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"You are weary; you should rest," Najat remarked, kneeling on the floor in front Alex.
Focused on the Medjai sleeping soundly in the seat next to him, Alex didn't bother to answer. He was certain he'd never seen anyone so pale or so still, except, perhaps when his mum... "No, don't think about that," he whispered to himself. "Ardeth isn't dead; he's just sleeping."
"Of course he is only sleeping."
Unaware that he'd spoken aloud, Najat's response startled Alex. Regaining his voice, he replied, "yes, ma'am."
Alex continued to stare at her, wanting to ask if Ardeth was getting better, and have Najat say that he was. But he knew she wouldn't - because Ardeth wasn't getting better. Sighing, Alex turned his head toward the Medjai, reluctant to look away again, even when he felt a gentle hand wrap around his leg and hold it in place, as a soft touch tended his scrapes.
"Do not grieve for him yet, child," Najat whispered, seeing the sadness in his face. "You cannot be certain of what the future will bring."
Alex hesitantly turned to face her, again. His chin quivering, he responded, tearfully.
"He's so sick."
"Yes. He is very ill," Najat replied, matter-of-factly. Surprised by her bluntness, Alex stared at her, aghast.
"You would have me deny what you already know to be truth?" She asked, rhetorically, glancing up, briefly, as she switched knees. Alex shrugged and turned his head toward Ardeth again. He'd known she wouldn't lie, but had expected something more soothing than that.
"He's too sick."
Najat barely heard the child's soft whisper.
"And who decides this?" she queried. Looking at her, Alex shrugged again.
"He's just so weak." To his surprise surprised, Alex heard the Abadi chuckle.
"I would not allow Ardeth Bey to hear you call him weak."
Alex made a face. "You know what I mean!"
"Yes, child," Najat admitted. "He is weary - both in body and soul."
"What do you mean?" Alex asked. His brow furrowing, he puzzled over the words she'd chosen. Silently, Najat reached for his scraped hand, but Alex pulled it away. "Najat?"
"I mean just as I have said," she stated, patiently. "The toll of his recent battle weighs heavily on both his body and his soul; perhaps the weight is too much for Ardeth Bey to continue to carry."
Alex's lip trembled as he grasped that the battle she referred to was against the Army of Anubis. It had been fought because he'd put on the bracelet and led the way to Ahm Shere...but everything had turned out all right. At least, that was what he'd told himself as he waved farewell to Ardeth from Izzy's balloon. It had been easy to ignore the Medjai's tattered clothing and the streaks of blood and dirt, because Ardeth had obviously survived - so no more thought had been given to it. Ardeth had risked everything to save him; then, they'd just floated away and left him without even wondering what had happened outside the pyramid. Turning his head to watch Ardeth sleep, tears welled in his eyes as he grasped that everything had not turned out all right - not for the Medjai.
"He is too sick, isn't he? Too tired?"
"Do not grieve yet, Alex O'Connell," Najat soothed, as tears trickled onto the child's cheeks. He didn't resist a second time as she reached for his injured hand and gently tended it. "Strength surrounds him, he need only accept it."
Unable to figure out what she meant, Alex's brow furrowed, again. Between the steady vibration of the plane and Najat's soothing voice, his eyes were finding it hard to stay open, so he closed them while he thought it over, and slowly drifted to sleep.
Jonathan quickly closed eyes as Najat stood and walked past his seat. The volume of the conversation had been kept low enough to make it clear she'd intended it for his nephew's ears only, so he didn't want her to realize he'd listened. Jonathan knew there was more to it than embarrassment, however. He had heard something in her tone...something he could pin down exactly, but it made him nervous. He wanted time to figure it out before talking to her again.
~*~*~*~*~
Growing weary of the scenery, Evy turned away from the window and fondly studied her sleeping husband. She knew it was his way of escaping the frustrated, helpless feeling gnawing at both of them as the Clipper crawled toward Cairo, hours behind the plane carrying Ardeth and their son. Evy dearly long to escape into oblivion as well, but her brain wouldn't stop spinning long enough to let her. Stretching, she decided to try distracting herself and pulled the journal from her bag. It didn't take long to find her spot, but instead of starting the next entry, Evy felt a sudden urge to reread what she read earlier that morning. So much had happened in the few hours in between, those peaceful moments in the kitchen seemed like a dream. She wanted to be certain they hadn't been.
"Allah be praised! Ardeth's fever has broken at last. It happened very late in the night, just as it seemed death had finally, mercifully, arrived to claim him. He'd struggled for so many hours, there seemed no strength left, of body or will, and then he'd grown so still, even Fathi was certain that Ardeth has passed. He could not bring himself to reach out to him, for fear of confirming it. Neither could I. But dear, steady Badi'a did. I could hardly believe her words when she said he still lived and his fever had relented. Ardeth has not awoken, but it matters not. Once again, we dare hope. It is a great gift from Allah."
Evy unconsciously sighed with relief. Even a second time, the words seemed almost magical - as though it were her Ardeth it spoke of, and he couldn't die, because the journal said he didn't. She knew it was silly, but some of the tension released from her muscles, all the same. Settling back, a smile graced Evy's lips as she continued on to the next passage.
"Allah be merciful, I no longer know what to pray. It seemed a great gift had been given us when Ardeth's fever finally broke, but that fever has so devastated his body that I dare not assume my nephew can recover. That he will continue to live is not even certain. And I know not whether to pray that for his life or pray that Allah mercifully allows his soul to join his family in Paradise. Fathi speaks as though his brother were likely to bound up from his bed at any moment, and Badi'a, always so steady, is adamant in her belief that Ardeth will recover, but Dabir - oh, my brother! - will not even enter the tent. Instead, he continually rides with the patrols, almost refusing to even show his face in camp. It is clear that he grieves for his heir as though the fever had claimed him, as we all believed it would. Perhaps it yet will....
Ardeth has not woken for more than a few precious minutes at a time and seems hardly aware of anything even then. Perhaps Allah is merciful in this, for I cannot be certain that he knows of Dabir's absence. I know it would grieve my nephew to know of it, for he and Dabir have always enjoyed a great closeness. But for the moment, it likely matters not as I am certain that he could not see his father were he here. Badi'a behaves as though she has not noticed, but Fathi has. I clearly saw the fear in his eyes when Ardeth first awoke, even greater fear than when it seemed certain his brother breathed his last breaths. There is no light in Ardeth's eyes. No sign of any kind that they see anything at all. Nor am I certain that he hears us, for he reacts not at all to our voices. Badi'a will not speak of it. Fathi speaks only in jests, taunting his brother for his laziness, but there is fear in his voice. It is the same fear that dwells in my heart. The fear that Ardeth's soul clung so desperately to body that is too devastated to serve him any longer. What life will there be for him?”
