Chapter 6
Crawford opened his eyes. The first thing that he noticed was that Elizabeth was no longer wrapped around him, no longer anywhere in his tent. He had held her most of the night, formulating a long list of questions that he intended on asking her. He remembered seeing the first glimpse of light as the sun began to break over the horizon. He must have fallen asleep shortly after that. He cursed himself for giving in to his own weariness and climbed, quickly to his feet.
As he left his tent he ran straight into Harrhas. “Where is she?” demanded Crawford.
“She left shortly after daybreak, heading east,” he answered. “She will be back.”
“How do you know?” asked Crawford.
“She has done this before. The first time Anyakalha followed her. There are caves, about 10 miles from here. She spends time there, often leaving before daybreak and returning to the camp under the cover of darkness. She came to our tent this morning, changed her clothes and left with food and water,” he said.
“Who is she, Harrhas?” Crawford pressed.
“I do not know, Lieutenant. She cries out, sometimes, in her sleep. Words I don’t understand. My English is limited,” he replied.
“She is American,” responded Crawford, matter-of-factly.
“American?” asked Harrhas.
“I believe so. Get me some food and water and point me in the direction of the caves, I’m going to find out,” said Crawford as he walked away to ready his camel.
Several hours later he came upon them. The tiny abandoned village of caves carved into the surrounding sandstone was before him. There was no sign of her. He signaled to the camel that he wished to dismount by striking it on the back of its neck with a stick. As the camel folded its legs and lowered itself onto the sand, Crawford slid off the saddle. He shielded his eyes against the bright noon sun and looked off into the distance.
There was a patch of darkness encroaching. He had never seen anything like it. It was a massive wall almost a mile high, moving towards him like a freight train.
“Elizabeth!” he shouted. He voice echoing off the surrounding walls of the caves. He pulled, forcefully on the reins of the camel, encouraging it to once again stand. “Elizabeth!” he shouted again.
The sand and dust were whipping about him now. The storm was getting closer. The sky darkened as the wall of sand all but obliterated the sun. The camel fought against him as he struggled to keep a tight hold on the reins. The fine grains blew towards him unrelenting. They forced their way into his mouth, into his nostrils and between his closed eyelashes.
“Lieutenant!” he heard her call, and then he felt her hand on his sleeve. He couldn’t easily see, but he moved as quickly as he could in her direction. Doing his best to keep a strong hold on his struggling beast.
As they moved towards the rock formation he spotted a narrow opening to his right. Elizabeth guided him and the camel towards it. Once inside he could see. Although the sand and dust continued to blow about him, it was more tolerable. They were at the beginning of a long, narrow gorge. It was no more than 2 meters wide. Along the walls he saw a conduit, presumably once used for carrying water. There were other rock formations as well. He stopped and looked at his surroundings.
“God statues,” she said, pointing to the small rectangular and round bas-reliefs. “They’re 2nd century, AD. That is the Nabataean God, Dushrat.”
He looked at her and cocked his head to the side, saying nothing.
“Great!” she said as she began to climb a set of stairs that had been carved into the rock. “Now you can’t talk?”
“Oh, I can talk,” he responded as he dropped the reins of the camel and reached out for her arm. He grasped only air as she scurried out of reach. He was quick to follow behind her, catching up just as she reached the mouth of a rather large cave.
“You’re American,” he said.
She turned around and glanced briefly in his direction before entering the cave. Once inside she removed her veil and faced him in the semi-darkness, her gaze unwavering. “Thank you for last night.”
“It was my pleasure,” he replied with a slight bow.
“Your extreme pleasure?” she teased.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he responded.
“I know. I just couldn’t be sure,” she said.
“Of?” he asked.
“Of you. Of anything,” she replied.
“So, it was all a ruse,” he concluded.
“No. No it wasn’t. It wasn’t all a ruse,” she said as she knelt down and turned her attention to lighting the oil lamp that rested on the floor. Once lit, it cast a warm glow against the already orange interior walls of the cave.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I like this place. It’s peaceful. I like to come here and sit amongst the ghosts,” she said.
“Ghosts?” he asked looking about nervously.
Elizabeth laughed, “Not really. I just like to imagine how it was, back then.”
“I actually meant, what are you doing in Arabia?” he clarified.
