Chapter 28

“So you, Harrhas and Ali will come with us?” asked Hassan.

“Yes,” confirmed Crawford. “That will give you six and we’ve all got horses.”

“Let’s review the plan again,” said Hassan. “I want no mistakes.”

“There won’t be any bloody mistakes. I’ve got lots of experience with explosives. We’ll lay the explosives, wire them to a central fuse and it’ll go boom. Promise,” assured Crawford.

“We still need to work out a plan to get away quickly, they may be armed on the train. I don’t relish the idea of having any more wounded,” said Hassan.

“After the wiring is all done everyone can get a head start back. Only one of us needs to stay behind to set off the fuse. I vote for Ali. He’s the smallest and he’s a great horseman. We’ll give him the fastest horse, and instruct him to light the thing and ride like hell,” suggested Crawford.

Hassan nodded, “Good enough. Let’s check the stores, see what we need to take with us.”

” I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, let me tell Harrhas and Ali,” said Crawford. “When?”

“We should leave at sundown. That way we’ll arrive shortly before daybreak. If the train comes through on time we’ll be back by tomorrow night,” answered Hassan.

“Anything on the train you want to try to bring back?” Crawford turned and asked.

“Not now. We’ll get out fast and go back there later. None of the men on board will make it long. They’ll run out of supplies and die there, or they’ll venture out into the desert and die. Either way, it should be safe to return in a week or so. Another team is set to blast the rail about a dozen miles up ahead well after the train passes. That will prevent them from sending another this far for quite a while. They’ll have to rebuild the rail first,” explained Hassan.

“Got it,” nodded Crawford. “See you in a bit.”

About an hour later Crawford found Elizabeth with Ahmed, busy changing the bandages on the wounded. “Pet? May I have a word?”

Elizabeth looked up from what she was doing and said, “Sure, what’s up?”

“In private?” asked Crawford.

Elizabeth looked over at Ahmed who said, “I’ll finish, go ahead. You should get some rest anyways.”

Elizabeth nodded, stood up, and followed Crawford out of the tent.

“You look tired,” he said, concern evident in his voice, “and that’s probably mostly my fault. I should have let you get more rest.”

” I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“This trip is taking its toll on you. You don’t need to act so bloody tough all the time, you know. It’s alright to admit your tired,” he said as he tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear. “You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been drinking enough water?”

“Yes, mother!” she said starting to feel a bit irritated.

“No need to get shirty, luv. I don’t mean to nag it’s just-” he started.

“I know. I’m sorry, guess I’m feeling...I don’t know-” she drifted off as she stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders.

“Look, we’ve got a few hours before I’ve got to go. Why don’t you let me rub your shoulders then we can curl up and have ourselves a nap,” suggested Crawford.

“I think I’ve heard that one before,” answered Elizabeth suspiciously. “And, what do you mean by go?”

Crawford smiled, “Yeah, well this time I mean it,” he assured her. “Going on a short mission. Trying to further Hasimi-Bedu relations by helping to blow up a train.”

“What?” asked Elizabeth feeling a bit alarmed.

“No worries, pet. I won’t be gone long. We leave tonight around sunset and I’ll be back tomorrow night to tuck you in,” he explained. “How are the wounded?”

“Better. Much better,” she said stepping towards him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me too. Are they going to be well enough to travel in a day or two?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “You’ll have to ask Ahmed.”

“I’m guessing not,” he continued as they walked back towards their tent. “We’ll probably need to leave them with a small contingent. I’d prefer not to spare the men, but if they’re on the mend we don’t have much choice. I’ll work something out.”

“Can I go with you tonight?” asked Elizabeth as she started to unbutton her shirt.

Crawford watched her as she worked at the buttons, gradually revealing more and more of her skin. “No,” he answered quietly. “There will just be six of us going. I want you to stay here and I want you to get some sleep. We’ll be leaving for Acaba the night after I return. I want you rested,” he explained.

Elizabeth removed her shirt, walked over to the water bucket that they had in the corner, picked up the ladle and drank deeply. She then poured a bit into a bowl, retrieved a small rag and began to wash herself off.

“You really shouldn’t bathe in front of me, you know,” he said looking down at the now apparent bulge in his trousers.

Elizabeth smiled as she dropped the rag into the basin and lowered her trousers. “Exercise some self restraint, it’s good for you,” she teased.

Crawford smirked at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“ God! You’re hopeless! You were just scolding me and saying that I needed rest!” said Elizabeth, incredulous.

“And you do! Need rest, I mean. Lie down and close your eyes, you don’t need to do a thing,” he said softly, lowering his voice.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her finger at him, “Back! Down tiger!”

“Won’t even touch you,” he said as he nodded towards their pallet. “Really, just lay back and close your eyes. Just want to look at you.”

Elizabeth slowly lowered herself onto the pallet and stretched out before him.

“Take a deep breath,” he suggested as he began to stroke himself through his trousers. “Hold it,” he added giving his now rock solid erection a little squeeze, “and let it out,” he finished as he undid his trousers releasing his turgid member.

