January 1988

"Halais," Madari said, offering his hand to the Bedouin. "Goodbye, my dear friend."

Halais took Madari's hand in both his own and shook it, briefly, as he'd learnt to, sparing Madari's hands, but then he let go and pulled Madari into an embrace and kissed him once on each cheek. Madari stepped back, laughing, but touched by the show of affection.

Halais put his arm around Madari's shoulders, as if unwilling to let him go, to see him leave. The two of them looked around at the vehicles, loaded with weapons, with supplies for the journey. They watched the men boarding, calling out goodbyes to their Bedouin friends.

"I hope we will meet again, Faris."

"You are always welcome in my home."

"And you in mine."

"If I can find it."

Halais laughed, "Ah, yes. Well, perhaps I will visit you first, if your forces secure victory."

"It has been an honour to fight with you and your men, Halais. I owe you my life." He smiled "And my nickname."

Halais laughed loudly. "Indeed, the name of Madari, the Knight of the North will not be forgotten. My people will tell the stories to anyone who happens by."

At last, all of the trucks were loaded and Noor walked up to Madari, rather slowly, taking a last look around, like everyone else. When he arrived, he saluted, rather more formal than usual.

"Ready to leave, Major." He bowed his head to Halais. "Sir."

Madari looked around, just once more. The generator was off. The Bedouin had taken back the goats. Some things he might want to return and retrieve later had been locked in a cell in the blockhouse, including all those reports he had written. They may return only to collect things left behind, or to regroup at the camp, to continue their resistance, but he hoped it would be the former case.

The next few days could see the end of the resistance campaign, or only another battle. Or it could see final defeat for them. Defeat and death, most likely. Nevertheless, he had confidence. The leaders of the resistance forces had summoned all of the groups to make a final assault on the strongholds of the government, the only places where their orders were still obeyed. The capital, Az-Ma'ir.

Madari's Bedouin allies would not join that assault; they stayed here to defend their home ground, in case the rebels lost the battle. Moreover, cavalry might be useful out here, but city streets did not suit them or their horses.

Madari checked his watch as Halais and Noor said their goodbyes.

"We must go; we have to arrive by nightfall."

Elahi's Mercedes had become Madari's staff car; though he sometimes felt as if it might as well have a big target and the words "commander in here" painted on its roof. After final goodbyes to Halais and a brief inspection of the trucks, some words to the drivers, he walked to that car, where Jahni stood holding open the rear door.

"Thank you, Kahil," he said smiling, and got in. Jahni got in beside him. Noor took the driver's seat and Faraj the front passenger seat. They had plenty of strategy to discuss on the journey that lay ahead.

Noor started the car and Madari found himself holding his breath until they drove out of the gates. Then he slowly let it out, and turned to watch as the convoy of all of their other vehicles followed. Jahni and Faraj did the same, Noor watched through the rear view mirror. They stopped once all of the vehicles were outside, Madari saw a man jump from the last truck, lock the gates and then run right along the convoy to the Mercedes.

Sergeant Azma, the deserter they had picked up in the desert, and who had become a valuable soldier in Madari's unit stopped by the car, grinning. He saluted and handed a key to Madari though the window.

"Gates secured, Major."

"Thank you, Sergeant. Carry on."

Azma saluted again, still grinning and ran back to the rearmost truck.

"Proceed, Captain," Madari said to Noor, while he threaded the key onto a piece of thin cord that already held a key to the blockhouse cell and to the office safe. He retied the end and put it back around this neck.

It was over.

Jahni and Faraj still watched the camp as they moved on and it grew smaller and smaller. But Madari didn't join them. As soon as those gates were locked, he felt that he'd been cut off from the place. A new phase of his life waited.

Before his arrest, he'd been one type of man, and when he arrived at the prison, he'd barely been a man at all, so utterly destroyed. He'd slowly become another man. Not the one he'd been before, he knew that. He'd become the Knight of the North. He'd become Faris, had grown into a name given to him by an ambitious man. A name he'd sometimes felt trapped by, felt it forcing his feet onto a pre-set course.