“That’s a bit complicated,” she said as she searched through her satchel and extracted the beginnings of a meal. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” he admitted. “When I discovered you were gone I set out, straight away. I haven’t eaten yet. I have water and something Harrhas packed. Don’t know what,” he said as he began to search through the contents of his own satchel.
“Let’s keep yours for later. We could be here awhile,” she said as she laid out in front of them the bread, rice, and the leftover meat that she had brought.
“A veritable feast!” he proclaimed, clapping his hands in jest. “Come, dine with me! I will gorge myself to my hearts content and you, you lucky girl, can dance for me!”
“Oh, my lord. But I am so undeserving of such an honor. And, I obviously am wearing far, far too may clothes!” she replied, looking down at her modest robes, and enjoying the banter.
As she looked back up she noticed that his eyes had widen at her comment. He swallowed, hard, and looked away. After a moment of awkward silence he reached for some food. They sat, quietly, across from one another, eating in silence.
“How long will the storm last?” he asked.
“Hard to tell,” she responded. “At least a few hours, possibly through the night.”
He shifted so that his back was braced up against the wall of the cave and he stretched his legs out in front of him. After a few more moments she glance over towards him. He was looking directly at her, his piercing blue eyes full of questions.
She looked away, afraid. She was afraid of his questions, but even more afraid of her answers.
“Can I call you Elizabeth?” he asked.
She nodded slightly.
A minute passed, then two. “Well, alright then. I have an idea!” he announced.
She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Come over here,” he said patting the ground next to him.
She smiled, self-consciously as she stood and walked towards him. “Are you sure the dancing it out?” he asked as she reached him.
Elizabeth frowned, placing her hands on her hips.
“No? Maybe later,” he responded as he held open his arms.
She sat down and readily melted into his embrace. “This feels nice,” she admitted.
He kissed the top of her head and murmured, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
She leaned up, looked into his eyes and asked, “What is it you would most like to know, Lieutenant?”
“First off, we’ve already spent the night together. So, I think you can call me Will,” he said.
“What is it you would most like to know, Will?” she asked.
“Why were you crying last night? It was heart breaking, your pain. Did, did they hurt you?” he asked, hesitantly.
“Not…like that. It’s just, I’ve been so afraid and so alone for so very long,” she said as she once again laid her head on his chest.
“You’ve been in Arabia a long time?” he asked.
“No. It’s been going on since before that,” she said, dreamily. “Last night I was thinking about my mothers death, it wasn’t long ago. Then, I found myself reliving the moment I found out about my father. He was killed near here, at Wadi Ais, not long ago.”
“Then there was the massacre at Wadi Turras,” he added.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I-I can’t talk about that. Not now. For the longest time I couldn’t talk at all. I couldn’t even bear to think. Slowly I came back to myself. Remembering. I was trying desperately to figure out what to do, how to proceed. Then I saw you.”
“Proceed?” he asked.
“Shh!” she said, resting a finger on top of his lips. “You’ve used up your one question for now. Get some rest, Will. I know that you didn’t sleep last night.”
He reclined onto the floor of the cave and pulled her close, spooning against her back, allowing her head to rest in the crook of his arm. “Maybe just a short nap,” he agreed as he closed his eyes. “But you better not leave me,” he added. “You better bloody well be here when I wake up.”
“I won’t leave you,” he heard her promise as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 7
His arm was draped casually over her waist and his body was molded against hers. Within seconds of her promise to stay with him she heard his breathing slow. She found the pattern of this breathing comforting and somehow familiar as he steadily inhaled and exhaled against the back of her neck. He had been asleep like this for some time, hours in fact.
Elizabeth shifted a bit, searching for a softer spot on the floor of the cave. Her shoulder was beginning to hurt but she didn’t want to wake him. She, too, was a bit tired from the morning’s long walk. She was used to traveling miles on foot in the desert, but usually she made it a point to rest up the night before. This morning, she was still a little spent from the prior night’s emotional outburst. Spent and embarrassed. It wasn’t like her to display her emotions like that, not even in private. Somehow he had drawn it out of her. Maybe that was a good thing? She didn’t know. Elizabeth listened to the wind outside and wondered how long they would be here, together. She was startled by the realization that she hadn’t been thinking in terms of how soon it would be over, but rather how long it would last.
