Finding Jonathan

"Hey! That's my gold stick!" Jonathan exclaimed indignantly as Izzy took the stick from his hand.

"Not anymore it ain't. It's mine now."

Beside Jonathan, Ardeth began laughing softly.

Jonathan turned to scowl at him. "I don't think it's very funny," he snapped. "After all, that gold stick is - was now - the only thing I have left in the world. Without it, I'm destitute. I have nothing. So if you don't mind, I would really appreciate it if you just stopped laughing."

Ardeth stopped laughing and looked at Jonathan for a long moment. His eyes were serious and grave as he studied the younger man.

"What?" Jonathan asked, squirming under the piercing gaze.

"I am tying to see if you are serious about your claim," the dark man replied.

"Of course I'm serious. I'm a poor man. I've got nothing now."

"It would seem to me," Ardeth remarked, stroking the feather's on Horace's
chest, "that you are the opposite. I see you as a very rich man indeed."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? How do you figure that?"

The Med-jai nodded to the bow of the ship, where Rick and Evelyn stood, wrapped in each other. "You have a family that loves you; a nephew that adores you. A comfortable home to live in. You are healthy. You live in a world rife with opportunities. You survived the creature with nothing more than a few wounds. You are clever and resourceful. You are handsome. You. . ."

"I got it," the blue-eyed man interrupted. He looked away for a long moment, feeling his cheeks warm. Ardeth was practically a stranger, some one who had helped them nine years ago, then faded away into the desert, only to pop up again now. His life was unlike anything that Jonathan could imagine. How could he explain himself to a man who's best friend was a bird and though that Jonathan was rich because he was burdened down by people?

Taking a deep breath, Jonathan said slowly, "You life out here, in the desert, with next to nothing, right? A tent, a blanket, some money. Not many personal belongings."

"That is correct."

"And for you, it's enough. Because beyond what you own, you have a purpose, a place in life. I don't. Ever since my. . .my father died, I've been nothing but a burden to my sister. I know she's embarrassed by me. I squandered away two fortunes, can barely afford to rent a flat and eat at the same time, can barely afford the brandy that I can't stop drinking. After Hamunaptra, I tired to leave. She was married and didn't need her older brother around. But I lost what I had gotten from the city and had to go back. Evy and Rick only take me in because I'm family. Oh, they pretend they don't mind," Jonathan said quickly as Ardeth opened his mouth. "They say I'm family and welcome. That their home is mine."

"It certainly seemed big enough."

"Oh, yes, it's big enough. Entire days can go by without us running into each other. But I'm just in the way of the happy family. And Alex, yes he is the world to me, and he loves me even though I'm nothing. We're more pals than anything else; I'm not an authority figure. I'm just, Uncle Jon, no one special. In a few years he'll be old enough to understand what I am and despise me."

"What you are? A poor man?" The Med-jai's voice sounded slightly ironic as he said the word poor.

The blue-eyed man shook he head, feeling the heavy weight of depression settle over him. "He has so much to give the world, just like Rick, Evy, and you. I don't have anything. All I am is a coward, a cheat, and a blood fool." With those final words, Jonathan pulled his legs to his chest, hiding his face in them. With any luck, Ardeth would leave him to his misery and seek more worthy company. 'Even Izzy would be better than me', Jonathan reflected to himself gloomily.

He started and tensed when a warm hand touched his bared neck. It was warm and gentle as it began to caress Jonathan. "I think you underestimate yourself, Jonathan." The Med-jai's voice was dark and sensuous, comforting. "You, a man who is not a warrior, faced down the creature, who was ingenious enough to find alternative transportation at the museum. . ."

"Only because I broke the car," was Jonathan's muffled reply. He squeezed his eyes, willing himself not to respond to Ardeth's ministrations. His body ignored his mind and began, minutely, to relax.

"There is no shame in making mistakes. The only shame comes in the refusal to correct them." Ardeth was silent for a moment. "You are here, willing to risk your life for you nephew instead of at home where it would be safe."

Jonathan turned his head so the side of his face rested on his knees, eyes looking up at Ardeth. "As frightening as it is out here, I think it would hurt more to be home and find out that Alex and everyone is dead."

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. "You are so certain we will fail?"

"I don't know. I hope not." Then he pulled away from Ardeth as much as he could in the cramped space the men were sharing. "And it's not like there's much chance for treasure out there, is there? Except for that diamond Alex was telling me about. The one on top of the pyramid? I had to come and take a look at that."

There was a long silence. After a moment, the blue-eyed man began squirming under the Med-jai's scrutiny. He was staring at him with penetrating eyes, as if he could peel through the layers and walls that Jonathan had spent so long erecting and see into his soul.

"What?" Jonathan finally asked, exasperation coloring his tone.

"You are not really here for that," Ardeth told him.

"How do you know? I already told you, I lost everything I had. Maybe some treasure hunting will do me good. Help me out a bit."

Ardeth sighed and shook his head. "You put too much stock in material things, then, and not enough on what really matters."

"And what really matters then?"

"Family. Love. Life."

The blue-eyed man snorted. "Family. People, you mean. Well, let me tell you, my friend, it's easier to lose people than it is to lose things. And it hurts a whole hell of a lot more. Look at me; look at them. Alex is gone and all of us have big parts of ourselves missing. It's like a part of us has been ripped out and it bloody hurts! Losing my fortune was hard, yes, but not like this. This. . .this isn't worth it."

"Then why are you here?" Ardeth asked quietly. "Is the diamond really enough to lure you into danger and death?"

To Jonathan's horror and disgust, tears began pushing behind his eyes. Fighting them back, he said, "No, I . . .no. I just. . . .after everything, I can't lost Alex too.

Ardeth moved the arm with Horus slightly and the bird flew onto the landing. Once his arms were free, the Med-jai tried to pull Jonathan to him.

For a moment, Jonathan resisted. The last thing he wanted was this man's pity. Pity and contempt were too closely linked in Jonathan's experience and the thought of Ardeth despising him was too much. But, he was insistent. Finally, the blue-eyed man relented and allowed himself to be cradled against the Med-jai's chest, held safely in his strong arms. Once he had won the battle of wills, Ardeth began speaking in the soft, seductive tone once more. "You are much stronger than you believe, Jonathan, and a much better man than you portray yourself. You have the wealth of the world at your feet, but you reject if for fear. From whence does this fear come?"

Jonathan said nothing, simply breathing in the Med-jai's scent.

He sighed and ran his hand through Jonathan's hair, down his neck, to his back. "You need help, my friend. You have so much pain, so many layers you have wrapped yourself in that you have become lost yourself. You sister - Allah bless her - cannot help you. Let me. Allow me to help you find yourself once more."

"I don't think it's possible."

"Anything is possible." Lips were pressed against Jonathan's temple. Then, Ardeth continued, "I want you to come with me, after we rescue your nephew, after we are away from this place. Join me with my tribe in the desert. For one year, at the very least. There, I will help you overcome your fear and your need for material belongings. I will teach you to love the life you have."

The blue-eyed man pulled back, furtively swiping his eyes. "Leave my home? My country? Stay with you, a man I hardly know in a strange place?" He shook his head. "That's crazy. That's . . .frightening." He looked down. "Too hard."

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. "You are afraid only because you are convinced
nothing can help you. I know better; you are not as lost as you believe." Ardeth took his hand. "It should be hard. Change always is. Change is frightening as well, but, in the end, well worth everything. You cannot continue to live as you are, feeling as if you are worthless and a burden, would be worse." He forced Jonathan to meet his gaze. "I am afraid for you if you continue in this manner. Please, consider my offer."

Jonathan took a shaky breath, gazing into the Med-jai's dark eyes. His hand was tingling from Ardeth's touch while his stomach danced round nervously. It was tempting, if only because he would be able to spend time with this seductive man. And yet, to give up his life of comfort, where everything he needed was only a short distance away. . .

Where he was unneeded. A perpetual guest in his sister's home. The intruder to the happy family life that he saw around him. Where everything seemed right, but he knew that he'd never really belong.

He belonged no where, as far as he could tell. Ever since his father had died, he'd been lost. And now, this man was offering to help him find himself once more.

Closing his eyes, his tightened his grip on Ardeth's hand and nodded once. "Yes. I will think about it."

* * *

Jonathan sat in the dirigible, hugging the diamond he had taken tightly. Evy and Rick were cuddled together at the bow once more; Alex was asleep at his side. A course had been set for home and all was well once more.

He was rich.

Then why was he so unhappy?

Sighing, he rested his head on the smooth surface of the diamond. An image danced in his brain: Ardeth as he had last seen him. Sitting on his horse, the commander of an army of thousands, biding them farewell.

Obviously he had forgotten the offer he had made Jonathan. Not that he had ever had any intention of keeping it. Just, it was nice, in that moment it was made, to think that someone wanted him around. Someone besides his deeply adored nephew who viewed him more as a best friend than anything else.

Jonathan should have known the offer was too good to be true. He was embarrassed by his reaction to it now. Perhaps the Med-jai didn't see, but Jonathan had believed that perhaps his concern and offer had been something more than just helping him out. Something akin to interest in him as a potential lover.

He snorted, lifted his head, and began polishing the stone. "Rubbish," he said softly to himself. "What would a man like that see in you? You're not a Warrior of God or a reincarnated princess. You're just a pathetic drunk with a diamond. Nothing he would ever want." Firmly pushing all thoughts of Ardeth Bay from his mind, Jonathan set himself to the arduous task of deciding how he would go about spending the wealth he would soon have.

* * *

Ardeth had never ridden so hard in his life. Soon after the dirigible had drifted from sight, he realized what Jonathan would most likely believe. He had not, in fact, forgotten his offer. Even while facing the army of Anubis, it had flashed though his mind. It had been a serious offer of help and something more, something that the Med-jai was almost too afraid to examine. The Englishman drew him strongly; even if he did not feel the same way towards Ardeth, it would be enough for him to help Jonathan through some of his pain.

