ridiculously easy.

Should you be swimming? he demanded roughly as he headed in the right direction.

You know that I am well healed, came the calm response.

When I get there, I'm gonna dunk you so far under U-boats won't be able to find you.

Ardeth's laughter again came through loud and clear, and Rick realized how much he liked hearing that sound. You are welcome to try, Ahi.

Ahi? What the hell does that mean?

Will not tell you. Perhaps it will prevent you from drowning me, came the teasing reply.

Not bloody likely, Med-jai. Not bloody likely.Rick's prickly mood was quickly evaporating as he bantered with this unlikely soul mate. The insults continued to fly as Rick steadily made his way toward the lake. By the time he reached the shore and had shed his clothes, the American and the Egyptian had escalated to making threats that would be anatomically impossible under the best of circumstances.

"I was unaware," Ardeth mused audibly as Rick swam up to him, commenting on the American's most recent remark, "that camels were jointed in such a way to perform that particular maneuver. Especially given that goats are so much smaller."

"Depends on the goat," Rick retorted as he stopped to tread water next to Ardeth.

Ardeth didn't reply. Instead he gracefully let his body float to the surface and, balancing on his back, he stared at the azure sky overhead. "This is truly beautiful," he sighed as he let the water take his weight. The playful mood faded away as he watched the clouds meandering overhead. "I wish…" He let his voice trail off. Wishing would get him nowhere. There was no genii to grant the king that particular request.

"Yeah." Rick sighed as well. "Still, it's not like forever." There was a small part of him that still marveled at how he knew exactly what Ardeth was feeling. He didn't imagine that would ever go away, nor did he want it to, if he was honest with himself. This bond was beyond any words he had to describe it and he had no words to tell anyone what it meant to him. But he knew that Ardeth knew. And that was enough. "We'll be in Egypt soon enough."

"Mm."

Silence descended over the two men as the floated in the cool water and let their thoughts wander. This was akin to the time they had spent overlooking the Garden City, but better. Especially since Ardeth wasn't anywhere near the brink of death at the moment. "And hopefully won't be for about eighty years to come," Rick thought with an inner shudder. He had come too close to losing this newfound brother of his too many times in recent memory, and thinking about it never ceased to give him the heebie-jeebies, to coin Alex's new favorite saying.

"I saw the newspaper today," Ardeth said suddenly, breaking the moment and coming upright.

"It'll pass. Hitler won't get far."

Ardeth made a face at the fairer man and couldn't help the derisive grunt that issued from his throat.

"Yeah, okay," Rick capitulated, "it's grim. So what? We've faced grim before, right?"

Ardeth wasn't fazed by the wide grin. "Rick, this is serious."

O'Connell started and stared at the Med-jai king.

"What?" the king asked.

"You called me Rick."

"That is your name, is it not?"

"You never call me Rick."

"I am certain I have."

"No. You never have. You always call me 'O'Connell'".

"Perhaps I am tired of 'O'Connell'. And you are changing the subject."

"And what's this 'ahi' thing you've been calling me? That's new, too."

"We were discussing the German."

"Is 'ahi' German?"

"No, it is Arabic. Now, we believe that he will …"

"What's it mean?"

"Brother. Are you listening?"

"I'm hanging on every word. What's it mean?"

"Brother."

"I'll dunk you until you tell me."

Ardeth sighed in exasperation. "Ahi. It means brother."

Rick thought for a moment. "Oh. Who's we?"

The Med-jai made no secret of the fact that he was now totally confused. "We?"

Rick reminded him. "You said 'we believe he will'…"

"Oh, yes." Ardeth shook his head a bit as if to restack his thoughts. "We believe he will not limit his plans to the European continent."

"He. Hitler."

"Yes."

"I don't know, Ardeth. The Americans won't let him get too far before they jump in. It's against their best interests."

"Halim says the Americans will not act until almost the very end."

"And who is Halim?" Having met most of the Med-jai warriors in London, Rick couldn't place the name. Ardeth opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. To anyone else it would have meant nothing more than a glitch in the conversation; perhaps Ardeth was trying to remember if Rick had indeed met the Med-jai in question. But to Rick, alarm bells had begun to ring the second Ardeth failed to speak. In that second, Ardeth was unguarded and Rick accessed his thoughts as easily as he did his own. And what he found out made him furious.

"You were supposed to recuperating!" he yelled. "They were supposed to stay away! You are supposed to be on vacation! On your honeymoon or whatever! When exactly did this council take place? Why didn't you say anything?"

Ardeth began to swim toward shore. "I did not tell you precisely because of this."

Rick grabbed him by the leg and stopped him. "Precisely because of what? Precisely because I happen to care about what happens to you? My God, Ardeth, you almost died! Twice! Just since you've been here! You need time to rest and recover. You don't need to be off consulting with…with… councils about events that haven't happened yet."