A peaceful smile began to form on her lips as she, too, closed her eyes. He murmured something in his sleep, something unintelligible. As he did so, his body moved even closer to hers and his right hand, the one that had been resting protectively on her stomach, began to wander up her torso. It apparently found its target as he cupped her left breast in his hand. He gently began to knead the full, round globe. At the same time Elizabeth became aware of his growing arousal. He murmured something again, his lips moving against her neck. As she struggled to listen he tilted his hips forward, gently pushing his hardness against her bottom while he moved one leg between hers.
Her body was betraying her, reacting without thought. As she felt his hand cup her breast her breathing momentarily stopped. She was at once terribly afraid of both moving and not moving. Then she felt his knee as it instinctively prodded her legs apart and his growing erection. He squeezed her breast again. Responding to his need, her legs parted and she pushed back, meeting his thrust. That’s when it happened. An involuntary moan escaped her mouth. But that wasn’t the awkward part. The awkward part was that it was loud enough to wake him.
She held her breath for a moment, thinking that perhaps she was wrong. But, no, he had definitely stopped moving and his breathing pattern had changed.
“You’re awake?” she whispered.
After a moment’s silence he answered, “I’m sorry. It seems that while I slept my hand developed a mind of its own.”
“I noticed,” she said as she shifted to roll over. In doing so she again brushed up against his swollen member eliciting an involuntary groan.
“But you’re awake now,” she added, pointedly glancing down at the hand that still covered her breast.
He quickly sat up and moved away from her. “I must apologize, Miss Elizabeth. I simply don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again, I assure you that-”
She leaned over and placed her fingers over his lips. She noticed how full and soft they were now that they had healed. She lightly traced the outline of his bottom lip with her finger as she gazed, hungrily at his mouth, wondering what it would taste like.
He reached up abruptly and grasped her wrist. “Please,” he heard himself plead as he searched her eyes for a sign, “don’t play with me.”
Her chest, none too subtlety began to rise and fall matching the pace of her increasingly rapid breathing. His eyes were fixed on hers, unwavering and filled with raw desire.
“Will?” she whispered.
His eyes glanced down at her mouth, anxiously awaiting her next words. Time seemed to stand still and he suddenly wondered if he was dreaming. “Yes?”
“I didn’t push you away,” she said. As he looked up into her eyes, trying to gauge her meaning she glanced away momentarily, a flush rising in her cheeks. But within seconds her green eyes were once again there, looking with longing into his. “I’m not pushing you away now.”
It was all the invitation he needed. In that moment there was nothing else, nothing but her. With one, swift pull on her wrist he managed to tug her body flush to his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her back and crushed his lips to hers.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss my any means. It was bruising. It was a kiss that matched his need. It was filled with longing and passion and something slightly more primitive. She gasped, slightly shocked at the intensity of it. As her lips involuntarily parted his tongue moved into her mouth, exploring the wet cavern, memorizing it as he laid her down onto the dirt floor of the cave.
He so didn’t want to scare her, this brave, stubborn, slip of a girl. He knew that he had to get control of himself. He purposely began to slow down the kiss, gently caressing her tongue with his before finally pulling back. His eyes remained closed as he rested his forehead against hers, holding her beautiful face in his hands.
As he opened his eyes he felt instant shame. There, on her bottom lip, was a droplet of blood. He watched as her tongue emerged from her mouth to taste it.
“I hurt you,” he said as he watched another drop emerge, taking the place of the first’s.
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
But he wasn’t assured, not at all. “It’s been a long time for me,” he admitted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, touched a woman. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice.”
Elizabeth leaned forward and after rubbing her soft cheek against the side of his face she released a sigh and shared, “Me too. And just so you know, my reference point for comparison is limited to one very forgettable night.”
He smiled at the promise of what was to come as he pulled back to look at her face. He spotted the droplet of blood that still clung to her lower lip, tainting it. He wanted desperately to make love to this woman, tenderly and gently. At the same time he wanted to possess her, mark her; make her his and his only. He leaned forward and lapped at the blood, erasing the evidence of his bruising assault. She moaned and tilted her head back slightly, exposing her lips and neck to him. “Tonight will not be forgettable,” he said quietly, as he moved to stand up.
Confused, she looked up at him, wondering if she had done something wrong. She watched as he turned towards the entrance to the cave.
“Where are you going?” she asked with trepidation. “Have I done something wrong? I know I’m not very good, but-”
He moved back towards her swiftly, kneeled down, and caressed the side of her face with the palm of his hand. “Shh. Don’t say that. You’re bloody marvelous. You’re all I want right now. I’m just going to get some supplies. I have a bedroll and something to start a fire with. Wasn’t sure we’d be here that long, so I left them with the camel. I’ll be right back, luv.”