He watched as Elizabeth lay there in front of him, eyes closed, hair splayed out on the pillow. She was beautiful. He slowly stroked himself in time to the rise and fall of her chest. After a couple minutes he walked over, closer to her and lowered himself onto his knees at her feet. “What are you doing?” she whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Me?” he asked. “Nothing. Just sleep.”

Elizabeth opened one eye drowsily and gasped, opening up both eyes wide and rising onto her elbows, “You’re masturbating!”

“Yep!” he confirmed as he licked the palm of his hand and rubbed it over the head of his cock and then gave it a strong pull.

“But you’re doing it in front of me!” she declared.

“And you’re welcome to watch, but no joining in because I’m a man of my word, you need rest,” he said as he spit into his hand and ran it up and down the length of his shaft.

“You want me to watch?” she asked in a quiet voice as she tried to focus on his eyes and not on what was going on lower.

“God, yes!” he moaned. “Spread your legs for me, luv. I want to move closer. Want to come on your gorgeous breasts. Promise to clean you off.”

“How do you get me to agree to these things?” she asked as she bent her knees up slightly and then let them fall open, allowing him full view of her now moist center.

“You love me,” he answered, his voice husky from passion as he moved into a kneeling position between her legs.

“Oh yeah!” she said as she laid back, wiggled her hips slightly, and then reached her arms up over her head and stretched. “How could I forget?”

“And you love me fucking you,” he said as he added more spit to his hand.

“Yes,” she whispered in fascination as she watched the intensity of his strokes, “doesn’t it hurt when you pull on it like that?”

Crawford smiled and said, “Feels good. Not you. But, good.”

“Down to two word sentences, you must be getting close,” she observed.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I love having you fuck me!” said Elizabeth as she reclined back onto her elbows and tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder.

“What else?” moaned Crawford. “God, I’m so close...I...I-”

“I love having you come inside of me,” added Elizabeth.

“Oh! Oh!” gasped Crawford, his eyes widening.

“And I know I’m going to love having you come all over me,” said Elizabeth as she seductively licked her lips.

“Unnghhh!” shouted Crawford as thick ropes of milky come spurted out spilling over the top of his hand and landing on Elizabeth’s stomach and breasts.

Crawford couldn’t take his eyes off of her as she scooted back and then rose to her knees to face him. Elizabeth shook her hair out behind her and arched back grabbing her ankles , her breasts jutting out, almost touching his chest. His breath was still ragged as his hand reached, tentatively, wanting to touch her.

He exercised great restraint, pausing, so that his hand hovered over her left breast. “Go ahead,” she whispered, “touch me. You said you’d clean me up.”

Crawford reached out, cupping both breasts in his hand. They felt full and heavy, not to mention sticky from his spendings. Crawford moved closer to her, massaging, running his hands across her breasts, down over her ribcage, and finally around her stomach. “God I love your body,” he moaned.

“And my body thanks you for all the good loving,” said Elizabeth as she leaned forward and languidly kissed him.

After Crawford pulled away he rose up, walked over to the water bucket and poured a fresh basin of wash water. He returned to her, setting the basin by the pallet and spent the next few minutes washing off the evidence of their activity.

“This isn’t just sex, you know,” he said quietly as he wrung out the washrag.

“I know,” she assured him. “Its really good sex.”

Crawford paused, looked at her, and smiled. “I want you to know,” he began, “I have never in my life been as happy as I am right now, with you.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes clouded over, misting with tears, “Come home to me tomorrow night, Will?” asked Elizabeth.

Crawford tossed the washrag into the basin and kissed her softly. “Absolutely!” he vowed before lowering her back down onto the surface of the pallet, curling up behind her and finally drifting off to sleep. “This is where I belong, right here, with you.”

“Don’t forget that, Will,” she said.

“Never!” he promised before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 29

“This is it,” announced Hassan as they approached the Hijaz railway, “This is the spot.”

“Alright,” said Crawford. “Let’s take a bit of a break, have some food and water, and then we’ll get to work.”

The men climbed down from their horses and then proceeded to water and feed them before settling down to eat a bit themselves. It was still dark and the temptation to give into sleep was strong. Crawford saw Ali lie down in the soft sand.

“No sleeping, son,” said Crawford to the young man. “We’ve got work to do. You can rest when we return to camp.”

Ali promptly stood up and stretched. “I don’t know how you do it. Keep going on such little sleep, I mean.”

“Practice,” replied Crawford dryly. “Let’s get going. We’ve got a lot of material to lie before sunrise, which looks to be about an hour away. Harrhas, here is the box containing the blasting caps. They’re very volatile, so be careful.”

Harrhas nodded and accepted the box. He lifted the lid off of it and counted, “There are only six.”

“That’s all we’ll need, trust me,” responded Crawford.

“My men and I will start packing the explosives along the rail,” said Hassan as he retrieved the saddlebags containing the small sticks of dynamite that they had manufactured.

“Can we make more?” asked Crawford gesturing towards the sticks of dynamite.

“What do you have in mind?” asked Hassan.

“Acaba,” said Crawford, looking Hassan directly in the eye. “We may need some for Acaba.”

“I am not going to Acaba,” said Hassan directly. “That is your mission, Lieutenant, not mine.”

