Disclaimer: I don't own squat, not a damn thing. Well, I own a rather nice pair of red Converse high-tops, but that's it. As far as Ardeth, Evy, or Rick, no, sorry, not mine. The OC, however, is mine. Flames will be used to light my backyard barbecue pit. Please R&R, I'm desperate.
-Belle
Her picture had been dispersed to his agents throughout the city. Cairo, Luxor, and Port Said were all alerted to the possibility that she may make an appearance. The blond man was taking no chances. Joshua Lieger was only a memory, but Lira Onen was still at large, and there was no way to determine how much she knew. They couldn't take that risk. It had been planned well, the Egyptian authorities chalked it up to roving thieves and that's all the report would say. One of their agents had identified the body and so he was cremated and scattered to the winds. The report claimed that the girl was taken and would likely not be heard from again, and with no family to mourn her it was an open and shut case.
The blond man refused to underestimate her, though. He would stop at nothing to find her. Alexandria, Greece was under tight surveillance as well as Sinop, Turkey where she'd spent a year and a half. They'd already tracked down the sword smith and he was kept under constant watch. There was no way for him to know whether she'd left Egypt or not. He'd been in a hospital in Cairo for several days, and by the time he was able to speak with the Bedouin tribe he'd paid to get rid of the woman she'd been missing for almost three weeks. It was, at best, a surprise that they could allow the woman to escape. It only served to make him more suspicious of her survival. As it was, all he could do was wait.
Fortunately, Lira had become an accomplished rider during her time in Sinop. The sword smith had informed her that it was in her blood, that Turks were renowned swordsman. He'd said the same of their cuisine and he'd been right, so she took his word for it. It all came in handy as she followed the Med-Jai commander through what she thought was an unnavigable desert. Every dune looked the same to her, but Ardeth seemed to know where he was going. She continued having those odd visions, but with less frequency. She took it to mean that she was recovering. Before they departed she'd been gifted with two sets of robes from some of the women in the village and the riding boots she'd been wearing. Each night they would stop and set camp. The med-Jai chief and packed a certain amount of firewood on both their horses, and whenever they came across a dead bush or a fallen tree he'd collect more.
The dried meat and bread they brought wasn't as bad as she'd suspected traveling food would be. Ardeth seemed particularly skilled with turning it into a decent stew. The first two nights, they found themselves sitting across the fire from one another talking long into the night in spite of their need for rest. She told of her life in the orphanage and her time in Turkey. She even had the mind to tell him exactly what happened the night the raiders attacked. In turn, Ardeth told of his father, a brave and brilliant leader who adored his family. Lira found it bizarre to imagine this man having a childhood. He assured her that he'd had a very active youth and so he was no longer plagued by childish behavior.
By the third night, Lira was beginning to feel the effects of the heat and constant riding. She kept well hydrated, but riding was a far more strenuous activity than most gave it credit for. As she dismounted and began to unstrap the saddle, Ardeth noticed how exhausted she appeared. Her shoulders were slumped and her arms frequently hung limp at her sides. As she reached to remove the saddle she soon realized she lacked the strength to lift it. Everything happened in slow motion as the heavy saddle slid off the horses back and Lira stumbled backwards. She managed to drop the saddle and push herself back so that it landed haphazardly at her feet. The horse whinnied and sidestepped away from the commotion as Ardeth rushed to her side with just a little more haste than was strictly necessary.
"Are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand behind her back as he pushed the saddle away. Lira dusted off her legs and shook her head with a rueful smile.
"I'm fine. Just a little more tired than I'd realized." she replied, her face scarlet, "Really, it was my own fault." Ardeth shook his head.
"I've been keeping you awake these past two nights. It was terribly selfish. You need your rest." he insisted, helping her to her feet. Lira just laughed.
"That one's a two way street my friend. I haven't exactly been blameless in that." She countered, "I've been keeping you up these past couple nights and you're the one who needs to be with it enough to lead us to Cairo." He shook his head and helped her to her feet where she continued to brush the sand off her robes.
"It has not been such torture as that." He insisted, "And this will perhaps be that last time that we speak." With those words a strange malaise fell upon both of them, and Lira quietly went about the business of brushing down her mount while Ardeth left to go start the fire. Both of them were quiet for a good long while. Finally the fire was lit, the horses groomed, and Ardeth had dug out their last stores of food. Lira looked at the dried meat, bread, and dates resting on the linen napkin on her lap. Ardeth couldn't help but notice how she picked at her food.
"Is something wrong with the food?" he asked, taking a drink from his water skin. Lira shook her head.
"It's that last we have, and you need some to return to your camp." She said quietly, nibbling on a date. The Med-Jai chief couldn't honestly believe his ears.
"Do not be ridiculous. You clearly need your strength. I was to purchase more provisions in Cairo before returning." He said, folding his now empty napkin. He stood up and walked to where she sat leaned against her saddle in the sand. He crouched down and looked at her chidingly, "You will eat your food." A smile snuck at the corner of her lips.
"Because there are starving orphans in Greece who'd be grateful for this food." She mocked. Ardeth put his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to laugh and hiding the smile on his face behind his curly, shoulder length black hair. In a moment he was composed and tilted his head back up. The smile had disappeared but she could still see the mirth in his eyes. She decided against calling him on it, and instead took a large bite out of the oddly sweet bread.