“But the storm?” she asked.
He stood up, looked down at her and smiled fondly. “You look at me with those big green eyes and I find myself ready and willing to move mountains for you. You, Miss Elizabeth, are going to be trouble for me. I can tell already,” he said as he backed out of the cave and into the storm.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth began to unroll the bedroll that he had brought up. It was a modest pallet that he apparently carried with him and used as a crude bed. There were also two blankets, but no pillow. After William tossed the roll and a large flask into the cave he went back to gather the supplies for the fire.
She opened the flask and sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell before replacing the cap. She placed the lighter of the two blankets on top of the makeshift bed and quickly slipped out of her robe. She made an attempt to smooth her hair before lying down and pulling the heavier blanket over her, covering her nakedness. It had been some time since she had seen herself in a mirror and she suddenly felt self-conscious.
William walked back through the entrance to the cave and was momentarily startled. She had opened up his bedroll and was lying there, waiting for him. The worn, shabby blanket that he had slept with so many nights tucked around her obviously nude body. She sat up, onto her elbows and silently watched him as he went about arranging the wood and tinder for their fire. Once the fire had started he stood up and looked at her, hesitant.
“You know,” she said, teasingly, “I’ve already seen you naked.”
“What if this is all a dream?” he asked out loud.
“Well, it’s not my dream! If this were my dream we’d be in a nice hotel, with a big huge bed, a bathroom with a marble tub, and room service,” she said, smiling brightly.
William laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh as he considered the paradox that was the woman in front of him. He removed the cloth from around his head, letting it drop, carelessly to the ground. He reached for the flask, loosened the cap, and offered it to her.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“Scotch,” he replied. “Very good, very old scotch. I’ve been saving it, for a special occasion, or my imminent death, whichever came first.”
“Alcohol and I are not very mixey,” said Elizabeth.
“Really?” he asked as he took a sip. “Here, hold this,” he said, handing her the flask as he slipped out of his robes before joining her under the blanket.
She felt suddenly nervous as he began to undress and modestly lowered her eyes. A moment later she felt him lift the side of the blanket and slip in along side her.
“Really,” she said trying to hand the flask back to him. He ignored it and instead laid down.
“What happens when you drink?” he asked curiously.
“I turned into Cave Buffy. It wasn’t pretty. I was impulsive and stupid. I ended up, well, you know, I-” she drifted off.
“Cave what?” he asked reaching for the flask and taking a sip.
“Buffy, nickname from college,” she explained.
“And, what is it that you did exactly?” he questioned.
“I…I had sex,” she whispered.
“You regretted it,” he responded handing the flask back to her.
She looked at him, his expression open and caring as she tilted the flask to her lips taking a sip. As the amber liquid hit her tongue a shudder spontaneously passed through her body. “Blech!” she said, “It tastes like-”
“What?” he asked taking the flask back.
“I don’t know, let me have another taste,” she said.
He smiled and handed the flask back to her, watching with amusement as she took a second sip and again made a face, “Smoke,” she declared. “It tastes like smoke.”
“Yeah,” he said wistfully.
“Don’t tell me you smoke too?” she asked.
“Not here, not now,” he said taking one last sip and replacing the cap.
“Good! Don’t start again. Kissing someone that smokes is yucky,” she declared.
“Yucky?” he asked.
“Are you making fun of me?” she challenged.
“Never!” he promised. “I take you very seriously,” he concluded as he slipped his hand behind her neck and moved in slowly, leaning over her body and brushing his lips with hers, in the sweetest of kisses.
As he languidly explored her lips and her mouth he carefully laid her down onto the pallet. Finally, with a measure of regret, he disengaged from the kiss looking contentedly upon her swollen lips. “I could get so lost in you,” he declared, his voice raspy, reflecting the passion that was building inside of him.
His declaration won her heart. Never had she felt so wantonly in need of experiencing physical passion. Never had the thought of being with someone felt so right. In that moment she needed him like she needed air. She had no fears, no doubts. There was only him. Here. Now.
Elizabeth rose up and flipped them, effortlessly changing their positions. She hovered over his body and gazed down into his surprised eyes. As a smirk formed on his lips he asked her, “Have me where you want me, pet?”
