Lariat of Power
Chapter Five
Rami busied himself grooming his horse in the stables while he waited for the Council session to end. He acknowledged Marid and Kyle when they passed by during Kyle's tour of the village. If he had been waiting outside the Council building, he might have seen his cousins walk by with their new companion, heading for the Chieftain's tent with a food tray and fresh water.
He couldn't abide standing around idle when there were other things that needed tending to and he was near enough to hear the Elders exit the building when their session was over. If Marid had not been busy playing tour guide, Rami might have challenged him to that sparring match. In all honesty, he was actually in need of a rest after their recent stint at Hamunaptra, but he was more than willing to wait for that luxury until he had given Ardeth the news of his visitors' arrival.
He didn't have to wait long. In a flourish of robes and raised voices, the doors to the Council building opened to Ghazi and several other elders. Rami caught just a few spat words as they hurried by. "Stubborn as a camel", "pigheaded", and "he will be the end of our way of life" were most prominent.
Rami shook his head in disbelief. The end of their way of life? Ghazi acted as though no other Medjai had ever wed outside of the Medjai tribes. His own cousins, Nida and Sabira, were daughters of a mixed marriage. Khalid Mu'afa had married Stephanie Traner, an English heiress he literally stumbled across in the desert en route to Cairo. Rami smiled remembering his aunt and uncle. They had been so completely in love, bloodlines held no barrier for them. His smile soon faded when the ache of their loss all those many years ago entered his heart.
A growl rumbled from deep within his chest when the memory of the night their village was invaded by the nomadic Berber tribe known as the Tuareg. He swiped at the lock of hair that fell across his cheek when he stooped down to put away the horse brush in a small cabinet in the tack room. The Medjai had long since been an enemy of the Tuareg. Duty and honor drove the Medjai. Not only did they honor the old ways and protect the secrets of the Pharaoh, but they protected
Squaring his shoulders as though fortifying himself against the dark night when he had lost two beloved family members, Rami strode purposefully toward the remaining Elders. He refused to bring those brutal and ugly memories completely to the surface. No one would or even could call Rami Mu'afa a squeamish man, his prowess in battle proved that he was a strong, confident warrior; however, the watching and reliving the deaths of cherished family members could not remotely compare to sights seen or things done in battle.
He finally managed to bury his dark thoughts when he spied Ardeth and Jubran exit the building followed closely by his father. All three shared a grim expression, and Rami knew it did not bode well for Ardeth and his determination to marry Najya with the Elders' blessing. It seemed to Rami that Najya's arrival at the village had come at a good time; Ardeth would be in need of the love of his woman. That is, if Rami was a good judge of people – and he was.
"Yâ ra'is," Rami called out in greeting as he approached the men. "I have a message for you."
"Aiwa, Rami?" Ardeth answered. He forced his practiced blank mask in place, not wishing for any of his warriors to see the conflict within him. Little did he realize, Rami had recognized that conflict in less than a heartbeat.
"New arrivals in camp have requested an audience with the Chieftain," Rami began, deliberately hiding the identity of Ardeth's visitors. Word would spread soon enough, but Rami hoped there would be enough time before certain members of the tribe knew of her presence. Ardeth then would have some time to spend with her before all proverbial hell broke loose.
Ardeth found his eyes squeezing into small slits as his aggravation stewed to a boil. He was in no mood to receive visitors, most likely to petition the Medjai for help with one matter or another. His hand went reflexively to his face, the tip of one long finger rubbing the bridge of his nose to alleviate the pressure building behind his eyes. "They will have to continue to wait. I will see no one for the remainder of this day." His words sounded gruff, even to his ears, but he had not one ounce of charity left in him at the moment. It was not his wish to take his mood out on anyone, especially on someone seeking help, but he was mentally exhausted.
"Lâ twâkhidna, but I think you should see these people right away," Rami insisted.
"Do not presume to tell the Chieftain his business, my son," Hamid scolded tolerantly.
"SamaH ana, Abu," Rami quickly apologized. "I meant no disrespect, Chieftain Bay."
Ardeth nodded briefly. "All is well, Rami. Now, if you will excuse me..."
"I will see to it that you are not disturbed," Jubran pledged confidently.
"Shukran," Ardeth called over his shoulder. He spied his tent in the distance and looked forward to some uninterrupted sleep.
