Chapter Eight
Without a word and heads bowed, three solemn warriors left the Council chambers. After having such devastating news delivered, no one had the heart to carry on with the meeting. Hamid dismissed the Council, requesting it to reconvene after the attack against the caravan had been investigated. No protests were made to this request, not even from Ghazi. Duty to the tribes came first, and Ardeth was now focused on the recent murders.
All occupants of the tent filed out behind Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir. As the crowd disbursed, Ardeth stood behind Najya and Kyle; each of them watching in silence as the three warriors walked off alone. Neither Najya nor Kyle understood the ramifications of the message, but it was obvious Saeedah was someone very close to the three men.
"This is...unconscionable," Najya said, turning to face Ardeth when she felt the comforting weight of his hand on her shoulder. The grief of those within the tent had been immeasurable and it had taken all her strength to keep their emotions from crushing her. At times like this she despised her gifts, but at the moment, she wished for nothing more than to be held by Ardeth and allow his warmth to soothe her troubled soul.
Looking into his sorrow filled brown eyes, she could read that he wished it as well, but it was unacceptable to display affection in public. There might come a time when it was not such an issue, but with her status within the tribes, that time had far from arrived. Instead, she took comfort in what contact they could share.
"It is," he agreed, his eyes searching hers and seeing his feelings mirrored within the beautiful sapphire of her eyes. It bolstered his spirit having her near at a time like this. "There is much to be done, yâ maHabbi."
"If you'll excuse me," Kyle began, clearing his throat. "I'll just leave you two alone to talk."
Ardeth gave him a nod of thanks. "Perhaps you could go by Hamid's tent? The bnât knew Saeedah quite well. They will be in need of comfort and strength..."
Kyle stared at Ardeth for a moment. Did he know? Could he? Kyle was unsure himself, and yet, from the moment he had looked into Sabira's unusual blue eyes, he had not been able to stop thinking about her. "I will do what I can."
"Shukran."
"Who is...was Saeedah, Ardeth?" Najya asked after Kyle left and they began walking through the village with no discernable destination in mind.
Ardeth sighed and dropped his hand from her shoulder. His soul immediately cried out at the lack of contact. "Saeedah was Hadad's older sister...and Jubran's wife. Subsequently, because he is as a brother to Hadad and Jubran, Saeedah was as close to Qadir as a sister."
Najya bowed her head in reverence. "Oh Ardeth...I am very sorry for their loss." There were never the right words in situations such as this.
"I know you are, maHbûb." He tenderly touched his hand to the small of her back, stopping their progress for a moment while a group of children ran past. When they had gone, his hand dropped and they resumed their walk. Soon he would leave her to investigate the murders and show his support for the Eighth Tribe during this difficult time. The thought of parting from her saddened him, for it had been his hope that from this day forward Najya would be part of his daily life. "Your support is most welcome, but for now, Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir must grieve alone. Upon their return, we must travel to the Eighth Tribe."
We must travel. The words echoed in her mind. Would he require her to go along? How would he react to what she had yet to tell him? She turned her head to look at his handsome profile as they walked. It would be difficult to refuse him. Was her need for her mother's journals more important than his wishes? She longed to learn more about her mother and their shared connection to the Goddess Isis, but deep down she knew that if Ardeth wished her to delay her search, she would do as he asked.
The morning hour grew late and with it the sun's rays intensified. Ardeth reached behind Najya and drew the hood of her cloak up to protect her head. He returned her grateful smile, realizing both of theirs were tinged with the sadness of the day. Reaching into the folds of his robes, he removed his ghutrah from its hiding place. With expertise, he positioned it on his head and wound it into place, allowing the length of the face covering to drape loosely about his neck.
As they walked, Najya observed the people milling about. Their reaction to her was much the same as the previous day. She was greeted with curious stares or blatant hostility. Although she felt it was unfair to judge her for not being born Medjai, she could understand their position. Determined she would face them proudly, she answered their stares, whether friendly or otherwise, with a warm smile, showing none of the inner fears she harbored.