“Almost,” she declared as she moved to straddle his hips.
It was his turn to gasp. His erection was rock hard now. She was sitting forward enough that it was aligned against her backside. The blanket no longer covered her. Now that the splendor of her body was exposed, he couldn’t help but rake over her with his lust-filled eyes.
“Want to touch you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion as his hand hovered over a breast.
“I’m here,” she replied, arching forward so that her breast filled his hand.
He sat up, suddenly and latched on to her right breast. Sucking on her now erect nipple. She rolled her head back and moaned softly. As she did so her long blonde hair grazed his kneecaps. He kissed his way up over the tops of her breasts, her collarbone, and the side of her neck. He could feel her growing wetness against his lower stomach. She leaned back up and met his gaze. Her expressive green eyes locked with his intense blue. Their breathing had at some point become synchronized. As the seconds ticked away they sat there and merely looked upon one another, a slow smile forming on both their lips.
Crawford wrapped one arm around her waist and gracefully swept her off of him, depositing her beside him. He positioned himself over her, her knees parting to welcome him.
“I need you inside of me,” whispered Elizabeth, as he brushed a stray piece of hair out of her eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers.
“Yes. I’m sure about you,” she responded, tilting her hips up slightly, giving him full access to her.
When his velvet head begged entrance she gasped. He leaned down and placed an almost chaste kiss on her mouth. As he did so, he began to glide inside of her, sheathing himself in her warm, wet channel. He pulled back from the kiss and searched her eyes for any signs of doubt or discomfort. There wasn’t any. She had never felt so certain of anything in her life.
“I want to make love to you,” he said out loud as he continued to push inside while searching her eyes.
“I want that too,” she responded, lacing her fingers through his sun-bleached locks while lifting her hips to meet his slow thrusts.
Crawford began to slide in and out of her, struggling to maintain control at first. And then he looked upon her lovely face, now flush with passion. “My God,” he whispered, “you look so beautiful. I don’t want this moment to ever end. You’re so wet, you feel so good, so tight.”
As he spoke to her she found herself flush brighter, embarrassed by his words. “Don’t be embarrassed, luv,” he said, as he caressed the side of her face and leaned down to shower kisses upon it.
Tears filled her eyes as they continued this ancient dance in a painfully slow rhythm. There was nothing in the world but the two of them. Their bodies seeking out pleasure from one another’s; pleasure and comfort. But there was more. This was different, so different than the last time she had been with a man. This was… he was…beautiful.
“Am I hurting you? Shall I stop?” he asked, aware that her eyes were moist with tears.
“No. It’s just that, this feels different than I remember,” she said as she ran her hands down his back and brought her knees up. “You’re so…close to me,” she whispered as she wrapped her legs around his lower back and squeezed the muscles that surrounded him.
He felt her tighten more, and instantaneously closed his eyes in an attempt to regain control. But then he realized he missed her and once again sought out the exquisite vision of the woman beneath him. He watched as a lone tear escaped the corner of her eye. The rivulet snaked down the side of her cheek and disappeared into her hairline. Suddenly he felt an intense ache in his heart, an intense desire to possess her.
“Oh, Elizabeth, I want you so much,” he moaned, resting his forehead against hers.
“You have me,” she murmured back. “All of me.”
He leaned back up, his own eyes now glistening with tears from the intense emotions that seemed to be passing between them. “I’m afraid I don’t deserve you.”
She could feel it building within her. Despite the slow, intimate pace of their lovemaking, her fires were being stoked and restraint was becoming all but impossible. She arched up into him, meeting his last thrust more forcefully as she clutched at his back, scratching it slightly with her nails.
“Keep that up and I won’t be able to control myself, pet,” he warned.
“Who said anything about control?” she asked coyly, pushing up again, even harder this time, as she moved her hands up and into his hair, tugging on the ends.
He smiled down at her in wonder. He had been with many women over the years but never in his life had he felt like this, this intimate connection. Perhaps it was the long period of abstinence, perhaps it was the stress of war, or perhaps it was the possibility that he would never have this again. Or, perhaps it was simply her.
She watched him continuing to move above her. He was biting on his lower lip. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. He was thrusting deeper now, faster, and she was climbing with him, to impossible heights. She moaned.
He leaned down, and captured her lips in a searing kiss. As his tongue swept her mouth she sucked on it. His eyes opened in surprise. As he pulled away she was smiling as him, mischievously. “Oh, Elizabeth, you’re going to be the end of me,” he moaned struggling to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm. He reached down between then, finding her swollen nub and rubbed.
