Ardeth sat on a folding stool in the small tent he shared with Carrie and their son. Despite the heat of late afternoon, the tent sides were rolled down, giving him what privacy could be had. He was stripped to the waist and wished to shield himself from the eyes of the curious Nubian women while he used a pan of water and a leather scraper to cleanse his body.
The Nubian camp did not have excess water for bathing, and Ardeth did his best to scrub from his skin the blood stains of the dead without wasting the precious fluid. He wanted the remains of the campaign gone from him, however, as it was an unclean thing to carry the blood of the damned upon oneself. Besides, it had been far more slaughter than battle, this killing of the Cybeline, for most had not been warriors. Away from their temple, no longer under the influence of whatever narcotic burned in their infernal torches, they had been easy prey except for the handful of surviving guards.
One of these had inflicted several well-aimed strikes on Ardeth’s left arm before meeting his end on a Medjai sword. Immediately after the battle, Jehan had stitched the wounds closed with a skill Carrie now admired. “She throws a nice row of sutures, that girl.” Criminy, she added silently, he’s just beat all to hell, AGAIN. Between the thrashings received by the Cybeline, the Nubian herders, and now these new wounds, Ardeth’s body, his graceful, beautiful body, which usually took her breath away, made her wince. He looked like ten miles of bad country road.
Not that she looked much better, she thought wryly, daubing an unguent on his cuts. She had a nice collection of bruises herself, but the worst was her leg, which, while healing from the snakebite, was an amalgamation of rainbow hues, mostly shading towards puce. “Darlin’, we need a vacation,” she drawled as she stoppered the vial of ointment. “Some place real quiet. I can catch up on my reading and you can take up a new hobby, say, canasta or shuffleboard.”
His arm reached around hers, entwining it. Looking up at her, he gave her a stunning smile. “You know of such a place?”
Rolling her eyes as if in deep thought, she answered, “Sure. Plenty. Let’s see…Miami Beach, Bermuda, they say the Hamptons are nice this time of year. I can be packed in a jiffy. I travel real light.”
Laughing at her playfulness, he brought his other arm around her and pulled her gently into his lap. “What about Cairo?”
“Cairo, Illinois? You have family there? No?” She pushed an errant lock of hair from his face and blinked as if in enlightenment. “Oh, you mean Cairo, EGYPT.”
“Hmmmm, I do. Ibrahim leaves before dawn for Khartoum where he will arrange passage on a steamer headed north. We will be in Cairo in a few days. From there, we will take the desert road home.”
“Why don’t we just go back to the village the way we came? Wouldn’t it be faster?”
“I must consider you and our son. The highlands are dangerous and the route, rigorous. It is a lawless place with many renegades.” He shook his head in emphasis. It was also possible some Cybeline had survived and he would NOT place Carrie and Jabrail in such danger. “Taking a boat to Cairo and then traveling on known Medjai roads is wiser, although this is the season of the winds and we will have to deal with the sandstorms.”
“So it’s a cruise down the river Nile, then.” She flashed him a look of obviously phony innocence, batted her eyelashes, and pondered with a slight simper, “My, I am not sure I have the right clothes for a cruise. What if the captain invites me to his cabin for a late supper? If I didn’t have a decent ball-gown, I’d have to go in the all-together.” When his aristocratically arched brows knit in consternation at her slang, she quickly added in her normal voice, “You know. Naked. Buck-assed bare.”
His devilish chuckle was one of a man enjoying his wife’s humor, and came with a strikingly brilliant and genuine smile. “The captain would then be dead, as I am verrrrry careful when it comes to who looks upon your buck-assed bare body. Do not forget, my fine lady, that you are the wife of an intensely protective Medjai chieftain.” Despite his jesting banter, his voice took on the low, sensuous growl that played upon the deepest strings of her soul. Carrie recognized the unmistakable rumble of arousal and possession in her husband’s throat and the resultant thrill it always sent through her. He WAS protective of her, but it was not possessiveness for the sake of possession, she knew, but of his abiding love, and she completely reciprocated.
Nestling her head into the hollow of his shoulder, she kissed the skin of his neck and sighed contentedly. “I know. I’m the same way about you. I don’t much care for people ogling your assets. I’m glad you closed the flap before you took off your shirt. I’ve noticed how those Nubian women look at you, the hussies.”
