Author's Notes: This is a wholly fictional story and creative liberties have been taken with historical facts. No offense intended in any of it.

This is not a remake of Lawrence of Arabia. I offered several plot choices to Edna, who requested this title originally, and she opted for a completely different storyline. I will not give away the plot, but to give y'all an idea, it has some flavorings of 'Gladiator' and 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'. I did this because we felt that it would be redundant to tell a story you can much easily watch on your own, I wanted to go back further in time to forgo all the technological things that typically surround Logan and Marie, and I just could not take apart a classic like Lawrence and not butcher it in the process. A story that good should be left alone (at least by ferrets).

Speaking of storyline, this story takes place at the turn of the first millennium during the time of the Himyarite rule, before the birth of Christ and before the introduction of Islam in the Arabian Peninsula. Ancient Arabia is divided into two regions, the northernmost deserts where Bedouin nomads traversed the dunes, and the lush southern coast where city-states flourished in the Asir region by the Arabian Sea. The settled populations in the south were mostly wealthy merchants and lived off agriculture and trade, while the nomads of the north traversed the actual trade routes to the Roman Empire and lived pastorally. Occasionally, we will move into the wilds of Germania in Europe, on the fringes of Roman rule. I know this sounds a whole lot like Ancient History 101, but rest assure, the story will not read like a textbook. I like to subtly incorporate setting and culture, not beat you over the head with it. This will still be an L/R fic through and through.

About the rating. This story is R/NC-17 because like most of my stuff, it will include variety in the content department. That means sex, deaths, fluff, angst, drama, violence, etc. Expect it, so don't say you haven't been warned.

Also, while my goal is to keep our heroes' personalities recognizable, their names will change. Logan will become Lo'gan al Jabir. Before you freak, let me explain, I've never given Logan a last name (that's sacred territory in my book and unless the upcoming 'Origins' gives him one, he will forever remain just Logan in my world) but in order for this to work, Logan needed to be part of a tribe/clan. Men at this time did not have surnames, they simply took on the clan name. 'al' means house of. So Lo'gan al Jabir, means 'Lo'gan from the house of Jabir.' The split in his name was just an impulse on my part. Thought I'd go for different (hehehe) As for Marie, she gets a name change too. I can't explain why without giving it away, but she will be Mari of the Battavians. Not very telling, but you'll see later on. And for those that are curious, all the names I use in the story are real of the people and tribes that frequented these regions at the time.

Now, for those of you used to playing 'spot the X-Man' in my fics, I decided to up the challenge a bit for you. Like I explained in my WRFA interview, many of the x-characters we all know and love, could not easily fit in this particular AU world. For example, it would be ridiculous to try and make red-headed, all American, Dr. Jean Grey a Bedouin woman, so what I did instead was take the personalities of our motley crew and apply them to characters in the story. In other words; different bodies, same characteristics. For example, Xavier is basically Sheik Khalaf Jabir. While he is not a white bald dude in a wheelchair, Khalaf is a clan leader who is noble, wise and the voice of peace and coexistence in the story. And yes, he has a bum leg from his run in with Eric's Arabian counterpart as well. That one's a freebie for you. The rest you'll have to figure out. The only two characters that will physically remain the same are Lo'gan and Mari. The only adjustments in appearance will be that Lo'gan is kind of tanned with very long black hair (residual SailorLogan fantasy on my part) and Mari is henna'd to the nines (I had to, Lo'gan loved the idea and the visual was too good to let go)

Okay, now why all this foreshadowing? Just wanted to give you guys a heads up. I like this story so far and I want you to enjoy it too. If ferret fics in general make you cringe, don't bother with this one. I consider this a fair warning, but if you must flame, I'm ready at: s_ithier@yahoo.com.

Finally, a standing ovation and pleasant shirtless Logan dreams for my awesome (and speedy) fact checker, Diane. She spent a lot of time researching for me and every last Arabian culture reference in this fic originates with her. She is a fabulous reviewer and a great ally to have at your side when writing. Kudos, babe, I learned more from your notes than I ever did in my ancient history classes! You're getting great payback fics (plural) for sticking with ferret on this one. Also, nekkid Arabian Lo'gan dreams for Ann M, who is my very own wrbeta mentor and has the marvelous tenacity to put up with my boundless impatience, my tumultuous scheduling and my irreverence to proper comma usage. Along with betas Susan K and Pia, these ladies are a godsend.

That's it for now folks. As always, enjoy.

Rub al-Khali, A southern desert of the Arabian peninsula

Desert lands will forever be veiled in mystery and natural wonder. They are forbidding lands where nature is as beautiful as it is deadly, where water is valued like gold, where sand encroaches on all it sees and the unrelenting wind whispers forgotten secrets it has witnessed from the dawn of civilization. In its remorseless abandon, nature has made this land merciless, but to those that dare make it home, it rewards with secrets many can never imagine. It offers the richest spices, the most magnificently lush oasis and the bluest, clearest sky you can ever hope to witness.

The people that play out their lives in this vastness do so with an understanding. They understand that the highest power is that which moves the sands, brings the rains and lights the sun. These elements are the highest law of the land and they listen carefully. Their existence is a nomadic one, spent herding and working busily until the very earth lets them know it is time to move on. The signs are subtle and the elders confer often. They pool their memories and recall past events in majlis councils. Others just listen carefully. Very carefully, not because they hope to decipher its intentions, but because they are blessed with an uncanny understanding that supersedes any speculation and runs deeper than any precognition.

These blessed individuals know of the desert because the same turbulent forces that reshape the dunes and urge the winds forward touch their restless souls. The desert itself knows this and pulls at them in recognition. Their fates are intricately intertwined, for they belong to one another and are one and the same in their magnificent beauty and majestic power.

---

Lo'gan's hazel eyes focused on the still dunes in the distance. Under the silver moonlight, the sand glimmered and reflected in a good imitation to the night sky full of stars. The serene dunes took on a grayish light at night, but they still looked beautiful. The southeastern kaus winds were still and he knew that was the first sign.

Burying his thick fingers into the sand next to him, Lo'gan felt the coolness in the course grains. Letting them slip through his dark fingers, he thought of the earth and how it never seemed to mind the stirrings of man. It never stopped its cycles, never even paused in its duties to alternately build and destroy. The sands kept shifting, the winds kept blowing and nothing seemed to matter.

Lo'gan wondered what it all meant. He was not a philosopher by trade, but his solitary nature always kept him on the fringe of his clan and the only other company he had if not human, was nature. And nothing elicited a philosopher's musings like the desert at night. Letting the rest of the sand slip through his fingers, Lo'gan brought his hand to lace with the other behind his head and looked at the twinkling lights high above.

He truly enjoyed his time alone but his heart was not still knowing the chaos they would encounter soon. Even though Khalaf was doing his best to keep the peace, it would not last long and when the weather turned hotter and drier, the competition for lifewater would challenge any peace. Lo'gan knew with certainty there would be conflict soon, he just hoped it would be after they reached Gazir. Five days, maybe six and the clan would be relatively safe. Only it would be hard. With close to eighty people, it would be hard.

Lo'gan looked away from the navy depths of the night sky to Nayif, who was hoofing the sand in sudden alertness. Reaching over to his left, Lo'gan took the leather reins that dangled into the glimmering sand to still his majestic black stallion. A horse was the greatest honor a sheik could bestow a clansman. Rare and precious, only warriors were given one and Lo'gan had received Nayif at the tender age of thirteen when he was inducted into the warrior subset.

With quiet murmurings, Lo'gan stood from where he was stretched out on the sand and petting Nayif's long snout, looked at the direction of the approaching figure. Even in the night, Lo'gan had sharp vision and he could make out his sheik's outline from afar. Gathering the robe he had discarded earlier, he slipped his arms into the wide sleeves and slowly patted Nayif as the limping outline approached.

"Lo'gan, my son, what are you doing out here when the celebration is over there?"

Lo'gan peered over to the left where the fires were burning high in celebration of his brother's induction and the voices of singing and dancing could be heard faintly over the still dunes.

"Greetings father, I needed time to think."

Sheik Khalaf waved one hand to dismiss the comment and slightly out of breath, patted Nayif's bulging shoulder muscles in appreciation.

"This is a fine creature, my son. Worthy of my best warrior. You have kept him well."

Lo'gan increased his own petting of the stallion's long snout and offered no comment. Most people would consider it disrespectful to not respond to a clan leader when spoken to, but Khalaf understood Lo'gan's quiet ways better than most. He even ignored the fact that he wasn't wearing his ghutra headpiece. It seemed like Logan was eternally unmindful of manners anyway.

"Have you been feeling the kaus winds?"

Lo'gan shook his head and turned to face his father. Even though he wasn't an elder, Khalaf always asked his opinion when moving the tribe. He wondered briefly if anyone else knew that. Many of the other men didn't like how much esteem the Sheik publicly showed for him, but Lo'gan didn't care.

"You feel we must go, my son."

The older man turned back to the direction of the celebration and started walking in his slightly limping way. It was an old injury and Lo'gan's only regret was that he had not been there to kill the man who dare hurt his father. Lo'gan clicked to draw Nayif's attention and fell into slow step beside his leader.

"Yes, father, but the Dawasir will be moving too."

Khalaf rubbed his brow tiredly before clasping both hands behind him.

"Yes, our only hope is that we move fast enough to get to Gazir first and then we could be ready if they mean war. We will move tomorrow and I will hold peace as much as I can. "

Lo'gan crinkled his forehead in thought.

"With the dryness of these months, that will be hard."

Sheik Khalaf looked over at Logan's hulking form with a wry smile. He would never understand why the younger man wore outside robes without an inner thobe shirt. It was almost indecent the way his chest was bare with only the fluttering robes and he was pretty sure Lo'gan knew that. He just didn't care.

"You would make a fine leader one day, my son."

Lo'gan snorted. Inevitably, conversations with Khalaf always ended up on the same note.

"Not interested."

"That is still to be seen. I will not live forever."

Lo'gan wisely kept his mouth shut. Of course Khalaf was getting old and he made it no secret Lo'gan was his favorite, but he was not made to be a leader. He hoped the old man would see that, but as the years rolled by, it was obvious he wasn't.

"There are others."

"None with your skill, your courage, with your sense of things."

Logan looked down at the soft shuffling of sand under his sandaled feet.

"I am an outsider."

Khalaf stopped in his tracks and waited for Lo'gan to turn and face him. The cheering and singing was a little louder now, making Nayif a little more alert.

"You are my son. It does not matter how that came to be. Don't ever let your mother hear those words."

Lo'gan peered past his shoulder to the dunes on the far right, unable to face the older man's eyes. It was true. With the Jabir clan he had found a family. He was lucky to be so blessed.

"I am sorry, father."

Khalaf grinned and waved the comment away. No matter how it had happened, Lo'gan was his son and despite his objections, he was a natural born leader. Khalaf knew this with certainty. Resuming his leisurely pace, the Sheik broached on the other subject he had been campaigning on for countless years.

"It is forgotten, now tell me, which of the women strike your fancy?"

Lo'gan cast a tired look at his stallion and tugged at the reins slightly. He knew something was missing. It was impossible to talk to Khalaf these days without at least one mention of his bachelor status.

"I don't need a woman."

The Sheik burst out in laughter.

"That's not what the men tell me when you go to Ma'in! They claim you see several."

Lo'gan gave him a wary look before turning his attentions back to the camp. He had wanted to return after everyone was asleep, but now he would have to navigate through the unwanted attention. Of course he enjoyed women, just didn't like them very much. When Khalaf's chuckling eased down, he patted Lo'gan on the shoulder.

"I hear Salma has plans on you. She is a beautiful girl, don't you think?"

Lo'gan shrugged again, dreading each step closer to the joyful celebration. He knew about Salma, but he really couldn't bring himself to care.

"I prefer to be alone, father."

"This I know, but maybe it is time you settle down, Lo'gan. There are plenty of girls here that would make excellent wives and it is not wise to be alone forever."

Lo'gan nodded in insincere agreement and scanned the camp. If he were to make a quick getaway, he would have to move quick. He shortened the slack on Nayif's reins and looked towards the path of least resistance. Knowing he wouldn't get more in the way of answer, the Sheik continued.

"At least promise me you'll think about it."

Lo'gan looked at the man who raised him like his own. He owed him as much.

"I will, father."

Khalaf patted Lo'gan's arm considerably happier and already making quick calculations of how fast they could move tomorrow, walked off to where the elders were still debating around the campfire, while watching the girls dance in all their twinkling finery.

Lo'gan spotted his mother, Joza, in the far distance with his aunts and walked to her in a wide arc to avoid people along the way. Nayif snorted and ruffled Lo'gan's long straight hair, alerting him to the fact that he wasn't exactly respectable at the moment. Lo'gan dug into the waistsash of his pants and withdrew his ghutra, sloppily securing the black headcloth down with his double corded, silver igaal. When he reached the women sitting on a stuffed cushion, he lowered his eyes in respect.

"Mother."

Joza's eyes sparkled as she reached up to her adopted son. Lo'gan lowered enough in response for her to place a kiss on his cheek. Straightening out again, he bowed slightly at his aunts. For the thirty years he'd known her, Joza's hair was the purest white. Both in the sun and in the moonlight, it shown brightly, and Lo'gan figured no woman could ever compare to his mother's beauty when she was young. Even now, with her dark velvety-soft skin lined with fine wrinkles, she was truly breathtaking.

"You spoke to your father?"

Lo'gan nodded and straightened out, crossing his robe shut for the benefit of the two other women, who exchanged smiles at his awkward attempt at civility.

"Are you retiring?"

"Yes."

"Very well then, I wish you pleasant dreams, my dear." She looked past his shoulder to the stallion waiting off to the side. "And you too, Nayif."

Lo'gan smiled faintly at Joza, who patted his hand, and nodded curtly at her sisters before turning and leaving. He mentally adjusted his previous thoughts. He did like one woman and that was Joza. With a click of his tongue, he called to his stallion and gave the festivities around the fire one last look. It was rare to have wood, so they were burning a frankincense oil dipped skin. Catching Salma's dancing form in the hazy smoke the fragrant oil produced, Lo'gan quickly turned away before he could be spotted.

She was attractive, but he could not imagine spending long periods of time with her. His ears rung with her high pitched laughter whenever she was around, and no matter how pretty she was, that alone could kill a man. People typically stood away from him anyway and in time she would hopefully lose interest and move on.

Not needing much in the way of companionship, Lo'gan always set up his tent as far away from the others as possible. Trekking through the soft sand to the very fringe of the camp, he walked to the colorfully woven tent that Khalaf had given him. It was entirely too lavish for his taste and more weight than he needed to carry, but he could not deny the old man anything and had accepted it humbly. Still shifting slowly through the sand, Lo'gan walked Nayif to the wooden post buried at the side of the tent. Giving him a quick pet, he tied his lead to the post and unstrapped the leather fittings that secured his saddle in place. Checking the sand around them to see that there were no scorpions or snakes to scare him, Lo'gan patted his only true companion one last time before walking to his tent.

Parting the thick, heavy curtain that served as a doorway, Logan yanked at his ghutra headpiece and tossed it to the side. Shrugging off his outer robe and kicking off his leather sandals, Lo'gan dropped to where heavy skins and woven linens made his bed. The tent was considerably neater than that morning and figuring that Joza had straightened it out for him while he was gone, Lo'gan wondered back to his father's statement. He was getting older and everything had a mate. Even camels and lizards needed another and maybe he did too.

As Lo'gan's eyes adjusted to the dark, he remembered something. Getting to his feet, he walked to the middle of the tent and untied a section he had cut out one day with his Khanjar knife. Instantly, a flood of silver moonlight flooded the tent and pulling his entire sleeping mat to lay directly under it, Lo'gan once again lay down to rest, looking up at the stars that were now so familiar. His thoughts strayed to the people he shared his life with, or rather, those that honored him by allowing him into their lives.

Khalaf and Joza loved him dearly and they only wanted to see him happy. Apparently that meant picking a wife and having children of his own. But was that so terrible? Perhaps he was being selfish. Everyone contributed to the tribe and having children was the ultimate contribution anyone could offer. All he could do was fight. Fight and kill.

Thoughts of the journey to Gazir flooded his mind once again. They were going to encounter trouble, he was sure of it, and he would gladly fight again to keep his people safe. It seems that was all he was good for. And who was he to challenge destiny? It might have been selfish, but he was not a made to be a family man or even a husband. A fighter was what he was, and like it or not, that was what he had to be.

Closing his eyes while his ears drowned out the celebration raging on not that far away, Lo'gan drifted off to sleep, hoping Joza's wish for him to have pleasant dreams would suffice and he would not have those horrible dreams that jarred him awake most nights. They were strange, confusing dreams that would leave him breathless, sweaty and terrified, but they were all he had of his past. He didn't know how that was possible, since he was a baby when Joza found him, but Lo'gan always felt they were of another time, another place. No matter what Khalaf said and how much love Joza gave him, Logan knew he was an outsider among the Jabir people. He was reminded every time he had that dream and it would forever make him different.

Battavian tribal territories east of the Rhine River in the Germanian wilds at the northern borders of the Roman Empire, Europe

Mari opened her eyes slowly and experimentally wiggled her toes under the heavy skins. It was still somewhat dark outside, but she knew from experience that the sun was just a few moments from making itself known. Somehow she always woke up before it rose, and unlike her sister, she actually liked seeing a day being born.

Slowly, dim light began filtering in through the spaces in the walls. One by one she watched the spaces between the logs light upwards until the light reached the roof. It was a beautiful sight to see the room light up that way every morning, but the morning chill that filtered in with the light had to be taken seriously. Mari sighed, knowing they would freeze that winter if they didn't get someone to plug up the hut with moss soon. She looked over at the sleeping form next to her sadly. Danea had been sniffling the day before and the last thing she needed was to have her younger sister sick. With all the harvesting still needing to be done, they very well couldn't afford it.

Mari turned back to watch the light filtering through the walls intensify as the sun took its rightful place in the sky. Uncle Cloarin was entirely too busy to do it, but she had seen her father do it once before. Thinking over what she knew of the task, Mari decided she would moss the hut herself. It wasn't woman's work and Uncle Cloarin would have something to say about it, but she couldn't let Danea sleep in frigid air much longer. With father away and uncle working all day reinforcing Battavia's fence, Mari knew she was responsible for her younger sister and she would do anything for her.

Looking over at her sister's sleeping form, Mari let the tenderness she felt for the petite girl wash over her. They had shared a bed their entire lives and that would come to an end soon. The engagement hadn't been announced and they had been careful to keep quiet, but Mari knew once her father returned, Danea would be married immediately. It seemed incredible that she would be gone soon. Mari was truly happy for her sister, but the thought that she would then sleep alone scared her. Mari flicked a strand of hair from the girl's face. Danea mumbled a protest in her sleep and Mari smiled, knowing that if their days together were numbered, she might as well get in as much torture as possible.

Mari shifted slightly, jutting her hip into her sister's side. With a grunt of disapproval, Danea jabbed back at her and yanked the skins under her chin in an effort to prolong her slumber, but it was futile. Mari mischievously yanked them back with a smirk and started tickling Danea without mercy. The younger girl screamed and immediately sprung to her own defense and giggling and tumbling, they went over the cot with a loud thump and landed on the bear-skin rugs covering the dirt floor. Having landed on top, Mari kept up her attack to Danea's sides.

"Say it!"

"No!!"

Mari staggered back when Danea sat up, but quickly retaliated by throwing the skin they had slept in over her sister's head. Danea screamed in laughter when Mari tackled her down again.

"Say it, Danea, say it!"

The sixteen year old stopped struggling when it started becoming hard to breathe and gave Mari a big shove. Mari giggled from where she landed on her behind and watched her sister struggle out of the skin. Giggling again at the sight of Danea's blondish hair sticking up all over the place, she wiggled her big toe into her sister's side.

"Say it."

Danea swiped at Mari's foot and brushed her messy hair out of her face. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave Marie a rueful look before pursing her lips disdainfully.

"Fine! I'll say it!"

Mari raised her eyebrows expectantly and gave her a toe nudge to encourage her sister along. Danea looked down as a smile slowly grew on her face.

"I love Geterian."

Mari jumped up triumphantly and tackled her sister with a hug.

"Ha! I knew it."

Danea giggled along with her and settled down again in the cold of the room, both sisters hugged to keep their bodies heated. The skin lay askew on the floor, but neither went to reach for it, too lost in their girlish thoughts to care. Eventually it was Danea that spoke first, her breath making a faint trail of vapor in the cold fall air.

"You think father will like him?"

Mari sighed heavily, her own worries about being seventeen and unspoken for resurfacing temporarily.

"I think he'll love him. Why else would he have told him to keep an eye on us while he was away? He trusts him. Uncle Cloarin likes him too."

Danea thought that over. Uncle Cloarin was hard to read sometimes and she didn't know what she'd do if their father didn't approve.

"I hope so. Do you know when they're coming back?"

Mari hugged her sister a little tighter, ignoring the chill she was feeling through her stockings. Since they were little, Danea would ask the same question every morning that their father was away on a campaign against the Romans and everyday Mari answered the same thing.

"He'll be back sooner than you think."

Taking one more minute of reverent silence where both girls recalled last spring when their father left with hugs and kisses, before slowly disentangling themselves from the other and getting up off the floor skins. Knowing that their chores would not wait and that thinking about him would only make them miss him all the more, Mari spoke up in a more chipper voice.

"We have more harvest today, and we have to make soap so we should get the fire started."

Danea nodded and flicked a tear from her cheek while folding the bedskins. Mari saw this and walked over, suppressing a shiver, and pressed a kiss to her sister's head from behind. They had all heard the latest rumors from the neighboring villages and it was not very good. The Romans were advancing through the border forests with entire legions intent on wiping out the Germanian threat once and for all. Although Mari had never seen a Roman soldier, her dreams were full of them. She wondered briefly if her younger sister dreamt about them too.

"It's freezing, Danea. Go start the fire, I'll get the bread. Maybe we'll see Geterian at the fields today."

The younger girl smiled sadly and hugged her slightly taller sister back tightly before walking off. Mari looked after her and finished fixing their cot. By the time she was done, Danea was on the other side of the hut, raking the ashes left in the stone hearth. Braiding her long, thick wavy hair halfway down her back before securing it with flax string, Mari eased her cloak dress over the course cotton gown she slept in and moved to secure her knee high deerskin boots.

Instantly warmer, she moved to the storage clay pots where they kept the wheat flour and measured out a portion with a gourd onto a wooden bowl. Keeping an eye on Danea fanning the embers to life in the center of the small log and mud hut, Mari thought over the chores she had that day while singing. By the time the bread was rolled and baking in the stone hearth, Danea was singing too. Knowing it would make her temporarily forget their father's plight, Mari offered to put ribbons in her sister's hair. When the bread was done, the girls threw on their pelt coats and went out to face the day in considerably lighter moods.

Walking almost three miles, past the few neighboring houses interspersed in the forest, the two sisters waved high to everyone they knew and shared gossip and stories all along the way. Very few girls were allowed to wander around as they wished, but since their mother had died during Danea's birthing, their father was always away and their uncle spent most nights guarding the village, the girls were pretty much on their own most of the time. Nevertheless, they reached the watchtower at the center of Battavia rather quickly and giving their uncle his breakfast, Mari and Danea hung around watching him eat and chatting idly, until it became clear to the old ex-warrior that they were up to something.

"You have ribbons in your hair."

Caught off guard, Danea blanched and Mari blushed.

"Is it a special occasion or something?"

Mari regained the ability to speak first and chuckled at an unusually high pitch.

"No. No. Just thought we'd look nice today."

Cloarin nodded sagely into his gourd of ale.

"So why don't you have any on?"

Mari's smile faltered and she nudged her sister, who stood mutely and offered no support whatsoever.

"Well, it's just that……mine fell out……because of the wind."

The old warrior raised an eyebrow and considered his two nieces carefully. His bushy eyebrows and long beard hid a truly jovial soul, but he could still look very intimidating when he wanted to. He flexed his enormous hands and looked to the forest edge about a mile away. The tall spruce were flexible enough to wave with the slightest wind.

"I see."

He finished his breakfast and the girls silently packed away everything back into their baskets. Still unable to talk, Danea shoved at her sister, who gave her uncle her biggest smile.

"Well, uncle, we know how busy you are and……we should leave, because we're going to pick in the fields…so bye."

Cloarin grunted an approval and both girls waved quickly before running off. They were almost out of range, when his deep voice stopped them.

"Girls."

They turned around slowly, holding each other's hand tightly.

"Yes, uncle?"

Trying not to laugh at the timid squeak of their voices, Cloarin pointed to his left.

"Geterian is overseeing the western fields today."

Danea's eyes bulged and Mari's mouth fell open. Unable to hold back any longer, the old warrior laughed out loud. The sisters looked at each other before turning matching shades of red.

"Go on and be careful, girls, I'll be home late."

Mari swallowed her pride and smiled weakly. Danea looked at her boots, completely mortified.

"Yes, uncle."

Still blushing furiously, both girls headed off in the direction of the west fields. They were in chest high wheat rows when Danea finally found her voice.

"I can't believe he knew!"

Mari smiled as she wove her way through the tall swaying grasses.

"Well, uncle is the smartest person we know. And he has seen how silly you get with Geterian around. "

Danea fussed with her pelt skin coat and gave her sister a half smile.

"I guess he thinks it's a good match then."

Mari stopped and helped her sister straighten out. They were almost to the west fields and Geterian always kept careful watch for who entered them. Flicking the dirty-blond strands away from her face, she smiled sadly at her younger sister.

"Of course he does. Geterian is wonderful and he cares for you."

Danea caught the sadness that crossed Mari's face and reached out to catch her hand.

"Maybe it's time you find someone, too. It's not right that I marry before you."

Mari took her hand back and shrugged noncommittally. They had broached this subject before and it still hurt to hear about it.

"I don't care about tradition as long as you're happy, Danea."

"I'm talking about moving on. It's been a year and there are so many people interested in you. When father comes back, I'm sure he'll love to hear that you found someone."

Mari stared at her sister's wide green eyes. She was right of course, but it still hurt and she wasn't ready for that kind of pain again.

"I love you for caring so much about me, but I can't, Danea. Every time father goes away, a little bit of me dies. When Herriun didn't come back, I knew I could never marry a warrior."

"Mari, it wasn't your fault. It was a difficult battle and he was really brave."

Marie snapped her hand back and threw her basket down to the ground in a sudden fit of anger. The birds that were on a nearby tree dispersed into the cold, grey sky.

"I'm sick of people saying that! It wasn't true. He told me the day before that he was terrified. That he didn't want to go. The only reason he went was to please father!"

Danea stared incredulously at her older sister, never remembering seeing her this livid. Her voice was barely a whisper. In all their talks, Danea had never thought to ask.

"I didn't know that. I'm sorry."

Mari blinked back her tears. They were right at the edge of her eyelids, but she didn't want them to fall. She had cried many nights for the boy that never got to be her husband and she had promised herself, no more. Seeing her sister's tears well up though, almost undid her. She looked to the ground, consumed with an old guilt.

"It was my fault he died, Danea. He wanted to show me that he could be just as brave as any of the other men…and, and I never even loved him. He died and I never even loved him."

Choking on a dry sob, Mari put a hand to her mouth. Danea's own tears streaked down her face and she moved to hold her. The sisters held each other in silence and understanding, trying hard to think of their father not ever coming back, when a snapped twig alerted them to a new presence.

"Are you two okay?"

The two sprung apart. Mari turned to pick up their baskets while Danea flustered to wipe her tears away. Geterian frowned and asked again.

"Something wrong?"

Danea brushed her hair back, positive she looked awful to the handsome young overseer. She never thought about it before, but she was glad he was one of a few men that were left behind to care for the village and the women and children, instead of fighting. Those men left regularly until one day they never came back.

"No, no, just thinking about father. We're okay."

She looked unsurely at Mari who was smoothing back her hair as well. She smiled slightly at her sister and handed her her basket.

"Yes, thank you. We were on our way to the fields."

Offering him her best smile, Mari waited for her sister's intended to move. Looking back to see Danea, Geterian figured they were fine and slowly let his jaw relax.

"Okay, umm, there's not that many people out today. If you want, I could come along."

He said it while looking straight at Danea, and smiling at the blush that overcame her younger sister, Mari quickly agreed for her, knowing that their uncle would love wild currant sauce with his dinner that night.

"Thank you."

Taking both their baskets in a sweeping gesture, Geterian pulled up the collars of his fur coat and walked back towards the common fields in the company of what many considered the prettiest girls in Battavia. He was a man, so he didn't pick the bright berries with them, but content to watch and follow, he regaled the girls with exaggerated battle stories. Despite the early chill in the weather, the three spent an easy morning in the fields, talking and eating berries.

By noon, they had to go and giving them time to talk alone, Mari went to the village center to trade the last square of soap they had for dried venison. Returning to see Danea kissing with her intended, Mari elicited a promise from an embarrassed Geterian to come by that afternoon to help them moss the hut. In a delirious mood, Mari and Danea then went to give their uncle his midday venison before happily making their way back home with heavy, full baskets, completely oblivious to the approaching army of red and gold dressed Romans fast approaching through the surrounding forests.

Rub al-Khali, Southern desert of the Arabian peninsula
Moving southwest towards the Gazir Oasis

Lo'gan stopped suddenly and looked to either side of him, where his brothers were riding in an equally spaced arc stretching a half mile in its reach. The five men stopped in response and hand on Khanjar blades, waited for Lo'gan's signal. The leader of the warrior horsemen, held his index finger to the sky and twirled it into a circle, before pulling Nayif's reins again. The stallion kicked proudly before beginning his half gallop forward. The surrounding men followed suit and slowly drawing together again, all six were riding side by side only moments later. Lo'gan spoke up loudly, so all could hear.

"We will reach the pass shortly and we'll be vulnerable out in the open. The Dawasir may already be waiting there. Sattam and Mi'tib, pull back far on each side and watch us carefully. The rest pull away in a tight arc. If we encounter resistance, we rush forward quickly to keep them busy and Sattam and Mi'tib go back to warn the others. Questions?"

The men were silent as they weighed the plan in their minds. Lo'gan never expected questions or even a differing opinion, but he always asked to make sure.

"Go with strength and honor, my brothers."

All five men repeated in unison. "Strength and honor, brothers."

The formation broke as two horsemen pulled back to fall behind and the remaining four warriors spread out a little more and continued their forward sweep. Content that they were only one day away from Gazir, Logan thought over the distance they had to cover. Taking one last look up into the sky, he let the worry that he had felt since that night of the celebration fill him once more. The contrast between daytime and nighttime temperatures has been steadily increasing which meant, sand-laden shamal winds from the northern deserts were coming.

Returning his gaze to the wide flat plain they were going to enter soon, Lo'gan focused again on his objective. Khalaf was trusting him to move the Jabir safely and he was going to do that. Even if the shamal winds were gathering, and the Dawasirs were in the vicinity, he would meet the objective. Truth was, he did not want a fight. They had lost a good man last time and with only twelve horsemen to guard eighty tribespeople, they had to choose their battles wisely.

Lo'gan turned when he felt eyes on him. Rakan looked away quickly when Lo'gan's scowling eyes fell on his. Lo'gan suppressed a chuckle and urged Nayif a little faster. The most recent addition to his crew, Rakan, was still getting past his hero worship. Lo'gan didn't really like the regard too much, but he didn't discourage it because it gave the men an added edge to fight for someone they feared and respected. Even though it was annoying that the kid barely left Lo'gan's side, Joza had made him promise to keep the boy safe.

Lo'gan took another look at Rakan by him and sighed. He was still a boy and had Dif'ran not been killed in the last confrontation, Rakan would be safe and sound in the caravan helping the women herd the goats along instead of riding alongside men twice his age and with ten times the scars. Even though he himself had been a fighter at a much younger age, Lo'gan knew Rakan wasn't and the boy deserved a long life if anything.

Unfortunately, tradition demanded twelve horsemen at all times and Lo'gan knew better than to question clan folklore. After the induction celebration four days ago, he had seen the boy practicing his Khanjar fighting during pauses in their move. He was a stickler for the rules and although he lacked real experience, Lo'gan could tell the boy was eager to please. Maybe Rakan would live to see twenty, but Lo'gan wasn't going to take chances now that he had promised his mother. Aside from getting them to Gazir, his second objective was to keep the boy alive.

Lo'gan cleared his mind as the dunes they were traveling on started to flatten. He needed to focus on the task on hand and weight his options carefully. The sun was low in the sky and they needed another half day to reach the oasis. With the Asir Mountains not that far off in the west, the wind swept the sand in a single sheet at the mountain steps. The flat sands made travel easy on everyone, but left them without cover and vulnerable to attack.

Once past it, they could camp for the night among the dunes again. He was sure that the camels in the caravan could smell the oasis water from where they were, but it had been a long day. Lo'gan knew the clan needed to rest badly and even Nayif was tiring. Gazir would have to wait one more half day. Arabian horses were breed for speed and maneuverability, not long periods of 100+ degree weather. They could move double time tomorrow once they passed the plains. They just couldn't take the chance to run across the Dawasir while tired and thirsty.

Taking one last look behind him to see the entire clan spilling over the dunes in the distant horizon behind him, Lo'gan pulled on Nayif's reins and turned the horse around. The two men beside him continued advancing through the sand while Lo'gan reached into his thobe shirt and withdrew a glass fixed in a round gold circle.

Aiming at the row of camels at the head of the caravan, Lo'gan moved the glass to reflect three flashes of brilliant sunlight. Getting three flashes in response a few moments later, Lo'gan slid the glass back into his thobe and watched with satisfaction as the entire clan started moving quicker. Patting Nayif's thick neck in encouragement, he turned to catch up with the other horsemen and quickly moved to the head. Hoping they could traverse the flat pass before the sun set, Lo'gan led the tired Jabir people closer to the Gazir oasis.

Four hours later, the sand flats began to change under them and just as the rim of the brilliant orange sun touched the horizon before them, the Jabir entered the safety of dunes once more. Scanning the area with sharp eyes, Lo'gan spotted a good place to stop for the night. Giving his men silent commands with only a look and a nod, Lo'gan turned his tired horse once more. Seeing Khalaf's dalul camel at the head of the caravan, he trotted back to him. When he reached the old Sheik, Lo'gan bowed slightly before detailing his plan.

"Sir, the sands to the right are excellent cover for the night."

"Superb, my son. How much longer will it be?"

Lo'gan made a mental calculation as Nayif trotted cautiously by the Sheik's taller camel. It was no secret how the horse felt towards the moody animals. The fact that Nayif was as anti-social as his owner never failed to make the tribespeople chuckle.

"After a good rest, we will arrive before midday tomorrow."

Khalaf raised his eyebrows and not ceasing the patting of his camel with his strap, smiled happily.

"Good. We cannot keep this pace for long."

Lo'gan nodded thoughtfully and faintly wondered how his mother was holding up. He generally tried not to think too much about the clan when they were moving, but the fact that he cared anyway annoyed him a little. Having said all he was going to, Lo'gan looked at Khalaf again.

"I'll start right away."

The Sheik nodded and Lo'gan pulled back. Settling down ironically took longer than picking up and moving and there was a lot of work to be done before the sun disappeared completely. First came the pens. Grabbing the lead of the camel that carried the posts, Lo'gan pulled ahead to the designated spot he had just pointed out and started constructing the rough outline of an oval pen. With the help of his men, the wooden posts and interconnecting rope fence were up by the time the caravan reached them. Making sure all of the goats and sheep were secure, he moved to help his mother who was unpacking her camel.

"I'll get that."

Joza smiled at his concern as she unloaded her packs.

"I'm not as old as I look."

Lo'gan paused in his unfurling of the canvas and looked up.

"You aren't old at all."

Joza laughed as she settled the pack into the ground and kneeled down to untie the ropes that held them together.

"You are too sweet, Lo'gan, and I am old."

Lo'gan frowned and moved to upright the five poles that held the interior of the tent up. Joza watched him move with a sparkle in her eye.

"Which is why I need grandchildren."

Lo'gan stopped in mid-action and actually paled a little.

"You sound like father."

"Well, thirty three cycles of marriage will do that."

Lo'gan ignored her laughter and pulled the tent fully erect. Swooping down to move her bundles inside, he stopped when she grabbed his hand.

"It's okay, my dear, I understand better than you know, now go help the others, I'm still capable of taking care of a few things."

Lo'gan nodded dutifully and walked away with a last look back. She always complained, but at least he got the tent up. Now a few dozen more to go. By the time the sun set, Lo'gan had helped most of the women with their tents and secured everyone's camel. Finding the one that held his tent last, he walked it to the furthest space on the outside of camp and finally put up his own tent. Once settled, he walked it back to the pens and tied it to the others. They were usually very loyal animals, but being so close to water and vegetation, camels tended to run away if left loose.

Remembering Nayif, Lo'gan checked what remaining water he had in his goat skin and moved to water his horse. Taking a conservative drink for himself first, he poured the remaining two gallons from the goat skin into Nayif's large clay bowl and unbuckled the riding saddle while the horse lapped it up eagerly. When he finished, Nayif twitched his ears while Lo'gan gathered what little hops he had left from his pack and placed them in the bowl. Lost in the quiet duty of carefully combing the dust from Nayif's hide while the horse ate, Lo'gan failed to hear the twinkle of bracelets until it was too late.

"Greetings."

Lo'gan turned with a slight grimace. He had been careful to avoid the girl for days, but it was just a matter of time before she cornered him. Annoyed that he was playing games he hated, Lo'gan went back to the careful brushing of Nayif's hide. Knowing she wasn't going to get an answer back, Salma brought up the bowl she had in her hands.

"Mother Joza noticed you haven't eaten, so I brought you some food."

At the smell of lamb's meet and bread, Lo'gan turned. Salma smiled at him hopefully from behind her veil and he debated whether or not to take the meal. He had only had dates that day and was feeling hungry now that he had drunk water. To encourage him, Salma stammered on.

"Joza made it, it was wonderful."

Deciding he could deal with a little conversation in exchange for mutton, Lo'gan irately took the copper bowl and moved to sit on his unopened pack. He muttered a `thanks' under his breath and having all the encouragement she needed, Salma settled on the sand by him and began offering all the clan gossip Lo'gan couldn't care any less about.

By the time he was finished and she handed him a cloth in exchange for the empty bowl, she had detailed everyone's personal life and Lo'gan had yet to say one word. Suddenly feeling uncharacteristically awkward, he racked his brain as how to make her stop, when she caught his complete attention by placing a hand on his knee. Snapping his gaze to her face, which she had at some point unveiled, Lo'gan wondered what exactly stopped him from marrying her. She blinked at him expectantly and deciding to find out if it was worth it once and for all, Lo'gan reached over and kissed her. Salma took only a second to kiss him back and after a few moments, Lo'gan pulled away. Salma's eyes widened.

"What's wrong?"

Lo'gan smirked and grabbed her hands, which were on the southside of his sash already.

"Nothing. Thanks for the food."

Standing up with no further explanation, Lo'gan pet Nayif one last time before making his way to his tent. Salma stayed on the ground a little longer, still trying make sense of what happened before standing up and furiously stomping to her own tent.

Opening the flap to see the sky before falling on his own bed, Lo'gan wondered what his father would say to him tomorrow. Oh well. Knowing he was in for one hell of a day and too tired to wonder whom Salma had slept with, Logan closed his eyes and fell quickly into a deep sleep.

His sleep, however, was full of twisting dreams and he was up before the sun, sweating and panting. Slightly queasy, Lo'gan kicked off his coverings and went outside to clear his head. Still trying to calm his racing heartbeat, he plunkered down in the east-facing dunes and covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. Instantly feeling better in the chilly night air, Logan let his hands fall and looked up, just in time to catch a flicker of light far in the distance.

Not sure he was fully awake, Lo'gan stood to his feet and peered over to where the sun would rise in only a few hours and sure enough, the torchlight flickered once more. Clenching his jaw, he shook the last traces of his sleep away. What he had wanted to avoid had come to pass but he was ready to meet it head on. All things considered, it was better this way, since the clan would not be involved.

Ten minutes later, Jabir's twelve warriors were suiting up their horses. Having outlined the approach plan, Lo'gan looked at Khalaf, who was suiting up his horse as well.

"You should stay."

The Sheik looked solemnly at Lo'gan and secured the straps of his saddle on his black and ivory horse.

"I must be there. Perhaps there will be some way to talk sense into Salih."

Lo'gan sheathed his Khanjar blade and hooked his last water skin onto Nayif. They had to leave soon, if they were to catch up to the Dawasir party.

"The clan will be defenseless."

"The younger boys will be on guard. I must see him."

Lo'gan glanced at the men watching them. It was not good for them to see indecision before a fight.

"As you say, father."

Lo'gan mounted Nayif and signaled the men to regroup. Before doing the same, Khalaf glanced over at Joza where she was waiting in the shadows. Giving her a tight smile, Lo'gan pulled away to give them privacy. For all the years Lo'gan remembered, they always said good-bye with a quiet kiss and murmured words. Like he told his father often, he didn't need a woman, but occasionally when he saw the love his parents shared, Lo'gan wondered if someone could ever love him that way too. As he pulled away from the firelight into the dark of the night, Lo'gan caught a glimpse of Salma watching intently from a distance with the other women. When their eyes met, she turned away and snorting at the memory of the kiss they shared, Logan decided that, no, no one would ever look at him that way.

Hearing his father's horse close behind, his thoughts immediately snapped back to the mission. Receiving a sharp nod from Khalaf, Logan gave the signal his eleven fellow warriors waited for and together they trotted out into the night in a full gallop in the direction of Gazir and what was sure to be a furious battle for right to lifewater.

Battavian tribal territories east of the Rhine River in the Germanian wilds at the northern borders of the Roman Empire, Europe

Mari smiled at the merriment in her sister's talking. Ignoring the dull pinch in her upper arms and lower back due to the strain of carrying a berry laden basket for close to three miles, she switched the basket to her other side and kept walking through the needle covered forest floor. She knew Danea was tiring too, but excited over the time they had spent talking with Geterian, she trudged on without the slightest complaint. Mari smiled again, because on any other day, she would have ended up carrying both baskets for the last stretch of deep forest. She hated when her sister whined and carried on, but in the end, she knew Danea was just being herself. By the time they reached their hut, nestled in the farthest woods that made Battavia, the sisters were silent and tired, but happy.

After dumping the heavy baskets on the rough hewn table at the center of their home and making sure the fire was building in the hearth, Mari and Danea took the giant clay pots to the western side of the surrounding forest to draw water. Enjoying the fragrant smell of evergreens and the cold air that filled their lungs despite the afternoon sun, the girls walked silently to their stream.

The stream was not very big or deep outside of spring, when the mountain snow swelled it to four times its size, but the brook was enough to always supply them with enough to drink. Snapping off a sprig of pine as they walked the well worn path, Mari took a deep sniff of its essence before handing it to Danea. The younger girl took it with a smile and twirling it lightly in her pale, slender fingers, offered her older sister a shy smile.

They had already reached the rushing brook and too scared of the rushing water, Danea always stood on the edge, while Mari ventured in. Giving her a smug smile that showed how much of a baby she thought Danea was, Mari hopped precariously from one wet boulder to another, until she was well inside the rushing stream. Her oiled deerskin boots were watertight, but not wanting to risk falling in, Mari crouched over the largest boulder gingerly to keep her balance and carefully filled the earthen pot. Walking back considerably slower, she deposited the full water jug in Danea's arms before taking the empty one and venturing back into the water. When she stepped foot on the mossy bank of the stream once again, Mari flashed Danea a tired, but triumphant smile.

"Show off."

Mari responded without a second's hesitation.

"Baby."

Giggling enough to almost lose hold of the earthen pot she was hugging, Danea rolled her eyes and started on the path home. Mari followed with a smirk of her own and reached their hut five minutes later, they set to rinsing and boiling the currant berries they picked earlier to make preserves. Working silently side by side, it was only after everything was done and they were tidying up the house that Danea finally spoke about what was on her mind.

"What will you do when I move away?"

Mari set down the flax she was rolling into thread and looked at her sister pointedly.

"Is that what you've been thinking about?"

Danea glanced up from the roll of thread she was winding and looked at Mari sheepishly.

"It's just that you'll be all alone."

"Uncle……"

"Uncle nothing, he spends more time at the post than anything else."

Mari resumed her task and swallowed deeply before answering.

"I'll be fine Danea. You deserve to be happy with Geterian and you shouldn't waste your time worrying about me."

Danea settled back down again and thought that over with moist eyes. After a few moments of silent working, she looked up at her sister again.

"Just promise me you'll come visit as often as you could."

Mari smiled tightly and continued pulling the thready fibers between her fingers.

"Of course I will, but I'm sure you'll want to be alone."

Like expected, Danea turned a bright shade of red and Mari smiled even wider as she ducked a ball of string that went sailing past her head. .

"Ma-ri!, Shut-up!"

"You're the one kissing around every corner, don't act like you won't."

"I am not!"

Mari stopped her work and looked at her sister with a raised eyebrow.

"So what were you doing in the field the minute I left this morning? Huh?"

Danea crossed her arms and to Mari's amazement turned even redder.

"I've only kissed him twice. It's not like you think, Mari!"

"Well, that's already twice more than I've been kissed."

It was Mari's turn to blush as Danea's jaw dropped.

"I thought you said Herriun kissed you before he left."

Mari looked at her sister in exasperation.

"How would he when we weren't alone even for a second? You were always in the way! And I was just trying to make you jealous. He tried, but he never did."

The sisters held a moment of awkward silence before Danea started giggling. Eventually, Mari joined her and the two chuckled until the irony of it all swept over them, leaving them mute once again. Feeling awful that she was laughing at the expense of her sister's unfortunate loss, Danea stood from where she was and went to hug Mari. Mari hugged her back and after a minute they went back to their work.

"Maybe you should start dinner. Geterian should be here soon."

Danea smiled despite herself and jumped up.

"You're right, he promised to moss the hut and the least we can do is feed him. Maybe Uncle will come early too. I'll start right away."

Half skipping to the now cooling currant preserve, Danea replaced the metal pot with another and excitedly starting taking out the things needed to make their meal. Mari went back to finish the thread she was making when a distant sound caught her attention.

"Did you hear that, Danea?"

The younger girl stopped and cocked her head for a moment before resuming her work of peeling potatoes.

"No, you're imagining things. How does my hair look?"

Mari smirked and expertly wound the thread between her fingers.

"You look fine, just make sure you behave yourself."

"Just make sure you're not the one that tells Uncle."

Mari giggled at her sister's blush and was about to counter when the sound reached them again. This time they both heard it and Mari distinctly made it out to be a yell. A panicked yell. She stood quickly from the table and ran to open the door. Her jaw dropped and scared it was their father returning from the battle, Danea ran after her, but Mari put her hand out.

"Stay inside, Danea!"

Looking back to see if she would listen, Mari ran out the door just as the yelling reached them again. Taking large strides, she ran to meet Jutland, the middle son of her closest neighbor over a mile down the forest path. He was a young boy of nine, but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes. He had his baby sister strapped to his back and Mari's gaze switched from his sooty face to the darkening sky from the direction of the Battavian village. Gasping at the realization that something was on fire, Mari skidded to a stop just as the tearful boy reached her. On her knees instantly and smoothing back clumps of his reddish hair to calm him, she tried to understand his mumbled words as he held his side tightly and looked back frantically.

"The…came and…momma…"

"Jutland, tell me, calm down, please tell me what happened!"

The boy gasped for breath in between coughing and for the first time, Mari wondered why the baby wasn't crying. Bringing the boy to the ground with her, she reached for the infant strapped tightly to his back and almost choked when her head lolled to the side and her glassy, half-lidded eyes stared blankly into the sky. Hit with a powerful wave of nausea, Mari held her stomach and fell back on her behind. Jutland was still gasping for breath from his run. On all fours on the ground, his panic was easing away as horror set in. He started sobbing and unsure of what to do, Mari reached out to him when a scream tore through the chilly air.

Turning suddenly to see Danea at the doorway crying and pointing at the billows of black smoke rising from the not so distant treeline, Mari fully came to understand what was happening. There was a fire, but there was also more. The faint smell of burning was growing and Jutland's babbling suddenly made sense and solidified her realization. Her uncle spoke often of how the Romans burned everything in their wake when they swept into an area. Still clutching the boy tightly, Mari shook him to get him to look at her, as her own dread began to grip her.

"Jutland! Jutland! Please tell me what happened!"

The boy shook his head as a coughing spell left him breathless and feeling him starting to whither in her grasp, Mari let out a whine of desperation. Jutland spit up blood as he fell on his side completely and feeling terrible for not having asked if he was injured, Mari reached for his wolf-skin coat with cold, trembling fingers. Summoning all the courage she had, she tore it open and gasped when she saw the shaft of a broken arrow protruding from below the boy's ribcage. The tears that failed to fall so far, came rushing forward and hearing that Danea had stepped closer, Mari turned around and barked at her in a gravelly voice.

"Stay inside!!"

Turning back to the boy that always asked to know when she was going to make pumpkin pies, Mari wiped at the foamy blood slowly dribbling out of his mouth with her frock.

"Romans…momma said…to take……"

Mari smoothed back the outlandish red hair dreadlocked around Jutland's face as her mind raced with implications.

"You did good, you did good Juttland, but did you see Cloarin, my Uncle? Are they fighting?"

"Yes……I took the baby……she's hurt, Mari"

Mari sobbed harder when the boy coughed again and the same glassy look that his sister had, started to overcome his young features. She could hear Danea crying in the doorway and just under her voice, all the subtle sounds that typically made up life in the forest. They were strangely hushed and that was never good. Knowing she could do nothing else, Mari held the boy to her chest and rocked him a little, trying hard to forget that she had played with the baby and promised Jutland a pie of his very own that same morning on their way to the village.

"It's okay Jutland, she's okay, it's okay, it's okay."

Mari held him and cried silently until Danea's voice grew louder and the smell of burning grew thicker. Knowing Battavia was under attack and that her uncle was most likely dead and that she was Danea's only chance to stay alive, Mari closed her eyes and let go of Jutland and his baby sister. Laying him down on the carpet of brownish needles that covered the path to their house carefully so as not to look at their faces, Mari untied her blood stained frock and spread it out over the young siblings.

With broken sobs, she turned and ran to their hut, where Danea was in a heap in the doorway. Picking her up by the shoulders, Mari shook her a little, like she had done to Jutland and smoothed the messy blondish hair like she did almost every morning.

"Look Danea, I have to see about Uncle, but you have to leave. You have to go into the mountains."

The younger girl wiped at her nose and shook her head furiously. Mari felt all hope vanish when she saw her sister's refusal, but their father and uncle always told them to go to the mountains if their was ever trouble. It was the only way.

"No! I can't leave you! You can't make me!"

Mari let her go in defeat and ran inside the hut, grabbing all the dried food and water she could. Dumping them onto the table, she opened her father's trunk to fetch a suede pack. Throwing everything in with stiff fingers from having been outside without a coat or mittens, she turned to her sister once more, much calmer than the previous minute as her mind wrapped itself carefully around the situation.

"You have to. Uncle has told us where to hide and you have to go now!"

"Mari…"

"No!! Do as I say, Danea. This isn't a game. These are Romans! I'll come for you once I know and…"

Mari stopped and swallowed hard as she heard a tree crash in the distance. Closing the bag she held, she tossed it to Danea and ran to the door again. She was surprised to see it less bright than it was just a minute ago. The sky was twirling with black smoke in several directions now, which meant the forest was on fire. She had heard her uncle's stories often and knew that fire could sweep a forest in only moments. Coughing in the suddenly increasingly unbreathable air, Mari turned to her sister once more.

"W-w-what's going on?"

"The trees are on fire! Danea, put on your second coat and put on the pack, now!!"

Seeing the alarm on Danea's face, Mari ran to get the coats and grab the short knife her uncle kept under his cot. Danea wouldn't go alone, so she would have to take her as far as she could and return for her uncle. Meeting Danea at the door, Mari took her hand and started on the path that led to the mountains and away from Battavia. Unfortunately, it took her only a few moments to realize that the chipmunks and squirrels were crossing them in the opposite direction and Mari understood that to mean that the path ahead was already being consumed by fire.

Being much more tomboyish than her sister, her uncle had taught her many things about the land in the hunting excursions he took during the summer and if Mari learned one thing, it was that the animals always sensed things before people. Stopping in her run so suddenly that Danea bumped into her from behind, Mari looked around for another way out. Danea was sobbing again and coughing, but intent on keeping her alive, Mari looked around frantically for what to do. Finally, she heard panicked sounds from high above and seeing the geese that frequented the lake at the foot of the hills weave through the twirling smoke in the sky, Mari found her answer.

Grabbing Danea's hand, she headed in the direction that the V the geese formed was pointing to. Regrettably, it was straight towards the southern side of the forest, just below Battavia. But they had no choice. If there was a battle going on in the fields around the village, it was still a safer bet than staying in a forest being devoured by flames. Mari had wanted to get Danea to safety, but that was impossible now. Focusing hard to weave through the darkening forest safely, Mari tried to forget the fact that the people she knew and loved were dying and instead thought only of how to get her sister out of their precarious situation.

Making their way through the woods they played in all their life, Mari and Danea ran semi-blindly and as the sounds of screaming and metal clashing grew louder, Mari's heart turned in its place, as it became clear that they were stuck between a battle and a fire. Thankfully, Danea had stopped sobbing, more out of the difficulty of breathing in the thickening smoke than anything else, but Mari made sure they slowed down their pace nevertheless. When they were only a few yards from the forest edge that bordered the fields Battavia rested on, Mari brought them both down to the ground. Her nightmares were always filled with Roman soldiers swathed in blood and finery, but nothing in her wildest imagination prepared her for the scene before her.

From their vantage point nestled among the trees on a slight incline, both Mari and Danea held their breath at the incredible sight of the red and gold shimmering army sweeping everything they knew. Their highly polished shields and tall swords made short work of the opposition and to their horror, bodies of men, women and children they knew littered the fields and roads. There was still significant fighting going on in the center of the village and the clashing of swords and screaming of men was deafening. Remembering her uncle, Mari scanned along the collapsed sections of log fencing that once protected their village up to the watchtower they visited everyday.

"Oh gods."

Eyes filling with tears and heart constricting with sorrow, Mari took in the sight of her beloved uncle pinned with a dozen long arrows up against the post he worked so hard to build. Rivulets of blood matted his fur cloak and bushy beard and pooled onto the ground under him. Mari wanted nothing more than to run to him and throw her arms around his enormous frame like she always did as a child, but she couldn't. Danea was sobbing by her side, and seeing him would destroy the younger girl. Swallowing her grief and gathering what hope she had left in her broken heart, Mari pulled at her sister and dragged her to her feet.

"We have to go now!"

"Mari, no! What about Uncle and Gete…"

Despite the tiredness of having worked all day and the horror of seeing her uncle dead, Mari ignored her sister's pleas and tried to move as quick as she could along the forest edge back towards the mountain pass. It was their only hope. Having lived far from the village gave them an advantage their friends didn't have, but if they stayed, they would join them for sure.

Praying the darkness that settled prematurely over the land aided in disguising them, Mari pulled at her younger sister, who babbled on about finding Geterian and going back. Mari cried bitterly and urged her to move faster while ignoring her own instinct that told her to leave the blazing forest for the open ground. But she reasoned that it was their best cover and half running and half trotting along the outline of the forest edge, desperately hoped no one would spot them. But it was already too late.

Battavian tribal territories east of the Rhine River in the Germanian wilds at the northern borders of the Roman Empire, Europe

Two hundred feet away from Mari and Danea were, a soldier looked up to avoid the splatter of hot blood that inevitably always followed a slash across the throat and caught two figures running through the trees. Withdrawing his blade and wiping it clean on the pelt cloak of his victim, the soldier signaled to his Commander, who was overseeing on horseback a short distance away, before returning to the systematic advance on the enemy. The Commander looked over in disinterest and was about to signal his bowmen to kill the girls when his second in command interrupted. The Commander looked over for an explanation and his subordinate lowered his eyeglass from where he was watching Mari and Danea stumble across the rapidly deteriorating forest.

"Sir, they are both girls. We might want to keep them."

The Commander raised his own brass eyeglass and seeing Danea's fluttering light hair in the distance, nodded slightly before returning his attentions to the more interesting fighting going on in the town square.

"Thank you, sir."

With a curt nod, the young officer galloped off and only minutes later, three of his men were dispatched to capture them. Watching from a distance as the three approached, Lieutenant Aerius mentally calculated the amount of money the girls could bring. Of course, he didn't know if they were suitable, but having lost three of seven already captured to disease in the campaign, he needed to make up for his losses. Throwing a resentful look towards the Commander and the unfortunate fact that he got to keep most of the profits for his work, Aerius looked after his men from a distance.

They approached quickly and still occasionally looking back to see if she saw Geterian, Danea caught sight of them first.

"Mari! Mari! They've seen us!"

Mari looked back and felt her heart fall through her stomach, tightened her grip on her sister and ran even faster. Danea stopped struggling and moved faster too, but to Mari's horror, they still weren't fast enough. The three men were catching up to them and feeling the desperation of someone being hunted and knowing that the forest no longer offered them protection, Mari decided to break from the trees and make a run for it in the clear. Danea ran by her without hesitation, but the decision was too little, too late and they could not outrun the trained warriors for long.

"Mari!!"

"Just run!! Don't stop!!"

Hearing the strange words of the men just a few paces behind them, no doubt ordering them to stop, Mari looked back just as a strong pair of arms circled her frame and threw her down to the ground. She screamed as the soldier's metal fittings cut into her. Danea was tackled down also and her hand was wrenched from hers.

"Danea!!! Danea!!!"

["Shut up, barbarian!]

Mari screamed and tried to see her sister as she struggled with another armor-plated soldier, but the weight holding her down was too much and her struggle was pointless. With little effort, the soldier brought her hands together on her back and a second tied a gag around her mouth before tying up her hands. Mari could hardly see because her face was being pressed down into the drying grass of the fields, but she could hear Danea still crying uncontrollably. She was calling for Mari to help her and for the first time in sixteen years, Mari felt useless and weak at not being able to.

Crying bitter tears, she heard a loud slap and grimaced at the thud that followed. The soldier tying her up gave her wrists one last yank and got up to help the one holding down her sister but the one sitting on her legs didn't budge and kept her pressed firmly into the ground. Despite her gag, Mari screamed herself hoarse. She could not make out what the guards were saying, but she was sure Danea was unconscious because for once, she was silent. Screaming all the more, Mari gasped when she was suddenly turned over and a knife was pressed into her throat.

["If you don't shut up, I'm going to gut you, you filthy savage, do you understand me?"]

Mari held her breath at the words spit into her face, but still panicked that Danea was silent, tried to move her head slightly to see her. She could make out the two men tying her up like she had been, but she couldn't see Danea's face. Through the bitter taste of the cloth gag cutting through her mouth, Mari pleaded.

"Please, let me see her, please, please."

Fat, heavy tears rolling down her face, Mari choked on her sob when the soldier pulled at her hair, to make her look at him again.

["Are you barbarians that stupid? I said to shut up!"]

Mari closed her eyes and feeling the edge of the knife press harder against her neck, nodded very slightly at what she assumed was a command to be silent. Satisfied she understood, the Roman stood and resheathed his knife, keeping Mari firmly on the ground with a heavy foot on her stomach. Finally free, Mari turned her head to see Danea's still face, but it was only for a second because once the men decided who was going to carry her, Danea was heaved up over a shoulder and carried off. Mari made an attempt to get up, but she was kicked down again before she had a chance. Biting down into the dirty rag cutting into the sides of her mouth, she curled up into her side, almost certain she had a cracked rib. Still talking in a language she couldn't make heads or tails of, the soldier that kicked her picked her up by the hair and brought her to his face.

["Unless you start behaving, I'm going to make sure no one will ever want to pay one coin for your dirty hide!"]

Hit with an indescribable hatred for the man, Mari wrenched out of his grasp defiantly and was about to kick him back, when another pair of hands, yanked her back.

["You better watch how you treat the merchandise or Aerius will have your hide!"]

Looking back in the direction his companion was pointing too on the other side of the field to see his lieutenant on his horse looking in their direction, the soldier gave Mari a threatening look before pulling her by her pelt coat forward. Seeing Danea already being carried in the same direction, slightly ahead of them, Mari ignored the throbbing pain in her left side and stumbled alongside her captors quickly to keep up with the men's pace. They were marching to where there was a man on horseback waiting for them, but unable to take her eyes off her sister's limp form, Mari saw little of the exchange among them until she was pulled forward.

["Lieutenant Aerius, we brought the girls for inspection."]

["Yes, bring them here."]

Mari was yanked forward before the man and the gag was removed. She tested the soreness in her jaw and eyed the quiet man fearfully. Still crying at the thought of her sister on a heap on the ground, Mari tried to plead with him, since he was obviously a chief of some sort.

"Please, my sister is hurt, we're not a threat, let…"

["Silence!"]

Mari startled at the word and searched the man's eyes frantically for an understanding, but the lieutenant was busy assessing too. With gloved hands he lifted her chin and brought Mari to his face. There was little light left of the day, but it was enough to see something he liked. With her hands tight behind her back, Mari wavered under the probing. When the lieutenant was done, he signaled to one of his men, who Mari recognized as the one who tied her. She took a step back wanting to run, but unwilling to leave her sister behind, struggled with him instead. The lieutenant withdrew his blade silently.

Mari stilled instantly, eyes huge at the weapon pointed at her sister. She understood the threat clearly and surrendered. She stood limply as the soldier tore open her pelt skin coat and yanked it down her arms. Still wearing his leather gloves, the lieutenant stepped forward again and felt along her shape. His hands were rough, but very methodical as they swept past her breasts and hips. Mari stood rigid and cried bitterly. When he was done, he looked at the soldier who yanked the coat back up again.