Evy didn't realize she was trembling until the tears trickled onto her cheeks. She raised a shaky hand to wipe them away. Taking a deep, hiccuppy breath to steady herself, she closed her eyes, then the journal, and let her head rest against Rick's shoulder. Her mind couldn't even fathom that her Ardeth could ever be as physically weak as the words described, but her heart grieved for the journal Ardeth. She didn't even bother to tell herself she shouldn't. The words had caught her too unprepared to react any other way. Evy'd been so certain it was over - that the journal Ardeth had recovered, and so her Ardeth would recover. It was all over! But it wasn't. Spent by the surge of emotion and seeking comfort, Evy snuggled into her husband and let herself drift off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Ardeth dug his fingers into his palms in an attempt to ride out a particularly bad stretch of turbulence. He'd have groaned if the pain from the first bounce hadn't robbed him of breath. Struggling for short, desperate gasps of air, the Medjai settled for biting his lip, until the bouncing mercifully stopped, and he could get enough of a breath make the sound. He then repeated it as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his fists in an attempt to fight off the nausea that followed. It slowly rose up his throat despite his efforts, and he realized it was a losing the battle.
"You must try to relax; it will ease if you do."
Ardeth barely heard Najat's whisper as a wondrously cool cloth chased away the nausea, and the unbearable flush of heat that had risen with it. Tension seeped away from his body as the gentle caress worked its way down his neck and to the upper part of his chest. Lulled almost back to sleep, the Medjai nearly groaned as the cloth suddenly pulled away. He forced his reluctant eyelids open, but Najat wasn't there, and he wondered if it had been a dream. To be certain, he turned his head slightly to look for her, but let it drop back against the seat as the dizziness came swirling back. Less severe than before, it was still enough to make the Medjai reluctant to move again, but his neck was twisted awkwardly, making it necessary to shift, at least a little. Ardeth took a deep breath and bit his lip as he tried not to move his head while he very carefully shifted his shoulders nearer into alignment with his neck. Unintentionally angling himself toward Alex, he watched the child sleeping soundly, amazed that the turbulence hadn't woken him.
"He guarded you very valiantly before sleep claimed him."
Engulfed within a thickening haze, it seemed to Ardeth that Najat appeared out of nowhere, and he flinched. She frowned as the movement provoked a soft hiss.
"My apologies..."
Ardeth weakly waved away her concern, although he didn't quite manage to lift his hand out of his lap.
"May I place this beneath your robe?" Najat inquired, nonchalantly.
Ardeth noticed the ice pack in her hand and nodded, slightly. He had to bite his lip to keep from hissing as it pressed against his wound, but he dutifully draped a weak hand across it to keep it in place, more or less. Wearily closing his eyes, Ardeth noticed a familiar scent wafting within reach of his senses. The aroma brought a slight smile to the Medjai's lips, and he opened his to see Najat holding a cup. His smile broadened. He'd forgotten the Abadi had with them the means to lessen his misery.
Beneath her burqa, Najat frowned at the fog she saw in his eyes, worrying that the Medjai was fading too quickly. She knew there was little more she could do than ease his pain. The infection had grown too strong for the medicines she had brought with her, making it Ardeth's battle to fight alone. Still, Najat hoped she could at least provide him with an easier sleep - as much as possible seated in the bumpy, uncomfortable craft. Kneeling, she didn't waste time formally asking his permission before bringing the mixture of herbs to his lips. His eyes were already drooping closed as she pulled the cup away.
"Sleep well, my friend," Najat whispered, silently backing away.
Already feeling the effect of the medicine spreading throughout his miserable body, Ardeth smiled at the slip in her formal demeanor and sleepily replied.
"Thank...you...Na...jat."
Najat smiled. She was uncertain what he was thanking her for, but it didn't really matter. Creeping away, she softly prayed the Medjai would have the strength to accomplish his task.
~*~*~*~*~
Evy jolted awake as the plane hit a bad stretch of turbulence. Glancing at her husband, she saw him stir, then settle back to sleep with an ease that made her shake her head, disbelievingly. Sighing, Evy stretched her cramped muscles, sending the journal tumbling from her lap onto the floor. It sparked a flood of emotion that left her trembling as she remembered what she'd read. It made her hesitate briefly, before reaching down to pick up the book. Closing her eyes for a moment, Evy whispered to herself that she might as well read more; it couldn't possible get any worse. After all, even if the journal Ardeth died, he was in such misery that it would almost be a blessing. Flicking the silly thought away with a quick shake of her head, Evy opened her eyes and chuckled at herself. The journal Ardeth couldn't die...because her Ardeth didn't die.
"Keep your wits about you, Evelyn. This is no time to let your imagination get the better of you," she softly chided herself. Shaking her head disapprovingly, Evy flipped open the journal. It surprised her a little to see the next entry dated nearly two weeks after the last one.
“Thanks be to Allah, my nephew begins to improve. The past few days, Ardeth has woken for several hours at a time. There is still no light in his eyes, but he responds now to our voices, although he still does not speak. Whether it is because he lacks the ability or the will, I do not know. He is still too weak to do more than lie in his bed. Perhaps we will hear his voice again after more of his strength has returned. It is my fear, however, that it is his will that is lacking. My brother still will not see his son, and I am certain now that Ardeth is aware of his father's absence. I see despair in his face each time his bed is approached and it is not Dabir that speaks, but he puts on a brave face for Badi'a and Fathi.
Their father's absence has not diminished Badi'a and Fathi's devotion to their brother. Of this, I am certain. Many times each day they exercise his arms and legs for him, in the hope it will help them grow stronger. Ardeth seems to find some pleasure is this exercise, but perhaps it is only a mask he wears for them. I have noticed my nephew appears very downcast once they are finished and he believes they have left his side. Perhaps, his expression of pleasure is genuine, but it is the company of his brother and sister, and not the activity that pleases him. These past two days, I have noticed he increasingly responds to their presence. It gives my heart hope that he might yet recover.”
The page ended, and Evy nearly screamed from the anticipation as she eagerly flipped to the next. Her eyes skimmed over the date without really registering it. It didn't really matter any more. She only cared how the story played out, not how long it took to do it. Oblivious to anything else, Evy continued.