“Winning the war is our mission, Hassan. Here I am, helping you, am I not?” asked Crawford as he retrieved the wires he planned to use to detonate the blast. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be stuck with a simple fuse and all of the pitfalls that go with it.”

“I haven’t seen your miracle box work yet,” said Hassan, skeptically.

“It’ll work,” responded Crawford. “And you will give us dynamite for Acaba.”

Hassan shook his head. “We need the nitroglycerine we have to keep up the sabotage efforts on the rail.”

“After Acaba I’ll go back to Cairo. I’ll get you money, and I’ll get you munitions. I’ll get you everything you need to effectively keep this country in chaos and prevent the Turks from getting their supplies,” committed Crawford.

“You’ll work with us?” asked Hassan.

“I-” began Crawford before pausing and looking off in the distance.

“You’re right,” said Hassan, “together we are stronger. You have expertise. In short, we need you.”

Crawford nodded silently.

“I have your word?” asked Hassan.

Crawford met the man’s gaze and said, “You have my word. After Acaba, after I report into Travers in Cairo, I’ll join you.”

“How long?” asked Hassan.

“I’ll do the best I can!” snapped Crawford. “It’s not like I run the British Army, there are people I answer to.”

“You can convince them. How long?” pressed Hassan.

Crawford pursed his lips together, placed his hands on his hips and kicked at the sand. “Six months?” he asked.

“A year,” countered Hassan.

“And you let us use all the munitions at your disposal for Acaba,” said Crawford, laying out the deal.

“Except for what you leave behind to protect the wounded and a small contingent,” added Hassan.

“You drive a hard bargain,” said Crawford, thinking out loud. “A lot can happen in a year.”

“We could even win a war,” offered Hassan. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah, mate. We’ve got a deal,” said Crawford. “Now let’s get this bloody show on the rode.”

Within fifteen minutes the dynamite was packed tight into the sand around the rail and the men were busy laying the wiring. As the sun began to crest on the horizon Crawford started to splice the various wires together and connect them to the black box.

“Ready to set the blasting caps?” asked Harrhas.

“Just a second,” responded Crawford. “I’m almost done. I’ll meet you over there. Tread carefully Harrhas.”

Crawford completed the wiring and then turned to Hassan, “Wait for us on the other side of the sand dune. Harrhas and I will join you once the caps are set.”

“You sure Ali can do this?” asked Hassan.

“All he has to do is push down on the plunger, wait for the explosion, then grab the box,” explained Crawford.

“I can do it,” confirmed Ali.

“See you in a few minutes, Lieutenant,” said Hassan as he and his two men climbed onto their horses.

Crawford ran over to meet Harrhas. “You’ll hand me a cap and then begin to make your way over to the next site. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I’ve got the wiring done.”

Harrhas nodded his understanding and handed Crawford the first of the blasting caps before turning to make his way to the second site.

Crawford inserted the cap into the stick of dynamite, picked up the wire and carefully treaded it through and secured it before running over to join Harrhas. The sun was up now and a thin stream of smoke could be seen in the far distance.

“The train,” said Harrhas anxiously. “It’s approaching.”

“We’ve got time,” responded Crawford as he accepted the second blasting cap. “Go.”

It took Crawford just a few minutes to reach the third site. As he ran up Harrhas handed him the third cap before turning once again to focus on the approaching train. Crawford noticed that a thin sheen of sweat covered Harrhas’ forehead. As Harrhas wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve Crawford reminded him, “Go on to the next site, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Alright, Lieutenant,” he said, concern furrowing his brow.

“You’re doing well, Harrhas,” Crawford assured him as he reached the forth site, and accepted the blasting cap that Harrhas handed to him. “Only one more to go. You’re a good soldier.”

“I’m a better servant,” said Harrhas with a smile as he reached into the box extracted a blasting cap and moved to hand it to Crawford.

“You’re much more than a servant, my friend,” responded Crawford holding up the cap that Harrhas had already given him. “I’m set for now, hold onto it until the next site, now, get going.”

Crawford shifted his focus back to setting the cap into the stick of dynamite. As he reached behind him for the wire he heard it, the unmistakable sound of an explosion up ahead.

Crawford dropped the wires and set off at a full run over to Harrhas who was lying, face-down in the sand no more than 100 meters ahead of him. As he reached his prone body he fell to his knees. He reached out and carefully turned Harrhas onto his side. Crawford took one look at the gaping hole in the man’s stomach and turned away, swallowing down the bile that rose to his throat. Then he heard a moan. He turned back and looked into the deep brown eyes of his unlikely friend. The man who had first rescued and protected his wife, the man whose advice had helped him win her. Crawford noted the unmistakable gurgling sound, which indicated that his lungs were quickly filling. Harrhas coughed, weakly, sputtering out blood.

“Fuck!” groaned Crawford as he looked from Harrhas to the train. “Fuck!”

“Can he ride?” asked Ali.

Crawford looked up. He hadn’t even noticed the young man approach.

“Return to your post!” shouted Crawford.

“But-” began Ali.

“Return to your post! We need to complete the mission,” said Crawford with a sense of calm he did not feel.

“We can’t leave him,” said Ali. “If he manages to survive, if the enemy captures him-”

“He’s not going to survive,” said Crawford, quietly, “and he’s not going to suffer.”