So, he had ridden to the nearest camp, borrowed a fresh horse, and set a hard pace for the airfields outside Cairo. He managed to arrive soon after the dirigible had landed, before the O'Connell's and Jonathan had left.

Jonathan was leaning against his car outside the hanger, holding a large diamond to his chest tightly. He glanced up from it when Ardeth rode up to him, freezing.

The Med-jai dismounted. "I see that once again you find a fortune in your hands, my friend."

"Oh, yes. Quite a large one, this could be," answered Jonathan warily. "Might last me for years. Months at the very least. What are you doing here?"

"I made you an offer before, which you said you would consider. I have come now to see if you have decided anything."

The blue-eyed man straightened himself. "What if I said no thank you, I'm going back to England?"

Ardeth raised and eyebrow and responded, "I would say that I wish you would reconsider, but if you are sure to remember that the desert is always open to you and I will be here waiting."

"Then there's no time limit? It's not if I go, that's it, I made the wrong choice?"

The Med-jai stepped closer to Jonathan. "In life, there are many choices. Some you only have for short time. Some you can only chose when you are ready. If you are not ready to find yourself, then nothing can force you to do so. There is no wrong choice. There is only the choice that is right for you at the time you make your decision."

Jonathan chewed his bottom lip. While he was thinking, Ardeth allowed his gaze to wander over the man. He was, the Med-jai decided for the hundredth time since meeting him, a very handsome man. He had always drawn Ardeth physically; now he called to the Med-jai spiritually as well, a thirsty soul who needed relief.

He wondered if Jonathan could ever feel the same way, or if Ardeth was wasting himself on dreams.

"Can I bring my diamond?" Jonathan asked.

A smile touched the Med-jai's lips. "You may bring what you wish, but remember this: it is a hard life. We often move to new locations as the need arises. I would recommend bringing only what you need."

"Won't I need this?"

He shook his head.

Jonathan swayed from side to side as if wrestling with something, before saying, "All right! Wait, no! Yes, I'll go."

The Med-jai took another step to Jonathan, reaching a hand out. "Are you sure?"

The blue eyes stared at him for a long moment, confusion churning in their cool depths, before he took a deep breath, dropped the diamond in the sand, and placed his hand in Ardeth's. "Yes. I am sure," he said with more conviction in his voice than the dark warrior had ever heard from him.

He closed his hand around the slender one and squeezed. "Good."

* * *

"You're what?" Evy exclaimed, looking at her brother through wide eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Jonathan said, "I'm not going back to England. I'm staying here. With the Med-jai." He glanced at Ardeth, who was standing silently in the corner. "With Ardeth."

"I don't understand," his sister said, running a hand through her hair. "Why?"

"Let's face it, sis, I'm only in the way at home. An unwanted house guest. I'm sure you and Rick won't mind me gone."

"That's not true, Jonathan," Rick told him.

The blue eyed man turned his gaze to the American. "Isn't it? Yes, I'm family, and you don't hate me, but I'm not . . .you don't respect me very much. Not that I blame you. I don't respect me very much either."

"Jonathan, I res. . ."

Jonathan held a restraining hand out at his brother-in-law. "Please, Rick. You don't treat me like you respect me. You are affectionate to me; after all, we have been through life and death together." He smiled ruefully before turning sister. " And you are married to my sister; we are family. But it doesn't end that, in the end, you treat me much as you do Alex."

Rick opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked away from Jonathan, eyes on the ground.

"Rick, please believe me that I blame you for nothing. You only treat me as I behave."

Evy shook her head and murmered,"Oh, Jonathan."

Stepping back from his sister, thinking it better to distance himself, Jonathan said, "This could be the stupidest thing I've ever done, but I have to do it. It's never going to get better at home. I'm never going to change as long as everything I need is right there; as long as you are there to clean up my mess. You don't deserve that, you have lives of your own. You have a child of your own, you shouldn't have to take care of me on top of everything. Not when there is a chance that I can change, no matter how slight."

The young woman went to him. Jonathan took a half-step back but she was determined. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him tightly. "We swore to take care of each other, Jonathan. I promised to take care of you."

"You've done your job, Evy. I can't say that I've followed up on my end of the bargain. But you've always kept yours," he whispered. "Just let me go."

She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. After studying them for a moment, she nodded once and kissed his cheek. Then, she walked over the Med-jai warrior. "Take care of him," Evy told him, her voice serious. "I'm entrusting you with his life. Please believe that if anything happens, you will have to answer to me."

Ardeth bowed to her, then looked into her eyes. "I swear on all that I hold dear that I will let nothing harm him."

Evy nodded, her chin trembling slightly. "Well. What are you going to take? You didn't bring much, but you'll need something. Clothes. Your diamond, I suppose."

"No. I won't need the diamond."

Both Evy and Rick blinked in surprise. "You sure, buddy?" Rick asked. Jonathan set his mouth. "I am sure."

Evy cocked her head, studying him. "We're going to keep it for you. If . .when . . if," she threw her hands into the air, obviously not sure which would be more accurate before continuing, "On the chance you return, you'll need money. If you like, we can sell it and put the money in the bank."

"If you . . ..that might be. .. .yes. Thank you." Then, suddenly very uncomfortable, Jonathan went to Evy kissed her gently, then shook Rick's hand. "Good-bye." He left the room abruptly.

Evy and Rick looked at Ardeth, who shrugged. "I was willing to wait until tomorrow. But perhaps this is best."

"Be careful with him. He's been badly hurt," Evy said. "I've never known what to do for him. I hope you will."

"I will try. Allah protect you both." Ardeth bowed once more and went after Jonathan.

* * *

It was dark before Ardeth finally called a halt to his and Jonathan's journey. They set up camp, lighting a fire and rolling out their bedrolls, before sitting down to eat. Jonathan had kept up a steady litany of complaints since leaving Cairo. He had hit everything at least twice, in the Med-jai's estimation, from being weary from the last weeks events to his dislike of the heat to being saddle sore. The only positive thing he had said so far was, "Well. At least it's not a camel. I hate camels," and patted his horse almost affectionately.

Ardeth let him complain without interruption. Part of him hoped that without having any response, Jonathan would eventually stop. The other part realized that it was a defense mechanism for the Englishman. He was so afraid of fading into obscurity or being left behind, he had excuses ready for it people were to leave him.

"Well, see, they couldn't stand my complex set of needs," the Med-jai could imagine him saying. "I push people way with my neediness. I could hardly expect anyone to stay."

The dark warrior suspected strongly that Jonathan was trying to force Ardeth to send him away to spare himself of the abandonment he believed would come. Ardeth refused to be baited.

"And now it's bloody cold out," the blue eyed man groused. "How do you people live out here? The weather is beastly, hot as hell all day, cold all night." He pulled a silver flask from his pocket.

"We have adapted to our environment," Ardeth answered evenly. Then, keeping his gaze steady on the fire before him, he asked, "Do you really need that?"

Jonathan stopped the flask half way to his lips. "What? Oh, this?"

"Yes."

"I think I do, yes." He took a defiant sip.

"No man should need the contents of that flask. In the desert, water is the bringer of life, not the substance you imbibe."

"Ah, but water does not contain what I want from a drink. This does."

Ardeth's dark eyes met Jonathan's. "And what is that?"

A bitter smile played along Jonathan's lips. "Forgetfulness. It washes away pain." He sighed and looked away. "You're going to make me leave it, aren't you?"

"I cannot make you leave anything you do not wish. But I will tell you this: unless you face your pain, you will never overcome it. If you truly want to find yourself, you must let go of that which makes you forget and throw yourself into your memories."

"I don't know if I can," Jonathan whispered.

Ardeth moved until he was kneeling in front of the blue-eyed man. Gazing earnestly into his eyes, the Med-jai swore, "You will not be alone in this. I will be there to help you."

"And to hold me if I cry?" he replied, scorn and disbelief dripping from his words.

"Yes," answered Ardeth simply.

Jonathan's eyes widened and he pulled away. "I'm tired. I think I'll turn in."

Ardeth rose and nodded. "That is a wise decision. Good-night, Jonathan." Turning, he went to his bedroll and laid down. His companion was clearly frightened and unnerved. The Med-jai felt he should probably distance himself for now. He wanted the Englishman to know that he cared and wanted to help, but if he allowed himself to get too close, it would become harder to control his impulses. What he wanted most to do was to pull Jonathan to him, to ravish his lips and lay claim to his body.

But the time was not right. That would come later, when Jonathan was ready.

He hoped.

Ardeth closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing his body to relax. Just as the first hints of sleep began curling around his senses, he heard Jonathan say, very quietly, "Good night, Ardeth."

* * *

The cool morning air caressed Jonathan's face, calling him into wakefulness. He opened his eyes and gazed at the sky. The sun had not yet risen, but he instinctively knew it was close to dawn. After spending so many nights sleeping under the stars, Jonathan had discovered that there was a different feel to morning than night. Nights felt heavier, more secret. Night was the perfect time for hiding. Morning, however, were the opposites. Mornings were designed for waking and renewing, for coming out of hiding and facing things.

Like the truth.

Sighing, Jonathan sat up and glanced at his companion. Ardeth was sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his head, the other on his stomach. His eye lashes were so long they rested on his cheeks. A lock of his dark hair was on his forehead; Jonathan's impulse was to crawl over and brush it off, then kiss the proud forehead, then both eyes, trailing down to those lush, full lips. . .

He broke off that line of though abruptly. Shaking himself, he rose and grabbed his flask from it's position by his head. With one last glance at Ardeth, he left the camp, heading out into the miles of sand.