“Oh…what…what are you doing?” she gasped.
“Want you to come with me, luv,” he whispered into her ear, his voice raspy and passion-filled. “Come with me, Elizabeth,” he groaned as he licked along the outside shell of her ear. “Come with me!” he demanded as he bit down on her earlobe, tugging on it with his teeth as he simultaneously pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.
She wasn’t sure what was happening, she felt like she was losing control of her body. Her inner thighs were quivering and she was flooded with a feeling of panic as breathing became more and more of a challenge. She gasped. She gasped again. “Oh, God!” she moaned, as her vision began to cloud. She closed her eyes trying to guard against the dizziness, trying to hold on.
“No!” he moaned. “Let go! Let go!”
And she did. Her orgasm broke through and as he felt her inner walls begin to tremble. He allowed himself to let go then, thrusting once, twice, three times, deep into her, spilling his seed into her womb.
Neither of them wanted to move. He still hovered over her their bodies connected. As they continued to gaze into each others eyes their breathing slowed. Their bodies were covered with a slight sheen of perspiration. Crawford reached up and swept a stray stand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear before he leaned down and kissed her, tenderly.
“Was…was I…good?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he said. When his forearms started to quiver slightly from the strain of holding himself up he began to pull away from her.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
“Never,” he said as he lay down alongside of her Crawford pulled her against him and wrapped his arms protectively around her. “Never.”
Chapter 9
Elizabeth opened her eyes and sat up, the thin blanket falling down around her waist. “Will?” she called out.
“Here,” he said.
She turned towards the entrance to the cave. She could barely discern the outline of his form, a dark shadow against the backdrop of the night.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“The storm has stopped,” he responded.
“You’re not answering my question,” she persisted.
“I was thinking,” he said softly.
“About?” she prompted.
“Us,” he simply responded. “I wasn’t…prepared for you, Elizabeth.”
“Do you regret making love with me?” she asked, getting up and walking over towards him.
“God, no!” he responded, stepping towards her and enfolding her in his arms. “But, this could get complicated.”
“It could also be wonderful. We could make a fabulous team,” said Elizabeth looking up into his eyes.
Crawford ran his hands, adoringly down the length of her back and in a hushed voice told her, “Our being lovers could be dangerous for you.”
“I’m a big girl. We can be careful,” said Elizabeth.
“It’s not a good idea, luv. You could get pregnant. You could be with child now,” he said, worry evident in his face.
She stepped back and placed a hand over her taut stomach. “I’m not. It’s fine.”
“You can’t know that,” he said as he stepped away from her and leaned over to pick up his robes.
“We’ll think of something,” she replied. “We’ve got a long walk ahead of us, plenty of time to work out a plan.”
“Elizabeth, we’re in the middle of a war here. We’re from two different countries, serving two different masters. This isn’t a fairy-tale. This is real,” he said as he handed her her robe.
“Yes!” she said, snatching the robe from his hand. “This is real. I am real. I am a real woman with real needs. I know I may never leave this place. I know that one of us, or both of us could die here. This could be the end. Or, it just might be the beginning.”
“Beginning?” he asked as he slipped on his robe. “I should never have crossed the line. I took advantage-”
“William Crawford, don’t you dare,” she scolded, advancing on him. She was still nude and had her robe fisted in her hand. “Don’t you for one second pretend that we weren’t both perfectly aware of what we were doing here. We’re both adults. We’re both free-”
He looked up at her, then, a pained expression on his face.
She froze, feeling suddenly like the air had been sucked out of the cave. She turned around, unable to bear his look of shame and regret. She felt nauseous as she slipped her robe over her nude body.
He came up behind her and tried to wrap his arms around her waist. She shrugged him off and moved away, spinning around quickly, fire in her eyes. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I-” he started, but quickly trailed off.
“What? What? Did it just slip your mind?” she accused.
“No,” he said slowly. “It didn’t slip my mind. I just don’t really think of myself as married. But, I am married, sort of.”
“Sort of?” she asked as she began to roll up the pallet. “You know what? Just stay away from me! And…and you can pick up your own stupid blankets!” she yelled as she abandoned rolling up the pallet and instead began to gather up the few belongings she had in the cave. “I’m heading back to camp.”