Crawford pulled his gun out from behind the back of his trousers, cocked back the hammer and placed the barrel against Harrhas’ temple. “He’s a hero,” added Crawford as he pulled the trigger.

Ali flinched as the sound of the gun firing permeated the air. He looked at Crawford as he rose slowly and turned towards him. His hand, arm, shirtfront and face splattered in blood.

“Hold this,” said Crawford, handing Ali his gun. “Return to your post. I’ll finish the wiring and join you.”

Ali fell to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach in the sand.

“Ali!” said Crawford sharply.

The young man looked up at him, tears filling his eyes. “Y-y-yes, sir?”

“We have little time,” said Crawford softly, crouching down next to him. “I’m counting on you. Harrhas is counting on you,” he added nodding towards Harrhas. “You now have his command. Return to your post,” he ordered, handing him the gun.

“Yes, sir,” responded Ali as he accepted the weapon and ran back to where the black box waited.

Crawford picked up the box of blasting caps, opened it and noted that they were one short. In his haste, Harrhas must have inserted the extra into the pocket of his robe instead of re-opening the box. He could only set one more charge. Crawford set the box onto the ground, returned to the forth site and finished his work there.

On his way to the fifth he retrieved the final blasting cap, stoically walked past the body and headed to the fifth site. Crawford cleared his mind and mechanically set about completing his task. He looked up and saw that the train was now just a couple miles in the distance.

As he walked back over to Harrhas he paused and knelt alongside of him. “Thank you, Harrhas,” whispered Crawford as he quickly piled sand onto the motionless corpse. “Thank you for your help. Thank you for protecting her.”

Before covering the face Crawford paused, brushed off his hands reached up and closed Harrhas’ eyes. After finishing his work Crawford rose to his feet, looked heavenwards and quietly said,

do not make me the scorn of fools.”

Crawford ran over to join Ali. As he reached him he extended his hand and said, “My gun.”

Ali handed Crawford his weapon and asked, “Are we all set?”

“Yeah, get out of here, I’ll be along in a minute,” said Crawford.

“Thought I was going to do this,” responded Ali.

“The plans changed,” replied Crawford.

“Why?” asked Ali.

“Because I’m pissed! And you don’t get to ask why. You follow orders. Go!” growled Crawford.

He watched as Ali climbed onto his horse and rode off. He then crouched in the sand, his eyes fixed on the approaching train, waiting…waiting…waiting.

As it moved closer the dull roar of it’s engine increased to a loud thunder. Crawford could feel the ground rumble under his feet as it crossed in front of him. He swiftly stood up and said, “Harrhas, this one’s for you,” before he pushed down forcefully on the plunger and detonated the enormous blast.

Crawford watched as the force of the front blast caused the engine and the next two cars to jump the tracks. Almost simultaneously the other sites exploded causing damage further down the line. A fire erupted in two of the cars and thick spirals of dark black smoke could be seen reaching up towards the sky. Crawford quickly removed the wires from the black box and jumped onto his horse. As he looked back he could see several men climbing out of the wreckage, some appearing wounded, others just dazed. He glanced one last time at the mound of sand alongside the tracks then with the resigned determination that had become almost second nature to him; he turned his horse around and rode off.

WARNING: CONTAINS SITUATION INVOLVING RAPE

Chapter 30

“You should get some sleep,” said Ahmed.

“I got some sleep with William before he left. I’m alright,” responded Elizabeth.

Ahmed walked over to her. She was busy changing the dressings on one of the wounded. As she reached her hand up to brush away a lose strand of hair he grasped her wrist and pulled her to a standing position.

“Come closer to the lamp,” he demanded as he pulled her towards him.

Elizabeth was tired, much more tired than she wanted to admit and she lost her footing crashing into his chest. Ahmed steadied her, and then reached down, tilted her chin up, and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re dehydrated,” he announced.

“I’ll drink some water,” suggested Elizabeth.

“He demands too much of you, compromising your safety and your health,” said Ahmed.

“Please,” said Elizabeth as she tried to turn away. “Don’t speak ill of him. He’s a passionate man-”

Ahmed reached out once again for her and said, “I would never-”

“Ahmed!” said Angellah sternly.

Ahmed froze and released Elizabeth at once. He took a step back, moving away from her and then turned to face the prince, “Yes, my lord? How may I serve you?”

Elizabeth walked over, quickly to the water bucket and picked up the ladle. As she brought the ladle to her lips her hand trembled, spilling some of the precious liquid onto the floor.

“I heard raised voices,” explained Angellah as he watched Elizabeth.

Ahmed followed his gaze, observing for himself her tremors. “I apologize. I was concerned for Mrs. Crawford’s health. I-”

Angellha held up his hand, cutting Ahmed off and turned to face Elizabeth. “Why are you not asleep? It’s late.”

“I couldn’t go back to sleep,” said Elizabeth quietly. “After Will left I couldn’t go back to sleep. I figured I might as well be doing something useful, take my mind off of…”

“Sleep would be useful,” interjected Ahmed.

Angellah once again raised his hand, cutting him off, “Enough, she is not your woman. You’re right, of course, but she is not yours to command.”