“My heart grows lighter each day as Ardeth continues to improve. He remains confined to his bed and still does not appear to see, nor does he speak, but each day more of my nephew's will returns. I know this because Ardeth makes it known to us. He answers yes or no with his head when he is being tended to, and often make faces that express astonishingly well what he cannot speak. It do not believe that Badi'a draws as much pleasure from this as Fathi and I. It seems a great irritation to my niece that he shakes his head 'no' much more than he nods 'yes' and gives her quite unmistakable looks of displeasure when she does not heed. Badi'a chides him often for being difficult, and this is when I can most believe my nephew will once again be as he was - for when Badi'a curses him, it always brings a smirk to his lips. It is with this simple expression that I am no longer able to doubt my nephew returns to us, although it is with painful slowness.”
Evy paused, trying to imagine Ardeth communicating only with expressions. The attempt made her chuckle softly. It was difficult to imagine the stoic Medjai anyway other than just that - stoic. Continuing to read, Evy pondered that she would have enjoyed meeting the journal Ardeth. He seemed like quite the amazing individual.
“Although I, myself, was never afflicted, I was struck today by how much the fever has altered me. It was a little thing that brought about this realization. Today, Ardeth sat up. It doesn't not seem like I great thing as I write it here. Indeed, Badi'a often sits him up when he is awake. But today, Ardeth sat himself up and would not allow Badi'a to lay him back down for nearly the entire day. Although his stubbornness greatly vexed his sister, the momentous event brought enormous joy to both myself and Fathi. It seems odd that such a small thing could bring so much happiness. I do not believe I would always have appreciated so little a sign of progress, but the fever has opened my eyes to the enormity of even small gains.
It pains me that the joy of the day was marred not only by Dabir's continued neglect, but increasingly Fathi's. Ardeth still does not see, a condition I fear we must learn to accept.”
Caught unprepared, Evy had to paused. The possibility that the journal Ardeth wouldn't get his sight back had never occurred to her. Closing her eyes, she remembered her Ardeth - in their parlor not so long ago, his scimitar flying as he fought her attackers. Evy found it impossible to picture her Ardeth blind. Shaking away the image, she opened her eyes and began the paragraph again.
“It pains me that the joy of the day was marred not only by Dabir's continued neglect, but increasingly Fathi's. Ardeth still does not see, a condition I fear we must learn to accept. Despite this, his seeming awareness of all around him often astonishes me. As does his ever increasing ability to express this awareness without words. He has not spoken, yet, but I clearly see a difference in him as Fathi's visits grow less frequent. His brother's playful teasing greatly lifted Ardeth's spirits. But more than this, I believe it is the reason for his brother's absence that discourages Ardeth. None of us have spoken of it, and yet the distress is so clearly visible each time Fathi departs that I have little doubt Ardeth knows his younger brother has taken on the duties of the eldest son. My nephew shows no resentment towards Fathi. In fact, Ardeth is so adept at hiding his distress, I do not believe Fathi sees the change in him. However, Badi'a sees it, as do I. I pray this discouragement will not slow his recovery, but I fear it already does, for I sense growing resignation within him.”
Evy shook her head, softly cursing Dabir. His treatment of the journal Ardeth seemed cruel to her. Too angry to read on, Evy sat the journal in her lap and curled up against her husband for another nap.
~*~*~*~*~
Alex jerked awake. Disoriented, his gaze roamed until it landed on Najat, kneeling in front of Ardeth's seat. Settling back, he watched her bathe the sweat from the sleeping Medjai and noticed, glumly, that Ardeth looked even worse. He was still pale, but beneath it, his skin seemed to glow with an increasing flush - making the Medjai look almost unnatural. The thought made Alex shudder.
"Ah, Alex," Najat greeted, softly, the child's shiver drawing her attention briefly away from Ardeth. "It is good you are awake. I believe Johari is greatly in need of rescue."
Alex tossed her a skeptical glance. The imposing Abadi warrior didn't seem the sort to ever need rescuing, especially by an eight year old. Amused by his bewilderment, Najat smiled and continued.
"You're uncle awoke some time ago and decided to pass the time with cards. With you asleep, he had little choice but to play with Johari. This is not a common pastime among the Abadi; I fear your uncle grows eager for a more skilled partner."
Alex twisted around and glanced toward Jonathan. Grinning, the child watched his obviously frustrated uncle attempting to explain some rule or another to an obviously bewildered Johari. Chuckling as he hopped from his seat, Alex wandered back to where the two men sat.
Najat smiled as she watched Alex go. She knew Johari would appreciate the opportunity to escape the Englishmen. But more importantly, Jonathan would be able to distract his nephew from Ardeth's worsening condition.
~*~*~*~*~
Evy's heart jumped into her throat as she glanced around the familiar camp. One tent in particular pulled at her with magnetic force. She didn't want to look, but found she had no choice. Her head was turning, her eyes were opening, she was looking, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. A scream of frustration rose up her throat as she felt her feet moving her forward. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO GO IN! She didn't want to see him die, again, or see him blind and helpless, or see the horrible anguish that had been on his face when he'd held the dead child in his arms - but her hand was reaching forward to push aside the tent flap. She was going in....looking around....seeing Ardeth....he was.....
Evy nearly jolted out of her seat as a hand touched her, waking her from her nightmare. Her eyes flying open, she started at the sight of an Abadi women crouched in front of her, gesturing for quiet. Disoriented, Evy's brow furrowed, and the woman gestured toward Rick, still sleeping peacefully in the neighboring seat. Evy nodded and closed her eyes. Settling back against headrest, she tried to force away the tension leftover from the nightmare.
"Are you all right?" the woman asked, in a soft whisper.
"Zaynab?" Evy questioned, opening her eyes again.
The Abadi ducked her head in a slight bow. "Yes, it is I."
"Um, yes. I'm fine," Evy smiled appreciatively the Abadi. "I was...it was just an unpleasant dream."
"You wish to speak of it?" Zaynab inquired, supportively.
"No. It was silly," Evy answered, shaking her head. "I'm fine, really."
Zaynab nodded and, hesitantly, returned to her seat across the aisle. Noticing the Abadi continued glancing her direction, Evy smiled, reassuringly, then, reached into her lap for the journal. Flipping it opened, she skimmed to where she'd left off. There was a new date, telling her time has passed between entries, but Evy'd long since stopped keeping track of the days. Ignoring it, she read on.
"I know not how to react. It seems just as I have come to accept that Ardeth's sight would not return; there are signs that it does. Badi'a noticed before I, during one of their many short walks together. I was not easily convinced of the truth of it, for there is but the slightest change in my nephew's behavior. But as I walked with them this afternoon, I saw subtle signs that he again perceives at least light and motion. To eliminate any doubt, I asked my nephew, and Ardeth confirmed with the slightest of nods that is the case. I do not understand why he made no attempt to communicate this good news to us. Perhaps it is because the gain is so slight and his discouragement so great, that he cannot see the enormity of his progress. I pray to Allah for guidance in choosing the right words of council to raise his spirits."