["She'll get a fair price. And she's intact. Put her in holding until tonight, then add her to the others." Looking pointedly at the soldier who had kicked her, he added, "And make sure she stays intact or it'll be you for sale."]

The man in question mumbled an agreement and the lieutenant moved on to Danea. Seeing his intent, Marie went to protest, but was quickly gagged again and taken away. Struggling all the way, she was thrown into a small wooden cage that was hitched on four wheels. There were similar cages to either side of her, but Mari could only think of her sister. Her wait wasn't long, however, as the girl was brought in a few minutes later, considerably more lucid and seemingly okay despite the giant swell on her forehead. Tossing her inside, the soldier regarded the sisters disdainfully before slamming the bared door shut, turning a key in its lock and making a show of wiping his hands on his scarlet robe.

Finally alone with her awakening sister, Mari moved to Danea's side and bathed the sooty, swollen face with frantic half-kisses. Her hands were still tied behind her back and she was gagged, but she tried to nudge Danea awake with her shoulder. The younger girl eventually opened her eyes from the prodding and moaned at the painful throbbing off her head that she couldn't reach.

"Ma-ri…"

Mari motioned at her gag and then looked down at Danea's hands. The girl understood and carefully Mari shifted to untie it with her hands. It took a few tries, but she managed and Danea did the same for her. Hearing Danea crying softly, Mari shifted back to face her and made an active effort to stop crying herself to make her sister feel better.

"I'm here, just stay calm, Danea., you're going to be fine."

After a few minutes of cooing and whispering into her hair, Danea did calm down enough to talk.

"Mari, they're all dead…Uncle and Geterian…and they're going to kill us too."

Mari sat up in the tiny cage and regarded her sister carefully.

"No, I won't let them hurt you, even……even if they try and……"

Danea broke down again and cuddled in close to her sister's side. It was the side that hurt, but knowing that her sister needed her, Mari grimaced slightly and didn't mention it as the pain flooded her senses.

"They would have done it by now if they really wanted to."

The thought sent an involuntary shudder down Mari's spine and remembering the inspection they had just undergone, Mari wept silently again. Nestling in close to her sister, like she had done that very same morning, Mari chanced a glance at their surroundings.

Even in a relatively safe distance from the frontlines, there was a good view of the fighting that was going on in the center of Battavia, where the village men were held up in the meeting hall. The Romans that surveyed the battle from a distance were ahead of the row of a half dozen cages. The nearby forest was being consumed by flames and cast an eerie glow over the entire plain. With a choked sigh, Mari brought herself to look at what remained of a once thriving village. The trading posts and granary were all burned to the ground and amid the smoldering ruins, Mari could make out soldiers combing through the debris to finish off survivors.

She was thankfully too far to see faces, but dragging her eyes to the place where her beloved uncle stood as a monument to the brutal slaughter, Mari questioned why this had happened. The Battavians lived in constant conflict with the Romans, but they had never been attacked so ruthlessly. But in retrospect, Mari knew something like this was inevitable. The war campaigns had gotten fiercer, her father was gone longer, and the men had rapidly set to building a protective fence, something that had never been necessary before. Remembering the last time she saw her father off, Mari wondered if he was still alive, except the thought was too overwhelming.

Muttering quick prayers to the gods to protect him, Mari shifted so that the pain in her side didn't ache as much and looked at Danea sniffling against her. The younger girl opened her eyes sadly and looked at her sister for any hope. She found no comfort in the green depths and sobbing at the loss of everything she knew, Danea tucked back into Mari's neck to cry some more. Mari in turn, offered cooing nonsensical words to her and kissed random spots in the blondish hair, remembering the ribbons she braided in it, in what seemed an eternity ago. Cuddled together in their warmth, the girls lay heartsick in despair and mourning until a massive, churning sound from the eastern woods broke through the cold night air.

Sitting up suddenly, Mari, Danea and every last soul that was in and around the ruins of Battavia squinted past the torches and still burning structures to see what was happening. The most experienced of the men, gripped their swords tightly and braced for the inevitable, for they had heard similar cries in the past. Those that didn't recognize the event, stood in awe at the terrifying sight of over one hundred Germanian men that poured from the forest with axes raised high. Those that reacted, did so quickly. Those that still marveled at the sight of the bushy, pelt wearing warriors, died brutal deaths as the men exacted revenge for the desecration of their homes. The generals on horseback scrambled to handle offensives at the unexpected coup and Mari and Danea just gaped as the dwindling battle took on a new life.

In an instant, the swarm of screaming men swooped over the ruins and engaged in hand to hand against the soldiers. The last remaining Battavians which were only moments away from being defeated, emerged from the meeting hall with renewed vigor and together, they felled anyone wearing the hated eagle breastplate symbolic of the Empire. Under the glow of the burning trees, men cleaved and gorged each other until Mari was sure no amount of rain would ever clean the soil of blood again. But Mari's eyes darted through the struggling masses, trying desperately to cling to hope. And when she spotted two furred shapes running towards them from amid the chaos, her heart heaved in joy. She turned to Danea, who was staring at the approaching pair in horror.

"It's Father!!"

Danea blinked at her older sister blankly, but looking at the two shapes cutting through the field, she took only a few seconds for recognition to set in. They could see that the two had lingering soldiers to contend with before reaching them, but they cut past them easily enough with their short knives and axes. Yelling and calling at the top of their lungs, Mari and Danea urged on their rescuers until they were close enough to make out their faces in the flickering firelight. Mari's jaw dropped as she recognized her father's craggy face and Geterian's handsome one.

Equally shocked, Danea shrieked in relief as they reached the wooden cage. Geterian pulled her to the bars and kissed her through the openings. Mari gasped at their irreverence, but was too focused on her father to really care.

"Father! You're back!"

"Of course I am, now move away."

Mari complied and pulled Danea back just as her father brought down his mullet on the lock. It shattered into pieces and a second later, both girls jumped to him in utter delight. Geterian grinned and cut their bindings. With hands free, Mari held his face in hers and for the first time that day, shed tears of relief. It was the same face that she knew and loved, but she could tell the year and a half he had been gone had taken their toll on the proud man. He had more wrinkles, a scar down his left cheek and his beard and braids were whiter.

"I missed you so much, Father."

"I did too, Mari, I did too."

Glancing at her sister to make sure she wasn't hearing, Mari searched for words.

"Uncle……"

The old warrior's eye's glistened in the illuminated night and he dropped his mullet and reached for Mari's face.

"I know, child. I saw him."

Suppressing her sob, Mari met her father's rough hand with her own and nodded sadly. He patted it briefly before scanning the fields in a quick assessment.

"We need to keep going."

Looking to the joyful reunion between Geterian and his youngest daughter with a wry smile and a fake warning grumble, the old warrior choose a path to the forest his men emerged from.

"Follow me closely."

Not waiting for a response, he started moving. Trotting through the fields at a half crouch, the four made their way uneventfully as the fighting continued further up ahead. Once at the edge of the forest, he turned to the younger man.

"Take them around the valley and up into the mountains. You know where."

Mari and Danea exchanged astonished looks. The joy Mari had felt at seeing her father again vanished.

"Wh-what? Father, aren't you coming with us?"

The older man closed his hand around Mari's arm and bore into her with old, tired eyes.

"I belong here. You and Danea have to……"

Mari watched the little hope she had shatter with his words when she saw his intent. Wrenching her arm away from him, she yelled back at him for the first time in her entire life.

"No! You belong with us! If you stay you'll end up dead!!"

Danea glanced back between her sister and her father in growing trepidation. Geterian saw this and lay an arm around her. Luckily, she still had her pack on and it would sustain them until they reached the safety of the mountains. Danea watched as her father looked hesitantly at his daughters. The man she remembered was never this tired. And this time he might not come back.

"Mari's right, please come with us."

Mari looked at her father plaintively and was about to ask again when a spray of hot blood dotted across her face. To her horror, her father's grey eyes widened slightly and he reached out to her. The arrow that traversed his neck was dripping blood of its end and staring at it dumbly, Mari screamed. At that same moment, her father fell to his knees and backwards. Ignorant of the arrows that were barely missing her, Mari reached out to catch him, but Geterian was there to prevent her.

Mari felt herself yanked to the ground and unable to process the screaming directed at her, wrenched from the hand that held her and crawled on all fours to the body of her father. The arrow had broken off when he fell and he was spurting blood from both his mouth and throat. Mari wiped his cheeks and mumbled how she loved him. Unable to form words himself, the old warrior sputtered as blood flooded his lungs and stole his breath. Still unaware of the danger she was in, Mari smoothed anxious hands over him and kissed his forehead until she was pulled away again forcefully. Screaming and yelling, Geterian dragged her away from her dying father. By the time soldiers reached him and plunged a sword into his heart, he was already dead.

Sobbing uncontrollably, Mari stumbled alongside Geterian and Danea blindly in the cold night, until the pain in her bruised rib could not let her continue. Leaning against a trunk to catch her breath, Mari wiped at the tears that blinded her and feeling faint, slid down to the ground. Unable to keep her tired eyes open, she surrendered to the mind-numbing cold easily enough.

"Mari, please wake up. They're still close!"

Under the faint light of the half moon, Mari recognized the bright ribbons in Danea's hair before the frantic urgency of her sister's voice penetrated the haziness she was in. She felt big hands putting pressure on her shoulder and grimacing at the pain, realized she was bleeding. Unable to speak, Mari reached a hand out to touch Danea's hair. She had always thought it was beautiful and suddenly aware that she had never told her enough, made an effort to move her lips.

"You're beautiful…Danea."

The younger girl held her sister and sobbed, much like she had been held earlier.

"Mari, you have to get up, we have to hurry."

Mari blinked slowly at Danea. The girl deserved to be happy and she had already lost so much. Danea was a delicate soul and she needed to be protected and taken care of. She was glad to have done it for so long, but that time was past now. Her vision slid to Geterian's anxious features. Maybe it was his turn now. Mari knew with certainty he loved Danea and would make sure she was happy. Forgetting her own pain, Mari reached out to trace the tears that streaked down Danea's face with a cold, trembling finger. She could see Geterian hovering behind her, trying to hear as much as he could of their pursuers, but she had something to say. Suddenly very calm and no longer crying, Mari focused the remaining energy left in her.

"Danea, you have to leave me here…"

Geterian snapped his head to look at her and Danea's eyes grew large.

"I-I-I can't, I can't lose you like father, I can't. I won't!"

"Shhh, you have to…you have a chance…you and Geterian."

Geterian kneeled closely to Mari and checked her wound over.

"I can carry you. I can and I know these woods and they don't, we can make it."

Mari shook her head slightly. Her pain was now easing away, bringing a deliciously ambivalent haze with it, but she fought it, still needing time with her sister.

"No…I'll slow you down…Please take her. Please go…you'll make it."

Mari watched warring emotions cross the young man's face as he thought it over. He was hesitant, but she saw that he agreed. Struggling to keep her suddenly heavy eyelids open, she turned to see Danea's panic stricken face.

"Don't feel bad……you'll be safe now……just remember how much……I love you. Always, Danea…I love you……love you……"

Mari repeated the words as many times as she could before fading away. Danea threw herself over Mari's body and rocked her just like Mari had rocked her countless times in the past, but there was no time left for them. Hearing the soldiers advancing through the darkness, Geterian urged Danea to say goodbye. Giving her oldest sister, best friend and protector a final solemn kiss, Danea and her future husband and father of all her children ran into the night.

Minutes later, Aerius' men reached Mari were she lay against a tree. Tired and out of breath, they had no intentions of going any further into the forest since they had a prize to take back figured they could claim to have killed the other two easily enough. Knowing the girl would most likely die, but reasoning that it was best to return to the lieutenant with something rather than empty handed, the biggest of the four bowmen carried her back to the fields, where the last of the captured barbarians were being systematically beheaded. Having no gold or anything remotely valuable, the barbarian battles yielded little aside from slaves and they knew the Lieutenant would be more than pleased at having recovered at least one girl.

For her part, Mari would always have dreams of that night. They were terrible nightmares in which the home she grew up in crumbled and forests she played in burned to the ground, where her uncle was crucified up high in his post for all to see and her father died in her arms. But horrible as they were, those nightmares always ended on a strangely surreal note. For years, she would wake from that memory with tears in her eyes. Tears for the family she lost and the woman she never saw Danea turn out to be.

Surrounded by fragrant green, Mari would see her beautiful face, eternally young and in love with colorful ribbons in her hair. She never remembered Danea crying inconsolably or running for her life, but rather smiling and giving her a soft kiss and repeating the words, `I'll love you always' softly into her hair before fading away into the dark.

Rub al-Khali, Southern desert of the Arabian peninsula The Gazir Oasis

Lo'gan checked the position of the moon as it began it's descent over the horizon and since it was almost halfway past gone, spurred Nayif on a little faster. Thankful that they had at least rested most of the night, Lo'gan was gambling that he and his men could cover the half-day's journey that was left to the oasis in only a few hours. He was at the head of his twelve horsemen and knowing that the Dawasir party was only a few lengths ahead of them, brought his stallion to a steady run that was followed by everyone. It was not a pace they could keep for long, but it was of the essence that they catch up to the Dawasir and reach Gazir first.

His only regret was that his father had come along. Chancing a glance to his right, Lo'gan checked to see how Khalaf was doing. The old Sheik was more used to the steady trot of camels by now, but he seemed to be doing well. His grip on the reins was secure and his horse kept up with Nayif well enough. The only thing that seemed odd was the Khanjar blade at his side. Lo'gan turned his attentions back on the sands up ahead not able to recall the last time he had seen him wear it. It was a beautiful piece, adorned with lavish gold tendrils on either side of the teak handle, but it seemed ill fitting to his increasingly tranquil character.

In his childhood, Lo'gan remembered the tales the clan poets told of his father's exploits in battle. He was truly feared and respected by the entire region, but as the years went by, something in the old man changed. His character was as noble and courageous as ever, but he was more subdued and serene in his dealings with others. In the always changing world of trade, it was wise to be conscious of ones enemies and protect your own clan's interests, but his connections with other merchants became more lenient and diplomatic in nature.

Lo'gan understood his desire to want unity and shared wealth among the clans, however, not everyone shared his father's thinking. The Dawasir were dangerous and clever and no matter how much Lo'gan tried, not a year went by that they didn't meet in violence. It was inevitable when you shared similar trade routes with your enemy. Riding into the direction of Gazir, Lo'gan prayed to the guardians of the desert that his father's quest for coexistence didn't give their sworn enemies the upper hand.

Checking to see his own Khanjar blade was tilted at a perfectly accessible angle, Lo'gan focused once again on the ground they were covering. It was about time that they intersected the rival clan and as if on cue, they went over the last dune just in time to see the Dawasir caravan up ahead. The moon was completely gone now and brought with it the darkest part of the dawn that precedes daybreak, but the nearly hundred camel procession had lit torches and oil lamps to light the way. The chain stretched out and spilled over many dunes and in the very fringes of this were the Dawasir horsemen. They did not have lamps, but their dark shadows were an even distance from each other as the whole convey moved. Just like the Jabir, they were on special alert.

Lo'gan felt his men perk up alongside him and made quick assessments of the distance they were to cover. He could tell the Dawasir were moving remarkably slow in their exhaustion to reach Gazir first and felt content that his own family was safe and sound far behind them. They had made plans before departing their own camp and on cue all thirteen men shouted into the night when he raised his hand and gave the signal.

"Strength and honor!!"

With their most formidable yell, the Jabir horsemen broke formation and in a full run moved to intercept their rivals. It wasn't often that two clans reach an oasis at the same time, but when they did, it was the first who stepped foot on it that could lay claim to it first. As expected, the Dawasir caravan fragmented in its panic. The Dawasir horsemen all twirled around in their saddles in an effort to see who had snuck up to them, and seeing the black and scarlet tassels that adorned the reins of the Jabir horses moving closer, immediately broke from the chaos of the convey to open ground.

Had it been anyone else, they would have clustered tightly around their families and possessions, but Khalaf and his men were not ruthless. They never stole their possessions or hurt their tribespeople. They were after only one commodity – water. But unfortunately that was more valuable than gold itself and something the Dawasir needed too. Breaking away as fast as they could from the alarmed people and scattering herds, the Dawasir headed for open ground just as the sun started to crown over the horizon. In any other situation, they would turn and fight head on, but this was not a fight, it was a race.

Despite their head start, the Dawasir horses were tired and thirsty. Lo'gan saw this and immediately tore off with his best two fighters at his side. The remaining ten spread out and tapered back, all together forming a V with Lo'gan at the head. Still using the advantage of surprise, the Jabir horsemen cut through the disorganized Dawasir and surpassed them easily enough. But that was not the end. The Dawsir formed a hasty V of their own and chased behind the others. Furious that his men were not prepared despite all the assurance that they were, The Dawasir leader, Salih, sought out his son in the crowd. Taking his old horse to the limit, he came up alongside him and slapped his camel switch across the hindquarters of his son's horse.

"Don't allow them to reach it first!!"

The animal burst into speed in response to the switch and giving his father a heated look back, Harabi pulled to the head of their own sloppy V quickly enough. But they were still some length away and the Jabir knew exactly what they were doing. Protecting Lo'gan at the head, they systematically closed in on the Dawasir formation in an effort to slow them down. The strategy was simple, but effective. Just as someone pulled ahead, a Jabir horseman would stall and cross his path, engaging him in a high speed maneuver that would force the yellow and black clad Dawasir to trip and fall behind.

The fall from a high speed chase was always a nasty one and before long a trail of groaning men were left in the dust. One by one, the Dawsir fell victim to this ploy until at very last the Sheik's son, Harabi, called to his men to fall back. The remaining five clustered around him and at full gallop, they began a different tactic.

Lo'gan looked back as the desert sky exploded in vibrant colors and seeing all of his twelve men still on either side of him, grinned. But in the distance, he could see the remaining Dawasir regrouping. About to raise his hand to signal a tighter grouping, he had a second thought as young Rakan came into view alongside him. Dropping his hand once again, he ventured one last look back, before stretching out his arm to either side. The Jabir looked at each other questioningly for a moment, but quickly did as they were told. They were expecting a command from Lo'gan to turn and fight, but instead he signaled for them to part six on either side of him. Khalaf hesitated the most, but eventually did as he was ordered just as the rumbling of the Dawasir horses passed them. He was going to exercise his authority to overrule Lo'gan's command, but he smiled instead as it became clear what Lo'gan was planning.

The scene around them was being bathed in light as the sun was rising slowly and it showed a marked change in the land. The sand was still everywhere, but interspersed in its dunes were small clumps of grass and the occasional shrub. Looking further up ahead past the Dawasir cluster of men and then Lo'gan, he could make out vague shapes in the distance. They were tall and pointed to the sky and anyone would recognize them from a distance as beacons. They signified lifewater and held guard to Gazir.

Lo'gan chuckled as he crossed another sand drift and the green landscape of Gazir came into better view. As lush and fertile as he remembered it, he grinned again, just as Nayif started moving faster of his own volition. He patted his horse and crouched a little lower in his saddle, knowing the stallion was tired, but as eager for water as he was. Not needing to look back to see that the Dawasir were right behind him, he decided to show just how magnificent his animal was.

Meanwhile, Harabi was nearly in a fit as it became clear that they were going to lose. Digging his sandaled feet into his new horse, he spurred the animal to run faster. He could recognize Lo'gan anywhere and tired of always being second, he decided to give the final leg of the race all he had. Taking out a sharp switch with little brass beads embedded at the end, he flogged his horse to move faster. Terrified, the animal responded and smiling at his advance, Harabi chuckled as he broke away from his men and was closing in fast on Lo'gan. Before he knew it, he had caught up and was almost neck and neck with the older man.

But surpassing Lo'gan was not be an easy task. Upping the stakes on their mad dash to the fertile oasis, Lo'gan crouched even lower to Nayif's bulging neck and encouraged the animal softly.

"Com'on Nayif, you're faster than this. We can make it."

Having ridden together for years, the animal responded to his master's voice and galloped at an even greater speed, tearing up the thickening grass under his hooves in the process. Meanwhile, Harabi's horse was starting to fall behind. He was still lightening fast, having left everyone else far behind, but Nayif was faster. Spurred on by love for his master rather than painful switches to his hide, Nayif tapped on his magnificent power and superior bloodline and pulled ahead of his competition easily. Harabi cursed and strapped his animal even harder, but Lo'gan and Nayif were long gone. Instantly feeling the change in air that the swaying palm trees produced, Lo'gan yelled triumphantly as Nayif reached the first palm tree that marked the entrance to the closest thing to paradise nestled in the desert expanses. Skidding the horse to a stop, Lo'gan patted his neck with pride and whispered in his large, pointed ear.

"I never had a doubt, boy, I never had a doubt."

Swinging his leg back to dismount the sweaty stallion, Lo'gan tore off his ghutra headpiece and threw it to the ground, then took his Khanjar blade out of his sash and walked to the nearest palm tree. Slicing the lowest fan shaped leaf off with a single swipe, he turned and walked back to where Nayif was munching happily on a few sprigs of grass and turned to face Harabi as he skidded to a stop also. His horse shuddered and frothed through his nostrils. Lo'gan actually felt a pang of pity for it, but seeing both the Jabir and the Dawasir approaching fast in the distance, held up the palm for all to see. Turning to face Harabi, who stumbled out of his saddle to the ground, he proclaimed.

"As our ancestors have done, I reached this oasis first and claim it for the Jabir."

Harabi smiled at his adversary ruefully.

"You are a jackal, son of Jabir. We got here first."

Lo'gan grinned cannibalistically at the younger man and flexed his grip on the blade in his hand. A short distance behind them, the men that were left standing approached the two in a cloud of dust. More interested in whether or not the two sons of Sheiks would fight instead of paying too much mind to each other, they eagerly watched for any sudden movements as they approached.

"Not where it mattered, boy. We have rights and you claim nothing."

"You only did so with trickery."

Lo'gan threw the palm to the ground and crossed his arms in annoyance. Dawasir had five sons and the one that aggravated him the most was the youngest. Unlike his brothers, he was less suited for fighting and more for haggling prices at a market than anything else. Had it been one of the other four, he would have fought him to a surrender by now, but with the squirrelly one, he had to listen to his inane ramblings and then check if anything was missing. He was a shifty, lying thief, three things Lo'gan hated.

"Accept your loss with honor and move on."

Harabi frowned and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"But it was a surprise charge. You cheated."

Grumbling at the insinuance that he was dishonorable, Lo'gan took a step forward and Harabi took a step back just as the horsemen finally reached them. They all dismounted quickly and moved to stand by their representatives, tired but ready. Khalaf wisely stepped forward to prevent conflict and knowingly placed a hand on Lo'gan's shoulder to still him.

"My son is honorable, he did not cheat anyone."

"So you say, old foe!"

Everyone turned to look at Salih Dawasir as he approached the stand-off. Khalaf was about to respond, but Lo'gan beat him to it. Taking a step forward, he looked at the assembled Dawasir clan menacingly.

"You disrespect my father!"

The eldest and biggest of Salih's sons was now the one that stepped forward to meet Lo'gan's challenge. Both their Khanjars were sheathed, but their hands rested on them lightly.

"It is true and a spit on your stolen claim!"

That said, the enormous man went to withdraw his blade, but changed his mind when in a sudden blur of movement, Lo'gan withdrew his first and pointed it to his neck. All the horsemen withdrew theirs in response to the lightning quick reflex, but it was Khalaf who spoke first.

"Enough!! This will accomplish nothing."

Lo'gan's jaw twitched as he heard his father's voice, but remaining still, kept the blade at the Dawasir's throat. The only movement was from Salih himself, who moved to face Khalaf.

"Call that coward away, old man, my son is right!"

Surprising everyone, Khalaf stepped forward and met his opponent head on. Lo'gan's head tilted slightly to watch everything carefully. He had never said so, but Lo'gan had suspicions that Salih was the reason his father limped. They were old enemies and his father always had an added edge around the other man. The tense stand-off continued as the two Sheiks considered each other carefully.

"It does not make a difference. We both need water and if you cooperate, you may have it once we are done. There is enough for all."

Momentarily stunned at his enemy's words, Salih stared at Khalaf blankly before bursting into laughter.

"You expect me to believe that you will allow us access to the well freely? Have you spent too much time in the noon sun, old man?"

"My word is good and I mean to do just that if you call your men off."

Khalaf motioned towards the man Lo'gan had a knife to and Salih's smile faded. He weighted his choices for a full silent minute, until he finally relented, spurred on more by the emptyness in his own water skin than concern for his clan.

"Fine! You can have first drink, but rest assure, if you cross my path again…"

"Nothing. There is no condition and you must leave until we are done."

Khalaf looked at his old adversary calmly and the Sheik had no choice but to turn away. With a signal, the Dawasir stepped back wearily and Lo'gan removed his hand slowly. The man who he gave a thin bloodline across the throat waited until he was out of Lo'gan's reach to spit on the ground defiantly. Lo'gan turned to look at his father and seeing a quiet command in his eyes, resheathed his blade and decided he would make the Dawasir pay another day. The rest of the Jabir horsemen followed suit and about to order an escort for the withdrawing Dawasir, Lo'gan stopped short when he spotted an unfamiliar object in the distance. The men followed his hand as he pointed in the direction of the well he had gained first rights to.

"There's something there."

Khalaf looked at his son questioningly, but before he could hold him back, Lo'gan was already running to see what it was. The rest followed suit and mounted and about to leave begrudgingly, Salih and his remaining horsemen waited to see what the commotion was about. Sensing opportunity, Harabi was the first to climb off his horse and head back. Curiosity getting the better of him, Salih relented and eventually followed his youngest and most troublesome son to see what was going on.

When they came to the clearing, Lo'gan gave him a threatening glare, but confident Khalaf would keep him in check, Salih puffed out his chest and ventured a question.

"What is it? What did you find?"

Khalaf stepped to the side slowly and let the Sheik see. It was a signpost with a brass engraving. Above the writing was the symbol they all recognized, whether they could read or not. It was a tiger paw, the imperial seal.

"It is a royal declaration."

Salih ran his eyes over the polished brass once more and wrinkled his nose in loathing.

"I can see that! But what does it mean?"

Lo'gan wiped his brow and answered for his father.

"Exactly what it says."

It was Harabi's turn to speak out. It didn't escape anyone how odd it was to be discussing the situation so calmly and in the presence of water without any efforts being made to reach for it.

"But that can't be right. The law has always secured what our profits are and they cannot be altered so……easily."

"Perhaps so, but changed them is what he's done and unless we can plead our case to the Sultan, there is little else we can do once the trade season begins."

Sensing a plan, Salih approached Khalaf in thought. Everyone tensed at the reaction, but kept their weapons in place, knowing that the royal decree would affect them all and enemies or not, they had to get along for a short while until the matter was solved.

"Are you suggesting that we see him in person? That is ridiculous! We cannot afford to lose our next rendezvous with the northerners and he will not listen. I suggest we ignore this nonsense and go about our business."

Khalaf looked at his opponent tiredly and shook his head.

"Do that and you will find yourself without buyers. What good is it if you make trade with the northerners if you cannot sell your merchandise in the southern cities? The Sultan is being unreasonable, yes, but if we do not challenge these unfair taxes now, be prepared to be sent away when you wish to enter the city. His greed runs deep and he is already threatening our lifewater itself."

"And if he refuses and expects us to pay his ridiculous tariffs, then what good it will do us to trade if he will keep it all? Ignore this decree, Khalaf, and prepare your swords if he refuses entrance to the city. It will serve him no purpose to keep away the merchants he needs."

"That is not so, Salih. We both know he has negotiated trade with the Egyptian across the sea. We are no longer as essential and because of it, he is trying to squeeze every last coin from us. We must plead our case, for it is our livelihood. Our families depend on it."

Salih bowed his head in thought and considered the inscription by the well carefully. He knew what Khalaf said was true and like it or not, his best chances of not having to pay the higher tariffs rested with his adversary.

"Very well. But who will you send to speak on your behalf? Not that savage, I hope."

Lo'gan grumbled from where he stood, but kept in place. Khalaf ignored the comment and continued.

"He can do the job well and because your clan is named in this decree also, you should pick someone to join him."

Sensing what his father had in mind, Lo'gan looked up, hoping against hope that it wouldn't come to pass, but Salih's smile assured him it would.

"I choose Harabi, of course. He will certainly gain the Sultan's compassion with his skillful debate"

Lo'gan and several of his men snorted and chuckled, much to the young Dawsir's dismay, but he grinned from ear to ear at his father's approval nevertheless.

"Then it is settled. You are welcomed to take water now. We can discuss the details at a majlis council tonight."

Offering only a short nod of agreement, Salih turned and left, leaving his men to take from the well enough for everyone. Giving quick orders for his men to water the horses and keep an eye on the Dawasir, Lo'gan caught up to Khalaf, who was already planning by the wayside.

"Lo'gan, good, we need to speak at length. You need to prepare for this meet, we have to fetch the tribe and we only have hours."

Before his father could continue, Lo'gan paused him with a hand.

"I am please that you chose me, father, but I cannot go."

The Sheik looked at Lo'gan with confidence.

"You must. I trust you to defend our interests."

"But I am not a negotiator, or even a merchant, I am a fighter and you will be defenseless if the Dawasir decide to attack."

"I assure you he will not. It is in his best interest for you to succeed and besides, you always represent us well. You will do adequately."

Frustrated that he was not being dissuaded, Lo'gan flexed his hands and picked a date growing off a nearby tree. He wanted to argue and decline but he never really could when his father needed him to do something. Faintly wondering why the Sultan would be so selfish as to ask for such an increase in trade tariff to begin with, Lo'gan turned the date he had in his fingers and watched the Dawasir walk back to their horses, happy to have had a cool drink of water and with their skins filled. Spotting his biggest objection in the crowd, he raised an eyebrow.

"But why did it have to be Harabi?"

Khalaf chuckled and patted Lo'gan's shoulder with understanding.

"He is not that bad. You can survive it, I assure you."

Lo'gan threw the date he had been fingering and looked at the slight movement of breeze that moved through the taller palm trees.

"I'll do it. But remember, there is a storm coming. Make sure you far north when it arrives."

Khalaf grinned triumphantly.

"Of course, my son, of course. Let's us go and plan."

Lo'gan sighed heavily and went along, listening carefully to all his father had to say. Four hours later, with both clans camped on either side of the oasis, they met with the Dawasir to share their thoughts with the elders in council. Three hours after that, Lo'gan and Harabi left on their horses with a camel each and enough food and water to cross three weeks worth of desert. They were headed to Ma'in, in hopes that they could see the Sultan and disway him from raising the tariffs on trade, with no discernable idea of the adventures and challenges that lay ahead.

Military camp off the eastern banks of the Rhine River, in the northern borders of Roman held territories, Black Forest, Europe

Valeria shivered involuntarily in her thin cloak and rubbed her hands together to generate heat while she crossed the camp to her tent. There were soldiers assembled in clusters here and there, but she was not interested in meeting any at the moment. Ignoring their lascivious remarks and propositions, she walked quickly in the cold mud and was almost to her tent when a familiar voice stopped her.

["Will you be available later?"]

Valeria turned slowly to see Lieutenant Aerius leaning against one of the transport cages. She cast a longing look towards her tent just a few feet away, but knew she had to play her cards right if she wanted a new coat. Putting on her most mischievous smile, Valeria moved towards him and shrugged playfully.

["You know I have the girl to take care of."]

Aerius caught the finger she was running down his breastplate and looked around to see if anyone was watching them. Taking the slender digit to his lips, he bit it lightly and smiled at Valeria's gasp.

["She's not going to make it, come see me tonight. I have something for you."]

Valeria took her hand back and ignoring the bitter smell of ale on his breath, winked at him saucily.

["Tonight, then."]

Smiling to himself, the lieutenant walked away and Valeria finally entered her tent. Moving the entrance flap aside hastily, she walked straight to the lamp hanging from the middle beam and wrapped both of her hands around the base. Instantly warmer, she sighed tiredly and looked over at the girl lying in her bed. It had been seven days since Aerius' men brought her in and in all that time, the girl hadn't woken up once. Valeria sat by the thin bed and felt along her forehead. The fever had broken, but despite her best efforts, she was still unconscious.

Figuring she was going to spend another night away from her bed anyway, Valeria decided to leave the girl where she lay and moved to her crate and started sorting through her things to find something suitable to wear. Not that Aerius cared much, but she was a professional and believed in always being prepared. He had already started drinking and on these nights it wasn't uncommon that he would be passed out before she reached him. In that event, she could salvage the night and still make a profit by seeking someone else out.

Finding her favorite violet colored scarf, she shed her cloak, draped it dramatically over her shoulders and was about to add a touch of perfume when a mumble interrupted her. Dropping the bottle, Valeria swung around and gasped.

["Gods, you're awake!"]

Mari moaned at the pressure in her shoulder and blinked at the bright light that hung over her. Her mind was a swirl of confusing thoughts and images and not remembering how she came to be on a bed or who was talking to her, sat up and struggled against the hands that felt along her face.

"Get away!"

Valeria let go as soon as Mari started babbling, remembering that she spoke a different language. The Germanic tribes each had distinct dialects according to region, but they were surprisingly similar and the current campaign to eradicate them, had given her ample opportunity to practice several. Taking a moment to recall the words, Valeria spoke slowly and tried a different tactic with the frightened girl.

"I'm, I'm not going to hurt you, sweetie. Please calm down."

Mari stared hazily at the woman dressed in purple through heavy eyes. Her whole body ached and her head felt incredibly heavy. Bringing a hand to it, Mari looked at her new surroundings in escalating panic.

"W-where am I? My sister is……"

Valeria reached out and clasped one of Mari's shaking hands.

"She's not here, sweetie."

"But she was with me and……"

Valeria shook her head slowly and tried to make her understand.

"She's not here."

Mari's eyes began to glisten as everything came crashing back. Her home was burned, her uncle and father were dead, and Danea had run into the night with ribbons, whispered words, and a gentle kiss. Looking down in sorrow, Mari let the heavy tears that gathered in her tired eyes fall to her lap.

Valeria knew something of Mari's story from one of her clients, and slowly moved in closer to her. Mari was soon shaking with sobs and careful not to disturb her still bandaged shoulder, Valeria wrapped her arms around her thin frame and let her cry. It occurred to her that she would be late for her rendezvous with Aerius, but feeling the pain the girl exuded, chose to stay.

As the person responsible for keeping the females that were to be sold into slavery, she had encountered an astonishing amount of girls over the years. She traveled with the Roman legions on occasion and took them in for safe keeping while the men fought and pillaged. Some were made to be prostitutes right away. Some were virgins and sold for a higher price to merchants. Depending on whom they were fighting, the girls could either be Celts or Franks or Germanians. But the differences were unimportant as they all came in crying, scared and lonely.

Her job was simple. Clean them up, teach them what they were supposed to do and see that they brought in a good price. Valeria performed these tasks perfunctorily. She herself was a slave of sorts, forced to serve the soldiers in between their campaigns and traveling merchants to seal business deals. It was purely survival and a way to keep herself clothed and fed as well, but occasionally a girl would touch her heart in a profound way. No matter how much she avoided becoming involved, some made her feel almost human again. They reminded her of the carefree, adventurous kid she once was and made her forget what she had become.

The minute Valeria saw Mari, she instantly knew she could grow to love her. She was bloodied, bruised and half-dead, making her not really worth the effort profit-wise, but Valeria saw something in Mari's pale, pretty face that she thought was very worth saving. Refusing to leave her in a wooden cage outside in the cold, she had a soldier lay her down in her own bed and saw to her personally in between her rounds.

As the days passed and Mari's fever got worse, Valeria wondered if Aerius was right in saying that she was trying to earn redemption by helping the girl, but she continued to do it faithfully. Smiling into Mari's dark auburn hair as she cried on her shoulder, Valeria wondered. Maybe she was and maybe she wasn't, but the fact that the girl was alive at all was her doing and in a life that she did little out of consideration for others, she knew that helping the girl was noble. In the back of her mind, her grandmother's voice echoed to her that the gods always noticed noble, selfless acts and Valeria desperately wanted to atone for her ways. Pulling Mari back gently, she looked deep into her eyes and asked the question she had speculated on for a week.

"What is your name?"

Mari sniffled and wiped at her face with her free hand awkwardly. Having cried for a long stretch on the bright shawl of the woman, she was calmer and more curious about who the woman was and where they were.

"I'm Mari. Are you……how do you……"

Valeria smiled at the delicate sounding name. Not what she had guessed, but it suited her well.

"I'm Valeria, and yes I am a Roman, but not how you think. I'm not a citizen of the Empire, I just work for them."

Mari blinked her enormous eyes at the brightly dressed woman. She was beautiful for sure, but had the strangest mark running down the right side of her face. It was the bluish color of a bruise, but couldn't be since it was in the perfect shape of a diamond whose point ended on her cheek. She was wrapped in thin fabric robes that Mari had never seen before. Looking down at her own pelt skins, she felt worthless in her presence. For the first time in her life, Mari understood why the Romans referred to her people as barbarians. People that could weave such fine colors would think nothing of fur skins peeled away from dead animals. Suddenly uncomfortable, Mari sat up straighter and looked around apprehensively.

"But then how could you speak……"

Valeria stood up and walked to the crate she had dropped her perfume in, knowing that Mari was now becoming aware of her surroundings and needed the safety that distance provided.

"I have worked with many girls and traders. Inevitably I pick up their language. I can speak several. You can say I have the gift of speech."

Valeria touched her things absentmindedly and flashed Mari a smile. To her relief, Mari had stopped crying, but the look that she had told her she was contemplating a run for it. She had to try harder to keep her in place.

"Where are we then? What do you want with me?"

"We are in a military encampment just four days from the Danube River. This is where legions rest, regroup and restock. And what I want is for you to be still so that your shoulder heals properly. You have been unconscious for days."

Suddenly aware again of the dull ache in her shoulder, Mari spread open her pelt coat and looked at the bandages that were wrapped around her shoulder tightly. Having seen the Roman soldiers systematically kill her entire village, it didn't make sense that she was being taken care of so well.

"How many days was I asleep and why……why have you done this?"

Valeria moved to increase the light that lit the tent in an effort to look busy and non-threatening and answered without looking at Mari.

"Seven and I had to, you would have died."

At the sound of the word `died' Mari's eyes changed. The suspicion and fear vanished instantly to leave only sorrow. Valeria saw this and regretted her choice of words. Trying hard not to think of her father's and uncle's bodies out in the open for seven days, Mari swallowed painfully and picked at the bandage carefully, peeking at the sutures in place. The skin around the jagged scar was still swollen and discolored, but she could see it was well on its way to being healed.

"Thank you, umm, for doing this. You must be a great healer."

Without really meaning to, Valeria chuckled. Mari's head snapped up and Valeria knew she needed to expand on her role, since it was obvious Mari hadn't really understood yet.

"I'm not a healer, Mari. Far from it."

Mari blinked at Valeria in confusion. A little of the mistrust they held earlier found its way back into the green depths of her eyes.

"I'm a prostitute, Mari. I serviced the field surgeon in exchange for him to seal your wound."

Valeria glanced at Mari to gauge her reaction and seeing nothing but rapt attention, continued before she lost her nerve. She usually made these speeches very quick and matter of fact, but something about the innocence in Mari's young face made it unbearably hard this time.

"These clothes, my things, it's all given to me in trade. I also take in girls. This may be hard to understand but they brought you to me……"

"As a slave."

Valeria looked up to catch the pain that flashed through Mari's eyes. She could tell she understood fully now and to solidify the fact, she added solemnly.

"Yes, Mari, as a slave to be sold to the highest bidder."

The two women stared at each other for a full minute, Valeria tried desperately to read Mari's reaction and Mari desperately tried to fathom the cruel destiny that brought her to where she lay. Still caught in the impossibility of it all, Mari jumped up and ran to the tent entrance. Tearing it open, she gasped at the sight of hundreds of small tents pitched in the frozen black mud of a riverbank. It was nighttime, but there were men everywhere, practicing fighting along the river, drinking, walking, laughing, even huddling around fires. All were clothed in shiny brass breastplates and scarlet robes and talking in a language she could not understand.

Not really entirely conscious of Valeria's frantic words behind her as she tried holding her back, Mari felt a wave of dizziness overcome her. She was weakened from her fever and had gotten up too suddenly but it was mostly the thought of being among the enemy that made her queasy. Grabbing onto Valeria for support, Mari let herself be taken back inside into the warmth of the tent she had awoken in. Valeria was saying all kinds of things to her, it was comforting she knew, because Valeria's hands smoothed over her hair and stroked her face, but Mari really couldn't make anything of it. She slid to the ground numbly until it suddenly stopped.

There was a man in the tent now, and although Mari didn't turn to look at him, she recognized the cadence in his garbled speech well enough. It was the same man that had inspected her and Danea when they were captured. Remembering the feel of his hands roughly outlining her body, it all clicked into place. She was a slave and she would be made to give herself over to whoever bought her. She would disgrace her family and bring shame to herself because she would never be a proper wife or mother to anyone. She would be property, to be used and discarded and never, ever loved.

Hearing the words between Valeria and the man increase in volume, Mari looked up slowly. She saw the annoyance in his features and holding her breath, watched as he walked over and picked her up by her hurt arm. She grimaced and cried out in pain as the tender flesh tore and before it faded enough to allow her to think, she found herself being dragged outside to where a row of wooden cages were lined up against Valeria's tent. Mari was taken to an empty one and shoved inside. She landed in a heap in the far corner and too overwhelmed to react, curled into a ball and watched the man stomp back, pull Valeria roughly by the hair and push her back inside the tent. She could make out the anger in Valeria's eyes, but she went passively enough.

Mari stared at the flap of the tent for an eternity, as the night slowly grew darker and colder. Gradually, the men bustling all around disappeared into their tents to sleep, leaving only the dogs and slaves to the mercy of the late fall chill. Eventually, Mari allowed herself to move ever so slightly. Looking over at the row of cages to her side, she could make out a few shivering shapes in each one. Some had several people, nestled close for heat, but not having anyone with her, Mari huddled into her pelt coat and watched her breath crystallize in the air.

The last time she was in a cage, Danea was with her. Now she was alone and although it was unbearably cold and frightening to be among the sworn enemy, Mari smiled faintly. She had once wondered how she was ever going to get used to sleeping alone once her sister married and left home, now Mari thanked the gods that she was far away, with the man who loved her. She thought of the mountains and how safe they were, in each other's arms with their stomachs full even if their hearts were heavy. The image made Mari feel better and actually lessened the bite in the wind and her own stomach's emptiness. Danea was safe and she would gladly suffer in exchange for the satisfaction that the hated Romans couldn't get to her. Yes. They were safe and she would accept her fate in exchange of it. Her uncle had given his life for Battavia, her father had given his for his daughters, and Mari would surrender her own for her sister's.

In their fishing expeditions, her uncle always spoke of destiny and how it always led you to someplace new, because it understood what you couldn't. Mari never understood what he meant as a child, but on that bitterly cold night, it became very clear to her.

Swearing never to feel sorry for herself or cry for them again, Mari said goodbye to her family and accepted her new life. Not because she was giving up, but because she would see Danea again. She was a Battavian and Battavians could never be slaves. She would not die someone else's property. She would not surrender her will over to anyone. She would escape eventually and find her. It would take time, maybe a very long time, but Mari had a goal to spur her on and dreams and memories to hold onto meanwhile. She would do it and make her father proud.

Rub al-Khali, Southern desert of the Arabian peninsula, moving southwest towards coastal Ma'in, the Imperial city-state

Lo'gan looked back to check on his camel as the bright sun beamed down on them mercilessly. It was close to midday and in the open, they could not last long at the rate they were moving. They had left Gazir in the cool of the night in order to get a good start, but the air had grown still and the sun unbearably hot. The camels were slow, having drunk water for hours and Nayif had been perspiring steadily for almost two hours. Patting his neck in understanding, Lo'gan turned him and took hold of the reins attached to his pack camel and stopped them both.

Without consulting his companion, Lo'gan dismounted and began to lead both his animals to the flatter area in between two large dunes just slightly ahead. They provided no shade, since the sun was directly over them, but the little wind that was available was always magnified when rushing in through the space between two dunes. Harabi followed with a frown and watched Lo'gan unpacking in irritation. He knew the three week trip to the coast would be hard with a Jabir in tow, but he had not expected to be ignored the entire way.

"Why are we stopping?"

Lo'gan wiped his forehead and continued to unbuckle his camel that had since lain down. Nayif stood by the wayside, and Harabi could have sworn he was waiting for Lo'gan to move to him next. Still feeling slighted at having lost the race to claim Gazir, the young Bedouin gave the black stallion a reproachful glance and approached Lo'gan.

"Don't ignore me, you heard me ask a question."

Lo'gan flashed him a dangerous look and in only one movement, heaved the three hundred pound pack off of his camel with a grunt and let it fall to the side. Harabi's eyes widened at his obvious show of strength and crossed his arms in thought. Maybe it was best to leave the brooder alone for now.

Moving to his own animals, he began doing the same as his companion, occasionally glancing in Lo'gan's direction to see what else he was doing. It wasn't uncommon to make side trips away from the clan, but whenever they did, Harabi had someone else unpack his things. Men seldom did their own moving and he had little experience with it. Apparently, big scary Lo'gan did and that only meant that he didn't have a woman to undo his packs. With a smirk, Harabi continued his unfurling, mentally storing that bit of knowledge for future use.

Unfortunately, it was taking longer than he thought. While Lo'gan had finished putting up an open canopy to provide shade over himself and his animals, Harabi was still struggling with the bindings on his camel. But he wasn't the only one tiring. Frustrated with the tugging on her thick fur, the camel turned and snapped at Harabi's hand and bellowed out at him before moving away and settling down on her own. Harabi fell back from the unexpected attack, rubbed his arm where the beast had nipped him, and blinked stupidly at Lo'gan who was laughing from where he was resting and watching him. Indignant, Harabi yanked his ghutra off in frustration and looked at Lo'gan heatedly.

"The least you can do is help me."

Still chuckling, Lo'gan popped a date in his mouth and opened the mouth fitted to his waterskin.

"It seems that you have no idea what to do with camels as well as horses."

Harabi stood up quickly and brushed the sand off his robes.

"Perhaps, I prefer spending my time with people rather than animals."

Lo'gan took a quick drink, savoring the freshness in the water and shrugged.

"Turn around and go back then."

Flinging his headcloth to the ground, Harabi went to fetch his own waterskin, suddenly very thirsty once he saw Lo'gan take his.

"Insult all you want, son of Jabir, you will not be the only one speaking to the Sultan. My father is depending on me and you will not stop me."

Lo'gan shrugged and kept popping dates in his mouth, clearly enjoying the younger man's frustration.

"Maybe not, but an angry camel will."

Harabi turned to look at his camel and all the antagonism he felt melted away. The animals were notoriously stubborn if they didn't want to move and his was starting to look it. Dropping down to the sand, he looked at for a long minute, before turning to Lo'gan in defeat.

"What does it want, then?"

Lo'gan snorted and raised an eyebrow high into his forehead.

"Food, water, someone who will not overload her and push her too far. The same things you would want."

Harabi leaned back and looked at the animal in contempt.

"I thought they can carry twice as much and cover almost a hundred dictas in a day."

"She could if she weren't so heavy with water……and pregnant. Not very bright of you to have picked a pregnant one, Dawasir."

Harabi blinked in astonishment.

"Pregnant?"

Lo'gan smirked at his expression.

"A little camel, inside that one."

"I know what it means! It's just that……well……"

"I'll take care of it."

With that, Lo'gan stood and walked over to the rebellious camel. Harabi stood also ready to protest, but to his surprise, she let Lo'gan approach and pat her wooly head. After a few moments, Lo'gan slowly unlatched her pack and looked at Harabi pointedly.

"Only riding dulahs can cover that much ground. Pack carriers can only cover a fourth of that. Now get your ass over here and help me."

Harabi stared at Lo'gan in surprise and only moved when Lo'gan asked again.

"Are you going to just stare all day?"

"No. No. I'll help."

Harabi hustled over and positioned himself by the opposite end of the enormous pack that rested on his camel's single hump and together they lifted it up and dropped it to the side. Lo'gan shook his head sadly and pet the camel's woolly head some more. It blinked its thick eyelashes at him and before Harabi could protest, Lo'gan took out his Khanjar blade. Harabi almost swallowed his tongue at seeing it glimmer in the sunlight and quickly moved to stop him.

"No!! What do you think you're doing? She's a good camel!"

Lo'gan raised one eyebrow, then another, as a smile grew on his face.

"I'm not going to hurt the camel, you idiot, I'm going to get rid of all the junk you're carrying before you do it, so step aside."

Harabi closed his hanging jaw in mid protest and watched sheepishly as Logan slashed open the bindings to the suede pack and started tossing different items into the sand. When he was done a few minutes later, nearly half of his things were laying in a heap and only a few clothes, his food supplies, canopy and tent remained. Lo'gan surveyed his work and with a pleased grunt, walked back into the shade of his canopy, leaving Harabi to wonder what would really happen if he did go back. Plopping down on the carpet he unrolled next to his own smaller pack, Lo'gan lay on his back and shifted around trying to get comfortable.

"I suggest you get your animals under some shade and get some rest as well, we move in a few hours."

"I have a say in when we move……"

"Just do it. It's too hot right now and we can travel faster once the sun lets up."

Harabi kicked at the sand under his feet and picked up his favorite oil, which lay in the trash heap and snuck it under his robes. If he was going to Ma'in, whorehouses were a definite stop and he needed to maintain his ability to charm intact. Spotting another necessary item, he tucked it away as well, and set to the task of putting up his canopy. It took him much longer than Lo'gan, but eventually he did it and feeling triumphant, turned to see if Lo'gan had seen, but the Jabir was fast asleep. Celebrating his accomplishment on his own, Harabi then moved his animals and lay down to catch some rest as well. In the dry, thick heat, he was asleep in no time and awoke only when Lo'gan nudged him with his foot a few hours later.

"Pack up, Dawasir, we have to move."

Harabi sat up and looked around with a yawn. Lo'gan was almost done packing and if he didn't move quickly, he would leave him behind for sure. He stood and stretched and rolling up his things gave Lo'gan a considering look. He was quiet and dangerous, but trustworthy. He had personally dealt with him very little and his brothers detested him, but his father thought differently. It was no secret, he valued his brothers' fighting, but it was with him that Salih spoke with the most and Harabi spent countless hours listening to his father muse over Khalaf and his quiet son. To the clan, he was a hated rival, but Harabi knew better. His father was once friends with the Jabir Sheik and he respected both him and his son greatly. Rumor had it he was not even his true son, but one thing was sure, they shared the same sense of duty and Salih knew it. If he had thought Lo'gan was treacherous, he would have never sent him along with him to Ma'in in the first place.

Brushing off the sand that collected in his robes, Harabi looked around to see what he should do first. Seeing his horse twitching by the wayside, he moved to pat it gingerly like he had seen Lo'gan do. To his surprise the animal responded by placing his large snout in his hand and Harabi rubbed it gently before moving to pack up his things. This time he was more efficient and much quicker but having finished, looked questioningly at his camel. That fact that she was pregnant did not ease his apprehension at being bitten again and not knowing quite how to strap her back up, scratched his head in confusion. Fortunately, Lo'gan was watching him and without saying a word, walked over to help. Together they fitted her nicely and grateful that her load was lighter, the camel unfolded her long limbs quickly and cooperated as she was secured to Harabi's saddle.

When he was done, Lo'gan walked back to Nayif and mounted his stallion. Pulling ahead of the four animal caravan, he was lost in his calculations of the ground they needed to cover when Harabi unexpectedly called to him. Knowing that Lo'gan hadn't heard what he had said, Harabi repeated himself solemnly.

"I said thank you. For, uhh, helping me. And you can call me Harabi."

Lo'gan nodded and added,

"And I am Lo'gan."

Harabi grinned despite himself and Lo'gan went back to his musings. At first he thought the young Dawasir was going to be a complete hindrance, but in the short time they had spent together, he had shown that he could learn. Even though it was incredibly stupid to have chosen a pregnant camel as his pack animal, at least he was trying and that was more than he had originally thought of him. Watching the sun slowly inch towards the horizon, Lo'gan decided that maybe he had underestimated him. The sentiment held for all of three minutes, until Harabi started singing about lost loves. Grinding his teeth together, Lo'gan amended his opinion. They were still twenty days away from their destination and that was plenty of time to kill him if he had to.

Moving southeast along the Danube River, Under the Carpathian Mountains towards the Black Sea, Europe

Mari looked up at the sound of familiar voices and came across Valeria's painted eyes staring at her. She was lost in thought and nodded slightly at what Aerius was saying to her, but Mari could see the boredom and regret in her eyes clearly. The lieutenant looked drained also but was alert to his surroundings nevertheless. He seldom liked to be seen in Valeria's company for too long and looked ill at ease talking to her in broad daylight; however, it was no secret to anyone that they had a long-standing relationship.

Mari sighed tiredly and drew her legs up. The leg irons that held her feet together were heavy to pull around, but she needed to stay tucked into herself if she was to stay warm. Resting her chin on her up drawn knees, Mari stared at the two and tried to discern what was being said. In the four weeks that the convoy had followed the river, she had learned some key words in Latin, mostly for commands, but nearly all of the language and its puzzling `s' sounds still remained pretty much a mystery.

Mari thought of her Uncle Cloarin, who was very adept at everything. He was a brilliant man and even knew how to decipher carved symbols, something no one else in Battavia could do. Mari was sure he would have understood the Roman's speech by now and idly wondered if his body was still pinned to his watchtower or if someone cut him down.

Perhaps Danea and Geterian would have seen to it. They'd return when it was safe to and incinerate both him and their father with many offerings, clutching their long swords to their chests like tradition dictated for great warriors. Mari sighed heavily at the thought and figured that's what would have happened. Mari had not cried for them since she promised herself that she wouldn't anymore, but it still hurt deep in her chest to think of them. Willing herself to swallow the emotion that threatened to choke her, Mari focused again on the couple speaking a short distance away.

Aerius bent over as a fit of coughing overtook him. Valeria snapped out of her haze long enough to pat his back, but he quickly straightened out and stepped out of her reach in embarrassment. Looking to see if anyone had seen, he regarded her with a reproachful look and continued spewing out commands. Mari smiled faintly at that. She knew from his coughing that he was sick with a cold and it ran deep in his body. No matter how many fine cloaks they wore, she had learned rather quickly that the Romans were not well suited for cold weather. As winter progressed and the cold closed over them all, they collectively looked worse and worse. Skins and a better diet was what they needed, but she figured it was just that he suffered a little for all the trouble he caused them, Valeria included.

In the time they had spent traveling, Valeria had proven herself to be very compassionate person and Mari liked her immensely. It was true that she was the keeper of slaves, but she did not hurt them or make things harder than they had to be. On the contrary, she occasionally negotiated better food for them when kills were made and even extended their breaks to allow for a little walking. And the greatest prizes of all were the blankets that she acquired the week before from the general himself. Mari refused hers and gave it to one of the younger, sicker girls, not wanting to take something that Valeria had to earn in that way, but she was thankful nevertheless.

It became clear that even though she was only a woman, Valeria held a degree of power with the Romans and Mari knew that her dealings with the general was the reason Aerius resented her so much at times. Because she was hitched closest by her tent, Mari heard things, and although she couldn't make out the words they spoke, Aerius always screamed and carried on when Valeria surpassed his authority and went to see the old general herself.

She later learned from Valeria that Aerius had initially ordered her to be left behind, but she had gone to the general and gotten permission to nurse her back to health. The thought saddened Mari beyond words, but she was grateful and learned her first words in Latin to tell her so. She supposed that was one of the reasons Aerius hated her so much too. That and the fact that Valeria liked her so much, but Mari knew it was something else as well. She had almost escaped when her father and Geterian rescued her and Danea and that was something that hurt his pride. Seeing him snap his head around to see what Valeria was looking at, Mari quickly looked down to avoid drawing his attention. He had seen her however, and offered a few curt words to Valeria before stomping off with her in tow.

Still looking down at her knees, Mari didn't move until she was sure they were gone. Confirming this with a cautious peek through her choppy bangs, she let her legs fall again in the small wooden cage. By accident she nudged her cellmate and moving her legs away quickly, mumbled an apology.

"Ohh, I'm sorry."

Her cellmate moaned half heartedly and pulled tighter into herself. Mari sighed sadly and debated whether or not to touch her. It was hard to deal with her cellmate and she had found it best to just let her be.

For the first three weeks of their trek up alongside the river, Mari was alone in her tiny cage. Then she was brought in. At first she tried speaking to the girl, telling her of herself and asking questions, but the girl was silent and just huddled in a corner all day. Worried that she was not eating, Mari eventually asked Valeria what was wrong with her and got a chilling response. No one knew her name and she couldn't eat because her tongue had been cut off for spitting at a soldier. They had little hopes of her surviving, but brought her along just in case.

Determined to help her, Mari took to giving her a little water here and there, eventually moving on to more solid things while she healed, but the girl remained dazed and withdrawn. Having known of a woman in Battavia that behaved the same way after her son and husband were lost in battle had killed herself, Mari wondered just how far into despair her cellmate would disappear into. About to touch her to see if she was all right, Mari gasped as the cage hitched forward.

Their rest was over as the stuck wagon in front was pulled out of the mud and slowly, all the interconnected cages lurched forward, propelled by giant ox and a few of the younger male slaves chained to the axel beams further up ahead. The procession was a slow one that bumped and jostled everyone in the cages as it rolled over a muddy trail littered with stones, ruts and protruding tree roots. Mari tightened her hold on the cage bars and eased over to her cellmate, who lay listlessly on the opposite end, and stuffed her hood so that her head didn't band against the floorboards whenever they bounced up and down. Retreating to her own side, Mari eased down and prepared for what was sure to be a very long day.

Watching the cold expanse of the river peak out through the trees on occasion, Mari tried to fathom where she was heading. The river was so wide, she couldn't see the other side most times and she was sure she had never even heard of it before. It occurred to her that she knew only one place well and that was gone and that it had been a very, very small little corner of the world.

When she awoke four weeks ago, they were still in areas she could recognize. The evergreens were tall and the air was crisp. Then as they began to move into higher elevations, the air thinned out and the trees receded to being bushes and shrubs. Eventually, the land evened out again and they reentered the forest, although it was a markedly different forest than she was used to. The trees were leaf bearing and low. The forest floor was littered with saplings and smaller treelings, making it harder to move.

And in all that time, the chill in the air had steadily increased. There was no doubt that winter had arrived. It had snowed heavily a few days back and huddled outside in the numbing cold, two girls and five of the men that walked alongside them interconnected at the ankles with heavy chains, did not wake up the next morning. Mari watched them pull the bodies out of their chains and leave them by the wayside with a cold type of indifference that bothered her. She had always been a very empathic soul and to not shed a tear for the dead now bothered her. She reasoned that it was necessary in order to remain sane, part of her pact never to cry over her lost family even, but guilt gnawed at her nevertheless.

Looking over at the huddled figure of her cellmate, who after two weeks still remained nameless to her, Mari suppressed a shiver. She did not want to turn that cold, that unfeeling, but how could she when everything she was surrounded in was dipped in misery? Gritting her teeth together so that they did not cut into her tongue when the wooden cage skipped, Mari closed her eyes to clear her thoughts and then opened them a minute later, trying hard to focus on the scenery they were crossing and not the wretched humanity that accompanied her.

She remained that way for hours, wondering just how much land there was to see in the world, until the sky darkened and the cold picked up again. Only this time, it was much darker than the usual. They typically stopped in huge clearings along the trail at night. It was clear by the way the land was flattened out and the few structures, that the trail was utilized often, but the delay in freeing the wagon earlier that day had cost them at least a few hours and by the time they reached the next designated clearing on the trail, it was considerably darker than it normally was. The men moved quickly under Aerius' orders and wondered if they were going to be allowed a break that day. Mari watched the stirrings carefully.

When things didn't go according to plan, it meant opportunity, and Mari was always looking for opportunity. Unlike the other girls, Mari had a reason to escape. She was in a bind now but she was certain that when the time came, she would run. She had studied the land carefully, memorizing landmarks and features all along the way, confident that she could cross it faster and better than any of the Romans ever could. She wasn't sure how long she would have to wait, but the fact that it was dark and the soldiers that normally accompanied them were busy setting a last minute camp could provide the opportunity she was looking for.

Mari waited for a sign that they would be released in quiet anticipation until she saw a soldier with keys approaching. She recognized him instantly. He was a deplorable character, who volunteered in the duty just to see the girls in their business, but Mari's heart absolutely jumped in elation when she saw him approaching. He approached with a smirk and unlatched her cage first and waited until Mari gathered her cellmate and inched out into the ground. Stretching her feet after so many hours of confinement hurt even more with the added need to support the other girl, but Mari trudged forward and walked to the next cage with downcast eyes.

["Stay there, barbarian.]

Mari nodded timidly and held her cellmate up as the soldier went ahead and opened the next cage. When the other two girls came out, he bent over and connected them to Mari and her cellmate by the leg chains, making sure he took considerable time doing so. Mari looked away in order to resist the temptation to kick him and waited. When he was done, he straightened out again and grinned at Mari.

["Let's go."]

Knowing her cue, Mari stepped forward slowly. Being the first in the chain, she always had to wait until the others caught up to her before moving again, so the going was slow. She headed towards the nearest tree cover in the distance, knowing that this particular soldier liked privacy as well.

["That's it! Turn around."]

Turning at the command, Mari waited. The soldier came up to her first and raising her arms to him like she was taught to do, watched him carefully. They were supposed to be let loose one at a time, so they could crouch and take care of their necessities, but this particular soldier never let them do it on their own.

["Not today. I'll do it for you."]