Angellah turned to Elizabeth and said, “Come,” before walking out of the tent.

Elizabeth followed, unsure why. She followed him down the path that led to the waters edge. He stopped before it and turned to look at her. “I gave him my word. You have nothing to fear from me.”

Elizabeth swallowed, her eyes filled with tears, “Tell me he’s coming back.”

Angellah smiled at her, “I am not a seer. But, I can tell you that he very much believes you are worth coming home to. Now, disrobe and bathe, then you will eat something and sleep.”

“You can’t order me to sleep!” gasped Elizabeth. “And I’m not taking my clothes off in front of you.”

Angellah rolled his eyes and said, “Now, you of all people know that’s not true. I can order you to do as I please. Come now, give me your clothes, I will have someone wash them and bring you a fresh robe.”

“What’s going to happen if he doesn’t return?” asked Elizabeth, her lip quivering as she struggled to hold back her tears. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” soothed Angellah as he reached out, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into a comforting embrace. “He will return. It’s a simple mission. This time tomorrow night you’ll be back in his arms,” he added as he kissed her softly on the top of her head. “The men will be asleep for a few more hours yet, you have plenty of time and privacy. Leave your clothes here by the waters edge, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Elizabeth as he began to walk away.

Angellah shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep either, bad dreams. I dreamt Ilham lost the child,” he said as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his robe and turned to look back out over the water.

“Ilham is with child. That’s why you were sending her back to your palace,” said Elizabeth.

“Not the only reason,” he said looking down at the sand. “For some strange reason she genuinely seems fond of me. I find that endearing,” he confessed, “and rare, something worth safeguarding. I pray I find her well upon my return.”

Elizabeth nodded and said, “Thank you. I’ll leave my clothes at the waters edge,” she said as she turned around and began to unbutton her shirt.

Elizabeth heard the rustle of his robes as he turned around and walked back down the path. She paused for a moment and bent down to feel the temperature of the water. As she did she allowed her memory to drift to that of she and William making love earlier, here in the water. She stood up, closed her eyes and imagined that it was his hands slipping the buttons through the buttonholes of her shirt. Elizabeth was brought out of her fantasy by the sound of someone approaching. She spun around quickly coming face to face with Parker.

“Parker! My God you scared me!” she gasped clutching her shirt closed. “Turn around, I’m not dressed.”

“And that’s bad why?” he said as he openly raked his eyes down the length of her body and reached out towards her.

“Don’t touch me!” hissed Elizabeth.

“Not what you were saying the last time we were together. As I recall you were begging for it, screaming my name,” he said as he moved closer to her still.

“First of all, I’m surprised you remember anything you were so drunk! And, second of all, I was screaming for you to stop!” said Elizabeth struggling to keep her voice under control. “Parker, so help me, if you don’t leave right now I’m going to scream.”

“And how is that going to look? What will Angellah think? I saw the two of you a few minutes ago,” accused Parker.

“What are you talking about?” asked Elizabeth, confused.

“I saw you in his arms. What would your soldier think?” he sneered. “Perhaps I should have a talk with him. On the other hand, by the looks of things, he already knows what he has.”

“There is nothing going on between Angellah and I!” protested Elizabeth. “And your welcome to say whatever you want to my husband, he’ll never believe you!”

“Your husband! Now, that’s a joke, isn’t it? One of the men told me just how this marriage came to pass. Don’t be a fool, Elizabeth, as soon as he’s through with you he’ll cast you aside,” said Parker with conviction. “He’ll abandon you!”

“He won’t! He loves me! I’m his wife!” shouted Elizabeth as she realized Parker had just voiced her greatest fear.

“You’re his whore! I saw you! What you let him do to you…out here where anyone could have seen,” he said quietly as he stepped towards her.

“You watched us?” gasped Elizabeth, mortified. She could feel herself redden at the thought, their private moment invaded.

“I was curious,” he said casually. “Didn’t remember you liking it so much. Seems little Buffy is all grown up,” he added reaching out to grab her around her waist.

Elizabeth rotated out of reach and began to run, her survival skills kicking in. Parker, both faster and taller, caught up with her within a few strides. He reached out, grabbed the back of her shirt to slow her progress, then before she could scream clamped one hand over her mouth pulling her to him. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and with a sweep of his foot he took her legs out from underneath her. He effortlessly lowered her to the ground and covered her with his body. As she lay underneath him facedown in the sand she heard him whisper into her ear, “Ah, yes, I remember this position. You seemed to enjoy it when he took you this way.”

Elizabeth began to squirm underneath him, struggling to gain some leverage. “Oh yeah, just like that baby, can you feel how hard that makes me?” moaned Parker.

Elizabeth could feel his erection, only the thin material of his trousers separating it from her nude backside. Tears ran from her eyes as she struggled to breathe. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears. Parkers weight was too much, she couldn’t move out from underneath him and she was tiring. Elizabeth felt that her only chance would be to get him to loosen his grip. She applied the slightest bit of pressure, wiggling her ass, and pushing up into his erection. “Naughty girl!” whispered Parker with glee. “You want it now, don’t you?”

