Chapter 8

The next day Elizabeth was sure she had done something wrong, for the few times they had stopped to rest, Ardeth didn't say two words to her, busying himself with watering the horses and seeing to his men. They rode hard and fast all day long, with Ardeth pushing the horses and his men almost past their endurance. Elizabeth was miserable, mentally and physically, and she couldn't wait until they stopped for the night to talk to Ardeth. But evening came and went and still they rode on. It was nearing midnight when Ardeth slowed the horses down to a walk, which Elizabeth was thankful, for it gave her a chance to rest her head against Ardeth's back and try to sleep. She jerked awake once when she felt herself starting to slide off the horse. She wrapped her arms around Ardeth tighter and he, sensing her exhaustion, covered both of her hands with one of his, to help her hold on. "It will not be much longer," came his low voice from in front of her.

Elizabeth sighed in relief. "And then we'll stop for the night?" she asked hopefully.

"Then we will stop for good. This part of the journey will be over. Our village is only a couple of miles away."

Elizabeth was shocked. "Oh." She wouldn't get one more night with him alone, she realized.

She couldn't think of anything else to say, so they finished the ride in silence. Elizabeth peeked around Ardeth and saw the distant light from his village and was suddenly afraid. She started trembling and Ardeth mistook her fear for a chill.

"You will be warm soon, I promise", he said solemnly.

She didn't feel like correcting him so she left it alone, waiting to see what would happen to her.

They rode into the quiet village, with only a few night guards to greet them. Elizabeth was in awe of the little community, wondering at the numerous tents that dotted the valley. There was a large pit in the center of all the tents with a fire going, and she could see a well off to the side of the corral. It was so different from London! The warriors dismounted and herded the horses into the corral, while Ardeth led his horse over to a tent across the way. As curious as Elizabeth was to see everything, she was also tired and glad to have finally arrived. Ardeth stopped the horse by the tent and came around to Elizabeth.

"Wait here," he commanded softly.

Elizabeth watched as Ardeth went to the tent flap and said something softly in Arabic. There was a muffled answer from inside, and then Ardeth came back to the horse. He held out his arms to her, but Elizabeth wanted to be dignified on her first night here.

"I can walk myself," she said caustically.

"There are sharp rocks and you will cut your feet." He held her with his eyes and Elizabeth finally backed down, too tired to pursue this argument. She swung her leg around and put her arms around his neck, then slowly slid into his arms. He carried her to the tent flap and said something else in his native tongue. The flap was opened up, and a short, grey-haired woman stood there with a small lamp. She beckoned them in and Ardeth carried Elizabeth inside. Elizabeth could see that the tent was partitioned into two rooms, a larger, living type area, and a smaller area, which she assumed was the sleeping quarters. Ardeth and the woman continued their conversation as Ardeth took her into a smaller room and laid her down on a divan covered with pillows and blankets. Elizabeth intended to rest her head on the pillows for just a moment but sleep quickly claimed her conscious mind. Ardeth looked at the older woman and an imperceptible look passed between them, then the woman went back into the larger room. Ardeth sat down on the edge of the little bed and began to undo Elizabeth's turban, when her eyelids flew open.

"Who is that woman? Is this your tent? What about the chief?" The rush of questions flew from her lips amidst yawns that threatened to unhinge her jaw.

Ardeth put his finger to her lips. "No questions tonight. Sleep now." His deft fingers found the two hairpins and he pulled them out, letting her hair tumble around her shoulders and down her back.

"But..." protested Elizabeth as she started to rise.

"Sh. You can trust the woman." He gently pushed her back against the cushions. "She is my mother." Elizabeth's fears left her at those words and soon, sleep came back to reclaim its own. Ardeth got up and walked to the small doorway. He turned back and gave the sleeping figure a long look, then left her alone.

Ardeth went back to his tent after making his rounds of the village, checking to make sure all was well. He entered his tent and noticed that someone had lit the small lamp for him. He looked around and frowned as he saw a tray of fresh food on the small table and that someone had straightened everything up, for it was definitely not the way it was when he had left. He walked through into the smaller partition and saw a recently lit small oil lamp and a pitcher of fresh water by his bed. He sighed heavily as he noticed the small desert blossom on his pillow above the turned-back blanket and knew without a doubt who had done all of this.

"Anara," he rasped in frustration.

He walked back to the main partition and threw back the tent flap to find the person of his displeasure standing before him. The moonlight sparkled off the beads of her veil as her eyes glowed with pleasure from gazing on him. "You have finally returned," she purred.

Ardeth disregarded the tone of her voice. "What are you doing up this late? You should be in bed." He groaned inwardly as the words flew from his mouth, realizing too late the almost open invitation.