Ardeth halted their progress when they came to the stables. In the corral, several warriors worked with their horses. They used loud cries and startling noises, waving sticks and cloths close to the horses' eyes in an attempt to get them used to anything that might panic them during battle. No warrior could afford to be left at a disadvantage due to an easily spooked animal.
After several silent moments of watching the exercises, Ardeth guided Najya inside the stable. Upon entering, they were welcomed by several young men who worked the stables. Ardeth quickly introduced Najya and after pleasantries were exchanged, he ordered them to ready the horses for travel to the Eighth Tribe that afternoon.
Nodding their understanding, the men scurried away to do his bidding. The horses of the Chieftain, the three warriors from the Eighth Tribe and the newcomers would be ready when the time came.
Najya walked to the stall that sheltered her mare and gently stroked her muzzle. Ardeth had given her to Najya as a gift shortly after their return from Philae. She was black as midnight save the patch of white between her eyes that was peculiarly shaped like a star. Najya immediately fell in love with her and called her Midnight Star. "How are you, Star?" she asked quietly and received a contented nudge against her hand. "We will leave soon, my friend. Would you like to ride?" Najya chuckled when Star bobbed her head and issued an insistent whinny.
"It is good to see the connection between you and your animal," Ardeth commented, stepping up behind her. He drew in a sharp breath when she leaned back against him, resting the back of her head against his shoulder. The light scent of jasmine wafted into his nostrils and he breathed it in, closing his eyes while he enjoyed the sweet scent of her hair.
"Thank you again for giving her to me," she acknowledged gratefully.
"The pleasure was all mine," he assured her. Reflexively, his hands went to her hips and rested there. Mindful of the others present in the stables, he was reluctant to follow the call of his heart and pull her into his arms. It was more than physical contact or sexual desire. He could never fully explain this to anyone, least of all an unbending Council, but he felt nourished by Najya. She fed his soul and gave him strength he had never known before.
"Ardeth, what will happen now?"
"First we will go to the attack site," he began.
"That will be difficult for those closest to Saeedah," she asserted.
"Aiwa," he agreed. "They are warriors and conditioned to the harsh realities. They will endure and turn their grief inward until such a time it can be unleashed onto those who deserve it."
"Then, you will pursue the attackers?"
"That is the plan," he stated calmly. "We will gather what knowledge we can from the site, and by speaking to those at the Eighth Tribe who discovered the atrocity. We will then go on the hunt."
His voice was lifeless, unfeeling, and Najya gave an involuntary shudder despite the warmth of the climate and the heat radiating from the man behind her. He lived by the code; desert justice, swift and without regard. Protect the innocent, the secrets of the Pharaohs, the sands of
"What of me, my love? Would you take me with you?"
Ardeth backed away and turned her to face him. He could easily see she was unused to hearing him speak so callously, but he also knew she understood and accepted. "Lâ," he protested. "I would not have you party to such a deed." When it looked as though she might argue with him, he shook his head, cutting off her words. "I know you are capable of handling yourself in a fight..."
Najya raised a hand to stop him. "I do not wish to go with you." She raised the hood over her head. "Might we go back to the tent of Elder Mu'afa, please?"
Unsure as to why she changed the subject so abruptly, he then realized it was because activity in the stable had ceased and they had become the center of attention. "Very well," he answered. After he escorted her outside, he resumed their conversation. "You have something to say?"
"Yes. It is not that I do not wish to accompany you to the Eighth Tribe..."
"What is on your mind, Najya?" he asked as they began the trek to Hamid's tent.
"I wish to return to Cairo. I must see my uncle..." she trailed off when she noticed Ardeth's eyebrow arch in disbelief.
"Why would you wish to see the man who tormented you for so many years?" he questioned skeptically.
"I do not wish to see him, specifically, but I believe my mother left several other journals." She lightly placed a hand on Ardeth's arm when he stopped and turned to her. "I must find them."