Elizabeth nodded her head ever so slightly, as much as she could; considering the stronghold that he had on her head and neck. Parker excitedly pulled out the arm that he had wrapped around her waist, he leaned up slightly so that he could snake his hand between them and undo his pants.

This freed Elizabeth’s right arm. As Parker leaned up she pulled her right arm loose and pushed up with as much force as she could muster, striking him square on the nose with the back of her head. The force of the blow made her see stars. The last thing she remembered before everything went black was an overwhelming sense of nausea coupled with the sound of her shirt tearing as it was ripped from her back.

WARNING: CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH

Chapter 31

The first thing that she was aware of was the pounding in her head. It was more of a throbbing really. She tried to sit up, but as soon as she moved she was hit with a sudden wave of nausea. She rolled onto her side, reflexively and began to retch. She felt it, as a cool, wet rag was placed on the back of her neck. Elizabeth’s hand reached back and covered the hand that was holding the rag with her own.

“Thanks, Will” she moaned. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me…I had the worse dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” said Ahmed. “You were attacked.”

Elizabeth spun her head around to look at him and groaned, lifting her hand to the back of her head, as a stab of pain coursed through her.

“There’s a small cut from where you connected with his head. Have some of this tea, it will help dull the pain and curb the nausea,” said Ahmed as he lifted a small cup to her lips.

Elizabeth smelled the tea and wrinkled her nose. “Eww!”, she said.

“Drink!” demanded Ahmed.

Elizabeth took a few tentative sips before admitting, “It’s not bad.”

Ahmed helped her to lie back down. He rinsed the washrag out and then gently wiped it across her face.

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispered a bit dreamily.

“Shh,” he soothed as he finished cleaning her up first, then the evidence of her sickness.

When Ahmed finished he carefully slid an arm underneath her neck and helped her slowly lift her head so that she could have more tea. “You should continue to take small sips. It will make you drowsy, help you rest. You’ll feel much better by tomorrow.”

“I’m so tired,” she admitted as her eyes started to flutter. “Where’s Will?”

“He’ll be back soon,” said Ahmed as he watched Elizabeth drift back to sleep.

Ahmed stood up, grabbed the washbasin he had been using and exited the tent.

“Will she be alright?” asked Angellah, anxiously.

“Yes, she needs rest,” responded Ahmed as he scanned the crowd that had gathered outside of Crawford’s and Elizabeth’s tent. The men from Hassan’s camp and those that had traveled to the oasis with Angellah stood apart. All of the men looked uncomfortable as they worriedly listened.

“Go about your business!” said Ahmed as he tossed out the water from the washbasin.

“There should be retribution!” shouted one of the men. Within seconds no one distinct voice could be heard as the men screamed for some vengeance.

The sound of a gunshot firing cut through the din. All eyes turned to Angellah who stood, silently, weapon raised. “I am the law,” he said, finally. “I will decide his fate.”

“You do not rule the Hassimi!” shouted one of Hassan’s men.

“He is not Hassimi,” countered Angellah struggling to keep his voice calm and neutral.

“He is not Bedu either,” shouted another.

“My Lord,” interjected Ahmed as he stepped forward, lifted his arm, and pointed. There, off in the distance, were the forms of the returning men on horseback. Their steadily growing forms silhouetted against the large orange sun as it slowly dropped towards the horizon.

They stood in silence, watching as the small party approached, Crawford in the lead. The first thing they noticed was the obviously tired state of their horses. They had been ridden hard; too far for too long without enough water. The animals were foaming from sweat, all but one, the one without a rider.

Angellah walked swiftly over to Crawford and reached for the reins of his animal. “There’s been an incident.”

Crawford’s head turned slowly towards Angellah. His face was encrusted in layer upon layer of sand and sweat as was the other men’s. But, there was something else. Angellah saw the spatters of dried blood on Crawford’s clothing and skin. “Lieutenant!” he said sharply. “Did you hear me?” Crawford looked towards him and Angellah swallowed hard upon seeing the vacant look in his eyes.

Crawford blinked. Then slowly began to dismount. “Harrhas is dead,” he said, wearily. “I’m sorry. I made sure he didn’t suffer.”

“The mission was otherwise a success,” interjected Hassan.

“Take care of the horses and bring food and water,” commanded Angellah as he reached out to take Crawford’s arm. “You need rest.”

“Where’s Elizabeth?” he asked, looking around for her. As soon as his eyes connected with Angellah’s he noticed the hesitation, the dread. Then he noticed similar expressions on the faces of the men that surrounded him. Angellah’s words about an incident flashed through his mind. He had at first assumed that Angellah had been referring to the absence of Harrhas. Now he was certain he was referring to something else. Fear passed through him as time seemed to lengthen and stretch out endlessly. The seconds it was taking for Angellah to find the right words seeming like hours.

“Recovering, in your tent. She-” started Angellah.

Crawford pushed past him and walked as if in a daze towards their tent. His heart was racing and he felt as if he were going to suffocate. As he reached the entrance he turned to look back at his men, most of them averted their eyes, uncomfortable witnesses to this private moment.

Crawford pushed open the flap of the tent and quietly stepped inside. Elizabeth was laying on the pallet facing away from him. He immediately noticed the bandage on her head. A small circle of blood showed through. He heard a noise behind him as the tent’s flap was pulled back and Ahmed entered.