"Damn him," Jonathan muttered, uncapping the flask. It had been two days since Ardeth had suggested he leave the flask behind and in those two days, Jonathan found himself consumed with guilt each time he sipped from his flask. He didn't want to disappoint his friend, but found the urge hard to ignore. Many times he had brought it to his lips, preparing to drink when his eyes would land on the Med-jai. Each time, he swore he didn't care, that he needed it. And each time, he felt worse and worse.

It was a change from his usual behavior. Traditionally, he started each day with a small sip of bourbon. It was a ritual almost: wake, roll over, grab drink, gulp down, then get ready to face the day. Usually, he was ready after four or five more.

He knew he shouldn't, but couldn't help it. No one had ever really tried to stop him before. Oh, Evy had, once or twice, hesitantly suggested that perhaps, just maybe, it wasn't the healthiest thing to do. After all, Father had never . . .

"Oh, but Father had, dear sister," the blue eyed man said aloud to the listening air. He sat on top of a dune, gazing dully at the land below him. "Father most definitely did."

Jonathan and Evy father had been the model of propriety and sobriety. Nothing stronger than wine had ever passed his lips, and then only on special occasions.

"A sober mind is a clear mind," he used to say. Usually he would then pull his children to him in a bear hug and tell them that he knew when they grew up, they would make choices that were good for them. "You don't have to follow my example. I just show you how I find best to live life. You find the best way to live yours."

The Englishman sighed, gazing at the silver flask sadly. Only once in his life had he seen his father drink. It was right after his mother had died in childbirth. Right after Jonathan had helped her get killed.

He remembered searching the house for his father, after he had returned to find his beloved wife dead. Father was in the study, steadily drinking. When Jonathan had gone in he had . . .

"No," Jonathan said out loud, jerking violently. He refused to be draw into the memory. Not here, not now.

The first time Jonathan had ever drunk. . . "The day of Father's funeral," he said aloud. "Fifteen years old." He smiled bitterly, regarding the flask.

It had been hard to stop after that. He had gotten into the habit of imbibing a bit every morning, just to get out of bed. Even when he had been enjoying things - school, study, books - for that oh so brief period, he had needed the drink to keep the demons away. A bit in the morning and a bit more at night. Soon, he had been an official drunk, not able to start the day without quite a few drinks.

And all the while, he knew that he was running his life. He could see it in the faces of his friends - the one's that wanted him to succeed, not the one's he spent the days at the pubs with. He could see it in Evy's face, hear it in her words. People worried and still Jonathan could not stop. There was never a reason.

"Alex," he mused, then shook his head. For two months after Alex was born, he didn't drink but easily slipped back into old habits. As much as he loved the child, with his arrival there had been even less room for Jonathan. He had found himself increasingly being shut out by Evy and Rick. They hadn't meant to, but they were parents whose lives centered around their child. It was the only natural thing for them to do.

Jonathan was trusting Ardeth not to forget him. He was trying to have no illusions about what he would face in the desert. The Med-jai was the chief of his tribe; undoubtedly, he would not have much time to lavish attention on Jonathan. But, that wasn't necessarily what he needed. He just needed a change of pace and a change of life style if only for a while.

He turned his attention back to the flask. He'd depended on it for so long and now Ardeth, who seemed to genuinely want to help him, had all but told him that Jonathan needed to leave it behind. Of course, deep down, Jonathan had known that, he just needed to hear it aloud.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. "I can do this. Ardeth seems to think I can. I . . .I can't trust myself so I'll have to trust him."

He lifted the flask to his lips and took just enough of the substance inside to wet his tongue. It tasted bitter on his tongue. He leaned over and spit it out before pouring the amber liquid into the sand. When the flask was empty, he threw it into the endless desert.

That done, Jonathan rose, dusted himself off, took a deep breath, and headed back to camp.

Back to Ardeth.

* * *

That night, Jonathan had his first nightmare.

It was late at night, very close to morning. Ardeth had no way of knowing, disoriented as he was. One moment, he had been peacefully asleep, then the silence of the night had been broken by tortured cry.

Heart pounding, the Med-jai leapt to his feet, sword in hand, ready to face danger.

"No, please," he heard Jonathan cry.

There was no one near the Englishman. Understanding dawned. Putting down his sword, Ardeth walked to the tossing and turning form. Struggling with some invisible force, he rolled onto his side, curling into a ball, hiding his face in the bedroll beneath him.

The Med-jai knelt next to him. "Jonathan," he whispered, sliding his hand up the other man's back. "Wake up."

Jonathan jerked awake, gasping for air. His eyes flew open and he rolled over, sitting up at the same time. As he did, his fist flew out, connecting with Ardeth's jaw.

The larger man, taken off guard, fell onto his back in the sand. Jonathan followed, pinning him to the ground.

"My friend!" the Med-jai said loudly, sliding his hand between his and Jonathan's body. "It's me."

"Ardeth?" the blue-eyed man gasped, blinking in confusion. He held himself up by a palm pressed against Ardeth's chest, directly over the Med-jai's heart. "What .. . what's happening?"

Ardeth smiled slightly. "You were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up." The smile turned rueful. "You attacked."

A flush came over Jonathan's face. "I'm sorry. I. . .I didn't mean to hurt you."

"No harm done."

For a moment, neither man moved, but stayed as they were, bodies pressed together, gazing into each other's eyes.

Tentatively, Ardeth raised his hand to Jonathan's face. The other man froze as gently he traced the Englishman's face with his knuckles.

"What troubles your dreams, my friend?" he asked quietly.

Jonathan closed his eyes, leaning into the caress. "Nothing."

"Nothing makes you cry out. Makes you cry?" His thumb followed a path made by a tear, from eye to cheek.

"Yes. Nothing." Pulling back, Jonathan turned away.

Ardeth sat up and gazed at his friends tense form. He sighed. "Jonathan, why are you here?"

"What?"

"Why are you here? With me? In the desert? Away from you home, your friends, and family."

Jonathan sighed. "I couldn't go back. They don't need me, nor do they deserve the burden they have in me. And you're my only real friend - except for Alex."

The Med-jai was both annoyed and pleased at Jonathan's response. Annoyed because, once again, the man was both undervaluing himself and lying, pleased because he considered Ardeth a friend.

"Is that the entire reason you came?" he asked, placing his hands on Jonathan's shoulders and massaging gently.

The English man drew in a sharp breath, stiffening, before relaxing slightly, allowing the fingers to dig into his muscles, forcing them to relax. "No. Not the whole reason. I came to . . .to see if I could . . .find myself again."

"That is right. And how can you do that if you do not explore the painful parts of your past?"

Jonathan shook his head. "It's too hard. I . . .I can't."

"Don't you trust me?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes?" Jonathan replied hesitantly.

"Then tell me." Ardeth sat on his knees and, wrapping his arms around Jonathan, managed to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you . . ."

"Trust me." The Med-jai slipped Jonathan's shirt off, then had him lay on his stomach on his bedroll. Once the blue-eyed man was positioned, he began once more to massage the tense and tired muscles in Jonathan's back. "Tell me what your dream was about."

Haltingly, Jonathan began to speak. "It was about my mother. About her death."

"How did she die?"

"Childbirth. Sort of. We . . .my father was on a dig. He was just supposed to be gone for two weeks. There was this . . .scroll or something, papyrus that he had been looking for forever. My mother was seven months pregnant; he thought it would be fine. He left me in charge. I remember him passing on the duty, telling me to stand tall and strong against any enemies, to protect mother and Evy, that sort of thing.

"Everything was fine until these men broke into the house. They wanted, I don't know, everything. But especially the money and trinkets in the safe. My mother . . .she was putting us to bed, Evy and me. She was reading us a story and she heard something fall downstairs. She told us to stay where we were, not to come out of the room for any reason until she said it was ok." He stopped talking, pressing his face into the blanket beneath him.

"Jonathan? What happened?" Ardeth asked, curious and worried.

"They hit her. A lot. She was wouldn't tell them the combination and then, once they hurt her, she couldn't. She couldn't talk. I left Evy, but I was scared. They hit me, but I told them. Took them to the safe. After they got the stuff, they hit me a few more times and kicked my mother as they left. In the stomach. Not that it matter because she was already having contractions and bleeding. She bled to death. I couldn't save her."

"How old were you?"

Jonathan sat up, throwing Ardeth off him. His cheeks were wet with tears. "Does it matter? I let them kill her! I should never have listened. . . I was in charge. I should have . . ."

Ardeth took Jonathan's face between his hands. "You were a child. It was not your fault. Surely your father. . ."

"My father threw his drink at me. I walked into the study on the day of her funeral. After she had been buried. He yelled at me, threw his glass at me. It hit me in the head. He was so angry at me."

"And drunk, I take it." Ardeth rubbed his thumbs on the underside of Jonathan's jaw. "You of all people should know that people are not always in control when they are drunk. Did he ever say anything else?"

A few tears spilled from those incredibly blue eyes. He shook his head. "He said he was sorry. That he didn't mean it. That he didn't want to lose me. But . . .but he never said it wasn't my fault. He never forgave me."

Ardeth rested his forehead against Jonathan's. "How can I make you understand? Jonathan, listen to me. You were a child. You reacted as a child would when his mother was in danger. Yes, your father placed you in charge, but I am certain he never meant for the burden of this to be placed on you. Perhaps he never forgave you because he never blamed you."

Jonathan sniffed a few times, closing his eyes. His hands were in a death grip on Ardeth's arms and he had begun to rock slowly.

"Jonathan," Ardeth whispered. "Come back to me, please."

"It was my fault. Wasn't it? I . . . I heard her screaming and was so very afraid. I couldn't do anything and Evy was cry and holding that little doll of hers. And then, I heard *the * scream. The one, oh God," his voice caught, "the one that I knew something horrible had happened. And I went to them. But I was too late and I couldn't save her."