Mari tightened her jaw as she heard one of the other three girls start to cry quietly and the soldier moved his hands to open her coat. Looming over her, he stepped in real close and started to feel along her chest. Closing her eyes tight, Mari gathered all her strength and courage and crushed her knee up into his crotch. To her genuine surprise the move worked and the Roman fell to his knees before her. Ignoring the gasps from her fellow prisoners, she moved forward and looped the chain still connecting her two hands around his neck. The movement yanked all three girls to the ground, but Mari didn't relent on her attack. The soldier gurgled and gasped as his air supply was cut. Unfortunately, Mari didn't have the strength to hold on much longer as his fingers dug into the chain and began pulling counter her. In spurts of breath, he cried out futilely.

"Help me! Help!"

Mari flexed frantically, trying desperately to still the man kneeling before her. With a grunt, she looked at the other girls but none of them budged from their wide eyed terror. Eventually, the soldier got his fingers under the chain and flung Mari around to slam her body against a tree and actually managed to take a gulp of air as her hold lessened.

Feeling her dominance slipping, Mari whimpered in frustration, trying hard to think of how to fell the man that stood between her and freedom. Remembering what her uncle always said about using her brain instead of her brawn, Mari brought up a deerskin boot to the man's back and pushed with all her might. To her surprise, the man arched his back sharply before withering down to the ground. Grinning triumphantly, Mari looked over at the chain of girls she was still connected to.

"We're free, com'on!"

Two looked at her mutely while her cellmate stared at the fallen soldier in fascination. It was more emotion than Mari had ever seen on the girl's lifeless face, but she was too conscious of time to really make something of it. Falling to her knees, Mari felt along the soldier's cloak for keys. Finding them, she went through several before finding the right one. With trembling hands, she unlatched her hands and was working on her feet, when she heard rustling. The girl that had been crying, whimpered and Mari held out her hands for them to stay silent. Someone was coming and struggling to see in the dark, Mari fought with the lock and key connecting her feet frantically. Finally hearing it click open just as someone broke through the brush, Mari looked up at the frightened faces of her fellow prisoners and threw the closest one the keys.

"Run!"

The hoarse whisper hung in the air as Mari scampered to her feet and took off. Her legs were sore from inactivity but heading straight into the cluster of trees opposite the camp, she ran as fast as she could until a familiar voice called after her and she skidded to a stop.

"Mari, wait!! Please, stop!!"

Mari didn't turn around, debating whether or not to keep running. The air was cold and her breath left puffs of vapor in front of her. Sensing her indecision, Valeria ran out to meet her, eyes wide and fingers cold.

"Please listen, if you run, you'll be killing us both!"

Mari swung around, her chest heaving and her fists tight. She looked beyond her keeper to see if there were guards, but she saw none.

"I cannot live like this, this is my chance to go back."

Valeria shook her head sadly, not knowing how to say it.

"There's nothing left, they leave nothing behind, Mari."

"No! My sister is alive. She got away and I have to see her again."

Valeria snorted and looked deep into the younger woman's eyes.

"There is a legion two days behind us and another behind them. They will catch you and you don't even know the way. You will starve and freeze to death."

Mari closed her eyes to hold back the tears that were building. Her voice was still low in case someone else showed up, but her whisper was harsh and angry.

"I can do it and I will. I am already starving and freezing and I'd rather do it free than in a cage!"

Mari looked for Valeria's reaction in nervous apprehension. She had so much faith that she could make it and this conversation was only draining it away. Mari was a second away from turning and running again, but the most unexpected thing happened. Her heart almost stopped when a huge tear rolled down Valeria's tattooed cheek and fell on her purple wrap. Mari stared at the huge, round wet mark it left in the beautiful fabric, mesmerized by the fact that her keeper could cry and the fact that she could not move. Deep in her soul, Mari knew the woman hadn't cried in years.

"If you leave, you will not make it and it will mean that I failed. I offered my word to the general so that you could live and Aerius will see to it that I am executed if you escape……although……."

Mari looked back up to Valeria's watery eyes with a growing lump in her throat. She suddenly looked tired and worn and Mari could see all the hardships her keeper had endured in the lines gathered around her eyes in the silvery moonlight.

"I……why?"

Valeria looked down and Mari could see that she herself didn't know why. And then a terrible thought crossed her mind. Perhaps Valeria wouldn't mind if she left. The same ambivalence that her cellmate always had, settled over her features and Mari panicked at the thought. Valeria was scared of dying, but she would welcome it as haughtily as everything else. She couldn't allow that. She couldn't be the cause of that. Not even in exchange for her freedom. When she went back, she would do so as a complete person, not at the expense of others.

Mari reached out to touch Valeria, but paused her hand in mid-air. Valeria stared at it in wonder. It was dirty and rough and Valeria was as clean and sweet smelling as ever. She could not dare touch her. She would tell her instead. Mari parted her lips to offer the comfort the other woman needed, but in the back, there were sounds of people approaching. Valeria could recognize the sound of metal armor anywhere and closed the distance to grab Mari's hand and whispered into her face.

"Go! You are right in wanting this. Take the mountain passes and go!"

Mari shook her head in desperation. Her eyes darted back between Valeria's face and the four soldier's breaking through the clearing. They were checking on the soldier who was passed out and screaming at the girls huddled on the ground. In a second, they would see her and Mari was caught between listening to her instincts and running and listening to her heart and staying. Valeria saw this indecision and pushed at her.

"Go!"

Mari opened her mouth to protest and was close to running when the soldiers spotted them and ran in their direction.

["Stop right there, slave!"]

Valeria closed her eyes as they brushed pass her and Mari knew she couldn't leave her to the wolves. She slowly raised her hands just as the men reached her. One drove their fist straight into her stomach and another pulled her back up by the hair. Valeria ran forward and tried to stop them, claiming that Mari was her property and they they could not damage her, but they continued as Aerius showed up on the scene and told them coolly that Mari was to be punished but not scarred for trying to escape.

Watching in wide eyed terror as the men stared beating on Mari without any regards to her orders, Valeria knew she had to appeal to a higher order. If she let them, they would beat her to death and she wouldn't allow that to happen now. Twirling around to face Aerius, she summoned all her strength and slapped him hard across the face. The lieutenant and his men stood frozen in shock at her move. To make her point even further, Valeria called him a bastard and went to hit him again, but he caught her hand and drove his fist into her face instead. Valeria fell backwards into the mud with a busted lip and stunned by their commander's actions, the soldiers stared at him dumbly.

Knowing he had overstepped his bounds severely, Aerius spit out that they both be taken to camp immediately and stomped away. The men dragged both unconscious women back and sensing they were part of something that could cost them greatly, called the camp surgeon to see to them. By the time Mari and her fellow prisoners were back in their cages, the old general himself had come to see Valeria. Seeing her bloodied face, he ordered that Aerius see him in private.

No one witnessed what was said between them, but Aerius never came near Valeria again. Wanting to secure her footing and insure that Aerius would not seek vengeance, Valeria moved into the general's tent that very same night. The next day she was given a horse, a carriage, a personal servant and everyone understood that she was off limits to everyone but him. From that vantage point, she made sure she wasn't seen near Mari, but negotiated for her to be taken care of. Having suffered a broken hand, a swollen eye, bruises throughout her body and swollen lips, Mari took a full week to heal, but by that time, Valeria had a plan.

They were only days away from where the river emptied into the Black Sea. In the delta's port, she would meet with an old merchant friend to negotiate some trading. He was not a slave trader by nature, but he had made a peculiar request a few seasons ago. He routinely met with Bedouin merchants and camel breeders that traversed the deserts to connect with the south Arabian coast. There lived a wealthy king that had unique tastes. This sultan wanted a green eyed northerner for his harem and Valeria knew exactly who to send.

Watching Mari in her cage sadly from her place by the general's side, she wondered if what she was doing was right. She had come to care greatly for Mari and hated the thought of her ending up doing what she did, but of all the possible places to end up, Arabia was a good choice. It was far from Roman authority, which meant stability and she would live lavishly with a group of other women who would look after her. Harems were a show of wealth, and even though she would be expected to gratify the sultan when he called for her, it would not be a constant chore. The numbers in a harem ensured that she would not be picked on and she would eat the finest foods and be draped in the most ornate cloths that she could hope for her.

Flashes of what Mari had said the night she tried to escape crossed through Valeria's mind. Mari still had foolish hopes of a reunion with her sister, but she had stayed for her. Valeria never expected that much devotion from anyone and in making that sacrifice, Mari secured her place in that harem. It was the best place to escape the turbulence of the Empire and even though it would break her heart to see her go, she would do it nevertheless. She would surrender her only friend to the vastness of the desert lands in hopes that she would have a better life.

Rub al-Khali, Southern desert of the Arabian peninsula, Moving southwest towards coastal Ma'in, the Imperial city-state

Lo'gan looked up into the dark midnight sky and lost in the impossibility of so many stars, failed to notice how the sand under his feet had begun to change. It was subtle at first, barely rippling here and there, but the shifting grew and lengthened until the entire area was alive in movement. Lo'gan didn't notice, however. He was still lost in his thoughts, alone in his contemplation, his normally alert senses dulled by the engrossing luminance found in the dark skies.

It wasn't until the sands begin to twirl around his feet and to pull at him that he looked down. Scanning his dark eyes over the coiling mass of sand that stretched out endlessly in every direction, he realized the desert was angry. He could see it in the waves and undulations as they stretched and pulled at each other and in the low murmur that the movement created. It looked a lot like the sea that bordered Ma'in in how fluid and capricious it was behaving. Confused by its motives, Lo'gan took a step forward to leave but in a lightening quick move, the sand reached out and pulled his foot back. Lo'gan's eyes widened and he attempted to move again, but the twirling, shifting sands were alive and did not want to let go. They reached for him and before he knew it, he was buried up to his knees in the pale expanse.

Terror setting in, Lo'gan began to struggle. With his thick, callused hands he dug into the mass, desperately trying to free himself, but it was a losing task. Every time he scooped out a handful, more heavy sand rushed in to fill the space once again. Despite the cool night air, sweat broke out in a light sheen all over his body as he struggled to move and to claw his way out. Before long, he was buried up to his waist and as the sand around him increased in its movements, the wind also began to pick up.

In practically no time, it howled and whipped in a full fledged storm. The fine particles stung Lo'gan's eyes mercilessly and scraped his bare skin. Trying urgently to fight the sand that engulfed him with eyes shut tight as his hair whipped around him, Lo'gan felt his arms begin to tire. The desert was swallowing him whole, but it was doing it slowly, exhausting him and making him lose hope in the process. His lower half was being crushed by the weight and already up to his chest, it was getting harder to breath.

Eventually, the mass grabbed at his arms too. Lo'gan's muscles bulged and strained to fight the progress, but there was really very little one man can do against the will of something so powerful. The sand kept advancing on his body and when he felt it moving and twirling around his neck and wanting to enter his mouth, Lo'gan could take it no longer. He screamed into the dark with all his might. A guttural scream that released everything in him, Lo'gan was barely conscious enough to feel everything around him still and fade into black. A very still moment followed. And then something different happened.

In over thirty years of experience, Lo'gan knew the dream to be a test. He would be observing the changes in the night sky when the angry desert would ambush him. It would suck him into its depths slowly, crushing the life out of him in an agonizingly slow torture. Lo'gan would not succumb easily. His warrior instinct would force him to dig, to fight, to try, to struggle, but Lo'gan's fight was useless. Not once in those thirty years did he ever win. He knew from the harsh, sometimes cruel existence in the desert that nature was ruthless and all powerful. One man could never dominate it and the sands would always inundate him no matter what he did.

This was where the real test would lie. At times, Lo'gan would panic the instant it touched his face. Sometimes he would hold out until it covered his nostrils, but one thing was always certain, it would always win. In the last moments, when fear overwhelmed him and he could take it no longer, Lo'gan would scream and then it would be over. He would awaken bathed in sweat and breathing hard in his tent, heart pounding in his chest in utter and complete fear. It would be a waste of time to close his eyes again after that. He would rise and go outside, to sit in the dunes that had just betrayed him in his deepest subconscious.

He would spend the rest of the night thinking and brooding, sometimes petting Nayif or just letting sand slip through his grasp while he watched the moon cross the sky. Sometimes, he would lie down again and try to rest, but never sleep. Even as a child, when Joza would sing to him to still his heart and lull him back into slumber, Lo'gan would refuse. He could not risk himself in that way again. He loved the desert and all its mystery and did not fear it, but the toll the dreams took on his body were great. And even then, he would not resent them. They were a reminder of some sort and Lo'gan could not imagine his life without them. It was as steady and dependable as the rising and falling of the sun, only for the first time ever, the dream had not ended in quite the same way.

After the surrendering in the form of a scream, Lo'gan waited in confusion. Instead of fading into reality, he had stood in the blackness for much longer than ever before. He was sweating and his heart was pounding as he turned and turned where he stood. He could make out nothing in the pitch dark, but his hearing did pick something up. Instinctively feeling at his side for his L shaped Khanjar, Lo'gan held his breath and waited in the darkness. The Lo'gan lying in the conscious world twitched and did the same thing, making his traveling companion raise an eyebrow. Eyes wide to try and see in the dark, Lo'gan heard a shuffle again and decided he would not take chances, and went to withdraw his blade. Only he couldn't. There was a hand holding his in place and before he could take a fighting stance to rid himself of it, he felt warm lips on his.

His body tensed for a fight, but Lo'gan was caught completely off guard with the kiss. He couldn't move, he couldn't breath, he couldn't think. All that there was were the soft lips pressing against his and knowing it was not enough, Lo'gan broke the freeze over his body and stepped forward to grab the woman who dared enter his dreams. The movement did not break the kiss, so he plunged into her with complete abandon.

Holding her to his body with a hand on the small of her back and another at her neck, Lo'gan surrendered again into the strangely euphoric feeling sweeping over him. His body burned for her, his hands ached for her. The sweetness of her mouth, the feel of her pressed against him, it was all too irresistible and too overwhelming. This phantom woman was all he ever needed. He knew this with certainty because never in his life did anyone taste as good. She was a perfect fit against him and his body felt it. His tongue swept hers urgent and soothing at the same time. Reveling in her taste and fighting the need for air, Lo'gan held her tight for fear of waking up and losing all that he had in his grasp. But eventually, he had to. She was swooning in his arms and holding her up, Lo'gan pulled back to find that the darkness had ebbed away. It was still blurry and dim, but he could see her.

Lo'gan opened his eyes wide to the vision before him. She was nothing of what he was expecting. She was as pale as a jasmine flower and just as soft. Her hair was not black, but the color of burnt honey, tinged with flashes of mahogany and red. Her flushed color, red lips and warm panting breath on him excited him and Lo'gan wanted to ravish them again. He leaned forward, fixated on her lips when he saw something that stopped him cold. Something he had never seen before.

Glimmering in the faint light, he caught the deep green of her eyes. Everyone he had ever known had black eyes, dark as kohl. But hers were the color of emeralds. His father had one incrusted in the handle of his Khanjar and Lo'gan mused it was the most precious thing ever, only now he knew it wasn't true. He had found something more precious, more valuable and in her beautiful eyes he saw the depth of her soul. He had been too responsive to have noticed it at first, but what he saw now was awe inspiring. He could see pain and beauty and a strength he knew was as raw and passionate as the kiss they just shared. He saw the truth in her, the real her, and wondering suddenly if she was a tangible thing to be touched and had, Lo'gan reached out and felt along the girl's face. The dark hand contrasted greatly with her pale skin and in an unexpected movement, Lo'gan sucked in his breath when she broke the gaze she had fixed on him to look over at it. Turning her beautiful eyes back to his with a smile, Lo'gan slowly smiled too at the glimmer in the deep green pools. Lo'gan moved his thumb along her cheek. Soft as jasmine and she was his. He knew that with certainty as her smile grew a little wider, her color a little deeper, her breathing a little faster. It was all the acquiescence he needed. Swooping down to meet her lips again before she vaporized back into his dreams, Lo'gan shuddered when he felt his body jolt. In an instant he was back to the realm of the living and snapping his eyes open, saw only the woven colors of his canopy. Bolting upright in near panic, Lo'gan looked around frantically, only to find the familiar dunes, his resting animals and Harabi's smirking face.

"That was one hell of a dream you had there, oh big hairy Jabir."

Logan grumbled at the harsh slap of reality and kicked his linen cover off.

"Shut up."

She was gone and like most dreams, Lo'gan had practically forgotten the entire thing already. Mentally cursing his companion for interrupting what was sure to be an interesting dream, Lo'gan stood up abruptly and stomped off to get water. True to form, he was sweaty and agitated, but for the first time ever, it wasn't because of the desert swallowing him up, it was the feel of a strange girl in his arms that had him so. Harabi bit into his piece of smoked meat and smiled knowingly.

"No really. I was about to wake you up, you seemed……troubled."

Chortling at the thought, Harabi failed to see the water skin that sailed towards his head from behind. It hit him with a thud and he doubled over in laughter.

"Oww."

Lo'gan stomped over to his unrolled mat and grabbing his Khanjar that lay just alongside it, inserted it onto his sash shakily.

"Next time, it'll be my blade."

To Lo'gan's slight disappointment, Harabi did not even bother looking scared and just laughed a little harder.

"Well, maybe if you go back to sleep you can keep going where you stopped."

Lo'gan sighed in frustration at his young companion and stomped away towards the nearby dunes without a word. The moon was almost full again and allowed for a great panoramic view of the area they had to cross the next day. They had been traveling for over two weeks and even though they had scheduled for three, they were making excellent time as the load for food and water they were carrying got lighter and Lo'gan's navigation led them straight towards their destination.

Settling down on a sandy incline, Lo'gan rested his arms over his up drawn knees and considered the sparkling sand. His heartbeat had stilled down to normal and leaning back to rest against the dune, Lo'gan wondered why the dream that he had had for so many years had changed. He had erotic dreams of course, but the two never combined in any way. And yet, this dream hadn't been his typical erotic dream either. Wrinkling his brow to try and remember the details, Lo'gan admitted that no. It had been anything but typical. She was…… different. Her skin, her hair, her eyes. Her eyes.

Bolting upright, Lo'gan scanned his memory for what it had been on the brink of storing away permanently. This girl had green eyes, and not just any green, but an intense, almost translucent color that held so much. He could barely recall the details, and it had been so brief, but he remembered getting lost in them. Feeling like all he had ever wanted was right there, in there. The idea was as comforting as it was disconcerting. Shaking his head to clear it of thoughts he had never ventured into before, Lo'gan did not feel Harabi coming up behind him. He fell in next to him and to Lo'gan's annoyance, grinned at him ruefully.

"Are you still trying to ignore me?"

Lo'gan's lips tightened as he debated whether or not to get rid of his constant headache once and for all.

"I need to be alone."

Harabi raised his eyebrows in mock hurt and took another bite of his late night snack. He didn't look it, but Lo'gan had learned that Harabi could eat twice his weight in food every few hours. He had finished his own stores two days ago, and had been raiding Lo'gan's.

"You're always alone. That's your problem."

Logan wrinkled his nose in aversion, not sure how the Dawasir always managed to wrangle him into an argument.

"I do not have a problem."

"Umm, yes, you do. I realize it's part of the `I am so strong and silent and don't bother wearing a thobe shirt' image, but it really doesn't fit you."

Lo'gan raised an eyebrow high and nodded thoughtfully.

"So you aren't afraid of me?"

Harabi's smile faltered at the feral look in Lo'gan's eyes and coughed uncomfortably.

"Uhh, yes, yes, very much. But I've seen that you're not that tough and you should probably not try so hard to look it."

Lo'gan rolled his eyes in defeat and looked back over the landscape. There was a trail cut in the smooth sand a short distance from them that hadn't been there before. There was a serpent nearby.

"Well, I don't care what you think and I like my time alone. Everyone that knows me, knows I need my time alone. They are not foolish enough to bother me when I am alone and if you don't leave, I will make sure you have no reason to step foot into a whorehouse at Ma'in."

Harabi scrutinized the threat and decided that maybe he was serious this time. But then remembering that Lo'gan had only threatened his life eight times that day so far and he was safe for at least another few more, Harabi snorted and patted Lo'gan's shoulder jovially.

"That's because they don't know you as well as me, old friend. And do not jest in that way. I live for them and maybe you should go with me. It might alleviate……your problem."

Harabi knew from the set of Lo'gan's jaw that he had overstepped his limits. Dropping the rest of his snack and putting up his hands to stop him when he heard the growl that emanated from his throat, Harabi fell back laughing hysterically, even as Lo'gan loomed over him with his unsheathed Khanjar.

"Okay, okay, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! You don't have a problem, really. I won't tell anyone, friend. Friends, we're friends, I was joking!"

Lo'gan glared coldly at the Dawasir and spit out through his teeth.

"I don't have a problem."

Harabi started backing up and letting only a few giggles escape him, tried to placate the older man.

"Fine, fine, no problems. I'll leave, you can be all alone, completely alone. I'm leaving"

Still moving carefully, Harabi brushed himself off and got up to leave. Looking after him with murder in his eyes, Lo'gan stared silently as he watched his companion walk backwards back to the camp. Content that he was at least silent, Lo'gan dropped back to his contemplation. Alone again his thoughts immediately went back to the green eyed girl in his dreams and a thought occurred to him. He just couldn't bring himself to say it. Unfortunately, the question itched and bothered and sighing deeply, and without looking back, he asked out loud.

"Have you ever seen a girl with green eyes??"

Harabi perked up from where he was wrapped in linens and stared at the dark outline just a short way off. In the entire time that they had traveled together, never once did Lo'gan ask him for help or even ventured a question. He was pretty much in charge of keeping a conversation going and if he hadn't just closed his eyes for a second, he would have thought he was dreaming.

"A what?"

Lo'gan gritted his teeth together and swallowed before asking again. He knew Harabi lived for gambling and women and if anyone would know, he would, but he was feeling foolish to have asked. He could practically see him grinning.

"Have you……umm……ever seen a girl……"

Harabi held back his laughter with considerable effort.

"Yes, plenty, and they don't bite. You shouldn't be afraid, Lo'gan al Jabir. I will introduce you to several."

Lo'gan grumbled from where he was sitting and clamped a hand over his brow. He knew it would be a mistake asking. Harabi could sense Lo'gan's humiliation from where he lay and chuckled.

"No, really, a girl what, tell me."

Lo'gan shook his head as the faint headache that always followed conversations with Harabi started forming at the base of his skull.

"Die slowly, Dawasir, I cannot talk to you."

Harabi looked back at the shape in the fluttering black robes mischievously and pushed a little more. He didn't think it would be possible, but Lo'gan was actually afraid of telling him something. He couldn't very well go on another minute without knowing about what.

"Com'on, we're practically brothers now, you must ask. Go on, I'm listening."

Lo'gan grimaced at the ridiculousness of that statement.

"No brother of mine would have chosen a pregnant camel as his pack animal."

Harabi rolled his eyes.

"How many times must you bring that up? It was an accident. There was a switch and I didn't see."

"Or so you claim. You better pray that you make it make back to your clan before it births."

Harabi's eyes widened. That possibility was not one that he had entertained before.

"You said we'd have plenty of time! You said three months!"

Lo'gan smirked.

"Three, two, maybe less. And besides, Dawasir, we are not brothers and you know it."

Harabi froze for a minute, wondering. He could bear the thought of any kind of birthing……at all.

"Okay, very funny. But com'on, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I shut up and go to sleep."

Lo'gan considered that for a moment in absolute silence. Harabi could not even breathe.

"Have you ever met a girl, with green eyes?"

Harabi's smile dropped in disappointment.

"That's it??? That's what you wanted to know??"

Lo'gan ruffled his hair in desperation and spit out harshly.

"Yes, that's the question! What did you think it was?"

Harabi shrugged in the dark and repeated the question to himself.

"I don't know, something more…interesting."

"Did you or didn't you???"

Harabi raised his eyebrows in mock hurt.

"Okay! Wait! Umm, no I haven't but I heard once that some northerners do."

Interest peaked, Lo'gan finally turned around to look at Harabi.

"Do what?"

"You know, have green eyes, why you ask?"

"Nothing. Go to sleep."

Turning back around with a flicker of hope and a faint smile, Lo'gan flicked a strand of long hair back behind his ear.

"Gods! You have to tell me now……is that, is that what you were dreaming about?"

Silence. Harabi got up to his knees and started laughing again.

"It is isn't?? Ha! Wait till I tell my brothers. Who knew Lo'gan al Jabir would have such unique tastes in……"

Harabi stopped in mid sentence as he felt something cut the air next to him. Turning around quickly to see Lo'gan's Khanjar blade wavering from where it penetrated his headrest, he swallowed tightly before turning back. It was clear Lo'gan didn't feel like chatting any more.

"Ahh, I'm going to sleep now. Pleasant dreams."

Chuckling to himself Lo'gan went back to his relaxing, while Harabi quickly tried to fall asleep. The Dawasir had no respect, but perhaps he did have enough sense to be silent when he had to. Pleased with himself, Lo'gan laced his hands behind his head and leaned back into the cool sand. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but he liked the idea that his green eyed beauty could exist. Even if it was in a dream, she existed and that was enough. Closing his eyes to try and recollect everything about her, Lo'gan smiled faintly. Harabi would definitely not be singing tonight. He would definitely have to start throwing more swords at him.

The Danube River Delta on the western banks of the Black Sea, moving south towards the Euphrates River, the Middle East

Valeria fanned herself to abate the growing humidity and ordered two more lengths of fine linen from the merchant. The trade center was unbearably full since several ships and caravans were in town simultaneously. Watching the merchant cut the cloth from the bolt, fold it and hand it to her servant, Valeria felt along her waist for the leather purse attached to it. Opening it quickly, she produced two smaller coins and pressed them into the merchant's hand. He bowed and thanked her graciously, but Valeria could tell from his expression that he was not very pleased. She could haggle prices with the best of them and the traders knew it.

Giving a silent call for her servant to follow, Valeria secured her purse once again and walked off to the next stand she had to visit in the bustling market. Altogether it had been a productive day as she restocked on many necessities for the coming year, but her heart was heavy and her mind was troubled. She could barely concentrate on the shopping spree, an event she normally looked forward to every year. The fact that she had met with the trader whom she sold Mari to that morning did not help either. It was first on her agenda that day. When the Roman convoy arrived the day before and settled just outside of town, she immediately rented out a house for her girls and began preparations. The first was a long talk.

Of the thirty-seven girls that were brought to her, only twenty-two were to be sold at market, the others having quickly been taken to service other camps. Of that twenty-two, only seventeen survived the cruel journey to the trading post. It was not significantly more or less than previous years, but unlike any other, Valeria knew she could no longer do this task. She was tired, achingly tired deep in her soul and for once in her life, she was ready to leave it all behind. Unfortunately, she was not entirely free to do so. The tattoo that crossed her face was a reminder to anyone that although she was dressed well and carried a heavy purse, she was property of the Empire and that was a mark she could never wash off. So even though she did most of her year's sales for a significant profit that morning, Valeria felt miserable.

Mari had been the hardest. Valeria had wisely avoided her the past few days in order to help people forget that she had tried to escape, but once out of their cages and alone in a house with the girls, she was free to be with them without worry of Aerius or soldiers asking too many questions. She explained to them that their month long trek had finally ended and that they would each depart to separate corners of the world.

Most cried, a few were hysterical, but to Valeria's great surprise, Mari had simply nodded and stood silent and tearless. Valeria ended up crying for her and in a move that silenced all the other girls, Valeria wrapped her arms around Mari and begged for forgiveness between frantic sobs. It was the most vulnerability Valeria had ever shown in her entire life and Mari understood this. She did what she couldn't do that night she tried to escape - she comforted her with soft words and even sang to her old Germanic songs she used to sing to Danea. All other sixteen girls watched them with curiosity and sadness, until Valeria was composed enough to resume her preparations. She left them in the good hands with the woman who owned the boarding house to be bathed, while she went to market to secure them suitable clothing and early sales.

The first merchant she went to see was Sheik Battam, who was to take Mari to Arabia. He was an old friend who had negotiated with her for years and Valeria felt confident that Mari would be in good hands with him. He paid a fair price, but unlike other times, Valeria did not try to alter it. The thought that she was putting a price on someone she cared about was too great. In the end, she separated her share of the profits and returned it back to him. She gave it to Battam with a strange quiver in her voice that the Sheik had never heard before or even thought possible. She told him it was to secure Mari's safety and ensure that she would be treated well. The old merchant understood fully. Valeria left before he could refuse the payment and before she broke down and cried again. Feeling the weight of the purse in his hand, Battam couldn't help but be curious about his new acquisition, a girl who had apparently breached the infallible Valeria. The transaction was set for the following day and he was content, being eager to move his convey out of the crowded delta and into the quiet of the deserts soon. He had stayed to meet with Valeria, and now that his task was accomplished, he had no more business left to conduct.

Now almost done with her shopping as the day came to a close, Valeria stopped to acquire some fruit for her girls to add to their dinner. They were incredibly thin; and since they survived so much already, deserved to be indulged now that they had access to fresh products. Taking a bushel of figs herself to ease the burden on her servant, Valeria walked slowly past the haggling buyers to her rented house. Halfway there, she heard her name being called and looking up, felt her heart sink when she saw Aerius approaching her through the crowd.

Looking around to see plenty of Roman breastplates and scarlet robes, but none that she could trust, Valeria swallowed tightly and waited for him to reach her. She already knew what he was after and reached for it under her drape with her free hand. Without saying a word, she waited until he was right in front of her before taking his share of the money from the sale of the seventeen girls and throwing it to his feet. The silver and gold coins bounced off his sandals and the stone paved market square with bright twinkling sounds. The lively market paused in deep silence and she smiled haughtily into his face before sidestepping him and quickly walking off. She did get to see his fists tighten at his side, but knowing he would not be stupid enough to touch her again in a market full of witnesses, Valeria left Aerius to angrily bend over and pick up his share of the money before quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Looking back occasionally to make sure she wasn't being followed, Valeria reached her destination wearily. Asking her servant to unpack her things and set them up for the girls, she fell into a chair woven from dried reeds and palms and closed her eyes. Unable to go upstairs and face her deplorable task again, she brooded over her life and the feel of the heavy purse resting on her lap in silence. Lost in thought, she failed to hear the sounds of Mari's footsteps until she was right alongside her.

"You're back. I was worried."

Valeria jumped and swung around. It was Mari, but without the skins and matted hair she had grown used to seeing her in. Her skin looked even paler now that it was scrubbed clean and her hair hung heavy all around her. She was beautiful and so painfully young.

"W-why?"

Mari shrugged, making the chain connecting her hands twinkle.

"I was taking my bath and I heard Aerius. He came here and was asking for you."

Valeria sighed and looked back out over the open window to the busy port.

"He wanted his money…umm…you look better."

Mari looked down and colored slightly. Her dress was not as fine as Valeria's, but she never dreamed of being in anything so soft. It was even clever how it was designed, one long column, held up by roping bound tight to her body. It was cool and ideal for the weather, which strangely enough, was more like spring than winter. She had asked the landlady that morning how that was possible and she simply said that different places had different seasons and she would get used to it. Mari thought about that all morning since it confirmed her previous sentiment, that she had seen nothing of the world yet.

"It is too much."

Valeria smiled at the girlish need to blush at every compliment. Strong as she was, that's what Mari really was. Just a girl. She looked down at her own hands for a second and wondered if she had ever been as innocent as to blush. That had been so long ago. Too long. Mari saw her expression sadden and settled down next to her. She had a question and it was their last evening together. If she didn't ask now, she would lose the chance forever.

"Valeria, can I ask you something?"

The older woman smiled slightly at Mari's pronunciation of her name. She had caught a few words here and there, but Latin was still difficult for her. She had never heard her name pronounced quite that way before and maybe never would again.

"Did you ever have children?"

Without looking up, Valeria nodded. Mari could see the memories awaken in her eyes.

"A long time ago……a little girl……she, umm,…… she was taken from me and sold. I never even got a chance to name her."

Mari waited, knowing Valeria was gathering her thoughts to finish. She watched intensely as the tears bordered her lashes and slowly went over the edge.

"I should have fought harder to keep her, I tried, I really did, but it was a hard birth and……and I was so young. I wasn't able to have children after that and was sent north with this seal."

Mari glanced at the purple tattoo on Valeria's face. It occurred to her that she had never seen her touch it before, and even now, her finger hovered over it, not really making contact.

"It was to show that I was barren and it made me a good commodity to have in the camps. Many of the girls with me had many children or died in childbirth, but I stayed the same……I guess you can say it allowed me to rise in the ranks and become a keeper quickly. That was all a very long time ago and I never heard about my daughter again."

Mari nodded as she absorbed this new information. Somehow she had known all along. Valeria just seemed like a mother. Even though she never had one, Mari knew what a mother should be and ironically enough, Valeria fit that mold perfectly.

"My mother died birthing my sister, Danea. I was a year old and never knew her either."

Valeria blinked at Mari, whose hair was still damp from her bath. The long, dark brown tendrils left wet marks were they touched her new linen dress. She never would have imagined such a sweet girl growing up without a mother. It didn't seem possible. No wonder she was so close to her sister. She must have meant the world to her.

"I'm sorry."

Mari fiddled with her chains and shrugged almost imperceptibly. Her voice fell down to a whisper.

"It's okay……I think she would have been like you. I would have liked that."

Valeria stared at her for a long while, unable to talk or make sense of what she was feeling. She had not cried so much in her life and it was just all too much. Luckily, Mari understood and hearing the landlady call for dinner, slowly moved to take her hand. Valeria stared at them, both in chains whether you could see them or not. Getting up slowly, she wiped at her face and followed her out. She turned the idea in her head. Mari thought she would have made a good mother and Valeria's heart soared at that. No one had ever assumed as much and wondering if her child was still alive, prayed to the gods that she was happy and free somehow.

That night, they all ate together at a table. Valeria tried to make them as happy about their leaving as she could, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings. The first of the girls left right afterwards, among them Mari's former cellmate. She was still a strangely silent girl, but she was faring better and as the servants of her new master took her away, she looked back at Mari. She couldn't say anything of course, but still managed to convey a silent thank you. Their numbers down to eleven, the girls went to sleep over three beds that night, wondering what their new homes would be like. Valeria spent the evening talking to Mari and then later, the night crying in the General's arms. The next morning she woke up heartbroken but with a promise.

It turned out that the General was also weary of his life. Campaign after campaign, The Empire had consumed most of his years in one exhaustive battle after the next. Finding that Valeria felt the same way, he made a promise to her. After the next two scheduled stops in their trade route, he would ask to be retired to his homeland. His children would welcome him and he was sure they would come to accept Valeria in time. Valeria agreed. Even though the brand on her face labeled her as property, time had worn down the pain it carried. She could live with the stigma if it meant not having a life that depended on the sale of others. She wasn't as sure as the General, but in time maybe his grandchildren might grow to love her. Mari had shown her that it was possible and even worth it to care for others. Valeria would chance on a life with the General, not because they were madly in love with each other, because they were not. They would try because they had to. The cold indifference of war had crept into their bones a long time ago and if they stayed any longer, it would kill them for sure.

Waking early, Mari dressed in her new clothes and waited by the open window for Valeria to arrive. She was worried for her friend, but looking to the beautiful sunrise, felt that she would be okay. She would find her way and maybe someday they would meet again. As for herself, she didn't hold as much confidence but she tried. Remembering her uncle's words, Mari decided that trusting in destiny would just have to do. Valeria had explained where she was headed before leaving the night before and it sounded like a fair place.

For hours they spoke about what she had seen of the world and what Mari was to expect. It all seemed terribly strange to Mari and in a way she was curious to see what Valeria called the desert. It was supposed to be a harsh land, but she was ready for anything. Life in Battavia had also been harsh, but it was so much more beautiful than the muddy, filthy camps that the Romans called civilization. Even this land was better. It was odd with its humidity, tall lanky trees, hard stone houses with separate floors and its dark, draped people, but it was beautiful. Even if it meant moving further away from Danea, Mari would go into desert, whatever that meant, and still be on the look out for opportunity. Valeria emphasized that she would have the finest of everything, but that enthusiasm was hollow to Mari, since she already saw that finery ultimately meant nothing when you were still chained. And chained she was. Looking down at the metal that connected the cuffs surrounding her wrists, she sighed.

From what she understood, her carriers moved fast and even though she was only one fourth to her destination in over a month of travel, she would cover the distance remaining in a lightening quick pace. That appealed to Mari since nothing was more inefficient than three hundred soldiers laden with armor trying to march in straight lines through forests. What she had seen of what Valeria called `camel traders' intrigued her. They were quiet people and intense in their actions, with none of the haughtiness that the Romans carried. She was curious and looked forward to knowing them.

Looking up again to see the magnificent orange and pink sun bathe the still sleeping market, Mari figured at least some things never changed. Memories of watching the sunrise through the slats of their log home filled Mari with nostalgia. Mari regretted not having ever woken Danea up to see one with her. Things that great were eternal and set in their rhythms. The sky would not change and Mari took comfort in the idea that Danea and Valeria would look up and see the same stars she was seeing no matter how far the distance between them was. It was a small comfort to her anxious mind.

Looking down in time to catch Valeria, her servant and a draped man walking across the plaza, Mari straightened out and prepared herself. A few minutes later she was taken to Valeria and reminding herself that she was not supposed to cry, walked over to meet her new carriers. Sheik Kalu al Battam was his name and he would take her to a city by the sea, she had been told.

The first thing that struck Mari was his big white beard. It wasn't as impressive as her father's, but it made him look like an older, darker version of him and that too was comforting. She was nervous but quickly forget how much as she observed the stranger's unique headdress and hanging robes quietly from Valeria's side. It was only when he turned to look at her that Mari realized she was staring. Mari blushed and quickly looked down and only then noticed that Valeria's hand was in hers. She swallowed at the warmth in it, tightened her fingers around it and tried to keep it hidden in the folds of her dress. Trying to not think too much about the eminent farewell, Mari tried listen to what was being said. Unfortunately, it hadn't occurred to her until that moment that they were talking in yet another language. Just when she was beginning to somewhat understand Latin, she would have to learn something completely different. They spoke for a short while before Valeria turned to her.

Mari's eyes watered quickly and respecting that they needed privacy, Battam went to wait outside. With that gesture alone, Mari decided that she liked him, but her thoughts were on the tall, elegant woman holding her hand.

"I am so sorry."

Mari nodded softly, the action making tears fall down her cheeks.

"Please don't be. You've been wonderful."

Valeria sniffed and moved forward to embrace her. Mari held her back, wondering just how it was that her keeper had worked her way so deep in her heart.

"Mari, after this Claudius will retire with me and I won't ever need to do this again."

Mari stepped back and considered Valeria carefully.

"You mean he will marry you?"

Valeria snorted in surprise and wiped at her face.

"No Mari, he can never do that, but we need each other and want to start a new life. A life away from all this."

Mari smiled a little more.

"I'm am glad for you. You deserve better."

"So do you."

"Please, don't worry about me. I will be fine and I have you to thank for that. I am trusting destiny and you should too."

Valeria sniffed and shook her head.

"You're right. It led me to you and you've taught me how to feel again. I wish you the best of luck and you can have this to remember me."

Mari looked down at the bracelet that Valeria pressed into her hand. It was a thick gold band carved with extraordinary detail. It was covered in animals and gods that Mari understood to be constellations of the stars.

"It is beautiful, but this is too much for me to take, Valeria."

"Take it. It is a map of the sky and when you look up you will know that I see them too."

Mari snapped her gaze to Valeria, amazed that she had thought of the same thing as her. Taking it slowly, Valeria lifted Mari's sleeve and pressed it around her upper arm. She understood immediately that it was to keep the metal cuffs from scuffing it. Mari ran a finger along the intricate engravings and slowly looked up again.

"I had a local artisan inscribe where I'll be staying on the inside."

Mari looked and indeed, there were Latin symbols on the inside.

"I can maybe see you again."

Her voice broke and Mari sniffled.

"I will see you again, you'll see."

Valeria nodded sadly, almost sure that Mari would. She was strong and Valeria had little doubt that she could.

"I will miss you and remember you always, Valeria."

Valeria smiled at the pronunciation of her name and hugged Mari tightly again.

"And so will I, the gods protect you on your journey."

Saying the last part with a sob, Valeria pressed a kiss to Mari's head and stepped back. Giving her friend a last tight smile, she bent down to pick her small bundle of things that the landlady had packed for her and walked outside into the bright sun. Battam bowed slightly, took the chain connecting her wrists and started walking off. Mari followed crying softly. When they were a short distance away, she turned around and gave another smile to Valeria, who was still watching them from the doorway. Turning around with an unbearable ache in her chest, but with more hope than she had ever had before, Valeria walked inside and closed the door behind her.

Mari, on her part, began the second leg of her journey that very same day. After briefly introducing her to his associates who were waiting at the market, Battam lead her across the town on foot. Arriving late at a dock, they boarded a boat, something Mari had never seen before. It was wide and very long and propelled by over thirty men, rowing beneath the deck. She was fascinated by how swiftly it cut through the water, but quickly understood that it was only through sweat and lashings from the men below deck that it moved.

Sitting huddled to herself in one corner, Mari looked up at the night sky once the dock was no longer visible. The water was beautiful, but not like the sky. Touching the gold band around her arm, Mari fell asleep among the cargo with tears in her eyes and with the steady rhythm of grunts from the men beneath her. She didn't think it was possible, but she missed the Romans. Most of all she missed Valeria. Falling asleep with her head against a sack of grain, Mari awoke the next day to a gentle prod. Battam was talking to her and quickly on her feet, Mari was shocked to discover that they had stopped moving and were at another port.

She followed him and his two helpers off the boat and ignoring the looks she got from everyone seeing her in Roman garb and chained, followed timidly as they moved through the less crowded town to a place to that served food. Still feeling miserable, Mari could not bring herself to eat, figuring that she was finally at the city by the sea that Valeria told her about. This worried her keepers and soon afterwards they called a woman out to feed her. Having grown used to nothing more than dirty water and gruel with the Romans, Mari was stunned to see that the enormous woman came to her armed with fruits and milk and flat salty breads. Mari still had trouble with all the new tastes, but she could not refuse the draped woman, who laughed as she felt along her collarbones and with complete disregard, continued to stuff Mari's mouth with food.

Completely stuffed an hour later, Mari followed Battam as they bought a few more sacks of wares and products. They seemed very odd to her, because even though she was a slave, they let her walk freely among the crowds. Not that Mari was confident enough to be even a foot away from them in the strange market, but she appreciated the fact that they did not seem to be too engrossed with keeping her on a short leash. Several times, she thought of sneaking off, but she was too scared and could not begin to imagine how to get back. That and the fact that her keepers seemed too nice to give them trouble, kept Mari in place.

By midday, they were walking back to the dock and Mari understood that they were still not at their destination. Falling asleep by the grain sacks just a short way from her new keepers, Mari surrendered to the tiredness that a full meal brought on her. That night it was cloudy and the stars were hidden anyway. Like the previous day, she was woken by a little jab at the side and like the day before, they went to a market and came back with more things. This time, she ate willingly; not wanting to incur the wrath of another forced feeding at the hands of anyone. But when they came back to the boat, she was confused. It seems that she was not at her destination yet and thinking back to the long weeks she traveled with the Romans, Mari figured she was in for another long trip.

True enough, they traveled over water for another three more days. They were skimming the edge of an enormous lake and every day, they stopped at a trading port by the shore. With every stop, there were fewer traders and less people. She was also starting to notice that the air was drier and hotter. Most disconcerting was the fact that she was increasingly one of the few light-skinned people around. Valeria had told her that she was acquired because she was different, but walking through markets where no one looked like her anymore and everyone stared at her for a half minute was awkward. True, they did not point or laugh at her, but Mari did not like drawing attention to herself at all. In their last stop, when she was gaining some familiarity with words, Mari pulled at Battam's sleeve and pointed at a long black robe hanging with two dozen others in a stand that catered to women's clothes.

"Anabbayah."

Battam smiled at her pronunciation and feeling unsure of herself, Mari looked at her sandals. Battam was a generous man, however, and he quickly traded some small copper balls for the garment. Mari had not expected him to buy it for her, just wanted to point out that she would like covering, but took it gratefully. Unfortunately, she could not put it on with her hands secured together. Without a moment's hesitation, Battam saw this and withdrew a key he had tucked away in his robes and unlocked the cuffs. Without taking her eyes off him, Mari rubbed her wrists slightly before slipping her arms into the wide armholes of the anabbayah robe, bringing the hood over her head and knotting the sash around her waist.

With her linen dress underneath, she thought she would be hot, but on the contrary, she was cooler and no longer exposed to the sun. Thankful to be partially covered from curious onlookers, Mari stretched out her hand to be chained again, only Battam had already tossed her chains into his sackcloth. Speaking words she could not understand, he smiled at her and continued trading his way through the stands. Mari stared at him in amazement and only when his white robes disappeared in the crowd, did she run to catch up to him.

It turned out that that was their last stop on the lake. Instead of walking back to the docks, Mari followed her keepers to the outskirts of the settlement. There were many people camped in the fields and clusters of camels everywhere. Mari had seen the beasts at the markets, but the over two hundred resting in the hills was surprising. Realizing that Battam was walking to a particular cluster of about forty people and over seventy camels made Mari balk. Weaving through the parked animals, they where almost there when the people working there recognized them and ran out to great her three companions. She knew they were all family by the simple look of relief and love they all shared.

Watching the joyful reunion and how Battam picked up his kids, planting a big kiss on their heads, reminded her so much of her father's homecomings. It hurt deeply and crossing her arms, Mari turned and stood a little ways off until she heard her name called. Approaching the cluster of people slowly, she hung her head as Battam explained who she was. She was sure many of them would think she was worthless for being nothing more than a prostitute, but if they did she did not care. Keeping her head low, she stared at the ground until she felt Battam walk over to her. He picked up her chin and Mari blanched at the gasps and looks of surprise they all had. Battam motioned to her eyes and Mari blushed profusely. She was different from the others. Very different and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why anyone would want her because of it.

After the shook wore off, some of the smaller kids ran up to touch her. Mari stood immobile as they tugged at the hem of her long robe. Eventually Battam moved away and after the others herded their kids off, Mari could breathe again. A few people threw curious looks in her direction, but she was pretty much left to her own devices as the group broke into a flurry of activity. Mari marveled at how efficiently they moved to pack up. Before her eyes, the entire congregation was in a straight line in less than two hours. It was only as people began to board the camels, that it dawned on her that they were tame enough to ride like horses. Still in awe as everyone scurried onto one, Mari didn't react to her name being called.

Ultimately, a woman came to fetch her and led her to a camel of her own. Mari blanched at the thought and approached the tall, wooly animal with trepidation. The woman was giving her instructions she didn't understand but and helped push her up. After several tries, Mari managed to climb on and feeling terribly off balance, grabbed at the animal's fur to prevent from falling off the lumpy harness. It answered with an earsplitting bellow and terrified, Mari almost fell. It wasn't until she regained her balance again and held onto the reins for dear life that she noticed that everyone was laughing at her.

Turning a complete shade of red at her ungraceful display and pulling her hood even tighter over herself, Mari thanked the gods when Battam gave the instructions to move out. With a sharp switch to her camel's hide, the lady that helped her climb on, sent Mari's camel walking and scrambled to get to her own. Mari watched in amazement as the entire troupe started moving forward and swaying in her harness, prayed that she didn't fall off. It was less bumpy than traveling in a cage, but required a lot more skill.

Eventually, Mari began to loosen her tight hold on the reins as it became obvious that the camel knew how to follow the others without her interference at all. Gradually gaining the ability to sway against the direction the camel was stepping into, Mari relaxed and took in the scenery. To her surprise, it was vastly different from what she had been seeing in the ports and she had to take a few minutes to recognize that she was in a different world altogether, what Valeria had called the desert. The trees were sporadic and very tall reaching. The shrubs lacked leaves, instead having thorns and tight, shiny leaves. The ground was soft and sandy in nature. Everything seemed drier and hotter and by the looks of the small hills in the horizon, they would only get drier as they moved further from the coast.

Feeling the gold cuff on her arm, Mari wondered if Danea and Valeria were watching the sun set. She didn't have an answer, but as she entered what was supposed to be her new home, Mari desperately hoped they were. It helped her feel better and despite what Valeria had said, Mari had a feeling she would need that comfort soon enough. What she had seen of the desert so far was strange, but it's hardy, simple people she had observed for days. They told her all she needed to know and no matter what their features were, they shared one thing in common. They looked like survivors and she was sure that to make it back to Danea and Valeria one day, she would have to be one too.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Glancing behind herself, Mari smiled at Wadha, who was engaged in the liveliest of conversations with the woman she was riding with. Both Wadha and the woman returned the unexpected smile after staring for a few seconds and then started chatting again. Mari did not mind, as she had grown accustomed to the staring and knew they were not trying to be rude. As the eldest daughter of Battam, Wadha had been placed in charge of Mari. She was the one that took her food and watched that she didn't wander away and get bitten by a scorpion or something. But even though she was treated fairly and with respect, Mari had learned quickly that the Battam people were not overly accepting of her. She was a mystery and not knowing quite what to make of her, she knew they were eager to deliver her to her owners and be rid of her once and for all.

In the weeks that she had traveled with the clan through the An Nafud, Ad Dahna and now the Rub al-Khali deserts, she had learned to keep mostly to herself and ask for nothing. She spent her days watching the others and keeping herself visible. The only talking she did was to the camels, who had proven to be very good listeners. Mari told them all sorts of things and even shared with them the few Latin words and sentences that she knew. Though it didn't improve her reputation to the Battam as a sane person, the camels seemed to understand her well enough and Mari eventually forgot her fear of them and grew to like them.

Her greatest headache was feeling useless. Everyone, regardless of age, kept busy. She watched as the woman weaved cloth and rugs and rolled goat milk into cheese and yoghurt, wishing she could laugh and chat with them. The men had regular meetings, and made leather straps and tassel fittings for the camels. Some had horses and practiced fighting and scouted all day. The oldest members and the children of the clan tended the herds and each other. It all seemed terribly interesting and not able to speak or approach anyone, Mari felt isolated and inadequate as she stood by the sidelines.

The only thing that Mari could look forward to was reaching Ma'in, the fabled city by the sea. She was starting to make sense of the language, although much slower than the Latin, since she had no one to practice it with. Mari also knew the clan respected the fact that she belonged to the Sultan. They spoke his name and pointed to her with trepidation and Mari hoped it meant she would be safe from harm that way. Valeria had assured her that and turning back to face the setting sun, Mari hoped it were true. She had an increasingly nervous stomach as they got closer to the coast and she wanted desperately to be accepted in her new place.

Her thinking interrupted by giggling, Mari turned and locked eyes with Wadha again. The Bedouin woman suppressed her giggles and fluttered her hand. Mari felt herself turn red as she put her own hand down. She had been absently fanning herself, something none of the others did. She supposed that moving so much would only make her hotter and that the Battams would know better than anyone how to stay cool, but old habits were hard to break.

When it was late summer in Battavia, she and Danea would take turns fanning each other all day. It brought temporary relief and that was all they knew, but here in the desert it was dangerous to over-exert yourself and not be aware of it. No matter how many times Wadha stopped her; Mari would find herself doing it almost subconsciously. It was a small detail, but desert life was full of them. Being in Roman hands had made Mari used to not drinking much, so that was an easy adjustment. What was hard was staying cool and at first Mari thought she wouldn't be able to make it in the extreme heat. The only redemption was at night when the air grew cool and there was a slight breeze. It was then that the desert was at its most beautiful and Mari felt least like a slave.

At times, she wished she could stay among the dunes, but her destiny was somewhere else. For weeks she was anxious to arrive, but now, only two days away, she was feeling the anxiety of knowing she would be inducted into a harem soon. The resolve that she felt leaving the Danube Delta was wavering and without courage she was lost. Gathering what determination she had, Mari kept the steady sway on her camel and trudged on.

In the distance she could make out other caravans, some with hundreds of camels in their procession and even one with only four animals, two of which were horses. To look at the sandy expanse, it was easy to assume that there was nothing to go by, but in reality, the Bedouin nomads were master navigators. They used the sky to lead them along invisible roads in the sand and it amazed Mari how caravans in the distance were drawing closer in the same direction. The land was slowly beginning to show signs of green life and the sky held clouds that were pulled tight, very high into the air. They were near and in a few days, whether she was ready or not, Mari would be in yet another entirely different world.

---

Mari glanced over at the royal guards. They were an impressive display of muscle and clad in nothing but draped pants and enormous curved sabers, they were also very intimidating. Mari had thought the Romans were imposing, but these men were truly daunting. Turning back to where Battam was negotiating his fee with a dour looking woman, Mari tried to still the beating of her heart. She was sure everyone in the palatial room could hear it and fidgeting slightly with the added weight of her leg irons, tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach. Seeing that her sellers were still negotiated heatedly, Mari chanced another glance at the room they were in.

The palace was something you could see even before entering the city. It was a brilliant white building that sparkled from a distance, as if bits of glass had been engrained into the walls themselves. It sat atop a cliff overlooking the Arabian Sea and even the forty-foot stonewall perimeter that guarded the city could not keep its dome shaped roof tiers and spires from view. The room that Mari was now in was massive in size. The largest structure in Battavia was the meetinghouse, which was big enough to hold most of the village people, but this was much, much bigger. The doomed roofs on the exterior were made of highly reflective brass. On the inside, the brass was engraved with designs Mari had never before imagined. The white walls were covered in ornate rugs and the floors were a highly polished stone with veins that ran inside it.

Needing to feel it, Mari shifted her left foot very slowly, to not make her leg irons clang. Turning her sandaled feet so that she could wiggle her toes out, she touched the white stone and gasped at the coolness of it. It was magnificent and wiggling her other foot, was almost out of her sandal, when the leg irons shifted. She snapped her head up to see the impatience in both Battam and the woman and flushing slightly, Mari looked down again. The old Sheik said something too quickly for her to understand, but Mari recognized that it was a command to stop moving. Regretful that she couldn't touch the magnificent white floors again, Mari stood stock still and listened to the voices of her traders rise and fall in disagreement.

She knew Battam did not mean to be short tempered with her, and that it was his long day that had him so aggravated. She did not understand exactly why that was so, but he was so distraught, that he almost looked close to tears at times. It started when they reached the gates to the city.

The entry was long and tedious, taking most of the morning. Guards poked through many of the wares the Battam clan was going to trade and even ordered a few packs to be opened. Mari assumed they were checking for contraband and kept herself well hidden with the other women while she watched them slash through things with indifference. Battam and the other men seemed very displeased at the treatment. Apparently the clan paid money to enter the city and Battam argued over how much for nearly an hour until the guards seemed about ready to hurt him. It was the quick intervention of the Battam horsemen that prevented violence and the money was quickly paid. Mari watched with apprehension, having assumed that Ma'in would be more pleasant, but it all faded away when they were finally led in. She could not believe what stood before her eyes.

Ma'in was massive, with paved roads leading in many directions and two-story buildings packed tightly along the streets. The streets themselves were a flurry of activity, with carts lining them and people busily selling everything from salted fish, pottery and oil lamps to woven baskets, jewelry and goats. It seemed everything was in chaos, but Mari saw the rhythm in it all as their camels slowly moved through the throngs of people. They were headed for drink and lodging in the quieter regions of the city and she could not tear her gaze from the people as they were making their way through the stands and open tents, selling and buying their assortment of things. But there was also a presence among the people that if you looked hard enough, you could spot anywhere.

All around, Mari could spot the deep blue turbans of sworded men standing in pairs on almost every corner. They were dressed like guards and had the curved sabers at their side. But not all were sentries. Some walked behind men who were also dressed in blue robes and collecting coins from the venders. Mari was wondering who they were and why they all dressed alike, when she looked up and instantly understood.

The royal palace stood high in the background and now having an unobstructed view, Mari saw the enormous, long blue banners that fell from window openings down the palace walls. They were the same blue and fluttered in the breeze. It was going to be her new home and instead of feeling happy that it was as splendid as it appeared, Mari could only feel an unexplainable sadness. She stared at it for an eternity, until her caravan turned down a street and she could no longer see it. With moist eyes, Mari adjusted her hood again, since people where pointing and whispering along the street, and tried to see where the Battam were headed.

A short while later, they were at a designated plot and clicking her tongue, so that her camel kneeled down, slid off the harness stiffly. Moving to the side, as was her custom, she waited until the clan was settled and Wadha came for her. Only this time, it was Battam who fetched her. He not only had her Roman issued wrist chains, but leg irons as well. He held them out wordlessly, and Mari stood up from the rock she had settled on and stretched her hands out. He secured them around her hands carefully, and hating that she could not keep from crying, sniffed forlornly as he bent down and did her ankles as well.

When he finally stood, Mari looked up and to her surprise every last person in the Battam clan had stopped their unpacking and was looking at her. Wavering slightly under the cautious regard, Mari swallowed and felt her knees get a little weak. Feeling dismal at the prospect of never seeing the clan again, Mari cleared her throat and said farewell. First in her Germanic tongue, then in Latin, and then in the one she had picked up from them. The Battam stood in collective shock before slowly, answering her back. Touched that every last person in the vast family took their turn to respond, Mari smiled self-consciously and turned to face Battam. Despite his lousy temper that day, the old Sheik smiled his approval at her move, took the chain between her hands and walked off. Mari followed him back into the chaos of the Ma'in streets with her eyes cast down to the ground so that her hood revealed nothing of her appearance. In reality she knew exactly where she was headed to and as they made their way to the massive palace nestled high on a sea cliff, Mari hoped that it would all that Valeria said it would be.

---

Lo'gan mounted Nayif with a last killer glance at the royal guards before pulling the reins on his stallion to lead him in. Khalaf had warned him to expect resistance on the way into the great city, but Lo'gan was not in much of a mood to be told what to do. Luckily, Harabi had a quick tongue and intervened before he did something foolish.

"Are you okay?"

Lo'gan nodded without looking at Harabi and stopped as the caravan in front of him ground to a halt. The city had double walls, which meant once you passed inspection at the first gate, you had to wait to be counted to pass the second. Eyeing the three story, double walls with distaste, Lo'gan wiped his brow in the confining afternoon humidity and pulled his camel in close. They were the smallest caravan around and had to keep together to avoid getting lost in the shuffle.

"You should not have told that guard that he was a camel dropping. Or did you want to spend your first night here in a dungeon?"

Lo'gan ignored the mischief in Harabi's voice and worked at calming down his temper.

"But it was nothing. Let's forget that my brother, and talk about where we are going first."

Lo'gan gave Harabi a look that did not hide his animosity.

"We must see the Sultan first. That search was an injustice."

"Of course, of course, but then I know this most excellent place with a……"

"You will find nothing but trouble and if you thief your way into danger, I will not be responsible."

Harabi made a gasping sound and opened his eyes wide to show his indignation.

"I am not a thief and I just saved your hide back there! That guard was livid when you refused to unpack!"

Lo'gan snorted at the memory of the scuffle.

"You saved his hide, not mine."

"Whatever."

Not allowing Lo'gan's disposition from dissuading his fun, Harabi rolled his eyes and filed that story away. Despite what Lo'gan thought, he did save them from one hell of a fight. Perking up as the caravan before them picked up and moved, Harabi moved his horse to a steady trot. There were no guards ahead, instead a blue robed scribe. Harabi dismounted before Lo'gan did and approached him with flourish.

"Good day, sir."

The turbaned scribe did not even blink.

"Name and business."

Harabi grinned and bowed graciously.

"I am Harabi al Dawasir and this is my associate Lo'gan al Jabir."

"Name and business."

"We come to see the great Sultan in regards to a small error that was……"

"Do you have a royal decree?"

Harabi laughed. Lo'gan raised an eyebrow.

"Dear sir, it was inscribed for all the clans to see, so we could not take it. We are representing two clans in……"

The scribe sighed in utter boredom and began his prepared speech halfway through Harabi's.

"We cannot give you access to the palace grounds without a decree. Our great and noble Sultan will be celebrating his fortieth birthday tomorrow and cannot see commoners. If you return next season……"

"What?!? He threatens our lifewater and cannot see us? We demand that……"

The scribe jumped back at Lo'gan's outburst and actually looked something other than bored. Seeing his plan go to waste, Harabi held him back and giving Lo'gan a crazed look.

"Lo'gan can you go check the horses? Now?"

"But…"

"They look thirsty."

Lo'gan glared at the scribe, who actually cowered and stomped off with one last glare at his companion. Harabi turned to the scribe once again, showing every last one of his teeth in a wide smile.

"Sir, my apologies. I completely understand. My brother here has been in the sun too long and well he needs to be……well, alleviated."

The scribe turned to look at Lo'gan's livid features from where he was petting Nayif and fought the smile that wanted to creep onto his lips. Lo'gan flexing his hands, certain they were talking about him.

"Alleviated?"

Harabi nodded sagely.

"It's a long story. That's why were a really here. The rest was just a cover. Would you have any, uhh, recommendations?"

The scribe raised his eyebrows and straightening out his thobe, leaned forward.

"If you can afford it, the eastern district has some very choice places."

Harabi withdrew a coin from somewhere in his robes and discretely placed it on the stand the scribe worked on. The blue robed man opened his eyes wide before slipping it into his own robes.

"I thank you for that information, sir, and well, hope it will be enough to help with his……problem."

They both turned to look at Lo'gan's frantic pacing a little ways off with a smirk. The scribe added two more polished black pebbles, and four white ones to the tall basket next to him.

"You and your animals have been counted. You may enter and good luck with your brother and this, uhh, problem."

Harabi nodded sadly and walked off. Without going anywhere near Lo'gan, he mounted his horse and secured his camel's lead. Lo'gan was split between choking him and getting on and following him. Eventually curiosity got the better of him and he mounted Nayif and pulled up alongside Harabi.

"Well?"

"We can enter."

"What good will that do if we can't even see the Sultan?"