And he'd finally lived up to the name he shared with that ambitious man. Madari. He'd sometimes resented that name too, because of the expectations it placed on him. And after Ahmed retired and the influence of his followers in the regiment diminished, Madari had blamed it for holding his career back. Now he saw there had been flaws in himself that had been more responsible for that. For the fact that he would be forty in a few months and still only held the rank of Major.

Well if he lived through this and went back to the regiment, resumed his career, he would have the chance to prove himself in a more formal military setting. A promise to himself formed in his mind then. A promise to himself and to Ahmed. Full colonel within three years from today. He smiled. Good to have goals, long term ones. For too long his goals had been too short term. Hold the camp. Bring the men back safe. Stay alive. Stay strong.

He glanced up to see Jahni looking at him, at the smile. So much had changed for all of them. And now that part of their life could be over. What did the future mean for them? For all of them? Madari put his hand on Jahni's shoulder, no words needed. They both knew how momentous this moment of leaving was for both of them.

Their future? Madari did not dare to think of it. Back to the short-term goals, his mind insisted. Fight, win, and bring the men back safe. Stay alive.

"Those we leave behind," Madari said, thinking of the graves outside the wire. "We will fight for them, gentlemen, we will win for them."

~~~~

They arrived as dusk fell. Ten miles from Az-Ma'ir, in a small village, an army waited. Guerrilla groups like Madari's and even some regular army units that had deserted en-masse. Vehicles and tents surrounded the village and Madari's convoy was directed to an area south of the village.

Noor and Faraj set about giving orders to get the tents up, start cooking fires. Madari guessed the assault would begin early the next morning and the men needed to rest to prepare.

Meanwhile he had to report to the senior man on site. He left the car, since their fuel was running low and they'd need it tomorrow, and, accompanied by Jahni he went to receive orders. As they walked he had to wonder how much longer Jahni would be his bodyguard.

The temporary headquarters was in a large private house, and Madari was careful to wipe his feet as he went in, Jahni following his example. Jahni cased the house carefully, as they waited for a moment, in a hallway. Then a soldier, actually in uniform, directed them into what had been a living room, but had most of the furniture piled out of the way, aside from a desk and a couple of chairs. A man sat behind the desk, not wearing a uniform and Madari and Jahni both gasped at the sight of him.

"General Sattan!" Madari exclaimed, had to restrain himself from adding 'you're alive!'

"Hello, Major. Lieutenant." Sattan smiled. "Good to see you both."

"And you, sir. We thought..."

"I was in a military prison, it was recently liberated." Sattan explained, speaking quickly, and apparently reluctant to expand on his story.

Madari's joy at seeing Sattan alive was tinged with guilt. "General, I feel partly responsible for your imprisonment. I fell into the trap the government set to compromise you."

Sattan waved a hand. "I fell into it before you did, Major. I am just glad to see Lieutenant Jahni a free man too. The story of your rescue of him reached me even in prison."

Madari saw Jahni look down smiling. Madari didn't smile.

"Well, that is all for later." Sattan looked at some papers on the desk. "Major," he looked back up and handed a folder to Madari. "Your assignment tomorrow is to secure and hold the airport."

Madari took the folder and found plans of the airport, of the layout of all the buildings, a detailed plan of the interior of the terminal.

"According to reconnaissance," Sattan went on, "the army have left most of the airside buildings, and don't hold any of the planes that are there. However, a sizable group, at least two hundred men, remains holed up in the terminal building. They also hold the air traffic control tower. I'll allow you time to study the plans in detail. But do you think your unit can do this? We've made the assessment going by what we knew of your strength and equipment three weeks ago. Have there been any substantial changes since then?"

"No, sir. I think we can do it, sir."

"Good. We have to secure the airport, so the bastards in charge can't escape." His face hardened, and now Madari saw in his eyes signs of what he must have suffered since his arrest. "We have it on good authority that the Russians have already fled."

Madari glanced up, sharply, not sure how to feel about that. Had he wanted to find any of them? Sevchenko was already long gone, with the A-Team and had hopefully spent the last few months in the hands of the CIA. But there were others, many others, who needed to be punished.

"Perhaps for the best," Sattan said, shrugging. "We need to keep this an internal matter."