Torn between anger at Dabir and relief in the journal Ardeth's improvement, Evy trembled, slightly. Closing her eyes, she took a couple deep breaths to settle herself. About to open them again, Evy hesitated. Everything was still so uncertain; she felt reluctant to risk reading more, at least for the moment. It seemed that every time the situation appeared to be improving, the next entry sent it spiraling downward again.
Closing the journal, Evy decided to enjoy the good news for bit, before discovering what new hardship awaited the journal Ardeth. Tucking the journal away, she glanced around for something else with which to occupy her time. Her eyes fell on Zaynab, quietly writing...something; Evy couldn't tell what. Lazily watching the Abadi, a sudden realization struck her and flew out her mouth before she could stop it.
"Zaynab, I've noticed that you seem to speak for your people; I would've expected Muhannad or ...that other fellow to do so."
"He is Samih," the Abadi politely informed her.
"Samih, then. Its normal among your people for the women to speak, instead of the men?" Evy prompted.
"Yes, this is the way of the Abadi."
"Why....um, I mean, how....," Evy stammered, not quite able to form her question.
"The Abadi are a matriarchal tribe," Zaynab explained, patiently.
"A matriarchy?!" Evy's brow furrowed. The Abadi nodded. "That's rather unusual amongst desert people, isn't it?"
"Perhaps," Zaynab replied, noncommittally, and attempted to return to her writing. However, she could feel the Englishwoman staring curiously at her and, sighing, realized she would have to explain. Najat had instructed that the O'Connells not be told of the weapons' curse, unless no other alternative could be found, so Zaynab hoped the short version of the story would satisfy Evy.
"My people have not always been thus."
"Oh...." Sensing an imminent story, Evy turned sideway in her seat and made herself comfortable.
"In ancient times, my people were as most of the tribes of the desert. It was so until the time of the Devourer."
"The Devourer?" Evy echoed, intrigued. "He sounds like an unpleasant sort of fellow."
"Indeed," Zaynab replied, with a soft chuckle. "He was a very 'unpleasant fellow' from a far away land that sought to conquer the many tribes of the desert. To accomplish his task, he brought with him two weapons blessed with the power of his gods: a broadsword and a dagger."
"A broadsword and a dagger?" Evy echoed, a nervous knot tying itself in her stomach. Zaynab simply nodded and continued on.
"The power of these weapons allowed the 'fellow' to devour the soul of each victim he killed with them, and with each soul, he grew more powerful."
"Hence...the Devourer," Evy interrupted. Zaynab nodded, politely.
"It was not long before no army could stand against him. The Devourer swept across the land claiming the wealth of the tribes he encountered, as well as, women to satisfy his bodily desires. However, this could have been endured were it not for the many human sacrifices he required. For he always desired more souls upon which to feed. Many tribes fled deeper into the desert, but one young king would not see the land of his ancestors stolen from his people. Nor, as many of his people were among the Devourer's victims, could he allow the souls of those devoured to forever be denied their place in Paradise. Determined to stop the Devourer, the king turned to his priests, who told him he must inflict a mortal wound upon the Devourer, with the Devourer's own weapons."
"But if the Devourer couldn't be defeated, how was he to get the weapons?" Evy quizzed, impatiently. Engrossed in the tale, the nervous knot in her stomach dissipated.
"To separate the man from his weapons, the king sent to the Devourer, as a gift, his sister, for she was exceedingly beautiful," Zaynab answered.
"He gave him his sister?!"
"Indeed," Zaynab confirmed.
"B...but," Evy stammered, appalled.
"It was not without great consideration that the king did this. No way other way could be found to get near enough to do what had to be done, for the Devourer would not think a woman to be a threat to one so powerful," the Abadi assured. Evy nodded, although she continued to frown. "The priest provided the princess powerful herbs which would make the Devourer sleep for many hours, although they would have killed all other men."
"So the princess slips it into his drink or something before he has his way with her," Evy speculated. Zaynab nodded.
"As his emissary delivered his gift, the young king of the Abadi disguised himself as one of Devourer's warriors and entered the camp unnoticed. Once the Devourer slept, the princess admitted the king into the tent. Claiming the weapons, the young king pierced the heart of the Devourer, killing him. Their task accomplished, brother and sister secreted away, weapons in hand. The Devourer's army awoke in the morning to find their leader dead, but they had little time to mourn their general, for king, wielding the weapons, had returned with his army. The warriors of the Devourer knew of the weapons' power and fled in terror."
"But what about the weapons' power? Wouldn't the king have devoured the Devourer's soul?" Evy questioned, her brow furrowing.
"Indeed. And with it, all the souls that the Devourer had taken," Zaynab clarified.
"So he did devour it."
"Yes, to his great misfortune," the Abadi confirmed. "For once allowed to a drink of the sweet nectar of power, it is difficult to resist the temptation to drink again."
Evy raised a bemused eyebrow.
"You see, the power of the devoured souls coursed through the young king. Having tasted of it, he found he craved more. Yielding to temptation, he executed the many captured warriors of the Devourer with the weapons, claiming their souls. His own soul corrupted, the young king sought ever more souls to feed upon."
"So the people are back where they'd started," Evy quipped.
"Sadly, that is correct."
"So, who stopped the king?" Evy quizzed, certain that someone must have.
"His sister turned to the priest, seeking a way to stop her brother. She was given the same advice the king had received. Her heart filled with grief, she carried out what had to be, wielding the weapons in her own hands."
"But wait," Evy interrupted. "Would that just start it all over again?"
"Indeed, as the young king died in her arms, the power of all the devoured souls coursed through her. Frightened that she would become as he was, the princess mortally wounded herself with the Devourer's dagger."
"Ah, by killing herself, no one else could absorb the souls," Evy presumed.
"This was the plan, yes," Zaynab responded. "But as the weapon sought to fulfill its duty, her departing soul was devoured by her dying body."
"She couldn't die!"
"She could not die by her own hand," Zaynab clarified.
"So what did she do?" Evy queried, enraptured.
"The princess called for the priests, who prayed to the ancient gods. They were given an amulet which would capture the princess's soul, allowing her body to die and all the devoured souls to find their proper place in the hereafter."
"Surely, there's a catch. The ancient gods never let anyone off that easily," Evy quipped.
"There was 'a catch', as your say," Zaynab replied, a hint of amusement in her voice, but she quickly grew serious, again. "For the princess's soul could not travel onto Paradise. Instead, it was to remain trapped within the amulet for all time, standing guard over the power of the weapons."
"Oooh! The poor thing....," Evy whispered, mournfully.