Harabi shook his arm and a square stone marker fell out of his sleeve. Catching it with his hand, he held it out for Lo'gan to see. Lo'gan grabbed it and instantly recognized the single tiger claw carved into the center.

"What the hell is this?"

"That is a decree. The Sultan is having a celebration tomorrow and all we have to do is get the proper clothes and show up at the palace door with a gift and that little invitation."

Lo'gan smiled despite himself and tucked the little stone tablet into his sash before anyone saw it. They were already inside the crowded city and there were guards everywhere.

"And how exactly are we going to get money for fine clothes and a gift?"

Harabi beamed at Lo'gan and turned to the roads leading to the eastern district.

"Well, dear brother, we have all night to gamble, plus I know some people."

"In other words, you'll steal them."

Harabi looked at Lo'gan with an ear to ear smile before pulling ahead to lead the way. Lo'gan shook his head and wondered how exactly they would pull anything off if Harabi was thrown in a dungeon for stealing. Sighing heavily and feeling the decree in his sash, he at least admitted that the Dawasir was good. Maybe he was worth having around after all. Forgiving him for whatever nonsense he told the scribe at the gate, Lo'gan weaved Nayif through the crowds slowly. He knew where they were heading, since he went there every few years, when he went this far south.

It was something most clansmen did when entering the city limits, but for once, Lo'gan did not want to just find the first willing female. He wanted something different this time. He knew that if someone as experienced as Harabi said he'd only heard of a green eyed female and not seen one, that he would probably never see one neither, but something in Lo'gan wanted to look just in case. His dreams had intensified and he was increasingly desperate to find her. Even if it was futile, he would look.

Little did Lo'gan know that he had just passed his mysterious dream woman, wearing a long robe with a hood, chained to a merchant, who was heading to the great white palace on the cliff to give her away to someone else.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan looked across the busy tent to the people pouring in and out of its entrance. It was a huge tarp, lit with oil lamps that held dozens of people all trying to make money from games of chance. Scanning the crowd of faces with a calculating eye, Lo'gan kept a lookout for trouble. Harabi was one of the big winners that night. Surrounded by women waiting for him to grow tired and leave with them, he laughed and joked his way for countless hours. Lo'gan was not sure how he did it, but he was certain Harabi was cheating. He did lose on occasion, but it wasn't enough to dent his winnings and Lo'gan watched the crowd for signs that it was time to move on. In a way, he had to admit that Harabi was in his element. He was charming and knew how to work a crowd and looking over at Lo'gan every few minutes, very aware of his surroundings.

It was in one of those silent communications that Lo'gan sensed trouble. There was a crowd of men in one side of the tent that were not pleased at Harabi's luck. Nodding to him almost imperceptibly, Lo'gan started walking towards the entrance, all the time watching the men from across the room. Harabi moved to lose three games in a row and disentangle himself from the women, claiming his luck had changed and had had enough for one night. Taking advantage of the commotion of someone else winning, he slipped outside easily and met Lo'gan in the alleyway. It was dark, but Lo'gan could see the white in Harabi's smile.

"Not bad, huh, my Jabir brother?"

The Dawasir tossed him a purse, which Lo'gan emptied into his own discretely. Over the night, they had built a considerable amount that he carried for safety.

"How many times must I tell you, that you are not my brother?"

Harabi looked around and emptied some more currency from his sleeve. Lo'gan took those too and was tempted to yank them back, just to see what it was that he had in the wide armholes.

"That is what you say, but I know you feel differently."

Lo'gan sighed and looked up to see the moon almost three quarters through its nightly course. Glancing back to see if they were being followed, he added in a low tone.

"We have enough. We should leave before your luck runs out. The guards sweep this area on occasion."

Harabi snorted and started walking towards the next noisy tent, just up the street.

"Bah! The night is still young! We have time, but if you wish, we can retire to this place I know well."

Lo'gan smirked, knowing exactly where the Dawasir wanted to go.

"I should check on Nayif. There are plenty of horse thieves in this city."

Harabi started laughing.

"A horse? You're worried about your horse? Gods! You are worse than I thought. Com'on you can meet some girls, leave that horse alone."

Lo'gan thought that over. All night he had searched the crowds for deep green eyes, but he had lost hope hours ago. Everyone had the same dark black ones that he did and it was a futile search. Harabi saw his face change and instantly knew what Lo'gan was contemplating.

"Hey, the girl I'm going to go see would know."

Lo'gan snapped out of his daydreaming and regarded Harabi in frustration.

"Know what?"

"Ha! You know exactly what, com'on, we are wasting time, dear brother!"

Lo'gan was about to protest, but Harabi had already started walking off and looking around to see a few couples in the alleys surrounding the street squares, Lo'gan figured he should at least follow the Dawasir to keep him out of trouble. With a defeated grumble, he stomped to where Harabi was going, upset that he hadn't found what he was looking for and disappointed that in the crowded city he would not be contemplating the stars out on the dunes that night.

They arrived at the house just a short walk later. On their way, they had seen guards harassing some people, but slipping around to another street to avoid them reached the house safely enough. Strangely enough, Harabi did not knock on the door, instead, went around to climb down stone steps leading to an underground floor. Lo'gan followed in silence, not entirely sure of what he was doing but game for it anyway. When they reached a second door, Harabi knocked four times. Lo'gan waited with a hand on his Khanjar, until the door swung open and a girl stepped out amid the sounds of giggling and music.

She was dressed in a shocking yellow dress parted up to her waist on both legs. Lo'gan stared at the slits while she stared at Harabi who was looking at her with his arms out expectantly. In a move that made the walls reverberate, she muttered `bastard' and slapped Harabi hard across the face before turning on her heel and storming back in. A stunned Harabi looked at an equally stunned Lo'gan before pounding on the door.

"Aww, Miznih, please, I can explain, I can explain!"

He pounded on the door and wailed, until Lo'gan burst into laughter. The girl just did in three seconds, what he had wanted to do for over three weeks.

"Your friend, huh? Are all your friends this happy to see you?"

Harabi turned to tell him to shut him up, but the door suddenly swung open again. The girl in yellow smiled provocatively at Lo'gan and pulled him in by the hand.

"You can come in though. Welcome to Miznih's, what's your name?"

Lo'gan blinked at her obvious attempt to infuriate the Dawasir and let himself get pulled into the brightly decorated house.

"Lo'gan."

Harabi balked and jumped to separate them.

"Hey!! I said I was sorry!"

The girl shook off his hand on her arm and looked at Lo'gan pointedly as she walked him in. Lo'gan could see about a dozen couples kissing and cuddling along the mountains of pillows lining the place. She kicked the wooden door behind her, but Harabi caught it and followed them.

"Lo'gan, can you please tell that animal that he is not invited in, only you are."

Lo'gan turned to Harabi with a grin, clearly enjoying the Dawsir's reception.

"You heard her, scram."

Harabi looked about to cry and stuttered.

"Well, ah, maybe I'm not here to see you, Miznih. Maybe I came just to……see her."

Harabi walked over to put an arm around another girl and Lo'gan sighed. He had dealt with females enough to know that was a big mistake. True enough, the girl that was clinging to his arm, jumped up in reaction.

"What the hell do you think you're doing??"

Harabi grinned, very pleased with himself and apparently having a death wish.

"Like I said I came to see he……"

The soft music of the oud stopped and everyone turned to look as the girl's screamed and charged. Her fist connected with Harabi's face and he fell back into probably the only space in the entire house not padded with cushions. His head hit the stone floor hard and still rubbing her knuckles, the girl jumped to his side. Lo'gan rolled his eyes at the sight of Harabi wailing in pain and the Miznih crying and soothing him. Eventually they started kissing and the couples went right back to what they were doing. Even the oud started back up again and Lo'gan wondered how they could even breathe with the amount of incense smoking up the place. There were small rooms leading to the bigger one, and watching in exasperation as Miznih carried a limping Harabi into one of them, Lo'gan shook his head and looked around, too disgusted by the disturbing reunion to even stay.

There was a stairway on one side of the room and making his way to it, stopped short when a girl crossed his path. It was the same one that Harabi had put an arm around and she was wearing an all too familiar smile. Lo'gan figured Harabi was gone for the night and he had time, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

"Sorry, I can't."

The girl looked Lo'gan over and seeing his remarkably heavy purse hanging off his sash, opened her eyes wide.

"Yes you can, let me show you."

Closing the distance to him, she threw her arms around his neck and brought Lo'gan close to her so she could whisper in his ear.

"I can do anything you want."

To Lo'gan's dismay, his body reacted to her words even when his mind didn't want to. He tightened his grip around the girl's waist and pushing her against a wall in the dark stairwell, lowered his face to kiss her lips. The instant his lips touched hers, he felt her tongue move to pry open his mouth. Flashes of the night Salma kissed him came flooding back and after only a few seconds, Lo'gan pulled back. The force at which he did so, caused him to bang the girl into the wall and opening his eyes wide, Lo'gan stared down into her eyes. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but what he saw did not please him.

"What's wrong?"

Lo'gan searched for the right words to describe it, but he himself really didn't know. She was pretty but not what he had been dreaming about for four nights in a row. A very distinct pair of eyes haunted him. Eyes that looked right into him and smiled, this was not it. Giving up on trying to explain that, Lo'gan let go of the girl completely and stepping back abruptly, fished three coins from his purse, without even seeing what they were and pressed them into her hands.

"Sorry."

Turning to face the stairs again, Lo'gan finished his way up the two flights of stairs and was relieved when he saw that they led to the flat roof. Breathing in the cool air, his eyes immediately turned to the sky. It was not the same as the still desert night, but it would do. Sitting down against an edge of the roof, Lo'gan tore off his ghutra and tossed it to the side. He wondered about his horse and about his family and about his dreams for a long time. He had been anxious and fidgety all day and he understood now why that was. He was not in his element and he had to be in order to be content and happy.

Eventually, Lo'gan's eyelids began to weight down on him. Still watching the familiar stars move across the sky, he welcomed sleep knowing for certain that he would dream again of haunting green eyes. They always accompanied his nightmare, but he really didn't care anymore. He needed to feel her, even if it was just a fleeting fantasy where they only shared one kiss and nothing else, because he needed it. In just a few days Lo'gan had grown to realize that she was as essential to him as lifewater itself. He was not sure why, but he needed that girl.

---

A short distance away in the palace walls, Mari lay in a room, watching the very same stars that Lo'gan did. Valeria had been so sure that she would be in good hands and lead a good life, but Mari already knew that to be false. In less than a half day, she had understood the gravity of her situation and it was disheartening.

Once Battam left with a few quiet words she could not understand and a gracious bow that morning, she had been taken by the woman to a large room deep in the palace bowels. Mari followed the woman whom Battam had given her keys to nervously, not able to see the beautiful art that lined the walls there. All she could fixate on were the keys dangling in the woman's hands and the heavy steps of guards behind her. Unlike the Battam, she wasn't let out of sight for a second and Mari cowered in her hood, not knowing how to shake the terrible feeling in her stomach.

They walked for a good while, until finally reaching an enormous door. It was carved wood with beautiful gold accents and Mari wondered if even the Romans were capable of such fine work. So caught up in the exotic birds carved into it, Mari failed to notice when the woman walked in and only reacted when the guard shoved her into the dim room. Mari looked up, having stepped on a beautifully soft rug. Following the patterns to where they disappeared under a massive bed, Mari looked up in curiosity.

Her hood prevented a clear view, but there was a woman seated on it. She had on a blue robe that seemed to shimmer like water itself and was stitched with golden thread all throughout. Mari gasped at the grandness in it and failed to hear the woman that escorted her in. It was the guard that eventually pushed her down to her knees and realizing that she was before an important person, Mari bowed to her knees like the others did. When they finally stood, Mari did too and watched with unease as the blue robed woman slid off the bed and grabbed for the cane resting by the side.

["Step forward, child."]

Mari looked at the woman who escorted her in and seeing the slight nudge of her head, took a tiny step forward towards the lady in blue. She was old and not exactly beautiful, but very made up and painted very carefully. She wore a sweet smile, but Mari knew it was not her true self. Her eyes were cold and they overshadowed everything else about her.

["Closer, child, closer"]

Mari saw the gesture in her long, elegant hand and took another step forward. She was now at arm's length and not knowing what to expect, bit her lip in fear. The woman saw this and with a smirk, reached out to pull the tie on Mari's anabbayah sash. Mari stood very still and looked down, remembering how coldly Aerius inspected her in what seemed a lifetime ago. The woman moved closer, all the while leaning on her cane. It made her movements almost snakelike in nature and without breaking her fluid movement, she peeled away the black garment. The woman did not gasp or stumble like most, but Mari could see the surprise on her face nevertheless, as her eyes were revealed and her long wavy auburn hair fell over her shoulders. Taking some of it into her fingers, the woman looked into Mari's wide green eyes carefully.

["My son will like you immensely."]

More anxious by her smile than soothed, Mari blinked as the lady moved her gaze down her body. She had worn the column Roman dress and pleased with what she saw, the lady was about to turn and leave when she caught a glimmer of gold peak out from under Mari's sleeve. Before she could even see her move, the woman pulled back the linen to reveal the gold arm band that Valeria had given her. Mari opened her mouth to protest and took a step back.

"It was a gift, from a friend and……"

["Silence!!!"]

Mari startled at the sound that emanated from the old woman and the word still reverberating in the tall chamber, felt herself get yanked by the guard behind her. The woman approached her again in her graceful way and the first impression that Mari had of her was reinforced. With an ugly snarl that changed her entire face, she tore it off Mari's arm while the guard held her.

"No, please, listen to me……"

Mari tried to explain, but the woman's cane to the side of her face silenced her. Even the guard grimaced and eyes watery and cheek red from the blow with the gold tipped cane, Mari fought with the pain not to fall over. She was held up by the guard and watched as the old woman took her beloved gift and examined the mysterious symbols on it. Satisfied by its weight, she lay it down on her table and spoke to Mari's escort without even looking at her.

["Prepare her well for tomorrow. She will be on display and will learn her place soon enough."]

The woman bowed again and holding her stinging cheek, Mari felt the guard bow behind her too. They left the room quickly and pushing her along, the three made their way to the other side of the palace without speaking a word. Once inside another room, Mari was allowed to sit and the guard was dismissed. Still crying bitterly over the loss of Valeria's gift, Mari largely ignored what the woman said to her and spent the rest of the day pretty much unresponsive as they prepared her to the old woman's specifications.

Shedding a tear and touching the tender spot on her cheek, Mari recalled the women that came to help with her preparation. They were about eleven of them and Mari instantly knew they were the Sultan's harem. They were all lavishly dressed in fine fabrics and decked in gold. There hair was braided in ways Mari had never seen before and they worked quickly and quietly, occasionally glancing at her eyes. Mari watched them without any regard of what they were doing to her. They seemed beautiful and she couldn't understand why they were so sad. But gradually she began to notice things.

When one started pressing a compress to her cheek, she saw that she herself had a similar mark on her back. Quickly looking to the next, she saw teeth marks on her shoulder. Another had whip marks across her back and still another had a bruised eye. They were all marked in some fashion and this cemented in Mari that she was in a really bad situation. On the verge of panic, Mari brushed off the women and ran to the windows. Separating the tall heavy curtains, she saw that they were barred and too high for her to escape. Frantically trying the door next, she learned that it was locked. With her chained hands on her head in desperation, she went round and round, crying in near panic until she began to feel faint. It was all too much for her. Valeria had been wrong. She was not safe there. If the Sultan was to be anything like the blue lady, she would be more than slave, she would be a prisoner.

The other wives looked at her sadly, but without shedding a tear as she tore around the room. Finally collapsing on the floor, they moved to help her. Working diligently and quietly, they removed her chains, washed her, pierced her with jewelry the Sultan was sure to like and clothed her again in silks so fine they were transparent. Having woven golden threads into her hair and covered her in priceless myrrh, they then moved to complete the most important of all tasks.

Mixing the sacred henna tannis powder with hot water, oil, lemon juice, coffee, indigo and cloves the women derived a paste. Dipping bone picks to it, they applied it to Mari's pale skin in numerous designs. Mari awoke a few times during the process and too fuzzy to move or ask what they were doing to her, simply faded back into black as the jeweled hands of the women moved expertly over skin. When she regained consciousness that night, she was on a cushiony bed, softer than anything she had experienced before and the women were each sleeping on their own, spread throughout the spacious room.

The only sources of light were the tall windows, which were open to allow breeze to enter. To Mari, it smelled different and walking to it, she exhaled slowly at the view she did not catch the first time. It was the ocean and it glimmered under the moonlight beautifully. Looking up to catch the moon in all its glory, Mari thought of Danea and Valeria. They would see the same sky as her and missing them terribly, moved her hand to the place where her cuff had been. It was gone now and with it, much of Mari's will to live. She touched it every night and dreamed of the day she would return for them. Now she could never get back. Her only guide back home was gone.

Wiping the hot tears that fell from her eyes, angry that she had broken her oath and was crying for her loved ones, Mari noticed something on her hand. Bringing them up to the moonlight, she stared at them for over a minute in awe. They were covered in a black ink that did not wear off. Gasping in shock, Mari pulled at her feathery light clothing she was covered in and almost choked at seeing how much the black designs covered her body. Little animals, stars and geometric paisley patterns trailed in curving lines from her breasts down her sides, curved around her stomach and hips and winded down her legs and arms down to her fingertips. She had numerous rings in her too, one on her bellybutton, several on her ear lobes, and even one on her left nipple. Not knowing what to make of them, Mari went to take them off, but her skin was tender and tight around the little gold rings. She had seen holes in Valeria's ears and decided to leave them alone, or they would get infected. Ripping off her draped skirts angrily, she tossed those instead and buried her face in her hands.

Giving up on the despair she felt knowing that they were there for someone else's benefit, Mari sobbed and wrapped her now freed arms around her knees. Pulling them up to her chest, she rocked herself to still her fear swirling in her stomach and looked up at the familiar sky. Watching it always comforted her and even though her bracelet map was gone, she would find a way. She had to escape or at least die trying.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan watched as Ma'in woke up slowly, from his place on Miznih's roof. He did manage to get a few hours of sleep, but had been awake for a while, as always, unable to rest again after his dream woke him up. He had dreamed of her again, and in a way, it made the preceding nightmare almost worth having. He wasn't sure at what point he had decided, but watching the sun inch up towards its place in the sky, Lo'gan had concluded that he would have to find her. Ma'in was a good place to start and even if it meant traveling the coast from city-state, to city-state, he was prepared to do it. It was frightening to be that obsessed, but Lo'gan had resolve and he was passionate if anything else. Even though it might ultimately prove to be a useless search, he had to try and he would start as soon as he could after he concluded his mission.

Unfortunately, his objective in convincing the Sultan that he needed to repeal the tariffs placed on the Bedouin trade, would not be very easy. In their wanderings the previous night, Lo'gan had heard and seen many things. His clan having steady business with another city, Lo'gan had visited Ma'in only a few times, briefly as side trips to other places. He had little experience there but he could still feel the palpable dissatisfaction on the streets and the discontent of the people.

The abundance of royal guards was strange and even though it was the Imperial city, they seemed excessive in every way. Everyone complained of the increasing taxes and the tariffs on trade and many merchants wanted to leave, only they were made to hold contracts that prevented them from doing so. As a desert dweller, Lo'gan had found that ridiculous. The essence of trade was to be mobile and the Sultan either didn't know that or didn't care. And from what Lo'gan overheard in the gambling tents and eastside alleyways, it was the latter.

Sultan Nasir was not a very well liked ruler. After the previous Sultan's untimely death, his sister, Princess Zainab, declared herself queen and assumed leadership of Arabia for her son, Nasir, who at the time was a child. It was a bad time for Arabia, but content that at least the royal bloodlines were kept intact, there was little resistance in the transition of power as the land mourned the tragic loss of a beloved Sultan and his wife.

Lo'gan knew little of that story, mostly because it happened before his birth and it somehow involved an infidelity and a suicide. That itself made people wary of speaking about the previous Sultan, lest bad luck descend on them. Lo'gan was curious about the story, but even in his own clan, it was never mentioned by Khalaf's special order for respect of the dead. He had even seen his mother, Joza, carry a peacock charm on her bracelet, the symbol of the previous queen, but she never spoke about it, and so it was a virtual mystery.

The new queen was anything but well regarded. She was cruel, vain and vindictive, and everyone silently hoped that her son would be better. Unfortunately, he wasn't and when he finally came of age, Nasir took control as Sultan and promptly proceeded to make everyone's life harder.

Under his leadership, the royal wealth began to diminish greatly. Apparently, he threw very lavish parties and squandered most of Arabia's gold on lavish gifts for himself and his aging mother without any consideration to his vast kingdom, his people or their plight. He seldom left his palace and in its walls, he ruled in absolute dictatorship without bothering to even glance at the throngs of people he was supposed to care for.

Over the years, the seemingly endless royal wealth had dwindled down to a fraction of what it once was and to maintain his affluent lifestyle, the Sultan had been steadily increasing trade taxes for years. The desert nomads were not immediately affected, but with his financial situation getting worse, Sultan Nasir just recently declared a thirty percent increase in his portion of what the Bedouin traded as well.

Lo'gan shook his head in frustration. That move just proved how inept the Sultan was and from what he had heard of the celebration he was throwing himself that very day, reasoning with him was going to be near impossible. Someone that egotistical would never care that the desert clans were going to suffer in the long run. Commerce in the coastal cities was still good, but only possible because of the families that crossed the deserts and if he didn't see that, Lo'gan did not know how he would meet his promise to his father. So much rested on him and even though he literally ached to find his girl, Lo'gan knew he had serious business to take care of first and foremost. The Jabir and countless other families were counting on them and he could not let them down.

Still watching the pink and orange sky, Lo'gan sighed when his contemplation was interrupted. The quick footsteps ascending the stone steps could belong to only one person.

"Good morning, my Jabir brother! How are you feeling?"

Lo'gan glanced at Harabi, who was shirtless and had on an even wider grin than usual. It would be a painfully long day.

"Not as well as you, I suppose."

Harabi chuckled and walked over to Lo'gan, who stood and shook the dust from his robes. His back ached a little from having slept leaning on a stone wall, but it would fade before midday. He flexed his stiff arms and grabbed his ghutra from off the floor, pinning loose strands of his coal black hair behind his ear.

"Yes, I heard. Now saying no to a beautiful girl is not normal. You are worse off than I thought."

Lo'gan shook off Harabi's hand from his shoulder and headed towards the stairwell.

"That's none of your business, Dawasir."

Harabi snorted and followed him down.

"None of my business? You are my brother and I am very, very concerned for you. This green-eyed thing has gone on long enough."

Lo'gan rolled his eyes and stomped down the stairs, eager to get off that particular conversation.

"Shut up, Dawasir, we got work to do. We have to get back to our animals and start finding the things we need. The celebration is only hours away."

Harabi squeezed by Lo'gan with a smirk. Stopping on the ground floor landing, he spun around and leaned on a door.

"Everything we need is right here."

With flourish, he opened the door to reveal a large room with an overwhelming assortment of cloths, garments and shoes. Lo'gan blinked at the assault of colors on his senses and realized they were in a store. Jewel toned fabric draped from every corner and he could even see a stack of cushions and pillows like the ones downstairs mercilessly crowding one entire wall.

His thinking was interrupted by a curse and looking over, Lo'gan saw a flurry of things being tossed in the air from a corner. It was Harabi's assailant. She peeked out from under a tangle of headpieces and smiled cheerily. She had a more traditional dress on this time, however it was still yellow.

"Hello Lo'gan. Heard about your problem. I'm so, so sorry."

Lo'gan tightened his jaw and looked at Harabi, who just shrugged, cleared his throat and quickly went to the girl's side.

"Umm, you misunderstood, Miznih. Now why don't you go get some food, we can find what we need."

The girl straightened out with hands on her hips. Her smile vanished instantly and Lo'gan thought, `here we go'.

"I am not a serving girl and this is my store, if you……"

Harabi grinned and wrapped his arms around her. She still looked pissed, but let herself get kissed. Lo'gan grimaced at their inability to keep it in private and started thumbing through squares of folded fabric on the tables all around him. Most garment merchants were not wealthy enough to have a house for their store. Insane or not, the girl in yellow must have been pretty well off to be able to afford one. Then again, running a hidden brothel downstairs helped considerably. Without even looking at them, Lo'gan asked out loud.

"Do you know what it is that we need this for?"

Miznih broke away from Harabi's lips with some effort and grinned.

"I'm not going to tell anyone."

"That's not what I'm worried about. We need high quality robes."

Lo'gan dropped what he was examining, turned to the couple and hopped onto one of the tables. To Harabi's dismay, Miznih scampered away from his embrace and walked over to Lo'gan in a flutter.

"I have the perfect thing! Harabi, be a lamb and fetch me that box up there."

"Miznih!"

"Just go, it's right there."

Lo'gan saw the excitement in the girl's eyes as she hustled her lover across the room and wondered what exactly women found so appealing in clothes. Enjoying the defeated look on Harabi's face, Lo'gan smirked as he dejectedly began to climb a wall display full of fabric bolts to reach a wooden box on the highest shelf.

"You know, Lo'gan, you could help me."

Lo'gan crossed his arms.

"I'm fine."

Harabi snorted and took the last step to finally reach the box. Dropping it to Miznih below, he then began his climb down. Regrettably, his bare foot slipped on a scrap of fabric when he was halfway down and he fell hard on the floor.

"Owwww!"

Lo'gan raised an eyebrow at the ungraceful thump, but just looked back at Miznih, who was already opening the wooden box with more gusto than he thought possible. She was tossing things here and there and speaking too fast for him to understand what she was saying, but he liked what he saw. There were three complete robes, all black with different colored trimmings. His eyes immediately went to the one lined in silver cord thread. He knew nothing of the fabrics that the girl was rambling on about, but he took the one that caught his eye and tossed it over his shoulder. Without even asking, he jumped off the table, opened the purse that was tucked in his sash and dropped almost fifteen coins in the girl's hands. Finally silenced, Miznih stared at them with a smile growing on her face.

"Will that be enough?"

"Umm, sure. More than enough!"

Limping over to the table, Harabi's eyes widened at the amount.

"Hey, that's my money too!"

Lo'gan ignored him and threw one of the black robes at the Dawasir without even looking at him.

"You'll need shoes too. I have some very fine slippers."

Lo'gan looked down at his dusty leather sandals and agreed.

"Alright."

Miznih jumped up excitedly and ran off again to dig through more things. Still limping, Harabi grabbed Lo'gan's arm before he could follow.

"They aren't worth `that' much. You overpaid her!"

Lo'gan shrugged him off.

"We have enough, plus she deserves a bonus for putting up with you, Dawasir."

With that, Lo'gan walked off and Harabi hobbled after him.

"W-what? Wait, wait!"

When Lo'gan reached Miznih, she already had the slippers. She lifted them up for Lo'gan to see and pouted when she saw his reaction.

"What is it?"

Lo'gan poked at the black satin shoes.

"Are those men's slippers?"

"Of course."

"They have curly toes."

Miznih giggled.

"Of course they do. Now take them and go change. You can use the room at the end. I'll have breakfast and water taken to you in just a moment after I open up the store."

Lo'gan took the hated slippers and added them to his pile of things. Harabi looked at Miznih in growing annoyance.

"You wouldn't get `my' breakfast."

Miznih smirked and crossed her arms.

"That's because you were demanding and rude. Isn't that right, Lo'gan?"

"Yup, demanding."

Harabi stopped rubbing his head and gaped at Lo'gan. Turning to Lo'gan, Miznih continued her conversation and promptly ignored Harabi.

"I'll have your animals brought to my pen, where were you staying?"

"Good Fortune lodging. It's in the south quarter. We have two camels and two horses. They'll need to be watered beforehand."

Miznih nodded and began pulling the bolts that secured the wide double doors to her establishment. Harabi had given up hobbling around after her and settled in front of a polished brass mirror, checking his head for injury and throwing hurtful glances towards Miznih.

"I know where that is, my servant will go and fetch them. He is very trustworthy and you are welcomed to stay here until necessary."

"Thank you. You are very generous."

Miznih smiled cheerily at him and Harabi snorted. Already halfway out the back door, Lo'gan added over his shoulder.

"Oh, and he thought I overpaid you as well."

Lo'gan walked out quickly, not needed to see them to have known the look on each of their faces. Before he reached the staircase, he heard the thump that he knew was the door bolt being thrown at the Dawasir and the crash that followed. Closing his door quickly, he dropped his new robes on the cot and began undressing with a smile. Even through the door, he could hear the yelling. Three weeks of torture and in the end, the Dawasir had gotten his due. The fact that it was at the hands of his own woman, made it even funnier.

Lo'gan laughed out loud as he took off his clothes. The last thing he had wanted to do was spend a day in the presence of rich nobility and their grandiose shows of wealth, but he had to. Of course he had another incentive. His search would continue and maybe, just maybe, he would find her there.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Mari was still dreaming of tall dark evergreens swaying in the cold winter air, when a gentle shake woke her up. Temporarily lost in the smell of currant sauce boiling over an open fire, Mari blinked at the person touching her, not quite understanding who she was until a sudden flash in her mind brought it all back. Bolting upright, she almost fell when she realized she was curled up on a window ledge. An arm reached out to steady her and looking down at the dark designs painted onto the slim dark fingers, Mari yanked back and scrambled to her feet. All the wives looked at her and not sure what to do, Mari backed up against the wall wringing her hands together.

["I-I don't belong here. I need to go."]

The women exchanged glances and continued staring. Looking down at her ruined clothes, Mari felt a pang of regret at having torn the beautiful clothes to shreds the night before.

["I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, but you have to help me……I, I have to get out of here."]

The woman that had woken her up, shook her head slowly, not understanding Mari's words, but understanding their meaning. Mari felt her heart rate increase a notch and sniffled to prevent the tears from starting up again. These women couldn't get her out of there even if they tried. Putting her head back against the wall, Mari closed her eyes and slid down to the floor. The woman that had woken her up, got down on her knees beside Mari and placed her hand on Mari's shoulder. The warmth of the skin made Mari look up at her and the eldest wife spoke in a low voice.

"Queen Zainab will come soon, you must be prepared or she will be angry."

Mari stared at the red stained lips, trying hard to understand at least one word, but it was hard. She looked at the others and they had equally blank expressions.

["I don't understand."]

The eldest wife paused in thought and having an idea called for her fellow sister-wife. The girl dressed in teal came forward with green fabrics and gave them to the eldest, who put them in Mari's lap. She clutched Mari's hand and pressed them into the emerald green satin.

"You must get ready."

Mari looked up at the last word. It was the one Battam always declared when the tribe was to start gathering. It was a call to get equipped and organized. She understood clearly what was being asked of her and even if she didn't want to see anyone, it was an opportunity. Just the opportunity she might need. Nodding furiously, Mari sniffed and went to stand up.

["Okay, I'll get ready."]

The eldest wife smiled at Mari in relief and nodded at the others, who moved to bring all the things that were needed. With hand gestures and slow words, they instructed her to remove her outer clothing. Mari did so reluctantly, but complied nevertheless. If she wanted to escape, she needed to behave and be patient. What they did was scrub down her skin with tiny seeds so that the black markings became more reddish-brown in tint. Mari examined her hands carefully, seeing the beautiful artistry in them for the first time and felt an overwhelming sorrow for the women that waited on her. Just like the time she attempted to escape with the Romans, Mari felt like she was betraying the women by leaving them behind, but there was no way she could promise them freedom. She would have to go alone because she couldn't live with a person's life on her conscience and like she had sworn the night before, she was going to escape or die trying.

Sighing deeply at the thought, Mari did not even notice that they were finished scrubbing until she felt something wet cloth in her hand. Mari was told in gestures to go to a giant tub and wash. Doing it quickly under the careful gaze of the eldest wife, Mari emerged from the enormous clam shaped basin with her skin glowing. Wrapped in absorbent cottons a short while later, Mari was seated on a fringed cushion and told to wait, as the green fabric that was to be her outfit was unfurled before her. Mari's eyes widened at the lack of material and was almost in tears again when she remembered that it was the only way. Timidly dropping her robe, she nodded to the women, who quickly began to dress her in it.

An hour later, she was completely dressed and being led to a mirror, something she had never seen before. When the eldest wife parted the curtains that protected it, Mari gasped and jumped back, but the woman held her in place and pointed to the mirror. Mari scanned her reflection slowly, not sure what shocked her more, the fact that she could see herself, or the fact that she was so changed. Wondering how the Arabians had ever managed to capture water and make it hard enough to press to a wall, Mari stepped forward and stretched a pale hand timidly to touch the smooth surface. Her bracelets jingled merrily and to her surprise, it was as cool to the touch as the marble floors. It was a beautiful thing, perfectly clear and pure. Mari smiled in wonder and only then looked past the surface to see herself. She could barely recognize the girl in the mirror.

Her skirt was made of a sheer fabric, a vibrant green that she imagined was chosen to compliment her eyes. It was low on her hips and split on both sides up to the gold cording that rested and circled on her hips. The top was equally as sheer, draped in the front and secured behind her neck, leaving her arms, back and stomach completely exposed. The gold bangles on her arms that clattered and chimed as she moved went halfway up to her elbows and she even had some around her upper arms. The same thin gold bands adorned all her fingers, her ankles and even the occasional toe. A jewel was added to her bellybutton and it too was green. Her hair was streaked with gold cording and little clasps, an entire chain swinging delicately past her forehead. Her ears were also hoped in earrings and the strangest things of all were her eyes.

Mari stared at them in the mirror and slowly watched as a single tear filled one and rolled slowly down her cheek. They were lined in heavy black kohl lines like the other women. Her lids and even under the eye was all smoky black and swept upwards. The effect brought out the greenness and exaggerated it greatly. Mari never thought much of her eyes before. They were green just like her father's and Danea's. They were another part of her, never to be thought of, but now, she hated them. They were the reason she was there and she hated them. They made her different and people stared, not because they were pretty, but because they were grotesque and unnatural. She would give anything not to have them, and looking away quickly from her reflection, Mari sobbed.

The eldest wife frowned and moved to hold Mari, but just then, the door clicked and all eleven women fell to their knees facing it. With great aplomb, the queen walked in, flanked on either side by blue turbaned guards. Mari froze were she was and stared. The queen's eyes fell on her and she snarled.

"Get down to your knees, child!"

Mari felt herself get pulled down by the eldest wife still kneeling at her side and got to her knees with tears still in her eyes. Her eyes fixed on the cane the queen had at her side. Her face still hurt dully from when she was hit with it. It occurred to Mari that the old woman really didn't need it, but that she carried it as a weapon. Something in her twisted at that realization. This woman was used to breaking people, turning them to nothing and making them bow at her presence, but she was not going to bow down to her.

"What are you looking at, insolent child?"

Mari yanked her hand from the eldest wife at her side and stood to her feet. The old woman in blue startled a little but quickly resumed her venomous look. Mari took that half-second's worth of fear and used it to fuel her resolve. She had wanted to cooperate and wait for a chance, but the blue witch was a thief that did not deserved to be bowed at. She stepped forward and both guards blinked at her, not sure what to make of the green clad beauty insane enough to stand to their queen.

["Give me what is mine, you witch!"]

Eyes wide in surprise, the queen lifted her cane and pointed to Mari.

"Stay where you are, or I will give my son your eyes in a box!"

Mari did not hear a word the queen said and continued to run to her, past the huddled forms of the other wives, angrily. Tearing one of the bracelets from her right hand, she flung them at her as she charged. One hit the old woman square on the chest, the other connected with a guard, who seemed to snap out of his indecision and stepped forward. The queen clutched her chest and screamed before they even hit the ground.

"Get her!! Get her!!"

Mari smiled at the fear she elicited, but was already intercepted by the guards before she could do any more damage. They had orders never to touch the Sultan's women, but unsure of what to do, held Mari in place while she struggled. The queen had recovered enough to slide up to Mari and bringing her cane up to strike her, froze when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"What's going on here?"

Everyone stopped wide-eyed as the Sultan burst through the door with two more guards. Everyone that is, except Mari. She looked right into the old woman's eyes and challenged her.

["Give me what is mine, thief!"]

The queen's eyes flared, but she dropped her cane quickly and turned to face her son, the Sultan, with a completely different expression.

"Nasir, you have ruined your surprise!"

The Sultan looked from his mother's playful smile, to his women all with their foreheads to the floor, to the terrified guards that were holding a…………green-eyed girl.

"Who is this, queen mother?"

The queen balked as her son moved forward to approach Mari. The guards had enough sense to straighten out a little but the queen could still see the flare in Mari's eyes. She quickly stepped forward to stop him.

"You mustn't, my most precious child. She is a surprise for the celebration tonight."

Nasir's smile spread on his face and he took one last glance at Mari, already forgetting that he had heard his mother scream.

"I cannot believe you did it! Where did you find her?"

The queen smiled and answered his next question before he even asked as she pulled him out of the room.

"You must be patient, my dear. I have gone through great lengths to acquire her from those thieving mongrel desert dwellers. But alas, I would do anything for my precious son."

The Sultan chuckled and tried to look back one more time. He hadn't thought of seeing his harem that early, but there was still time. The old woman looked at her guards and with a silent nod dispatched them.

"Mother, you are not dressed yet, perhaps you should……"

The old woman smirked knowingly.

"Absolutely not!! She will be on display for our guests. You can see her later."

To make emphasis, the queen squared her hands on her hips and the Sultan admitted defeat in his chuckle.

"Alright then, have you seen my new expansion plans?"

"No, but I would love to, my dear."

With her most sugary smile, the old queen let her son rant on about his plans, all the while cursing Mari for daring to challenge her. After her little display, she had all intentions of cutting her eyes out, but she was interrupted and now had to go through with her presentation to their guests. But there was time. She knew very well what her son's violent tastes were and she would only add to Mari's suffering gladly. No one crossed her, and the girl would learn soon enough.

Meanwhile, Mari was being led down another hallway. She knew that the guards were scared of handling her and having seen the Sultan, she stopped struggling and concentrated on memorizing all the passageways she was being led through. She watched carefully as the rooms got bigger and grander and as the sounds of laughing and music grew louder. Eventually, the guards stopped and the same woman that bought her from Battam came out to greet them. She was well dressed herself and nervously talking to the guards, Mari gathered that she learned of the little scuffle she had with the blue lady.

To Mari's dismay, the woman chained her again, only this time with a thin, delicate looking gold chain that linked her hands to her waist, instead of with heavy irons. Thankfully, it still offered maneuverability. The chain went around her waist loosely and more importantly, her feet were free. Led again by the guards, Mari was taken to a small curtained room, where she was made to step into a cage. It too was made of gold and lined with a cushion at the bottom, but her heart dropped when she saw how small it was. The only way she could fit was if she knelt and that was not something she wanted. To make matters worse, they locked her in with a key that the woman took away with her.

Holding onto the bars, Mari watched in growing horror as the men then went to the far side of the room and started pulling on a series of ropes that caused her cage to pitch forward.

["No, wait!! Please!!"]

Before she knew it, the entire thing was off the ground and the woman was pulling on the curtains that walled in the room. As they parted, the source of the noise and music hit Mari at once and she felt faint. A chorus of oohs and gasps could be heard as she was revealed to a roomful of strangers. Staring wide-eyed at the hundreds of people drinking and laughing in the massive room below her, Mari felt her hope get crushed yet again.

She was fifty feet in the air, suspended in a small cage by two ropes and locked with a key that she watched walk away in someone's hands. The only way she would escape is if someone let her down, and looking with watery eyes over the intoxicated throngs of wealthy partygoers, Mari did not see a single compassionate face. On the contrary, they stared and pointed at her strange eyes and pale skin, making Mari feel more exposed, alone and different than ever before. Swinging faintly in her gilded cage, she wept. For the first time in her months of slavery, Mari contemplated ending her life once and for all.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan tugged at his high collar for the tenth time that afternoon and clicked to Nayif for him to slow down. They were approaching the palace and almost at the stone gates, needed to wait behind the other guests to enter. Looking at Harabi, Lo'gan motioned to his hands. The Dawasir understood what he meant and shortened the hold on his stallion's reins to arch his back rigidly. It was not very comfortable for the stallions, but the resulting trot was necessary for their desired look.

Altogether they looked very wealthy in their black robes, but they still stood out from the other guests because of their black headdresses and the fact that they were on horseback. Everyone else on the waiting line had carriages and some even had elephants as transports, but having spent all morning brushing and adorning the stallions with tasseled reins and even head feathers, Lo'gan and Harabi looked presentable enough. The headdresses were another matter. It would have been easier to fit in with the nobility wearing high turbans, but Lo'gan and Harabi could not leave their Ghutras behind. The black cloths draped over their heads and secured with igaal cords were a symbol of their desert ancestry and it would have been impossible to speak for their people and not wear them.

Bringing their horses to a slow, high step trot when the convoy ahead of them was allowed in, Lo'gan and Harabi rode to the gatekeeper as nonchalantly as possible. The blue clad guards eyed them carefully and noticing this, Harabi immediately jumped into his planned speech. Lo'gan just listened, knowing the Dawasir was better at lying to people than he ever could be.

"This wait is unacceptable! We are guests of the Sultan and should be treated accordingly."

Any doubts the guards about Harabi and Lo'gan's authenticity vanished immediately and one stepped forward.

"Greetings, noble sirs. Our deepest apologies for the delay. We ask to see your decree."

Harabi took out the marker he had stolen from the city scribe and handed it down to the guard with an air of distaste. The guard took the marker with the tiger paw inscription without even looking at it and handed it to his partner. Harabi looked at them reproachfully and spit out.

"Now step aside, it is already late!"

The guards stumbled to open the iron gates and Harabi and Lo'gan brought their horses in slowly. Looking back to see the guards breathe a sigh of relief that they were not reprimanded further and hustle on to the next gueasts, Lo'gan chuckled. Harabi saw this and smirked too.

"Admit it."

"No."

"Com'on, I was good."

Lo'gan shook his head and fixed his sights on the path they were ascending.

"Fine, you're the best thieving, lying scoundrel I have ever met. Satisfied?"

To Lo'gan's surprise, Harabi grinned even wider.

"Yes, thank you so much."

With a flourish of his wide sleeves, Harabi bowed on his saddle and Lo'gan wondered if he was going to be trouble at the celebration.

"Just remember to keep your hands to yourself. We are not here to steal from these people."

Harabi snorted.

"Maybe you're not, but the way I figure it, these people are begging for it."

He pointed to the extravagant congregation in the gardens they were passing and Lo'gan frowned. He was not a thief, but Harabi was right. The nobility that was perusing through the prolific, lush gardens were all living off the backs of others. He had heard rumors of the palace's troubles, but what he saw now angered him. Everyone was bejeweled and drank from golden goblets as musicians played for their enjoyment. The palace might have needed money, but only to waste it on lavish parties. Meanwhile, the people needed better roads, bigger markets and more room to expand into. Lo'gan had seen enough during his stay in Ma'in to know that there were just too many street beggars and prostitutes in the crowded city. This only made it worse.

Tearing his sight from the laughing, chatting guests, Lo'gan focused again on where the path was leading them. It winded through gardens and fountains upwards on the cliff to the wide marble stairs that entered the palace. It truly was an impressive sight, but unfortunately tainted by being in the wrong hands. Almost there, Lo'gan snapped out of his thoughts when the stablemen ran up to them. It took him a second to react, but he halted Nayif, dismounted and patted the horse down a little before reluctantly handing the reins to a servant. In the desert, his stallion would go everywhere with him, but in the city, it was impossible and it was hard to leave him behind all the time.

"Thank you. Please take care of him well."

The servant snapped his head up in puzzlement and Lo'gan instantly knew he had said something wrong. Thankfully, Harabi walked over and shushed the man away.

"That will be all. Leave."

Bowing deeply, the stableman hurried off. Lo'gan glared at Harabi, who was already walking to the palace entrance.

"That was unnecessary."

"Maybe. But we need to act like these pompous people until we get what we want."

Lo'gan snorted and clasping his hands behind his back, trotted up the grand steps to the massive gold-overlaid doors. He could make out a myriad of people inside and immediately felt a pang of doubt. This was the best way to see the Sultan, but he did not like it. He always felt the direct approach was best and this was definitely not it. Turning to see Harabi talking haughtily with the doorman, he hoped it would at least work. The doorman accepted the gift that Harabi gave him and held it high for all to see. Another servant stepped forward and announced their names in a loud voice.

"Sir Lo'gan al Jabir and Sir Harabi al Dawasir from the north, with a gift of crystal fire for his majesty's approval."

Almost everyone stopped and looked at the new arrivals. Guests from all over had been announced the entire evening, but none were from the north. That ubiquitous introduction meant the desert lands and seeing how well the two handsome strangers were dressed and the size of the ruby they brought as a gift, prompted a flurry of whispers among the crowd. Ignoring all of it, Lo'gan and Harabi stepped into the mammoth room indifferently. With an uninterested expression, Lo'gan grabbed a challis from a servant and handed it to his partner. Taking one more for himself, he turned to Harabi as the crowd slowly went back to their animated chatting.

"I'm surprised you used our real names."

Harabi smiled and ran his sights across the glittering jewels on display in the room.

"I may be a thief, but I have pride and honor."

Lo'gan snorted and began to scan the room also.

"Pride and honor, yet you just handed over a fake ruby."

Harabi hid his grin with a drink from his cup and outlined a plan to work the room. The ultimate plan was to seek out the Sultan before his arrival that evening. It was common knowledge that he liked to make grand entrances and they had obviously arrived early enough to catch him beforehand. The grand room was heavily guarded, with sabered men throughout, but the hundreds of people, servants and roving artists ensured enough distractions to get through. Looking past a chorus of ahhs directed at a performer swallowing swords and another licking flames off a poker, Lo'gan took a sip of the red wine he had in his hands and muttered under his breath to Harabi.

"We better split up to find a way to his chambers quickly. Keep in view and when you spot one, give me the signal……and no stealing."

"Of course, my brother, of course."

Harabi was almost gone, when Lo'gan caught his arm. He never thought he would tell it to a Dawasir, but they were on a mission together and annoying or not, Harabi had worked well so far in assuring them a place in the palace. Harabi had earned his respect and he couldn't let him go on a mission without telling him.

"Go with strength and honor."

Harabi grinned at Lo'gan, who just raised an eyebrow. He understood what it meant for the Jabir, a virtual enemy, to offer his clan's blessing. His own clan had a similar code of honor among the horsemen warriors and if Lo'gan offered his, Harabi figured he could too. Pounding his chest with a closed fist he declared.

"Loyalty to family above all."

Having revealed a bit of themselves to the other, the Bedouin warriors took an awkward moment to reflect on the uniqueness of the situation they found themselves working together in and nodding in firm agreement, went their separate ways. Taking a sip of his wine, Harabi turned and meandered to the nearest group of belly dancers on the far side of the room. Praying they wouldn't get recognized or detained, Lo'gan headed in the opposite direction.

Walking slowly to catch all the faces he passed, Lo'gan yanked at his high collar again and searched the crowds for opportunity and something else. Little did he know, that the scribe they had stolen the marker from at the city gates had already spotted them from where he was standing by the palace entrance. He was in charge of counting guests, but having been away from his post at the particular time Lo'gan and Harabi crossed it, he had only recognized them when they were announced to the room.

Running to inform the palace regent, he pointed out the two Bedouins to the authorities. The regent in exchange notified the captain of the guards, who set out to quietly reposition his men to watch the intruders carefully. They did not want to make a scene at the celebration before the guests, so they were waiting, offering Lo'gan and Harabi the chance to make the first move, so that they could be arrested and eliminated without anyone noticing.

---

Mari pressed her face against the golden bars of her cage dolefully and watched as the grand room gradually filled with guests. For close to four hours, she had hung in a corner as an oddity to be gawked at. The other three corners of the grand room had similar cages. Across the way, there was a small tiger pacing in boredom in a bigger cage, to her right there was an incredibly colorful bird, and to her left, a furry brown animal with a long tale that did nothing but howl and shake his cage. Under normal circumstances, Mari would be fascinated with the exotic animals, but she was in no mood to do so now.

Ignoring the clatter the long tailed one was created, Mari scanned the crowd once more, but that only brought more discomfort as she had to witness the curious staring of strangers. Giving up on trying to find a friendly face, Mari sighed and decided to pick at her chains. Her wrists were raw from the rubbing, but she tried anyway, even using an earring to try and work the lock. She had tried that off and on for hours and accidentally letting her hand slip so that the earring scratched her across her left palm, Mari let out a frustrated groan and sucked at the scratch that was bleeding faintly. It was then that Mari noticed how quiet the great room was. Looking up to see what would cause over three hundred people to simultaneously gasp and whisper, Mari looked to the entrance.

To her dismay, it was only another pair of wealthy guests, but looking closer, Mari realized they were different. They were still a ways off, but she could definitely see something about them that made everyone else pause and stare. One was tall and lanky, maybe a little shifty, but certainly possessing the requisite arrogance everyone else carried. The other was slightly shorter, but very dangerous looking with a quiet demeanor and a wide, muscled build. It occurred to Mari that they were not really nobility. She could tell by their musculature. That was something that was brought on by work, and every other man in the room was round and heavy with easy living.

Intrigued, Mari watched intensely as they walked into the crowd and shared a few words. Then she saw it. The muscular one took a glass of wine from a servant's tray and when his headpiece shifted in front of his shoulders with the movement, he flipped it back. Eyes wide, Mari shimmied to the front of her cage to get a better look, making it swing slightly where it was suspended. Of all the men in the palace, they were the only ones that had on the flat headcloths worn by desert dwellers. Plus, their robes were long and dark and they were tanned from exposure to the sun. Even dressed as well as the other guests, Mari knew with certainty that they were more like Battam and his people. She had spent enough weeks watching that clan to know. The muscular one even stood like them, with hands clasped behind his back and feet apart, a position that was perfect to brace against the desert winds when they kicked up.

Excited over her discovery, Mari followed their movements carefully; oblivious to the fact that she was not the only one looking at them from afar. The kindest people she had met in Arabia were the desert dwellers. Battam's people even refused to keep her in chains and if anyone might help her, maybe these two strangers would. Hoping they would move closer to her side of the room, Mari practically jumped when they separated. She slipped off one of the gold bands around her ankles and held it tightly in her white knuckled hand and waited.

For a minute the tall one seemed to be approaching her, but spotting the dancing girls on the other side of the room, quickly made a detour in that direction. Mari's heart sank, because she certainly could not be heard over the crowd's racket if she called to him. Her only hope now rested with the big one and unsure if he was someone that she could trust, Mari watched with a pounding heart as he walked his way over to her. Unlike everyone else and even his partner, he stood alone and apart from the crowd. He was now within her reach and still debating whether or not to draw his attention, Mari squeezed her arm as far as it would go through the cage bars and looking to see that no guards were looking at her, hoped for the best.

Holding the gold band like a plate, she flicked her wrist and let it go, watching without breathing as it sailed and spun in the brightly lit hall down to the marble floor. It did not hit its target like she wanted it too, but fell instead just a few feet to his right with a clang she could not hear. A few guests in the area looked up, but quickly went back to their talking. The quiet man in black had no one to talk to and staring at it for a second, bent down, picked up the gold band, and turned slowly to see where it had come from.

Mari felt faint with fear as she watched him slowly turn. She wasn't sure what to expect from the brooding man in black, but his eyes immediately locked onto hers and did not let go. They widened a little and his mouth opened as if in shock. Mari immediately felt her heart sink. It was the same reaction that everyone else had of her and eyes watering slightly, she tightened her grip on the bars and looked down in shame. But the man continued to stare. She felt his gaze penetrate her and unable to resist, Mari looked up again, amazed at the heated intensity in his eyes.

Her hands gradually released the cage bars and she crossed them slowly over her nearly naked form in embarrassment. He was frightening and Mari wondered if she had miscalculated who an ally might be. But she had to try. Glancing past him to see if the guards had seen her trick, Mari decided to put it all on the line and beg. She mouthed the words `please help me' at him and not able to hold back her desperate tears, wiped at her face. She saw something in the strange man change at that and before she could surmise what it was, he tossed the goblet that was in his hand, spun around and vanished under the walkway surrounding the perimeter of the great room.

Mari tried to see where he had disappeared to, even purposefully jostling her cage a little, but he was gone, leaving her confused and hopeless once more. Sighing mournfully, Mari wiped her face and wondered what was next. All the noise in the room had stopped once again and the music announced something big. A squadron of guards had appeared out of nowhere and the members of the royal court was emerging one at a time. What she had dreaded all day was finally happening. The Sultan had arrived.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan watched with impatience as Harabi crossed the room to him, his whole body humming with the knowledge that she was near. The Sultan would be making his presence known soon and the guards were repositioning themselves, so that it was the perfect distraction for he and Harabi to catch him before he came out. Unfortunately, Lo'gan's objective had changed.

He was quietly assessing the best way to sneak past the guards when fate dropped a bracelet by his feet. At first he didn't know what to make of it, but turning he found what he had been aching for ever since he could smell the salt of the sea in the desert winds. It was his destiny, his dream, his woman.

She was swathed like a concubine and hanging in a cage like a featured gift, as beautiful and haunting as he imagined her. At first, he thought it was a dream, or surely a hallucination of some sort, but their was something different this time. He bore right into her eyes, desperately trying to read her like he did every night before she vanished. Lost in the watery green depths, he saw she was in pain. In his dream she was never in pain, sad sometimes, happy and shy mostly, but never in pain.

When tears rolled down her pale cheeks and she cast her eyes down in embarrassment to try and cover herself, his chest constricted in realization. She was a prisoner and just as he was about to ask why, she mouthed something to him. He didn't understand it, but his heart twisted in anger. She was pleading for help. His gaze moved down to her hands, which were chained and holding her bars tightly. She was property; a slave and that could not do. She belonged in his arms and not in chains.

Suppressing his boiling anger as best he could, Lo'gan swung into action. Taking advantage of the fanfare everyone was making over the Sultan's entrance, Lo'gan slipped through the security gap into one of the open corridors leading from the great room. Harabi saw him sneak off without him and hurried his pace as he crossed the room so that they were side by side in a matter of seconds. It was a good chance to catch the Sultan waiting in the wings, but something told Harabi that Lo'gan was no longer thinking straight. The Jabir pulled him behind a column just as he reached him.

"The plan's changed. Hurry and go around the back to catch him, I'll watch carefully for trouble and meet you with the horses when…"

"'W-wait, you're not coming? What's so important that you'd leave……"

Harabi put a hand up when he realized what Lo'gan was saying, but his words were cut short.

"Intruders! Stop them!!"

Turning to look back in the direction of the great room they had just left, Lo'gan grumbled when he saw over two dozen blue robed guards running out to meet them. The most decorated one unsheathed his sword and pointed right at them. Lo'gan yanked Harabi back and not needing much encouragement, Harabi scampered to follow him in a mad dash down the carpeted palace corridors.

"Where did they come from?"

---

Lo'gan growled as he took out his Khanjar, occasionally looking behind him.

"It doesn't matter, now! They must have been waiting for us to make a move!"

Cursing his carelessness, Lo'gan racked his brains for a way out as the men yelled behind them. He knew the way to the girl was a few levels up, but they were being chased in an opposite direction and he could not fight them all off and get to her at the same time. Hearing the men behind him get closer, Lo'gan grabbed at Harabi.

"We have to go out into the hall again."

Harabi looked over with an incredulous look.

"Go back?"

"Yes! It's the only way!"

Looking back to the men chasing them, Harabi took out his Khanjar as well and tried to pump his legs faster to keep up with Lo'gan.

"We have to find a corridor heading left!"

Lo'gan nodded and pointed to an upcoming intersection. Pushing a servant that stepped out of a room out of the way, he jumped over the food trays, almost tripping in the process.

"Up ahead!"

Harabi nodded and they both turned the corner. Running just a little more, they skidded to a stop when they came across a procession line of the Sultan's advisors still entering the great hall from the curtained stage. They all recoiled at the sight of Lo'gan and Harabi, thinking an assassination was underway and moved away quickly. The guards chasing them cursed and threatened down the corridor, but Lo'gan had already seen a way out. Spotting the entrance he was looking for, he called to Harabi and burst through the curtained stage with his L shaped blade ready in his hands.

"Over here!!"

Harabi followed and was right behind Lo'gan when he realized where they were headed. Sweating and panting, he ground his run to a halt and gulped as he looked around. All three hundred guests gaped at their appearance and even the Sultan himself, who had been speaking to his constituents about renewed prosperity, paused and swung around to see them. The guards at his side and the queen herself stood to their feet at the spectacle of the two Bedouin warriors. For the first time in his life, Harabi was at a loss for words. But ironically enough, Lo'gan had plenty. Glancing up to see Mari swinging in her cage, across the grand room, he stepped forward and addressed the crowd without taking his eyes off of her. Behind the curtain, he heard the guards that were chasing them skid to a stop also, but Lo'gan was sure they would not be touched in front of the guests. His steady voice rung clearly out over the sudden silence.

"My name is Lo'gan al Jabir and I seek council with Sultan Nasir on behalf of the desert clans."

A murmur swept over the crowd at the mention of the clans. Everyone understood their importance to the economy but they were seldom regarded with anything more than fear for their mysterious ways. The Sultan gripped his throne tighter and threw a deadly glare at the captain of his guard, who had snuck out onto the floor, the same way Lo'gan and Harabi had. Knowing his job was now the one of watcher, Harabi, watched the man's movements carefully by his place at Lo'gan's side. Mari stared incredulously at the unfolding drama, as she desperately tried to understand what was going on. Her initial fear of the dark Bedouin tripled at seeing him burst into the hall with his blade clenched tightly to his side, but like everyone else in the room, he held her captive with his unwavering voice and piercing eyes. And like before, he gazed right through her. She wanted to look away, but couldn't. Eventually, it was Lo'gan that looked away as the Sultan stepped forward somewhat apprehensively, knowing it mattered very much how he looked in front of his most influential citizens under such an unusual circumstance.

"I am Sultan Nasir and whatever your business is will be better dealt with in private."

Lo'gan snorted and took a step forward. Everyone tensed at the daring move, making the tension in the air more than palpable.

"What are you afraid of, sire? I came to speak to you as a man."

Lo'gan watched in satisfaction as the lavishly draped man tightened his fists when a murmur of laughter erupted from the crowd. He was threatening for sure, but the people were enjoying the show of him, a desert dweller, speaking up to the Sultan with as much courtesy as a commoner. Lo'gan could definitely use that to his advantage. Harabi chuckled with the masses, but it wasn't lost on him how the blue turbaned guards were slowly appearing at the separate exits around the great room, essentially blocking all the possible ways out. Lo'gan raised an eyebrow, when it became clear the Sultan was still debating what to say.

"Well? Will you speak as a man?"

To everyone's surprise, it was Queen Zainab that stepped forward, her expression livid and her voice dripping with caustic anger.

"Of course he will, you disrespectful animal!"

Seeing the hated woman emerge for the first time, Mari snorted and moved even closer to the bars, trying hard to decipher what was being said. To the Sultan's growing annoyance, the entire audience smirked at his mother's outrage. Lo'gan knew right there and then that Nasir was nothing but a puppet to his mother, to be played and spoken for since he was too stupid to do it himself.

"Shall I address the lady then in your place, sire?"

This time the congregation burst into open laughter and even Lo'gan cracked a crooked smile. Mari stared at him in amazement that he could hold everyone so rapt in his every word.

"I am the Sultan, so you speak to me!!"

Lo'gan continued smirking at the Sultan's attempt to regain control and switched his Khanjar over to his left hand in a frighteningly fast move, bringing the audience to an even higher level of anticipation.

"Very well then, your highness. As you hopefully know there are over five hundred clans that traverse the northern deserts. Each is of a family that has lived and died in the desert for generations."

The Sultan looked nervously over his subjects and stammered an agreement. The queen mother sat back down in her throne by his, digging her fingernails deep into the cushion of her seat. No one noticed except for Mari, who smiled in satisfaction from her cage across the room.

"We all know that."

Lo'gan grinned and continued, knowing everyone in the room was hanging onto every word he said, and for once not really caring that he was the center of attention.

"Then you also know that we are the true lifeblood of Arabia, crossing the trade routes to the great north and bringing everything of sustenance to the city states."

Harabi huffed from where he watched the guards behind him and Lo'gan. He was not sure how, but Lo'gan had somehow managed to make the Sultan look like a blathering idiot. He could actually see the guests mulling over his last statement. It had probably never crossed their minds before.

"We all know that trade is important. What is your point? Are you trying to weasel your way out of paying tariffs?"

All heads turned to look at Lo'gan for the response.

"No sire, we have always paid tariffs and will continue to do so, but only if they are fair."

All the heads turned again and watched as the Sultan started turning red in growing anger.

"Are you threatening me, desert dweller?"

"No. It is you that have threatened us," Lo'gan turned to the crowd and continued. "by placing markers at our oasis that threaten to destroy our lifewater wells if we do not comply with a 30% increase and a penalty of death if it is refused."

With more than a challenging glare, Lo'gan turned to face Nasir again, trying hard not to look high in the opposite corner for fear of losing himself in green eyes that would make him forget everything he had to say. When the crowd simmered down from their hushed whispering and gasps of shock, he continued.

"Do you deny this, sire?"

The Sultan looked over at his line of advisors angrily and then at his mother, who offered no help as she herself stared down his challenger with murder in her eyes.

"You cannot begin to understand. My advisors……"

"Run your kingdom?"

Not able to keep silent anymore, the old queen rose to her feet in her son's defense. Mari recoiled back in her cage, absently touching the bruise on her cheek that she had gotten from her.

"My son is the Sultan and no one but he runs his kingdom!"

Lo'gan actually smiled at her, not considering her a threat whatsoever.

"That is not what it seems like to me, madam."

That got a chuckle from the audience and the old queen slammed her cane down to silence them. The room stared at her in equal parts fear of her legendary temper and amusement at seeing that indeed, the desert dweller was right and actually brave enough to say what everyone else thought. But she was not silenced easily and continued her orders.