"It was imperative I meet with the Med-jai council while I was here. I had been unable to do so until recently. This problem on the Continent will escalate. We needed to make plans. We have done so." Ardeth resumed his swim to the shore.

"And what are those plans? If it's not to much trouble?" Rick demanded as he reluctantly followed.

"We will wait until the trouble directly interferes with our interests," Ardeth told him. "Then we will act in whatever way seems best."

It was Rick's turn to snort. "That's the plan? That's what called you out of recovering and into a Council meeting? You'll wait and see?"

Ardeth had reached a point where he could touch bottom so he planted himself. He had also reached a point where he was no longer tolerant of Rick's castigation and turned on the American.

"Do you think I had a choice when I was asked to attend? Do you think there was any way I could have stayed in bed while my Council was debating impending war? Do you think I would? Tell me, O'Connell, would you have me put concerns for myself above concerns for my people?"

"YES!" Rick shouted. Then, after a moment, "But I know you never would. That's what makes it so hard, Ardeth. I know you will always put your people first, and that, my brother, is hell on the rest of us."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sun bright meadow was an ideal place to not be seen. The tall grasses and wild flowers that waved in the gentle breeze covered any signs of your passing, as well as hid you from view when you sat down. Alex and Azizah had made the meadow their special place in the time the Bey's had been visiting. It was here they had come on the days after Ardeth's injuries had confined him to bed, and where they had come when he had disappeared. Now it served as a solemn temple for the rite they were about to perform.

They had said nothing of their bond to the adults. They feared their parents wouldn't understand. They didn't understand what was happening fully themselves, but, unlike adults, they were content with simply knowing. However, being children, they still needed something definite, something tangible to hold onto in the long years it would take them to grow up enough to make sense of this mysterious magic that drew them together. So, after thinking long and hard, Alex had come up with this idea, and Azizah, thinking the plan perfectly reasonable, had purloined one of Ardeth's thin daggers.

"It won't hurt, Ziz, I promise. It's just like a scratch."

"I do not believe a scratch will draw enough blood, Alex. We will have to cut deeper."

"But if we cut deeper, our mums will see it."

"I will simply tell them that I was playing with Babu's knife and you took it away," Azizah explained simply, gesturing to the blade Alex held.

"They won't believe that!" Alex argued, fingering the leather scabbard he held.

"They will. It will not be the first time I have picked up weapons to examine."

Alex looked at the younger girl with a new respect shining in his eyes. "Honestly? You've taken weapons out of Uncle Ardeth's arsenal?"

"How will I know how they handle if I do not handle them?" the princess wondered with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

If Alex had had any doubts before now, they were gone in that moment. "Ziz, I love you," he declared plainly.

Azizah looked at him seriously. "It is to be."

Two sets of ancient eyes stared at each other for several long moments; the young bodies housing them sat uncommonly still while souls communed and hearts whispered promises to each other of what the future would bring. Finally, Alex stirred and looked at the lowering sun.

"We ought to get on with it then," he suggested.

"Yes," Azizah agreed.

With the utmost care, Alex removed the elaborately carved, delicately thin, ceremonial dagger from its leather sheath. The sunlight caught the honed edge of the blade and send shards of light dancing off into the tall grass. With a deep breath, he joined Azizah's right hand with his own in a loose warriors clasp, then gently slid the knife between their loose palms.

"Ready?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

Azizah took a deep breath of her own, then nodded.

"On three."

"One"

"Two" Azizah intoned.

"Three!"

In unison, they gave the final count, and, eyes on eyes, the two children squeezed their hands together and Alex pulled on the knife. Bright red blood dripped onto the yellow-green grass between their knees but the neither child so much as flinched. They clenched their hands together with as much strength as they cold and held on, tight. Azizah used her free hand to pull two clean hand towels out from her trouser pocket and set them in her lap.

"How long should we wait?" she wondered.

"I … I'm not sure," Alex admitted. "A couple of minutes?"

"Yes, I think that is wise," Azizah agreed.

The children fell silent again, then, after a while, they pulled their hands apart. Azizah handed Alex a towel then pressed one against her own bleeding palm. Alex had wiped the blood from his hand and was examining the thin, welling cut.

"How did we do?" Azizah asked, pulling off her own towel to examine the mark.

"I guess we learned not to play with knives, didn't we?" Azizah looked up and saw a smile twitching at the corners of her Heart's mouth.

"You were wise to take the blade from me. I am far too young to be fooling with such things," she practiced sagely, her own smile tugging for release.

"Well, we won't do it again, will we, will we Ziz?"

"Oh, no. We have most certainly learned a painful lesson."

Unable to keep up the sobriety of their well rehearsed speeches, the two children broke into helpless giggles.