"The princess, it is said, does not begrudge this duty, but embraces the opportunity to redeem her family and her people," Zaynab assured, then added, "because she was able to resist the corruption of her soul, and the king was not, their sister was chosen to lead the Abadi in the wake of their deaths."
"And your people have remained matriarchal ever since," Evy concluded.
"We have," the Abadi confirmed and turned returned to writing, hoping the Englishwoman would let the subject drop. Not noticing, Evy's brow furrowed as she mulled over the story.
"Redeem her family how? What exactly is it that she does?"
Zaynab hesitated.
"Oh, please, you can't leave me hanging now," Evy whined. The Abadi sighed, realizing the Englishwoman wasn't going to let it go.
"She frees the souls of any who are devoured," she explained, evasively.
"Frees them? How?"
Again, Zaynab hesitated, then, reluctantly answered, "by destroying the soul of the one that has devoured it."
"Thank you for telling me," Evy offered, politely, sensing she pried all the information she could from the Abadi. Zaynab bowed, slightly, and returned to her letter, as Evy righted herself in her seat. The nervous knot in her stomach returned as she continued to ponder the story. Deciding to distract herself from it, Evy opened the journal and glanced down.
"Allah be praised! Once again, I see enough light in my nephew's eyes to believe he truly sees once more, but any joy from this is dampened by the increasing despair I see in him. It matters not that he does not speak. I do not need words to know he is certain in his conviction that he has failed Dabir. Both Badi'a and I remind him that he grows a little stronger each day. He even begins to walk on his own, although not far. Still, each shaky step is another small gain. But he gains so very slowly, it is difficult for my nephew to belief, as Badi'a and I do with certainty, that he will again be what he was. Dabir's determined absence does not help convince Ardeth of the truth of my words. More and more, my brother depends on Fathi. It is easy to look through Ardeth's eyes and sees that he believes his father no longer considers him worthy to be his son. How could he see otherwise? Dabir not only refuses to see him, my brother will not even speak his name. But I take heart that our people do not turn their backs on my nephew. They still remember his strength when all seemed lost and continue to pray for its return."
Evy breathed an audible sigh of relief; the situation had not worsened, as expected. Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up at Zaynab. Having heard the sigh, the Abadi watched her, with concern in her eyes.
"Just reading," Evy reassured. Grinning, she showed Zaynab the journal in her hand. "The hero didn't die, afterall...."
Although the Abadi didn't respond visibly, Evy got the definite impression that Zaynab was shrugging 'on the inside' as she turned her attention back to her letter. Chuckling as she glanced back down, Evy heard Rick stir restlessly. After he'd slept sounding for so many hours, it surprised her a little. Instinctively, she closed the journal and snuggled against him. Closing her eyes, she quickly slipped into a light sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Ardeth moaned softly in his sleep as the plane descended, hitting bumping air on its way. Glancing over, Alex watched the Medjai shift uncomfortably in his seat. Deciding he must be awake, despite his tightly closed eyes, Alex opened his mouth to try to soothe the warrior. Before he could speak, Najat appeared, shushing him as she knelt in front of Ardeth.
"How's he doing?" Alex asked, anxiously, watching Najat quickly bathe Ardeth with a damp cloth.
"It will be good when we are on the ground and his needs can be better tended," the Abadi replied, evasively. Alex raised an eyebrow as she slipped a hand into one of Ardeth's, apparently intending to stay where she was, instead of returning to her seat.
"The landing will be rough," Najat explained, briefly glancing up at the child.
Alex nodded and, following her lead, took Ardeth's other hand. He winced slightly at the pressure the warrior exerted as the plane's wheels bumped onto the runaway. It was almost enough to distract him from the Medjai's pained gasps.
"We'll be stopped soon," Alex soothed, as Ardeth opened his eyes. It took several seconds for the Medjai to compose himself enough to speak.
"Insha'alla," he finally managed to gasp out, an instant before the plane screeched to a final halt. Abruptly dropping the child's hand, Ardeth dug his finger into the armrest and held his breath through the final forward lurch. He let it out in a long, slow sigh of relief as the plane sat still, at last.
"Rest," Najat instructed, compassionately, rising when the door of the plane opened.
As she let go of his hand, Ardeth draped it across the nearly melted ice pack still partially resting against his wound and closed his eyes. Feeling Alex reclaim his free hand, the warrior cracked his eyes open and gave the child a weak smile.
"All will be well soon, young O'Connell. Do not worry," he whispered, breathlessly.
Alex returned a concerned smile as Ardeth's eyes closed again. Twisting slightly in his seat, he watched Najat and Johari carry a large wrapped bundle from the plane. It took him several seconds to realize it contained the weapons.
"Feels good to be back on the ground, eh, Alex?" Jonathan quipped, disrupting his nephew's thoughts.
"Yeah."
Jonathan resisted the urge to sigh as his nephew's attention returned to Ardeth. Despite what they were going to do to him, he wished Rick and Evy were with them. It seemed less and less likely that Ardeth would recover, and Alex was going to take it hard if he didn't. Jonathan hoped his sister had caught up to them by then.
"You are ready?" Najat inquired, startling both Alex and Jonathan. Focused on Ardeth, they hadn't noticed her come back aboard. "My apologies...."
"Yeah, we're ready, eh, Alex?" Jonathan glanced down at his nephew and smiled.
"Ardeth...?" the Abadi asked, shifting her gaze. Both Jonathan and Alex followed and saw that the Medjai's eyes were open again. Ardeth nodded, and Najat made a gesture with her hand, bringing Johari forward to the Medjai from his seat. Giving him another quick glance, she sighed, snatched the melted ice pack from beneath his robe, and backed out of the way. Jonathan hovered over his nephew, ready to help as soon as he could maneuver close enough.
"Alex."
Alex glanced over to see Najat wiggling her fingers at him and realized he was in the way. Reluctantly releasing Ardeth's hand, he scrambled over to her.
"You'll be back at his side soon," she assured, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Yes, ma'am." Alex smiled, tightly, and gazed back at Ardeth. He grimaced as the warrior's face contorted with pain when Jonathan and Johari pulled him from his seat. Biting his lip and clenching his fists, the Medjai didn't make a sound as they trio moved toward the open door, but the pain remained visible in his expression. Following behind with Najat, Alex held her hand tighter, wishing they were at the hotel all ready, so that Ardeth didn't have to move anymore.
~*~*~*~*~
Alex breathed a sigh of relief as Jonathan and Johari laid Ardeth on the small bed. Although there was barely enough room, he crawled up and snuggled next to the Medjai, provoking a weak smile from Ardeth.
As Johari moved away from the bed to take up his usual post by the door, Najat took his place. Glancing over, Jonathan noticed she'd already mixed a fresh dose of herbs for the Medjai. She bowed, in acknowledgment of the Englishman's stare, before moving toward Ardeth.