"If you have come here to try and repeal that decree, you are mistaken! The law is the law and you cannot disturb the celebration in this house with your brute ways. You are a trespasser and will pay with your life for this crime!"

Lo'gan watched as a murmur of protest washed over the crowd. The queen snapped her cold gaze at the assemblage as they questioned her ruling. Harabi and Mari looked at Lo'gan with worry, but the guests did not stay silent. A few voices could be heard from the crowd saying that the two men should be let go. Lo'gan looked over at her with a dangerous gleam in his eye.

"Your subjects think you unfair, sire."

The audience got even louder at Lo'gan's nerve to call the queen `sire' and the chanting of `let them go' grew stronger. In a near state of rage, the Sultan spoke out again to the crowd, eager to crush the dissention that had turned his birthday celebration into a question of his power.

"Enough!!!"

Everyone turned to look at the Sultan's outburst. He was known for his generous, laid back approach to everything, but the anger that flashed in his eyes now, belied everything they knew of him. Mari had seen Aerius change in a similar way. One minute he was fine, the next minute he was dangerous and raving, unable to control his anger and willing to hurt anything in his way. She looked at Lo'gan, fearing for the dark stranger, but he stood even taller, with his blade still ready. She wished for the hundredth time that she understood fully what was being said, but she had an idea it was about the pay that Bassam had to give at the city gates. She recognized the word tariff, just as she recognized the word desert. Nasir looked over his people, trying to determine the quickest way to defuse the situation.

"They will not be punished and I will even let them go unharmed, if……"

Lo'gan snorted and wondered what was next. He knew whatever the Sultan would promise would be a lie. He had seen enough of him to know that with certainty. The Sultan would send guards after them right away and never repeal his tariff. His mission would have to be met another way, but for now all Lo'gan cared about was getting Harabi and his girl out of there alive.

"If what, sire?"

The Sultan thought over his possibilities. The crowd stopped chanting and looked at him expectantly. In just a few minutes, he thought dismally, the stranger had his most loyal subjects questioning his rule. He would have to make him pay and pay for all to see. He spotted his captain of the guard being eyed carefully by the desert dweller's companion and an idea occurred to him. One that would prove his authority without a doubt and still make him look charitable before everyone.

"If you can defeat my captain of the guard in hand to hand combat, if you can do that, then you and your companion can leave unharmed to tell your clans that I will cut the tariff down to 10% again."

Everyone's jaw dropped. Harabi watched in dread as Lo'gan quickly agreed.

"I concur and have only one more request."

Everyone collectively held their breath to hear what the request was. Harabi just stared at the captain, who was taller than even he was and built like a wall. The man had the audacity to smile gleefully at the prospects of fighting, making his large and thick mustache twitch. Harabi knew that Lo'gan was a talented fighter, but too much rested on just one fight.

"Name it, desert dweller. I am in a most generous mood."

Lo'gan smiled slowly and took his time to respond.

"If I win, I request that I take………her."

Mari gasped as every last pair of eyes suddenly whipped around to stare at her with a combination of shock and excitement. She had no idea what the dark man had just said but when he pointed to her, her heartbeat thumped madly and she felt faint. She had thought he had forgotten about her, but he obviously hadn't. Not knowing what to make of anything, Mari shrank back in her tiny, confined space. She crossed her arms around herself timidly again timidly and could only stare back at Lo'gan's dark eyes. They seemed to pierce right through her and she did not know what to do with herself. That brought a tiny smile to Lo'gan's face. Something stirred in his chest for her and lost in desire, Lo'gan almost did not hear the Sultan's answer. It was clenched, low, and full of hate. It silenced the startled crowd instantly and they all turned to face him again.

"You make take her, but only if you win."

Lo'gan tore his gaze from the green clad figure in the distance with considerable effort and looked back at his nemesis.

"Swear to it."

The Sultan ground his teeth together, but looking at the congregation of expecting faces, complied. He made up his mind right there, that Lo'gan would die slowly. He might even watch. The audacity of his challenge would seal his fate regardless of the fight's outcome.

"I swear to it."

The crowd let out a collective gasp and without taking his eyes off of Lo'gan, the Sultan snapped his fingers, prompting a flurry of activity. A line of guards appeared at the stage and headed towards the crowd, cutting a line through them. Mari watched in utter confusion until it became clear that the stage was being set for a fight. The mass of people parted and the blue turbaned guards spread out to form a circle. At the center of the circle stood the guard that gave orders to the others. He made a grand spectacle of taking off his shirt and removing his saber, handing it to another guard to hold. As a whole, the palace guards were impressive physical specimens, but this one was a monster. Mari's eyes widened at the sight of his enormous frame and chewing on her nails nervously, wondered where the desert dwellers went.

Praying that they were not the ones that were going to fight the enormous brute, Mari quickly scanned the room for them. Watching them walk to a corner, Mari felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach, when the dark one began disrobing as well. They seemed to be arguing, but the crowd was shifting noisily to accommodate the empty ring at the center and prevented her from getting a clear view of events. Eventually, they began walking through the crowd to the center of the ring and the buzz of excitement grew exponentially as the mass parted to let him through.

Not sure what to make of anything, Mari watched in trepidation as the dark Bedouin broke through the crowd in nothing but his wrap pants and the sash that held them up. Barefoot he was even shorter compared to his opponent, but he was certainly not to be underestimated. Mari ran her gaze down his tanned, chiseled body, never having imagined that he could be that powerful under his flowing robes. The guard was saying things to him but he stood silent as he removed his headcloth and handed it to his friend. His black, straight hair spilled over his broad shoulders and flexing his hands open and close, he went to the center of the cleared space, slowly and deliberately.

It occurred to Mari that this was who he really was. A fighter. She had been around them all her youth in Battavia and all great warriors shared that intense look of calculated fury. At first she was worried for him, the guard being so much bigger, but his calm movements were precise and carried a disciplined power all to themselves. He would win. Mari knew this with certainty. As the crowd's cheering grew to a fever pitch and the Sultan rose to say some words, Mari prayed for him. It was the same prayer that she offered her father and uncle whenever they left for war and the same thing she said to herself every night before falling asleep to assure herself the strength to go on.

["Spirits of air, earth and water keep you safe in your struggles, dark Bedoiun, so that you can someday return to the love of your family."]

As if sensing her words, Lo'gan looked up to see Mari, his gaze as intense and penetrating as ever. For the first time since seeing him Mari wasn't quite so afraid. She managed a shy smile and a small wave of acknowledgement. She saw his eyes light up at that and blushing slightly at his regard, leaned her forehead against the bars to watch him carefully. Eventually, he looked away as a drum was sounded and the fight Mari had no idea was for claim to her life, began.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Despite the fact that he was seconds away from fighting someone twice his size, Lo'gan watched Mari fidget from were she sat above the crowd with something akin to cheerfulness. Usually before a fight this up close and personal, Lo'gan tried to concentrate on studying his challenger, gathering as much information from his movements as possible beforehand, except he was too preoccupied this time.

Smiling coyly, Mari had just raised her hand to wave at him. They were very small gestures on their own, but to Lo'gan they meant the world. He felt an unexplainable connection to the girl in the cage and his only hope was that she felt it too. Feeling his own lips curl into a slight semblance of a smile in response, Lo'gan watched her try not to look directly at him, while ignoring his preening opponent completely. His body still buzzed with adrenaline, but it was for the girl in green and not the enormous man cursing at him. It was only when the captain of the guard bowed at the Sultan that Lo'gan snapped out of his appreciation of how nicely Mari's pale skin flushed and tuned into what was being said.

"…and whoever is left standing will be the victor…"

Looking to see that his opponent was still bowing, Lo'gan opted to ignore the Sultan's grandstanding completely and address the only people that mattered to him. Catching Harabi's worried face in the crowd, Lo'gan tapped his bare chest twice with his closed fist like the Dawasir custom dictated and mouthed the words, `strength and honor' to him. Harabi's face lightened considerably in response. Casting one last glance at Mari's direction, Lo'gan did the same motion to her and repeated his words. That earned him another shy smile and knowing he had to do his best for her, Lo'gan then finally turned to face the captain, just as the Sultan concluded with a simple command.

"Begin!"

The Sultan's words were still echoing in the cavernous, dome topped hall when Lo'gan immediately lunged forward to jab at the captain's mouth. Neither he nor anyone else watching had anticipated such a frighteningly fast move and the crowd roared and cheered as it became clear that Lo'gan would most definitely be a worthy opponent and this would be a most interesting fight. Immediately backing into a safe zone, Lo'gan watched with a satisfied smirk as the huge man staggered back in pain and tried to regroup himself.

The captain stopped his boasting straight away and stepped forward with fists ready. Knowing he was eager to get in a hit of his own to save face, Lo'gan lowered his fists for a half second to bait him. The captain reacted exactly like Lo'gan expected and went for the opening. He lunged forward with a fist aimed to Lo'gan's face, but Lo'gan quickly ducked to the other side and delivered one to the captain's side instead. The giant man tucked his elbow into his ribs in pain and squeezed his eyes shut for a split second. Lo'gan knew he could get in another blow close up and tucked in low to bring his left fist up on the captain's chin with an upper cut. The punch was devastating and the captain's head snapped back as he teetered backwards. The crowd moved to give them space, reshaping the ring as needed. Knowing exactly when to withdraw from an inside attack, Lo'gan leaped back as clumsy fists reached out for him.

The crowd cheered in a near frenzy and the Sultan looked at his mother glumly. There had been no doubt in his mind that Lo'gan would not defeat his best fighter, but in less than a minute, the smaller man had delivered three crushing blows, while the captain had landed none. Disappointed at the turn of events, Queen Zainab turned her gaze upwards to Mari. She didn't know how, but she was sure the girl was in league with the desert dweller. Remembering how Mari spoke to her earlier that day, the old queen gripped her cane tightly and making sure no one noticed, quietly slipped away.

Mari meanwhile, marveled in wide-eyed awe at Lo'gan's ability to run circles around the captain. With few blows and well thought out movements, he was quick and very effective, making each strike an important one. Gripping her cage bars tightly, Mari thought back to her first impression of the dark Bedouin. She knew instinctively that Lo'gan was a fighter and she had not been mistaken.

The captain on his part, was already seeing double. He had yet to touch his adversary and knew that if he didn't soon, it would all be over. Casting a darting glance at the Sultan's disappointed face and hearing the crowd chanting `Jabir', he decided to change his technique and wait until Lo'gan came to him. Wiping the trickle of blood from his busted lip off his chin, the captain circled slowly, knowing only that he had to win or suffer badly at the hands of the queen.

Lo'gan, however, quickly saw the captain's plan and not having any problem with being on the offensive came in close once again. Steadying his fists tight to his body, Lo'gan crouched his frame slightly and made jabbing motions to the captain's face. None were supposed to connect, but they did force the larger man to raise his fists to his face in defense. Not wasting an open opportunity, Lo'gan drove his fist into the captain's unprotected stomach and feeling him folding over, offered one more uppercut to the chin. The captain howled in pain and swung widely as he staggered back. Still having his hands extended, he did finally manage to catch Lo'gan in the left cheek with his massive fist. The crowd gasped and the Sultan stood up from his throne, but Lo'gan just grinned as he shook off the punch.

Regrouping, Lo'gan kept on his assault, accepting the occasional blow in exchange of keeping the captain going backwards. When they finally reached the banquet tables, the desperate captain realized he had no place left to run to and opted for an all out charge. With a scream, the captain rammed into Lo'gan, who instead of bracing or evading, let himself get slammed to the ground under his weight.

Everyone winced and smiling prematurely, the captain pinned Lo'gan's throat with one hand and lifted the other to deck him, but found himself unable to when two powerful calves wrapped around his neck. Lo'gan squeezed with all he had while the captain let go of his throat and clawed at him to be released. Turning a bright red after a few moments, Lo'gan figured he had had enough and slammed his fist into the captain's face. The guard fell back and was now completely laid out and panting for breath on the floor. Righting himself to loud cheering, Lo'gan looked down at his defeated opponent and started to walk away as the crowd exploded in noise. Mari lost sight of him in the crushing throng, but clapped in excitement at Lo'gan's triumph from her place in the corner. Even the animal across from her with the long tail was clapping and Mari temporarily forgot her dire situation as she celebrated the Bedouin's victory over the queen's seemingly indestructible guard.

Lo'gan on the other hand was simply trying to get through to Harabi and leave. He had no desire to stay and be celebrated, rather to claim his girl and leave. But the audience itself was pulsating with excitement and lost in the shuffle, Lo'gan could not hear Harabi's warning. In a move that no one anticipated, the defeated guard scrambled to his feet and withdrew a short, thick blade from his sash and lunged at Lo'gan. The goal was to plunge it deep into Lo'gan's back, but the Jabir warrior had seen everyone's surprised reaction and a flash of metal in his peripheral vision and somehow moved back just in time. The captain managed to scrape it across Lo'gan's right side nevertheless, and gritting his teeth, Lo'gan staggered back and cupped his bleeding wound. The cut itself was not very deep, but with his heartbeat accelerated and panting heavily, the gash did bleed through his fingers. Tightening his fists, Lo'gan snarled at the captain and debated his next move.

Shocked into absolute silence, the crowd looked from the ready Jabir to the captain still holding the blade. Had they been alone, he would have continued, but sensing the audible condemnation of the mob, the captain stood immobile. Mari looked anxiously back and forth between the two. For an infinitely long fifteen seconds, the only sound that could be heard from the hundreds of people in the giant hall was the heavy breathing of the two fighters at the center. It was Harabi who finally stepped forward first and pointed to the Sultan.

"He has broken the rules and forfeited the fight!"

Everyone gasped and turned to look at the other desert dweller. Not knowing what to do with himself, the Sultan looked to his side for guidance, but his mother was gone. On his feet already, he withered under the regard of so many and timidly sat back down again.

"The rules were that……that the winner……wins."

To everyone's even greater shock, Harabi chuckled. Lo'gan did not take his eyes off of the captain and the blade he still held tightly, trusting his partner to do what he did best.

"If I recall, sire, the rules were for an unarmed fight and if al Jabir won, then we walk away. Your `fighter' produced a weapon, so he is automatically the loser."

The Sultan simmered in growing anger, but Harabi did not let up his command of the crowd. They were the most powerful force in that hall and still their best way out alive.

"Am I right, worthy guests?"

The entire audience broke out into cheers at Harabi's logic and Lo'gan snorted as he tried to focus on what his opponent was doing instead of the stinging cut to his side.

"Sire, I think your guests agree with me."

The Sultan threw a panicked look at his captain of the guard and tried to pacify his guests by gesturing for them to quiet down.

"Please, please……we can settle this."

Growing bolder, Harabi squeezed past the ring of blue turbaned guards and walked to Lo'gan, who was still clutching his side and staring down his opponent in a surreal stalemate. He handed Lo'gan the ghutra they had bought from Miznih, so that he could press it onto his wound

"We have all seen the same fight and I think we can agree that Lo'gan al Jabir is the unquestionable winner!"

The crowd cheered again and giving Lo'gan an expectant look, Harabi raised his partner's free hand high above their heads. The audience grew even louder and chants of `free them' pervaded the room. Positive that the gesture meant he was still the winner, Mari breathed a long held sigh of relief for the dark Bedouin from her place by the ceiling dome. As if sensing her thoughts, Lo'gan glanced up at her direction and Mari felt herself grow transparent again. The noise and even the pain at his side faded as Lo'gan focused on the girl in the cage. He did not exactly anticipate the fight ending how it did, but he knew she would be his, and in a short time, his dream would be realized. Lo'gan continued to look at Mari in a near vacuum of his senses, until Harabi pulled him out of it with a tug towards the Sultan.

"So what do you say, sire? Can all these noble guests be wrong?"

Harabi flashed his wide smile and the crowd cheered and clapped in approval. The Sultan bore into Harabi and Lo'gan with sheer hatred written across his features as his loyal subjects proved to be not so loyal. It was only then that it occurred to Lo'gan that he had lost track of the captain. Lo'gan looked around frantically to locate him and when he spotted him in the exit that he and Harabi had been chased down on, his heart stopped. Too wrapped up in talking circles around the Sultan or looking at Mari, neither Harabi nor Lo'gan had noticed the captain sneak back to his men.

Practically growling in rage that he had snuck away without being noticed, Lo'gan locked eyes with the enormous man from across the room. Over the years, he had made many enemies and Lo'gan was not afraid of any, but seeing the captain slowly wipe his blood off his short blade and tuck it back into his sash while yelling orders at his men alarmed him. Swinging in her cage, his girl was an easy target and there was no doubt in his mind that the Sultan had ordered the captain to be ready outside for them when they left. The fact that she was already a slave, dressed like a concubine troubled him beyond words, and Lo'gan did not even want to think what would happen to her if they were caught. Khalaf had taught Lo'gan that there was always a way out of anything. His fighting for her had been a major impulse on his part and now he had to find a way to take her and Harabi quickly out of Ma'in and still keep them safe from those that wanted to get to him. Wrenching his hand from Harabi, Lo'gan grabbed his Khanjar from him, sheathed it on his sash and spoke out again. The crowd immediately silenced to hear the champion's words.

"Enough debate!"

Everybody turned to look at Mari again and whispered to themselves. Having thought everyone had forgotten her; Mari blanched and faintly wondered what the Bedouin would possibly have to say about her. Without taking his eyes off the captain, Lo'gan continued.

"You have given your word to reduce the burden on my people, let us go unharmed and give me the girl. Is your word good or not?"

The Sultan gritted his teeth and spit out his agreement. The fact that his mother was gone attested to the fact that she was as desperate to see the desert dwellers dead as he was. He was sure she was already taking care of things as they spoke. They might walk away now, but the desert dwellers were already living on borrowed time. Managing his most diplomatic smile, the Sultan gave what he hoped was the final word on the matter.

"Yes, Lo'gan al Jabir and Harabi al Dawasir, you may take the girl and go inform your people that their righteous Sultan has heard their plea. Go in peace and let our celebration continue. We still have much entertainment and feasting for our honored guests."

Lo'gan snorted and turned from the Sultan's presence before he even finished. Harabi followed and the crowd cheered as the two strangers walked away, essentially drowning out the last things the Sultan was saying. Mari blinked in confusion, as everything seemed suddenly to jump back to how they were earlier. The guests formed animated clusters as they finally got their wish and the musicians, servants and performers descended on the crowd once again to resume their work as the makeshift ring at the center of the room dissolved. Baffled by the change of events, Mari searched out the quickly moving Bedouins with her gaze when a noise from behind her caught her attention. She look fixedly at the curtained balcony the cage came from, but seeing nothing, turned again to follow the Bedouins, only they were already gone. Mari searched the crowd desperately, wondering how the two, one being a shirtless man, could be lost in a shuffle so quickly, when a sudden lurch forward caused her to bang her head against the cage bars.

Turning around in wide-eyed alarm, Mari watched as the ropes that kept her cage suspended in place, started moving. Quickly turning to see if any of the other cages were too, Mari felt dread at knowing that the fight delay was over and that she was finally going to meet the Sultan personally. Clutching tightly at the bars as the gilded contraption pitched forward and back without anyone noticing, she decided to scream in hopes that the Bedouin warriors were still around and that they might hear her.

["Please, someone, anyone, please help me!! Please, someone!!"]

Nothing. To Mari's amazement, not one person heard her rattling. Turning and seeing that she was almost to the balcony and that no one could hear her screaming, Mari opted for what worked once before. Wrenching two golden cuffs off her unbound ankles, Mari flung them to the great room below. One landed by a group of people too wrapped up in discussing the mysterious desert dwellers to notice it, the other in a giant silver bowl of creamy butter. Looking back to see that she was just feet away from the balcony ledge, Mari continued to scream and shake her cage in it's place, preferring that the ropes snap and she land below than have to face her sadistic keepers once again.

["Please!! Someone, help!! Help me!!"]

With a drag of fabric, the gilded cage eventually brushed past the heavy curtains of the balcony entrance and Mari landed with a thud on the floor of the tiny room she was first led into. Her screams died in her throat as she was met with Queen Zainab's menacing expression. The curtained balcony was dark compared to the grand hall outside, but Mari could make out her hard features anywhere. With a sharp bark of an order, the old queen dispatched two guards to step forward and unlatch the cage door. Mari stared at the vindictiveness in the old woman's eyes and felt her own resentment rise in hers. Her promise of the previous night to escape or die trying resurfaced in her mind and she snapped out of her shock. If they were going to take her, she would not make it easy on them.

["Let me go, thief!"]

Mari shook the cage, making it hard for the guards to do as they were told. She watched with satisfaction as the blue lady tightened her hold on her cane and ordered the remaining two guards to hold the cage still while the first two worked the lock. They eventually were able to and reached inside for Mari. Still screaming at the top of her voice and trying to bite at the hands grabbing her, Mari felt her legs give out when she was finally pulled from the contraption. Having been kneeling for an entire day, her knees buckled easily under her weight and she had to be held up. The old lady chuckled at seeing that and deciding whether or not she would break Mari's legs before or after she blinded her, did not see when Mari gathered enough saliva to spit in her face. The guards visibly recoiled at the daring move and the old queen stared at Mari with nothing but pure shock before her features twisted up again.

"You disgusting whore!!! I will kill you myself!!!"

Mari continued to buck and struggle at the hands of the guards and watched with satisfaction as the old woman turned ashen and clutched her cane tighter.

["You're not taking me! Let go!"]

Bracing herself for the inevitable blow, Mari bucked wildly and actually succeeded in bringing one guard to the floor with her as the old woman took aim. But having squeezing her eyes tight, she did get to see the look of utter shock on everyone's face as Lo'gan and Harabi burst through the heavy curtains of the balcony.

Knowing that the captain and a squad of men were waiting at the palace steps for them and that Mari was most likely going to be taken before they even reached her, Lo'gan and Harabi had opted for the more direct route and climbed up the hanging ropes from the grand hall itself. Lo'gan leaped over the metal railing, just as the old woman poised to strike Mari. Frozen in place at the unexpected ambush, neither Queen Zainab nor the guards were quick enough to prepare for what rushed them.

The next thing Mari felt was the second guard that was still holding her, go down as well. Opening her eyes to see nothing but alarm on the old queen's face as she held her cane unmoving over her head, Mari whirled around and gasped at the sight of her two rescuers. They moved in a blur around the guards, Khanjars quickly intercepting any saber that was swung at them.

Not able to stop the grin on her face, Mari turned triumphantly back to the old woman, who giving her a last venomous look, turned and retreated for the door. Mari could not let that happen and thankful that her ankles were unbound, scrambled to her feet and ran after her. She brought her arms over the queen, essentially trapping her in an embrace and swung her around. They slammed into the cage, still perched in the middle of the tiny room. Taking advantage of her superior strength, Mari shoved her in unceremoniously. Not to be underestimated, the older woman brought the cane she was still clutching down on Mari's left hand, fracturing two of her fingers.

Mari shrieked and Lo'gan looked away from his sword fight, earning him a nearly fatal swipe of a blade to his neck. Spurred on by Mari's scream, Lo'gan quickly launched his Khanjar at the guard engaging him. It penetrated the man's sternum with a sickening crack and withdrawing his short dagger, looked to see how best to handle the remaining two guards. But Mari did not take long in recovering from the blow. Clutching it before the queen brought it down on her again, Mari wrenched it out of Queen Zainab's hands and flung it to the side. Without any further preamble, she shoved the queen back into the tiny enclosure and swung the door shut. Hearing the lock click, the old woman screamed in indignation and satisfied that she was right where she needed to be, Mari was about to turn to help her rescuers when a gleam caught her eye. Dropping her jaw in surprise, Mari reached between the bars. The queen recoiled with a snarl and swiped at Mari's hand, but the cage was too small for her to weasel away. Stretching out a little more, Mari reached to the queen's arm and yanked off the cuff she had stolen from her the day before.

"Give it back, you insolent whore!"

Mari looked at the woman she knew was cursing her and grinned, unable to stop herself from childish gloating.

["Thief! You deserve to be in there!"]

Turning around, Mari bent over to take the queen's beloved brass cane and dispose of it once and for all, when she saw Harabi step over his unconscious opponent just a few feet away. Not knowing what to expect, Mari stood perfectly straight and blinked at him uncomprehendingly as the Dawasir looked her up and down, both forgetting the fact that Lo'gan was still clanging swords with the last remaining guard on the other side of the room. Still not fully processing what he was seeing, Harabi took a step closer to Mari wearing a goofy grin. He really hadn't thought it was possible, but there she was, a green-eyed girl. Feeling very exposed, Mari swallowed and was about to try communication when a sudden yank backwards took her breath away.

It was the dark one, still shirtless and having just fought three men, very sweaty. He had pulled her away from Harabi's regard and straight into his powerful grasp. Intimidated by Lo'gan's proximity, Mari took a small step away from him, not enough to get out of his hold, but enough so that their bodies weren't touching. She did it mostly out of a reaction to her attire, but instantly regretted doing so. His look was a mixture of hurt and confusion and it finally dawned on her that they were there for her. He had understood her plea and had come for her. Overwhelmed by the thought and not knowing how to correct her seemingly ungrateful gesture, Mari swallowed nervously and looking straight into the dark, serious eyes she had been following all evening, spoke out in a small voice.

["Thank you."]

If Lo'gan's eyes were intense from afar, they were a hundred times more so now. Caught up in their intensity, Mari did not hear Harabi chuckle at her strange sounding words or Queen Zainab snort in disgust at the awkward show of emotions. The old queen was positively livid, but at the mercy of the desert dwellers, she sunk back into her cage and wisely kept shut while she studied the three in their self-conscious silence. Still alert and in fight mode, Lo'gan heard them both, but didn't care as he searched his mind to decipher what Mari could have said. It hadn't really occurred to him that she would speak a whole other language, but her eyes said all they had to. They were wide and scared and a deep, haunting green that surpassed anything in his dreams. He leaned a tiny bit closer to her, wanting desperately to taste the breathtaking beauty like he practiced every night, but he couldn't very well do so now. The fear in her eyes was overwhelming and they were all in very real danger if they were found there. Ignoring the ache in his hands to touch her pale skin and the stirring in his groin to bury himself deep inside her, Lo'gan answered in a low and deliberate voice so that the other two in the room couldn't hear him above the noise of the party below.

"You're welcome."

Mari blinked at having gotten a response. Almost everyone had made efforts to talk to her the past few months, but no one really answered her back when she spoke. This was a first and she even understood what it had meant. The garbled words made sense, because they matched his expression so perfectly. An expression that held other things as well, one being the desire to kiss her. Mari had never been kissed before, not even by her betrothed, but she recognized Lo'gan's desire, strangely enough, because she had it herself. When he leaned closer to herself, she had almost leaned forward herself. Realizing that she was blushing, Mari looked down at Lo'gan's thick fingers still tightly clutching hers and wondered why the dark Bedouin would ever go through so much trouble for her.

Lo'gan smiled at Mari's coy way of avoiding his gaze. She was blushing again and this time he could clearly see how it tainted her cheeks and more interestingly, down her chest. Repressed his urge to touch the heat of her blush into her wispy clothing, Lo'gan looked away too and consciously made an effort to return back to the business of keeping them alive. Still not letting go of Mari, he motioned to Harabi with a look that warned him to stop looking so much at `his' girl and asked in intentionally gruff tone.

"Hand me your robe and go check if someone's coming."

The Dawasir shrugged off his outer robe and quickly complied with a quiet smirk on his face, pleased at finally having found something that rattled the obdurate Jabir. Lo'gan took the garment quickly and trying not to really notice what Mari was wearing, pulled her close and draped it over her shoulders. Mari's hands were still attached so that she couldn't put her arms in the sleeves, so Lo'gan silently turned her around and tied the drawstring at her neck. Mari stood still, pleased that he recognized that she needed to be covered, but stunned that his fingers moved so delicately to tie the robe in place. Looking down in embarrassment when Lo'gan's eyes flickered up to meet hers, Mari held her breath and ignored the warm feel of his on her forehead until he was done. Hovering over Mari an endless second after he was done, Lo'gan shook his head to rid it of his straying thoughts and moved to where Harabi was, still clutching Mari's hand tightly.

Mari on her part just scurried alongside him silently. She did not know what to expect from the desert dwellers, but anything was better than the cage and nothing was safer than the dark Bedouin. Remembering the queen, she turned and looked at her while Lo'gan and Harabi spoke in hushed tones. The old woman was silent, self-preservation taking priority over revenge, but her cold eyes easily gave away her intentions. She had assumed there was something between the slave and the desert dweller, and she was right, just not how she had imagined. Adding that bit of information to her plan of torturing and killing them, the queen smiled at Mari in an effort to rattle the girl's nerves. But Mari saw right through her and eased a hand to her recovered cuff on her upper arm. The queen's smirk vanished instantly and she angrily kicked the cage. More interested in how they were going to escape the palace than a crazy old witch, Mari looked back to her rescuers with a smug smile.

The two men were coming to some sort of plan that Mari wished she understood. Mari watched Lo'gan from the corner of her eye, wondering if the gash at his side hurt. Going through the dozen or so Bedouin words she knew, Mari was working to formulate a sentence to ask if he was all right, when the men suddenly broke apart. Lo'gan walked her to a side of the room where he placed a finger on his lips and made a motion for her to stay. Mari nodded to show she understood the order to stay quiet and watched with concern as Lo'gan went to join Harabi, who had started undressing the fallen guards. The Dawasir was trying to match up articles of clothing that were not stained with blood to make two complete outfits.

Suddenly understanding what the escape plan was, Mari snapped her gaze back to Lo'gan who was quickly unwinding his sash, all the while carefully avoiding the hasty bandage made from his headpiece for the slash that the captain had given him. Mari absently stared as the fabric peeled away to reveal dark skin pulled tight over defined muscles on his abdomen. Only when Lo'gan reached for the drawstring on his baggy pants and paused did Mari realize that she was watching him undress. Too embarrassed to see what his reaction was, Mari quickly turned her face to look at the wall, missing the smirk on Lo'gan's lips. He continued to watch her try and disappear into the curtained wall while he dressed in the blue robes. Absorbed with thoughts of Mari, Lo'gan almost didn't catch Harabi's words.

"They're almost here. I can hear them coming up the stairs. Let's go."

Pulling on the rest of his borrowed uniform, Lo'gan finished hiding his Khanjar under it and snapped back into the urgency of the situation. He ran to get Mari, catching the chain that connected her hands and again signaling her to be silent while leading her out to where Harabi was already waiting in the corridor. When Mari saw them start walking on either side of her, she understood what her role would be. Walking quickly with her head down to avert the gaze of the occasional servant, the three were almost to the end of the corridor when a scream rang out.

It was the queen and hearing her, the guards that were coming up the stairs to see where the desert dwellers had gone to, ran into the balcony to see what was happening. Knowing their cover was almost blown; Lo'gan, Mari, and Harabi hurried down the rest of the corridor and made a left into another room. Five seconds later, the captain of the guard ran out of where the queen was being let out of her cage in the direction of the two guards he saw with a prisoner just moments before. The chase was on again and feeling the throbbing of the black eye Lo'gan gave him, the captain quickly dispatched his men in several directions with commands that they capture and detain the intruders until he got to them.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Queen Zainab hurried to her chambers, distraught and furious at the revelation she just witnessed. Ordering all her servants out, she went to her bed to think. An overwhelming headache had consumed her and she needed to clear her mind. She could faintly hear the ruckus of the party down below and almost trembling in anger, wondered how a day that was supposed to be a celebration had turned out so badly.

Finding that her head hurt more when she was lying down, Zainab shuffled off it and tearing her trademark blue robes off, went to her window instead. Taking deep breaths of air, she worked at calming her nerves and cooling off. Zainab needed to think rationally and nothing would pan out if she didn't. In a matter of minutes she actually felt better. When there came a knock at the door, she was almost back to being in control.

"Enter."

The thin, hunched palace doctor walked in and cautiously approached the queen. He eyed the robes that were lying on the floor and bowing deeply, ventured a nervous question.

"A-are you decent, your highness?"

Zainab felt torn between laughing and throwing something at the old doctor. She settled on chuckling. The situation was just too dire for laughter.

"Have you forgotten the nights we spent rolling around like animals already? Sit down, old man, before I'm tempted to hurt you!"

The doctor nodded apologetically and quickly shuffled to a nearby cushion without looking up.

"I was told of your unfortunate treatment, are you feeling……"

"Shut up! I don't need coddling……I, I"

The doctor looked up, unsure if he had ever seen doubt in the old queen before. Perhaps she was hurt. But then her eyes changed and he realized that she wasn't. She was scared. Something he had seen maybe once or twice in the entire time he had known the tempestuous woman. This might actually be worse, he thought to himself.

"I take it you saw what happened in the grand hall?"

The doctor blinked and wondered what was the appropriate thing to say. Gossip was already running through the palace and by that night, no doubt, in the streets of Ma'in as well. It would be an embarrassing thing for the palace to deal with and something that they did not need now that the people were so unhappy. He secretly cheered for the desert dwellers that dared defy the ego driven Sultan, but he made sure no one saw him show anything but devotion to his queen. He almost felt bad for them in a way. Palace insiders like him knew right away that the queen would see to it that they never saw their beloved deserts again. As a matter of fact, they were probably dead already.

"Well??"

"Uh, yes, your highness. Most unfortunate. I am sure the captain will apprehend the intruders quickly and……"

Zainab rolled her eyes and tightened her lips.

"Those bastards will get away. Trust me, I know a fighter when I see one and that savage was no match for that imbecile of an oaf my son calls a captain."

The doctor blinked, not sure how to continue. This was a day of many firsts. He could not remember the last time the queen admitted that her opponent was stronger than her men. Then again, that was made very clear by the fight everyone had just witnessed.

"We'll catch them in the deserts, after they let their guard down and head back to their filthy people."

The queen smiled absentmindedly as she looked outside and the old doctor shuddered. He recognized that smile and it meant that whatever people she was talking about would soon be faced with a massive slaughter at the hands of her royal guard. Looking down at his curly shoes, the doctor nodded gravely. Sometimes the queen just wanted someone to measure ideas with and it was obvious she was thinking of many right now. He suddenly wished he could be somewhere else, but he knew better. Once the queen hashed out whatever ideas she had, he would go off and ignore his conscious and do nothing to stop her. It had slowly become his duty to turn the other cheek and do nothing. A few more minutes and it would be over. Just had to sit and nod in agreement a little while longer.

"I am sure he can be stopped there, your majesty. It will not be a problem for you. Umm, perhaps you would like to rejoin our guests……"

The queen slowly rose from where she was sitting by her window and walked to the doctor. The old man stopped talking and looked at her fearfully. She had a very far away look over her features and it was unsettling to say the least.

"There is something else. That savage is not just any desert dweller."

The queen finally reached the doctor and slowly lowered herself to the floor by the cushion he was sitting on. She rested her head right by his thigh and spoke in a softer tone. The doctor watched her in absolute shock, not sure what to do or what was expected. She hadn't been that close to touching him in years, and now there she was, obviously needing to be reassured or maybe even comforted.

"W-what do you mean, highness?"

Zainab smiled and took a long minute to answer the question.

"It's him. My brother's son."

The old doctor looked at the queen in absolute horror. Mouth agape, he stood up and walked away. Zainab put her head in her hands and looked at him with a strange amusement. The situation might be dire, but the old man was as comic as ever.

"I don't understand. What do you mean? It, it couldn't be. That was so long ago and……"

Not sure what else to make of it, the doctor crumbled down to the floor, deflated and close to tears. The queen watched him carefully, amused by his reaction but her headache returning once again.

"Don't be so dramatic. It was always a possibility with all those…… camel traders walking around the desert that at least one would see and rescue him. I can't say I'm very shocked. We always knew he could have made it."

The doctor looked up at the queen with heavy eyes. Zainab marveled at the fact that he looked ten years older than when he walked in. She snorted and questioned what she ever saw in him to begin with. Ah yes, no backbone. She could never resist a man she could break that easily. It was strange in a way, both of them speaking in hushed tones, while sitting on the floor, like a couple of kids conspiring to pull a prank. The desire to laugh wanted to overtake her again, but Zainab knew that if she did, it would all end in tears, and she could never, ever be that weak. She waited for the urge to pass, rubbing her temple slightly with two fingers.

"Are you certain? How could you be so sure?"

"Oh I'm very sure. The savage changed out of his clothes and into a guard's uniform for his escape right before my eyes. I saw it clear as day………… a crescent shaped birthmark on his left backside."

The doctor visibly recoiled at hearing the description, remembering how he first made that observation when he helped bring Lo'gan into the world and was only seconds old. He was so different then; young, ambitious, fearless. Looking down at his wrinkled hands, the old doctor wondered where that man had gone to. There was nothing left of him now. The doctor looked at the queen numbly, eyes slowly watering up. He knew she couldn't stand people crying, but he couldn't help it. The weight of their crimes was too great to revisit all at once. The doctor listened to her talk in an excited whisper, wanting to get up and run so that he wouldn't have to hear it, but too weak to actually do it.

"And if you look carefully, the little runt actually looks like his father. And he's got his mother's commonness. She was a camel trader too remember. He has that disrespectful air about him. A savage, through and through. Just like her. Exactly like her."

The old doctor watched as the queen absently rubbed her right thigh. She was no doubt remembering Lo'gan's mother's desperate attempt to stop Zainab from taking her son. The final move of a dying, bloodied woman to save the child she just pushed out into the world. It was something that he remembered often, particularly when he saw his queen struggle with her cane on her bad days. Zainab deserved it and he was often glad for the pain it caused her. He suspected that's why Zainab hated Lo'gan's mother so much. She was the only one that ever left her mark on the vain queen. In every step she took, Zainab had to be reminded of that beautiful girl, a true fighter like her son, refusing to die until Lo'gan had taken his first breath. Shaking his head to vanish the memory of the screaming and the blood, the doctor whimpered softly. The tears flowed freely now and he took a moment to recognize where he was. With great effort, he asked a question in a painfully cracking voice.

"What will you do then?"

Zainab turned so that she could see the doctor's face clearly. She always did love it when he cried. She hated crying in general, but watching the doctor was different and this particular topic never failed to make him cry. For years she debated whether or not to kill him, worried that he might spill their dark secret, but she soon realized that no, he never would. He was like one of the girls in her son's harem - born to be dominated by others. It was their lot in life and she was sure her good old doctor would be loyal as a dog until she put him out of his misery.

"Very simple, my dear. I will kill him. Him, that little green-eyed whore of his, his thief friend, his entire family. All of them. That was a stupid question."

The doctor looked up, pleading, stammering, and chilled to the bone at the response he got.

"B-but they travel extensively. How will you know where they are?"

"Well, obviously I'll go after as many clans as it takes. We don't need the desert dwellers as much as you think. With trade opening in Africa, they are expendable and I don't care if I have to kill them all to get to `him'."

The doctor watched in fear as the queen's features hardened again. Plotting always got her like this. She stood up and walked with a slight limp to her things, taking a bottle in her hand tightly, while searching for another robe to wear. The doctor absently wondered what had happened to her cane. She never went anywhere without it.

"That little interloper's son will pay. She tried to take what's mine and I eliminated her, just like I will eliminate this so called Lo'gan al Jabir. Even if it did take me over thirty years, I have found him again, you could say and he will not get away this time. He was lucky the first time, but that will not happen again."

"But it may not be him."

"Oh it is, trust me. I see her eyes in him and he looks just like my brother. But don't worry, old man, I have come too far to let it all go now. My son is the ruler of Arabia and it will stay that way! I'll never understand what possessed my brother to marry a commoner, but he paid and so did she. Just like this……this savage will. Nothing will take Arabia from my son and I will crush anybody to insure it!"

That said, Zainab flung the bottle she had in her hands and watched as it shattered on the far wall. Point made, she turned and walked back to the window seat to contemplate her next course of action. The old man could see the scheming in her eyes and knowing she was done talking for the day while she contemplated things, gradually stood and quietly walked out of the massive bedchamber, his mind heavy with all he had just learned. But in her insane logic, Zainab was right. Lo'gan did have his mother's intensity and his father's manner. Zainab might have meant it as an insult, but it was true. Lo'gan was a strange mix of desert dweller and royalty that made him stand out in any crowd. The doctor did not need to see the crescent mark to know. It was really him, the child he had tried to kill for Zainab only moments after being born.

Running quickly out of the room, the old doctor hobbled as fast as he could to his own bedchamber, desperate to forget everything that haunted him. Shutting his own room door just as his legs collapsed under him, the old doctor thought back to all the years he lived in torment over his decision to help his then lover to ascend to the throne. Lo'gan had grown without a mother and father because of Zainab and him and Zainab would destroy everything he had found since out of sheer spite. It would be simpler to just let Lo'gan go back into the deserts. He obviously didn't know who he really was and would not come back. But the queen was bloodthirsty and she would not let things lie as they were. It was not her way.

Cursing the cruel irony that made Lo'gan ever come back to Ma'in, the old doctor also sat to contemplate things. For hours, he cried bitter tears of regret for his unforgivable sins. He held his sharp instruments in his hands, wanting to pierce his heart with one, but too afraid to go through with it, settled on disrobing and adding a few lines to the hundreds that laced his body, where no one could see.

It was an old habit, not that many years in practice, but one that helped clarify things. The pain was exquisite, enough to burn, but not kill. His skills as a doctor told him exactly how deep to go, just enough to cross the layers of skin and fat, just enough to punish himself for everything he once did in the name of lust. Lust for a serpent that slithered around on a cane. A serpent that would now set to finish the task that they couldn't complete over thirty years ago. The ruthless task of eliminating an entire family. And for what? Power? For the rights to rule? No. He knew it was more.

The doctor had glimpsed into Zainab's twisted heart and had seen hatred. Hatred for a common woman her brother made queen above her. Hate for a love she saw between them that she herself would never understand. It was jealousy. Enough jealousy to make him do what she had wanted. Enough jealousy to destroy two people he knew were righteous. And now that jealousy had festered and hardened enough to kill many more. Entire clans to find just one man among them. The last trace of a legacy Zainab detested.

The doctor slapped a hand over his left pectoral, trying to hold in the blood slowly dribbling out. He was fading, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. He prayed this would be the one, the one time he wouldn't wake up to the same heavy guilt he had lived with for so long. But he knew it wouldn't be. It never was. He still had many years of torture left ahead of him.

Closing his eyes with a final shallow breath, the old doctor wondered. The gods had looked over Lo'gan once before, maybe they had plans for him again. That was the last conscious thought the doctor had before his head touched the cold marble floors.

He was instantly transported to another place and time, where a girl was fighting death itself for a chance to speak to her son. A son whose father was being murdered at that very same instant at the hands of his own sister.

The doctor saw his younger self, watching in awe as the girl defied logic to stay alive despite the dagger sticking obscenely out of her chest. When the child finally did come, her eyes glassed over and she smiled. Despite his orders, something in the young doctor turned. He held the writhing, screaming baby in his hands and watched the beautiful young girl slowly beckon with her bloodied hand. He took the baby to her, not bothering to even clean him up. She reached out and touched him and the baby immediately stilled. The doctor handed him over, both knowing what was to happen to him in just a few minutes. But thinking back, the doctor wondered if her words were the ones that saved Lo'gan's life. She was a fighter after all. Maybe the gods did have a sense of justice. Maybe they did occasionally makes things right.

The young doctor watched as mother and child regarded each other tiredly. Zainab walked in at that moment, hands still crimson with the Sultan's blood and even she had to stop and stare. The love that the mother and child radiated hypnotized them in place. Even in it's awfulness, the moment was perfect between the two. After that, everything went wrong, but for that instant, even Zainab's hatred was dwarfed by their love. With a fading voice, the dying woman murmured into her baby's wet hair, their blood intermingling for the first and final time.

"My love……my little Lo'gan……be strong and live long…… true ruler of Arabia."

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

"Stop in the name of the Sultan!!"

Resisting the urge to go back and finish what they had started, Lo'gan unsheathed his sword when he heard the captain's order to stop running and pulled Mari behind one of the many alabaster columns that divided the long palace corridors. They had initially tried to outrun the palace guards, but it was difficult when you didn't know where you were going and the palace was arranged in mazelike patterns. Eventually the corridors ran out and the three escapees were now at a dead end with nowhere to go.

Glancing at Harabi across the way, who was equally tensed with a stolen saber in his hands, Lo'gan asked him a silent question while the captain of the guard continued to threaten from only a short distance behind them. Having had a better look at the approaching men, the Dawasir held up his hand and opened it three times to indicate that fifteen men were with the captain. Lo'gan clenched his jaw and debated with himself which would be safer; a fight with an entire troop of sabered men now or a surrender until a better opportunity arose later. Feeling Mari's warm panting breath on his arm, however, Lo'gan knew neither was a good enough option. Looking down at her wide, scared eyes, Lo'gan offered a half smile he hoped was reassuring and ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration, before looking back to the advancing men. For now, distraction could buy them some time.

"Turn the other way and you'll live to see another season!"

Pausing in his instructions to his men on the best way to outflank the intruders, the captain blinked in surprise and quickly turned to look back at Lo'gan, huddling behind a pillar. For a brief second he was taken back to the humiliating fight they had just had. A flash of fear crossed his disproportionate features and he twitched his swollen eye.

"Bold words for a man on the run, desert rat! You have ten seconds to surrender! One……two……"

Lo'gan snorted and was about to reiterate with more baiting when Mari suddenly jumped to life next to him. Her slender fingers on his face distracted him for a second, but he quickly turned to see what she was pointing to excitedly. It was Harabi. He had miraculously found a way out. Granted, it was not the most warrior worthy way, but it would definitely suffice. Clutching at the hand that had touched his cheek and nodding at Harabi's thrilled expression, Lo'gan bellowed down the hall again to buy them some time.

"Perhaps next time! I hope you've grown a pair by then. For now, try and get some practice, I think your queen can teach you a thing or two!"

The captain ground his teeth together and ignoring a few sniggers from his men, continued his count.

"……four……five……six……."

Seeing that Harabi had finally pried open the grate that protected the linens chute with some of the many tools that lived up his wide sleeves, Lo'gan gave the hand he was still clutching an impulsive kiss and dashed across the hallway with Mari behind him. The captain's counting wavered at number nine as he suddenly realized what was happening. He screamed out an order to charge, but it was already too late.

Harabi was sliding down the shaft to the floors below and Lo'gan now stood at the opening in the wall with a flustered Mari watching his every move. On any other day plunging down a dark opening in a wall would have scared her, but at that very moment, Mari was more enthralled with the man that had just kissed her hand than anything else. Lost in the tingle that his lips on her skin ignited, Mari even failed to see the dagger thrown at her. Lo'gan however did see it coming and yanking her into his arms and out of the way in time. Swinging his leg over the edge of the opening, he kicked back and they tumbled down the dark marbled chute together. In a tangle of arms and legs, Lo'gan and Mari fell two floors straight down the darkened chute into a pile of fabric and sheets.

When they landed with a thud only seconds later, Mari was still holding on tightly to Lo'gan, her elbows and knees smarting from the hasty drop. Only when she realized there was a warm weight over her, did she open her eyes. What she found was Lo'gan's face hovering just an inch above hers. He watched intently as Mari blinked at him. Now that he had impulsively tasted her skin, he wanted more, so much more, but again, he couldn't. He could make out Harabi's voice and the guards practically at their heels. He settled for running his thumb gently over Mari's cheek and asking a question in a low voice.

"You okay?"

Mari's gaze flickered from Lo'gan's full lips to his dark eyes. Not sure what to make of either, she nodded nearly imperceptibly with an almost moan.

"Mmm-hmm."

Lo'gan let out a shaky breath and standing up before he lost what control he had left, helped Mari to her feet and gave her a quick once over. The dagger had pinned her skirts to the wall and in the fall, the wispy fabric had ripped easily, leaving most of the green silk behind and her legs uncovered. Lo'gan had seen Mari's hennaed arms, but he had no idea the brownish red ink trailed in designs all the way up her slender legs as well. Flustering under Lo'gan's piercing look, Mari straightened out her black robe with shaky hands and readjusted her hood as best she could with her still connected hands. Realizing he was making her uncomfortable, Lo'gan moved away reluctantly and went to see what Harabi was up to.

The Dawasir was in the process of trying to pull the giant metal staff that was barring the cleaning room door open. Giving Lo'gan a knowing smirk, he moved over to make room for his fellow warrior. Lo'gan gripped the bar and without even looking at Harabi, started counting. At three, the two men did manage to lift the bar and slowly inched it from its place. The slash at Lo'gan's side had stopped bleeding, but it tore again under the strain of lifting the wrought iron bar. Mari watched them anxiously, her own left hand still hurting from the queen's cane and bruised everywhere from the fall down the shaft, but too excited to really care. Hearing the first of the guards slide down the shaft to follow them, Mari ran to Lo'gan's side just as the metal bar finally hit the ground. The three had barely run out of the room when the palace guards hit the tangle of linens behind them.

Moving quickly, Mari, Lo'gan and Harabi ran down a new tangle of corridors in their continuing efforts to escape. Glancing down a window as they passed it, Lo'gan took out his Khanjar once again and motioned to Harabi.

"We're on the second floor now."

The Dawasir nodded and looked around thoughtfully.

"But we still don't know how to get out."

Lo'gan frowned and was about to add a suggestion of scaling out a window when they suddenly turned another corner and skidded to a stop. Another dead end. Only now there were two doors. Lo'gan tightened his grip on Mari and without thinking at all, went to open the left one when Mari stopped him with her lilting words.

["No. Don't."]

Both men turned to look at Mari, eyes bright and panting from their run. Lo'gan was about to ask what was wrong, but Mari pointed to the other door frantically and tried to pull him to it.

["It's this one. This one."]

Wondering for the first time just what Mari knew of the palace, Lo'gan frowned and gave a quick nod to Harabi. Harabi opened it slightly, barely enough to peek in. Seeing that it led to a smaller hallway and was empty, he gave a silent signal that it was clear. Passing through the archway and locking it from the inside, the three palace intruders continued their run; Mari thankful she could finally recall some of the hallways the guards had led her through earlier, Harabi wondering why on earth he was running for his life without a gold coin to show for it, and Lo'gan's curiosity over Mari's role in the palace now starting to gnaw at him.

Within seconds, there were voices at the locked door as the captain's men reached the dead end too. Lo'gan followed closely as Mari tried to recall the places they were traversing. Reluctantly easing his grip on her hand so she could maneuver on her own, Lo'gan followed quietly as Mari led them to a four way intersection. Jumping up when she heard the door that she pointed out just seconds ago splinter under the weight of something heavy, Mari quickly looked back and tried to concentrate on the four possible ways out of the intersection they were in. Seeing a vase down one that she vaguely remembered from that morning, Mari called out and started running.

["This way!"]

Lo'gan and Harabi almost tripped over each other to follow her as the guards finally broke through the door into the wing they were now in. Looking back for a split second to see if they were following, Mari failed to see a servant that came walking out of a room with a mountain of linens in his arms. Mari crashed into him with a squeak and almost fell backwards. Fortunately, Lo'gan was there and righting her gently before she could hit the ground, snarled at the frightened servant who was staring up at Mari from his place on the ground.

"Which way to the stables?"

Caught up in gawking at Mari's exotic features, the man did not even acknowledge Lo'gan until Harabi grabbed him by the arm and brought him up to his feet. They needed directions and Harabi could tell Lo'gan was very protective of people looking at his green-eyed girl. If the poor sap didn't snap out of it soon, they'd be hell to pay.

"The stables! Which way?"

With effort, the man focused on Harabi and seeing the blue guard uniforms for the first time, quickly stuttered.

"Y-yes, sir, they, they……are towards the west side."

Clutching Mari's hand tightly, Lo'gan stepped up to the servant again and roared out in his most intimidating voice.

"Stairs!"

The man cowered and pointed down the corridor they were traveling on.

"Y-you can go through the servant's wing, sir. Make t-two lefts and you'll see them…it."

Snarling once more for good measure, Lo'gan pulled an amused Mari into his side again just as the footsteps of the guards following them could be heard. This time knowing where they were going to, made the going much faster and before they realized, they were in a significantly less appointed section of the grand palace. Ignoring the gasps of surprise at Mari's appearance and a few curious faces regarding the guards uniforms, Mari, Lo'gan and Harabi speed through the wing without any resistance until they finally reached the stairs.

Letting out a triumphant whoop, Harabi led them down the dark stone stairwell. Because the servants were not allowed to light their passageways with oil lamps, it was only when they were all halfway down to the first landing that they realized that they were not alone. A call for `stop right there' rang out and cursing their luck, Lo'gan immediately let go of Mari's hand to charge down to meet whoever was waiting.

It turns out that there were only five guards waiting, but they were still no match for the desert dwellers. While Lo'gan fought them off with his light Khanjar, Harabi worked as best he could with the large and heavy saber, before dropping it and reaching for his L-shaped dagger as well. Seeing that they were pretty much engaged, Mari turned her sights back to the corridor they had just come from. She could already make out the rumble of footsteps fast approaching and the fleeing servants were definite cause for concern. They were essentially trapped in the small, narrow stairwell on either side, but they had come too far to get caught now. Cringing as one of the guards screamed when Harabi slashed at his thigh, Mari ran back up the stairs quickly. Lo'gan saw her out of the corner of his eye and fearing the worst, yelled after her.

"Wait!!"

Mari glanced back to see Lo'gan's panicked expression in the dim stairwell, but quickly ignored it as she bound up the stairs, green silk and black linen fluttering all around her. She burst back into the servant's wing and spotting the captain of the guard and over two dozen men charging straight for her, Mari willed her feet to move. The two or three servants still in the passageway disappeared into rooms and Mari sprinted as fast as she could with her hands still linked, while hoping that the screaming coming from the stairwell were not her brave rescuers. She ran straight to a torch lamp they had passed earlier. Using the momentum from her run, Mari kicked the brass fixture over with a grunt and leapt back as the thick oil that lit the entire passageway spilled across the narrow corridor, closely followed by a wall of flame.

The oil soaked carpets and thick rugs that graced the walls quickly caught fire and in a matter of seconds, the entire path to the stairwell was covered in flames. The captain of the guard halted on the other side of the firewall and quickly ordered his men through, but it was impenetrable and everyone knew it. Mari grinned in accomplishment through the flickering flames at the enormous man and quickly turned back to the stairwell, satisfied that the guards would have to go back and around the entire building to follow them out.

Almost back to the dark entryway, Mari giggled happily and nearly ran right into Lo'gan coming up to get her. The look in his eyes was one of absolute relief at seeing her whole and then shock at seeing the passageway on fire. Mari saw him quickly assess what she had done and with a smirk at the furious captain screaming and carrying on on the other side of the blazing fire, he took Mari's hand again and charged below. Stepping over three bodies without really acknowledging them, Mari faintly wondered if Lo'gan had thought that she had run away. The thought was cut short, however, when she saw Harabi leaning on the landing wall.

Harabi's shoulder was bleeding and frustrated that she couldn't communicate, Mari was about to mime that they stop and tend to him, but the men had other ideas. Exchanging a few words she could not understand, they continued on their way down. Before she even knew it, they were on their knees under the archway that led to an outside courtyard, finishing up their plan. Mari could faintly make out the sea breeze that she sensed the previous night and she could even see the faint glow of moonlight reflecting into the dark archway. Crawling to the entrance on her knees, she smiled when the familiar stars came into view. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since she was last under them and feeling the cuff on her shoulder, Mari's eyes darted back and forth in recognition of all the familiar constellations while Harabi and Lo'gan spoke in hushed tones behind her. She felt more hope than she had in a long time at being a step closer to finding Danea.

Lost in what that meant, Mari failed to see that Harabi and Lo'gan were done talking and that Harabi had snuck off until she felt a finger run down her cheek. Startled, Mari whipped her head around to catch Lo'gan giving her a curious look. He had caught her staring at the stars, something he did often, but that he had never seen anyone else do in quite the same way. Mari flustered and shrugging her shoulders, offered her one overwhelming thought.

["We're free."]

Lo'gan took in Mari's watery eyes and nodded. He didn't really know what she had said, but the words rung out nicely. It had probably to do with the stars, the night or being out in fresh air. It was probably the one thing a person in chains could think about. Lo'gan looked down to the chain connecting Mari's hands. The gold flickered warmly in the moonlight. He had almost forgotten about them. Swallowing carefully, Lo'gan shaped his tongue to approximate the sound Mari had just made and pulled out the short blade from his sash.

"Werrfreee."

Mari's eyes widened and Lo'gan stared at her expectantly, not sure if he had just done something wrong. But then Mari slapped a hand over her mouth and giggled. Lo'gan smirked at the girlish laughter and brought the chain that connected Mari's hands forward. Mari let her hands get pulled, still marveling at the funny attempt Lo'gan had just made to speak Germanian. Anyone in the Jabir clan could tell you that Lo'gan was not the type of man anyone laughed at, but he frankly couldn't get enough of Mari's laughter. Bringing the thin gold chain to the stone floor of the archway, Lo'gan brought his blade high over his head. Giving Mari a raised eyebrow, he offered his new word one more time.

"Werrfreee."

Mari giggled again and before she could move, Lo'gan brought down his sharp blade crashing down to the stone. It created a spark and the gold chain split cleanly in three at the junction where her hands connected to the chain leading from her waist. Gasping at the move, Mari jumped back and brought her hands up slowly. The chains were still surrounding her wrists, but the fact that they were no longer connected to each other caused her giggling to die down and the tears in her eyes to finally spill over. She looked up at Lo'gan's piercing eyes and hoped he understood the gratitude she felt.

["Thank you."]

Lo'gan instantly understood her words. They were the first things she had ever said to him. Nodding slightly, he ventured the response that seemed to have worked before.

"You're welcome."

Mari colored slightly in remembrance and hearing horses nearby, wiped her face. Lo'gan heard it too and distinctly recognizing his own stallion's whinny, took Mari's now free hands and motioned to a wagon in the middle of the courtyard. Mari nodded and seeing Harabi ambling over with two highly decorated horses, gave Lo'gan a horrified look. Chuckling, Lo'gan tore off the rest of his hated blue overshirt and snuck away. Mari watched as he made a beeline to the courtyard gates, tempted for a minute to go with him, but then decided to reach the cart Lo'gan had pointed out instead. Using bales of hay and crates along the way for cover, Mari scurried to the enormous wagon and watched with nervous anticipation as Harabi brought two horses over to where she was.

Mari had been around horses in Battavia, but she had a very uneasy relationship with them. Basically she was terrified of them and they seemed to know this from a mile away. Approaching Harabi tentatively, she eyed the two stout horses with curiosity. Before long, the desert dweller motioned to her and running up to meet him, Mari trotted alongside him towards the courtyard fence, where Lo'gan was pulling the wooden gates open. They were moving slow and deliberately over soft ground to make as little noise as possible. It amazed Mari just how well the horses moved. It seems like they were in on the plan as well, and caught up in admiring the black and auburn stallions, she almost forgot the Dawasir completely. It was only when he pulled her down to the ground next to him that she remembered that he was hurt.

Ripping off a torn piece of her silk skirt, Mari motioned to Harabi's shoulder. The Dawasir let out a sly smile and scooted over, wondering just how on earth he would explain to his brothers about a green-eyed girl. Cognizant of his evaluative gaze, Mari worked quickly to secure a hasty bandage to his shoulder. Unlike Lo'gan, there was a certain deviousness in this Bedouin's eyes and Mari felt like she was on display again. Almost done tying the scrap in place, Mari failed to hear Lo'gan approach until Harabi dropped his smirk and inched back.

Mari smiled in relief at seeing Lo'gan again and wishing she could find a way to express herself past thank you to the strangers, almost didn't notice when he took her by the waist and hustled her over to the black stallion. For some reason, Mari had already known that that particular animal was his. It seemed funny, but they shared the same brooding look and even the antisocial behavior. The animal responded to her with a snort and a cautious step back. Instantly afraid, Mari pressed into Lo'gan, but was quickly brought forward again. This time she watched as Lo'gan stroked the animal's long snout. The stallion eventually stopped fussing and murmuring words she did not understand, Lo'gan took Mari's hand in his. Mari looked at Lo'gan with trepidation, and Harabi wondered out loud if they should just take another horse, but Lo'gan was determined. He was sure Mari could not ride alone and it would only slow them down if that was the case. Looking into her face, he repeated the word `slowly' as he brought her hand to the animal's snout.

Nayif was wary of everyone, only letting Lo'gan ride him for more years than anyone cared to count, but he gradually took in Mari's scent as his master slowly inched her over to him. It was intermingled with that of his master's and that meant she was safe. Even though he could smell her fear, she posed no real danger. Willing to show acceptance, the magnificent animal twitched his ears and turned his long head to nuzzle against Mari's neck. Mari startled, but was held in place by Lo'gan, who faintly wondered how Nayif got to cuddle against her when he was still working his way past holding her hand. Lost in a three way petting, it was Harabi that eventually spurred them to move from where he was already mounted on his horse.

"We are still being hunted down like animals. Do you think we can go now?"

Lo'gan snapped out of his admiration of Mari's timid petting of his tempestuous horse and nodded a frustrated approval. Leading her by the waist to the saddle, he motioned to Mari where to place her feet.

"Here and……there."

Mari nodded and pushed up like she had seen Harabi do. With Lo'gan's support she was up in the saddle in no time, but was soon faced with a dilemma. Her wispy skirts were practically non-existent and her anabbayah cloak was open down the front. Darting her eyes back to Lo'gan every few seconds, Mari hastily adjusted her cloak to cover her legs as best she could. Lo'gan on his part tried not to look, and waited until she was secure before taking his place behind her. Harabi looked up from where he was unwinding his stolen turban and raised an eyebrow. Lo'gan returned his silent prodding with a warning look and clicked his commands to Nayif. It was easier to ride in front, but he wanted Mari comfortable and secure in the saddle for what they were about to do next and the only way to do that would be to have her in front. Giving one last evaluative look to the courtyard, Lo'gan pressed Nayif forward, closely following Harabi into the palace's back gardens.

