Chapter 6

Ardeth watched the warriors ride off, having sent Hamid and his group out to scour the surrounding area for bandits, instead of going himself. The mid-morning air was still, giving an ominous feeling to the dark warrior. Something was not right, he thought to himself. The feeling followed him as he went about his duties of settling disagreements, discussing strategies of defense with the elders, and generally overseeing daily tasks. Lunchtime came and went, and still, the feeling persisted. He tried to shake it off, but to no avail. It was mid-afternoon, and Ardeth had just spoken with Bakkar about a small detail, when he saw them; a large group of bandits at the end of the valley, and heading towards him.

He cried out to rally his warriors together, and ran to his tent to grab his scimitars. As he buckled them on, the bandits thundered into the compound, striking down villagers and setting fire to the tents. Ardeth ran out of his tent and drew a scimitar, holding it above his head and giving a battle cry. He ran between the horses, cutting down the bandits as they went by, his blade flashing in the afternoon sun as it made contact with flesh and bone. The bandits were everywhere all at once, wreaking havoc as they galloped throughout the compound. The villagers ran in chaotic patterns as they desperately tried to dodge the lethal blades. Ardeth growled in anger as he looked around and realized that he and his warriors were outnumbered. He yelled to his men to double their efforts, while the council of elders gathered up as many women and children as they could, and led them up the hill, away from the compound and the fighting. Ardeth and his warriors stood strong against the attackers, killing them with deadly precision, but not fast enough. Being on foot was no match for someone on horseback, and the bandits had mobility, if not organization. Finally, Ardeth and his warriors, through strength, skill, and determination, turned the tide. The bandits suddenly realized they were suffering heavy losses, so they wheeled their horses around and thundered out of the compound.

When the dust settled, Ardeth looked around, breathing heavily from the battle. His face was a mask of stone as he saw that not only bandits lay unmoving on the ground, but some of his people. He and his warriors quickly walked among them, checking for survivors. Ardeth was turning over a body when one of his warriors called to him.

"My lord! Come quickly!"

Ardeth looked up and walked quickly over to where the warrior was kneeling down. He stopped short as he recognized the hem of the skirt protruding beyond the kneeling warrior, and he slowly walked around to see the face of the woman lying in the dirt. The warrior looked up at the young lord, anguish written all over his face.

"My lord! I am so sorry! I tried to protect her the best I could. There were just too many of them at once," faltered the warrior.

Ardeth looked down at the now-immobile, care-worn face of his mother, Rameth, as peaceful in death as it had been in life. "It is not your fault," he said quietly. He kneeled down and gently took Rameth's cool hand in his. "May you see your husband again as you join Allah this day," he said softly. He looked up as he noticed his grandfather right next to him.

His grandfather sighed. "I am sorry that this happened, Ardeth. I know words do not help at a time like this, but she is now reunited with your father...and my son." The old warrior smiled in reminiscence. "I blessed the day he came to me and told me that he and Rameth had shared a tent. Rameth was a fine woman, even though she only bore one child. She was the great love of your father's life, and both of them loved you. Ardam'an would be proud of you, Ardeth."

He heard his grandfather's gentle words, but they didn't sooth the boiling rage inside of him. Ardeth stood up straight and spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. "I will hunt these bandits down if it takes me the rest of my life, or by Allah, I will die trying! They will pay for all that they have done here today! It is no longer a quest, but a promise." He gave his dead mother one last look, and turned on his heel, striding away as he called to his men to move the wounded and dead, and put out the last of the fires.

It was early evening when Hamid and his warriors entered the valley. They could see smoke in the distance and suddenly, Hamid was afraid. He spurred his horse even faster and looked in horror as he came into the village. Several tents had been burned to the ground and were still smoldering, children were crying, women were tending the wounded, and a funeral pyre was set up at the end of the compound, piled with dead bodies. He quickly got off his horse and ran to his tent. "Anara!" he yelled, searching frantically for her. He burst through the doorway of his tent and found it empty. He went back across the compound yelling for her. "Anara!" Finally, he saw her walking towards him, her gait slower than usual, due to her roundness from his seed. She walked up to him and he threw his arms around her and held her close. "Anara, I thought you were dead!" he breathed.

"I am fine, Hamid, see? Not a scratch on me," she let him look her over, as he quickly searched her for wounds. "But Hamid, Ardeth is not fine."

Hamid's face went pale. "What do you mean? Is he...dead?" Hamid couldn't believe that their great leader might have been killed.

Anara's eyes went big. "No! I did not mean that. He is alive, but...Rameth is dead."

Hamid closed his eyes in anguish for the Medjai chief, knowing that his friend would be hurting deeply. "I must speak with him. Where is he?"

"He is up on the dune, scouting for any trace of the bandits."

He looked down into her beautiful eyes and saw the pain reflected there. "Thank you, wife," he kissed her quickly, and then went off in search of Ardeth.

Hamid spied Ardeth standing alone on the dune, and climbed up the hill to him. He said nothing for a while, waiting to see if the young lord would speak first. Finally Hamid's own guilt came forward.

"My lord, I am sorry for deserting you..." began Hamid.

Ardeth put up a hand to stop him. "You did not desert me. I sent you and your men out. The blame is mine."

Hamid walked around so that he was facing Ardeth. "There is no blame for anyone! The bandits attacked without anyone knowing! You beat them back and saved the people!"

"Not everyone," said Ardeth grimly.

"I know about Rameth, Ardeth. I know you are hurting inside, but the bandits have always come and we never know when or why. They have come long before you were born and will continue attacking long after we are all dead."

"Not if I can help it," said Ardeth with a steely voice. "I will hunt them down to the ends of the earth."

Hamid looked at him in disbelief. "You can not mean to hunt down every thieving tribe that exists! That is impossible!"

"It will be done. Starting tomorrow, we shall ride every day and kill every thief and bandit that we come across." The set look on Ardeth's face left no room for argument. Ardeth walked back down the dune, while Hamid stood there watching him.

"Allah have mercy on us all," he sighed, and followed Ardeth.

That night, Ardeth kept to himself, only coming out of his tent for the lighting of the funeral pyre. He watched it for a few minutes, as the flames began devouring the corpses, and then headed back to his tent. He paced in frustration and the sense of loss that had enveloped him. His grandfather had been correct. Without Elizabeth, he had been an empty shell, merely existing from day to day. Now with his mother gone, he felt his own mortality closing in around him. His love was gone, his family was gone except for his grandfather, and he had no heir to carry on. If something did happen to him, Hamid would take over as the Medjai chief, and then his family would carry the honour of the people. Did it matter? He wondered briefly. He could carry out his promise to eradicate the bandits and, as long as he kept Hamid in the village, his second in command would be safe and able to take over if he ended up dying in the desert.

He threw himself down on his divan and closed his eyes, for it was there that he could be alone with Elizabeth, remembering every detail of her. He thought about their journey back to Cairo, letting his mind linger on the nights of their passionate love-making. His body ached for her, his mind cried out to hear her voice and have her disobey him once more, and his heart...the longing in his heart was almost unbearable. He had never even told her he loved her, and that weighed heavily on him. She had said it to him often enough, but his pride and upbringing had silenced his words, even though she had felt his emotion. He wanted to see her, just once more, to tell her that he loved her, but it was too late. Allah had taken her away from him, never to be seen again, just as He had taken away his mother. A dark scowl came over his face as he thought about the bandits. Tomorrow, he would put all of his energy into dealing with these parasites, so that his people could live in peace. That would be his goal from now until Allah called him home.

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