If there was one thing that Charlotte liked less the Rick almost getting himself killed for the umpteenth time, it was being socked through to the very skin. When Rick finally found her she'd been squelched into a equally wet hug, it was not a comfortable feeling. She certainly held not love for it.

"Charlie-"

"Oh for gods sake Rick I'm goddamn fine!" The frosty glare could have frozen him to the bone but he only chuckled, clapped her on the shoulder and moved ahead to the front of the group. Leading them into trouble no doubt.

Charlotte didn't mean to be a downer, at least no more of a downer than the rest of the soaked entourage already were, but her mind was still swimming in the clouded waters. That man, she could have swore she'd seen him before. Or felt his presence in the least. She felt like she knew him, knew him so deep in her soul that even death wouldn't stop her from remembering him. If was something she'd never felt for anyone else. Ever.

"You are fine." A quick as an asp she struck, the paper thin blade pressed against the vile creature throat.

"What did you say?!" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it held the weight of the world. "Listen to me you vile..." she looked down with a smirk "...little man, you who would have taken pleasure from my bothers death. You touch him, or any of us and I will slit you from navel to nose." Charlotte pulled away playing with the knife, her fingertips making it dance from one hand to the other. " Of course I'll make sure to miss anything vital...who knows in this desert you might bake to death before you bleed out, and that isn't even going into the bugs."

"I hate bugs." His horror was almost as palpable as his stench.

"Oi Charlie...directions." She turned on the spot sending the wretched man a deathly stare full of the promises of dark and deadly things...and bugs.

With the steps of a swift she glanced over the sand towards her brother, a small chuckled escaping her lips. Evidently Cairo had definitely changed her from the once little girl with pigtails and frilly socks. Being an orphan could do that to a girl.

Rick was crouched on the peak of a small dune, not much of a vantage point but you took what you could get. As she made to climb up behind him a nudge almost sent her sprawling in the sand.

"Ameer, what is it?" Her stunning prince whinnied, nudged her again before swinging his vast head to the left.

As of yet their party of bedraggled adventurers had stuck close to the river. Despite the fact they were indeed on the right side of it unlike the American four, they had stopped much earlier down the river than Rick had. As a consequence Rick had made the decision to follow the river until his previous landing point had been reached. This would have been fine if they weren't soaked to the bone in a rapidly cooling desert. That very thought left her supressing a shudder to which Ameer pressed into her side. Eyes the colour of melted chocolate scanned the company. They were all miserable, even the fat pig. Charlotte felt pity streak through her at the sight of the woman, Evy. Despite the jacket she'd lent her the woman's body with fraught with shivers, and it was no wonder as the thin material of her nightgown clung to her legs. Her brother was whining, something she'd come to the conclusion he often did, about the chill on the air and the chaffing of his wet trousers. Delightful stuff. Even Ameer, as strong as he was, was shivering with the combined nights exertion and the cooling temperature.

"I agree my prince, we need rest...somewhere to dry off in the least." Charlotte let her eyes stray to the stars as she lay a hand against Ameers silvery coat ceasing his shivering muscles. Stars were the map that was ever present, the map you could never lose in some hole ridden pocket. A map that could never be stolen, or burnt or forgotten. They were ever present. The guiding hand of the gods.

Rick was right in his assumption that they weren't far from their destination. But what good would that do them. They would still be tired and wet and downtrodden.

Her eyes scanned the dark and that was when she noticed it. It cut through the sand as though it was water, and for a sand winder that could be a most accurate description. Cold blooded it should not be out on the chilling sand and yet it was. So set on its destination it paid the strangers to this land no mind. How odd. Quickly she followed, Ameer trotting dutifully behind her like a colt. That's when she saw it, a glint of light, hardly more than a sliver, nestled between dunes to escape the chill of the wind. It was a village, one of the temporary sort. She let her eyes stray to the stars once more and they sparkled with thanks. Perhaps the gods were on their side...it would be a first.

"Ameer, keep Evy company. I will stay warm." The silver stallion gave her a look that clearly said liar, but he did what he was bidden and trotted over to the friend of his mistress. Charlotte, in the mean time, clambered up the small dune towards her brother.

"Rick, there is a village not to far. We should stop there." He turned to her and his expression was stern.

"We can't afford to stop, that maggot will beat up...he won't make a fool of me again."

"Rick..." Charlotte laid a hand on his forearm "...Benji will get his, but we need to rest." He searched the horizon, clearly intent on ignoring her advice so she traversed another route. "Evy needs to rest, and despite the fact that you probably enjoy her current attire I'm sure she doesn't agree." He eyes turned sharply to the woman in question who was now leaning into the vast stallions side, if a bit cautiously. Charlotte smirked as Ricks eyes softened slightly. Got ya.