“She will be out for a while. I gave her some tea with a bit of sedative,” he said.

Crawford nodded, his eyes starting to fill with tears. She looked so small, so frail. Elizabeth moaned in her sleep and moved slightly. As she did so the thin sheet that had been covering her slipped slightly revealing a deep bruise on her shoulder. He stepped forward and knelt down beside her. The bruise was in the form of a hand. He reached up and gently slid the sheet down, exposing her back. There at the base of her hip was a second bruise. There were many other contusions and burn-like abrasions on her torso that he had yet to notice.

“Parker. How-” began Crawford, his voice cracking as he realized what had happened. “How far did he get? How hurt is she?”

“She was lucky-” started Ahmed.

Crawford turned to look at him, a pained expression on his face, “Lucky?”

“Lucky that you taught her to defend herself. Lucky that Angellah returned when he did,” explained Ahmed.

“What happened?” asked Crawford as he reached out and tenderly began to stroke her hair.

Ahmed sat down beside Crawford and quietly began, “Angellah walked her down to the water to bathe. She had been helping me most of the night and was close to exhaustion. He left her for a few minutes. When he returned Parker had her pinned to the ground, facedown. Most of her clothes had been removed. As Angellah cleared the pathway he saw them. As Parker moved to unfasten his trousers Elizabeth bucked up and slammed the back of her head into his face, breaking his nose. Unfortunately, the force of the blow knocked her unconscious. Angellah subdued Parker-”

Crawford stood up, the lines in his face hardened.He reached down and pulled his knife from the sheath inside his boot. Then he turned and with a determined step walked out of the tent towards Angellah. The crowd of men that had congregated around the tent moved quickly out of his way.

“What have you done with him?” asked Crawford.

“Nothing...much,” answered Angellah. “Saved that for you. I’m sorry, William.”

Crawford nodded and brought an arm up to wipe the dust from his face. “Where are you holding him?” he asked.

“Down by the water,” said Angellah. “I’ll take you.”

Crawford followed Angellah down the winding path that led to the water’s edge. As the reached the end of the pathway Crawford looked around. Although several of the men were sitting about, he saw no prisoner.

“This is a private party,” announced Angellah. “Find something else to do.”

As the men dispersed he saw him, or rather it. Parker’s head, was sticking up out of the sand. “You buried him in the sand?” asked William.

“Well, not me. I mostly watched the boys dig the hole and then bury him. I had knocked him out pretty good. It took him a few hours to come to. He hasn’t had any food or water yet. You could just go with that,” said Angellah as he walked up to Parker and knelt down alongside of him.

Crawford approached and quietly said, “No. Don’t think so.”

Parker’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as the British soldier began to slowly circle him. He was sweating profusely and he was sunburned from being left in the open sun all day. The rims of his eyes were reddened and his lips were cracked. “Water,” he croaked.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding, mate!” barked Crawford. “He’s kidding, right?”

“I don’t know,” said Angellah, shaking his head. “He could be delirious from, you know, the sun and lack of water. Perhaps we should give him some water so that he can be fully alert when the torturing part begins.”

“Good idea,” said Crawford as he knelt before him.

Angellha clapped his hands loudly and yelled, “Water!”

His request was met with silence. “Oh, for heavens sake, I know several of you are out there, spying. Someone fetch water. Who among you is the bravest?” asked Crawford.

A young man by the name of Sudhir peeked out from behind a date palm. He bowed quickly towards Angellah and said, “I will get the water, my lord,” before running up the path and disappearing.

“So, what do you think?” asked Angellah. “Want to make him a eunuch? We can get some of the boys to pull him out of the sand, perform the procedure and then stick him back in until he’s healed. The procedure’s usually done on younger men and well, there is the high mortality rate. But either way it could work. Torture followed by life in servitude as a eunuch or death.”

Sudhir returned with the water and Crawford tipped the cup to Parker’s lips, allowing him to take some small sips. As he took the first few swallows he began to cough and sputter. Crawford allowed him to take his time recovering and then again tilted the cup to his lips, allowing him to drain it.

“Parker?” called Crawford crouching down in front of him.

Parker looked up towards him. Both of his eyes were black and his nose obviously swollen and broken. His tongue flitted out and ran across his swollen and cracked lips. “I-” he began.

“Shh!” said Crawford as if he were comforting a child. “Today is your lucky day. One, I’m tired and two, I’m feeling a bit impatient. So, although I’d like nothing more than to torture you endlessly for hours, I’m going to make this quick. I’m not going to let you hurt her, or anyone else ever again. Do you believe in hell, Parker? I do and I am certain that is where you are heading. Who knows, perhaps I’ll join you there someday for what I’m about to do,” said Crawford as he stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. “This blood,” he explained looking down at his sleeve, “is the blood of a hero. Yours doesn’t deserve to touch it.”

“Please,” whispered Parker, his voice hoarse.

“Did she beg?” he asked as he walked around him. “Did you exercise any compassion? Would you have?”

“Wh-what are you going to do?” asked Parker, his voice quivering as he tried desperately to think of a way out of his current situation.