"And now you think you were God? To halt the course of a fatal injury?"

"Well, no," Jonathan admitted. He opened his eyes. "I just wish I could have done something."

"You kept her children safe. You saved her daughter and her beloved son. I am sure she died with that small peace of mind."

Ardeth could see his words had and impact. The blue eyes looked confused at first, then brightened slightly as understanding dawned.

"I never thought of it like that."

"It is the only way to look at that memory." He pulled Jonathan into his arms, embracing him tightly. "Do not blame yourself for life's trials. Learn from them, remember them, but do not force yourself into them. Memories are the past and should not hold us imprisoned, but guide us along our path of life. Let the memory be your companion, not your jailer."

Jonathan relaxed into Ardeth's embrace, his breathing growing heavy. "I will. Thank you."

The Med-jai hesitated a moment, then planted as kiss in Jonathan's hair. "You are welcome, my friend."

* * *

"Oh, look who is finally back. The great Med-jai chieftain," a woman greeted Ardeth and Jonathan as they rode into the oasis camp the next day.

Ardeth smiled and dismounted, taking the woman into his arms. "Zia, light of my night, how are you?"

She kissed his cheek and pulled away. "I am well, brother. And you?"

He nodded. "Very well. I would like you to meet Jonathan Carnahan. Jonathan, this is my sister, Zia."

The Englishman slid from his horse, gazing at the diminutive beauty in wonder. "How do you do?"

The young woman cocked her head, looking at Jonathan with a hint of confusion in her eyes. She glanced back at her brother before she responded to him in English, "Welcome to our camp." Then, switching back to Arabic, she asked her brother, "Is he the reason you left so quickly?"

Ardeth lowered his eyebrows. "I told you that was where I was going."

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Your exact words were, 'Horse! Now, please, I must have a horse! Thanks you
I'llbebackinafewdaysImustgoandget....' And then the rest was drowned out because you were galloping away." She grinned at her brother, then turned back to Jonathan. "You must be hungry and thirsty after your journey. Please, come to our tent and refresh yourself. Would you like some water?"

"Yes, thank you," Jonathan responded in accented Arabic.

Zia smiled and extended her hand, leading him to the tents.

Ardeth followed them, gazing at Jonathan through worried eyes. His friend had been quiet all day. On waking in each other's arms, the blue eyed man had simply extracted himself and packed his belongings. He did not seem upset, merely contemplative. Ardeth had let him be, but now, once again, he was struck by the oddness in Jonathan's behavior. He had never seen him so unsure before. Or rather, he had never seen Jonathan unsure and not cover it with a thousand complaints, a joke, or a drink.

He hoped this was a good sign.

* * *

The sun was setting over the oasis. Ardeth, clean and rested, sat under a tree, watching the sun set. Zia sat next to him.

"You friend fell asleep. He's in the tent."

"Good. He's had a long journey," answered Ardeth.

His sister looked at him. "And you have not?"

"Not as hard as he has."

"Men," the woman scoffed. "You faced down the army of Anubis, did not pause long enough to kiss me hello before racing across the desert for some Englishman, and you claim your journey was not hard. You, my brother, are crazy."

Ardeth shifted so he was looking at his sister. "He is not just some Englishman as you call him. He has faced the creature twice and survived, as well as survived the Scorpion King. Jonathan is not a man to take lightly."

Zia took a moment before answering, "Forgive me, brother. I misspoke." She paused. "Why have you brought him?"

"He needs. . ." Ardeth trailed off, seeking to find words to explain. Shifting so he was more comfortable seated, he said, "He is a bruised man. Not broken; he still has spirit. But hurt. He has done much for me and our people, facing down the creature. I have told you of his bravery."

"Yes, you have."

The Med-jai chief glanced at her, trying to find any hidden meaning in her tone or eyes. Finding none, he told her, "I want to help him heal."

"Ah." Zia thought about it for a moment. "A difficult task."

"Only the weak look for easy tasks. I am prepared. I hope."

She quirked an eyebrow. "For you sake, I hope as well." Then, looking away, she said, "The other chieftains wish to speak to you. They respectfully request all the tribes meet at Hamanaptra at the full moon. That is twenty days away."

The Med-jai chief nodded, eyes serious. "Yes. We do need to meet. Changes have been made; the creature is no longer in his resting place. We must decide how we are to proceed." He sighed. "Twelve tribes, nine sacred places to watch, and now, perhaps, one more." Running his hands through his hair, he shook his head. "Our duties grow larger by the minute it feels."

"This Jonathan may be bruised, but you are tense," Zia said. "You never relax for a moment, do you?"

He looked at her. "I have been given a sacred position. I take it very seriously. We watch not only the creature, but several other sacred or cursed places as well. If the creature is no longer at Hamanaptra, perhaps we should change what we guard and when we have people guard it."

"But that will keep for tonight. Eat and go to bed. That is an order, brother." Zia rose. "Tell me, did you take any time when you went for him in the city to . . .visit any places?"

She said it as delicately as she could and Ardeth still flushed with embarrassment and anger at her insinuation and inquiry.

"Jonathan wished to leave as soon as we told his family," he answered shortly.

The young woman said nothing, but rose abruptly. "Well, then. Go to sleep and, for once, look to yourself. For the first time in your life, you had the option to just relax. For twenty-eight days, you could have simply been Ardeth Bey, man and brother. Instead, you have taken on a new mission, one that could prove to be impossible. If you cannot simply *be* until you must represent the tribe to all the chiefs, then at least take tonight. For yourself." Her eyes glowed with passion and anger as she spoke, her voice full of something that sounded almost like sadness.

Ardeth closed his eyes and nodded, hearing the wisdom and truth in his sister's words. "I will do as you say, my sister."

* * *

Jonathan jerked out of his nightmare, trying to cry out but failing. Panicked, he sat up. The hand covering his mouth fell away.

"Don't make a sound," a voice said in the darkness from beside him.

"What?" he whispered, turning. "Zia?"

The young woman nodded, and moved into the dim light of the moon so Jonathan could see her more clearly.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"You were having a nightmare, I suppose. Saying words in your sleep. I could hear you. I did not want you to wake Ardeth, so I came."

The Englishman shivered as the night air hit the sweat drying on his skin. "I am sorry. I didn't realize I was making any noise."

Her face softened. "It is all right. Are you well?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it? When I was young I used to have horrible nightmares. I would dream the creature had arise and was coming for me. Sometimes I would be ill after. Talking usually made me feel better."

Jonathan sighed. "I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh, no. I don't . . .Please understand, my brother is very important to me and my people. He was chosen to be our chief very young, when he was twenty-five. Ardeth is a skilled warrior and, even better, is a skilled leader. But he takes so much on himself. You are here with him. He wants to take care of you. I just wanted to allow him one night before he resumes the mantel of everything. Do you understand?"

"I think so." He ran a hand through his hair. "I still don't understand why he asked me to come. He says he wants to help me, but I don't know why."

"I am sure he has his reasons." Zia sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"If you don't mind me asking," the blue-eyed man said hesitantly, "but. . .most women I have seen here go about veiled and their hair covered. None of the women in camp do."

"You want to know why. Many people often do." Zia sat back, her dark eyes growing dreamy. "The tale is told that has been passed down for generation. It tells of two lovers from this tribe, Nakia and Kadar. They were born on the same day, within the same hour to two women who were the best of friends. From the childhood, they were constant companions. Soul mates. It is said that they could complete each others sentences and that, often, when one was stuck on how to say something, the other would provide the perfect words.

"Naturally, they fell in love."

"Of course," Jonathan said, smiling gently.

Zia returned his smile before her face grew serious. "They wished to marry but Nakia's father chose another man for her husband. This man was older, a brave warrior named Jamal. He was the chief's right hand man and some said that one day, if Allah took the chief from them, he would take his place. Nakia was to wed Jamal on the eve of her sixteenth birthday.

"She and Kadar tried to persuade her father to allow them to marry. But Kadar had not yet proven himself in battle. Nakia's father was fond of Kadar, but he wanted the world for his daughter. And, unfortunately that world did not include Kadar. Love, he said, would come with age and wisdom, not in the first flush of youth.

"The day of her birth and wedding day drew near and Nakia despaired."

"What happened?"

"Many people over the centuries have tried to gain the secrets of Hanamptra. On the fateful day, the once that Nakia and Kadar had looked to with dread and sorrow in their hearts, the one that would split them forever, Hamanaptra was once again breeched. The Med-jai took to their horses and raged against the invaders who sought to raise the creature whom we have guarded for centuries.

"Kadar and Jamal were there, fighting side by side. The women were left to wait on the cliff overlooking the battle, bearing the water and supplies for the men, keeping an eye out for wounded. Nakia stood on the edge of the cliff, her hands to her heart," Zia demonstrated, "squinting against the sun, trying to find a glimpse of her lover.

"For thousands of years the Med-jai have watched over the City of the Dead and never have we been so close to losing it as we were that day. You see, the Med-jai are divided into twelve tribes. Over the years, many sites have arisen that need protection and guarding. At all times, nine tribes are occupied, two go where they are needed, and one stays near a town, gathering supplies and intelligence. Messengers go from tribe to tribe, spreading news; falcons such as my brother's Horace also speed communication. In this way, the call for help can spread quickly.

"But on this day, help could not come soon enough. The Med-jai were losing, overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The warriors fought bravely, but it was not enough.

"Nakia watched them from the cliff, scanning for a glimpse of her love. She saw her father, bleeding, fighting proudly. She saw Jamal killing. She saw men, oh so many of them, dying.

"And then she saw Kadar. She saw him fight, falter, and fall.

"She cried out in despair only to see him rise. He was not dead, only injured. And still the enemy closed in around the Med-jai.