Jubran and Hamid bid Ardeth a good night, while Rami watched the retreating form of his Chieftain in silence. He hated to be the one to have to break the news to Najya that Ardeth had retired for the evening and refused to be disturbed. He would have to make arrangements for her to spend the night in his cousins' tent. Her escort, Kyle, could sleep in the guest quarters, along with Commander Masruq.
While his father remained behind to speak further to Jubran, Rami made his way back to his father's tent where Najya waited with Nida and Sabira. He was just about to enter when he heard soft feminine laughter. When he drew his large frame inside, he found his cousins huddled together, talking conspiratorially. Najya was nowhere to be seen.
"I have known you two long enough to know you have been up to no good," Rami admonished fondly. "Tell me now before you get yourselves into trouble." Both young women straightened to their full height and their chins jutted out determinedly. It was nearly enough to make him smile, but he did not show it.
"We have done nothing," Nida insisted, but broke into a giggle when she looked over at her sister.
"Nothing," Sabira echoed between giggles.
"Then where is the lady Najya?" he asked with an edge of impatience. It could be dangerous if she roamed the village unescorted. It was difficult to determine how those who opposed her presence in the Chieftain's life might react. Although the Medjai were noble people, their brand of justice was often swift and without remorse. It was often called "desert justice" and was needed when protecting ancient secrets and curses, such as He Who Shall Not Be Named.
"She is where she wishes to be," Nida returned. Her mood sobered at the look of concern on her cousin's face. "There is nothing to fear."
"Let me be the judge of that, cousins," he said, taking a step closer to them. Both women took a step toward him as though in defiance, but lowered their gaze hesitantly at his dark look.
Sabira raised her eyes and smiled brightly. Her actions were unexpected and caught Rami unaware and he found himself returning her smile. "What have you done?"
He asked his question in time with Marid and Kyle's entrance.
"What has who done?" Kyle asked flippantly, somehow expecting it to have been Najya, but she was not among those that Rami was speaking to.
"Najya wanted to help with the evening chores," Sabira explained slyly. "She helped us deliver food and fresh water to the Chieftain's tent."
Shrugging her shoulders, Nida sat in a small nearby wooden chair. "Oddly enough, we...misplaced her."
Sabira stared at her older sister, completely awed that she could retain a straight face. "Yes...mis...placed...her," she echoed amidst her laughter as Kyle and Marid moved farther into the room.
It was Kyle who caught her when she nearly collapsed from her bout with laughter. "I'm sure Ardeth will be grateful to have found your misplaced...treasure." He grinned boyishly. "You two are not as docile as the other maidens we came across while Marid showed me around the joint." he observed.
" 'Amm usually blames our mother's influence," Nida quipped.
Kyle noted the sadness that fell over the room at the mention of the sisters' mother. It didn't take a genius to figure out that a tragedy had befallen this family. "Well, it's a lovely influence, if you ask me," he insisted, looking down into the blue depths of Sabira's eyes.
Nida smiled at her sister when she joined her. "If one of you will find 'Amm, we can have dinner."
Marid reached down and cupped her chin in his large, but gentle, hand. "I will go. He will not be happy with what you two have been a part of, but I think, considering the circumstances, he will be lenient." With a tolerant smile, he turned and went in search of his father.
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Exhausted, mentally more than physically, Ardeth entered his tent with the sole intention of disrobing so he could crawl between the clean sheets of his comfortable pallet, embracing the sleep he had been craving. The startled gasp he heard upon stepping inside spurred his warrior instincts into gear and he unsheathed his scimitar with practiced ease.
"After all this time, you would greet me by gutting me?" Najya asked in amusement after getting over her initial shock at seeing him.
Rarely had she seen him in his more decorated Chieftain robes. His plain warrior robes had sufficed on most occasions, but she had to admit the midnight blue material and the exquisitely detailed white embroidery did emphasis his swarthy appearance. If possible, he was more handsome than she remembered. She was glad he had not bothered with the ghutrah, most likely because he was within the walls of the village. It gave her the chance to see his shoulder length silky black hair accentuate the outline of his face, and her desire to throw herself into his arms and wrap those dark locks around her fingers was becoming difficult to ignore. And his eyes...his brown eyes, so dark now they appeared black, had the power to bring her to her knees...his willing slave.