He searched her face for a moment, reading her earnest expression. He could understand her need; the journals were all she had left. She had not received a visitation from her mother since their excursion at Philae and Najya was growing more forlorn about her loss as each day passed. "Zariah has not deserted you, yâ maliki. You will see her again."
A weary smile formed on Najya's lips. "There is no way to be sure, and all I have left of her is one journal that I stumbled upon. I know now there are more since finding the journal was numbered. I know Ackmed has them, and I must retrieve them."
He waved an arm resuming their walk. "Wait until I return and I will take you to your uncle."
"You have enough to worry about, Ardeth. Kyle can go with me." She sighed knowing he would not understand. "The honest truth? I have no desire to wait."
He stopped outside the tent. The flaps were open to allow any breeze from the Oasis to cool the interior and the sobs from inside were easily heard. He did not wish to take this conversation inside with them. He was not angry with Najya or her wish to leave for Cairo, but he did not want to burden his friends during their time of grief with his personal battles.
Instead, he stood gazing down into Najya's turbulent sapphire eyes and knew he must let her go her own way. He had known from the moment he had met her that she had her own mind, and it was one of the things about her he had fallen in love with. It was hypocritical of him to expect her to go against her nature for him. She would not expect that of him. "I will not stand in your way," he finally responded.
She nodded solemnly. She knew he was not happy with his decision, but it warmed her soul to know he respected her wishes enough not to fight her on this. "Thank you."
He ushered her inside the tent with one hand lightly touching the small of her back. "We will escort you and Kyle as far as we can before turning off to the Eighth Tribe."
Once inside the tent, they turned their attention to those within and the conversation that had just taken place was forgotten as the reality of loss was so evident around them. Hamid beckoned them to join him. Rami and Marid sat with Nida between them, each holding one of her hands, speaking soft words of comfort to her. Much to Najya's astonishment, Sabira was being held in the consoling arms of Kyle. When she turned questioning eyes onto Ardeth and Hamid, they merely nodded. It warmed her heart knowing that this family accepted her best friend so readily.
"Kyle?" Sabira question, lifting mournful eyes up to see his face. "You are leaving?"
Kyle looked at Najya and saw her brief nod. She had finally spoken to Ardeth about her journey to Cairo. "It appears so."
"Will you return?"
"As soon as I possibly can," he assured as he brushed an errant lock of hair from her cheek.
Najya smiled at Sabira, who was so obviously enchanted by Kyle. It would not be easy for them, but she knew Kyle and he was a strong, determined man. He would do anything and everything he had to do to win Sabira's hand.
Before anything further could be discussed, the sound of someone quietly clearing their throat was heard from the entrance and all eyes turned in that direction.
"I...do not wish to intrude," Sidrah's soft voice floated into the room. She nervously shifted her feet while she waited for someone to acknowledge her. Seeing the Chieftain alongside the woman he loved started a panic to rise inside her. She had seen him on few occasions and he still made her edgy.
"Come in, child," Hamid urged.
"Shukran, Honored Elder," she responded, moving into the room. "I wished to offer my condolences," she explained. She and the sisters were friends, and she was aware of their relationship with Saeedah.
"That is very kind of you, child," Hamid acknowledged. "You know my family and the Chieftain, but allow me to introduce you to Kyle Shearer." Hamid paused while Kyle released his hold on Sabira to stand and greet Sidrah. "And this is Najya Zaghloul."
Najya reached for the girl's hand and held it steadily as their eyes met. Something flashed within Sidrah's, but anything she was feeling was elusive to Najya and she held back the impulse to dig into the girl's mind.
"Najya, this is Sidrah Khashshab."
The significance of her name was not lost on Najya. The young woman was the one the Council had decided Ardeth should marry.
Silence echoed within the walls of the tent as the two women sized each other up.
--
yâ maHabbi -- my love
bnât -- girls
Shukran – thank you.
maHbûb – dear
Aiwa -- yes
Lâ -- no
yâ maliki -- my queen
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lariat of Power – Chapter 9 (coming soon)