"Then, Nakia could watch no longer. Instead, she sprang into action. Leaping to a horse, she commanded two of the women to go quickly to the nearest tribe and spur them along. And then, she turned her horse to the battle. Ripping off her veil, Nakia gave a war cry that shook the very heavens and rode into battle.

"It is said that the hand of Allah reached down and touched her that day, for never had Nakia touched a sword. Yet, she wielded one as if she had been born with it. Fighting fiercely, she breathed new life into her tribe, rallying them around her. She managed to save Kadar, getting him to safety before leaving him and returning to battle. She saved her father, she saved Jamal, and she helped defend Hamanaptra from the invaders until help arrived.

"After the battle, Jamal gave her to Kadar, saying that any woman who was willing to face death deserved to be with the man she loved. And, ever since that day, women have been allowed to marry who they wish and allow anyone they chose to gaze upon their face, walking always in the light." Finishing her story, Zia sat back on her heels, gazing down at the blue-eyed man.

"Is the story true?" Jonathan asked, fascinated.

Zia shrugged. "It is as true as we have believed it to be."

Jonathan moved so he was lying on his stomach, looking out into the night. "Are you angry that I am here?"

She sighed. "Not angry. Just . ..I am not sure. My brother has spoken of you and your family often in the years since you met."

"Not me. Most likely Rick and Evy."

"No, you." She seemed confused at his statement. "I think I can remember my brother's words well enough to fit you to his description. You were the thin Englishman with the lovely smile and eyes of sapphires. As far as I can remember, this Rick is American and Evy is the lovely woman with strength beyond her years. Only you fit the other description. Beside, he did say your name."

Jonathan looked up at her. "Eyes of sapphires?"

She shrugged. "His words, not mine. They are his favorite jewel. Our mother had some, a wedding gift from my father." She was silent for a moment before asking, "Why didn't you believe it when I said he spoke of you?"

"I am nothing special. Why should he speak of me?"

"He has always spoken of you as if you were something special. Not a warrior, but a brave man." Zia thought a moment. "It sounds to me that he sees something in you that you do not. I think you need to open your eyes to the truth."

The Englishman smiled wryly. "That's why I am here."

She smiled back. "Well good." Then, in Arabic, she told him, "I hope the desert winds force your eyes open."

He laughed quietly. "I just hope the truth does not scorch them," he responded in her language.

Her teeth gleamed in the darkness as her smile grew. "Good night, Jonathan."

"Good night. And thank you," Jonathan replied, stretching as he watched her leave. When he closed his eyes once more, his heart was, for the moment, lighter.

* * *

Jonathan fell almost easily into life at the Med-jai camp. Everything there was so very different from anything he had ever experienced. Work at the camp was not an option, it was a requirement. Everyone had to pull his or her weight. Not that anything too hard was required of him, but Jonathan was given a set of duties to perform every day.

Truthfully, he was grateful. Every morning he was responsible for walking the perimeter make sure everything was secure. Animals, people, everything. Ardeth had given him this job their second day. Jonathan suspected it was so he could meet everyone quickly and become more comfortable with their language. As a child, Jonathan had had an ear for languages. By the time he was twelve, he could speak three, English, French, and Arabic, as well as read ancient Egyptian. Over the years, he had grown rusty since he rarely spoke or read anything but English. However, he knew enough to communicate and the more he spoke, the more he remembered. So, if that had been Ardeth's intentions, it worked on both accounts.

The first day he had made his way slowly, smiling silently at everyone as he passed. The next day, as he walked, children began following him, most gazing silently as he made his round. The day after that, one child was elected to actually approach him.

"Your eyes are a strange color," he had said.

Unsure of what to say, Jonathan had simply answered, "Yes. But not from where I am from. Many people have blue eyes."

"Do you all get eyes that color from staring at the sky for too long?"

"No. . ." he began to answer, then, suddenly, a strange explanation tumbled out of his lips, "Have you ever seen a rainbow? A stream of colors that appears over water when the light hits it right?"

The children nodded, walking closer.

Jonathan crouched, bringing himself to their level. "Well, once, long ago in my country people had two colors of eyes: dark brown like yours, and clear. The brown eyed people made fun of those with clear eyes because they had no expression. They looked strange, like a mirror. So, one day, a brave young boy and girl grew tired of having eyes with no color. They wanted to have beautiful eyes such as yours. In my country, water often falls from the sky; sometimes, rainbows appear. On this day, a very large rainbow was stretched across the sky. The boy and girl went to either end of the rainbow, took hold and tugged on the colors. The blue slid to the boy; he quickly stuffed it into his bag. Green when to the girl. After they had captured the color, they ran around, spreading the color to everyone with clear eyes. Soon, everyone had different color and shade of eyes so everyone could have expression and beauty equally, not just the brown eyed people."

The children's eyes had grown quite large Jonathan told his makeshift story. Standing behind them were adults of various ages, listening just as attentively.

After a silence, during which Jonathan began to feel like an absolute fool, a woman asked, "Was it you and your sister?"

The Englishman looked up and blushed slightly. The woman had an amused mile on her face, her eyes dancing as she teased him gently. "No. We were too busy reading about Egypt to steal the rainbow."

"Is it true you fought the evil creature?" another child asked. Rising, Jonathan took her hand. "Well, not personally, but I've seen him."

"Tell us!"

"Why don't we save that story for tomorrow? I don't want to overwhelm you with everything all at once."

Each day after that, Jonathan told the children a story. Soon, all the children followed him on his rounds around the camp. He quickly learned to stop at a different location every day. The adults were as eager to hear his stories as the children only they were not free to move about as the young ones did. So, Jonathan, taking that into consideration, kindly sought a different group every day so everyone could hear him.

The only person who didn't hear the tales were Ardeth. When ever he approached Jonathan while he was telling stories, Jonathan found his tongue no longer worked. Ardeth was so. . .majestic and grave; Jonathan felt childish when caught telling his horrible stories. He didn't want the older man to laugh at him.

Having something to do not only helped the time pass quickly and aid in Jonathan getting to know everyone in camp; it also helped him through his worst cravings for alcohol. The cravings had started the day he had gotten rid of his flask and felt as if they were growing steadily worse. Still, he fought them. It helped that there was nothing stronger than coffee to drink in camp so there was nothing to tempt him to drink. The activity helped as well.

Soon after he arrived, Jonathan shed his normal clothes for the cooler garb of the natives. He did not wear the Med-jai warrior black, of course, but adopted robes similar to what the others wore.

He found it strange, out in the desert. Life was different, harder at times yet simpler. No one seemed to have expectations of him beyond that he work side by side and contribute to the group. No one looked at his with disappointment and sadness in their eyes. No one seemed disgusted when he found he could not do something. No one seemed angry when he messed up. All they did was smile patiently and ask to help him which, wanting to be helpful, Jonathan always allowed.

As for Ardeth, his feelings for the man grew every day. What had started out as mere attraction had quickly blossomed into something more. The Med-jai was magnificent, strong, sure, a true leader. Jonathan watched in awe as Ardeth gave council to his people, preparing for the coming journey to Hamanaptra, as well as dealing with day to day difficulties.

Jonathan wished he knew what to say to Ardeth about his feelings, but was afraid. It was bad enough he felt them without knowing if they were appropriate. In England Jonathan knew that while men often fell in love with other men, it was looked down by the society at large. Out here, he had no idea. He doubted that Ardeth would be offended if Jonathan admitted his feelings, but there was that touch of fear. Not to mention that he had no idea if his feelings were even reciprocated. At times if felt as if the Med-jai maybe, just perhaps, returned his affections. After all, he often touched or hugged Jonathan. And sometimes, when he looked at him, Ardeth's eyes were so dark and mysterious, sending shivers though him. . .

But, no. It was impossible. Jonathan could not bring himself to believe that someone such as Ardeth Bey would want someone such as himself. After all, what was he? A pathetic drunk - well, not any more. A poor man - except that didn't matter here, did it? A coward - except Ardeth had claimed that Jonathan was anything but. Oh, right; he was lost; someone who had lost his way and sense of self. That was it.

Except Ardeth had volunteered to help find him again.

And yet, it was still too fantastic to believe. After all, he was just a simple man when it came down to it and Ardeth Bey was a warrior, a born leader. It was hard to feel worthy of such a being.

Most days, Jonathan tried not to think about it. After all, he wasn't a teen-ager, subject to the whims of his wayward hormones and emotions. He was a grown man and used to being alone. The nice thing about life in the camp was that he was never really alone. He always had someone to talk to, whether that person was the youngest child in camp to the oldest warrior. And, there were times that he had himself, where he could sit off to one side, gazing into the infinite eternity of the desert, simply wrapping in his own thoughts.

Jonathan had never really spent so much time in his own mind before. He had been too afraid of what he would find. But, he was discovering, what he found was not as frightening as he had originally believed.

So, he settled into his new life comfortably. He found himself to be content. Even tentatively happy. But, a touch lonely. Because, even though he had everyone, the one person he had come to be with was often busy. Ardeth tried to devote time to him, but it was hard; the chieftain's time was scarce. But, he did try and Jonathan appreciated it more than he could say.

One day, a few weeks after arriving at camp, Jonathan was sitting by the water's edge, watching the sun set. After he had been there for a small space of time, someone sat next to him, close enough so their shoulders were touching.

"I fear I have been neglecting you, my friend," Ardeth said softly.

"No," Jonathan replied, his heart pounding. "No, not at all. You've been busy and I've . . .well, for the first time in forever, I haven't been idle." He flashed his friend a smile.

The smile was returned. "Do you like it here?"

"Very much. Thank you."

Ardeth squeezed Jonathan's hand, then let it go, turning to the setting sun. "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

The Med-jai took a deep breath. "How did your father die?"