"Yes, perhaps," Madari said, quietly, unconvinced. He glanced at Jahni, to see by his scowl that he must be unconvinced too.

Sattan flipped through some more papers on his desk and then looked at Madari again and smiled. "Do you know what you look like at the moment, Major?"

"A bandit, sir?" Madari asked and Sattan laughed.

"Indeed." He shook his head. "I just find it hard sometimes to reconcile it with the first photograph I saw of you, in your uniform."

"A soldier is more than his uniform, General."

"Indeed. Not only that though. I've read files on you from your regiment, from your commanding officers. And you know I've spoken to Colonel Rahama about you. They all praised you, but in none of those files or conversations did I see or hear anything that suggested you could become what you have. Achieve what you have. It's almost as if you're a different man than the one in those files."

Madari almost smiled, the general's thoughts echoed his own so closely. However, he kept a serious look on his face instead.

"Perhaps I am a different man, sir."

Sattan glanced at Jahni too and Madari wondered if he'd read Jahni's files and found a different man in those than the one that stood here today.

"You've been out in the desert a long time, Madari."

"And now I'm back."

This time Madari did smile, and he suspected it alarmed the general just a little bit. I'm back. And I brought the scorpions with me.

"Well, I will let you study the plans. If you think you will need more men I have a small unit to assist. Actually, they are led by one of your fellow Royal Guardsmen, a Major Mobarek."

"Mobarek?" Madari stared at him, shocked.

"Yes." Sattan frowned. "Aren't you related to him?"

"Not... exactly."

"I'm sure someone mentioned a family connection."

Madari glanced at Jahni, who wore a puzzled frown. Not now, Madari thought. I can't deal with this now. He turned back to Sattan.

"He was my brother in law."

"Ah," realisation crossed Sattan's face and he looked embarrassed for a moment. "Ah, yes. Well, his unit is at your disposal. Now, don't let me keep you. Report back here for final briefing at 0330 hours. Dismiss."

"Sir." Madari saluted. No uniform, except his sash, and looking like a bandit, even so he was still a soldier. He didn't notice if Jahni saluted or not, because he avoided looking at him, as they left the house, found it fully dark outside now. Jahni stayed quiet until they were out of earshot of the guards, then spoke quietly.

"You never told me you had a sister." Madari didn't like the tone. Low, dangerous, tinged with a horrible sarcasm that bordered on insubordinate.

"I don't have a sister."

"Then you --"

Madari interrupted him, swinging around to look at him, barely able to see him in the darkness.

"I was married. Many years ago. I am no longer married. Do you have any other questions?" He didn't like his own tone, so cold. Jahni deserved an explanation, but that sarcastic tone, even from him, made Madari's hackles rise.

"No," Jahni said, shortly. "It's not apparently any of my business."

"It... There are more important matters to deal with now."

"Of course." The tone had become sulky now, surly. They began to walk again, in silence for the whole way.

The campsite was set up and Noor handed them both a mug of tea as they walked up to where men sat around fires.

"Thank you, Captain." He held up the folder. "I'm going to study these. Our assignment is the airport. I'm going to study the plans then call a briefing." He wanted to study the plans alone first, let his own ideas form, before he brought the others in to consult with him. He glanced over at Jahni, who stood sipping tea and glowering.

"Lieutenant, set patrols for the night."

Jahni nodded, threw away what remained in his cup and tossed the mug back at Noor who, taken by surprise caught it awkwardly in both hands, nearly fumbling it. Noor stared after Jahni as he strode off.

"What's got into him?"

Madari didn't answer. Would it be too arrogant, he wondered, to believe that I just broke his heart?

~~~~

Jahni took a rifle and went on patrol himself, though knew he would have to go back soon. Madari would want him present when they made their plans for how they took the airport.

He almost didn't care. As they'd approached the city his tension had already been building, had been since they received the order to report to the city. The order that meant they'd be going into battle, perhaps for the last time. The order that meant it was over. Not only the campaign, but also what he had with Madari. Because after this, if they won, if they survived, the only future was separation.

Then to hear what he'd heard tonight. He'd believed Madari had been a bachelor all his life. He'd never mentioned a wife. Not once.

Pull yourself together, he told himself. What damn business is it of yours? What does it matter? He never lied. If he's not married now then why should he mention her? And why the hell should Jahni be feeling like he'd just bitten a sour apple? Why the hell should he be feeling something he could not possibly be feeling?