Lo'gan and Harabi galloped quickly through the abandoned grassy lawns while keeping an eye on the noise and commotion going on in the front gardens. There were still hundreds of people milling about, not to mention blue turbaned guards everywhere, but they had severely underestimated the Bedouin warriors. The captain figured the only way in and out of the palace was through the front gates, and so he concentrated his men there, stopping and checking every guest that left or entered, but Lo'gan and Harabi had no intentions of crossing the heavily armed gate. On their way in that afternoon, Lo'gan and Harabi had done more than stroll through the gardens. Like Mari, they too had been on the lookout for possible escape routes they could use later on. Fortunately for the three of them, there was one that none of the guards would even think of checking until days later.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Ma'in's royal palace was located on the highest point of a cliff. Everyone knew that it was heavily secured with gates surrounding its perimeter, but what most people failed to realize was that it did have a vulnerable opening. The breach was the open ledge behind the palace that led down to the shores of the Arabian Sea. Had the royal guards known the true nature of desert-bred Arabian horses, they would have chased Lo'gan and Harabi there instead of assembling on the front gates. But either way, their own horses could not have given chase down the sea cliffs. Only the desert horses possessed the agility and strength to maneuver expertly down the nearly vertical slope and only they would even attempt it, since they would disregard their own fearful equine natures in a heartbeat to follow any of their master's commands faithfully.

Counting on this loyalty, Harabi and Lo'gan crossed the lush gardens and rode right up to the narrow ledges of the steep precipice. Mari realized their plan when they were practically over the edge and horrified, clutched at the arm that Lo'gan had crossed over her waist tightly.

["We'll fall over!"]

Sensing Mari's fear, Lo'gan leaned into her, bring their bodies flush against each other and spoke gently into her hair.

"It's okay, they can handle it. Just hold on to me. Hold on."

Mari gasped as Nayif took another unsteady step down on the craggy rock face and squirmed even tighter against Lo'gan. The surf of the ocean crashed against the rocks at the foot of the cliff sending arcs of spray fifteen feet into the night air. It was an altogether welcome sight to see moving water again, but terrified of the height and the bits of rock that loosened and fell into the surf after the horses uprooted them, Mari could not bring herself to watch. Turning her face into Lo'gan's still bare chest, Mari decided to pray instead. Lo'gan cupped her head and tucked her in even tighter, welcoming the feel of her warmth against him in the cooling night air.

They remained that way for over an hour as the horses slowly secured footing down the steep, winding overhangs; Mari silently reviewing the ancient blessings her uncle Cloarin had taught her while desperately ignoring the sudden lurches and Lo'gan maneuvering Nayif's reins while wondering what exactly he was going to tell his father now that he failed to secure a more reasonable tariff from the Sultan. Eventually those thoughts changed. As Mari felt the incline ease into less of a drop and as Lo'gan's thoughts strayed from politics to the flash of leg he saw every time the wind brushed away Mari's anabbayah, both began to think more of the person they were tightly pressed into.

Mari was the first to react by straightening herself out when she felt Lo'gan's hand shift from where he was holding her at the waist to brush the hair she had flapping in the wind off her face. His hands lingered by her cheek for a second too long and shifting slightly, Mari looked up into his face, immediately regretting the move that now brought his lips into close proximity to hers. Staring into the clear green eyes lined in kohl, Lo'gan smiled and opened his hand to cup Mari's neck. Still rubbing her cheek with his thumb, Lo'gan felt his body coil in anticipation of a kiss and silently searched her face for a sign that he could.

Mari watched the coal black eyes darken a few shades more and stopped breathing altogether. The Bedouin had the ability to look right through her and this close, it was dangerously unnerving. Hesitating for a second, Mari licked her bottom lip and was about to ask something when a sudden lurch forward from Nayif caused her head to bump against his chin. Pulling Nayif's reins to the left, Lo'gan cursed bad timing and watched Mari blush nervously and turn to face forward again with slightly more space between them.

Lo'gan still held her in place and Mari still clutched at him tightly, but she was significantly less afraid than she was before. In little over an hour, they were finally nearing the beach below. Hearing the surf crashing unlike anything she had ever known before, Mari finally ventured a tentatively look down as Nayif carefully navigated the remaining portion of the rocky ledge. What she saw caused her to gasp. Feeling her body tense up, Lo'gan shifted to see Mari's face, but quickly saw that she was not afraid, she was awed. He looked out over the open ocean too, so busy with thoughts of the Sultan and the woman nestled against him, that he hadn't realized how glorious it really was.

The half moon was now high and it lit the seemingly endless ocean magnificently. The surf that crashed below them was remarkable. It was fluid like the rivers and streams of Battavia and as endless as the Black Sea she crossed with Battam and his people. Unlike a river or a lake, however, it recoiled back and struck again with the same recycled power. It was like a wheel, giant and invisible and never missing a cycle. Mari looked up at the rising moon next, the night sky just a slightly darker shade of blue than the ocean. The night was beautifully clear and held just a trace of clouds over the horizon, leaving the magnificent stars on display. Familiar stars. Stars that reminded her of home.

Troubled by a sudden thought, Mari looked down from the twinkling sky to the dark hands that held her. They were bare and roughened and had fought so hard to help get her out of her chains. It was all so confusing. Why would they want her? Why would they risk so much for her? Where were they going and what would be the outcome of it all? Mari thought back to her promise of finding Danea, no matter what the cost. It was the motivation behind her every move since the day her father was killed. Closing her eyes tightly at the remembered feel of his hot blood splattering over her face, Mari suppressed a shiver. When that old queen had taken her bracelet map, she had lost hope, but by a strange twist of fate it was hers again and that had to mean something. It had to mean that the gods wanted her to return. She had to. She was not sure how, but she had to.

Sensing her change in mood, Lo'gan clutched the reins and brought his stallion to a stop. Mari stiffened and blinked back at him. Startled by the intense concern in his eyes, Mari stared at Lo'gan and swallowed hard. Her eyes fell down to his chest, but uncomfortable with them there, she glanced up again when he lifted her chin with his fingers. Mari smiled tightly and looked back over the sparkling ocean. Somewhere below them, she heard Harabi stop too and wanting desperately to get going again, Mari motioned to the open landscape and smiled with some effort.

["Beautiful."]

Lo'gan nodded thoughtfully, not sure if he had just misread sadness in Mari's features and followed her gaze across the silver speckled water lapping noisily to the white shores. Wet sand was not something he particularly liked, but it was familiar. So much like the sands that made up his home and it was beautiful in it's own way. Suddenly understanding what Mari had said, Lo'gan smiled and shifted so that Mari was resting on his shoulder and he could see her face clearly. Keeping an eye on the path Nayif had resumed, he pointed one hand, wrapped in leather reins, to Mari's chest.

"Beeutifoll."

Like the time in the archway, Mari held out all of three seconds before laughing out loud. She giggled despite herself, and almost instantly forgot her thoughts of home. Wondering if the Bedouin understood what he was saying, she shook her head and pointed to the glimmering ocean they were fast approaching.

["No, that's beautiful."]

Seeing his blank expression, Mari pointed at the intricate design of a peacock's tail painted on her left hand next. It was coincidentally the same hand queen Zainab had smashed with her cane.

["Beautiful."]

Then she patted down Nayif's gorgeous mane of black hair.

["He's beautiful too. All three are beautiful."]

Now it was Lo'gan's turn to disagree. Pleased that he had made her smile again, Lo'gan repeated his newly learned word and pointed at Mari again, confident that if she had pegged her henna designs, the ocean and Nayif in the same category, it had to mean something good.

"Beeutifoll."

Her breath catching at the fact that he had touched her skin yet again, Mari blushed and shook her head no.

["No, not beautiful, just different."]

The tinge of pain that Lo'gan imagined seeing just moments ago, flashed through Mari's clear eyes again and Lo'gan paused in his teasing. Jostling slightly in the saddle as Nayif stepped over rocks and clumps of salt resistant weeds, they assessed each other carefully. Lo'gan eventually broke the silence, repeating the word again slowly.

"Beeutifoll."

Mari huffed and looked down in embarrassment. Somehow, the dark Bedouin genuinely believed that. He thought she was beautiful and not just because she was odd, but……well, she didn't know why, but it was sweet of him to think so anyway. He was so far the only individual that even tried to talk her language and she had picked one hell of a word to teach him. Even though she had seen him fight men off ruthlessly all day, he was still gentle and trustworthy beyond words. It was a real shame that she didn't even know his name. Mari sat up a little straighter as an idea struck her. She took the hand that had gone back around her waist and pressed it to her chest. Ignoring how warm and soft the skin there was, Lo'gan raised an eyebrow and stared at Mari's lips, which were pressed together as if tasting something.

["Ma-ri. Ma-ri."]

Lo'gan's face twitched into a half smile. He knew instinctively what that meant and it hadn't even occurred to him until now that he had yet to hear her name. Watching Mari's exaggerated pronunciation a few times, Lo'gan figured he had it and pressed his lips together too.

"Maaaww-ri."

Mari nodded happily and repeated just to make sure.

"Mari."

Lo'gan absentmindedly shifted Nayif towards the right to avoid a large boulder and tried again.

"Maa-rrrii."

Mari smiled and nodded. Pleased with himself, Lo'gan practiced a little.

"Marri, Mari, Mari."

That earned him a little giggle and a blush. Taking advantage of the good mood, Lo'gan took the hand Mari had pressed to her chest over to his. Mari looked down at his still bare chest and blushed a little deeper as Lo'gan pressed her hand in so that her fingers opened completely. Not really breathing, Mari took her gaze from the warm, hard muscle under her palm and looked up to try and focus on what he was saying.

"Lo-gan. Lo-gan. Lo'gan."

Mari blinked and shaped her mouth accordingly, hoping vainly that her flush didn't show.

"lllrrr…"

Lo'gan saw she wasn't doing it right and pressed two fingers to the side of her cheeks. That narrowed her mouth and leaning in real close, he breathed his name out again.

"Lo-gan."

Mari stared at his mouth moving just inches from hers and tried again, Lo'gan's proximity not really helping her concentration.

"Loooo-gaannn. Lo-gann. Lo'gan."

The Jabir warrior smiled and Mari did too, knowing she had finally gotten it right. Then an idea occurred to her and she decided to offer everything else she knew in the Bedouin language.

"Camel, sit, water, please, mutton, tent, good, shut-up, goat…… Lo'gan."

Bursting out into a full, hearty laughter that made Harabi turn to see what was wrong with him, Lo'gan squeezed Mari as he marveled at all she knew. It certainly wasn't much, but at least her pronunciation was good and it was a start. Mari laughed with him, surprised of the grumbling emerging from his chest. The two laughed until Harabi felt the need to shush them from his horse. Slapping a hand over her mouth, Mari giggled even more in childish glee as Lo'gan responded with a grumbled word under his breath that she knew must have been a curse word.

Raising his eyebrow at Mari, Lo'gan settled her in again, knowing that they were soon going to be at the bottom of their perilous journey down the sea side cliffs. Already Harabi was at the bottom and surveying the stretch of beach. Holding her tightly for the last few steps, Lo'gan praised Nayif as they finally stepped down onto solid ground. Relieved, Mari let out a small sigh and smiled at Harabi who walked out to meet them.

"There's a smooth trail up along the beach into the western quarter."

Lo'gan nodded and moved to dismount as well. Giving Mari a reassuring smile, he walked towards the shore with his partner.

"We can move south then, but the tide is coming in, so we have to move quickly."

Harabi looked at the crashing waves and considered them carefully. Wet sand was not something he liked being around. Thinking the exact same thing, Lo'gan looked back to where Mari was cautiously trying to dismount Nayif. Her skirts were everywhere and she was about two seconds from falling flat on her behind. Smiling despite himself, Lo'gan was about to go back and help her, when Harabi gripped his arm.

"What are you going to do with her?"

Lo'gan's smile was instantly replaced by his typical stern look.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Harabi took a cautious step back and tried again.

"You can't take her to the……to your clan, they won't……well, she……"

Lo'gan whipped his head around and faced his partner. Harabi figured there and then that a lovesick Lo'gan giggling at a girl was better than a menacing one about two feet from him. He was tempted to just shut up about the whole thing, but if they were going any further, someone had to say it.

"Won't what? She's mine, Dawasir. They will accept her without question."

Harabi snorted and resisted the urge to look at the girl in question. She had just slid off Lo'gan's horse in the background and landed with an ungraceful thud in the sand.

"Are you so sure? Have you even thought about what she wants to do?"

Lo'gan stopped in his pacing and looked at Harabi pointedly. For a second the Dawasir thief thought he saw a flash of fear across the older man's face. It was brief, but very distinct.

"She'll come, I'll……I'll ask her and she will……you'll see."

Lo'gan flexed his hands unconsciously and struggled with the new concept of his dream woman somehow not ending up his. Regret gnawed at Harabi when he saw this struggle on Lo'gan's face and he approached him again, this time with a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"Just be careful. It must be her choice."

Lo'gan nodded thoughtfully and admitted as much. It did have to be her choice. Somehow, she had to want it as much as him. Looking to the cloaked figure brushing sand off herself and gingerly petting the horses in the distance, Lo'gan clenched his jaw and regarded his partner again. It seemed strange to consider a Dawasir a partner, but he had more than proven so in the last few days. Swallowing the worry he felt over Mari, the Sultan, their escape, and the eminent disappointment on his father's face over his failed mission, Lo'gan kicked at the sand under him and started in her direction again. Harabi followed him, content that he didn't get his nose busted for sticking it into Lo'gan's business and eager to hear what they were going to do next.

"Look, Dawasir, I'll figure out a way to explain to her where we are going. For now, we stick to the plan and make it out of the city before sunrise."

Harabi nodded and watched his guard's sandals sink into the wet sand.

"Why can't we stay at Miznih's? She'll hide us out for certain."

Lo'gan shook his head no and picked up a shell that was partially buried in the sand and glimmering in the moonlight.

"She would, but too many customers have seen us there. The Sultan, or the queen I should say, will most likely place a reward on our heads. Too dangerous. Our best bet is still in the dunes."

"What if they follow?"

"We'll circle the Rub al-Khali for about a week to throw them off if they do. Then return to our clans with the news."

Harabi stopped and looked over at his partner, concern written all over his youthful face.

"What will we tell them?"

Lo'gan grimaced and looked up to assess the position of the moon again.

"Everything. They'll call a majlis council of all the area sheiks and together they'll determine the next step."

Harabi tossed the pebble he had been thumbing back in the direction of the water.

"Embargo?"

Lo'gan shrugged and they both continued their walk to the horses.

"Maybe, but I doubt it. It'll need to be more."

Harabi turned to ask what he meant by that, but the moment was gone. Mari had walked up to them and Lo'gan's demeanor changed completely. The half smile returned and he picked a bit of grass from her hair. Still confused by what Lo'gan had meant by his last statement, Harabi almost didn't hear when he spoke again. But this time it wasn't towards him. The famed ladies man watched with a mixture of awe and concern as Lo'gan started speaking in gibberish that sounded very much like the girl's language. Strange comment already forgotten, Harabi grabbed his horse's reins and shaking his head, took the lead again, hoping against hope that he would at least have enough time to catch up with Miznih at least one more time when they arrived at her place.

Lo'gan meanwhile had been making Mari giggle with his newly learned words. She was teaching him the Germanian word for horse and he was adding to her ten word Bedouin vocabulary with the word for saddle. Mari practiced it a few times and watched with a strange buzz in her head as Lo'gan opened the pack on Nayif's back and withdrew a thin robe of his own. Trying not to get caught staring as he dressed like she had before, Mari walked to the other side of Nayif and slowly led him forward. Lo'gan threw on his outer robe haphazardly and watched Mari from across Nayif's bulging shoulder muscles. When he was done, he reached for the reins too, a perfect excuse to touch her pale hands. Mari stiffened a little, so Lo'gan quickly countered with the one sentence he already knew he could make.

"Mari beeutifoll."

That caused Mari to stop dead in her tracks and stare at the man on the other side of Nayif's long snout. He looked deadly serious and hoping she wasn't as red as she felt, Mari looked down and tried to focus on the sand under her feet as she moved forward again. She wasn't sure why Lo'gan insisted on calling her that, but she tightened her grip on Nayif's reins and kept moving, very aware of the fingers brushing against hers and the intense eyes that followed her every move.

Lo'gan watched Mari try and disappear into her hooded cloak and smiled to himself. After their horses had enough rest, they would ride again and be at Miznih's in just over an hour. There, he would have to somehow ask her. He knew deep inside that Mari was his but Harabi had been right. She was a slave and the last thing he wanted was to deny her a choice to go with him. As desperately as he wanted her, she had to want him too.

Fishing the shell he had picked up earlier from the sand out of his sash, Lo'gan handed it to Mari. Mari reached for it and turned the oddity in her hand a few times before looking up and smiling at Lo'gan, who quickly supplied its proper label.

"Shell."

Mari nodded and tried the word herself.

"Shhhell."

Lo'gan chuckled and Mari blushed, their game of teaching each other their language masking the deep connection both felt of sharing with the other. Pleased that she was happy and they would make good time on foot, Lo'gan eased back into leading Nayif leisurely through the sand while watching Mari out of the corner of his eye and Mari turned the smooth shell in her fingers while trying not to notice.

They remained that way for a long time as they crossed the huge expanse of beach that bordered one side of the city, their thoughts dwelling languidly on the other, while their hands eventually interconnected; dark rough fingers laced tightly with pale hennaed ones, each subconsciously getting accustomed to the weight and texture of the other, refusing to think too far ahead and simply enjoying the feel of quiet company for the time being. The future being to chaotic and unpredictable to ponder, they instead relished each other; present, real and as tangible as the sand under their feet.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan double-checked the alley in both directions before quietly signaling Harabi across the square. Nodding slightly, the Dawasir stepped onto the oil lamp lit street with both horses in tow. Once they had left the beach, they had been extra careful in traversing the city, aware of not only the oddity of their outfits but also the strong presence of the royal guard on the streets. Luckily they were in a district famous for its nocturnal happenings and Harabi was able to steal coverings from a clothesline that hid their stolen garb. Having removed the fancy trappings off the horses before leaving the beach, all that Mari, Lo'gan and Harabi had to do now was safely get to Miznih's house without being noticed – or rather said, without anyone noticing Mari.

That required some planning. Eventually, they opted to slump her over a saddle like a drunk and cover her up as best they could with her robe and pray that no one stopped them. It seemed to work well so far, and swaying slightly, Harabi ambled down the streets among the late night revelers moving back and forth from whorehouses to gambling tents, quietly following Lo'gan through back alleys and tent clusters. But with the kind of day they were having, at least one close call was inevitable.

Rounding the last corner before Miznih's street, Lo'gan came face to face with three royal guards questioning pedestrians about them. Caught in an uncharacteristic moment of panic, Lo'gan hunched over and turned around, hoping to halt Harabi before he turned the corner as well, but unfortunately, one of the guards called to him and he had no choice but to respond. Clutching the Khanjar that was sheathed at his side and under his robe, Lo'gan hobbled to the three turbaned men, hoping he could at least hold them back long enough for Harabi and Mari o get away. It was unnecessary however, as Harabi burst onto the square and started singing.

All eyes, including Lo'gan's turned to see what the commotion was. In his best drunken posture, Harabi stumbled onto the street corner, waving a bottle he had just snatched from a passed out drunk on the street, screeching loudly out of tune about lost loves. Almost everyone, including two of the guards chuckled and taking advantage of the distraction, Lo'gan snuck away into an alley, confident that Harabi could easily slip out of the spotlight like the pro that he was. Cutting through a few private courtyards, Lo'gan backtracked to where Harabi had come from and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Mari on the ground, huddled between their two horses and watching Harabi's performance from behind a fence.

Sneaking up on her quietly, Lo'gan clasped a hand over her mouth before throwing back his hood to reveal who he was. Watching Mari's beautiful eyes blink in recognition, Lo'gan slowly removed his hand from her mouth and looked around once again before asking a question.

"Are you alright?"

Mari understood his question perfectly and nodded a frantic yes. Taking her by the arm, Lo'gan got to his feet and gathered the horse reins from her hands.

"Good, then follow me."

Mari pulled at the hood covering her head and nodded again. To Lo'gan's great satisfaction, she clutched his free hand and squeezed up along his side. Together, they walked around the crowd that had gathered to watch Harabi challenge another inebriated man to a fight without so much as a glance from the guards. Lo'gan moved quickly, working hard to remember the path to Miznih's store. Fortunately, it was bannered in bright fabrics, so spotting it was fairly easy once they were on the right block. Going around the back of the two story structure to the secret door that led to the underground entrance, Lo'gan clutched Mari and knocked like he had seen Harabi do the night before. Tucked into his side, Mari watched and waited with anticipation. She had no idea of where she was going, but she trusted that Lo'gan would take her someplace safe. Feeling her hand tighten around his, Lo'gan looked back to her and offered a reassuring smile, but Mari didn't see it, since her gaze was firmly glued to the girl that had just emerged from the door in a haze of incense and music in a shocking yellow dress.

"Lo'gan! I figured you had to be chained to a dungeon by now! Where the hell is Hara……hey!!"

Grumbling at the amount of people inside the secret brothel, Lo'gan pulled Miznih outside into the archway and closed the door behind her. The shopkeeper/madam, however, didn't even notice, as her gaze traveled up and down Mari's form. Mari had grown accustomed to keeping her gaze down in front of people to keep them from noticing her, but the girl in yellow was impossible to ignore and she had inadvertently let herself exposed.

"He's right behind us, now we need……girl, are you listening??"

Lo'gan sighed in contempt as the awed Miznih gaped at Mari. Embarrassed beyond words, Mari looked down to her satin covered feet and tucked in a little tighter to Lo'gan. Frustrated that she was neither listening, nor helping and making Mari uncomfortable to boot, Lo'gan growled and eventually stepped in front of Mari to completely obscure her from Miznih's curiosity. Instead of feeling threatened, the shopkeeper/madam, broke into a wide grin.

"Gods!! Was that the girl you kept rambling about?? I can't believe you found her!"

Frustrated, Lo'gan took Miznih by the arm again and tried to make her look at him.

"Look, we need help. Are you……"

Miznih wrenched her arm free and gave Lo'gan a look of utter annoyance. Mari out of sight, she had no choice but to focus on the Jabir.

"Yeah, yeah. Just wait a minute, I'll get my……oh my baby!!"

Lo'gan rolled his eyes at the unnaturally high-pitched screech and knowingly moved to the side as Miznih whizzed by him in a blur of yellow and landed in Harabi's arms. Startled by the frenzied action, Mari turned with surprise and stared at the reunion between the two. She wouldn't have guessed it, but the girl and their traveling companion were obviously…….uhh, friendly. Blushing at the frenetic kiss they shared, Mari clutched at Lo'gan, who hands on hips, was beyond irritated.

"Can we secure our horses first?"

Harabi tried to break free from Miznih's attack and managing only to twist his hurt shoulder, mumbled an agreement. Grinning widely into her lover's face, Miznih jumped back and turned to Lo'gan again.

"Fine, I'll get my servant to take your horses, but I warned the two of you. You're lucky you're still alive. As a matter of fact, why are you wearing guard uniforms?"

Taking his cue, Harabi took the finger Miznih was wagging at him and gave it a solemn kiss.

"I'll explain later, honey, and Lo'gan's right, we need cover for a few hours."

Miznih's smile grew to match Harabi's and throwing Lo'gan and Mari a meaningful glance, added.

"Fine then. There are still some empty rooms upstairs. Umm, maybe she should come with me."

Lo'gan's grip on Mari's hand tightened and he immediately cut in before any more suggestions of that sort were made.

"She's staying with me."

Miznih smiled at Lo'gan's automatic response with a raised eyebrow and shrugged nonchalantly.

"As you wish."

Looking from Lo'gan's frown to Miznih and Harabi's mischievous smiles, Mari tried to gather what was going on, but was quickly ushered to the side by Lo'gan who was talking to the servant that had come to greet them. Feeling more than a little useless, she watched as Miznih and Harabi happily disappeared into the party. Laughter and music poured out the second the door was opened and wondering just what kind of gathering it was, Mari nestled into her hooded cloak even tighter, not willing to be gawked at by the dozens of people inside.

Before she knew it, Lo'gan was done giving instructions for the care of their horses and walked to her once again. Not really looking up to meet his eyes, Mari braced herself for the inevitable task of going into the boisterous crowd of people inside.

Lo'gan was not sure about being there, but he did his best to walk her through the noisy sitting room full of women and their customers without even pausing once. Staring at her feet, Mari walked mutely alongside him, hoping no one would really notice her, but in her peripheral vision, Mari could see dancing girls and men reaching for them. It hadn't occurred to her until now, but she was pretty sure she was in an establishment that catered to men. She had heard Valeria speak of them and grateful that she did not end up in a place like this, like so many of the other girls in her convoy had, Mari clung to Lo'gan for safety as they weaved through the noisy crowd.

Before long, they were out of the large room and heading up a flight of narrow stairs. Those stairs led to a series of rooms down a long, dim corridor on the second floor. Finally away from the crowd, Mari breathed easier, but Lo'gan was still tense with anxiety. Grumbling under his breath about Harabi disappearing, he stopped at the room he knew was Miznih's and pondered his next move. With his hand about to knock on the door, he reconsidered his strategy. The plan was to rest for a few hours and leave before sunrise when it was darkest, but he somehow doubted that would happen now. Still debating whether or not he should let the Dawasir have his fun, Lo'gan stood outside the door thinking until a sudden twitch alerted him to the fact that Mari was fidgeting in his grasp. He turned to look at what was wrong, but before he could ask, he heard it.

He watched Mari turn a complete shade of red and feeling his own skin itch in sudden ill ease, Lo'gan tightened his jaw and decided that maybe it was best not to interrupt Harabi and Miznih at that moment. At a loss of what to do, Lo'gan was only a second away from hitting the streets of Ma'in again, when he recognized the door to the room he had used that very same morning to dress in his phony sheik robes. Relieved, Lo'gan quickly ushered Mari down the hallway to escape the groans and moans that could be heard from practically every door they passed. Leaning slightly into the door to make sure it was empty before he opened it, Lo'gan lifted the cross latch and walked into the darkness with Mari closely behind.

The room was just as he left it and walking to the table, Lo'gan lit the brass oil lamp that served as its light source. Overall the room was comfortable, nowhere near the elegance on display in the palace, but neat and clean nevertheless. Once inside, Mari cautiously threw back her hood and took a tentative look around; a table, some pillows, and a bed. Blinking at the richly decorated bed that sat like a throne at the center of the room, Mari swallowed tightly, suddenly understanding that they were going to spend the night there.

The feeling of safety that she had felt all day long with Lo'gan faltered briefly and taking a step back into the door, Mari wondered if she had misjudged him. They were in a whorehouse after all and she was definitely not dressed any less modestly than any of the other women there. Scared to look up to meet Lo'gan's gaze, Mari wondered if it was such a bad deal. He had saved her from slavery after all and despite everything, he didn't seem very dangerous. Perhaps she could, just out of gratitude. Valeria always said business was business and she had nothing but that left to give. Still thinking over her situation, Mari jumped when Lo'gan's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Mari?"

Lo'gan watched Mari jump back into the wall and wondered if he had done the right thing. She was breathing heavily, almost panting and her hands were shaking. It dawned on him that she was scared, maybe even terrified and if he had been smarter about everything, he would have let Miznih take care of her better. Trying not to startle her any further, he asked again, his voice gentler than before.

"Mari?"

Mari looked up slowly to meet his eyes and Lo'gan sighed. He had been right. She was terrified of him. Not knowing how to even broach the subject, Lo'gan searched for a way to tell her, let her know that he meant her no harm, but he didn't know how to begin. Lo'gan was typically not very talkative, but communicating with someone who didn't even speak his language, was something altogether different. Walking slowly to the window and parting the heavy curtain to allow for some air to enter the room, Lo'gan leaned against the sill and casually extended his hand to her. Mari stared at it for a long second and Lo'gan hoped all that they had shared earlier was not lost. Remembering their earlier `conversation', he ventured a word in hopes that she would trust him again.

"Werrfreee."

Like he had expected, Mari smiled faintly and after a long evaluative look, she tentatively stepped forward to take his hand. He pulled at her gently and not breathing at all, Mari walked into his arms and gingerly allowed herself to be held. Not taking his eyes off of her face, Lo'gan brushed auburn hair off her forehead and smiled. The tender move worked magic and wondering why she felt insecure in the first place, Mari smiled back. For a moment, the two just looked at each other, feeling the heat of their bodies and trying to decipher the intentions in the eyes of the other. After a while, Mari looked down from the intensity in Lo'gan's gaze and feeling a pull in his groin at the proximity of Mari's plump lips, Lo'gan pulled away too. Clearing his throat, he spoke out in a carefully level voice.

"We're just staying here for a little while……if, if you want, I could get you some food."

Mari blinked at Lo'gan with a slight frown. Lo'gan knew that meant she was thinking and searching his memory for the Bedouin words she had told him earlier, opted for simplicity.

"Umm, water and mutton."

Mari's eyebrows went up and he knew she had understood. She nodded an affirmative and to Lo'gan's surprise even spoke.

"Good. Water, good."

Breathing a little easier; Lo'gan smiled and turned her so that she was against the sill. Pressing her down so that she could sit, he grinned and made motions for her to stay. Taking a few cautious steps back, he continued in the same tone.

"Okay then, I'll be right back……with water. Yes?"

Mari smiled back nervously and repeated.

"Yes."

With a final chuckle, Lo'gan backed into the door and let himself out, leaving Mari at the window to contemplate her next move. The first thing she did was take off her slippers. They were made of an exquisitely soft fabric, but offered little in the way of support. After the long walk to escape the palace, her feet ached and she was desperate to wiggle her toes freely. Thinking of the sand that still covered her, Mari moved to take off her anabbayah cloak next. Pulling at the bow that Lo'gan had tied at her throat, Mari shrugged the garment off with a sudden desperation and let it fall to the ground. But then she remembered.

Taking a contemplative look down the tattered remnants of what was once a fine concubine's outfit, Mari decided that she could no longer wear it. Looking around to see if there was anything she could wear, Mari walked over to the table where there was an assortment of garments folded neatly into squares. Pushing aside the nagging feeling that she shouldn't be touching what was not hers aside, Mari thumbed through the pile of what appeared to be dresses and robes that in actuality were no less decent than what she was already wearing. Upset that she had yet to find one that at least covered her down to her knees, Mari failed to notice that Lo'gan had already returned and was watching her from the door.

His eyes roamed her slender figure, mentally tracing the hennaed designs in her pale skin. They wound down her bare back and around her arms and legs in rivulets of animals, stars and paisley symbols. They disappeared under her many gold bracelets and necklaces, and continued down to her very fingertips. He could even make them out under the sheer green silk of her clothes. Not clothes really, more like scarves draped across her chest and hanging off her hips. Hips that curved out of the split fabric of her skirts to reveal even more designs. Transfixed by the lovely creature before him, Lo'gan stood glued in place, oblivious to the fact that he was encroaching on her privacy and that his look revealed exactly how he wanted all the dreams he had had of her to end.

Taking the last robe, which was slightly transparent, but at least long enough to reach the floor, Mari decided it would have to do. Turning to go lock the door in order to change, she skidded to a stop and shrieked when she saw Lo'gan already there. Pulling the gauzy teal green robe she was holding up to her chest, she breathed out the only thing she could.

"Lo'gan!"

Hearing his name fall so desperately out of her lips, snapped Lo'gan right out of the trance he was in. With one hand still on the door latch, he stammered out an apology and turned to leave, but the sudden move jerked the tray he was holding in his other hand and it wobbled precariously as it threatened to crash down to the floor. Luckily, his reflexes were quick and Lo'gan somehow managed to right the tray on time before it hit the ground. It was, however, too little to save the pitcher of water, who continued its fall and tipped over, drenching Lo'gan's feet. The Jabir warrior cursed out in response and instead of being concerned, Mari smiled. Still clutching her robe to her chest, she stepped forward and righted the porcelain pitcher off the floor before the water was completely lost into the floorboards. Eyes wide and embarrassed, Lo'gan searched Mari's face for anger.

"I'm sorry, Mari."

Mari straightened out immediately at the sound of her name and quietly stepped back. Lo'gan stared at her, half crouched, balancing a tray of food and at a complete loss. Mari however, just looked down with her characteristic flush of color and moved to place the pitcher on the table. She had been scared of finding Lo'gan there, but it was an accident. She had walked in on Danea half her life and it was largely inevitable when you shared a room. Signaling to the tray Lo'gan was still holding, Mari motioned to the table. She was hungry, having eaten practically nothing all day and the fruit that he had brought in looked extremely appealing.

Following her instruction, Lo'gan clenched his teeth in anger with himself and stiffly put the tray down. Mari was still watching his every move carefully and he did not know what else to do. Thinking it wouldn't hurt to apologize one more time, he muttered another `I'm really sorry' and went to walk out. Surprisingly, it was Mari's hand on his shoulder that stopped him. She was still clutching the robe to her chest with one hand, trying to conceal herself as much as possible, but she did not look like she wanted him to leave.

"Lo'gan sit."

Lo'gan looked up into Mari's eyes. He stared at the green depths for a moment, not trusting himself very much longer, but what he saw was sufficient. She was not mad at him and despite the pull he felt in his body, he wanted to stay with her, even if it was just to eat. Miznih's was not the type of place he wanted her in, but it was safe for the time being and he needed to keep close by in case of trouble. He would just have to keep himself in check and that was something he could do. Looking down at the door latch in his fingers, he quietly moved to place it down again and turned to face his companion.

"Okay, I'm hungry anyway."

Mari took in the more relaxed posture and smiled. He would stay with her. The thought was remarkably comforting and despite the awkwardness, she would be safe. That she was sure of. Backing away a little, she realized she still had a painful grip on the robe in her hands and held it up, recalling what Battam had called a women's garment that day in the market so many months ago.

"Anabbayah."

Lo'gan frowned a little as he walked over to the water filled tray and picked out some dates. It wasn't exactly an anabbayah she was holding up, more like a sinful little piece of mesh, but it was close enough. Understanding what she meant to say anyway, Lo'gan pointed to the darkest corner of the room and made a show of turning around to face the wall.

"Go ahead, I'm right here."

Mari smiled slightly, amazed that they could still communicate despite knowing only a handful of words and scurried over to the corner of the room. Watching Lo'gan take one of the garments she chose not to wear and dry the fruit he had been carrying while whistling, she moved to rid herself of her hated costume. In actuality, there was little left of it, but it was difficult to take off by herself, nevertheless. It was made for someone else to undo the clasps, but desperate to rid herself of it completely, Mari yanked and ripped at the thin fabric until it lay in a heap on the floor. Lo'gan heard the ripping and the jangling of her bracelets, but did not move an inch from where he stood. Already his body was tight with longing and he did not need to add to his imagination of how Mari would look naked under him, so he stood in place, hoping the robe she chose was not as translucent as it had first looked.

Mari on her part, kept up the struggle with her outfit until she was left clothed in nothing but jewelry, the odd symbols etched into her skin, and the bluing bruises she earned while falling down the chute in the palace. Finally grabbing the teal robe she had picked out, she eased her arms into the wide sleeves and crossing it tightly over her chest, tied a double knot in its sash to hold it in place. Upset that she could still see the pale of her skin through the fabric, but too hungry to really dwell on it, Mari stepped forward and approached Lo'gan tentatively. Lo'gan felt her proximity and closed his eyes briefly before turning around, preparing himself mentally for what was sure to be the longest night of his life.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

"Lo'gan?"

Mari watched curiously as Lo'gan turned and handed her a prickly looking fruit on a clay dish, cut into little wedges. She took it with a smile and shuffling over to the bed, settled in to have her long belated meal. Lo'gan watched her with an expression of pure unadulterated lust in his eyes, but too engrossed in the sweet taste and rough texture of the fruit she was eating, Mari failed to notice. When she looked up again, having eaten almost the entire thing, he had his back turned to her and Mari wondered if he had had any at all.

"Lo'gan?"

The Jabir turned to look at Mari's playful smile and added the name. It was the game they had played the entire time they had spent crossing the beach. Whenever she said his name with that particular inflection, it meant that she wanted to know what something was called.

"Prickly pear."

Mari nodded, repeated the name a few times and finished off the fruit. Lo'gan waited anxiously as she came up to the table again, still hungry and searching for what else to eat over his shoulder. He smiled as best he could and added dates and milk to her plate from the tray. Miznih's pantry left a lot to be desired, but at least she had had something edible. Taking a bite of his own pear, Lo'gan waited until Mari was a distance from him before turning around to face her. Without even waiting to be asked, he added two more names to her vocabulary.

"Dates and uh, that there is milk."

Mari nodded as she processed the information and continued on her meal. She was still not used to the taste of camel's milk, having been raised on cow's milk herself, but she was far beyond being picky at this point. Lo'gan watched her eat guiltily, both wishing he had more to give her and cursing himself for wanting her so badly. Eating happily, she looked like a child. Despite all the trappings on her, she had an air of innocence about her that appealing as it was, was also troubling in its implications.

He knew that his failed mission to the palace was the beginning of something big. Did he really have the right to ask her to be a part of that? Was he even capable of taking care of her like she deserved? Watching her sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed eating between yawns, Lo'gan's mind wandered to the many directions his life with someone else would take. He was solitary by nature, choosing to be alone most of the time, but Mari made him feel different. She had a pull on him that started before he had even set eyes on her. That had to mean something. That had to be a sign. Lost in thoughts of the many conversations he had had with his father, where he insisted he never needed anyone but himself, Lo'gan failed to notice Mari calling to him until he felt her hand on his arm. Jumping back from her touch, Lo'gan banged his head on the wall to his back. Mari watched him with concern in her eyes, wishing she understood why he was so gone at that moment and wishing she had the ability to ask.

"Good?"

Lo'gan raised a hand to rub the back of his head and with a half snort eased away from her and walked to the window.

"Yeah. Just thinking."

Mari watched as he walked away and suddenly remembering, walked after him. To Lo'gan's surprise, she parted his outer robe. Her eyes darkened with concern and for some reason, those eyes looked different. When she had had the emerald green outfit on, her eyes were a blazing emerald. Now that she was wearing jade, they were darker, almost bluish in the dim light of the room. Either way, they were breathtaking and he wanted so much to touch her. He was tempted to reach out and yank her robes off, just to see what color her eyes would reflect with nothing on, but before he could let his foolish impulses overtake him, she was gone.

Shaking his head to regain whatever decency he had left in him, Lo'gan wondered what Mari was up to. He didn't have to wonder long however, as she came back with a bowl of water and another robe. She must have seen the slash at his side when he lifted his arm to rub his bump and remembered that it was neither cleaned nor properly bandaged. In her all business tone, he watched intensely as she pointed to the bed.

"Lo'gan sit."

Lo'gan froze in place, debating with himself what to do. On the one hand, he did not need Mari's hands on him to excite him any further. On the other hand, the slash the captain of the guard had given him was pretty nasty. If he left it alone, it could get infected and that was something that could potentially cripple them in their escape. With a half smile, he eventually complied and walked over to the cushiony bed. Moving gingerly, he kicked off his sandals and swung his legs onto the bed all the while not removing his eyes from Mari's face. Mari questioned her actions as she watched him move and deciding it was best to keep busy, started preparing her things. She split the robe in sections, folded some into strips, soaked the rest in water, and fetched both the oil lamp and the Khanjar Lo'gan had rested by the window when he left to find food.

Giving up only a slight pause in hesitation, she sat at the edge of the bed and parted Lo'gan's outer thobe. She faintly heard Lo'gan suck in his breath when she touched him but figuring it was just the pain, Mari began carefully cleaning around the hasty bandages he had tied on earlier, trying to remember everything her uncle Cloarin had taught her. Without exchanging a word, Lo'gan watched Mari heat the edge of his blade on the oil lamp and use it to cut away the old bandages. He grimaced a little as she pulled them away, but was overall mesmerized with her skillful moves. It occurred to him that she had probably done it before, but he remained silent, taking advantage of her intense concentration on the task to try and absorb every inch of her.

With the help of the lamp at their side, Lo'gan took in every curve of Mari's face; the prominent nose, the rounded cheeks, the big eyes and arched brows, the plump lips, the dark rich color of her hair, and of course, the clear eyes that seemed to take up most of her face. He watched the reflection of them from under her long eyelashes for a long time, but eventually his gaze traveled past the angles of her jaw and down her long neck.

She was still wearing close to a dozen necklaces, but he could see her pale skin peek through the warm metal perfectly. It was the palest, creamiest skin he had ever seen and wondering just how on earth a creature so divine could have been made just for him, Lo'gan continued his exploration of Mari's body. She had on a robe tied tightly around her, but the very paleness of her skin made the covering almost nonexistent. His eyes eased down the valley of her breasts and up over the rounded flesh that was calling for him. Against all better judgment and knowing that it would only heighten the tightness he felt in his groin already, Lo'gan brushed his gaze over Mari's breasts again and almost choked when he saw something glitter through the meshy fabric over her left nipple.

His reaction caused Mari to jump as well and looking up at Lo'gan with a guilty expression started apologizing profusely. Lo'gan stared back at her with an almost groan and feeling positively mortified, tried to calm her down.

"Look, it's okay. You didn't hurt me. Really……really."

Mari evaluated the sincerity in Lo'gan's face for a moment before tying the final bandage on his torso and getting up. Despite his best efforts not to look, Lo'gan followed the little glimmer of gold circling her left nipple as she brushed past him. Wondering when exactly he turned fourteen, Lo'gan gave his raging hormones one last final order to calm down before finally reaching for her arm before she walked off.

"You need to rest. We have to leave soon."

Mari blinked at the words, not fully understanding, so Lo'gan tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes with an exaggerated snore. Like always, Lo'gan's silly pantomimes brought a smile to Mari's lips and understanding what he had wanted to say, Mari nodded and added a word she learned on her own.

"Okay."

Still not getting off the bed, Lo'gan pulled Mari down to the bed and pressed her down. Mari stiffened a little, but she complied as Lo'gan took the water and things from her hands and placed them on the far table. He went to the lamp next, lowering the flame to where it barely emitted any light at all. When he walked back over to his place by the window, she finally eased back, simultaneously anxious and relieved that he was staying.

Lo'gan watched this struggle play out across her features from where he sat on the sill. He was going to stay with Mari to make sure the guards weren't going to burst in, but he sure as hell wasn't going to sleep next to her. She was just too tempting and by the way she had pretty much followed him around all day long, Lo'gan knew she wouldn't put up much of a resistance if he went to her. She would do it for sure, but that was something he could not do to her.

Flashes of what Harabi had told him earlier came back to him. He needed to ask her if she would come with him into the desert. He needed to be sure and he needed to do it quick, but looking at the feline way Mari curled onto her side on the bed, Lo'gan lost his resolve. She was dead tired and thinking back to the way she was on display for the Sultan that morning, Lo'gan wondered when was the last good rest Mari had. For a second, his thoughts strayed to whether or not she had slept alone, but digging his nails into his palm, Lo'gan shook those thoughts free from his mind. She was obviously a new acquisition and might not have even been used that way, but whatever had happened to her as a slave was certainly not her fault or even her choice.

The urge to walk back to the palace and kick the crap out of the Sultan filtered through Lo'gan again, but one look to the corner where the remnants of Mari's concubines outfit lay in a torn heap helped him calm down. She was his now and no one would touch her. He would make sure of it. His only hope was that she would allow him to be the one. Not out of gratitude or whatever, but out of love. Lo'gan turned the word in his head as he ran his fingers over the fresh bandage she had just applied. Yeah it was love. He loved her. Didn't really think he had it in him, but he had fallen for her in a big way. Wouldn't his father just die? Smirking at the thought, Lo'gan ran his gaze softly over the shape curled on the bed's edge. He loved her and maybe she might love him. He would know tomorrow. For now she had to rest and he was going to take care of her.

Letting loose the impulse to touch her take over him again, Lo'gan rose from where he was sitting on the window's sill and walked over to the bed. Already half asleep, Mari stopped rubbing the bracelet cuff on her upper arm and watched Lo'gan walk to her. He had been nothing but kind with her and she didn't mind if they did. Valeria had told her all about it and despite the flutter of fear she felt in her stomach, Mari would do it for Lo'gan. She would.

Coming down to rest on one knee, Lo'gan sat on the floor by the bed and started idly running one hand over Mari's highly decorated, but marvelously soft hair. The bit of moonlight that made it into the room set the little gold clasps in her hair on fire and comparing them to the flicker in her eyes, Lo'gan smiled. Mari smiled too and summoning all her courage, sat up slowly and brought her legs back down to the rug-covered floor. Swallowing nervously, Mari then brought her hands to the prim double knot on her robe. Lo'gan watched her fumble with the sash and immediately realized what she was thinking. He brought his hand out to still hers and instantly on his feet, leaned over her with an almost growl.

"No! That's not what……"

Lo'gan rethought his words. It was certainly what he wanted, but it was wrong. He looked right into Mari's scared eyes and blinked at the uncertainty and confusion there. It was not like in his dream, where her eyes smiled and beckoned to him. They were not there yet.

"Don't be scared Mari, it's not……it's not something we need to do right now, okay?"

Mari wrinkled her brow slightly, the sign that she was working to decipher what he had just said. She thought it was what he had wanted. But now he was mad at her, she could tell by the way he was breathing a little harder and she didn't really know what to do. Wiggling the fingers that were growing numb in his grasp, Mari blinked back the tears in her eyes. She felt rejected, stupid, and angry that she couldn't even say so.

"Lo'gan, please."

Lo'gan looked from Mari's watering eyes to the fingers turning blue in his hand. He had grabbed at her hand so quickly to stop her, that he hadn't even noticed he was hurting her. Letting go immediately, he turned the hand over in his.

"I'm sorry, just……here move your fingers a little."

Lo'gan rubbed at the digits to get circulation going again, but Mari's wince quickly alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. Catching herself before she cried out, Mari bit her lip in pain and wrenched her hand back, but Lo'gan had already seen the swollen joints. Taking her hand back gently, he leaned into her and pleaded with his eyes.

"Please, let me see. Let me see, Mari."

Mari wiped at the tears now freely rolling down her cheeks and cautiously moved her hand back out to him. She didn't want to show him, cause him more trouble than she already had, but it did hurt and the ache was getting worse. Running from the guards had kept the adrenaline high and the pain at bay, but now that she was finally still and about to fall asleep her fingers were stiff and hurting from her run in with queen Zainab's cane.

"See."

Lo'gan took the fingers cautiously this time and brought Mari's hand up towards the fading light of the brass lamp. They were swollen and not just from his clumsy handling, this was something else. Moving to the sheath he held his Khanjar in, Lo'gan unlaced one of the small pockets built into the tanned leather. Mari held her hand and watched him silently, deeply tired and wanting the day to end once and for all.

When Lo'gan finally unlaced the sheath, he withdrew a small little brass pot. Inside was a salve the clan's healing woman made for him and his horsemen. It boasted over fifty ingredients, each more secretive than the next. Opening the little pot carefully, Lo'gan scooped a dab with his index finger and went to sit on the bed's edge. He looked into Mari's face and asked softly.

"Let me see, darling."

Mari thought a second about the last word Lo'gan said and deciding she'll think about it later, stretched out her hand. Lo'gan took it guardedly and with a look of complete concentration, spread the herbal salve lightly on each of her fingers. Moving extremely slowly, Lo'gan then began to work the salve in, reverently smoothing and massaging her hennaed skin as he went. To Mari's surprise, it barely hurt at all. Checking her face for the slightest hint of pain, Lo'gan continued to work Mari's sore fingers until he was fairly sure they were numb and warm. Before long, Mari's eyes were beginning to close and hearing her yawn tiredly, Lo'gan decided that she shouldn't be up for not even a second longer.

Without pausing in his gentle massaging Lo'gan motioned for Mari to lie down and without hesitation, she complied. She eased down to the soft covers and still not letting go of her hand, Lo'gan shifted so that he was lying next to her. The whole time they moved neither took their gaze from the other's face, just a breath away. At first, Mari thought he might have changed his mind, but his look was one of concern for her. It would not be today.

In all the chaos of that day, Mari had yet to contemplate her brave Bedouin up close, but as he rubbed her hand gently, there was no better time. Memorizing the contours of his sunburned features like he had done to hers just moments before, Mari smiled softly at the man that fought so valiantly for her. Marveling at how her clear eyes twinkled when she smiled, Lo'gan smiled too, surprised that he was so close to her and yet not touching her sexually. It proved to him how much she meant to him. Only there was still something amiss about her face.

Letting his carefully constructed restraint slip just a little, Lo'gan eased down to taste the skin he dreamed so much of. He heard Mari's breath hitch in reaction, but already too close to go back, Lo'gan gathered his courage and pressed his lips to Mari's cheek, removing the last trace of her tears. Mari blinked her eyes closed and sighed, too weary to care that she was pressed into a man, but so glad it was Lo'gan. Lo'gan in turn lingered on Mari's skin a few seconds longer, enjoying the soft feel of her skin under his lips and the delicate brush of her eyelashes against his nose. When he finally pulled back, Mari's eyes were still closed and Lo'gan watched completely mesmerized as she curled her lips together to speak.

"Lo'gan."

Bursting with something akin to pride, Lo'gan resumed rubbing her injured hand with his thumb. He felt stupid at having dragged Mari all day long by it and not having noticed it hurt her, but he would make it up to her now. Bringing it tenderly to his lips, Lo'gan placed a languid kiss on the hand.

"Beeutifoll Mari."

Mari smiled even wider in her almost sleep and actually nestled in closer to the warm heat at her side. After months of sleeping alone, Mari had almost forgotten how welcome a weight next to her was. Lo'gan was definitely larger and harder than Danea, but he felt just as comfortable, just as familiar. Cuddling her head to his bare shoulder, Mari basked in the feel of Lo'gan's soft lips and prickly stubble as he brushed past her palm and further down to her wrist, where the remnants of her chains rested. The skin there was even more delicate than that of her hand, but she was already too far-gone in her tiredness to respond. With a final deep sigh, Mari fell into a deep sleep, still feeling the lingering tingle of Lo'gan's lips on her skin.

Lo'gan watched her fade away with a tenderness he never thought he possessed. It constricted his heart and made him almost dizzy with implication. It was stronger than his physical need for her and even challenged his ironclad rule of never sleeping alongside someone else. But that was exactly what he had done and shifting Mari slightly in his arms so that he could snuff out the light by the bed, Lo'gan pulled at the sheets that served as a coverlet and tucked it over their bodies to block out the chill filtering through the open window.

Finally bringing his head close to Mari's so that he could smell the myrrh that was washed into her hair, Lo'gan eventually welcomed sleep, content that he was keeping Mari safe and that she trusted him enough to welcome him into her bed. Resuming the slight rubbing of her injured hand, Lo'gan stared at Mari's peaceful features until he himself slipped away into unconsciousness and the familiar landscapes of his nightmares.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Moving his gaze from one cluster of twinkling stars to another, Lo'gan swept the night sky with an evaluating look that missed nothing. There was a new moon, making the night darker than usual, but having all the luminance he needed from the stars themselves, Lo'gan turned the information he was gathering and compared it to previous experiences in his mind. He knew something was coming. He wasn't sure what yet, but standing in the typical desert dweller stance with both hands clasped firmly behind his back, Lo'gan mused and pondered, too engrossed in the odd patterns he felt in the wind to notice the growing movement around him.

---

It always started out subtly. A ripple in the sand here and a shifting of a dune there, that given enough time grew to be so much more. Completely oblivious to the shifting sands, Lo'gan continued to watch for changes in the sky, all the while ignoring the changes that were occurring under his very own feet. The dunes were awakening, slowly changing from a thing that was lifeless to a thing that bristled with a consciousness that can only be described as life itself. This fuel was an ancient one, an awareness as old as time that lived in everything of substance. It was fleeting and dormant in most things, but so very full of life when it was commanded to be. When the order came, it breathed realization into all that was nature and twisting with life, the very earth itself hummed with purpose.

And the purpose was clear now. As it reawakened, the desert sands turned to look at the lone man standing in its midst. He belonged to that supreme category of living things that had will of their own, that walked the earth as they wished and detailed their lives as they saw fit. One of the creatures lucky enough to posses so much life that they needed not to be awakened to fulfill their purpose, for that had happened from the instant they were conceived. Only this one was unique among the will-bearers.

Occasionally there would be one gifted with the unique blend of peace and disquiet, temperance and solitude, love and rage that allowed for a glimpse at the grand order of things. These individuals lived in a dichotomy not dissimilar to that of the grand life force itself, for even it was a balance of the two things: disruptive and soothing, selfish and all-giving, horrible and beautiful. They could faintly see the patterns in nature that seemed so random to everything else; the patterns that only those with insight could see, the patterns that regulated everything, the patterns that allowed a tiny little world among so many to brim with life, the patterns that held the secrets to the oldest struggle known to anything alive: the battle of good vs. evil.

Surging with intent that came too fleetingly, the desert sands began to move in earnest now. They simmered and twisted, setting alive everything around them and coiling closer and closer to the target. It was their nightly ritual to try and reach him. True, they breached him every single time, engulfing him in their unstoppable power, but still they were short on their mission. He had yet to brake; yet to see what no one else could, but he was so close. After some thirty-odd years of nightly prompting, it knew he was almost there. It was only a matter of time before he was primed, before he was ready, before he could see. Until then, they had to step up their trappings, step up their nudging of what he already knew instinctively. The precarious balance of things was counting on it.

Gathering strength as it closed in on its target, the desert hoped it would all end soon. He had found a kindred spirit and that was always a promising sign. He would fight for what he loved and in the grand scheme of things that was all that mattered. Finally completely awake, the desert sands closed in for the kill and descended on the one.

---

Lo'gan broke from his swirling thoughts when his entire body pitched forward in a painful pull. Too busy with his contemplation of the night sky, he had yet again failed to learn the lesson that had eluded him for so long: never turn your back on the sands. They were alive now, hungry and fast and wanting nothing but to break him. Trying to right himself despite the knee deep well of sand he was now trapped in, Lo'gan began his frantic digging.

Cupping his large hands, he attacked the sand that was engulfing him with all his strength. He scooped out handfuls and tried to move, bucking against the strength that held him in place and was slowly pulling him under. But the onslaught was relentless and another element was beginning its conspiracy against him. It was the wind and lashing Lo'gan's bare skin unmercifully with stinging sand, it obscured his sight and made his torture even more pronounced. Already the sand was around his waist and bracing against the inevitable crush on his breathing that always accompanied this part, Lo'gan increased his flailing against the encroaching sand. But it was pretty much a lost battle by then.

In a matter of minutes, he was chest deep in the swirling sand and a minute after that, the unconscious portion of Lo'gan's mind braced for the inevitable. In a final swoop, the sand lunged for his neck and throat and turning to face up towards the now indistinguishable sky, Lo'gan let out his characteristic last defense against the onslaught. With a primal scream full of terror, Lo'gan surrendered his control just as the gravelly sand filled his mouth and swallowed him completely.

Only it wasn't the end this time. Typically, the scream meant things faded to black and in the black he would find her, the only thing that made the entire ordeal worth it. She had a name now - Mari. But this time, the sand did not let go and the black did not come in to take its place. He was still fighting and struggling as it moved and shifted all around him. It was everywhere; in his eyes, mouth, ears, rubbing his skin raw and blocking out all of his senses and even his thoughts. Suspended in the rough palpable mass, Lo'gan felt his sanity slipping. He couldn't breathe and try as he might to fight his attacker, it was a losing battle. Choking and twisting in the monster that was trying to consume him, Lo'gan sent out a final, desperate plea to the conscious parts of his mind to try and wake up.

---

Mari had been dreaming of rolling hills and fresh evergreens when Lo'gan started moving at her side. At first she ignored it, pulling her coverlet tighter under her chin and trying not to let go of the green hills around her. But then the movements became jerky and she could hear mumbling as she stepped over stones that lead into the rushing stream that once served as her family's water source. Stopping in her exploration of how far she could go in without wetting her deerskin boots, Mari frowned in her sleep and muttered for Danea to stop fussing. The grumbling she heard echoing over the twitter of birds and rushing water stopped momentarily and satisfied, Mari resumed her game.

She took a few more steps over the rocks and just then a strong wind blew through her hair. It was not very chilly since summer was still fading away, but it did manage to unanchor the first leaves that signaled fall in the Battavian Mountains. Giggling brightly, Mari moved to catch the flutter of leaves that brushed past her. There was something odd about them, but clutching at them happily, Mari ignored her observation as she balanced herself precariously on a wet stone. Holding the cluster of leaves to her rough smock, Mari finished her last few leaps past the stones and triumphantly stepped onto the other shore of the stream. Laughing at the way she knew Danea would be pouting that she got left behind yet again, Mari swung around to tease her sister……only their was no one there. Mari looked up and down the stream in growing apprehension, hoping that Danea was just upset and pouting on a log, but she found nothing. Crushing the crisp leaves in her hands, Mari tried calling out to her.

"Danea!! Danea!! I was just playing. Where are you??"

Mari looked downstream again and hearing nothing decided that something was wrong. Despite having run through those forests her entire life, Danea was very afraid of being alone in them. She would never stray far, no matter how upset she was and dropping the leaves she held, Mari dashed across the stream rocks again, desperately calling for her sister. In her rush, she failed to see that the leaves she had been clutching were not leaves at all. They were curved paisleys, identical to the dark brown designs that were now bleeding through her pale skin to magically cover her body.

Tripping once and almost losing her balance, Mari continued screaming for her sister as she crossed the stream that seemed to go on forever. Keeping her sights on the other bank, Mari leapt over rocks for an eternity until it finally dawned on her that she was not moving any closer to her destination. Scared beyond comprehension, Mari started crying. And then things changed.

The clear, blue sky darkened with black smoke and in the distance, she could make out an approaching sound. It was an army, she knew that with certainty and sobbing harder, Mari kept up her pointless run across the stream rocks, strangely wondering if the army wore red and gold or royal blue. The thought that it could be both was terrifying and knowing that her father was nearby and that Danea had to get away, Mari tried running faster. Desperate that she was going nowhere fast, she eventually stopped in the middle of the stream in exhaustion and bringing her hands over her ears to block out the churning noise, called for her sister again.

"Danea! Danea!"

She listened and instead of hearing the scared voice of her younger sister in response, what she heard instead was a guttural scream that could only belong to a man. It seemed to fill her entire world and petrified, Mari spun around and round to see where it came from, but what she saw was a blur. Her sudden movement had made her lose her balance and she was now falling. Unlike her running so far, the fall was frighteningly fast and bracing herself against the inevitable splash, Mari instead felt her body jerk against something soft.

---

Scrambling up from the bed, Mari almost choked when she opened her eyes and saw nothing but the dark room she had fallen asleep in. It took a long second for her to realize where she was but it all came back soon enough. She was in Arabia and the body next to hers was not her sister's. It was the dark Bedouin. Lo'gan. Lo'gan was his name, and he was having one hell of a nightmare.

Blinking in the faint light of the quickly disappearing moon and moving cautiously back to his side, Mari debated over what to do. It was an old Battavian superstition that it was a bad thing to wake someone from a dream, but watching Lo'gan struggle against an invisible enemy and his body glisten with a light sheen of sweat, Mari decided to forgo superstition and for once go on instinct. With a cautious hand, Mari reached out for the Jabir. Still not really sure if she should touch him, her hand hovered by his shoulder while she called out to him in a whisper, her own body still trembling slightly from the nightmare she had been trapped in just moments ago.

"Lo'gan? Umm, Lo'gan?"

Clearing his throat of the residual feel of sand, Lo'gan faintly heard his name called and knew he was not alone. Angered that he had fallen captive to the swirling desert yet again and that the dream had somehow again veered off into unknown territories, Lo'gan blindly reached out to his only consolation. He yanked at the presence he felt by him and in a deft movement, flipped around so that he was over her and he could finally touch what he needed so desperately, or what was his, his most primitive mind corrected.

Mari yelped in surprise and with little choice in the matter barely had time to brace against Lo'gan as he pushed forward to press his lips to her neck. With one hand on her hip and another threaded in her hair, Lo'gan buried himself in Mari's scent as he tried to gather his composure over the especially brutal dream he had just had. Mari gasped at how swiftly she found herself overwhelmed and ignoring the delectable tingling from where Lo'gan's lips were connected to her skin, tried to push him away. This was the thing that brought Lo'gan's senses back up on full alert. Mari was struggling under him and that had never happened before. Remembering the palace, the beach and later falling asleep by Mari's side, it suddenly dawned on Lo'gan that he was no longer dreaming.

His own final scream still reverberating in his head, Lo'gan blinked against the imaginary sand that still filled his eyes and pulled back with a start. Instead of finding clear green eyes looking straight through him with unabashed lust he instead found worried ones.

"Mari……I……you……"

With a final push upwards, Lo'gan bounded off the bed and tried to make it to the door, his head still swimming with all it had just undergone. But failing to see the edge of the rug curled on the floor, Lo'gan tripped and came down to the carpet on his knees before he could run out. Forgetting everything that had just happened, Mari jumped to Lo'gan's side, knowing whatever had occurred to him in his dream, still had a firm grip over his heart. Holding his head with two hands, Lo'gan rocking back and forth and mumbling something that even if she couldn't comprehend, Mari knew to be nonsense words, tried to forget the sound of sand roaring all around him. She didn't think it was possible having seen him in action all day long, but Lo'gan was terrified.

Kneeling close to his side, Mari thought about how to approach Lo'gan and opting for the direct approach, placed her hands over his. Taking his hands slowly away from his temples, Mari tried calling to him.

"Lo'gan? Lo'gan, okay?"