"I was not expecting you," he stated, completely dumbfounded. He had planned to travel to Giza to see her before going home to the First Tribe, but, by Allah, this was a pleasant surprise.
She couldn't help the lopsided grin that appeared on her face while he sheathed his sword. The sheepish look on his face gave him an almost boyish appearance, endearing him even further into her heart. She moved toward him slowly; upon reaching him, her palm slid up his chest to cup the nape of his neck. "I believe a better greeting is in order, my love."
A slow, sensuous smile curved his full lips as he gazed into her fathomless sapphire colored eyes. His hands plunged greedily into the thick fall of her lustrous black hair, gripping it firmly in his grasp. His eyes closed reflexively as he dipped his head. He felt the pressure from her hand at his neck pulling him closer, just as he did the same to her. He heard her soft gasp of pleasure and longing when his lips touched hers. After having been separated for far too long, their desire flashed into an instant inferno overtaking them both with its intensity. What had begun as a sweet caress soon developed into demanding need. The kiss deepened, tongues meeting, challenging the other to take their fill of the other knowing the need was too great to possibly ever be sated.
The necessity for air became paramount and drew Ardeth away from the sweet taste of Najya's mouth. He trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw line to nuzzle the silky skin of her neck. "I have come to dislike these separations more each time we are apart," he admitted huskily.
"Mmm...I do not like them either," she agreed, tilting her head to give him better access to her throat.
Already she felt her knees going weak and the throbbing ache that began to coil at her center. She groaned audibly when his hand trailed down her spine, pressing her tighter to his lean, muscular body. She could not mistake the evidence of his desire when it pressed against her lower abdomen and she found herself cursing the hindrance of clothing.
As if reading her mind, Ardeth's nimble fingers had already begun the task of pushing the cloak from her shoulders and quickly moved to the buttons of her blouse. It was not long before he moved on to her slacks.
Between hot, fervent kisses, Najya asked, "You are not hungry?"
Ardeth paused a moment, his eyes flashing with erotic intent as his gaze raked over her face. Her eyes were glazed with passion, her lips swollen from his kisses, and the last thing on his mind was food. "On the contrary, my sweet priestess, I am famished."
By this time, Ardeth had freed her of all but her underclothes. She, on the other hand, had only managed his sash, robes, and weapons. He stood before her in his tunic, pants, and boots and she pressed her body sensually against his, taking pleasure in his moan when she ground herself against his throbbing manhood through his clothing. "Then...we must feed the beast."
"Allah, give me strength," he growled as he lifted her into his arms. "You may be the death of me yet."
Najya wound her arms about his neck and kissed him softly, her teeth pulling gently on his bottom lip before releasing it. "I thought I already had been..."
"So you were," he agreed, placing her gently on the soft pallet. "And yet, you were also the reason I was brought back..."
He removed the remainder of her clothing and then quickly divested himself of his own. His hungry gaze took in every inch of her luscious womanly curves before returning to her face only to discover she had been doing her own assessment of his body. Her sapphire eyes had darkened considerably, telling him she approved of what she saw. Her welcoming arms, enveloping him in her heated embrace, assured him of the love and pleasure they would share in hours that followed.
Najya moaned with need as Ardeth ran one hand up her leg, over her hip, reacquainting himself with her body. When he cupped a breast in his large hand, her body arched upward, pressing her into his palm. She was greedy for his touch, and just as insatiably, her hands explored the male planes, angles, and sinewy muscles of his spectacular physique.
With their joining came the forgetfulness of any problem that haunted their lives. There was only man and woman...two becoming one. White hot passion fueled their motions to an exquisite pace, bringing the two to a peak of incredible heights. And when neither could hold back, when it was beyond them to hold off the inevitable, they plummeted over the edge together, swimming in the blissful feelings that rocketed within and throughout their bodies. As they collapsed together, aware of only the presence of the other, they once again declared their love for one another, reveling in the rightness of their union.
--
yâ ra'îs -- my chief
aiwa -- yes
lâ twâkhidna -- excuse me.
SamaH ana, Abu -- forgive me, father
'Amm—uncle.
Shukran -- thank you
Allah - God.
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Lariat of Power – Chapter 6