Jealousy.

He stamped on through the darkness. Jealous? Absurd! Nerves about the battle, nothing more. Tension that screamed for relief. He wished that battle could start right now, because at this moment what he wanted most in the world was someone to hit.

With his mind so pre-occupied, he bumped into a man in his path before he even saw him approach.

"Watch it!" The other man snapped, then, after a pause, said in a wary tone. "Oh. Hello, Jahni."

Jahni grinned as he recognised the man's voice and then saw his face in the moonlight. Right now he wanted someone to hit and look who just dropped out of the sky.

"Hello, Raslan."

~~~~

Feeling harassed, Madari found his way once again to General Sattan's temporary HQ. A soldier let him in, he stepped into the hallway and he stared.

Jahni stood against the wall on one side of the hall, battered and dishevelled. A soldier stood beside him, on guard. Across the other side of the hall, subject to Jahni's fierce glare, Captain Sayeed Raslan sat in a chair. Also battered, also guarded and also glaring.

Madari moved towards Jahni, but the man who'd been guarding the door took his arm, spoke quietly.

"The general wishes to speak with you."

A moment later Madari found himself in the room he'd been in earlier, but Sattan didn't smile at him this time. Madari didn't face the general alone though. Colonel Jumale sat by the desk.

Madari bowed his head and shook Jumale's hand when the colonel stood up.

"Major, good to see you."

"And you, Colonel, I trust you are in good health."

"Gentlemen." Sattan interrupted their greetings, scowling. "We are short of time."

"I'm sorry, sir," Madari said, "What happened?"

"Your men were fighting." Sattan shared his scowl equally between the two commanders, glancing back and forth at each of them. Madari and Jumale glanced at each other, then back at the general. "This is unacceptable behaviour, Colonel, Major. I don't expect this kind of ill-discipline from officers."

"I apologise for Captain Raslan," Jumale said, with a small frown.

"And I for Lieutenant Jahni," Madari said at once.

"I will leave them in your hands, gentlemen, I have no time to deal with them." His voice softened a tiny amount. "I'm aware that everyone is very tense tonight. I suggest you take your men back to your camps and keep them there until you are ready to move out. If they have some kind of personal issue they will have to wait until later to resolve it." He looked stern again. "Dismiss."

Madari and Jumale bumped into each other in their haste to get through the door. In the hallway, they both glowered at their errant officers, who still fixed each other with hate-filled glares. Madari stepped towards Jahni, but Jumale took his arm and spoke quietly.

"A word, Major?"

They stepped out into the chill of the night air and Jumale shivered and folded his arms, putting his hands into the opposite sleeves.

"I already spoke to Raslan, before you arrived. He said your man Jahni started the fight."

Madari scowled. "Oh really?"

Jumale smiled. "I didn't say I believed him."

"Ah." Madari paused for a moment. "Um, how long has Raslan been with your unit?"

"A few months now. He arrived one day, said he couldn't work with Dasham any more and would I take him on."

"Yes, he had some kind of falling out with Dasham. Did he explain?"

"No. I asked, but all he'd say was a 'personality clash'." He shrugged. "Whatever that means."

"But you kept him on."

Jumale shrugged again. "He's good. And he has a certain, I don't know, a way of making friends with people. He has the rest of my lads wrapped around his little finger."

That amazed Madari. If his men looked like bandits then Jumale's were pirates. A small group, but they made a big impression, with lightning fast commando raids leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. The ones Madari had met were a rough and ready bunch who feared nothing and nobody. Hard to imagine even the slick Raslan winning over such men, but of course he did have a certain something.

"Charm," Madari said, but shivered at the thought too. Jumale smiled.

"Yes. Exactly. And yet, well I doubt his sincerity. Sometimes I even doubt..." He shook his head, laughed. "Well, sometimes I catch a look in his eyes, a look that I'd hate to see in a dark alley." He laughed again, a slightly forced sound to it.

"Do you think he's dangerous?" Madari asked, glancing back towards the house. His own twist of fear of Raslan, that he'd felt back on that battle day might seem less foolish if he could believe that someone else felt it too.

"He's certainly dangerous to the enemy!" Jumale grinned, and then frowned. "Though I've found he can be at his best on solo missions. Damn good at recon, very observant lad." He nodded. "But fine in combat too. I've seen him kill without him or the enemy making a sound too."