“You’re cross, I can understand tha-” he began.
“Cross? Cross? You’re married!” she shouted as she stalked over to him, cocked her fist back, and slugged him, right in the nose.
“Ow!” he yelled as he brought his hands up to hold his nose, trying to stave off the flow of blood. “You hit me!”
“Well, you deserved it!” she defended.
“I bloody well did not! Apologize!” he shouted.
“Apologize for having sex with me!” she countered.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back. She reached down and tore a strip of cloth from the one that had held their bread. “Here,” she said, handing it to him.
“I didn’t have sex with you,” he said, looking at her, pointedly. “I made love to you. There’s a difference. And, I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not sorry. I am sorry about neglecting to tell you about Drusilla. I should have told you.”
“Yes, you damn well should have!” she agreed, taking back the cloth and dabbing up the trickle of blood that had escaped his nose. “You should have told me.”
“Can I tell you now?” he asked, hopefully.
Elizabeth looked at him, searching his eyes, and asked, “Do you love her?”
“Yes,” he responded, with complete certainty. “And I will always love her, Elizabeth. I will love Drusilla long after I have turned to dust, I will love her for eternity.”
Elizabeth looked away then; embarrassed by the sudden flood of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. How could she have misjudged him so? How could she have been so wrong?
He reached down, grabbed her chin, and tilted her head back up, so that he could gaze into her eyes, “But the fact is, pet, I am not in love with Drusilla. She hasn’t been a wife to me in over nine, almost ten, years.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“Drusilla and I, we’ve known each other practically our entire lives. We were friends. Then in our teens we began dating. It seemed natural. We had a lot in common. But, before we even had a chance it all fell apart,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I was 18 and Drusilla was 17, she got pregnant. I married her right away. She was so distressed when she realized it, I couldn’t bear it. I had not one shred of doubt at the time. Drusilla was extremely religious and felt exceedingly guilty. I wanted to make it right. And, I loved her.”
“What happened?” asked Elizabeth.
“She started to unravel. The shame and guilt ate away at her. She went to Mass every day, praying for forgiveness for our sin. It didn’t matter that the priest offered forgiveness. It didn’t matter that he blessed our marriage. Nothing mattered. Then, in her seventh month, she lost the baby. That same day she lost her mind,” he finished.
“Where is she now?” she asked.
“In a hospital, for the past nine years. There was never any reason to divorce her. I never wanted to. There was no one else of consequence, no need,” he explained.
Elizabeth nodded. “Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” he asked, puzzled.
“Okay,” she repeated as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his.
He sighed in relief, releasing a breath that he didn’t even realize he had been holding. “Now, where do we go from here?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, sadly. “But, Will?”
“Yes, pet?” he responded.
“We go together. Agreed?” she asked.
“Agreed,” he said, sealing his promise with a kiss.
Chapter 10
It was mid morning as they approached the camp. Crawford had insisted that Elizabeth ride the camel on the long journey back. They had paused only briefly along the way to rest and drink water.
“Are you ready?” he asked, looking up at her.
“I think so,” she answered.
He raised his scarred eyebrow and looked at her, pointedly. “Luv?”
“Yes!” she said. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Alright, then. We’re agreed. You’ll go directly back to your tent and lay low. I work towards getting an audience with the prince. With luck, by tonight our plan will be set in motion,” said Crawford.
“Will I see you tonight?” she whispered in his ear as he reached up to grab her around the waist and lower her to the ground.
“Absolutely,” he said, huskily, as he pulled her close to him so that she slid down the length of his body, landing softly on the sand.
“Don’t move,” said the gruff voice in a thick accent. And, he didn’t. Crawford could feel the cold, metal blade of an Arabian scimitar jabbing him in the back of the neck. “Step away from my woman.”
Confusion clouded Crawford’s face. Before Elizabeth could open her mouth to speak he silenced her with a stern look. “I think you’ve made a mistake, mate,” he said as he lifted his hands into the air and slowly turned around, looking his attacker in the eye.
“Ahmed!” yelled the prince as he galloped up on his white horse, black robes billowing out around him.
Crawford’s attacker backed up a step and glanced over at the prince. “I have found him, my lord,” yelled Ahmed.
“Ah, Lieutenant, nice to see you! It seems that you have taken some liberties with my generosity,” remarked the prince looking at Elizabeth. “I believe that my offer was for a night, one night.”