Still panting from the lingering feeling of being crushed alive and swallowed whole, Lo'gan tried to focus on Mari's voice. She was close and concerned for him and……and reaching for him. Fighting all that screamed in him to avoid being vulnerable in someone else's embrace, Lo'gan inched closer to her and allowed himself to be gathered into Mari's arms. She was safe and pressed against her warm pliable body Lo'gan finally felt the roar of the sandstorm he was churning in disappear. After a long moment all that was left were her soft words and a few minutes after that it occurred to Lo'gan that they were in Bedouin.

Bolting straight up from where he was leaning against her chest, Lo'gan looked into Mari's face just as she was explaining about shells and Nayif and how the stallion might think prickly pears were good. A flash of something filtered through Lo'gan's eyes and suddenly self conscious, Mari stopped her broken ranting and just stared at the man she had just cradled like a baby on the floor for a good twenty minutes. He really didn't look that helpless anymore and diverting her gaze from his bare chest, Mari wondered how exactly she was going to get up without appearing as awkward as she felt.

Lo'gan read her intent and reaching out to hold her by her shoulders, thought hard of something to say. He was absolutely, positively no good at dealing with people and was more than a little embarrassed but she deserved……something in response.

"I…………Nayif likes pomegranates better. Pomegranates."

Mari snapped her gaze back to Lo'gan and tried out the word for lack of anything else to do.

"Po-me-graa-netes. Pomegranates good?"

Lo'gan nodded with a slight smirk, amazed that Mari caught onto what he was saying so quickly, and awfully glad that she did.

"Yes, they are."

Not sure if he was amused at her or her lousy pronunciation, Mari let a shy smile escape her too before asking what was really on her mind.

"Lo'gan okay?"

Lo'gan's smile faded and he took a minute to think over his answer. He wanted to tell her. The urge was unbelievable strong. Of course his mother and father knew, since they had been dealing with his nightmares since childhood, but other than them, he had never willingly told anyone else. They were his private torture, something that spoke too much of himself to allow anyone else to know, but somehow Mari was different. He wanted her to know, especially since she had been a part of them in the past few weeks. Lo'gan smiled at that. She had become part of him, part of his dreams and so she needed to know. Only ironically enough, he didn't know how to tell her. Deciding it had to wait a little longer or at least until they were communicating a little better, Lo'gan opted for the short answer.

"Yeah……thank you, Mari."

Satisfied that she understood every word Lo'gan spoke, Mari's smile widened and she finally moved to stand up from the carpet, bracelets tinkling a little as she moved.

"Good. It good."

Remembering that he was still on the floor too, Lo'gan got up also, nervously hoping that Mari wasn't upset over how he grabbed her earlier. But she seemed okay. He watched as she walked over to the window and looked out. He himself followed her gaze and remembering their plan, Lo'gan walked up behind her to check on how much time they had. Without acknowledging him, Mari pointed past the countless stone houses lining the curving Ma'in streets to the tall palace on the cliff in the distance. Even in the darkest point before sunrise, the palace's alabaster walls glimmered and Mari couldn't help but shudder.

Wanting to offer some of the support she had just shown him, Lo'gan placed a hand on Mari's shoulders and kissed the top of her head chastely. Like he had done during their ride on Nayif the night before, Lo'gan then casually crossed an arm over her stomach to rest on her hip. It was a bold move on his part, but he figured they had shared enough to have it. Mari understood the gesture perfectly and with a deep sigh, leaned back into his chest.

Together they contemplated the journey they had taken so far and wondered what else was in store. Mari eventually brought her hand to rest over Lo'gan's at her waist and remembering Harabi's warning, Lo'gan carefully constructed a question in his mind. When he was finally able to bring it to words, he watchfully gripped Mari's waist and slowly turned her around so that she was against the window frame and facing him. Mari watched with curiosity as Lo'gan took a deep breath and began his much thought out question in a low steady voice. It was clear that she was still tired, having slept only a few hours and to top it off waken up to his hollering, but it was imperative that they leave soon and he had to know now.

"Mari, I have to ask you a question."

Mari nodded, having understood the first and last words.

"Question."

"Yeah, umm, we……"

Mari raised an eyebrow and Lo'gan started again.

"Harabi and me, we are going away, back home."

"Home? Harabi?"

Lo'gan took a deep breath and tried again.

"To the desert. You know desert. You said it earlier. We're……"

Mari perked up and quickly responded.

"Rub al-Khali?"

Lo'gan's lips quirked into a half smile and he quickly agreed.

"Yes, Rub al Khali, that's my home." Taking the hand he had lovingly held in his until his struggle with the desert began, Lo'gan pressed it to his chest. "Home. The Rub al-Khali is my home."

Mari cocked her head slightly and furrowed her brows, the sign that she was busy translating. Lo'gan waited and watched with his heart in his stomach as she mused over the concept. She knew the al-Khali was the land she had crossed with Battam and his people. She also knew with certainty that her rescuers were desert dwellers. So maybe that was where they were going. Perhaps that was what `home' meant.

"Harabi, Nayif, Lo'gan, home……desert?"

Lo'gan smiled and nodded quickly, unconsciously taking a step closer to Mari. Mari nudged back slightly, not really minding that Lo'gan was as close as he was but very unsure of what was going on. Apparently it was important that she understood this and so far she had.

"Yeah, Mari, our home is the desert. The Rub al-Khali."

He paused and Mari's smile withered a little as it became clear that he was going to add something that may not be that good. Her own insane fear of perhaps being taken back into slavery crossed her mind and swallowing tightly, Mari gripped the edge of the sill she was against and braced for the worst.

"And I, well……I need to know if that's where you…Mari…want to be."

He said it all in a rush and not having understood any of it, Mari looked at him blankly. Sighing and reaching for her shoulders, Lo'gan began again; trying to remember the words that Mari already knew how to use.

"Umm, do you, Mari," He pointed at her to make sure she followed him, "want to come with me, Lo'gan, to my home? Home."

Lo'gan watched Mari's face without breathing as she carefully processed the concept. After what seemed like an eternity, Mari spoke up, voice full of emotion and something else he could not identify.

"Lo'gan desert home? Mari and Lo'gan?"

Lo'gan nodded solemnly, already assuming by the strain in Mari's voice and the way she immediately looked away that she was not liking the idea at all. With a knot in his throat, Lo'gan dropped his hands from her shoulders and took a step back from her. Unable to speak at all, Mari brought a hand to her forehead. Lo'gan watched her shake her head a little and fumble with her words, but too disappointed to help her out, he stood numbly apart from her until a knock at the door startled them both.

Grateful for the interruption, Mari turned back to the window again, wanting anything but Lo'gan's gaze burning through her. Gripping the edge of the window firmly, she closed her eyes to think about what he had just asked her. She must have misunderstood. He must have meant something else. Giving up on explanations, Mari brought the hand Lo'gan had rubbed last night to the cuff on her arm and sighed into the night air.

Lo'gan stood in place a short while longer and seeing that Mari was not going to respond, dejectedly turned and stomped to the door, practically yanking it off its hinges when he swung it open. It was Harabi, looking rumpled and groggy, but on time at least. Giving Mari one last forlorn look, Lo'gan swallowed his hurt and stepped out into the hallway to confer with his partner, closing the door behind himself and trying hard to ignore the devious little voice in his head that laughed at his assumption that someone like Mari could ever want to be with someone like him.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan crossed the hallway to their room with slow, deliberate steps, dreading having to go back to face Mari and his stupid little display earlier. He had made arrangements with Harabi to leave in a half hour before the sun rose, but having made all the preparations already, he still needed to walk back to that room and somehow……face reality.

It was clear that Mari did not want to go with him, he didn't need to hear it to know, but for the time being she was still his responsibility. Looking down at the dress he hastily picked out of Miznih's store in his hands, Lo'gan clenched his jaw and leaned his forehead on the door that they had snuck into the previous night. It was green. Not as pretty as her eyes, but close. She would look amazing in it. Remembering the green silk she wore when he first spotted her crying silently in a golden cage, high over a crowd, Lo'gan swallowed the lump in his throat and with all the resolve he had left, pushed open the door.

Despite everything, they had little time to get moving and he had to put aside his disappointment if he was going to get them out of Ma'in alive. Stepping inside with the most neutral look he could muster, Lo'gan spoke out levelly.

"Mari, we have to le……"

Lo'gan stopped mid-sentence when he realized the room was empty. Turning to where Mari had hung her anabbayah the night before and seeing that it was gone, Lo'gan dropped what he was holding and ran to the window, hoping against hope that Mari hadn't decided to run. Seeing nothing but an empty alleyway in either direction, Lo'gan quickly responded to the rush of adrenaline that washed over him and ran out the room, not caring if he woke up every single one of Miznih's patrons in order to find her. His first stop was Miznih's room, where Harabi was still explaining the marks on his back as fight wounds to her.

"Get the hell up Dawasir, she's gone! I'm going after her, but you stick to the plan and get out. I'll catch up to you."

Pulling on his pants hastily, Harabi hopped after Lo'gan in utter confusion while Miznih rolled her eyes and ran after them both. By the time she reached them, Lo'gan was already practically out the back door and seeing that she wasn't going to be heard past his growling and Harabi's stupid questions, Miznih placed her two index fingers in her mouth and with a deep breath caught both their attention with an ear splitting whistle loud enough to stir some of her customers on the second floor. Irate beyond belief and still calculating that Mari had only a ten-minute head start, Lo'gan swung around to face Miznih's suddenly nervous expression and growled out.

"What??"

Miznih snorted and crossed her arms, trying unsuccessfully not to look as scared of Lo'gan as she felt.

"She's on the roof, genius. Snuck up there while you were busy talking to your horse. Maybe if you'd paid some attent……hey!"

Lo'gan brusquely stomped past Miznih and taking two steps at a time, climbed the stairs that he had taken that last time he had slept under the stars. Harabi and Miznih watched him go with annoyed expressions and simultaneously thinking the same thing a second later, raced back to their room, grateful at least for another little drama delay in their departure.

By the time Lo'gan reached Miznih's rooftop, however, the last thing on his mind was their escape plan. Looking around frantically, he took all of two seconds before spotting a small hooded figure leaning against the half wall facing the ocean. Clenching his fists tightly, Lo'gan walked in that direction, relief and anger warring to dominate his features. It was still very dark out and deathly quiet, but lost in her thoughts, Mari didn't feel Lo'gan's footsteps until they were practically behind her. Spinning around to catch Lo'gan almost about to touch her, Mari jumped.

Lo'gan paused at that, his hand just inches from where he was going to turn her around. It hovered there for a few seconds as Mari and Lo'gan contemplated each other under the Ma'in sky. Lo'gan bore into Mari's shocked eyes with his angry ones and slowly both softened into something similar to regret. All the resolve Mari had to tell Lo'gan `no' vanished just as quickly as Lo'gan's anger at almost having lost her and speechless, both looked at the other with no clue as to how to put what they felt into words.

Eventually it was Lo'gan that moved in the stalemate as he finished extending his hand and finally reached out to cup Mari's face. Mari stared at the uncertainty in Lo'gan's features as he inched closer to her, slowly approaching with a look that she would never have guessed belonged to him. Closing her eyes when he finally reached her, the tears that wanted to fall all the time she was thinking on the roof, finally rolled down her cheeks. Lo'gan's heart turned at seeing that and hoping that what he was reading on her features was right and that she really didn't want to leave him, he cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Mari."

Mari looked down as the thumb by her cheek started rubbing light circles into her skin and ordered herself not to cry. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to explain, but there was no way to really say it. Lo'gan watched her struggle with her tears for endless minutes and feeling the same frustration that she did, gently pulled her to him. Her cloak fell back with the movement and happy that he was at least buried in her fragrant hair once again, Lo'gan kissed the silky locks adoringly as they embraced.

Mari felt the gesture and taking in a deep breath to steady her crying, circled her arms tightly around Lo'gan's neck. Lo'gan squeezed a little tighter also before letting go. He had come to a decision and he needed to get it all out before he was tempted to just keep her there forever. Feeling that he wanted to speak, Mari pulled back too. Sniffling slightly, she blushed when Lo'gan took the edge of his robe sleeves and tenderly wiped at her face. He waited until she was looking up at him before beginning.

"Mari, we have to leave soon. I……I know you probably can't understand this, but we still have to move into the desert. You come from the north, so after I rendezvous with my clan, I'll take you to traders who go past the An Nafud."

Mari swallowed and backed away from Lo'gan a small step to get a better look at his face. She didn't catch most of what Lo'gan had said, but she did understand the name of the first desert land she had crossed. The An Nafud led to the giant sea that Battam and her crossed by boat and just after that were the Roman trails that led home. Mari gasped at the thought and Lo'gan stopped breathing, feeling absolutely miserable that she looked so happy. Her mind swimming with just how close it all felt, Mari finally spoke out in a small voice.

"Mari's home? Mari's……clan?"

Closing his eyes at the last word, Lo'gan nodded. In his rush to resentment he hadn't really considered that possibility. She was unique among Arabians, but Mari had come from someplace. She had had friends and a family, probably a whole lot of people, all sharing her fair skin and clear eyes. People that spoke her language and understood and knew all about her.

Stomach queasy with the realization that she would never need him like she needed them, Lo'gan finally did look up, ashamed that he had never even thought that Mari had a clan of her own to return to instead of just automatically staying with him. Cursing the fate that had brought her into his dreams and into his heart at all just to take her away again, Lo'gan nodded in agreement, mentally beginning the process of losing her before he ever really had her to begin with.

"Yes, Mari. I'll make sure you go home to your family……Mari's home……I promise you."

Mari blinked, letting a giant tear roll down her face all the while touching the map cuff on her arm, the last connection she had left to the home she once shared with everyone she loved. At least he understood. In a way she knew if anyone would, Lo'gan would. He was the kindest, bravest person she had ever met and somehow deep down in her heart, she knew he could lead her to Danea again. Crying through a radiant smile, Mari rushed forward to Lo'gan and pressed her head against his bare chest, tears now full of relief as well as loss.

"Thank you, Lo'gan. Good."

Lo'gan closed his eyes as he felt his restraint dissolve to nothing. Settling her head under his chin, he muttered something Mari knew was a thank you of his own. Happy that he at least understood, Mari circled her arms around his neck and held on with all she had, dreams of finding her home again brighter than ever.

Lo'gan held onto Mari with just as much fervor, content that she would be with him at least a little bit longer, at least until she had to move on. That was a thousand times better than the feeling he had when he walked into the room and found her gone. At least he would make her happy. He would take her home.

Feeling better now that his decision was made, Lo'gan brought his hands to cup Mari's head again. Pressing his face into her fragrant hair, Lo'gan breathed in deeply. It was a scent he could already make out anywhere and wanting to feel more of it, he moved to loosely thread his hands down the silky locks. Seemingly of a mind all their own, his hands continued skimming on down her back and eventually settled on either side of her hips.

Feeling the slow drag of his hands down her back through the thin cloak and even thinner robe she was wearing, Mari looked up slowly. She met Lo'gan's eyes with a soft curiosity and hypnotized by their sparkle, Lo'gan squeezed at her waist and pulled her just a slight bit closer to him. Mari felt the air between them change and flickering her gaze between his eyes and his lips, stopped breathing when it became apparent that he was going to kiss her.

Watching her face intently for the slightest sign that he shouldn't, Lo'gan let the part of him addicted to the feel of Mari in his arms every night overtake him. Not stopping his kneading of Mari's hips, Lo'gan leaned forward to her in minute increments until his lips were barely touching hers. He felt her gasp then, but too far gone to go back, Lo'gan finished his journey and finally pressed into her.

Like his dreams, Mari tasted just as sweet and felt just as soft. Only the kiss they shared now was more intense than any of his dreams could ever be. At first, he simply pressed onto her, still feeling the texture of her skin and her willingness to touch him back, but then their kiss turned more heated as he smoothed his tongue over her lips and eventually as he pried her mouth open to his.

Lost in the exquisite sensation that he produced in her, Mari moaned slightly into Lo'gan's mouth, needing desperately to breathe, but unwilling to pull away from his tortuous ministrations. She had never been kissed before and knowing what little she did on the matter left her completely unprepared to what she was feeling now. Lo'gan was setting her on fire, spreading a tingling heat from her lips down to her very toes. Somehow she knew it would be like this. Lo'gan didn't do anything half way and in his furious, almost desperate hold on her, Mari glimpsed not just into his passion but his very essence. Needing a better hold against Lo'gan's assault on her senses, Mari reached up to clutch his hair, taking handfuls of the dark strands in her small hands.

Lo'gan grunted at Mari's take on him and knowing she was faltering in his arms, dove into her even tighter instead of letting go. He swept her tongue and ravished her lips feverently, afraid that if he let go for just an instant, she would vanish like she did in his dreams. His rational mind knew that was impossible but there was no reasoning with his heart. She was his for now and he would hold on for as long as he could. He continued to kiss her with all he had in him and minutes later when they finally pulled away and looked at each other under the now moonless sky, the only things that existed in the whole world was each other. In her wide eyes and warm panting breath against him, Lo'gan saw what made Mari a survivor and in the intense, tight feel of his body against her, Mari understood the fighter that was Lo'gan.

Lo'gan had never been one to even consider women. They commanded his courtesy and consideration, but never his time and certainly not his affection. It was simpler not to even notice or care, but Mari of course was different and not just in her appearance. Her eyes held a depth and mystery that called to his most primal needs and since meeting her, Lo'gan could barely stand not having her within arm's reach.

Mari knew this and wary as she was about being around him, the dark Bedouin held just as much pull to her as she did to him. All her life Mari watched her father and uncle come back from campaign after campaign with more scars and less life to show for it. Mari had learned to hate the warrior life, for it never provided security or safety and yet ironically that is all she felt from Lo'gan. He was what her uncle called a born fighter but his tenderness and compassion seemed limitless. It was intoxicating to be in his gaze and pressed against him, Mari didn't know how to feel over their situation. Having Lo'gan finally break their gaze and gently press into her neck next, however, made the dilemma vanish as her mind snapped back to the pleasure of his lips on her skin.

Mari's warm panting doing nothing to relieve the unbearable tightness in his groin, Lo'gan placed one of his hands to the back of Mari's neck to draw her even further into him. Mari let out a small moan in response and braced herself against the grate of stubble that prickled her skin as they resumed their caressing. Kissing spots up and around her necklaces, Lo'gan felt his body awakening to the fact that Mari was responding to him. He looked up from where he was nuzzling her neck and grinned wolfishly when he saw Mari's eyes closed to savor the feel of his hands. The move cause Mari to break the soft rubbing of his scalp and blink up at him, but Lo'gan was grateful, for now her haunting eyes were fully on his again and what he saw there was more than encouraging.

Letting out a shaky breath, Lo'gan mouthed Mari's name and brought her into a kiss again, only this time he scooted down just a little before lifting her up off the floor. Mari gasped and held onto his shoulders, but too flustered to remember how to speak, continued to stare into Lo'gan's dark eyes as he slowly walked them to the slight incline draping over the south face of the roof. Backing her up as much as possible, Lo'gan then lowered Mari down onto the stone incline and settled before her.

In a surreal moment when all they could hear was each other's heavy breathing, Mari and Lo'gan contemplated each other. Mari took in the dark skin pulled taut over well-developed muscles and Lo'gan, the dips and valleys draped by dark fabric that constituted his green-eyed girl. Catching a twinkle in the meshy fabric that his imagination told him was a ring on her breast, Lo'gan huffed and in a painfully slow move, pulled open the outer cloak that obscured her from him.

Mari's eyes widened as he took a step into her that spread her legs and brought him flush against her core, but before she could protest, he had descended back down on her neck again, kissing and nipping at random spots over her heated skin. This time his hands did not rest, moving urgently over every inch of her. Breathing in shallow pants, Mari looked down at Lo'gan's body arched over hers and with a slight frown breathed out his name in a shudder.

"Lo'gan."

The Jabir warrior smiled slightly at that and determined to find out once and for all just how deep Mari's blush ran, moved his hands up from her waist to where her breasts were waiting for him. Once there, Lo'gan paused, wanting Mari totally cognizant of what was happening. Cradling her face gently with one hand, Lo'gan pulled back for a second and waited until Mari opened her eyes to him before moving again. Starting at her shoulder, he slipped his hand under the teal robe and slowly slid it down to where he knew a little surprise awaited him.

Not taking his dark eyes off her light ones, Lo'gan kneaded the bare flesh firmly in his hands and was rewarded with a half gasp, half moan from Mari's reddening lips that made his blood boil. Overwhelmed with feeling, Mari closed her eyes when she felt the callused hands pinch her. Letting out a faint grunt of approval, Lo'gan brought the hand that was still cradling Mari's face to the junction of her robe and together parted the fabric. What he found made his throat go dry and suddenly very self-conscious, Mari snapped her gaze back to him imploringly.

"Lo'gan?"

Lo'gan somehow managed to catch her hands before she moved to cover herself and running his tongue along his bottom lip answered her back in an equally breathless manner.

"Mari, darling, you're so beautiful."

Pinning her hands together high above her head, Lo'gan then moved his lips down to the gold ring that circled Mari's left nipple. The flesh under his lips immediately tightened and opening his mouth, Lo'gan took the entire tip into his mouth, suckling gently on her breast. Mari moaned loudly under his assault, her skin still sensitive from the piercing only a few days old. Feeling Mari squirm against his kisses, Lo'gan grumbled in primal satisfaction and moved to other parts of her full breasts. Mari's writhing eventually led him to let go of her hands and clutch her creamy mounds instead. They were crossed with hennaed designs and countless gold necklaces, but the pale skin was almost luminescent in the dark.

Her hands now freed, Mari found Lo'gan's hair again and clutching the black locks in her hands tightly, held on as he flickered his tongue over her mercilessly. The heat that twisted around in her stomach eventually trickled down to her core, where Lo'gan's hips had begun grinding into her. She hadn't been aware of it earlier, but she clearly felt his erection now. It was hot and pressing and the implication flustered her enough to shift back from Lo'gan's caressing. Feeling her hesitation, Lo'gan paused, quickly moved up over Mari's body and asked a question to her in a whisper.

"What's wrong, darling?"

Snapped back into herself, Mari smiled shyly at the man still rubbing circles into her breasts under her robe. The act made it hard for her to think and knowing what effect it was having on her Lo'gan smiled mischievously. He knew at some point she would hesitate. She blushed more than anybody he had ever met and it would have actually disappointed him if she hadn't. He watched as she fidgeted slightly and tried to close her legs a little. That alerted him to the fact that he had still to run his hands over Mari's legs, something he had thought of often during their ride across the beach. Bringing a hand over to a diamond starburst pattern sketched on her thigh, Lo'gan began rubbing the skin there softly. Mari startled a little but kept in place giving Lo'gan all the incentive he needed to forget he asked a question and start kissing small places around her face again.

Moaning slightly in response to Lo'gan's labored breathing at her ear, Mari grasped Lo'gan's shoulders and smiled at the rough feel of his stubble tickling her neck and jaw. Lo'gan felt her smile against his forehead and remembering how delicious her lips tasted just a few minutes before, tightened his hold on her and moved his lips over hers again. Mari arched into the kiss and lost in each other's arms once again, Mari and Lo'gan did not notice Harabi come up from the stairs until he cleared his throat loudly for the second time.

"Umm, hello?"

Leaping off Mari with a growl, Lo'gan glared at the Dawasir while Mari quickly clutched her robe shut.

"What is it??"

The goofy grin Harabi was wearing as a result of having caught Lo'gan with his pants down – almost, was gone immediately.

"I, ahh, I though……it's getting late."

Lo'gan pulled at the sash around his waist and looking back to see that Mari had turned around to readjust her robes, looked up at the sky. It was true that it was late and it was careless of him to have abandoned the plan so easily, but they had time and well, he had better things to do.

"We can make it if we leave right now."

Harabi nodded, fighting every natural born impulse in his body to glance at Mari in the background. Lo'gan seemed to have read his thoughts, however, because he stepped forward and growled out.

"Now."

Harabi opened his eyes wide and figuring he needed his organs intact if he was ever going to visit Miznih again, quickly nodded and half ran back where he came from.

"Sure thing Lo'gan. Umm, the horses are suited up already………uhh…bye."

Lo'gan waited until Harabi had squirreled out of sight and he had calmed down a bit before turning around to face Mari. She was apparently watching him, but diverted her gaze down as soon as he turned around and quickly stood up. Lo'gan watched her try and disappear into her cloak and cursing time for never cutting them a break, grabbed at her hand before she had a chance to walk by him. Pulling her slowly, he brought her toe-to-toe with him and then raised her chin with a finger.

"You okay?"

Mari colored brightly and not able to suppress her wry smile, nodded bashfully.

"Mari okay……good."

Lo'gan snorted at her choice in words and fighting the urge to abandon the plan altogether and carry her back to the room and finish what they started, kissed the top of her head and gave her a loose hug.

"Fine. Then we have to leave now."

Mari nodded against Lo'gan's chest. While she had been watching Lo'gan, something had occurred to her. Lo'gan needed her. Just as much as much as she needed to find Danea, visit her father's gravesite, and see Valeria again. The thought was even more staggering as it dawned on her that she needed him too. Rubbing her cheek slightly on the course hairs that covered Lo'gan's chest, Mari wondered why she had allowed the dark Bedouin into her heart. It would only make things more complicated, but they needed each other and for now that would have to suffice. Shuddering slightly in a sudden wind that whipped her hair around her, Mari clutched at her robe and looked up at Lo'gan who in turn smiled down at her. Admitting that Harabi was right and they were dangerously close to being behind schedule, Lo'gan turned and led Mari to the stairs.

At the stairwell, Lo'gan took one last look at the sky and wondered if what he had been seeing for weeks would come to pass. It certainly looked that way by the dark clouds building over the ocean. Deciding it would have to wait until he was at least back in the desert to really contemplate, Lo'gan descended down the steps to join Mari who was waiting a few steps down. Without really looking at each other, Lo'gan and Mari walked down to their old room quietly to collect their things before leaving, each wondering why exactly it felt so right to be in the arms of a virtual stranger and whether it was worth it to fall for someone who they would eventually never see again.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Lo'gan and Mari descended down from the roof and made their way back to their room in thoughtful silence, but once they were inside, they moved quickly, knowing they had little time to beat the rising sun. Forgoing the need for light, Lo'gan went directly to where he had leaned his Khanjar against the wall, while Mari bent over and picked up the dress Lo'gan had dropped in the room in his rush to find her. Lo'gan watched out of the corner of his eye as she turned it thoughtfully in her hands. The look on her face told him he had made a good selection. She held it up to herself and he smiled as he began to quickly lace the leather straps of the blade's sheath to his thigh. Mari returned his smile and ventured a hopeful question.

"Mari anabbayah?"

Lo'gan moved to fit his square clothe headpiece on next, wishing they had stayed on the roof, exploring and touching, instead of running from an insane old woman like fugitives.

"Yeah, darling. It's yours."

Grateful that she finally had something decent to wear and pretty to boot, Mari quickly shrugged her outer cloak off. It was only when she reached the tie of her teal robe that she remembered that Lo'gan was watching her every move. Blushing furiously, Mari froze and smiled at Lo'gan. He understood perfectly but wondering why the heck he couldn't just see her change if they had been a step away from doing – stuff, he turned around and finished adjusting the blade at his thigh while facing the window.

Keeping a careful eye on Lo'gan's back, Mari quickly shrugged off her mesh robe and slipped her new dress over her head. Like most Bedouin dresses, it was held up by a knot over each of her shoulders, had sli sleeves billowing down her arms and fell into a straight line to her ankles. The skirt was split up her thighs to allow for movement and secured with a wide sash at her middle that offered support to her back and chest. It was a perfect fit and grabbing her cloak again, she called out to Lo'gan.

"Okay."

Lo'gan turned around, having secured his own clothing and weapons and watched quietly as Mari twirled around once in her brand new Miznih original.

"Perfect."

Mari wrinkled her nose, not sure if Lo'gan's serious expression meant that it was good or not.

"Perfect?"

Lo'gan saw the confusion in her eyes and clarified with a word they had covered extensively already.

"Beautiful."

Satisfied, Mari looked down at the intricate cutwork in the garment and nodded.

"Mm-hmm. Beautiful."

Feeling his resolve slip a little, Lo'gan walked to Mari and lifting her chin, kissed her lightly on the lips. It was a simple kiss, but just like the heated ones they had just shared, full of ardor and passion in its brevity nonetheless.

"I meant that you were perfect. Mari perfect."

Mari cocked her head to the side and weighted his words. Somehow, he sounded genuine when he said things like that, but she would never really get used to them. The conflict she felt earlier about leaving and staying with him came crashing back. On the roof she had made a decision, she was going home. For some reason that didn't seem quite as important as it once did but it was still the plan: find Danea, visit her father's grave, make sure Valeria was all right. Then Lo'gan absolutely floored her by offering to take her back home. She didn't think it was possible, but she believed him and there was no doubt in her mind that he would follow through on his promise. Only now she didn't really want to leave him. There was something about the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her and the way he looked at her that made her think that everything she ever wanted was right there with him.

Dropping her face from his hands, Mari smiled weakly at Lo'gan's flattering words and bent down to pick up the teal robe she no longer needed. Lo'gan watched her with growing uncertainty, the lightness in mood he had felt kissing her tender skin on the roof gone, to leave nothing but the assurance that it would all end more sooner than later. Snapped out of his thinking when Mari finally brought the hood of her cloak over her hair, Lo'gan wondered if he had overstepped his bounds. It wasn't fair that he ached to touch her so much and he hated himself for it. Adjusting his ghutra over his own long hair for his return trek into the desert, Logan opened the door and turned to face Mari.

"We have to leave now, Mari."

Mari nodded and placing the teal robe she folded, delicately on the bed walked out in what had become her characteristic posture: head down and hands tucked into her sleeves to help cover her light skin. Lo'gan winced a little at that. She didn't deserve this; to be an outcast and a curiosity for people to stare at. She deserved to be comfortable, secure and loved in the midst of others just like her. Only he knew no one would love her like he did. Of that he was sure. Tightening his fists and throwing one last look at the bed they had shared, Lo'gan closed the door behind them and stomped down the hall.

---

When Lo'gan and Mari arrived at the courtyard, Harabi and Miznih were locked in a goodbye kiss that they both awkwardly ignored as they walked to Nayif. To Mari's surprise the two stallions were already attached to two camels by a lead. This was not something she expected. Forgetting her agonizing decision for the moment, Mari moved to pet the lanky camels until Lo'gan called her to Nayif's saddle. The stallion snorted when he smelt Mari and offering a few greetings that Lo'gan could not understand, Mari rubbed his snout a little while the saddle was adjusted.

Like their escape from the palace, Logan figured that Mari should ride with him. It would save time and added weight and not to mention, keep her close to him. Lo'gan watched Mari's face carefully for any reaction to that, but seeing none, helped her over the horse. To his surprise, Mari took to it much easier than she had before. Even Mari noticed, and proud that she could at least mount properly, smiled at Lo'gan, who hurriedly took his place behind her. To her non-surprise, Lo'gan pressed himself flush against her and brought an arm around her waist, but Mari did not mind at all. Clutching the brunt of the saddle with two hands, she leaned into him and prayed that whatever Lo'gan was planning for an escape would work.

Lo'gan was hoping the same exact thing and turning Nayif in place, trotted over to where Harabi was still mumbling things into Miznih's ear. Clearing his throat impatiently, Lo'gan watched them move apart reluctantly. Mari smiled at the couple and feeling Lo'gan hesitate nervously at her back, looked up at him expectantly as he attempted what she knew was a good-bye.

"Uhh, I wanted to thank you for everything……"

The shopkeeper/madam raised her eyebrows with a smirk of surprise and tightened her shawl around herself.

"Miznih."

Lo'gan growled, embarrassed that he had forgotten her name.

"Yeah, Miznih……so thanks."

Miznih shrugged her shoulders and watched as Harabi mounted his horse.

"It was nothing. Please be careful." She met Harabi's eyes and her smile wavered a little. "All of you."

Lo'gan and Mari watched silently as something passed between Harabi and Miznih and feeling like an intruder, Lo'gan was about to pull Nayif away when a hand on his arm stopped him. Lo'gan looked down at Mari in surprise, who had extended a hand out to the other woman. More than a little surprised herself, Miznih walked up to Nayif and met Mari's pale hand. Mari smiled shyly and leaning over Nayif pressed into it what Lo'gan recognized as one of the bangles she had on earlier.

It had small clear yellow stones incrusted in the gold all around and was probably one of the most valuable of her ornaments. Mari said a shy thank you to the vibrant woman that she wished she had gotten to know better and offering a beaming smile in return, Miznih thanked her back. Pleased, Mari straightened out against Lo'gan and offered him a smile as well. Lo'gan squeezed her hip gently and with a last curt nod of gratitude to Miznih, led Nayif out of the courtyard and into the dark streets of Ma'in.

Harabi dawdled a few minutes longer, but eventually rode up to catch up to Lo'gan and Mari. Glancing back to see him sad, but focused, Lo'gan tapped his fist twice on his chest. Harabi did the same in response and together they entered into the second phase of their plan to hopefully get out of Ma'in alive.

Lo'gan was usually not a very emphatic person, but he knew that the Dawasir was sorry to go. For some reason, it didn't surprise him. Miznih seemed a compatible woman for Harabi. For a second he actually felt bad for them. He knew that what awaited them in the al Khali desert was not good and would get way worse before getting better. Tightening his grip on Mari's waist, Lo'gan scanned the narrow streets ahead of them. If Harabi were ever going to see his spitfire again, he would have to be on extra alert when things got ugly. And if there was one thing Lo'gan was sure of, was that things were definitely going to get ugly.

Focusing on the curve of streets that they were on, Lo'gan banished his pessimism away and let his well-honed sense of alertness move to the forefront. For now, there was a job to be done. In the predawn hour, the streets were deadly silent and there were none of the typical gamblers and drinkers than normally had that particular section of the city bustling with activity. The markets would not open for several hours and until then, they were pretty much traversing a ghost town. But experience told Lo'gan that that was not all. The royal guards would definitely be on the search for them at every gate in the city walls and they could not afford a hands on fight. Their best bet was to sneak through and for that they needed help.

Pulling ahead in a steady trot that the camels could follow easily, the three escapees moved through the most nondescript streets possible towards the outer camps on the fringes of the city. Still hidden from view by darkness, Mari watched the streets go by in growing anxiety. She was not an expert in running from the law, but she knew for a fact that she was their biggest problem.

Harabi and Lo'gan had chosen their clothes wisely, wearing robes that revealed no clan signatures and that looked like everyone else's in the region, but they could still be pegged as desert dwellers by their flat head cloths and she was no help whatsoever in that department. If a guard at the gates took one look at her, the three of them would be dead on the spot. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that she may be their only reason for recapture, Mari looked to the east, at the palace resting on the tallest cliff in the distance. Lo'gan felt her shift and frowning at what he knew was turning in her head, turned Mari's head around so that she was almost nose to nose with him.

"You'll be safe. You won't go back, Mari."

Mari blinked at the lips so close to hers. Of course Lo'gan would help her. It was a given. Nodding her head and clutching at the hand glued possessively to her hip, Mari searched the words she knew that meant confirmation. She came up with one that he had used when he first assured her he would take her home.

"Lo'gan promise?"

Lo'gan raised an eyebrow slowly, absolutely awed that Mari could already know so much of his speech.

"Yeah, Mari, I promise."

Mari let out a shaky smile and wishing for the thousandth time that he had the time to touch her like he wanted to, Lo'gan brought his lips to cover hers. Mari returned the kiss and tenderly tasting each other, Lo'gan and Mari stole a few seconds of time for just themselves. But the moment had to be cut short in their dire situation. Pulling on Nayif's reins to make a left down the end of one street, Lo'gan reluctantly parted from Mari's lips. Smiling shyly at the grumble that she could feel under her ear emanating from his chest, Mari turned to face forward again to let Lo'gan lead them correctly. Catching the hand that was holding the leather reins, she brought it to her lips for a quick peck of a kiss like he had done to her on several occasions. Lo'gan smiled at that and placing one of his own on her cloak covered head, continued to move out in a western direction.

They continued in more or less that direction for close to half an hour, slowly taking routes they knew were not paved to avoid unnecessary noise. Turning around to see past his pack camel to Harabi sitting at full alert on his horse, Lo'gan signaled that they were only five minutes away. Harabi grinned in response thinking they had made it across to the nomad quarter without incident, but their luck would falter in the last stretch. Turning the last corner to face the last of the structures before the nomad quarter, they came face to face with a royal guard on foot.

The blue turbaned man was obviously on patrol and seeing them, an instant recognition of the two desert dwellers crossed his eyes. Lo'gan immediately stiffened and seeing that they were about to be discovered if the guard blew the horn attached to his sash, Lo'gan swung his leg behind Nayif in a frighteningly fast reaction.

The guard's eyes widened and Mari gasped, but before she could grab him or even turn around, Lo'gan was off his horse and halfway to the guard with his Khanjar in his hand. Mari watched in slow motion as Lo'gan approached the bigger man and panicked that he would get hurt, she hastily dismounted and was about to run in his direction when Harabi caught her arm and yanked her back with a hoarse `no'.

Mari struggled, but was quickly subdued by the Dawasir when he flung his arms around her. Hearing a grunt and a gurgling scream from where Lo'gan disappeared to in the shadow covered street, Mari eventually just closed her eyes shut and stood in place as a chill ran the whole length of her body.

Sensing she would not bolt, Harabi slowly let go and ran to help Lo'gan. Mari stood glued in place a second longer and fearing the worst, slowly turned in time to see Harabi help Lo'gan drag the guard into an alley. In the faint light, she couldn't make out whether what ran through the cobbled stones they walked over was water or blood, but she really didn't want to know. Their escape was turning out to be at a costly price and she didn't want to think of all of the implications their actions were having. Walking numbly back to Nayif, Mari pet the stallion briefly before securing her footing and mounting him unassisted.

When Lo'gan returned to her, slightly sweaty and out of breath, Mari looked down to hide behind her hood. Lo'gan saw her posture and felt regret gnaw at him, but worried that they had little time to reach the nomad quarter, quickly mounted behind her and pulled in behind Harabi, who was already galloping in the lead. His actions probably disgusted her, but he knew they were necessary and despite his violent tendencies, he took no pleasure in taking lives. It was simply a matter of survival and he always had those sleepless nights to chastise himself for those moments when it was he or they. Only with Harabi and Mari it was more than just him. That was enough of a justification to lay his regrets to rest and pushing all thoughts of how hard steel sliced so easily through warm flesh, Lo'gan pulled up to Harabi's side.

Like expected, they reached the camp settlement in just a few minutes. Despite her growing headache, Mari couldn't help but gasp at the sight of hundreds of camels and tents pitched in the sandy fields when they finally cleared the last buildings lining the curving streets. Lo'gan felt her reaction and wanted to explain, but spotting a single campfire in the distance, quickly brought his stallion to rest by a post at the edge of the camp. Hoping that he would be lucky enough to find the needle in the haystack, Lo'gan dismounted without saying a word to either of his companions and walked off towards a crowd of early risers huddled around a fire a short distance away.

Mari watched him go with trepidation, unsure of what was going on and sorry that she hadn't even asked if he was hurt after his scuffle with the guard on the street. Now he was gone and they were in a massive field full of tents and camels that seemed to stretch endlessly over hills that bordered the entire populated city. Worried that Lo'gan was walking straight into unfamiliar turf, Mari looked over at Harabi for help. He too was following every move that Lo'gan took towards the halo of light amidst the island of huddled tents. She wasn't sure, but he looked concerned too.

"Lo'gan, okay?"

Harabi blinked at Mari's unexpected words and taking a second to center himself against the oddly clear eyes that were watching him carefully, stammered out.

"Yeah, sure. Ahh, he'll……he'll be right back."

Still feeling strangely disquiet by the green of her eyes, Harabi pointed at the fire Lo'gan was headed to in order to get Mari to stop looking at him. Mari did just that and following Lo'gan's thick outline framed against the bright fire, bit nervously at her nails. He seemed to head straight to the biggest figure and she could make out talking between the two. Then someone else joined them and pointed out towards one side of the camp. Mari followed his outstretched hand and seeing nothing different in the ocean of people and animals, looked back to find Lo'gan bowing deeply against the licking flames.

To her relief, Lo'gan then promptly turned and walked back to them. They were directions. He had asked for directions. Bringing her hand to her throat nervously, Mari watched anxiously as Lo'gan made his way through the tents. When he was close, she offered him a hand, eager to have him pressed safely against her once again.

Content that at least she was not `that' disappointed with him, Lo'gan took Mari's outstretched hand and quickly climbed onto Nayif behind her. Getting a hold on Mari first, he checked back to the people he had just spoken to, and then spoke up to his curious companions.

"The al Shammar are not very far to the west. They are headed in the right direction."

Mari crinkled her nose in confusion as Harabi and Lo'gan exchanged uneasy nods, but used to being disregarded in conversation, said nothing as they pulled away once more. The sky was brightening in small increments, so she could finally take a good look around. In her worry over where Lo'gan was going, she had not really noticed that she was in a desert dweller's camp. When Battam arrived at Ma'in, his people had settled in a similar camp. It was where the nomadic clans rested under the open sky while the merchants went out and sold their wares. It seemed terribly inconvenient to Mari at first, but in second thought, the desert peoples were perfectly at home in open fields. They actually preferred that rather to lodgings and swarms of people they did not know deep in the city.

Sighing deeply at the memories of the exchange where she herself was sold, Mari closed her eyes. Lost in the feelings of perpetual dread and confusion she felt all those months of being carted around by strangers as merchandise, Mari did not feel Lo'gan's hand on her cheek until he called her name.

"Mari, darling?"

Mari startled and taking a moment to remember that it was Lo'gan's hand on her skin, blinked at the worry in his eyes.

"Mari okay."

Lo'gan frowned at the waver in her voice, but knowing it was neither the time nor the place, offered a tight smile and quickly signaled to the watching Dawasir to pull ahead. Harabi followed the order and pulled his horse and camel ahead towards their only real hope to escape the city unnoticed. Placing her hand over Lo'gan's, Mari tried to reassure him with touch that she was well. But Lo'gan was not convinced. Cognizant of the fact that she was still very tired, most likely hungry and upset at his attack on the guard on the street, Lo'gan held Mari tighter than he had been and followed Harabi on silent thought.

Weaving Nayif carefully through the hundreds of tents and the hordes of camels hunched and sleeping on the ground, Lo'gan kept a careful eye on the brightening sky and the girl in his arms. The sun would break over the horizon soon and they had to find their allies first.

Fortunately, the dark, storm-threatening sky stayed darker than normal and offered some delay in their search. It was a mixed blessing however, as it meant that traveling was now going to be harder than he had anticipated. Lo'gan frowned at the sky and tugging the reins in his hand slightly, pulled in closer to Harabi.

"Purple and black are the colors."

Harabi nodded and continued to march his horse through the throngs of tents. He had heard of the Shammar and thankfully they were one of the more peaceful clans out there. They were hesitant to trade with other clans and were known for being inclusive, but they were at least friendly and that was always a good start. What's more, their Sheik was renowned for his integrity. His reputation of never cheating a dealer outshone even the Jabir's and that was truly impressive for someone who had been leading for only a year since his father's untimely death.

Straining to see over the huddle of tents all around them, Harabi let out a satisfied smirk when he finally spotted the purple and black weaving on some nearby tents. Signaling to Lo'gan, he turned his horse to the cluster of about fifty tents in the distance, hoping they had at least one more bit of luck working to their favor.

Ma'in, the Imperial city-state along the coast of the Arabian Sea

Mari unconsciously tightened her grip on Nayif's mane, carefully watching the meeting under an open canopy between the young Shammar leader, Lo'gan and Harabi, while she pet the magnificent animal a short distance away. To her non-surprise, Harabi did most of the talking, but it was clear by the way Sheik Shammar kept looking over at Lo'gan that the conversation was not really what was going to determine if he was going to help smuggle them out of Ma'in or not. Mari had come to that conclusion all to herself while the men talked.

It was pretty apparent by the way the Shammar's camp was set up that they would be leaving Ma'in that very morning. They were partially packed and loaded, the only tents still open being the sleeping ones. What's more, when they initially approached them, a fair amount of the tribespeople were already awake and stirring, more so than any other cluster in the vast field. It was a sure sign that they would be heading out into the open desert soon.

Mari saw the movement of women nearby and instinctively drew into her cloak a little more, but too concentrated on watching the interaction between her brave Bedouins and the young Shammar leader, she failed to notice that her outer robe was fluttering in the rising wind. Unnoticed, a little boy was watching her with just as much interest. Catching sight of the pale skin of her ankles when the robe eventually parted, he let out a piercing scream.

Startled by the break in the early morning quiet, everyone in the general vicinity jumped up and ran to the screaming child. Caught up in the sudden flurry of movement, Nayif also reacted, whinnying loudly and bucking his front legs up high. By his side, Mari startled too and pulling back from the scared animal, tripped and fell on her backside when her sandal caught on the horse's dragging lead.

All at once, Mari found herself to be the center of attention. Her fall had caused her hood to fall back and reveal to everyone there her uniquely exotic features. The crowd of people, including the little boy who was now firmly grafted onto his mother's leg, let out a collective gasp as they stared down at Mari's horrified expression. Recoiling visibly at their wide-eyed reaction, Mari clutched at her hood and scrambled to her feet. Every instinct in her body told her to run away and turning to do just that, Mari only stopped when she heard her name.

"Mari! Wait!"

It was Lo'gan, looking angry and scared, but as safe as ever. Mari rushed out to meet him as the crowd parted to let him through and practically jumped into his arms. Lo'gan took a quick assessment that she was all right and turned to face Shammar, who was approaching them with an alarmed expression.

Sheik Shammar had been keeping an eye on the mysterious hooded figure by the horses while they spoke, but nothing gave him the impression that she would cause his visitors to turn so defensive. Lo'gan had heard the commotion and leaping to his feet in an instant adrenaline induced rush, was at her side before he had even gotten to his feet. Staring at the girl Lo'gan protectively hid from the crowd in the crook of his arm, the young Shammar leader tried to put the pieces together. He had heard the rumors of the two men that defied the Sultan and lived, and he had his suspicions the minute Lo'gan and Harabi had shown up at his campfire, but the girl was definite proof positive. Pushing past his curious tribespeople, the Shammar Sheik tried to approach the man who was now backing away slowly and snarling menacingly at the crowd.

"Wait! You are……"

Shammar's words were cut short by the glint of Lo'gan's Khanjar in the dawn light. The crowd around him drew a collective breath and Shammar wondered if he had made a mistake in approaching the warrior. He was obviously highly protective of the girl and prepared to fight. If he was to get anywhere at this point, he had to slow down and show he was not a threat.

"I mean you no harm, friend. I know who you really are and……I will help you if you let me."

The growling emanating from Lo'gan stalled as he thought that over. Mari was practically shaking in his arms and Harabi looked panic stricken from where he was trying to calm Nayif down, but somehow he believed the Sheik. He was too young to lead and had a reputation for being too damn soft, but he had been smart enough to see through Harabi's intricate lies and looked nothing but sincere at the moment.

"What do you know?"

Shammar straightened out his posture a little and turned his hands at his side to show that he was not reaching for his blade. Looking from Harabi's confused expression to Lo'gan's cautious one, he cleared his throat and discretely signaled to his clan to leave them be. The members of his extended family slowly moved from where they were clustered around them and slowly inched away to continue on their duties. Mari relaxed visibly now that so many eyes were not on her anymore, but still held on tightly to Lo'gan, face buried in his shoulder to hide herself from the world.

"Come sit and we can speak. You are in no danger here. She……"

Shammar glanced at the huddled shape attached to the gruff warrior and wondered how to begin. Before she had gotten to her feet, he did catch a glimpse of the pale skin all Ma'in was talking about. She had brown hair, the color of tamarinds and was light as cream, but he had not seen the eyes that were according to most reports, green as emeralds.

"She is safe here. The child was startled is all, but I will help you. You have my word."

Lo'gan looked the Sheik over and glancing at Harabi to see him nod slightly in agreement, reluctantly brought his blade down from his warning stance.

"Fine. But she stays with me."

Shammar bowed slightly to show he conceded and slowly turned to head back to the fire's side. Harabi followed with his hand still on his Khanjar. Lo'gan stood away a second longer. Nudging Mari's face up to see that she was scared but all right, Lo'gan eventually resheathed his L shaped dagger and followed too. Sitting on high cushions by the crackling fire in the canopy a few minutes later, Harabi spoke out first.

"What exactly have you heard?"

Shammar reached for the coffee urn resting by the fire and poured it out into four shallow bowls on a nearby platter. Harabi watched in amusement. It was important that a hosting Sheik offer food, but he had never heard of a Sheik himself serving it. It not only meant that Shammar did not have a woman, but that he had no servants either.

"What everyone has been saying. That two desert dwellers defied the Sultan in his own celebration with quick wit and even quicker swords."

Lo'gan watched the Sheik's every move and when he was handed a cup, sniffed at it gingerly before passing it along to Mari. Mari took the cup and spurred on by the intense smell, brought the hot liquid to her lips. Lo'gan watched her grimace at the bitterness but knew she must have been hungry by the way she quickly drank it without any further preamble. He was passed butter biscuits next and breaking off a piece for himself gave it to her as well. Mari nibbled on the welcome food with her head down to keep from view and tried to decipher what was being said, embarrassed that she had created such a fuss, but grateful that she at least was by Lo'gan's side.

"And what do you think of that?"

Harabi dipped his bread into his coffee, more relaxed now that Lo'gan seemed to have eased off and was eating too. Shammar raised his eyebrows with a smile and motioned to the camp at large.

"The same that everyone else that crosses those deserts thinks. It's about time that someone stands up to that ignorant jackal. He does not belong on the throne and his move to choke the very lifewater out of us Bedouins, proves it."

Lo'gan snorted in the memory of the Sultan's defeated expression when his very own subjects demanded that they be let go and handing another piece of bread to Mari, finally added to the conversation.

"Doesn't mean he can't make things hard. He'll keep choking until there is no choice."

Shammar nodded gravely and tossed his final piece of bread into the fire. Fighting was not something he particularly approved of. Tradition dictated that he maintain his twelve horsemen and his father's Khanjar at his side, but he didn't like it one bit. Unfortunately, Lo'gan's words rang true. In the huddled whisperings he had seen run through the camp the previous night, it was clear that the clans were seeing it as the only way and knowing what he did of queen Zainab, he knew it to be true as well.

"Will there be a majlis council called?"

Lo'gan nodded thoughtfully and unconsciously placed a hand on Mari's waist now that he was done eating. Finished with her meal as well and suddenly sleepy, Mari leaned her hooded head over his shoulder and eased into the hand at her side. Shammar watched the tender exchange with a bit of awe, satisfied that the rumors of Lo'gan having taken the Sultan's latest addition to his harem from right under his nose were true. He wanted to see her eyes for himself, but something told him it was not a gesture the Jabir would like very much. Noticing that Shammar's train of thought was veering into dangerous territories, Harabi wisely interrupted before his short-tempered partner noticed Shammar's interest in Mari.

"So then you'll make sure we get to attend that meeting?"

Shammar snapped back into himself and grinned widely.

"Absolutely, Harabi. We leave in about two hours time. If you allow yourselves to be hidden in a camel's pull, you can make it safely past the city walls."

Lo'gan nodded with a hint of shame in having threatened the man who proved to be just as honorable as his reputation claimed he was.

"We thank you. Once we are two days away we can manage on our own."

Lo'gan then glanced at Harabi, who already knowing how to read Lo'gan a mile away, quickly dug into his sash for the leather purse that contained the rest of the small fortune they had won in the gambling tents a few days back.

"We fully intend to pay for your troubles."

Shammar did not even glance at the offered purse and stood up, shaking his robes free of sand with a half smile.

"It is the least I can do for the noble Bedouin heroes all Arabia will be talking about for years to come. Lo'gan, when my father was alive, he spoke of yours with great respect and it is only right that I help you with this small favor after you risked your lives to stand up for our rights. I will return shortly when everything is ready. What is mine is yours."

Bringing his right hand over his closed fist, the Shammar Sheik bowed slightly at both Harabi and Lo'gan before leaving. The Dawasir and the Jabir offered their own clan greetings silently in exchange and watched Shammar walk away. Reaching over for more aromatic coffee with a surprised smile, Harabi leaned back to sip his brew and rest a little before leaving.

"That was simpler than I thought. A few hours and we are back on familiar turf."

Lo'gan wondered if the strange inflection in the Dawasir's voice meant he missed Miznih and nodding tiredly, turned his attentions to Mari, who despite her best efforts to understand what the Shammar leader had to say, had fallen deeply asleep at his side. Lo'gan felt something in his chest pull at the sweetness in her face when she slept and easing back a little into one side of the canopy, brought her head to rest directly over his heart.

The auburn hair she had tucked primly into her hood cascaded out a little and fingering the silky locks, Lo'gan finally let himself relax a little. That incident earlier had terrified him. Not just the fact that Mari could have been hurt, but the fact that he had reacted so strongly. It seemed like all reason abandoned him when it comes to Mari and that was a scary thought if nothing else. Running his gaze over the immediate camp, that was now bustling with movement as the rest of the Shammar clan woke up, Lo'gan determined they were in good hands. Shammar was honorable and that was a strike to their favor.

Some people were still looking at them from their corner of their eyes, however, and spotting the boy that had scared Nayif and Mari peeking at him from under a rolled up tarp, Lo'gan bared his teeth at him and watched with satisfaction as he scampered away. Harabi let out a snort and took another sip of his coffee. Lo'gan smirked too and tightening his grip on Mari's hip, leaned his head against hers.

They would be in the dunes soon and that was a welcome thing after being in a city for close to a week. Of course it also meant that Mari was one step closer to her home, but that was not something he wanted to think too much about. Bringing the long lock of auburn hair to his lips, Lo'gan kissed it reverently before going back to finger it softly. A few minutes later, Harabi was snoring, no doubt having gotten no sleep whatsoever at Miznih's and he himself felt his eyelids getting heavy. Only there was no way he could let his guard down. As the fire died down in the growing wind to leave the three-walled canopy in practical darkness, Lo'gan struggled with the tiredness of the last few days.

Running smooth circles over Mari's jutting hip, Lo'gan did stay awake and watched as the nomad camp woke up slowly to the new day. Regrettably, it was not getting much more brighter than it already was. The dark storm clouds Lo'gan had seen billowing up on their escape from the palace, were now fully formed and stretching across the entire sky, blocking out the early sun and threatening with heavy rains. In a few days time, that really wouldn't be an issue for the Bedouins because the rain never strayed far from the coast, but it would mean strong kaus winds in the desert. He had seen it coming for months and the timing couldn't be worse.

Shaking his head to free it of the negative thoughts already swirling in it, Lo'gan pushed concerns of the weather out of his mind and slowly nudged Mari awake. The Shammars were quick, not as quick as his own clan, but quick nevertheless and like promised they were almost done packing in an hour and a half. Bringing Mari's face up to his own, Lo'gan kissed the corners of her mouth until Mari fluttered her eyes open and with a slightly annoyed moan, buried herself back into his shoulder. Lo'gan chuckled at that and overcome with immature mischievousness looked around to check that no one was watching them before sliding a hand into her black cloak. Moving slowly, he brought his hand to cup her breast and watched with amusement as Mari startled and blinked at him with a reddened expression.

"Lo'gan!"

The Jabir answered Mari's exasperated whisper the only way he knew how and swept down to kiss her. Mari responded just like he wished she would, but feeling the hand at her breast get a little more urgent as they deepened their kiss, Mari brought her own hand over Lo'gan's and separated from his lips with considerable effort. Lo'gan pulled back an inch from Mari's face and stared down at the angelic face lit up with the eerie glow of her eyes and smiled.

Mari smiled back and feeling too drawn to Lo'gan's intense gaze, did not feel him shift their hands so that his was over hers on her breast. With a wicked gleam in his eye, Lo'gan used Mari's own hand to knead the flesh there and pinch at the nipples now firmly making themselves felt through the fabric of her dress. Mari gasped at the deft manipulation and turning a bright red again, didn't even have time to brace against Lo'gan's lips as they crushed onto hers once again. Bringing his other hand to Mari's neck to keep her firmly in his grasp, Lo'gan ravished her mouth for endless minutes.

When they couldn't breath any more, they broke apart, both flush and panting and grinning like fools. Reluctant to let go, Lo'gan pecked Mari's cheek and slowly moved his hand from under Mari's cloak.

"We have to go soon, darling."

"Okay, go. Lo'gan and Mari go."

Lo'gan resisted the urge to just kiss her again and rubbed her cheek instead. Mari stretched into the caress languidly and figuring to hell with schedules, they could touch just a little bit longer, Lo'gan bent down to kiss little spots on Mari's outstretched neck. Mari held her breath when she felt the warm lips touch her skin and reaching up slowly to feel along his chest like he had done to her, closed her eyes to savor the exquisite feel of Lo'gan's touching. But just then a loud snore came from the other side of the canopy where Harabi was still napping.

Mari pulled back and giggled at Lo'gan's irritated growl. He looked at the offending Dawasir reproachfully and tempted to throw something heavy in his direction, decided that Mari stirring in his arms was a better use of his time. But the time for cuddling with Mari was over anyhow, because someone was coming straight for them. Lo'gan cast one last sorry look at Mari's beckoning laughter and stood to his feet, bringing her with him.

By the time Shammar peeled back the canopy flap, they were almost straightened out. All except for Mari's hood that is. Reaching for it the second she heard Shammar's feet ground to a halt at the canopy entrance, Mari turned around to avoid his stare. But it was too late. Shammar had gotten a clear look at the growing legend of the green eyed girl and at a loss for words, stared dumbly at the hooded form as she retreated to the darkest corner of the structure. Luckily, he remembered Lo'gan in time and turning to meet his unreadable expression, quickly stammered out why he was there.

"Ahh, we're ready to leave, so……"

Momentarily interrupted by Mari's crossing over to nudge Harabi awake, Shammar quickly snapped his gaze back to Lo'gan just as he crossed his arms.

"So you can meet us……outside."

Turning on his heel, the youngest Sheik in the entire Khali desert walked out with his mind swirling with images of the beautiful girl he had just glimpsed. Rumors had credited her with being exotic and strangely haunting, but no one had really said she was beautiful. There must have been almost five hundred guests and servants at the Sultan's birthday the day before, and already twice that amount were swearing to be eyewitnesses. Only he knew now that they were all liars, because if they had really seen the girl, that would be all they would be talking about instead of the fight between Lo'gan and the captain of the guard.

Shaking his head at the unfairness of the much, much, much older Jabir somehow being the lucky one, Shammar trotted over to where one of his younger charges was incorrectly strapping a pack on a camel and looking back for a split second to the three strangers bustling to gather their things, wondered what exactly the connection between her and the Jabir was.

Lo'gan saw the look and pulling on his sandals a little too forcefully turned to see what Mari was up to. Harabi was showing her how to take apart the canopy, but seeing Lo'gan's look, quickly found something else to do. Mari looked at the Dawsir a little awkwardly before shuffling over to where Lo'gan was snuffing out the remains of the fire. He looked a little tired, but otherwise too inviting to pass up. It seemed they were always on the run and it was horribly unfair to exist on just stolen kisses alone.

Adjusting her black cloak as best as she could, Mari reached out to Lo'gan with a full body hug from behind. Lo'gan took all of two seconds to lose his grumpy attitude and hug her back. He had quickly learned that things always looked better with Mari in his reach. Taking her hand after placing a lingering kiss on her head, Lo'gan grabbed the rest of his gear and with a quick nod to Harabi, together headed out towards Shammar.

---

Fifteen minutes later the three refugees were tucked away among dozens of coffee bean sacks. It was not easy going in the pull cart being dragged by a jostling camel, but it was better than nothing. Bringing a piece of sackcloth to Mari's chin, Lo'gan looked over at Harabi who was already drifting off where he was sitting. The Dawasir was completely covered and confident that Mari was sufficiently disguised too, he leaned back and let her reposition herself against his chest. Through the flap that covered the wagon, he could see their animals being led by an elderly woman on a dulah camel. It took some convincing to get Nayif to follow the cart without his master on him, but he eventually understood that Lo'gan was just ahead of him and still within smell's reach.

Content that he was following a good pace and was in competent hands, Lo'gan turned his attentions back to Mari. Her hood was pulled tight around her, but he couldn't rest and not see her. Pushing the black fabric delicately away from her face, he smiled down at her before repositioning his hand back where they gravitated to naturally. Mari welcomed the weight on the curve of her hip and nestled even closer to smell the scent that was all Lo'gan. The strong smell of coffee pervaded her senses, but she knew she would sleep a lot better if he was as close to her as possible.

Lo'gan smiled proudly at the fact that she chose to be so curled into him and resumed the playful twirling of her hair in his hands like they had been under the canopy. And like the brief rest they had earlier, Mari was fast asleep only a minute after Harabi started snoring. And like before, Lo'gan settled in for a long wait. They would be approaching the Ma'in port of exits in under an hour and they were far from being safe until they were well past them.

Remembering the true dangerous nature of their escape, Lo'gan gingerly eased Mari to his side in the aromatic cart and carefully pulled out his weapon. If things looked suspicious, the guards at the city wall might demand a search of the Shammar clan's goods and he had to be ready for anything. Forgoing sleep at least for another day, Lo'gan kept an eye on his stallion as the wind continued to increase all around them.

He hadn't noticed in the hurry to get packed up and hidden, but he now saw that the sky had actually darkened since daybreak. And as if on command, a thunderclap broke not too far away. It lit everything and hung painfully in the air. Lo'gan looked down to see that Mari was still soundly asleep, but gripped his dagger a little tighter, his senses now fully alert to the rain that started to fall heavily down on the tarp that covered the cart.