"Fine, which way?" Still smirked she pointed out the direction, thank god for the powers of a woman over a man.

Her mind flashed back to the mysterious man back on the barge. As quickly as the thought came it faded but the frown that had settled on Charlottes face did not.

~oOo~

That mission had been a complete failure, and yet he still could not see it as such. He'd seen her again, the woman with the silver stallion.

It should have been easy, easy to remove those who sort the city of the dead and the treasures that lay hidden in its depths. But things had a way of turning out as they shouldn't. The fire...that had been a big mistake. Despite the contempt he felt for those who would, in the ignorance, seek to release a terror on the world he would never let harm come to the creature he and his men so depended on.

Horses were sacred to the Medjai, and they were to be treated as such. Others, Arabs that too sort the treasures of the desert and more unsavoury things would eat the meat of their horses. But no matter the struggle, the hunger, a Medjai would never stoop to such levels. It was not their way.

He had though the foreigners much the same as the Arabs that roamed the desert, without morals or honour. He'd never expected the woman, that woman to be there. He should of killed her, she'd put in her lot with the raiders of the tombs but his hand was stayed. In the very moment he reached for his scimitar, the moment he sought to end her life his heart clenched. He felt as though to end her life would be to deny himself something. What it was he could not fathom but it had saved her life and perhaps his own.

She'd suggested a truce, something he hadn't expected from a foreign woman, and he'd quickly eyed his options. She too carried a scimitar, he could easily over power he, she was only a slight thing. But that might take too long, the braying was panicked and a panicked horse could easily do more harm to himself.

The words had left his lips without through, 'truce', there could be no other solution. In tandem they had dragged the door aside, and without a pause for though the woman had dashed into the smoke. He'd followed just as quickly and while freeing the terrified horses kept an eye on her. A truce didn't mean he had to save her should she fall into trouble but he would not leave her to burn alive on this pyre.

They had reached the silver horse her knew to be her own in the same moment, and even though she tumbled into him the rope had been sheared. He could still feel the frailty of her body in that moment, so small was she, so slight that with the most merger pressure he would certain that he could cause her harm.

Within moments they had been running for their very lives. As the icy water engulfed them he tore his way to surface. He would not see her die now, not when she intrigued him so.

He had scanned the water for her and their eyes had connected over the turmoil. He would find her again, he could feel it. With her safety ensured he'd made his way to shore. His mind had been a tempest. All his life he'd blamed the foreigners for the folly, their need to claim the desert treasures as their own with no though, no respect for the dead. The curse was known to them and yet still they sort the glint of a lost world. But would he have believed the rumours had he not lived all his life with the curse hovering over his head. No perhaps he would not have. He had focused his anger on them because they were something tangible. But he should have been angry at the ones who'd cursed him with this duty. Never to rest for fear the creature would be set free on the earth.

He hoped that perhaps they would see their mission as a failed one, but as he followed them through the night he knew that not to be so. He watched as the miserable group trod they way towards certain doom, whether that be at the sharp edge of a scimitar or at the hands of the creature he could not foresee.

As he watched his eyes inadvertently strayed to the woman. Miserable as she appear she still struck with the speed of a snake as the fat man approached her. His intentions were obviously dishonourable and despite the control she exhibited his hand still strayed to one of his own blades. His reactions were confusing him. He knew her not and yet he found himself wanting to see live. Her death would sadden him, he felt as though his very soul should crack at the loss of her life.

Perhaps his brothers were right, he should find himself a woman. Becoming chief so young had left him no time to truly be a young man. But as of yet none had caught his interest, as a young chief there were many who tried but he found himself tired of their attempts. They fought for nought but their station. They knew not the hardships of the life he led, the battles, the loses that weight heavily on him. He was barely holding on his own and they would fracture under its weight. How was he to explain that the loss of any life, no matter its origin still cut into him. How could place that weight, the horrors of his fears on another's shoulders.

His eyes strayed back to the company, they were headed for a traders village. The people were kind, they would make it. His heart stung, he wanted them to live and yet he did not want to see them in Hamunaptra. Should they make it, it was he that would be their doom for the creature could not rise.

Pushing himself to his feet he let the woman fade from his thoughts, he could not dwell on her lest his hand be stayed again for his sentiments.

Carefully he moved back into the night, his robes flickering about him as the darkness consumed him. Fully unaware of the brown orbs that were focused in his directions.

~oOo~

Well I hope that wasn't too bad of a chapter...next up is Hamunaptra. Thanks to all the review and follows and faves. You lot are actually epic!