Chapter 8

Ardeth and his warriors looked down on the distant camp from the ridge. It had taken two and a half years to track down the band of thieves who had killed his mother, but tonight, he would avenge her. As they waited for the bandits to settle in for the evening, Ardeth thought about the past couple of years. He and his warriors had searched throughout the Sahara, looking for tribes of cutthroats and had struck them down systematically. The Medjai were getting renowned for their tenacity in killing the thieves, and the peaceful tribes had welcomed the vow of the fierce black warriors. His people had lived in safety for quite a while, now that they had struck fear into the hearts of the bandits.

As his horse pawed the ground, he sighed in satisfaction for the coming battle. The only drawback was the fact that Hamid had insisted on riding along. He had refused to stay in the village, wanting to take part against the bandits that had taken so much from the Medjai on that fateful day, and after much arguing, Ardeth had decided to let him ride along. He looked over to the handsome warrior, noting the excitement in his eyes, and grinned to himself as he felt it, too.

He watched as the bandits went about preparing their evening meal, and signaled to his warriors it was time to go. They quietly followed Ardeth and Hamid down from the ridge, winding silently through the little pathway in the rocks, until they came to the bottom. They trotted around the hill and came into full view of the campsite.

"Yalla! Nimshee!" cried Ardeth, spurring his horse to a run, and heading straight for the bandits. His warriors took up the battle cry as they raced towards the camp, sending the bandits scurrying for their weapons. The Medjai thundered into the encampment, cutting down the warriors as quickly as they could.

Ardeth's blade sliced in great arcs, coming down on the hapless bandits that were unfortunate enough to be in his way, as he rode through them. Things were going well until one bandit was lucky enough to knock Ardeth off of his horse. Ardeth got to his feet quickly and grabbed his scimitar, bearing down on the bandit and killing him with ease. He ran around the compound, helping his fellow warriors, crying out in victory with each kill he made. He was like the devil himself, his black robes billowing out around him while his deadly blade turned red with the blood of his victims. He found himself slowly moving away from the main part of the battle, finding strays that were trying to escape, when he came upon four bandits at once. He stopped short, noting that they had surrounded him, and quickly drew his other blade. He realized the precariousness of his position, but knew he had to fight his way through it, as his warriors were unaware of his whereabouts, fighting their own battles. Ardeth had just enough time to verify that his second in command was still alive and on his horse, when the four bandits attacked him. With both blades flashing, he dispatched one bandit quickly, while the other three circled him, looking for an opening. They made some feints towards him, slowly backing him up out into the desert, but never attacking fully, which made Ardeth very cautious. They kept coming at him, pushing him backwards, and finally the sand beneath his feet felt different, as it began sucking at his black boots. Ardeth recognized the quick sand and knew he couldn't back up any further. The three bandits tried to force him back, but he stood his ground, parrying their ineffectual blows with ease. The bandits were finally forced to carry through with their attacks and did so simultaneously. Ardeth sidestepped one bandit and pushed him on his way by, sending him into the sandy death they had planned for the Medjai chief. Ardeth felt better about his odds now, and became less cautious as he began to close in on the two remaining bandits. They battled, alternately attacking Ardeth and resting in between, but it left the young lord breathing heavily as the constant exertion began to take its toll.

One of the bandits attacked him furiously and signaled for the other bandit to join in, and together, they were able to knock one of Ardeth's scimitars out of his hand. His hand stung from the ringing blow, but his determination made up for the loss of the blade as he reached in under an attacking sword and scored a fatal thrust. Now it was down to one bandit and himself. The bandit was clumsier than Ardeth, but Ardeth was tired and the bandit's blade began to narrowly miss Ardeth. Ardeth put on a burst of energy and struck repeatedly at the bandit, wearing him down, but, as he swung his blade high for the killing blow, the bandit sideswiped him, ripping through his black robes and slashing his side deeply. Ardeth cried out in pain, but pushed through it and brought his scimitar down on the bandit. The bandit fell to the ground in a heap, as blood poured from the blow to his head. Ardeth put a hand to his wound, wincing against the pain, and slowly walked back among the tents.

The Medjai had all but finished killing the bandits when Hamid saw his chief staggering towards him. Ardeth observed Hamid still on top of his horse and gave him a look of encouragement, then his scimitar slipped from his bloody fingers and he collapsed to the ground.

"My lord!" Hamid yelled, quickly dismounting and running to the fallen chief. He turned Ardeth over carefully, and saw the ugly wound, which was bleeding freely into the sand. Ardeth's eyes opened slightly. "Be strong, my lord. We will get you back home immediately." Ardeth tried to smile but the pain was too great and he fell unconscious. Hamid yelled for a couple of warriors to lift the fallen chief to Hamid's horse. Hamid climbed up in the saddle and Ardeth was placed in front, lying across Hamid, as he held the chief in the crook of one arm. Then Hamid turned to the warriors. "Yalla! Nimshee!" and they sped off towards their valley, with Hamid holding the dark lord tightly, and praying to Allah all the way.

It was dark when the Medjai thundered into the compound and came to an abrupt halt. Hamid yelled for the healers while a couple of warriors began to ease Ardeth off of the horse. The people of the village were hushed as they watched their great leader lowered from the horse and carried into his tent. Anara came over to Hamid.