Jonathan froze, a lump forming in his throat. His chest was so tight, he had to fight to breath. He gasped, pain shooting through his throat, radiating through his chest.

As if sensing Jonathan's state, Ardeth moved so he was in front of the English man, gazing into his eyes. "What's the matter? Jonathan?"

Fighting back memories and tears, Jonathan whispered, "Don't ask me, please. I can't . . .anything but that." He was still fighting for air as his body tried to shut down; he wanted to crawl into himself and hide, hide from the world, hide from the pain.

The Med-jai touched Jonathan's cheek, then pulled him close. "Jonathan, what happened? Please, tell me."

"No." He tried to pull away. When Ardeth refused to let go, he simply collapsed into the larger man's body, going boneless.

"Jonathan? Jonathan?" Alarmed, Ardeth shook the man in his arms, trying to rouse him.

"Leave me alone. Or stay," was the muffled reply. "Just don't ask. Please."

Moving so that he was more comfortable, Jonathan arranged in his arms, Ardeth rested his head on the hair of the man beneath him. "Very well." He kissed his hair gently, then rested his head once more.

Zia was standing on the other side of the water, gazing at the two men. When her and Ardeth's eyes met, she narrowed hers and tilted her head to the side.

Gazing at Jonathan, she mouthed, "What happened?"

Helplessly, Ardeth mouthed back, "I don't know."

Pursing her lips, she nodded and left for the camp. He could hear her voice in the background telling everyone not to disturb him. Then, blocking all that out, he concentrated on the man in his arms and heart, soothing the bruised man as best as he could.

* * *

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Ardeth opened his eyes. Jonathan lay still beside him, his hands tangled in the Med-jai's robes, face peaceful in sleep, a few tear stains on his cheeks.

Ardeth sighed softly and gently touched the man beside him. He had never expected the response he had gotten last night - an utter inability to answer the question due to some deeply set physical response. Even when speaking of his mother's death, Jonathan had tried to evade the question, but eventually given in. It had been a story he had needed and wanted to
tell to anyone who would listen.

But his response to last night's question . . .Ardeth was tempted to go to Evy and ask her, although he believed even she did not know the truth. His friend had responded too much as if he were the sole keeper of a dark secret. He had obviously buried the memory very deeply.

Sleepy blue eyes opened. When Jonathan saw whom he was lying with, he smiled. "Morning," he said sleepily, his voice slurred slightly.

"Good morning, my friend. How do you feel?"

"Like I never want to get up." Closing his eyes, he moved closer to Ardeth, resting his cheek against the dark cloth of his robes.

The Med-jai raised an eyebrow, surprised at the younger man's actions. He had suspected that Jonathan returned his feelings for some time now, but had not acted on them in case he was mistaken. There seemed to be something holding Jonathan back that made Ardeth wary as well.

This, however, was a clear sign, even if Jonathan was half asleep.

He brought his hand to Jonathan's head, running his fingers though his hair. "I too, would like to stay here indefinitely. But I fear that, eventually, we must arise and face the day."

"Bugger it. I like it here," came the muffled reply. Then, he rolled onto his back, still very close to Ardeth. "I had a dream about Evy last night. About all of them."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Jonathan was gazing up at the sky. "They were so happy. A perfect family. You know: beautiful mother, daring, handsome father, and their son. Alex is really great, you know? So smart and brave and so . . .he's got this irrepressible air around him. I hope nothing ever happens to take that away."

He was definitely awake now, Ardeth thought. And yet, he hadn't moved and his hand was tracing patterns in the sleeve of Ardeth's robe.

"Then Evy saw me. She ran over and told me how much she missed me and how much Alex missed me. Made me think for a second. See, I never really thought I mattered to them all that much and if I disappeared, they probably wouldn't worry. But now, maybe they would. Oh, not that they want me back, necessarily. Not the way I was. Not permanently." He sighed. "I think she always thought it was a phase and eventually I'd grow out of it." Jonathan bit his lip, then rolled over on his side. "After I was fifteen, I didn't do much. I drank every day. She didn't know that. But, I went to school and, for a bit, lost myself in the books. Lost myself in the past. I came back with a promising career in archeology. But I couldn't handle it. Soon, I stopped researching, stopped even trying to write. Instead, I drank and I gambled away the fortune I had been left and soon, I had nothing. And do you know what the worse part was?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Evy never kicked me out. She couldn't get a break even though she was a thousand times more an archeologist than I ever was, even when I cared. But because she was a woman, they wouldn't listen. To me, they did, until I one time I got so drunk on a dig, I ruined some fantastic artifact. And yet, even though I was a laughing stock with my career in ruin, they still let me on digs and kept turning her down. And she never took it out on me. She never asked me to leave. I guess she loves me."

Ardeth chose his words carefully. "Perhaps she realized that . . .that you had been hurt badly, beyond her ability to help, so she did all she could to take care of you." Tentatively, he reached out to stroke Jonathan's cheek, allowing it to travel down the other man's neck and back up.

The blue-eyed man smiled slightly, relaxing at the caress. "Perhaps." He was silent a moment, before saying, "In the dream she wanted me to come home. And that's when I realized something."

"And what is that?"

"I don't know where home is any longer. I don't know if I belong in England or . . . .or if I belong here."

The Med-jai's breath caught in his throat. He could not say anything, so he simply lay there, next to Jonathan, gazing at him, being with him.

"I am sorry to interrupt," Zia's voice said softly above the two men. "But it is morning and people are going to want to use the water hole. And we leave tomorrow, so there is much to be done."

Both men sat up quickly, guilty flushes on their faces. The rose and stood as far away as they could from each other without either one actually leaving the vicinity.

Zia looked from man to man and sighed in disgust. "I have breakfast ready. Neither of you ate dinner, so I suggest you eat first before doing your duties. I will be at the tents." With those last words, she flounced away.

"Perhaps we should . . . " Jonathan said.

"Yes. Let us. . ."

Neither one could finish sentence. So, looking quickly into each others eyes, they turned and went back into camp.

* * *

"You are such a liar!" Zia hissed furiously as she stalked up to Ardeth that night. She kicked sand on him for good measure.

The Med-jai leapt to his feet, alarmed. "What have I done?"

"What have you done? You . . .you lied to me! You've lied to all of us. And now. . .oooh!" Clenching her fists, she growled, shaking her body as she did.

"Zia, please. Tell me what lie I have told."

The young woman took a deep breath. Turning from her brother, she said, "It is not the lie you have told, but the truth you have neglected to tell. I knew you loved Jonathan. I did not know you were in love with him."

Ardeth, who had been reaching out to his sister, let his arm fall. "Ah. Yes."

She turned back. "Why did you never tell me . . .tell any of us? You have not taken a wife. You have never been known to have a lover. We thought it was, that it was because you would not let yourself love. We thought that you were too much involved with being our leader, that we had denied you a crucial part of your existence by electing you so young. Women and men alike have schemed in peaceful times to entice you into marriage with some young woman. And all the while, it was not those things. You love men. You love Jonathan. Why did you not tell us?"

The chieftain sighed and sank to the sand. "I did not know how. No, I have not have many lovers in my life. I have had one, and he was killed many years ago. And I do take my responsibilities seriously. That is why I do not dally with many people. My energy and my life belongs here, in the desert, focused on my sacred duty. Part of that duty is to help ensure the continuance of my people. Perhaps it is well for others to find love where they can, but I am chief. Can you honestly tell me that if I admitted my inclinations to everyone, that they would keep me as their leader?" His dark eyes sought hers.

Zia sat across from her brother. "You have faced death numerous times with these men. You have faced the creature we all fear and come back alive. You have stood in front of an army facing death and come out victorious. Your men would and have followed you into the pits of hell, into death, into eternity. They love you. You are their chosen leader and they would not forsake you simply because you chose alternate means for your happiness." She rose to her knees and put her small hand over his. "We are hardly a traditional people. Women walk around unveiled; we flirt and conspire with men as if we were equals. Every year, we gain more and more power in the camp. And there are others who are more than happy to ensure the continuance of our people." She raised her eyebrow in a slightly mocking, wholly loving expression. "The entirety of the burden need not sit soley on your shoulders. I am sure we are open minded enough to accept the love you and Jonathan share for each other."

"It was not only that. I just. . .I feel as if all my love and devotion should go to the cause."

"A cause which may now be extinct." Zia sighed. "We have never asked that of anyone. Chiefs have married - the chiefs of the other tribes are married. Why are you different?"

Ardeth closed his eyes. "Because in this life I have gazed upon the face of the creature we have feared for so long. I have been victim to his power. I have gazed into the eyes of hell and have been changed. None of the others have."

She touched his cheek gently. "So has he. Out of everyone in this world, he will understand. Underneath his casual attitude lies the heart of a wise man. I have seen him in unguarded moments, making his rounds in the morning or sitting under a tree, surrounded by children. This man you have brought here holds the secrets of the world inside him, and they trip off his tongue like honey. Did you know that?"

"He never speaks when I am around. Not of what you say. I have seen him with the children, but when I approach, he stops talking."

"Have you told him that you love him?"

"No."

Zia swore softly, before hitting her brother lightly. "Ardeth. You are my brother and I worship the ground you walk on, but sometimes, you are a great fool."

He pulled her to him, hugging her tightly. "I love you."

"Yes. I love you too, stupid."

* * *

They reached Hamanaptra two days later. They were the first tribe to arrive. After setting camp, Ardeth realized he had not seen Jonathan in quite some time. Bemused, he wandered the camp, trying to find the Englishman.

"All right, I'll take two cards," he heard Jonathan say.

The Med-jai chief followed the voice and turned the corner. Sitting comfortably in the shade of a tent was Jonathan and three other men. The were sitting in a circle, cards in hand.

"What are you doing?" Ardeth demanded as Jonathan took the two cards offered him and took two from his hand.