“Look at all of us,” Ardeth agreed with a lift of his eyebrow. “On the hunt, there was one who looked at Tariq as if he was a shank of goat, succulent and ready for the feast.”
Carrie smiled at the image of Jehan’s annoyance at another woman trying to get to first base with Tariq. “I bet Jehan had a few things to say about that.”
Ardeth stared at his wife for a moment as he deciphered the meaning of the baseball reference. He caught the spirit of the phrase however, and shook his head. “She did not seem to care. She has become close to the Nubians, preferring their company to anyone else’s, even Tariq’s.”
Carrie’s surprise was genuine. “No kiddin’? Gee, that doesn’t sound like her.” Straightening up so she could look into Ardeth’s face, she asked, “What happened while I was entertaining the Cybeline?”
“Many things.” He went on to tell her all he knew of Jehan and Tariq’s trials, including the tribunal his sister would face when they returned home.
Carrie listened with concern. Jehan had been in trouble before, but she was now under the full weight of Medjai military justice. “Surely…Ardeth, surely there are extenuating circumstances. After all, she was instrumental in saving our lives.”
“It is my hope that the council will see this as well, but, little one…” He paused as he pressed his lips against her forehead, grateful to be able to share his worries with such an understanding heart.
“But?”
“But she has transgressed as a Medjai warrior. She wished to follow that path and now she must live by its laws. Her punishment could be severe, but there is still some room for hope. Ibrahim believes she has the gift of sight. If so, she has some protections.” He paused for a moment and added almost as an afterthought, “And of course, if Tariq does as I advised and gets her with child, that will forestall any sentence and mend whatever troubles they have.”
Carrie’s reaction was immediate and strong. “You did what? You ordered Tariq to get her pregnant? You’ve got to be kidding me. You just told me that they are barely speaking, so you ordered Tariq to have sex with her?” Her voice rose in pitch as she rose from his lap.
“They are joined, and it was not exactly an order.” He tried to calm her by dropping his own voice a fraction lower. What they discussed was a personal issue and not for overhearing ears.
Carrie was totally aware of his ploy, and quieted, but still hissed, “She’ll kill him and then you if she ever finds out, and, frankly, DARLING, I might help her. What did you say? ‘Just get her in bed and everything will be fine’?”
Ardeth hadn’t expected her to be shocked by this, as Carrie knew their ways, at least he thought she did, and reminded her of their law. “A pregnant woman cannot be executed or banished until the child is weaned, if her husband so requests, besides, it is best if they are reconciled when she stands before the tribunal.”
“Oh, don’t give me that Medjai chieftain mumbo-jumbo. I realize you think this will help, but having sex isn’t the answer to every problem in the world, particularly one between a husband and wife.” As she finished, she realized he was smiling at her like the cat that ate the canary, and she crossed her arms in annoyance. “Alright, what has you grinning like a Cheshire cat? What?”
He was trying very hard not to smile, actually, but couldn’t resist savoring the irony in Caroline’s words as he reminded her, “Having sex always ends any disagreements we have.”
She just stared at him, trying to maintain a respectable level of irritation, but finding she couldn’t. In fact, she fought down the laugh that threatened to bubble forth. “Fine, fine, so I’m a pushover. It doesn’t mean that is sound marital advice, you know, and it DOESN’T mean I forget the disagreement, I just choose to ignore it for a few minutes, that’s all.”
He stood and, in a moment, had his arms around her waist. It struck him that she had a waist again, after so many months of being rounded, and it excited him to imagine her body being as it was before their child was conceived. He had loved her gravid shape but their intercourse had become far more restrained as she became larger. Now, holding her slenderness in his arms, he thought of all the ways they would again pleasure each other. There was no disguising the husky purr in his voice as he asked, “Are we having a disagreement now?”
Despite her continued attempts to appear irritated, her hands rested on his hips, right above where the draw stringed top hung on his lean body. “And if we are, it’s just going to have to percolate for awhile, isn’t it? By your custom, a man can’t have sex with a woman until six weeks after she gives birth, remember?”
“Hmm, I do.” His words were those of agreement, but the timber was of desire as he pulled her closer.