"Is he....?" The fearful look in her eyes echoed the silence of the villagers in the compound.

"Not yet," replied Hamid grimly. He followed the healers into Ardeth's tent and watched as they quickly checked his wound, cleaning it, and seeing how deep it went. The healers spoke low to themselves and Hamid knew there was nothing he could do to help his chief, so he left the tent. He walked up to Anara and held her close as her tears streamed silently down her face, then slowly walked her back to their tent. He stopped outside the door and spoke to her. "I have to see to the rest of the people. I will let you know how he is as soon as the healers have finished with him." He kissed her deeply, as if needing all of her strength to come with him, and then let her go, to walk back to the throng that still hovered around the Medjai chief's tent. "People, go back to your tents. There is nothing we can do now for our great lord except to pray. Pray to Allah, that Ardeth Bay will live." The villagers disbursed slowly, some of the women weeping, as they walked back to their tents, and Hamid saw to the rest of the compound, making sure it was settled in for the night. Then he walked slowly back to his tent, thinking about the battle. It had been an enormous victory, but at an enormous cost.

The next morning Hamid was awakened early by one of the healers. He rose from his bed and dressed quickly, then followed the healer to Ardeth's tent. He stepped inside and saw the young lord lying still on the divan, his face pale in the light from the lanterns, and his breath coming in shallow gasps. The healer spoke in hushed tones.

"We have stitched him up the best we can, but he has lost a great amount of blood. It is now up to Allah if he will live or not."

Hamid looked at the healer. "Ardeth will live. He will not leave his people. He has promised to bring forth an heir, and he will do as he has said."

The healer looked at him and bowed, then left the tent. He sat by his lord's side for a while, bowing his head, and offering up his own silent prayers to Allah for Ardeth's continued healing, for he didn't feel the conviction of his own words. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his loving wife's eyes. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it briefly. "He is still alive, but he has lost a tremendous amount of blood. The healers are not sure if he will live."

Anara walked around the divan and knelt by Ardeth's side. "He will live. He has a great determination to succeed in all things and he will not leave his people." She reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from Ardeth's face.

Hamid looked at his beautiful wife's face, so full of faith at her own words, and smiled. "You are right. He will live." Hamid stood up to go but stopped by the tent flap. "Anara, I will send one of the women in here to bring you the things you need, but I want you to take care of him. Stay by his side today, in case he awakens."

Anara turned to her husband. "But what of our sons?" she asked.

"I will send them over to the council of women. They will take care of them." They gave each other an encouraging smile, and then Hamid walked out of the tent.

Anara turned her attention back to Ardeth and gently stroked his grey-tinged face in the early morning light. One of the council of women brought in a cloth and a bowl of water, and set it by Anara, then walked out of the tent again. Anara dipped the cloth in the cool water and carefully cleaned his face of the dirt and sweat from the battle the night before.

She stayed by his side throughout the day, while the women brought her food and anything else she could need. Towards evening, she sent for the healers. Ardeth had broken out in a cold sweat and was tossing and turning in his unconsciousness. The healers came in, followed by Hamid, and checked him over. When they were done, they turned to the second in command.

"He fights the very devil himself now," said one of the healers. "See how he moans? And his face runs with sweat." The healer looked grim as he made his last pronouncement. "Tonight, we will know whether he will live or die. There is nothing more that any of us can do. It is up to him."

Hamid nodded to the healers and they left the tent. He stared at Anara, not knowing what to say, and finally walked out the door. Anara continued to wipe the sweat off of Ardeth's forehead, trying to soothe him as best as she could.

A short while later, Ardeth's tossing and turning stopped, making Anara gasp in fear at the sudden stillness. She trembled as she touched the side of his tattooed face, watching closely to see if he still breathed or not. His eyes opened at her touch and Anara sighed in relief. "Ardeth," she called gently.

He looked at her and a ghost of a smile graced his lips. "Anara," he croaked out.

"Sh. You must lie still and keep quiet. Save your strength to heal yourself."

"It might be...that I am not meant...to be healed," replied Ardeth weakly.

"You must," contradicted Anara. "You are the heart of the Medjai. Our people need you." She continued to stroke his face, trying to ease his pain.

"You and Hamid have sons. If I die, there will be a new chief, one who has heirs."

"You listen to me, Ardeth Bay. You once promised the council that you would bring forth an heir when the time was right. You are not allowed to break your promises, just because you are our lord."

Ardeth sighed. "I should have married you Anara."

Anara smiled at that remark. "No Ardeth. You were right. I am not the one for you. It is Hamid that I am in love with. I just did not see it at the time, I was blinded by the attraction of being the wife to the Medjai chief. It was not real love. Now, I have love for my husband and our children, just as you will have love for your wife someday."

"If Allah permits me to live," whispered Ardeth.

Anara gently took his face between her hands and stared into his eyes. "Allah will permit it, but you must fight for it also. Rest, now, and dream of your love."

Ardeth slowly closed his eyes as Anara stroked his face. She watched as his breathing slowed to an even rhythm as he fell asleep, but was amazed when he gave a deep sigh and she heard him faintly mumble, "Elizabeth". She smiled big for she realized he was still in love with the strange English woman, even after all these years. She brought her face close to his ear and whispered, "Yes, Ardeth, dream of her. She will make you strong." She continued to stroke his face as evening fell, praying to Allah that her lord would heal.



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