Jonathan and his companions looked up from their poker game. A smile of welcome broke out on the blue-eyed man's face on seeing Ardeth. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

"Just playing a game, Ardeth," Jonathan told him airily.

Ardeth was almost shaking with rage at his friend's betrayal. He had brought him out here to get away from the vice in which he had indulged all his life. Instead, he found him spreading his ways to others in the camp, allowing them to be corrupted as well.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to put words to his thoughts.

The blue-eyed man raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you sit down before you pass out." Then, turning back to the group, he said, "I believe the bet starts with you."

One of the youths in the group studied his cards for a moment, then said, "I will start with one joke."

"Call," the man next to him quickly said.

Jonathan shuffled his cards and smiled. "I'll see your one joke and raise you one embarrassing moment."

"I'm out." The man next to Jonathan folded.

The bet returned to the first youth. He was studying his cards intently, chewing on his lower lip. "I'll call your embarrassing moment," he began slowly, "and raise you one blood-chilling tale."

"I shall fold."

The bet went to Jonathan. Bemused, Ardeth sat down, watching the Englishman.

Jonathan cocked his head, studying the youth across from him. "I think you are bluffing."

"Am I, my friend?" was the cool response.

"Yes, I think you are. So I'll see your blood-chilling tale, raise you one, and throw in a heart stopping moment."

The youth's eyes widened minutely, but he said, "And I raise you . . .uh. . . a story of romance."

The Englishman smiled wickedly. "Call. Let's see what you've got."

The cards were laid out. The youth had three fives. Jonathan grinned. "Full house. Sorry, old chap, but looks like you owe me one joke, one embarrassing moment, two blood-chilling tales, one heart stopping moment, and one tale of romance."

The youth nodded. "I will do my best."

"May I speak to you first, Jonathan?" Ardeth interrupted.

"Of course. If you will excuse me." Jonathan rose in one graceful moment and followed the Med-jai chief away from the group.

Once they had reached the outskirts of the camp, Ardeth turned. "I want to apologize. I doubted you. I should not have done that."

"No, it's all right. Given my history, I'm not surprised," responded Jonathan casually. Too casually.

"No." Ardeth put his hands on Jonathan's shoulders. "Your life has begun anew here. As long as you have been here, you have done nothing that would indicate a falling back into your old pattern of life. You willingly left your home, you willingly gave up your drink, you willingly put yourself to work in camp. Since arriving, you have been a benefited to our life here and nothing should have made me believe that this would have been anything else. You, Jonathan, have adapted marvously well."

"Well, I can't say how much longer I'll be like this. No, wait," Jonathan put his hand on Ardeth's chest, stopping him from speaking. "I'm fine, really. I like it here. But I can feel myself becoming. . .homesick. The enchantment's fading a bit and I'm beginning to feel a bit displaced. The feeling of 'where do I belong?' And, it's ok, actually. I think it's normal. That after the first few thrilling days, the sense of panic sets in. Just . . .all I ask is that you don't let me do anything stupid. And that you be here with me. I know you'll be busy, what with this gathering and all, but . . .if you have time, be with me?" He said the last part hesitantly, not quite meeting Ardeth's eyes.

With a furtive glance around, Ardeth nodded, then embraced Jonathan warmly."I will always be here with you, Jonathan. No matter what happens, I will be here."

The Englishman relaxed into his friend's embrace, burying his face in Ardeth's neck. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

* * *

The next night, the twelve tribes of the Med-jai were gathered together around a large bonfire. Each tribe was seated in a clump around the fire. They were arranged in a particular order: first were the warriors, kneeling in the sand. Behind them were the elders of the tribes. Then head woman from each warrior's family. Behind them were the non-fighting members of the tribe.

Jonathan sat a little apart from Ardeth's tribe. They had welcomed him in, but he felt odd. So, he sat close, but not quite within their circle.

Everyone knew who he was; word of his presence had quickly spread throughout the entire encampment as the various tribes had arrived. All day he had found himself the object of people's attention. The warriors from other tribes had continually approached him, shook his hand and patted him on the back.

"We all thank you and your family for your bravery," one said.

Jonathan had blushed and stammered out, "Oh. . well, they did more and . . .well, I was there and . . .we thank you for your bravery. We did not do anything alone and are all well aware of that fact. Thank you."

The man had bowed in respect, which Jonathan returned. Then came the invitation/demand that Jonathan honor his family by having dinner with them the next night.

Jonathan hoped that they would be staying in Hamanaptra for a long time; he had been invited to eat so many meals that it looked as if he would never leave. He didn't want to offend anyone by saying no, but he was only one man.

Ardeth and the other chiefs stood in a circle around the fire. Behind them was the head female from their family; since Ardeth had no wife, the honor fell to Zia. The men would chant a strain which the women echoed. It was solemn and majestic. Jonathan watched them in awe.

The ceremony continued for about an hour. When they were done, the debate began.

"We will waste our time here," one of the chiefs was saying, gesturing to the invisible city of Hamanaptra. "We have guarded this city of thousands of years and now, the very reason we were guarding it is gone. We should no longer waste our time on this city. We should devote our attention to other matters."

"It is not only the creature who we guarded. There are dangers in the city, items in the treasure room that if found . . ."

"But the city has fallen!" someone interrupted. . . .Kabir, Jonathan believed the man was called. "The trap was sprung and the temple sank into the sands."

"It can still be resurrected," Jonathan found himself saying. Then, as everyone turned to look at him, he blushed and tried to pull into himself.

Ardeth held his hand out to Jonathan, obviously wanting him to join those at the fire and speak. After a moment, the Englishman obeyed.

"Speak, my friend. You have certain expertise in this area I believe."

Jonathan raised an ironic eyebrow, but only said, "Well, it is possible to raise a temple after a trap had been sprung. There isn't exactly a failsafe, but it can be dug up, eventually. One you have the structure free of the sand, there are ways raise the walls. People know that the city exists now; if there are items that you don't want people getting, I would keep an eye out here. Maybe not a constant vigil, but something."

"I agree," Ardeth said.

The Med-jai chiefs voted and decided to continue to watch the city. Next, Ardeth brought Imhoteph's changed position.

"He is now in Ahm Shere which also has been reclaimed by the desert. We know the position. I recommend that we watch there as well."

The first chief that had spoken, Habib, vigorously shook his head. "No. We cannot watch both. Only nine tribes at a time must be occupied; if we took on Ahm Shere, we would be stretched too thin."

"But the creature has risen twice in the past ten years and has twice been defeated," Kabir replied. "Should he somehow rise again . . ."

"Impossible!"

Ardeth met Habib's eyes. "I believe you thought it to be impossible that he be freed a second time." He held the other man's gaze for a moment before moving to the other's. "He has been thwarted in his quest for Annubis's army. Defeated by the O'Connells. If he were to rise again . . ."

"Actually," Jonathan said slowly, putting his hand on Ardeth's arm.

"What?"

Jonathan met the Med-jai's eyes. "They - we - they didn't exactly defeat him. Rick killed the Scorpion King, yes, but Imhotep committed suicide."

A mummer of disbelief went though the group. Ardeth, eyes on Jonathan's, covered his hand with his own. "Explain, please."

Taking a deep breath, Jonathan closed his eyes, remember the fierce battle. "It turns out, the gold stick I had was the means to killing the Scorpion King. Rick found out somehow. When I reached the chamber with Alex, Imhotep and Rick were battling this . . this creature. From the waist up, he was a man, but the rest of him was not. He was a scorpion. Neither one could get close enough to kill him. I don't remember what Imhotep was doing, but Rick . . .well, he was in trouble. The Scorpion King was strong and while Rick knows how to fight, well, he didn't have what he needed.

"When he saw me, he screamed, "It's a spear!" I didn't know what he was talking about at first, but finally he made it clear to me. Fumbling about, I tried to figure it out with Alex - Rick and Evy's child," he clarified for those around the fire who looked confused. "Finally, the latch sprung and out popped a beautiful spear made of pure gold. It was about this long," he demonstrated, "and sharp. Once it was out, I hurled it at the Scorpion King. One of the things I am good at is javelins and it was going true but, just before it got there," Jonathan thrust his arm into the air, miming what had happened, "Imhotep reached out and caught it. Then he had the means to killing the Scorpion King and even Alex and I knew that if he did, he would control the army of Annubis.

"What happened next is sort of a jumble, but, the creature threw the spear at the Scorpion King. His aim was also good but Rick managed to throw himself into the air and snag it. Before any of us knew what had happened, he lunged at the Scorpion King, skewering it through. He told it to go to hell in the typical American style and, in the manner of all evil creatures after they have been defeated, it did.

"But, as he died, the temple shook around us and began to fall. Both Rick and Imhotep fell into a crevice. Below them, was a fiery pool.

"They were hanging onto the edge, trying to crawl out. Neither could do it alone. Rick screamed at Evy to leave; he had already lost her once that day and could not bear it losing her again. But Evy's a headstrong girl and didn't listen. Instead, she ran to help.

"Inspired, Imhotep decided his woman, Anck-su-namun, could help as well. But when he called her, she would not come. Instead, with one last terrified look, she turned and fled.

"To tell you the truth, I almost felt sorry for him. The look on his face . . .imagine having the thing you desire most in the world right in front of you and you find that you can never have it." His eyes flicked to Ardeth before he continued. "Evy had gotten Rick out. Rocks were falling all around them and they stood, pressed against a column, looking down at the fallen creature. He looked up at them and smiled this strange, sad smile. Then, to my surprise, he let go, and fell deep into the abyss. So, you see, he wasn't defeated by anything except for his heart."

There was silence after Jonathan finished his tale. A hot flush enveloped his body, causing him to lower his eyes in shame. Quickly sitting, he kept his eyes on his hands which were resting silently in his lap.