Anara stepped up to him. "I would gladly obey my lord, if he would invite me in," she breathed as she put her hands on his chest.

Ardeth grabbed her hands and pushed them away from him. "You will do as your Chief commands and return to your tent. Now."

Anara looked at him and noticed something different in his attitude, but she couldn't figure out what. He had put off her advances towards him many times before, but not with such cold detachment. She decided not to press him about it until she could talk to him and find out if anything had happened within the past week that could have changed him so. "As my lord commands." She gave him a smile and walked across the compound to her tent. Ardeth watched her for a moment, and then turned back into his own tent.

He looked down at the tray of food and knew he should eat something, but he wasn't hungry. He was restless and, even though they had just ridden in, he felt the need to ride off into the desert once more. He paced his tent, kicking up the carpets that covered the sandy floor, and scowled at his situation. He was very attracted to the English woman, which he knew was wrong of him. He had his people and she had hers, two vastly different cultures that would not tolerate mixed marriages. He tried to compare Elizabeth and Anara, to see if that would dissuade his desire. Anara was the beauty of the village, much more attractive than Elizabeth. But, Anara would always do what he said, she would anticipate his needs before he would even know what they were, she would never contradict him. She would love him and give of herself until death claimed one of them. She was the perfect wife.

Elizabeth was not as beautiful as Anara but she had her own charm and grace, different from anything he was used to. She would question him, disobey him, get angry with him, but at the same time, she would be the passionate lover that would take as well as give. It would never be boring, he thought. Images of her raced through his mind: as she bathed in the moonlight, as he had held her when he had first abducted her, as she had turned to him in her sleep, and of their passionate kiss the night before. She was the challenge that he needed. But it could never be. He had his people to take care of, like his father before him. He could not forsake them for a foreigner. And no matter how she protested, she belonged to another man. He closed his eyes, thoroughly frustrated at the situation. "Allah help me," he whispered into the night.

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The next morning, Elizabeth woke up to a cacophony of sounds as the people of the village went about their morning routine. She couldn't understand any of it, since she didn't know Arabic, but it felt good to hear the noise of a crowd again. She stretched, threw back the blanket and got up, quickly massaging her scalp as she walked to the doorway. She peeked into the other room and saw Ardeth's mother mending some clothing.

"Good morning," said Elizabeth tentatively.

The older woman looked up and smiled as she put down her mending. She crossed to Elizabeth and took her hand. "Good...morning," she said in broken English.

"Do you speak English?' inquired Elizabeth.

The older woman looked at her sadly and shook her head no. Elizabeth didn't want to upset her, so she gave Ardeth's mother a warm smile, which was returned. Just then, a voice spoke in Arabic outside the tent. Elizabeth's face lit up as she recognized Ardeth's voice. The older woman answered and he came in. He wore clean black robes, and it was evident he had taken a bath, for his beard was trimmed up and his hair was still damp from the washing it had received. He hadn't put his turban on yet and Elizabeth gazed at his hair, sighing inwardly as it accentuated his already devastatingly good looks.

He spoke with his mother for a few minutes, and then turned his attention to her. "Did you sleep well?" he asked politely.

"Yes," she smiled at him.

"Good. I must meet with the counsel for a while. My mother will feed you and then get you washed with new clothing. She does not speak English, but you can trust her."

He turned to go but Elizabeth stopped him. "How is it that you speak English then?" she asked.

"When the English first started coming to our country years ago, it was decided that the Medjai Chief would learn their language, so as not to be taken in by the white man. Later, all of the Medjai warriors learned the language, for we found it very useful to listen in on conversations."

Elizabeth was aghast. "You eavesdropped on people!"

"We had no choice. We had an ancient oath to fulfill and we stopped short at nothing, not even death, to keep our sacred oath. The oath no longer exists, so the need to kill is abolished."

Elizabeth had paled at his words. "I see," she replied unevenly.

"Do you?" His voice was flat as he spoke. "In the desert, we do what we must to survive." He hadn't meant to shock her like that, so he softened his voice as he continued. "Learning your language was essential. Soon, it was found out how easily the children pick up the language, and so they were taught. It is only the old ones who do not know the language. All others are quite fluent in English." He walked up to her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Trust my mother. Her name is Rameth. She will take good care of you until it is time for your return to Cairo."

He turned to go but Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. "Won't I see you anymore?" she asked anxiously.

Ardeth looked down at her small white hand on his arm and swallowed against the fire that began building with in him. He looked back at her. "I will see you later, after you have had a chance to rest." He turned abruptly away from her and walked out of the tent.