"Youf haffy nowf?" she asked with a mouth full of bread.
"You are incorrigible." He muttered with feigned exasperation. Lira grinned with her puffed out cheeks and scooted over, patting the sand next to her so that he could sit against the saddle instead of crouching so uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. Ardeth obliged and made a conscious effort to keep from sitting too close.
Finally, she finished her food, took a good long drink from her water skin, and sank back against the saddle with a sigh. The stars were out in force and they looked brilliant. Rarely could she keep her eyes off them, and in the desert they seemed so much brighter.
"I've been wondering," Ardeth finally spoke up, "what it is that interested any young woman in swordsmanship. Many of our women learn from necessity, but few are inclined to learn such deadly arts of their own volition." Lira, who had had her head tilted back, straightened up and set her gaze forward, looking into the fire with a small smile.
"Remember how I said I read a lot?" she asked. Ardeth nodded, and though she wasn't looking at him, she continued, "I read the kinds of stories that most women would find little interest in. One of the matrons at the orphanage leant me a copy of Beowulf once, and I couldn't put it down. Since then I've read The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Kalevala, and various takes on Arthurian legend. I managed to get my hands on some excellent Celtic and Gaelic lore, some old Arabian tales, even some Japanese and Chinese legends. I can't help it, some part of me can't resist romanticism. That's really what it is, a persistent belief that somewhere out there is a brave and valiant hero waiting for me. I never could find him, so somewhere along the way I decided maybe I was supposed to be the hero riding to another's aid."
"So, you're not quite the hero of your story…" Ardeth ventured.
"But I'm not the damsel in distress, either." She concluded. For a moment there was silence. Each sat staring into the fire, occupied with their own thoughts. It was Lira who finally broke the silence. "It's quite silly though, isn't it?" she said softly, "There are no shining knights, and if there were they wouldn't see any need to rescue the girl who looks after herself. Besides that, they're all just stories."
"Many stories are based on a certain amount of truth. There had to be an inspiration after all." Ardeth offered, "I wouldn't give up hope so soon."
"I suppose not. Perhaps I should read tales of unrequited love instead of these romantic fables. Fool the fates so to speak."
"I cannot imagine that would improve things much." Ardeth said with more gravity than perhaps he should have. Lira looked at him with interest. She'd learned much more about him during their trip, and she was curious to hear about his 'lost love' as she imagined it.
"So I assume you have a story to tell?" she asked cryptically. He turned his head slowly to her and she took in a look of grief so profound that her heart felt like a rock thrown into the pit of her stomach.
"Long ago there was a warrior who protected the palace of a great king. He would stand guard at the south gate and one day he saw a woman of little or no consequence pass by. She was of unsurpassed beauty in his eyes, but she was far below his station. Nevertheless, his heart became lost to her, and he requested that same post each day. And each day she would pass by, never meeting his gaze but once. The soldier would forever treasure that one moment as he lived on, got married, grew old, and died. Never did he speak to the woman who so captivated him, for his foolish sense of pride and duty prohibited him. For all he knew, she was oblivious to his existence, but to him she was the sun itself." The story was told with great care and solemnity. Afterward, Lira could feel the tears stinging her eyes and she choked them back, averting her gaze to the hands folded in her lap.
"A most unfortunate fate." was all she could manage to say. The silence crept in and a weight pressed up Ardeth's shoulders. As any man with his responsibilities would recognize, he'd reached a crossroads. It was time to decide where his path lay, and much to his surprise, he had no say in it whatsoever. It was impulse that compelled him to reach out his hand and softly brush her cheek, turning her head to him. His heart pounded like it did in battle and as he looked into her eyes she did not try to turn or pull away. For a moment they stayed and the crackling of the fire was lost to the world. The stars faded from the sky and the moon died. Their faces slowly inched closer, and Lira could feel her eyelids droop involuntarily. At first it was just the tips of their noses brushing gently together, her pulse raced with the contact. Each savored that moment, so innocent and intimate at once.
Finally he could wait no longer and he tilted his head, tentatively brushing his lips against hers. She thought her heart might explode and her head float away as the energy inside felt too large now to be encompassed by her mere flesh. Like a great flood she pushed on and claimed his lips with a tenacity and tenderness that surprised him. His spirits soared as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. It was a moment of absolute delight and he couldn't bear to let it go. But slowly, ever so slowly reality began to creep back, tugging on his shoulders and knotting his stomach. She had to leave. She had to go back to her life, and he had no right to stop her. Slowly he pulled away, his heart breaking as he saw the mingled fire and confusion in her eyes.
"We must rest," he said in a low, almost inaudible voice, "We have a long ride ahead of us. With that he let go, pushing himself to his feet and returning to the opposite side of the fire. He refused to look at her for fear of what her eyes would betray. It was all for the better, he assured himself, but even the most logical part of his mind barely believed it.
A/N: My thanks to Pirate Gyrl for sticking with me and also Elrowen Tinuviel for reviewing once again. I do my best to please. And Elrowen, if you think you're up to it would be great if you could beta read this stuff. There are perks. You get to see the chapters before anyone else, and all you have to do is point out all my little grammer and spelling errors (and there are many). Anyway, here's the new chappy, finally some squishiness. I know a lot of people have been waiting for it (at least I keep telling myself that).