“Personally, I think it’s a stupid custom and needs to be ignored.” She traced the dark, indigo tattoos on his chest with the tip of an index finger. At one time, she hadn’t known their meaning, now she could recite them by heart, these ancient figures that bound him to his duty. They were beautiful, the way they colored his amber skin, far more adornment than disfigurement. They were not unlike the tattoo on her thigh that bound her to him. Symbols binding hearts and souls were at the center of the Medjai world, which was now her world. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the mark that lay on his left breast.
Closing his eyes at the touch of her lips, Ardeth moaned softly. It did not take much to make his body hunger for more, but he forced his mind from his loin’s urges, reminding himself that she had almost died just a handful of days before. Opening his eyes, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and quietly crooned, “At the moment, I agree. However, We must lead by example and follow our ways if I am to keep the respect of our people. Besides, my sweet, eager, and so willing wife, if you had a patient who had gone through what you had in the last few weeks, I doubt if you would allow that she make love, particularly the way we make love, little one.”
She glanced up to see a knowing smile curving his lips ever so slightly. It made her blush to remember how amorous they were in bed, and she dipped her eyes before looking back up and answering in what she hoped was a professional tone, “If you are asking for my learned opinion as a doctor, I would say that would depend.”
Seeing her cheeks color so fetchingly filled him with overwhelming tenderness and made him seriously doubt his ability to wait five more weeks before bedding her again, but he managed to ask patiently, “On?”
“On if her husband was anything like you, because I think any red-blooded girl would be sorely tested to keep any such ridiculous custom when her husband, who is half naked, is holding her this close and making such lascivious suggestions.” Sighing, she rolled her eyes in exasperation and stepped back a few inches. “But, I suppose that big willy of yours might be more than I could handle, considering I am still a bit sore in certain places.” The soft croons of a just-awakened baby caused her to look at where Jabrail rested. “Besides, there is another male in this family who has need of me at the moment.”
Ardeth watched as she leaned over their cooing son. She scooped him into her arms with a smile of total adoration. It was a blessing that Caroline was a good mother, he thought, although he had always expected her to be, with her gentle heart. It made him love her all the more, knowing that she treasured the babe they had brought into this world together. As she opened her blouse, he glimpsed the rounded flesh of her breast, a part of her that belonged, for now, to the child who innocently mouthed at a nipple. Soon enough, he told himself, soon enough, Jabrail would have to share her. Until then, Ardeth knew he could wait, letting Jabrail have her to himself for a few more weeks, and letting Caroline concentrate on being primarily a mother.
Pulling on his tunic, belting it, and securing his scimitar in place, he lifted the tent flaps. As he did, sunlight, a bit of a breeze, and the eyes of the outside world, streamed into their tiny retreat. “The breeze is refreshing. It has gotten quite warm in here,” he noted with a touch of humor as he squatted by her side.
“Just a mite. Could have been all that steam we were generating, cowboy,” Carrie replied.
He leaned close to her ear and murmured, “I promise you, it is nothing compared to what we will generate when again we are as one.”
His breath against her neck caused shivers to course down her spine and she muttered, “Five weeks, huh?”
“Hmmmm,” came the reply. Kissing her temple, he looked at the baby suckling contentedly and changed the subject before he dwelled too long upon how long those five weeks would be. “How much he has grown in the few days I was gone. Your body nourishes him well.”
“It does now, but for a few days there, I was dry as a bone. The Nubians saved his life. I like your friend, Etosha, by the way. She’s quite the gal.”
“Among her people, there is no queen more feared, but she has always been as true a friend as I have ever known.”
Neither realized the woman about whom they spoke was nearby. Their first inkling of her approach was when one of her fierce guards stepped into the just- open side of the tent. Tall, as were most of the Nubians, and nearly blue-black, the young woman pounded twice on the ground with a tall staff to announce her queen’s arrival.
Etosha’s command of English was spotty, but she caught her name in the jumble of words spoken by Ardeth and his wife. “Is it about me you speak, Medjai?” she asked, as she settled on a pillow in the tent. She moved with an ease born of one who understands that everything in the camp belonged to her, including the shelter occupied by her friends.