"Ardeth," she whispered. He reluctantly opened his eyes and looked at her. Seeing the cup in her hand, he started to prop himself up a little, but Najat stopped him with a gently hand on his chest. "Do not. You must save your strength."
Ardeth nodded, very slightly, and allowed her to lift his head enough to drink.
"Shukran, sadiqi."
She bowed and set the cup on the nightstand. Turning back toward Ardeth, she carefully pulled open his robe, revealing his bandages. Seeing Najat frowned, Jonathan followed her gaze down to Ardeth's abdominal wound. Blood trickled from beneath the well-soaked bandage covering it.
"Ardeth, old by, you might have mentioned you were bleeding again," Jonathan quipped, trying to mask his concern as Alex worriedly poked his head up.
"There seemed little point," the Medjai responded, matter-of-factly. Jonathan swallowed hard as he caught the finality in Ardeth's tone.
"Nonsense, old boy," he managed to choke out, offering a reassuring smile as he patted the Medjai's hand. He nervously watched as Najat removed the bloodied bandage and noticed that the swelling had decreased. "At least the ice seems to be helping."
"Indeed." Jonathan glanced up as Najat spoke and saw her extending an ice bucket his direction. "If it would not be too much trouble..."
"Oh, right, of course, back in a jiff," Jonathan stammered, snatching the ice bucket and rushing away.
"Do not be concerned, Alex," Najat soothed, as the child continued to stared anxiously at the wound. Grabbing a cloth from the basin next to her, she gently swirled it across the Medjai's flesh. "It is good that the swelling has decreased enough for the wound to bleed again."
Alex nodded, skeptically.
"Do not be alarmed, Alex," Ardeth whispered weakly. "I am fine."
Alex nodded again, tearfully, and snuggled back up against the Medjai.
"I must leave you for moment," Najat announced, placing the cloth back into the basin, before laying a fresh one across the wound and another across Ardeth's forehead. His eyes had begun to close, but snapped back open to look at her. Giving her a quick nod, he let them close again.
~*~*~*~*~
"Alex," Najat whispered, softly caressing the child's cheek.
"Mmmm...huh," he responded, sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his bleary eyes.
"You should eat. There is food for you in the other room."
Alex glanced at Najat and smiled, realizing she'd removed her burqa, again. The Abadi returned the smile.
"Ah, I thought that might please you. Now, go eat with your uncle."
Alex glanced down at the Medjai sleeping next to him.
"Ardeth Bey will still be here when you have finished."
Alex nodded and reluctantly climbed down from the bed. With several backwards glances, he wandered into the adjoining room. Seeing Jonathan sitting at a small table, eating a bowl of a soupy something-or-other, Alex sat down across from him. The aroma from whatever it was wafted up as Jonathan slid a bowl over to him, and Alex abruptly realized he was starving. Wholeheartedly diving into the bowl, he didn't even bother to figure out what he was eating.
Pleased, Najat smiled, as she watched. The child had eaten almost nothing while in her care, causing her concern. It also pleased her that he was distracted, leaving her to focus fully on Ardeth while she tended the Medjai. Carefully, Najat removed the cloth covering his wound and dribbled an herbal mixture into it. Ardeth's eyes flew open. His hand reflexively moving toward the pain, he clamped onto her wrist and pulled it away.
"Shh," Najat soothed. "Now that the wound has opened up enough to allow it, it must be cleansed."
Not quite awake as he appeared, Ardeth resisted her attempts to free her wrist. Seeing the fog of sleep still in his eyes, she ceased her struggle and waited for him to gain coherency.
"Najat?" he finally croaked, after nearly a full minute. Glancing up with still slightly bleary eyes, Ardeth noticed she was again uncovered.
"I am sorry to disturb you, but this must be tended," the Abadi insisted, with maternal patience.
Finally awake enough to comprehend why she was causing him pain, Ardeth simply nodded and released her wrist. He made no attempt to stifle a hiss as Najat cleansed the injury. Pausing to wipe away the diluted blood that was running down his side and soaking the mattress, she studied the now open wound, as more blood trickled from it.
"The bleeding grows worse," she announced, and Ardeth tensed, guessing what she was leading up to. "It should be re-stitched."
"No!" Ardeth gasped, unwilling to entertain the thought of enduring the painful procedure yet again. "It matters little. I am unlikely to bleed to death before we reach our destination."
Seeing the anguish in his eyes, Najat sighed and reluctantly nodded. "As you wish."
Frowning, she laid an herb-soaked cloth across the wound and reach into the basin for a fresh water-soaked cloth. Laying it across his forehead, she reached for another. Swirling it around lightly, Najat soothingly bathed Ardeth's feverish skin.
"Thank you," Ardeth whispered, seeing she'd relented, for the moment at least. She nodded, and he closed his eyes, enjoying her soft touch, but the tension remained in his muscles. Seeing it, Najat began to hum softly. Ardeth smiled a little, recognizing the melody. As a child, his mother had often sung him to sleep with the same tune. It didn't take long for it to work its magic. The tension oozing from him, Ardeth slipped into a pleasant dream.
~*~*~*~*~
"How's he doing?"
Najat glanced up and smiled, patiently, as Alex crawled back up beside Ardeth. The Medjai tossed restlessly as the shifting of weight jostled the mattress.
"He is sleeping," she replied, intentionally vague, and returned to humming, hoping to settled the Medjai before he woke.
Hovering in the doorway between the rooms, Jonathan noticed the diluted bloodstain slowly spreading across the bedsheet beneath Ardeth. It confirmed what he'd already felt certain of - that Ardeth wasn't getting any better. Sighing mournfully, he glanced up at Najat. She looked tired - but of course she would be, tending to the lot of them all day. Watching her replace the damp cloth across Ardeth's forehead, Jonathan realized, with dismay, that she likely had a long night ahead of her still. He shook his head, wishing he could help, but knowing that was unlikely.
"Is his fever any better," Alex inquired, glancing at Najat. She stopped humming and turned to rewet the cloth in her hand. Turning back, she met the child's eyes.
"It is not," she answered, simply, and glanced back down at Ardeth, again swirling the cool cloth across his heated flesh. Frowning, Alex sighed and reached for the warrior's hand.
"Do not fret, child. Now that he is settled more comfortable, he will be able to get proper rest and gather strength."
Alex frowned, skeptically. As the child looked at her as though he were going to ask her something else, Jonathan caught a despairing look flash across Najat's face and realized there was something he could do to help.
"Alex."
"Yeah, Uncle Jon." He twisted around to look at his uncle.