Elizabeth sighed, still wondering what she had done to deserve such cold treatment from him. He had been like this since they had kissed. Perhaps he truly was disgusted with her wantonness and didn't want to be around her anymore. Yet she refused to give up. All she needed to do was talk to him, of that much she was sure. If she could just get him alone for a short while...

Elizabeth jumped as Rameth took her hand and led her over to a little table and chairs. She gestured at her to sit down, which Elizabeth did, and Rameth proceeded to set food before her. Elizabeth smiled up at her, grateful for the small feast, and began eating. She discovered she was quite hungry and finished her meal in no time. Rameth gave her a questioning look and Elizabeth smiled and put her hand on her belly, hopefully indicating she was full and it was good. Rameth smiled and once again, led her by the hand, this time, out of the tent and across the compound to a smaller tent.

The villagers got quiet as they watched the stranger walking with Rameth, looking at her funny clothing that showed part of her legs, and her long, red hair. The younger children were not afraid and they came right up to her, babbling in Arabic and touching her robe. She smiled at them and they smiled right back, all of them looking up at her with their big, dark eyes. They arrived at the front of the tent and Rameth shooed them away, at the same time calling for some of the other women to bring water. Elizabeth was taken inside the tent, where she noticed a small tub in the center and a bench with several cloths, soap, a brush and some little bottles which she assumed held perfume or oil. The women came in, each carting two huge buckets of water, and they dumped them in the tub. Elizabeth watched as they piled the buckets in the corner of the tent and then turned to look at Rameth. She spoke to them in Arabic and the handful of women came towards Elizabeth, quickly undressing her and pushing her into the tub. One of them took a pitcher and dipped it in the water to pour over her head and body as she sat there. All of this happened so quickly, that Elizabeth didn't even have a chance to react. She was embarrassed to have all these women watch her and crossed her arms over her breasts as she noticed them looking in that particular area. "I do appreciate what you've done for me but, please, I can wash myself quite well," she said as pleasantly as possible. The women smiled at her, then grabbed the small cloths and soap, and began washing her, not paying any attention to her protestations.

Elizabeth was indignant. "Please, I know you can understand me....this really isn't necessary.....I, please, will you just stop....aahh!" she didn't finish for one of them had poured another pitcher of water over her head and began washing her hair. They chattered away to each other, oblivious to the several shades of scarlet stealing across Elizabeth's face. She couldn't fight them, for they were too deft at this ritual as they turned her body this way and that to get her clean. They pulled her to her feet and washed her lower half, stopping for a moment as they saw her body hair. The women conversed to themselves, as they pointed at particular parts of her body, with Rameth joining in and giving her two shillings worth on the subject. Elizabeth gritted her teeth, wishing for the hundredth time she was back at the oasis, bathing by herself in the moonlight.

When they had rinsed her off completely, they had her step onto the small carpet and began drying her off. Then, while Rameth worked on her hair, the other women took the little bottles, poured the substance into their hands and began rubbing it all over Elizabeth's body. In her mind, Elizabeth knew this was a ritual that was done to everyone, but to her western civilized upbringing, she felt violated. If the cleansing process wasn't bad enough, when they were finished rubbing the oil into her skin, all of them began discussing her body. She couldn't understand the exact words, but they turned her this way and that, touching her everywhere as they compared her to themselves.

Rameth noted Elizabeth's closed eyes and clenched jaw and realized she'd had enough. She clapped her hands and all but one other woman left the tent. The other woman bent over a pile of fabric that Elizabeth hadn't noticed before and began unfolding the garment. It was a white, cotton blouse, and a sienna coloured skirt, complete with matching veil and head covering, along with flat, brown boots for her feet. Rameth held the blouse out behind Elizabeth and she put her arms through the armholes. She noticed the blouse had a lace-up front, which Rameth did efficiently, while the other woman put the skirt over her head. Rameth helped pull the skirt down to its proper place and buttoned it at the back. Elizabeth marveled at the perfect fit, swaying back and forth to watch the fullness of the skirt swing around her ankles. A sash was tied around her waist, accentuating the narrowness of it and making the two women comment on her body once again. Elizabeth felt wicked at the fact that she didn't have any undergarments on and realized they must not use them at all. The clothing was soft against her bare skin and even though she was completely covered, she felt free and unconstrained. The blouse was laced tightly across her chest, the thin fabric showing the outline of her breasts, which seemed indecent to her. Rameth arranged her nearly dry hair down her back as she placed the covering over her head. The veil was beaded and it covered her face, from the bridge of her nose down to the top of her blouse, with a sheer brown fabric. Elizabeth wasn't too happy about the veil part, but she put up with it for now, so as not to offend Ardeth's mother. Both women stood back to look at their handiwork and nodded in satisfaction. Then Rameth escorted Elizabeth back outside and across the compound.

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