Switching to Arabic, Ardeth explained, “We do, and I apologize for not speaking in your language. My wife and I are accustomed to using English to maintain intimacy. I was telling her that you are not only a great queen but a great friend.”
Etosha waved away his apology with her hand and then used the same motion to signal a server to bring a plate of roast gazelle into the tent. “It matters not to me what tongue you use, as long as the praise is honest and generous. Of course, if it is honest, then it is indeed generous.” She sent the servant away with a sharp look before indicating Ardeth and Carrie should sit beside her to join in the meal. “I have come to like this woman of yours,” she commented to Ardeth as she gestured at Carrie. “She is not like other outsiders I have encountered, of course, most of those did not live for long after I met them.” Realizing this might insult Carrie, she added quickly, “Most died well, for white men, although they were British, not Americans.”
Carrie managed a nod of thanks at what she knew was meant as a compliment. To die well was important in the desert, as death was always the measure of a man’s worth, or, at least, how he met that death.
Etosha continued talking, pulling apart a large hunk of meat with her fingers as she did. “I wish to inquire of your sister, Ardeth.”
He resisted an impulse to ask what Jehan had done THIS time, swallowed a bite of the gazelle, and simply stated, “Ask what you will.”
“She could be a Nubian, except for her coloring. She is welcome to stay here and learn of us, perhaps become one of us, if you will release her from her vows of obedience.”
Ardeth nodded thoughtfully, knowing that Etosha’s request was not that of a friend but of a commander to another. “I will not hold her in my service if she prefers to follow you, and will ask this of her. The decision will be hers. I would mandate that her stay be a temporary one, however, perhaps of one year. There is a good deal she could learn from your warriors, and if she was to return to us, she could share this with the Medjai. In return, I would invite you to send one of your own warriors to live among us, learn from us, and come back with a greater understanding of the Medjai ways. Such an exchange makes both our tribes stronger.” He continued to eat the meal, his demeanor relaxed, as was Etosha’s. It was all a part of the art of such discussions, this sharing of food, and was as studied as a formal dance.
Sitting at her husband’s side, her son asleep in her arms, Carrie watched with interest. How quickly this had turned into a negotiation between leaders, she noted while wondering where Tariq figured into all of this. It wasn’t up to her to ask, however, not right then, anyway, and she held her tongue as she rose to place Jabrail in his makeshift cradle.
She hadn’t long to ponder this issue as Ardeth broached the subject. “She is wed, what of her husband?”
Etosha waved one hand in the air as if this was unimportant. “He is welcomed to stay if she so wishes, but he will have to conform to our ways. It would not be easy for him.” Casting a knowing look at Ardeth, she pointed out the obvious. “Medjai men are not well-suited to life as a Nubian woman’s consort.” She then laughed out loud and gestured towards Carrie who returned to sit next to Ardeth. “Did you tell your husband of my offer?” Without waiting, Etosha leaned towards Ardeth, placing her hand on his thigh in a way Carrie found a bit more personal than she liked. “I gave your wife a gift, but she turned it down.”
Ardeth’s eyes flew to Carrie in alarm. Etosha had saved his life and that of his family. To return this kindness by refusing a gift was extremely rude. Clearly, Etosha did not act displeased, but he knew the Nubian was a master at hiding her true emotions to make a point. Still, he had faith in his wife, and quietly responded, “Caroline would not insult you thusly, Etosha, I am certain of this. She is a woman of the highest manners. You must have misunderstood.”
Raucous laughter then exploded from the Nubian queen as she slapped Ardeth – hard - on the leg. “Spoken well, my friend. Spoken well. It is good for a man to believe in his woman. You would have been a fine mate for a Nubian queen, indeed. No insult occurred as I did not formalize the gift. I would have offered her one of my consorts, anyone save my favorite, to take with her when you leave. He would have kept her company while you were away making the desert safe for mankind.”
Carrie knew she would later ask him why Etosha was so darned familiar with him. It wasn’t as if Ardeth let many women even touch him, let alone slap him on the thigh. Now, however, watching the play of emotions on Ardeth’s face, she joined in the laughter, knowing she would tease him about this for DAYS when they were alone. “Maybe I should have asked to see these consorts anyway, Etosha,” she added with a wink, “Just to avoid seeming rude.”