"How about another game?" Jonathan fished the deck of cards from his jacket pocket and held them up. Alex glanced at them and, then, down at Ardeth. "Come on now, your not going to make me play with Johari again, are you? Have a little mercy on your poor old uncle?"
Alex smirked, but gave no indication he intended to leave the Medjai's side.
"You will be but a few feet away," Najat added, glancing up at Jonathan and giving him an appreciative smile. She was weary enough without having to split her attention between Alex and Ardeth.
"All right," Alex finally agreed. Still slightly reluctant, he studied the Medjai for a few seconds longer before hopping down from the bed to join his uncle in the other room. Breathing a sigh of relief, Najat carefully changed the herb-soaked cloth covering the wound and returned to bathing the Medjai with cool water.
~*~*~*~*~
"Evy, I'm gonna get some air and stretch my legs, 'kay," Rick informed his wife, from the doorway of the hotel. After nearly seven hours of sleeping on the plane, he wasn't really in the mood to sit around, or worse yet, go to bed.
"Sure." Propped against the wall as she relaxed on the bed, Evy glanced at her husband.
"You want to come along," he asked, raising a flirtatious eyebrow. Evy chuckled.
"Tempting, but I'm really much too tired. I think I'll just stay here and rest." As Rick's face transformed into a disappointed pout, Evy added, "you could stay here with me..."
"Come on, Evy. We've been cooped up all day..."
"Really, Rick," she chided, teasingly. "You're as bad as Alex."
He chuckled. "You're sure?"
Evy nodded.
"All right, then. I'll see if I can find us some decent chow while I'm out," Rick quipped, tossing his wife a grin. Zaynab had rounded up some food for everyone shortly after they'd settled in their rooms. It had been a pleasant smelly, soupy something-or-other that had tolerably filled his empty belly, but Rick craved something a little more substantial.
Shaking her head, Evy smirked at him. As he disappeared out the door, she closed her eyes to rest, but after few minutes, it became clear that, although she was travel-weary, she wasn't particularly sleepy. Opening her eyes and stretching, Evy reached for the journal, flipped it open, and found her spot.
“Dabir's absence begins to weigh heavily upon our people. Not only does he rarely return to camp, he no longer rides with his fellow Medjai. There is one exception. Dabir keeps Fathi constantly at his side. For our people, it is not good that he does so. It is difficult enough that their king appears ready to abandon them, but it causes much aggravation that he keeps with him the son that appears to have become his chosen successor. In their uncertainty, the people turn to Ardeth for assurance. To my amazement, my nephew rises to meet the challenge.”
Taken aback, Evy shook her head. She couldn't imagine a challenge her Ardeth couldn't rise to meet, so it seemed ridiculous that the author would find it amazing. Then again, the journal Ardeth seemed so very different from her Ardeth that, perhaps, it wasn't so difficult to understand. She knew with certainty, however, she would never fathom a father abandoning his son, as the journal Ardeth's had - and now, it appeared his brother had abandoned him, as well. Evy continued to shake her head as she tried to imagine the anguish it must have caused him. Taking a deep breath to quell her rising fury, Evy continued to read.
“It shames me that I am amazed, but I have watched Ardeth's resignation grow until I believed he no longer even sought to return to what he was, but was content to remain forever in the care of Badi'a. However, I have seen a change in him as it becomes apparent that our people increasingly draw comfort simply from his presence. It is so much more than Dabir offers, that it seems not to matter that Ardeth does not speak. Nor are they discouraged that his body is not yet fully recovered. They see in him the strength to keep our people united. I believe it is in response to this that there is new a spark in Ardeth's eyes, or I should say, the old spark has at last rekindled.”
Evy swelled a little with pride as she kept reading. That was her Ardeth.
“Ardeth continues to grow stronger and each day the light of his revived spirit glows brighter. To be certain, he is not yet fully returned to us. He still does not speak and his vision remains weak, although that is something he is nearly able to hide from us. Despite these things, my heart grows lighter each day I see him again practicing with his weapons. I believe it will be many weeks, perhaps months, before he again wields them with skill, but simply to see them in his hands is a pleasure.”
Evy chuckled as the merging Ardeths split apart again in her imagination. She couldn't picture her Ardeth ever wielding a weapon unskillfully.
“I have noticed that Badi'a does not draw pleasure in this as I do, but this is not difficult to understand. A warrior's life is, by its nature, one of risk. Badi'a grieves still, as do I, for her mother, brother, and sisters. Also, I believe she feels deeply the absence of her father and Fathi. To see the day looming that she must again face the possibility of losing Ardeth, too, pains her greatly. It also makes her, perhaps, a little over-protective. Something, which it is apparent, begins to chafe my nephew. I have noticed that their wills clash much more frequently these days. It is odd to think, but I find some measure of assurance in this, for it is increasingly Ardeth's will that triumphs.
Assurance is much needed for all at this time, for it has been nearly three weeks since Dabir and Fathi last returned to camp. It is fortunate, that between gesture and pen, Ardeth has been able to step into his father's role. His guidance holds our people together, despite their king's absence.”
As the journal Ardeth merged back into her Ardeth, Evy shook her head, disapprovingly. A flush of anger lit her cheeks as she thought about Dabir.
“Allah be merciful. Late this afternoon, Fathi returned with his father. Dabir has been gravely injured. The healers tell us there is little they can do and do not expect he will live through the night. I do not know how he was injured. Still clinging to consciousness, Dabir called for Ardeth and Badi'a, before barring from his tent all else but his children. They have been at their father's side since, so I must wait for an explanation from Fathi. A heavy cloud hangs over the camp, for despite his recent absences, Dabir served his people well for many years. He will be mourned by all.”
"Oooh," Evy gasped, feeling remorseful for cursing Dabir. She realized there was little reason to feel guilty; it just seemed somehow wrong to think badly of someone about to die - no matter how horrible they were.
“Dabir has passed, as expected. Ardeth emerged from his father's tent shortly after sunrise to inform the camp. The news was received with sadness, but no great turmoil. I did not expect there would be. Ardeth was already leading the people in his father's absence, so little will change, except that my nephew now wears the title of king. None challenged it, not even Fathi. I had feared that he might. In all, it has all occurred with much more calm than I would have expected. I suppose this is explained by Dabir's prolonged absence. Or perhaps, as it has been with I, the unexpected pleasure of hearing of Ardeth's voice made the gravity of the words he spoke seem less severe. Whatever the reason, Allah be praised that this transition has passed peacefully. Our people have had enough turmoil. Now we will heal.”