“Yes, well, forbidden fruit is the sweetest, is it not my lord?” asked the British soldier with an arrogant grin.
“Don’t be a fool!” growled the prince, as he climbed down from his horse. “Your night is long over. Hessa! Get back to your tent. You must prepare for this afternoon’s festivities.”
Crawford turned around and gave Elizabeth a slight nod of encouragement before once again coolly facing the prince.
“Festivities?” he asked as Elizabeth began to walk past him.
“Yes,” acknowledged the prince, calmly. “I have promised Hessa to Ahmed. He is to take her for his wife.”
Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. Crawford saw the look of horror and panic cross her face. As she opened her mouth to shout out in protest he backhanded her, hard, across the face, knocking her to the ground. “I didn’t tell you to leave,” he ground out, staring down at her, anger evident in his eyes.
Ahmed advanced on him, pointing the sharp blade of the scimitar into his throat. “You do not give her orders. You forget yourself.”
“She is mine!” said the soldier, staring the dark Arabian down.
“Enough!” shouted the prince. “Ahmed won her, Lieutenant.”
“Won her?” asked Crawford, his mind racing.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” responded the prince smiling brightly. “I was bored. It was weeks ago, we had a contest and Ahmed won, hands down. The prize was the promise of a wife. It gets boring for the men, Lieutenant. Surely, you can appreciate that. You are, after all, a man who appreciates many things, no?” he asked as he looked down at Elizabeth, who was still sprawled on the ground.
“Yes,” agreed Crawford, looking at Elizabeth himself. He walked over to her, reached down, and offered her a hand up.
“This was not the plan,” whispered Elizabeth.
“I’m improvising,” answered Crawford, quietly after pulling her to her feet.
“When we first found Hessa he chose not to exercise his claim. Instead, he opted to wait a bit, to see if we would find another, more suitable wife. But, since seeing her the other night, he had changed his mind. He came to me shortly after you left to join Hessa that evening and informed me that he wished to exercise his right as champion, explained the prince.”
Crawford walked over to Ahmed and said, “You are the champion?”
“Yes!” he said, proudly “I am the champion!”
“No,” said Crawford, quietly, shaking his head.
“No?” asked Ahmed.
“No,” confirmed Crawford. “You see, I know that you are most definitely not the champion. I know that, because I am the champion.”
“Are you issuing a challenge, Lieutenant?” inquired the prince, amused at this turn of events.
“That’s right,” confirmed the British soldier.
“Why should he agree to fight you?” asked the prince. “He has already won the prize.”
“Because, if he doesn’t agree,” said Crawford, walking up to Ahmed and looking him directly in the eye, “everyone will think he is a coward.”
Crawford looked around at the crowd of onlookers that had formed. Ahmed followed his gaze as it swept over the sea of expectant faces. “You are of no consequence. I can beat you,” said Ahmad, “Then I will marry her and there will be no more challenges.”
“It will be so!” said the prince. “Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, you will fight and the victor will gain a wife.”
Elizabeth glanced, alarmed, at William. He walked over to her, clasped his hand over hers and began to walk with her towards his tent.
“Lieutenant!” called out the prince. “You have yet to win the prize. You should not presume anything Crawford. Ahmed is the finest of swordsman. He will be a formidable enemy.”
Crawford walked back over to the prince, tilted his head to the side and asked, “You know what I find works really well with enemies?”
“No, Lieutenant,” answered the prince, delighting in this show of bravado.
“Killing them,” answered Crawford, matter-of-factly.
“But, Lieutenant, we are at war, we can not afford to lose our best soldiers. Especially over something as unimportant as a woman,” answered the prince. “You may fight Ahmed, but you may not kill him. Understood?”
“Understood,” said Crawford, disappointment evident in his voice, as he turned to walk back towards the tent.
“And, Lieutenant?” called the prince.
“Yes, my lord?” responded Crawford, neutrally, turning one last time to face him.
“Hessa will sleep in the harem tonight. She must be prepared, for her wedding day. There will be no further discussion on this matter,” said the prince, resolutely before walking away, towards his own tent.
The crowd around them watched, in awe, as the British soldier walked back over to the veiled woman, taking her hands in his. “I will win you,” he said, as he searched her eyes. “Believe me. No matter what it takes, I will win.”
“I believe you,” whispered Elizabeth so that only he could hear. He watched overcome with a combination of sadness and fury as she was led away and into the seclusion of the harem