The heavy drops quickly increased in tempo and before long, sheets of rain beat down on everything within sight. At the head of the long procession working its way to the city gates, Shammar thanked the gods for the good fortune. With adverse weather, the guards would most likely usher them through quickly and with minimal questions.

Little did he know that under the queen's orders they would question no one that day. She had other plans for Lo'gan and his companions and watching the rain from her place by her window, queen Zainab twisted the blue silk gown she wore anxiously in her hands. Waiting was never her strong suit, but to catch this particular nuisance that was exactly what she had to do. Ignoring the fat wet drops staining her blue gown a dark navy, the twisted old woman reviewed her plans methodically in her head. It was only a matter of time.

The plains outside of imperial Ma'in, bordering the Rub al-Khali

Mari jostled awake with a sudden lunge forward and reminiscent of the many weeks she traveled on a cart over muddy Roman trails, bolted upright with a hand at her chest. Lo'gan had been fully alert at her side, but was still caught off guard by the quickness in her movement. He let go of the dagger in his hands and quickly turned Mari by the shoulders to face him.

"Mari?"

Mari squeezed her eyes shut and fought to quell the instinct that told her to push him away. It was Lo'gan and Lo'gan would never hurt her. But the goose bumps on her skin were still telling of her fear and the setting was all too familiar. With a mild shrug of her shoulders to free herself of the large hands cupping her, she gingerly eased into the burlap sack that was behind her. The sacks were a hard surface to sleep on, but at least they were malleable under weight. She shifted a little to make a dent in the sack that fit her snugly and feeling Lo'gan's eyes still on her, reviewed her vocabulary to retrieve the words that she needed.

"Mari, tired……okay."

Lo'gan nodded in understanding, but still felt uneasy with Mari's actions. She was scared. He could tell by the way she was still clutching her cloak between her breasts and it more than angered him to feel that familiar tinge of curiosity about her past spark up again. It was something that in all the chaos of the past day he tried to forget, but in moments like this, he couldn't help but think back to the Sultan's depraved indifference and wonder. Swallowing dryly, Lo'gan eased up next to Mari and offered her a smile he really didn't feel. Mari appreciated the gesture though, and letting her head rest again by his side, slowly eased her grip on her cloak. She hadn't been aware she was doing it, but it didn't surprise her.

Most nights crossing the Carpathian Mountains, Mari woke up to frost frozen on her face and a numbing cold deep in her bones. On occasion it would be at the insistent hands of a guard she detested. It was against the rules for anyone to touch the merchandise that was still considered intact, and Valeria made sure everyone understood that, but there was something different about this particular guard. In his dark, flat eyes, Mari saw that he did not care. He got off on causing pain and always left bruises where he mauled her.

She still remembered the first time she woke up to a knife pressed to her throat with him grunting and straining over her. Mari opened her mouth to scream, but he quickly shushed her with his words. Mari really didn't understand them, but she did know what he was pointing at. It was her mute cagemate and unlike her, she was not intact. He could do with the poor girl what he wanted and Mari was not prepared to live with that kind of guilt. She understood what he was threatening and quietly nodded in compliance.

He relieved himself over her a few minutes later and with more hateful words spit into her face, left before the camp woke up. Mari had stood in place crying silently for an eternity, wishing she was back home and hating what her life had become. It would happen on occasion after that, fast, silent, and always in the predawn dark. She hadn't remembered in a while, but something about the way the rain fell on the tarp above her had brought it all back. Only she wasn't in the mountains anymore and her hands were not linked by chains. She was free and safe and next to someone who touched her like no one else had.

Slowly moving a hand to join Lo'gan's where it rested on his stomach, Mari closed her eyes again and let the anxiety she felt slowly dissipate. She wanted to tell Lo'gan so much, but couldn't. Touch would have to do. It would have to serve as their link when words failed them. Sinking into her hood so that her tears would not be visible, Mari smiled sadly as the rain kept pouring outside. Her head felt heavy and hazy and all she wanted to do was sleep her tiredness away. It had been months since she had slept without worry and Lo'gan was there to keep all the wrong far away. He would never fail her. Of this she was sure.

Lo'gan delicately took the small hand over his and working circles he knew helped soothe her still hurting fingers, reiterated his own wordless assurances. She needed some space and he understood that perfectly well. In less than a minute, Mari was fast asleep again. After traveling for almost a half day in the cart, they were all tired of being cramped among the sacks of coffee, but there was little else to do other than wait.

He figured there was at least another few hours until they would pass the last marker that announced the end of Ma'in's departing main road. Until then, caravans coming and going to the city still heavily traveled the thoroughfare and they could not stop. It was still dark and rainy outside which would make the traveling over the gravel road difficult, but Lo'gan was confident the Shammar people could cross the plains easily enough. Already they had had significant good fortune. To everyone's surprise, they had crossed the city gates completely uneventfully.

---

Lo'gan had been on special alert when the Shammar caravan ground to a halt that morning, ready to fight at a second's notice if they were discovered. He even woke Harabi up and together they lay ready in the cart's entrance, but it never came to pass. Through the fluttering tarp covering the cart, they saw the blue turbaned guards hastily walk past the convoy and give the signal back to the gatekeeper that all was well. Lo'gan figured their lack of interest had something to do with the pouring rain, but too relieved to care, Lo'gan thanked the gods and eased back to check on a sleeping Mari when the caravan was given the order to pass through.

The heavy wrought iron gates that served as Ma'in's primary defense creaked open slowly. Lo'gan smoothed over Mari's hair without breathing while they crept forward through it. When they were finally on the outside and the gates slammed closed behind the convoy, he exchanged relieved grins with Harabi and moved to position Mari back over his chest. Harabi mumbled on about his ingenious plan and snuggling back into his sleeping cubby, brought his ghutra headpiece back over his face and promptly fell asleep with a smirk on his face.

---

Lying peacefully with Mari just a few hours later, Lo'gan went through the various possibilities for their next move in his head. Once they left the plains surrounding the city, they could either follow the Shammar up into the Rub-al Khali or go on alone. One provided disguise in numbers in case the palace guards were patrolling the nearby areas for them and the other guaranteed quickness as they could move faster with only four animals. Either way, the goal was to rendezvous in Gazir with the waiting Dawasir and the Jabir clans before the new moon. After that both clans had to go north to make their scheduled meets with northern traders. Unfortunately, the new moon was only three weeks away and with the added pressure of the royal guard looking for them and the possibility of really bad weather in the dunes, Lo'gan knew that it would be hard to make it in that time.

Looking over at Harabi's increasingly louder snoring and then at Mari's delicate hand in his, Logan breathed out heavily. His mission had been a failure, but his two companions were dependent on him and he had to get them both home safely. The fact that he didn't really want to see neither go, made it even more ironic. For a person that never liked to be around people for the simple fact that he disliked most, he was really going to miss them. Feeling something in his chest pinch at that revelation, Lo'gan picked up the marvelously soft hand in his grasp and kissed it delicately, trying to forget all thoughts of having to say goodbyes.

The movement caused a jangle in the many bracelets that Mari wore. Sighing in the memory of the nipple ring he had miraculously not thought of in the last hour, Lo'gan ordered his libido to take a rest. Except the hand in his was too soft to ignore. Turning it, Lo'gan looked over the hennaed designs on Mari's pale skin that he hadn't really had time to examine before. As luck would have it, time was all he had now. Squinting his eyes in the faint dark, Lo'gan carefully ran his coal black eyes over the intricate designs.

Starting on her index finger, there was a growing swirl of paisleys and pansy flowers winding all around her finger. The brown tinted wave of designs curved around her wrist where it thickened to include little suns, crescent moons and stars. Each shape was about the size of a fingernail, but together they created a beautiful river of designs that continued to thicken and curve up into the wide sleeves of her garment.

Lo'gan looked down at Mari's deep breathing with a smirk. As nice as it would be to explore the designs that spun up into her arms, Mari needed to rest as much as possible. It would have to wait. Turning her hand over, Lo'gan continued to explore with a sly smirk on his face. What he found made his face go lax again. Unlike the trail of designs that curved on the other side, Mari's palm was covered with a solid and tangible depiction. There was a wide thick circle that covered most of her palm and a drawing inside it. Tilting the hand slightly to get a better look with the light that filtered through the fluttering flap of the cart, Lo'gan creased his brow and brought his face closer to the brown markings.

The circle was composed of little elephants, all dressed with tall head feathers and ornamented blankets draped over their backs. Their tails and trunks were linked, making the circle complete. Lo'gan smiled slightly at that, having seen plenty of hennas before but never this intricate. The Jabir women used any excuse from weddings to the birth of a camel to have henna parties, but this was altogether different. He looked at Mari's sleeping face again before looking back to the circle. Inside the perimeter of elephants was the true measure of the talent the artist possessed. It was a sketch of a peacock bird, stylistic instead of realistic, but as beautiful as anything he had ever seen before.

Slowly, Lo'gan's smile faded. He wasn't sure why, but something was oddly different about this particular peacock. It was a popular omen animal, who routinely found its way onto rugs and urns and jewelry, except……

Lo'gan thought over the familiarity of the drawing. Forgetting that it was attached to someone that was still sleeping, he brought the drawing even closer to his face in the muted light. A few moments later, the Jabir warrior raised his eyebrows. Peacocks were indeed routine in Arabian wares, except none were positioned quite like this one. The magnificent bird was always drawn with its tail feathers gloriously open behind him. This particular drawing had the animal turned to show its long tail feathers curved under him. What made it even more curious was that it looked familiar. He had seen it before.

Lo'gan stared at it for a good three minutes before letting the hand fall back down to his stomach. With a half smile, he wondered why on earth he was thinking so much about a bird anyway. Looking back at Mari, he traced a finger lightly down her face and eased back down again to rest. The rain had not slowed down and boosting his head up with his free hand, Lo'gan settled in for the long wait. Still massaging Mari's hand where the flow of henna shapes curved over her wrist, Lo'gan closed his eyes to the soft drum of the rain. Eventually his breathing evened out to unconsciously match Mari's and just a few moments later he was almost asleep. Only something clicked deep in his recollection first.

Opening his eyes suddenly, Lo'gan lifted the hand that he was cradling. The curled peacock was actually one he had seen for years. His mother Joza had one identical to Mari's as a charm on a bracelet. When he was young, it was something that he played with out of boredom while he lounged in his mother's lap. When he was sixteen, his mother had lost it and unwilling to see her cry, Lo'gan walked four days back into the desert to retrieve her lost satchel. Just three years ago, he had taken it to a jewelry specialist in a Gutiab trading post for resmithing. Joza always wore it and trusted only him with it. Lo'gan never asked why that was, it was simply not in his nature to ask, but thumbing the design over Mari's palm, he felt selfish. It mattered to his mother and because it did he should have asked. Shaking his head free of a familiar guilt, Lo'gan instead focused on the design again.

The resemblance was remarkable. Even though one was carved in gold and the other drawn in ink, the unique pose made them the same. It was beautiful and Mari had even said so when she pointed to it when they had crossed the beach. Furrowing his brow a little, Lo'gan ran his index finger across the graceful arc from the head of the celebrated bird down to the tip of its tail. Mari mumbled and shifted at the inadvertent tickle and Lo'gan quickly removed his finger from her palm. The mumbling ceased and Mari let out a soft snort before resuming her even breathing. Lo'gan smiled and bent down to place a soft kiss over her cloak covered head. Just as he did, the cart stalled and ground to a halt.

Immediately at alert, Lo'gan reached for his Khanjar while moving Mari's hand from his stomach back over to her. Tucking it into her side, he pulled at her hood to hide her features a little more, just like she liked and then moved to the head of the cart with minimal movement of the sacks under him. Peeking through the flapping tarp to the drenched world beyond it, Lo'gan saw that the convoy had stopped. Nayif was hoofing madly behind his escort and Lo'gan knew that something was wrong.

Completely forgetting the mystery of the peculiar peacock drawn onto Mari's palm and the connection it might have to his mother, Lo'gan pulled at the sandaled feet that peeked out between two nearby sacks and parting the tarp that covered them from the rain, jumped outside.

Immediately, Lo'gan felt his robes flatten against his body and blinking against the odd feel of rain brushing his eyelashes, stomped over to where Nayif was making life harder for his keeper. With a low bow of respect, Lo'gan took the reins from the old woman on the dulah camel that was leading Nayif and quickly patted down his horse into submission. He then untied Nayif from his pack camel and led him out of the procession to help calm him down a little more.

The temperamental stallion was no stranger to rain, having weathered a few storms on their coastal journeys before, but it didn't mean he liked it. The slippery mud was unfamiliar and the chill the rain brought with it was not to his liking neither. Lo'gan understood the dislike very well and wanted to stay with him a little longer, but seeing Harabi finally fall out of the cart groggily, quickly looked around to see what was causing the delay.

"What's going on?"

Lo'gan pointed near the head of the fifty or so camel procession that had ground to a halt over an apparently overturned cart. Lo'gan could make out Shammar and his horsemen trying to lift it back on its two wheels, but since it wasn't budging, he figured they could use a hand.

"Cart trouble. They need a hand."

Harabi nodded and fell into step alongside Lo'gan, already completely drenched down to his skin in the pouring rain. Every step they took sunk them deeper into the muddy plains soil and threatened to take the very sandals off their feet. Harabi grimaced in distaste as he plodded through the mess.

Wet soil was not something a desert dweller liked and even though it only rained that much a few times a year, it was not an event anyone outside of orchard owners looked forward to. Once started, it would rain for days and when finally over, the plains that separated the desert and the coast would come alive with life. Dry shrubbery would bloom brightly, wells would fill to capacity for another few months and animals would hurry to reproduce. Unfortunately the boon would spell nothing but trouble on the dunes if it was strong enough. The resulting winds would seize everything and even oases have been known to be swallowed up during those sandstorms.

Lo'gan and Harabi thought back to their families waiting for them in the Gazir Oasis. Gazir was in the range of the sandstorms, but if things got bad, both Khalaf and Salih knew enough to leave without them. It was not something they needed to deal with at that point on top of everything else, but like every nomad learned early in life, there was no dictating the winds. They did what they wanted and people simply had to work around it. Hoping with everything in them that the storms would avoid their loved ones, Lo'gan and Harabi approached Shammar's purple trimmed warriors.

The young Shammar sheik quickly spun around and faced them with an exasperated look. The men he was directing had managed to lift the cart a few feet off the ground, but it slipped and they were splattered in mud with nothing to show for all their combined strength.

"What are you doing out? Someone can see you."

Lo'gan shrugged past the sheik and lined himself alongside three men that were now burying a tent pole under the overturned cart to use as leverage. Nayif watched closely from the side and having no further need for orders other than to see Lo'gan doing it, Harabi quietly did the same. Shammar watched them both in frustration, before finally joining them. It was obvious his question was not going to be answered by either one.

On his order the men pushed and strained and after a few tries, succeeded in righting the pull cart. Sharing in the brief victory, Lo'gan and Harabi shook off the clumps of mud clinging onto their lower halves and then helped in getting the camels hitched up again and the caravan moving.

It was better for everyone if they stopped for a rest, but they were still in the open road and until they passed the last markers that signaled the end of the Ma'in province, they couldn't stop. Fortunately it was only a half hour away and moving with renewed vigor under their protective suede cloaks, the Shammar people kept up their march through the now indistinguishable mud trail.

Deciding that it was best if they rode alongside their smugglers, since they were already wet and the road was dangerously slippery for most of the animals, Lo'gan and Harabi added two more to the Shammar's twelve horsemen. They did so without asking and intrigued over the stranger's apparent disregard to all clan convention, Shammar soon pulled up alongside Lo'gan to get a better look at what everyone extolled as Arabia's new hero.

"It is safer if you hide for now."

Lo'gan gave the sheik a sidewards glance and kept up Nayif's medium trot alongside the cart Mari was sleeping in. When she did wake up, she would need to see him nearby and he was going to keep her in clear view meanwhile.

"I'm tired of hiding. Besides, you can't see past an arm's length ahead of you. No one will spot us."

Shammar thought that over and surprised that he hadn't thought of it first, looked over at the man that apparently didn't think much of him. He was used to other clans disapproving of his age. Some even refused to trade with him, but the Jabir was different. It wasn't personal. He was utterly irreverent with authority, period. And the Dawasir was not too far behind. Rumor had it Harabi was a thief and a scoundrel. Looking over with a frown at how Harabi rode closest to the camels with his young female cousins, Shammar made a mental note to watch him a little closer. All together, he believed every word of rumor he had heard concerning the two. It would take a pair that brazen to pull off something of that magnitude in the Sultan's presence.

Only there was something else that was bothering him. It did not escape him that Lo'gan barely left the girl's side. A girl that was scared, displaced and until recently - part of a harem. It was really none of his business, but well, he had to know. Wrinkling his brow to find the right way to breach the subject, Shammar hemmed and hawed atop his white horse until Lo'gan finally spoke.

"She's mine."

Shammar whipped his head around, the speed sending fat drops of rainwater from his Ghutra spraying in an arc. He looked at Lo'gan with a mortified expression, but Lo'gan didn't see it, since he hadn't wavered his gaze from the furthermost camel at the head of the convoy.

"Ahh, what I……"

"She's safe with me and I'm taking her back north. She's mine……for now at least."

He finally looked over and the young sheik almost swallowed his tongue at the mixture of anger, determination and sadness on Lo'gan's face. The rain ran down in rivulets over his hardened features and Shammar took all of five seconds to determine he was telling the truth. Lo'gan might not care very much for his authority but he looked as honest as they came. His own father was not an easy man to impress and yet he never had nothing but exalting things to say about Khalaf Jabir. He often wished he had met the man his father so admired, but his son Lo'gan, seemed a character from a clan poet's tale himself. And the saying said; the figs never fall far from their tree. He would keep an eye on the pair, just for safe keeping and leave it at that.

When Lo'gan turned back to face forward again, Shammar finally found his voice and feeling ashamed that he had insulted the son of a man his father had admired so much, pulled slightly ahead in his white stallion to enter Lo'gan's field of view.

"I apologize, Lo'gan al Jabir. I have no rights to judge you. I do not doubt that you will do just that. I……I am sorry."

Lo'gan stared at the sheik, surprised that the kid actually was apologizing to him. He was called a savage often enough. It was not something he cared about. If people feared him all the better he thought, but he could not recall someone actually saying they misjudged him. Perhaps there was some credit to the kid after all. Not sure how to respond, Lo'gan nodded sternly and slowed Nayif a little more so that he stood level with Mari. Perhaps going with the Shammar as far as possible would be a good idea after all.

Shammar knew that was all the response he was going to get out of the seasoned warrior and taking his cue, pulled forward to check on his other horsemen. Spotting Harabi flashing a toothy smile at one of his cousins, he quickly decided that that was a good place to start.

Lo'gan watched him go and quietly rode by the cart while he thought over Shammar's sentiment that his involvement with Mari was somehow less than honorable. Of course, it wasn't ideal. If it was, they'd be alone in his tent right now, but well, he was being truthful. He would do nothing to harm her. It would only go as far as she wanted.

Still rolling that thought in his head, Lo'gan startled when a particularly bright flash of lightening tore the sky above them. Bracing Nayif for the inevitable rumble that followed, Lo'gan rubbed the stallion's neck soothingly. When the crash did come, it rattled everything and many of the clan's animals stalled, including the camel pulling the coffee. Only a second later, Mari's wide-eyed face peered out of the cart's flapping tarp.

Lo'gan saw the immediate relief on her face when she saw him and tried to say something to her when in an unexpected move, she adjusted her hood and leaped out of the moving cart and onto the muddy ground. It was now Lo'gan's eyes that widened as he made an attempt to dismount to tell her to get back in. But Mari had other plans. She stretched out her arms and with a definitive voice, declared.

"Lo'gan, up."

The Jabir warrior answered with a grin and seeing her intent, stretched out his free arm to her. Barely stalling his horse to avoid falling out of rhythm with the rest of the procession, Lo'gan bent over and scooped Mari up to the saddle. Unlike their first try, the move was smooth and seamless. Mari landed in front of Lo'gan squarely and smiling back at him offered her explanation with a sour expression.

"Coffee."

Lo'gan chuckled heartily at that. The smell of coffee beans was intoxicating, but after a few hours of being immersed in it, it got tiring. Assuming his now typical hand across her waist, Lo'gan brought Mari back a little to fit flush against his body. The move caused the water that soaked them both to squish between them. Lo'gan really didn't want to have her out in the rain for fear that she could get sick from the unnatural cold that accompanied it. What he didn't know was that Mari had a bigger immunity to the cold than anyone else for over three thousand miles.

The last thing he expected a minute beforehand was to be riding with Mari in the rain, but well, at least she was in his arms. Ignoring the fact that Mari's clothes were now plastered onto her frame, Lo'gan placed a warm kiss on her hood-covered cheek. Mari smiled at the embrace and also assumed her now characteristic position with one hand on the brunt of the saddle and another clutching the forearm that crossed her waist. Together they rode north alongside the Shammar people, cuddled tightly for body heat while the skies that had been quiet for months thundered and shook in increasing fury.

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

The plains outside of imperial Ma'in, bordering the Rub al-Khali

Lo'gan watched as Mari adjusted her hood against the wind out of the corner of his eye and temporarily forgot what it was that was being said. It was customary for the Shammar to stop moving an hour before the sun touched the horizon. It was now unpacking time and typical to every nomadic clan, the men discussed the move and their location while the women unpacked and set up camp. It was requisite that as guests, Lo'gan and Harabi attend those afternoon debriefings, but as far as meetings went, Shammar was the personification of boring. Harabi yawned widely from where he leaned on his horse and Lo'gan kept tracking Mari's movements while Shammar went on and on about procedure and protocol.

Oblivious to Lo'gan's attentions, Mari sat perched atop a suede stool, watching the clan women busily knead biscuits for the evening meal. In the eight days they had traveled with the Shammar, she had grown significantly more confident in being around the other women. Lo'gan frowned a little when she suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth. He immediately perked up from where he was actively ignoring Shammar, but then realized that she was laughing. He crinkled his nose a little at that.

He liked that she was exploring the camp more and was less apprehensive about being around people. He had quickly discovered that Mari had a curious streak a mile wide and felt the need to touch and smell everything. She kept within shouting distance, but it nevertheless made Lo'gan nervous to see people still staring at her when she wasn't looking. He could tell they tried not to, but he snarled at the little boy who had scared her that first day and a few of the girls who were intent on gossiping about her exotic features whenever he saw them for good measure. Fortunately, those were the exceptions. If anything, Mari had become something of a project for the older Shammar women.

Once the rains stopped a few days after leaving Ma'in, they talked and fussed over her non-stop. It worked wonders for her vocabulary and even her habit of always wanting to keep hidden started to ease a little. She ventured out among people now and silently listened while the older women spoke of recipes and customs and what a wife's duty was. Mari listened attentively and Lo'gan spent more than a healthy amount of their time camped watching her nod her head and occasionally ask a shy question from a distance.

At first it bothered him that she needed to hear all of that. They obviously misunderstood their relationship. Well……not really. He did want her, really, really wanted her, but it was too hard to try and explain to the others that he was not going to marry her. He knew she had tried at first. He had overheard her explaining with her broken sentences, but the women brushed it aside and kept going. They were convinced that Lo'gan was her promised and they would not hear anything else.

It's not like he really minded that they thought that anyway. After his initial reaction, which was always to shy from any insinuation that he would be somebody's husband, Lo'gan actually liked the idea. It kept the other men at bay and the women actually welcomed Mari into their midst with all the giddiness that women usually reserved for brides to be and babies. The tricky part was to not believe it. After a few days, Lo'gan had actually caught himself wondering `what if'. But then reality struck him in the worst way. He had found out why Mari contemplated the night sky and it brought all his foolish hopes to a quick end.

---

It was the fifth day after leaving Ma'in that the sky finally cleared and the rains stopped. They were completely out of Ma'in's view by then and were actually starting to see the change in the landscape. The trees had completely disappeared and the shrubs were thinning out also. Pretty soon the flat plains would get sandy and a few days after that the grasses under their feet would disappear completely. The wind that blew across the flats was hot and unlike the coastal air, much drier. The real shock was to find that the air had stilled. For five days they walked in pouring rain and camped in mud, expecting to walk into a desert ravished by kaus winds, but that was not to be.

The tumultuous air that caused the rainstorms on the coast did not touch the desert. On the contrary, the desert seemed surreal in its calmness and all of the Shammar, especially Lo'gan knew that it would not be the end. A few of the older nomads had lived long enough to know that it meant that deeper trouble was brewing and doubled their offerings of incense to the wind gods. Lo'gan knew it too. His dreams had disappeared in the eight days since leaving Miznih's brothel and that lead him to believe that something was building. Just like the natural world around him, his dreams had recessed for a period of rest and when they decided to attack again it would be without mercy.

It was thinking these very thoughts that Lo'gan happened to stumble across Mari. Since day one, he knew that Sheik Shammar would object to Mari sharing a tent with him. He hadn't really thought it possible to care about some other stiff's feelings, but Shammar's apology that first day sealed his decision. Besides, Mari did not need to be ostracized further. Everyone knew she was part of a harem once and that alone would brand her for life in certain circles. He couldn't remember the last time he made such a stupid decision, but he had a talk with Mari that first night. It took a while for her to comprehend what he was saying, but when she did, he could see that she understood.

It was decided that Mari would share a tent with widow Nisee. Lo'gan wasn't crazy about the idea, but she was a great aunt of Sheik Shammar himself and the one who had taken care of Nayif while they were hidden. So again, Lo'gan was alone and Mari was out of his reach. You would think that after thirty odd years of practice, Lo'gan would sleep easier on his own again, but it was not so. Riding all day with Mari's body in his firm grasp, he could not sleep the long hours at night alone. Once again, Lo'gan became an insomniac.

At first he figured that that was what caused him to temporarily lose his nightmares. But deep down he knew that wasn't the truth. The cause was much simpler – he was lonely and for someone who had spent his entire life alone, it was more than disconcerting to find that he couldn't even sleep anymore without a certain girl at his side. When he did find sleep it was at a big price. The night he held Mari on Miznih's roof haunted all his dreams and threatened his very sanity with images of her moaning and him touching and gods help him – that damned nipple ring.

So Lo'gan took to doing the thing that kept him sane all the years he had in existence. He would go out and meditate under the night sky. Joza had taught him that trick when he was just a boy and he had learned well. Unfortunately, the rain had not stopped, so he kept up his miserable nights in restless boredom in his tent for a few more days. After a while, when even Harabi was asking if he was feeling well, it finally did stop and Lo'gan waited until the entire camp was still before taking his leave that very same day.

Bringing Nayif along with him, Lo'gan walked away from the makeshift camp the Shammar had set in the moist ground and went to a nearby hill that would most likely provide a good view of the clearing sky. Trying futilely to banish thoughts of green eyes swaying rhythmically over him, Lo'gan sought his long denied solitude with nature and instead came face to face with the object of his torrid dreams.

They stared at each other for a few minutes before Mari smiled in her self-conscious way and Lo'gan felt capable of moving again. He walked stiffly over to the rock she was perched on and settling next to her, let Nayif's reins dangle to the ground. The stallion ambled away to munch on some grasses while both Mari and Lo'gan watched. Eventually, finding something to do, Lo'gan stripped off his outer robe and cavalierly welcomed Mari under it. Mari settled into his warm embrace after a second's thought but the easy familiarity they rode in all day was absent. They were alone and that opened up a world of possibility that made both distinctly nervous.

Eventually Lo'gan settled on the perfunctory. Mari had been contemplating the sky like he often did and like he had seen her do that night they escaped. It was a safe place to start, so he pointed up at a twinkling light caught in the pitch black and provided another name to her inventory.

"That's a star. Star."

Mari smiled again, this time a little sadder and Lo'gan wondered if he had somehow said something wrong. He brought her face up by the chin like he typically did and wordlessly asked. Mari thought for a minute before bringing up what she had clutched in her left hand. Lo'gan looked at it with a frown. He had seen her handling it before. It was special somehow but like with his mother, Lo'gan had not thought to ask why.

When they were at Miznih's Mari had hurried to rid herself of her harem's clothing, but had not moved to get rid of her jewelry at all, except to give a few of the girls pieces at random. Lo'gan understood those gestures were out of gratitude and friendship and it was a good idea to keep the pieces as currency, but it still bothered him to see her wearing things another man provided. Something deep inside him stirred at that and stiffening a little, he cleared his throat before speaking.

"It's nice."

Mari looked at the intricate carvings glimmering in the faint moonlight and smiled wistfully.

"Beautiful."

Lo'gan typically loved to watch Mari smile, but looked back up instead, wanting to feel anything but the jealousy that coursed through him at that moment.

"Sultan gave it to you?"

Mari snapped from her admiration of the bracelet cuff and peered up into Lo'gan's face. His voice was level but the muscles in his jaw were twitching. He was upset and for all the wrong reasons. She brought down her hand and the gold cuff clinked against the stone they were on.

"Sultan? No Sultan."

Lo'gan's jaw twitched again and despite his best effort not to look at Mari, turned to see the hurt in her eyes. She had understood what he had said and a spark of hope flickered in him, only to be tramped down by ever-present guilt.

"Then why……"

Lo'gan tightened his lips and instantly regretted bringing the whole thing up. Mari looked mortified when only a second ago she looked happy. They looked at each other silently until Mari brought the cuff in question up to the sky.

"Mari's family. Family……look."

Lo'gan didn't look, too drawn into her clear eyes to want to budge, so she pointed at it to draw his attention. When he did look, she reiterated with a lilting word he recognized was in her native language.

"Battavia. Mari's home."

Lo'gan looked back to see her tears and went to wipe them away, but Mari pushed his chin to move his face upwards again.

"Lo'gan look!"

He finally did look, really look and slowly it made sense. Mari had her index finger on the image of a lion made of eleven points carved into the wide gold band and he understood. It was a map. It wasn't a bracelet that the Sultan had given her, instead it was something from home. Ashamed of his assumption, Lo'gan moved to clutch at the hand and like his erotic dreams always began, brought the pale fingers to his lips.

"I didn't know. I'm sorry. Thata……that's to get home."

Mari closed her eyes at the contact and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She hated moments like this. Moments when she felt so torn she felt she would go crazy. She choked on a sob unexpectedly and a half second later was wrapped in Lo'gan's thick arms. They remained in the embrace until she didn't have any more tears and finally pulling apart, Mari wordlessly got up and walked back to the tent she shared with widow Nisee. It was unfair to become involved with Lo'gan and if she had to do it over, she wouldn't have at all. It just complicated things and things were complex enough. She had seen the hurt on his face when he understood that that cuff was a way home and she was tired of hurting him. It would all end and it would be for the better.

Lo'gan did not watch her go, instead kept looking on at the distant stars in the sky. Perhaps the Sultan hadn't given her the cuff, but it was actually worse now that he knew just how much she wanted to go back. Deep inside, he had hoped that time would change her mind. It would take weeks to reach the al Nafud desert and maybe Mari would change her mind and stay with him. Except it was clear now that that would not happen. She sometimes spent hours rubbing the cuff on her arm while riding or talking or laughing at Harabi's weak jokes. She contemplated going home all the time, more than he had thought possible and that killed all the faint hope he had harvested the past few days leaving Ma'in. Ignoring the acute ache in the pit of his stomach, Lo'gan sat there all night, thinking and wondering and tracing the curved trajectory of an eleven point lion as it moved across the sky.

---

Since that night, Lo'gan and Mari barely spoke. Even riding together from sun up until sun down, they said little and shared less. Once the rains stopped and the ground grew firmer, Sheik Shammar had been ordering a full camp set-up every night, which meant there was more work to do. The elder women carted off Mari the minute they stopped moving and kept her busy until nightfall. Lo'gan too was occupied in briefings with the men that attempted to explain why the coastal storm failed to affect the desert winds. With all the work, Mari and Lo'gan conveniently kept out of each other's reach and it wasn't until he zoned out of Shammar's latest meeting that Harabi noticed.

After Shammar finally concluded his new thoughts on the unpredictable weather patterns, the men dispersed and Harabi ambled over to where Lo'gan was busy setting up a sheep corral. To the untrained eye, Lo'gan looked as snarly and nonchalant as ever, but to an old pro like him, Harabi knew that Lo'gan was just trying to keep tabs on Mari who was trying her hand at kneading with the women a short distance away.

"Need help?"

Lo'gan took one look at Harabi's best effort to look unassuming and snorted distrustfully.

"No."

The Dawasir was unfazed however, and quickly picked up the rolled up fence to unfurl another section for Lo'gan to pound into the ground.

"That Shammar really is a bore, ain't he?"

Lo'gan quirked an eyebrow at the renowned conman and went through a mental list of things he might want. Coming up blank, he lifted the mallet he had been working with and not waiting for Harabi to back into a safe distance, brought the mallet crashing down onto a post. The move made a few of the kids still trying to herd the sheep behind them whelp and Harabi jump, but at least the post was all the way into the ground with one strike. Harabi swallowed hard and took another hasty step back to unfurl another yard long section of fencing.

"You seem tense."

Lo'gan paused as he swung the mallet in mid air and looked unbelievingly at his lanky partner.

"What?"

Harabi shifted his weight from one foot to the other and feeling courageous tried again.

"I was just worried, because you know, you and uhh, Mari seemed a little……"

A crash of a post being driven into the ground stopped him cold.

"That's none of your business, Dawasir……and I'm not `tense'."

Tempted to laugh at Lo'gan's expense, but quickly reminded of who had the mallet, Harabi moved into `so prove it' mode. The technique seldom worked with Lo'gan, but he was occasionally known to be lucky. It was actually his middle name. Plus he knew Lo'gan was not going to hurt him. They were past that already.

"Yeah, that's why she's there looking sad and you're here trying to look busy instead of well, practicing your words or doing whatever it is that you two do."

This time, Harabi was caught off guard when Lo'gan dropped the mallet and took a step closer to him. For a minute Harabi wondered if Lo'gan would hurt him……but then figured nah, he was only that scary looking because of the shitless deal. The man had plenty of thobe shirts, he knew this only because he'd been through his pack when the Jabir wasn't looking and yet he never wore them.

"What we do," Lo'gan thought that over and amended his threat, "or `not' do, is none of your damn business, Dawasir. So if you want to keep your parts intact, leave now."

Harabi stared at Lo'gan's stern features with mouth agape for a minute before deciding to lay it all on the line. Lo'gan might look threatening, but they both knew they were past the point he would actually hurt him. Bursting into an uproarious laughter, Harabi draped an arm over Lo'gan's shoulder and slapped him on the back. The boys that were busy herding the sheep near them, exchanged worried looks.

"Look Lo'gan. We are brothers and as such, you do not have to feel ashamed. It is all right. Trust me, women are hard to understand. This is nothing. Now tell Harabi what is going on and we'll make it better….."

Lo'gan deftly cut Harabi's words with his hold on his thobe's collar. With a snarl, he brought the younger man to his face, lifting him a few inches off the ground. Harabi stared at Lo'gan's furious gaze and wondered if he had miscalculated Lo'gan's tolerance. For him to be that testy, it must have been really bad.

"How many times have I told you that I am not your bro……"

"Lo'gan?!"

Harabi watched with inner glee as Lo'gan's eyes widened and he was dropped like a hot coal. Worse than that, Lo'gan was now the one patting him familialy on the back. Mari approached them with the look Miznih mastered; hands on hips, one eyebrow up, disapproving lips tightly pressed.

"Harabi, okay?"

The Dawasir suppressed an all out laugh and brushed the question away.

"Of course, of course Mari. I see you're cooking."

Mari looked down at her floury hands and shrugged a little.

"Cooking."

Harabi gave Lo'gan a sidewards glance full of triumph before stepping forward to intercept Mari. Lo'gan tensed a little when he saw him usher her away. He really didn't like it when Harabi touched her, but it was better than having him just stand there looking at her like a wordless idiot. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't speak to her anymore.

"Yeah, it smells great. Looking forward to it. Consider me your first customer."

Mari looked at Harabi questioningly and raised her other eyebrow. He always seemed to talk a step too fast to understand anything he said. It was superbly annoying, but she liked Harabi nevertheless. She had learned all her swear words from him and he did tricks like stand on his head to make her laugh when Lo'gan wasn't around.

"Custermerrr?"

"Yeah, hun. Customer. Why don't you go finish?"

With that Harabi gave her a slight shove that propelled Mari to where the other women pulled her back into their cooking frenzy. Mari looked back unsurely past Harabi's grin to where Lo'gan was staring at her with an unreadable expression. The two were always squabbling, but she did not really think Lo'gan could hurt Harabi anymore. They were past that already.

Removing her gaze away from Lo'gan's with some effort, Mari sighed heavily and returned her attentions to where she was being instructed on making the perfect yoghurt-cheese to accompany biscuits. Luckily she wasn't being quizzed, because she heard nothing of the lecture. Her thoughts were on the men a short distance away, no doubt talking about her and the dark eyes she knew were glued to every move she made.

It took all of her effort sometimes not to run over and fling her arms around her dark Bedouin, but she had made herself a promise. She would keep her distance from Lo'gan for the remainder of their trip because it was the right thing to do. She did not have a future with him and painful as it was, she knew things were better this way. Their relationship would escalate and if let alone would only make their separation harder. Mari only hoped that Lo'gan understood that it was not because she didn't care for him that she did not want to be around him, but because she cared too much.

Lo'gan leaned on one of the corral posts and looked at Mari, trying to keep up with her cooking tutorial. He really didn't think it was possible, but the distance between them was killing him. Slowly, but very surely, it was killing him. Thinking over the last three days, Lo'gan didn't even feel it when Harabi settled in next to him on the partially built fence. He was tempted to pound the guy, but he had a point, and he was frankly long past that anyway. Even Harabi knew that.

"I don't think I can do it."

Harabi smoothed out the thobe Lo'gan wrinkled when he grabbed him by the collar and muttered under his breath.

"Do what?"

Lo'gan thought over his reasons and went with the one that kept him awake the most.

"Let her go."

Harabi paused in mid brush and looked over at the man who was once his most hated rival. It was worse than he thought and out of his range of experience to boot. Not that he didn't have difficulties saying goodbye to Miznih, but at least she was there, ready to welcome him back with open arms whenever the winds blew him to Ma'in. Well, sort of. Lo'gan and Mari were different. Their time together was limited and inherently building up to that very certain good-bye.

"So don't."

Lo'gan raised an eyebrow and mentally swiped a stray lock of auburn hair behind Mari's ear from long distance. A few seconds later, she did it herself.

"How?"

Harabi scratched his head and thought that over, all urgency to corral sheep totally gone. The boys that were in charge of keeping them had been long gone to play somewhere else.

"You know, just don't say goodbye. You might see her again."

Lo'gan snorted and crossed his arms.

"She'll never leave her family again. She longs for them like I long for her."

Harabi processed that and admitted to himself that it was true. She loved him, he knew enough to know that, but she withdrew because she wanted to go home. It was a tough call.

"Then go with her."

Lo'gan shifted his weight and nodded his head in defeat.

"You know there might be conflict with the Sultan. My clan needs me and I can't let them down. You understand this. It is why you can't leave your father and stay with Miznih neither."

It was now Harabi's turn to snort in agreement. He kicked at the dusty soil under his feet and together they stood silent for a long time. Eventually everything around them grew darker and the sheep lay down to rest in their incomplete pen. The two friends brooded silently over their own dilemmas until something occurred to Harabi.

"Then if you can't go and she can't stay, wait for the third option."

Lo'gan finally took his gaze from Mari's cloaked form and looked at his companion, completely intrigued by a possibility he might not have credited.

"And what's that?"

Harabi placed a sympathetic hand on Lo'gan's shoulder.

"That's to let fate decide, Lo'gan. Just let fate decide."

With that, Harabi stood to his feet and went to continue his work on the corral. Lo'gan stood in place a few minutes longer, thinking over what that meant. Eventually he flexed his hands and went to pick up the mallet he had dropped on the ground. Thoughtfully and in complete silence, the two desert warriors finished their work as the sun set behind them.

The southernmost edges of the Rub al-Khali

Lo'gan and Mari huddled against the wind and bobbed in unison as Nayif trotted alongside the procession of people and animals that constituted the Shammar clan. They had traveled ten days out of Ma'in and the land was finally beginning to show the tell-tall signs of the vast desert that lay just beyond. Normally, that would be a welcome sight to everyone in the caravan tired of cramped city life, but this particular time, the desert they were walking back into looked remarkably different from the one they left behind only one month ago.

It was hotter and the air felt heavy which worried many people. At this point, the humidity of the coast should have vanished completely, but instead it hung on, following them further than necessary into the al-Khali. The subject on everyone's lips was why. Everyone had theories and everyone had ideas, but the truth to the matter was that only one person really knew. Unfortunately, Lo'gan was still reluctant to reveal his thoughts to anyone. With his father, it was easy to speak of his intuitions, but with Shammar, he still had lingering doubts. It would be awkward and Shammar will no doubt ask him why he felt those things. It wasn't that he was embarrassed of revealing his thoughts; it was simply a question that he couldn't answer. Lo'gan didn't know why, it just was.

He knew for instance, that giant air masses hovered over the land in great blankets. Those blankets shifted and moved and when given the right conditions, even collided with one another. And after months of speculation, Lo'gan finally understood what he had been feeling for so long. The blankets of air that covered the Arabian lands were falling out of sync and like any device that breaks unexpectedly, that could only mean disaster.

For the last few days, he had been especially quiet, even prompting a few sad inquiries from Mari to ask if he was okay. He brushed them all off and kept going, his mind processing and finally putting together what he had been witnessing for weeks on end. The natural order of things was slipping and as excited as he was over that profound discovery, he was equally burdened to find a way to deal with it.

Everyone knew that the skies over the desert were dry, hot and light and that the coastal air was heavy, moist and cool. What they did not know was that those winds sometimes moved enough to overlap and when they did, each unleashed all of the power they possessed. Together, the storm would have twice the intensity to fuel its fury. The rainstorm over Ma'in had been the beginning, but by no means a full manifestation of what was coming. The rainstorm they had encountered had somehow not transformed into a sandstorm and tired itself out over the dunes. It had stalled at the plains bordering the desert and waited and Lo'gan was sure that if he traveled seven days back to Ma'in that the rain would still be there. He had made a critical assumption in thinking the rain had died out after five days, the way it always did. Instead, they had simply walked out of its range.

Lo'gan furrowed his brow in concern and pressed his covered face to Mari's head as the final pieces fell into place. The masses would meet and they would do so right where they were. Right where the desert began and the plains ended. Right where the Shammar and another half dozen clans were crossing to get home.

Closing his eyes at the costly revelation, Lo'gan yanked at his stallion's reins and trotted up ahead to reach Shammar. Mari startled and asked what was wrong, but Lo'gan had little time to explain. Kissing her head tenderly through the edge of the ghutra that covered his nose and mouth, Lo'gan muttered that everything would be fine and caught up to the young sheik.

Shammar squinted at him through the slit in his ghutra and immediately at alert asked what was wrong. Lo'gan simply told him to call a meeting right away. By now all of the horsemen including Harabi had caught up to the two and Shammar weighed his options carefully.

Two mornings ago, shamals, which are sand-laden winds from the northern deserts, started to blow. They could last for weeks on end and swirl at 25-30 miles an hour. To make things worse, they brought sumooms, which are small vortexes of intense wind with them. Sumooms had been known to pick up entire camels with full gear without effort. Together the shamals and sumooms wrecked complete havoc on the two things essential for desert travel by erasing landmarks and shutting out the sky for long periods of time.

Fortunately, they were still at a point where they could see the sky, but Shammar knew it could be just a matter of time. Tomorrow morning they would most likely awaken to a world completely transformed. Already travel was near impossible and in their briefing that morning, the sheik had put to a vote whether or not they should continue. The vote was unanimous for one more day, but as mid morning approached and the sandstorm began to show its true strength, it became clear that they would not have a full day's travel. Lo'gan seemed to have a sixth sense about the winds, even predicting the sumooms in their last meeting so it would not hurt to hear him out again.

Decision made, the sheik turned to face his assembled warriors and ordered a complete stop for the day. He picked out two massive dunes that would offer some protection up ahead and gave the orders for a tight-huddled, protective camp between them. Accepting the decision without question, the horsemen immediately fell away to begin the process of stopping the hundred or so animals. With a curt nod to Lo'gan, Shammar himself then pulled to the head of the procession and blew the horn that signaled a uniform order.

Mari was usually very eager to ask Lo'gan about what the different signals meant, but she completely ignored them now, turning to look at Lo'gan pointedly. Lo'gan was too lost in thought, however, to really notice. That was what scared Mari the most. A few days back, she thought Lo'gan was upset over their situation, and although he probably was, he was preoccupied by something else now. Something she figured had something to do with the unruly weather they were presently in. Resuming her position on the saddle, Mari held him tightly as they made their way to the location that was obviously going to be their new camp.

Fifteen minutes later, she was looking at him retreat to where Harabi was waiting for him under Shammar's hastily set up canopy. He had given her a solemn half squeeze before he left and Mari couldn't help but feel miserable that Lo'gan couldn't even speak to her.

She had thought that things had actually gotten better the past few days. It still hurt to not talk or touch as much, but Lo'gan seemed to have understood where she was coming from. He still looked at her longingly and stood close by in case she needed something and it absolutely pained her to see him try and not touch in all those little ways that she craved, but it was all for the best. That was her mantra and she hoped it would be enough to keep her from flinging her arms around him and never letting go.

Sniffing back the tears before they threatened to show themselves, Mari moved to dismount Nayif and decided it was better to keep busy until he came back. It was pretty clear that whatever was going on was upsetting him immensely and wise or not, she had to help him with it.

Walking Nayif to the furthest edge of the tight concentric circle the Shammar clan was settling into, Mari pet him down a little. She didn't know how to set up a tent yet, but at least she could round up the animals and fetch her and Lo'gan's things. Adjusting her veil, Mari moved to retrieve the camel in the procession that belonged to Lo'gan. At first she couldn't tell any of them apart, but at this point she was confident she could pick Lira out of a hundred camels lined up.

Lira was especially tall, but not very gangly, had a medium sized lump, a darker colored coat and a very thick wool over her head. All in all one of the most well behaved camels in the bunch and thanks to her, now one of the better-looking ones. Mari had added a nice amount of fringe to her leads and harness and even a nice back blanket she traded for a little gold cat pin. Leading her to the spot she picked out for Nayif, Mari made sure she complimented her enough also, even getting on her tiptoes and reaching up as best she could to pet her head and offer her a date. It was something none of the others did, but she figured if an animal has carried her things without complaint in the heat and sand for hours on end, it deserved a little affection with its water as well.

Done a few minutes later with the petting, Mari looked around to see that many of the women were already done with setting their tents. Sighing heavily at her utter uselessness, Mari commanded Lira to sit and when she did after several tries, moved to unbuckle the many fittings around the camel's midsection. It was a task she could complete fairly well with the widow Nisee's camel, but Lo'gan's fastenings were tighter and his knots more complicated. Squinting against the sand that whipped around her, Mari continued to attack the super tight fittings in an effort to retrieve her things. It was useless however and stressed out about the storm, worried about Lo'gan and feeling helpless for being unable to even open a pack eventually gave up and sat against Lira. Nayif was watching her closely from nearby and Mari kicked at the sand in front of her in exasperation.

It was not a smart move however, and since the wind was blowing towards her, Mari was hit in the face with a handful of sand. Her veil had slipped so low, it did little to protect her from it and suddenly angry, Mari blinked the grit out of her eyes with tears and adjusted it a little higher. Nayif whinnied in criticism and defeated, Mari pulled her knees into a hug. She was upset, but she needed to calm down and it would not help to kick sand in her own face. Closing her eyes like she had seen Lo'gan do when he was trying to concentrate, Mari snuggled up against Lira's wooly side and tried breathing deeper. The headcloth covering the lower half of her face did not help much, but at least it blocked the sand out.

Slowly allowing her mind to ease, Mari was taken back to when she first traveled with Battam. Everything was so new and strange at that time and she often found herself wondering about the headdresses that Arabian women wore. They folded a very large square piece of black linencloth into a triangle and secured it tightly around their heads like a kerchief with the drape flowing down their backs. It was an odd accessory that she didn't understand, but having had crossed the deserts to Ma'in under good conditions with a hooded cloak on, had little use for.

In the past few days, however, the desert had come alive and even Lo'gan draped his long ghutra ends over the bottom half of his face. The winds whipped at her clothes and grated her skin relentlessly and she suddenly understood the practicality of headdresses. Lo'gan had given her one he traded from the widow Nisee a few days back and she had worn it ever since. Like everyone else, the only parts of her face visible now were her eyes. In a way it made Mari feel good. She looked just like everybody else and that had an amazing appeal to it. The only problem was that she was curled up next to a camel in a sandstorm instead of inside a tent like everyone else.

Rolling her eyes and gathering her conviction, Mari stood up on her feet and turned to face the pack on Lira's back that miraculously turned into a home in the right hands for a second try. But before she could even get started, something drew her attention and temporarily made her forget the relentless winds all around her. Squinting with all her might in an effort to sharpen her vision, Mari looked beyond Lira's imposing hump to the dunes in the distance and the strange beacon she saw there. A few seconds later, she was gone, her footprints instantly erased by the wind behind her.

---

Lo'gan scratched his head in annoyance and looked at Shammar once more. He had been trying to convince him and his counsel that the best weather was back on the plains, but was having a hell of a time trying to put his point across. After having traveled and slept in mud for a half week, the Shammar were simply not crazy about going back.

"So will you do it?"

The sheik let out a long, pained breath and shook his head.

"I have many reasons why I shouldn't; the weather is always better over the dunes, the animals are not built for mud travel, you will be unsafe back in Ma'in territory and we already have five people sick from cold. It is not acceptable and if we return, more will get sick. If my animals catch illness then we will lose entire herds."

Lo'gan tightened his jaw and reiterated his counter argument once more in a slow deliberate tone. He hated politics, negotiations and the like, but it seemed that was all he was involved in since heading out to Ma'in.

"This is not your typical storm. It will get much, much worse before it gets better and you will have more liabilities if you get lost in it. Tomorrow you will see the sun and stars no more and you will be walking in circles. Turn around now and you can plunk down in the rain for a while longer. You said so yourself, your traders will not be up north for at least three months and Harabi and me can leave you to avoid attracting trouble. It can be done."

A grumble passed through the crowd of gathered men and Shammar rubbed his left temple. Lo'gan waited patiently while the sheik gathered his thoughts.

"You have a good argument, a valid argument, but you……it is based on the assumption that this storm will intensify. I don't really think it will. But even then I am not sure. How can you, Lo'gan al Jabir, be so sure? Not even the oracles speak with that kind of security."

Harabi turned to look at his partner. It was exactly the same thing he was wondering. Lo'gan took his customary pause before beginning again.

"Because I do. This storm will cripple you and if you do not head back by tomorrow it will be too late. I realize my word may not be enough for the men gathered here, but it is what I know. You can choose how you see fit. I will leave you to decide."

Having said all he was going to, Lo'gan stood to leave. Harabi followed him and the remaining horsemen began to all speak at once regarding the situation. Shammar stayed where he was and tuned out the commotion. He knew the horsemen would be divided and the decision would come down on him. It was never easy making decisions where people will always be displeased and he longed for his father's guidance. He was always so sure of himself and Shammar would give anything to feel a fraction of that confidence at that moment. It all came down to trusting Lo'gan or his common sense and it was a harder decision than he thought possible.

---

Lo'gan raised the cloth that served to cover his features as he walked out of Shammar's canopy and immediately looked to the borders of the camp cluster to where he knew Mari would be. He hadn't exactly been forthcoming with her with what he had been contemplating and she was worried. Ready or not, he had to speak to her. Nodding absently when Harabi bid farewell and went to find his own gear, Lo'gan cut a path through the wind to the edge of the camp being set up against twenty mile an hour wind.

Spotting Nayif off to one side hoofing the ground under him, Lo'gan walked to him, finding it odd that he was alone and Mari nowhere around. Catching the reins dangling on the ground, Lo'gan figured Mari was really upset at him. She usually waited around and watched him unpack and asked what things were. It still fascinated her to see a bundle turn into a home, but lately, in keeping with their new awkwardness, she just watched. Thinking she finally decided to just give up on him completely, Lo'gan pet Nayif's long snout poignantly. Maybe it was better this way. A quick finish now would save them the heartache later. Only it still ached now and that was just unbearable.

Eventually he turned to see where his camel was, knowing that if he stood there and thought about Mari, he would be paralyzed for hours. And why do it now if he had all night to torture himself? Patting Nayif half-heartedly one last time, Lo'gan walked to the nearby train that connected the pack animals to find his. Only she wasn't there. Lida was a usually a very reliable animal, but she had the tendency to wander if left untied. Bracing a hand against the wind to see better, Lo'gan searched the camp. She couldn't have gotten very far and was probably raiding someone's date supply.

Knowing exactly what he needed to do, Lo'gan walked back along the perimeter of the camp to open one of the small packs he had fitted on Nayif's saddle. Alongside his short dagger and water, he had a small suede pouch full of dates that he used to draw the beast in. He typically didn't like to travel with so much food, but since his runaway camel pulled this stunt at least once a week, it was a necessity. What Lo'gan didn't expect however, was to find his date pouch opened, half empty and judging from the sticky residue over the remaining dates, slimed in camel saliva. Throwing down what remained of his emergency camel dates to the ground, Lo'gan turned to look at his stallion.

"And you let her do this?"

Nayif flickered his ears and said nothing, leaving Lo'gan alone in his search. He started by looking down on the ground. The blowing wind was making a good job of hiding the evidence, but the ground was still littered in date bits. Walking alongside them, Lo'gan followed the sparse trail until it disappeared into the sand. It was then that Lo'gan looked up and almost choked when he spotted a tall hump in the distance. Lira had mysteriously walked into the desert and for the life of him, Lo'gan couldn't figure out why. But it would do no good to wait any longer to go fetch her.

Walking back to Nayif, Lo'gan mounted his horse and tiredly headed off in Lira's direction. At that same instant, Shammar had left his canopy to find Lo'gan and tell him of his decision. Except it was already too late and Lo'gan was gone. Straining to see what it was that propelled him to suddenly just pick up and leave, the young sheik sent for Harabi and went to fetch his horse as well.

---

Mari's feeling that she had done something amazingly stupid quadrupled when she crossed the last sand bank leading to the fire. It was already difficult to breathe, but the smell of burning and the smoke made it near impossible, especially with the wind pushing it in her direction. Everything in her was screaming to turn and run back to the Shammar camp, but curiosity drove her and she had a strong suspicion that she couldn't find her way back in the thick storm even if she tried. She was as good as lost and after twenty minutes of walking against the wind, tired as well.

Finding her resolve now mixed with fear, Mari used her hands to help climb up the last sand dune that stood between her and the mystery. Almost to the top, Mari paused and looked back one last time. Seeing nothing of the Shammar camp and feeling incredibly foolish for having gone alone, she crouched down low to the ground before crawling to the top. What she saw almost made her throw up.

It was a camel, still wearing its pack; charred and smoldering and irrevocably dead. Mari's stomach turned and slapping one hand over it and another over her mouth, gagged on the smell. It was awful and as her field of vision improved in the wind, Mari realized that it was not the only one. Just beyond it there was another and after that another. Mari squinted in the gusty wind and let out a gasp when it blew the smoke clear away to reveal the complete story. The entire valley was littered with burnt heaps and among the blackened corpses of camels, Mari could make out smaller shapes, huddled protectively into themselves like……people.

Feeling her stomach wretch violently, Mari tore her headdress off in time to empty her breakfast onto the sand. Her stomach seized on her a couple of times and when nothing else came up, Mari staggered to her feet and stumbled back down the dune. It took her a second to process what she had seen but what was out there was not just a few corpses. She had the distinctly lucid feeling that if she would have continued past the first few bodies, the valley behind it would reveal an entire clan dead in the sand – people and all.

Tightening her eyes shut, Mari felt her head grow faint and her legs buckle. She landed on her knees again, and now uncovered to the elements, fought to keep breathing in the swirling sandstorm. It was not easy in the least. Kneeling at the foot of the dune, Mari covered her face with her hands and willed her nerves to calm down. She needed to think clearly and she needed to do it quick. Her panicked mind reached out with a single name only a second later. Lo'gan. She had to go back and tell Lo'gan.

Embracing the idea with every bit of resolve she had left, Mari got to her feet and was about to start walking back to where she thought the Shammar camp was when a bellow stopped her in her tracks. Mari blinked and hoped it was all her imagination, but that defiant little voice inside her assured her that it wasn't. The possibility that whoever had done this horrible thing, might still be near didn't cross her until then and Mari had to actually struggle to not let her reasoning mind be overcome with fear.

Suddenly the priority was not to head back to camp, but to avoid that sound again at all costs. There was practically no way she could see very far past the sand swirling around her, so Mari thought back to an old trick her Uncle Cloarin had taught her. Finding the ability to move again, Mari crouched low to the ground and closed her eyes to listen for the sound again.

It was a good long minute before the sound repeated but when it did, it was directly behind Mari's left ear. Terrified beyond comprehension, Mari screamed and started running blindly into the storm. Equally terrified, Lida bellowed again in response and ran after Mari. Of course Lida was a much faster runner and she had no difficulty keeping up with her keeper, actually bunting her head against Mari's side. This caused Mari to stumble again and fall hard. Fortunately, Mari's clouded mind recognized the wooly neck pressed to her and now seeing her attacker clearly, stared at the camel for a few seconds before launching herself at the wooly beast.

The relief to see Lida, so alive and whole was overwhelming. Remembering she had two more dates left in her cloak pocket, Mari offered them to the camel before taking Lida's leads. Wiping her tears away, Mari looked around again and temporarily disoriented as to which way to go looked for smoke. When she spotted it, trailing gray and thin into the swirling sky not too far away, Mari started walking in the opposite direction, leading her camel and moving as fast as she could in the swirling sand with a protective arm over her face.

Now completely blind against the wind, Mari trudged through the sand unaware that Lo'gan was just minutes away. He had heard her scream carried by the wind and was now speeding over the fading trail his camel had left behind. Eventually they were completely gone, but something new caught his eye. In his rush to follow Lida, he had somehow missed the faint smoke up ahead. Dropping his face protection to gather at his neck, Lo'gan sampled the air and confident that there was definite trouble, tore off again at full speed.

Eyes fixed on the trailing smoke, he almost failed to notice the huddle of his camel up ahead. It was only out of luck that a gust of wind cleared his visibility and he realized who it was.

"Mari!!"

Clutching her chest in the third fright she had suffered in less than ten minutes, Mari choked on a sob and dropped Lida's reins. She couldn't make out the figure in the distance, but the voice was unmistakable. Breaking into a full run, she screamed for the one person that could make it better.

"Lo'gan!"

Peering as best he could through the thrashing sand, Lo'gan bounded off his horse before it had even stopped and ran to Mari. Her hair was everywhere and she was crying, redder then Lo'gan had ever seen her and he didn't know where to begin. Squeezing tight, Lo'gan breathed into her hair.

"Dammit, Mari. What the hell are you doing out here?"

Remembering her ghastly discovery, Mari pushed off of Lo'gan and looked back from where she came. Lo'gan furrowed his brow in concern. In his rush to follow his wandering camel and then the scream he heard, he had temporarily forgotten about the smoke dissipating into the wind. Nayif hoofed angrily behind him, showing his distaste for the one thing he hated even more than rain. Lo'gan stilled him with an order and turned back to Mari. Behind them, Shammar and Harabi were arriving, just in time to hear Mari's words. Lo'gan hadn't known he was being followed, but glad that he was, acknowledged them with a nod and cradled Mari's face in concern.

"Did you see?"

Mari nodded furiously, causing the tears that had welled in her eyelids to spill over.

"Yes, Lo'gan. Dead camels…Bedoiuns. Dead."

Hearing all he had to, Harabi pulled back on his horse, dismounted and withdrew his Khanjar. He too had seen the smoke and the smell in the air could not be a good one. Shammar stood behind a second longer, never having seen Mari so uncovered. Mesmerized by the strange auburn hair whipping around her face, he didn't move until Lo'gan kissed her forehead and mumbled something about smoke. Snapping into himself, Shammar dismounted too to follow Harabi and give the couple a moment.

Mari barely noticed their departure, focusing solely on the man before her. She wasn't so sure about Lo'gan leaving, but she knew there really was no choice. Lo'gan kissed away the tears he could off her face and moved her to where Nayif was snorting distastefully.

"I need you to stay here, Mari, understand? With Nayif."

Mari sniffed once more and nodded, flickering her irritated eyes to the two shapes that were climbing the sand dune to the gory scene beyond it. This was a serious situation and definitely not the time to act childish. Letting go of Lo'gan's robe reluctantly, Mari leaned into the stallion behind her and tried her hardest to look confident.

"Lo'gan go. Mari okay."

Lo'gan searched her face, torn between running to join the others and taking Mari back to camp. But already in the background he could hear an angry exchange of words between Harabi and Shammar, so there was really no choice. Finding Lida's leads, he quickly tied them to Nayif's saddle brunt and helped Mari up into the saddle.

"Just stay here with Nayif and Lida and I'll be back. I'll be right back, darling."

Lo'gan squeezed Mari's hand to make sure she understood and seeing enough indication that she did, pulled off the drape around his neck and wrapped it tightly around Mari's head. Mari clutched at the linen gratefully and Lo'gan turned to join the other two horsemen. They were already at the top of the dune in question and their body language was not very assuring.

Lo'gan could see that Harabi was shaking his head in distaste and Shammar had a hand on his forehead. What was more distressing was the Khanjar in the sheik's right hand. Lo'gan wasn't sure, but he would have sworn Shammar didn't even carry one. The fact that he was gripping one so tightly now was not a good omen. Jogging the last of the way to catch up to them, Lo'gan held his breath in preparation and charged ahead into the unknown.