Evy sighed, believing she'd reached the end of the story. As much as she'd wanted to know how it all turned out, she felt a little deflated now that it was over. Not quite ready to let go of the adventure, she glanced down and noticed another paragraph, barely squeezed onto the bottom of the page. She found herself wary of reading it, not certain she wanted to risk starting a new story; the last one had been emotional draining enough. Flipping the page, Evy found that it was blank. She continued to flip and discovered there was no more written in the journal. Turning back, Evy decided there was little to lose in reading that last entry.
“I know hardly what to write. With a contentment that I have not known in many months, I returned to Cairo, only to have my heart burdened with grief once more. For I have been told that my dear friends, the Carnahans, have died, killed in a car accident on the very same day that Dabir received his mortal wound. With all that has happened, I am hardly able to grieve properly for them, and for this I am truly sorrowful.”
Evy's jaw dropped. She hadn't expected to find herself back at the beginning. Well, not the beginning, exactly, but back to the death of her parents. A tearful lump rose up in her throat. The entry said nothing Jonathan hadn't already told her, but it seemed so much more real to read it on paper. Of course, she'd had to deal with the reality of it years ago, but still...reading it was almost like receiving the bad news all over again. Setting the journal down, an eerie numbness settled over her as she curled onto her side and fell asleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Relieved that her reinforcements had at last arrived, Najat smiled, gratefully, as Zaynab approached Ardeth's bed. She desperately craved sleep; Zaynab could see it in her features and slid the cloth from Najat's hand. Offering another appreciative smile, Najat wandered into the adjoining room and, after sparing a quick glance at Jonathan and Alex curled up peacefully on the bed, settled herself on the floor. Quickly asleep, Najat stirred only slightly as Ardeth tossed, restlessly.
Instinctively choosing the same soothing method Najat had employed, Zaynab softly hummed, as she snatched the cloth from Ardeth forehead and replaced it with a fresh one. The Medjai settled for a moment, but stirred again as she lifted the cloth from his wound, re-soaked it, and re-placed it. Quickly grabbing another wetted cloth, Zaynab softly swirled it across his skin, calming Ardeth back into a more restful sleep. She glanced up, briefly, as Widad entered. Nodding her head toward the floor, Zaynab wordlessly instructed her fellow Abadi to rest. Widad nodded and made herself comfortable, knowing Zaynab would wake her when she grew too sleepy.
~*~*~*~*~
The soft click of the closing door as Zaynab and Widad departed woke Alex. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes for several seconds before sitting up and, carefully, slipping off the bed. Wandering over to Ardeth's bed, he saw Najat standing where she'd been the night before, still faithfully tending the Medjai. He briefly wondered how she managed to look rested, then shrugged and glanced down at Ardeth. Alex couldn't decide if he looked any better or not.
"How's he doing?" He finally asked.
Najat glanced up and smiled. "His fever has lessened a bit, as has the bleeding."
Alex grinned, relieved. "You were right. He just needed some proper rest."
Najat smiled, tolerantly. She didn't have the heart to inform him that the improvement was likely only temporary. They had much traveling still to do, which would quickly drain away the reserve the Medjai had pooled during the night.
"We must depart soon," she announced, abruptly changing the subject. "Would you do me the favor of waking your uncle? Breakfast waits for you on the table."
Alex spun around and saw that, indeed, there was food on the table. He shook his head, amazed that he'd strolled right past it without noticing.
"Sure thing!" he replied. Turning back toward Najat, he grinned, mischievously, before dashing back to the other bed and bounded onto it. The resulting bounce brought his uncle awake with a startled gasp.
"Alex...," Jonathan mumbled, grumpily.
"Sorry, Uncle Jon, but Najat said to wake you up so we can eat breakfast before we leave," Alex replied, innocently. His expression provoked a smile from his uncle.
"Well, if Najat says we must eat, then we must eat. Let's see what culinary delights await us, shall we?" Jonathan replied, with feigned cheerfulness, as he pulled himself off the bed and strolled to the table. Alex laughed and bounced off the bed. Following his uncle, he grabbed a generous sample of the various breads and fruits sitting on the tray in the center.
Najat smiled, pleased to see her guests enthusiastically eating. Forcing her attention back to more serious matter, she gently skimmed a finger across one of Ardeth's tattoos. Startling, his eyes slowly flittered open and, eventually, focused on the Abadi.
"My apologies, Ardeth, but we must prepare to leave."
Sleepily blinking his eyes, Ardeth nodded, not fully grasping the subtle warning until he felt the cloth lifted from his wound. Closing his eyes tightly against the anticipated pain, the Medjai bit his lip as Najat covered the wound with a salve and secured a fresh bandage over the top. He noted, with weary delight, that it had not hurt as much as expected, and wondered if it were improving, or if he were just getting used to the pain. Sighing, Ardeth opened his eyes to see Najat looking down at him with concern. She didn't bother to ask if he were all right; it would have been a silly question.
"It still bleeds, although less. The salve should slow it further, but it really should be..."
"No!" Ardeth exclaimed, with all the force he could muster - which wasn't much. "It will be fine. We haven't much further to travel."
Najat bowed, stiffly, to acknowledge his wishes, and reached down to help him sit up. Ardeth waved her away, pleased that he felt strong enough not to need assistance. The Abadi simply shrugged and back away.
"I will bring you food. Will you try to eat?"
Although he had no appetite whatsoever, Ardeth nodded. He'd eaten nothing since before arriving in England, and knew the lack of nourishment only added to his body's weakness. With a smile, Najat bowed, respectfully, and quickly dashed to the table to gather a plate for him. Returning, she laid it on the bed beside him and excused herself. Glancing at the plate, Ardeth's stomach churned, disapprovingly, but he forced himself to pick up a chunk of bread and half-heartedly bit into it.
~*~*~*~*~
Returning to the bed, Najat smiled, approvingly, as she inspected plate. Ardeth had managed to eat nearly half of the food on it, which was not a lot, but more than she'd really expected. Studying the warrior as he rested, eyes closed, against the wall, she hoped it would be enough to give him the strength he needed for the day's travel.
As though aware he were being watched, Ardeth abruptly opened his eyes. Seeing Najat was, again, fully covered, the Medjai assumed it was time to leave and heaved his legs over the side of the bed, biting his lip against the pain of the movement. Caught off-guard, Najat had no time to signal Johari, or even Jonathan, for assistance. Lunging forward as Ardeth rose to his feet, she just managed to tuck a shoulder beneath his arm before his legs went out from under him. Turning his head slightly as she wavered beneath his weight, Ardeth smiled, sheepishly.
"Johari!" Wary of attempting to move, Najat waited for the warrior to shuffle over and take her place.
"Ardeth...," Alex chided, paternally, having witness the event from the doorway. The tone provoked a soft chuckle from the Medjai, as the group began to move toward the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~