“Thought that would be fairly obvious by now. I’m going to kill you,” said Crawford as he knelt behind Parkers head. As Parker tried to crane his head back to get a look at his executioner, Crawford reached down and forcefully grabbed a handful of his dark hair and pulled up ruthlessly, exposing Parker’s neck. He took a deep breath, and looked heavens-ward up into the darkening sky and whispered, “Forgive me Father, for what I am about to do.”

“M-murder is a sin, Lieutenant,” said Parker, looking for any argument that he thought might result in clemency.

Crawford leaned down, placed his knife at Parker’s throat and simply said, “You. Hurt. My. Girl.” Then he dragged it across in one fluid move, slicing open Parker’s neck and watching as his blood spilled out, sinking into the sand.

Crawford released Parker’s head and watched as it lolled back. His lifeless eyes frozen in a look of surprised horror. Crawford climbed to his feet and looked up at Angellah.

“Well, that was kind of disappointing. You could have at least let me cover his head in honey and watch as the local insects and animals nibble at him,” said Angellah as he moved to hand Crawford back his shirt.

Crawford shook his head. “I want to wash up. I have too much blood on my hands,” he said as he began to remove his pants. “Can you have someone bring me a robe?”

“I’ll get it myself,” said Angellah.

Crawford looked at him in shock, “You’re waiting on me?”

“Of course not, I’m just doing a favor, for a friend,” said Angellah.

“Thanks,” replied Crawford as he set off towards the waters edge.

Crawford dove into the water and swam out. As he pulled himself through the water he wondered if he would ever be really clean again. This wasn’t an act of war. This had been something else. He let himself sink to the bottom and stayed under as long as he could, running his fingers through his hair and his hands over his body in an effort to shed the sand and blood that had accumulated there since he had last bathed. Not until his lungs were burning from lack of oxygen did he push off from the bottom. Crawford gasped as his head broke through the surface of the water, and then swam a ways towards shore. As soon as the water was shallow enough he stood up and shook his head, casting off beads of water.

Angellah watched as Crawford walked out of the water and towards him. As he handed him the fresh robe that he had retrieved while Crawford bathed he said, “William, you’re not going to hell for killing him. You know that, right? The bastard deserved it.”

Crawford sighed before pulling the robe over his head. “It’s not the fact that I killed him that bothered me,” said Crawford looking up into the dark sky.

“What is it that bothered you?” asked Angellah, curious.

“What bothered me, was that I was going to so thoroughly enjoy it,” admitted Crawford.

Angellah nodded but in truth he was struggling to understand. “Revenge is justified,” he said. “Doesn’t your Bible say ‘an eye for an eye’?”

“It also says something about turning the other cheek,” explained Crawford as they started to walk back up the path.

“Don’t you find that a little contradictory?” asked Angellah.

“Are you wanting to discuss theology now?” questioned Crawford.

“Nah! Let’s save that for our next date,” said Angellah, slapping him on the back. “Had a real good time.”

“Goodnight,” said Crawford as he reached his tent. “And, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. By morning he’ll be buried and the evidence all erased. You can move on,” said Angellah before walking away.

Crawford entered his tent. Ahmed had left a small oil lamp burning and two cups of tea by the pallet along with some bread and fruit. He sat down on the pallet, picked up a fresh peach, and bit into it. He closed his eyes for moment to savor the taste of the sweetness. He quickly finished it off along with the portion of bread. He walked over to their water bucket and drank deeply after taking a moment to wash the sticky residue from the peach from his hands.

Quietly, he walked back over to their sleeping pallet and slipped between the covers. As he moved to brush Elizabeth’s hair aside his hand hovered over her shoulder. He looked once again at the bruise there and thought, “The evidence will not be erased by morning.” He rolled over and blew out the lamp, shrouding the tent in a cocoon of darkness. He started to move towards her, so that they could assume what had become their normal sleeping position. His body wrapped around hers, his right arm draped over for waist, her left breast cupped in his hand. But he just couldn’t.

Tonight was not a normal night. He wanted desperately to wake her. To tell her that he loved her and to hear her say she loved him. He wanted desperately to make love to her. His stomach clenched and he pulled away. He climbed out of their bed, suddenly filled with shame and self-loathing. Was it that he thought he could erase the memory of her attack through the simple act of tender lovemaking? No. He knew what it was. If he was to be brutally honest with himself, it was about a desire to reclaim what was his.

Crawford left the tent. Barefoot, he walked out into the desert, seeking a moment of solitude. As he left the camp behind and looked up at the night’s sky he felt a sense of sadness wash over him. So much had changed for him. And, it was all because of her. He had someone to lose now, someone that mattered to him. He thought about Drusilla and wondered briefly when she had stopped mattering, really mattering. He thought about Elizabeth losing both of her parents within the space of a year. He thought about Ahmed, losing his wife and children. He thought of Anyakalha not even aware that she is now a widow. Then he wondered about Parker, would anyone miss him?

Crawford sank down and sat in the soft sand. He pulled his knees up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He forced himself to face the inevitable. He was going to lose her. Someday it would happen. He made a decision then and with only the stars as a witness, the tough British Soldier rested his head on his knees a wept.

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