Not one to be left behind by such banter, Ardeth tilted his head back and proclaimed, “Look all you wish, wife. No man could satisfy you as can I. No offense to you, Etosha, or your fine husbands, but I wager none of them are as blessed as am I.” He then chuckled heartily, enjoying the moment as much as the women.
Etosha was the first to speak. “As your husband asserts he is more than enough man for you, and as he saved my life, I cannot argue with him. Let me give you something else.” Taking a broad gold cuff from her arm, she held it towards Carrie. “This is of my family. The Lion of the Medjai is much feared, and where he is not, I am. My name will protect you where his will not, as all of Sudan will know that you are under my protection when they see this upon you.”
Carrie extended both hands in surprise. The cuff in her hands was heavy, obviously made of nearly pure gold, and bore upon it symbols she did not understand. Some appeared Egyptian, but others were unknown. “It is magnificent,” she whispered as she turned it over in her hands. Reverting to English as she looked even more closely at the bracelet, whispered, “It is, oh my word, Ardeth, look at this, it is remarkable. I’ve never seen anything so fine in my life.” She met Etosha’s gaze and switched to Arabic. “I am so very honored, so very, very honored. I will treasure it always, and I will never, ever forget the woman who gave it to me, or the kindness she has shown to me. One day, perhaps, I can repay you and you can be my guest in our village?”
Etosha’s smile was as warm as the African sun. “I would like that, Carrie,” she answered in deeply accented English. Switching back to her own tongue, she added, “I have always wanted a Medjai boy in my stable. I would come to your village and look for one who is young enough to train properly. I love your Ardeth like a brother, and he is pretty, but he is far too set in his ways to ever be suitable in my court. He is very old, yes? Too old to adapt.” Her black eyes raked Ardeth from head to toe appraisingly. “Whatever caused you to choose him?”
It was meant as a jest, and received as such by Carrie and Ardeth. Carrie’s answer, too, was given in humor. “I really liked his stallion, Osiris, you see, and the only way I could get my hands on that big horse was to marry the rider.”
Etosha’s smile bloomed into a laugh of complete delight. “You married him for his big horse?” She paused, waiting for her friends to react to the humor in this. Realizing they did not understand, she explained, “Among my people, when a woman says a man has a big horse, it means he is large between the legs! It is quite a compliment.”
Carrie turned scarlet then, and was left speechless, her jaw literally dropping as she struggled to reply. Ardeth was nearly as startled, but rose to the occasion with a wicked comeback of his own. “And I like very much the way she straddles my big horse. Truly, no other woman can handle him as can she.” His hand reached to Carrie’s, covering it affectionately as he turned to look at her. No other woman, indeed, he thought to himself before lifting her hand to his mouth, his lips placing a tender kiss on the open palm.
Etosha had many men in her stable, but did indeed have a favorite, one whom she could truly say she cherished, and she recognized the sincere love between her old Medjai friend and her new American one. Standing, she dipped her head in honor of it. “It is good to know love, my friends, and I rejoice for you. I must leave you now, as there is a matter of twins to attend to, and, while I do not love them, I do enjoy them for they both have very willing horses. Tomorrow we shall talk, yes, regarding Jehan’s decision.” Calling to her guard, who was never far away, she disappeared into the newly fallen night.
“Big horse, hmmm?” Carrie slyly asked Ardeth, her eyebrows lifting provocatively as she let her stare drift to his groin.
He gave her a broad smile, his white teeth catching the glimmer of the campfire nearby, then leaned close to her ear and issued a soft, throaty, deep-timbered nicker worthy of the lustiest of stallions.
His voice sent icy tinglings across her skin as she imagined herself ‘back in the saddle’ with her fiery stud. “Easy there, big fella,” she said playfully. Still, she knew her body wasn’t ready for sex, and, as she delivered an adoring caress to his cheek, she smiled wistfully. “Five weeks. We have to set an example, remember? It’s our duty.”
“How can I forget?” His voice was still soft, still laden with love, but his teeth were clenched in frustration. Carrie understood perfectly and sighed as both wondered just exactly how they would be able to restrain themselves for the long weeks required by Medjai custom.
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The Cult of the Cybeline – Chapter 37