There were mummers all around as the group caught its collective breath.

"So," Kabir said after a long moment, "we don't need to worry about him, then. Perhaps. Since he got his heart broken and his princess has fled, what reason does he have to live?"

"Revenge," Jonathan said quietly to his hands.

"Speak, Jonathan. So everyone can here," Ardeth prompted, putting his hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

After glancing up at Ardeth but moving his eyes before they could really make contact, Jonathan took a deep breath. "If he were to be raised again, he could try and destroy the world out of revenge. To show everyone - himself and Anck-su-namun - that he does not need her. He could be even more dangerous. I would recommend that you watch Ahm-Shere. I don't know if it can be raised, but I would not put it past anyone."

"We still don't have a spare tribe," Habib insisted.

"So, we make another tribe!" Zia exclaimed, exasperated. She rose to her feet, cheeks burning. "Oh, I know, as a superstitious people, we daren't have thirteen. Allah may strike us down, our luck may turn sour, I know the warnings. But Jonathan is right; men do strange things when in love and they do stranger things when their hearts have been broken. It is human nature. I am sure there are many ways to raise the temple, starting with contacting the god Annubis and striking a new deal. And if you think no one these days would dare, I would suggest that these days many people would dare. We need to watch both, we cannot break with the old ways because they actually work, so we need another solution. A new tribe. Or two, if you are afraid."

Everyone turned to her. "And who will lead this tribe?" Habib demanded.

"As if that is our worry. Look around you. There are capable people everywhere. I could lead a tribe. Jonathan could. True, neither of us are warriors, but we could do it." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why not a warrior from any tribe we have? We are many in people. There are plenty of warriors to form a new tribe. They have been training since birth. Even if everyone is young, then so be it. Youth is not an enemy out here as we have all seen from my brother's leadership. I say we form a new tribe to undertake new duties."

Ardeth stood beside his sister. "I believe my sister speaks in words of wisdom. But I wish to hear what others feel. This affects us all and all of us, as a united people, must decide."

Someone rose. "I have a suggestion."

"Please speak."

As the debates began, Zia knelt next to Jonathan. "Don't worry. I did not really mean you should lead it. I was simply making a point."

He breathed a sigh in relief. "Oh, good. I . . I'm not a leader. Not really."

"No, you are not a leader. You are a storyteller. Besides, I would not wish to separate you from my brother. He loves you too much to be parted like that." Then, sitting back, she turned her attention back to the group leaving Jonathan to his quiet speculation on over her words.

* * *

"Where have you been? I have not seen you all day," Ardeth asked the next evening After searching the camp, he had finally made his way down the cliff. There, about halfway down on a rock that jutted out over the sands, sat Jonathan. Ardeth carefully walked onto the rock to join him.

Jonathan, who was gazing out at the hidden city, turned and smiled slightly. "You were busy most of the day and, after a while, I needed to be alone."

"Ah." Ardeth sat beside his friend. "Thank you for you help last night. I know it is hard for you to speak out like that. At least, I had assumed it was."

"Well, that's the thing," he said softly. "It used to be. Before I came here. Since arriving, I find that I often I can't shut up. Except, when I'm around you. Then, I don't know what to say." He flashed as smile before turning away. "I am sorry that I got so carried away last night. I never meant to."

"No, it was wonderful. Thrilling, even. I did not know what had happened inside the temple. I just wish. . ." he trailed off.

"What?"

"Jonathan," the Med-jai said hesitantly, "why not for me? You tell stories to everyone, have become a favorite among the children in camp and yet, the moment I draw near, you stop. Except for last night, I have never heard you do anything like that. You have not allowed me. And now, I find that you are wonderful and I feel . . .cheated."

"Please, don't." Jonathan closed his eyes "I . . .I'm not that good. And all that . . .that story, it wasn't really needed now, was it? All I needed to say was that his girlfriend left him to die so he did. Everything else was just me getting carried away."

Ardeth forced the younger man to look at him. "It was needed. We sit out here, fight our battles, but some things never touch us. None of us would have ever known what have happened if you hadn't told us. None of us would have understood what had happened: why he allow himself to die simply because she left him, how the Scorpion King was killed, what happened. None of those questions would have been answered had you not elaborated. It is the mark of a true storyteller to be able to paint such a vivid picture with words."

"No one needs a storyteller."

Ardeth's eyes went wide. "We do. We haven't the distractions you have at home. We have no radio or professional theater or books or music. We make our own entertainment. Stories are our entertainment, to be told and treasured and passed on from generation to generation. You once asked me where everything was written; I'll tell you now, I don't know. I was told it was written, but everything has been true. It is because of storytellers such as yourself - the life's blood of a society such as ours - has kept the words alive. You, Jonathan, are a treasure. In more ways than one." His eyes turned sad and he gently touched Jonathan's cheek before sitting back. "But, once again, you seem determined to talk yourself out of something that you are not only good at, but love." Ardeth sighed and picked up a pebble, throwing it off the side of the cliff.

There was silence for a long moment before Jonathan did something that Ardeth had never expected. He took Ardeth's face between his hands and kissed him passionately on the lips.

It was a fierce, hungry kiss that was over all too soon. After the brief storm of emotion let loose, the blue-eyed man sat back, eyes wide, looking at Ardeth, waiting for a reaction.

When the Med-jai simply sat there for a long, stunned moment, Jonathan spoke. "I'm sorry," he said, guilt edging his voice. "I just. . ." He never got to finish what he was saying. Ardeth didn't want to hear. Instead, Jonathan found himself pinned under the larger man as he threw himself on Jonathan, lips searching for lips, hands plunging through fabric, tongues invading mouths.

Ardeth was through with speech, through with waiting for the right moment to enquire after his friends feelings. This was the moment.

His fingers threaded through the waves in Jonathan's hair. "I want you," he murmured hotly into Jonathan's skin.

The Englishman laughed. "Really. I couldn't tell," he responded throatily.

Ardeth's smiled trailing kisses down Jonathan's neck. "Then let me demonstrate more fully."

Eventually, Jonathan got the point.

* * *

When Jonathan opened his eyes the next morning, he found Ardeth awake, gazing at him.

The blue-eyed man smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He reached out a finger, touching Jonathan's cheek with a feather-light brush. "I fear I was a little rough. I threw you to the ground at one point, I think. You are hurt."

"What?" Jonathan touched his cheek and hissed. "Ouch. Bruise, I take it?"

Ardeth nodded. "I am sorry."

The Englishman smiled what he was certain was a lopsided grin. "Small price for a night of heaven. I cannot tell you how long I have wanted you."

"And I you." Ardeth pulled Jonathan to him, kissing him deeply.

Jonathan responded with passion, melting into his lover's body, molding against him. After a long moment, Ardeth pulled back, allowing both men to catch their breath.

"We must return to camp," the Med-jai said sadly. "There is still business to be discussed."

"Yes." Jonathan closed his eyes, breathing Ardeth in. "If you like, you can go first. I'll hang back; perhaps if I return late enough . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Ardeth interrupted.

The eyes opened. "I've noticed, you know. How you look around before you touch me sometimes. You make sure no one is watching. The only reason I can think is that you are afraid everyone will disapprove."

"They all like you, Jonathan."

"Oh, I know. Not like that. I mean. . .of us. Together. Like this."

The older man traced Jonathan's face. "I am not ashamed of you or my feelings for you. I have faced death with these men. I . ." He broke off, sighing. Then, he admitted, "Yes. You are right. I have been afraid, but not anymore." Ardeth bit his lip, thinking. "It is not forbidden, not exactly. It is not common. And I, well, I have been afraid to let anyone too close. I have always feared that to let someone in would be a betrayal to my people. Especially since I could not love a woman. I felt that I should have a wife, have children to ensure the longevity of my tribe, but could not. I cannot be with anyone I do not love. I love you, Jonathan." He smiled as he said it. "We will return to camp together."

A fierce wave of relief rushed over Jonathan, making him feel light headed. He pulled Ardeth close as a smile broke out over his face. "I love you too," he whispered. "Now and always."

An hour later, both men were dressed and walking into the already bustling camp. As they approached, the people nearest them stopped their activity, turning to look at the two men. Jonathan's steps faltered under the unreadable eyes of so many people, but Ardeth simply took his hand and continued to walk into the camp.

When they reached the people, Ardeth stopped. He stood proudly, gazing back at his people with an almost haughty expression on his face. Jonathan could do nothing but stand beside him, sweating and trying not to fidget.

He knew he could never forgive himself if Ardeth was exiled from his tribe. It was, after all, his home. His family. And who was Jonathan? Just some man that helped him out a few times. . .sort of. Just some man who was in love with him. Jonathan didn't feel as if he were worth enough for Ardeth to potentially lose everything he valued.

'Perhaps you should have told him this before letting him talk you into coming back with him, you idiot,' Jonathan thought to himself.

And then, one of the men closest to them smiled. "Welcome back, boys. The other leaders wish to speak to you, Ardeth, if you can drag yourself away from him. We didn't want to send anyone to find you; we thought you could use the privacy."

Jonathan felt his legs shake as the tension left. Beside him, Ardeth squeezed his hand and grinned. "Zia?"

His sister stepped through the crowd. "I did not do anything but confirm, dear brother. They are not as blind as you think they are."

Ardeth nodded. "I am sorry to have concealed anything from you," he told everyone.

"Just don't do it again," was the answer.

"I won't. I swear." Then, leaning over to Jonathan, Ardeth kissed him gently. "I hope this will not take long. Feel free to join us if you wish."

Jonathan returned the kiss then grinned wickedly. "Actually, if it's all right, I think I'll take a bit of a nap. I'm tired out."

The Med-jai chief chuckled softly. "Go. But you will pay for your leisure."

"Oh, yes. That's what I'm counting on."