Madari didn't say anything. Such a man did sound dangerous. But he'd seen Jahni kill silently, efficiently, in the dark. Would he call Jahni dangerous? To the enemy certainly.

"After this is over," Jumale said. "If we win, of course, if he lives, well I thought I might recommend he goes into military intelligence. I get the feeling he'd fit right in with those slimy bastards."

Madari almost laughed with surprise, raised his eyebrows at Jumale.

"Colonel, I believe you are absolutely correct." He found it hard to believe he'd not thought of the same thing himself. "That is a very good idea."

"Well, I'd better get him back to camp." He took his hands out of the sleeves where he'd been warming them, and held out a hand to Madari, who took it. Jumale kept his grip light, though held on to the hand while he continued to speak. "Good luck tomorrow, Major. If we..." A haunted look crossed his face for a moment. "If we don't meet again, it has been an honour knowing you."

"For me too, Colonel. Good luck to you and your unit. I hope we will meet again."

They embraced then and Jumale turned away, called out.

"Captain! Come out here!"

A moment later Raslan emerged from the house. He looked at Madari and after a moment bowed his head.

"Major."

"Captain."

"Come on. I want to get at least ten minutes sleep tonight!" Jumale led Raslan away and Madari watched them vanish into the darkness.

Madari didn't know about the colonel, but doubted he himself would get even ten minutes sleep. He had been off his sleeping pills for over two weeks now, needing to be sharper, more alert, for the final battles. The nightmares had not returned in full force, he had them perhaps only one in three nights now. But still he slept so badly that only large amounts of coffee kept him alert enough to function.

Shaking himself, he went to the door of the house, looked inside to see Jahni now crouched down, leaning against the wall, head down, hands locked together. He needs rest as much as I do, Madari thought. Some leave, some time away from the continual tension of waiting for combat or attack.

"Kahil." Madari's voice was soft, the man standing beside Jahni didn't seem to notice it, but Jahni looked up at once. Madari nodded at Jahni to follow him and turned to step back out of the house.

A moment later Jahni arrived at his side. They walked in silence for a while. Jahni's breathing, audible in the still night sounded fast. Madari noticed their steps did not synchronise, as they usually did when walking side by side, obeying the soldier's instinct to fall into step with a companion.

"What was the fight about?" Madari asked eventually. He should yell at Jahni, he supposed, but what would be the use? There seemed no sense in making him more tense ahead of the battle.

"He was annoying me," Jahni said, voice low, almost a growl.

"What was he doing?" Madari asked, voice still calm, a little cold.

"He was... He was... breathing!"

Madari scowled now, unable to keep annoyance out of his voice when he spoke.

"Don't be a child, Lieutenant!"

Jahni didn't respond, walked glaring ahead into the darkness. Madari calmed down, spoke more levelly, though trying to keep his voice as stern as it should be.

"I expect better of you, Kahil." No answer, but he didn't really expect one. "I know this is a difficult time, and I know you are very... tired. Nevertheless, you are an officer. You have to behave like one."

A response at last. "Yes, sir." Almost a whisper.

"You are not just an ordinary officer, you are one of my best officers, and certainly you are my best soldier."

Jahni looked at him, eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Yes," Madari's voice shook a little, trying to stay stern, calm. "And I think the men look up to you. However, that means I hold you to even higher standards of behaviour, not lower. I wouldn't tolerate this kind of behaviour from any of the other officers, don't expect me to tolerate it from you."

Jahni looked down again, walked with his hands behind his back now.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"To expect that would be to... to trespass on our, ah, our personal relationship. You have never attempted to take advantage of it before. Please, don't start doing so now."

"I understand, sir, of course." Jahni glanced at him then away again. "You've never shown any favouritism towards me," he added.

"And I'm not starting now."

Jahni nodded, and bit his lip. They walked on in silence and a few minutes later reached their camp. A few of the men on guard gave them curious looks, but Madari just nodded acknowledgements, while Jahni ignored them altogether and walked away with a short "goodnight" to Madari.

Madari watched him go then found his own tent, lay down inside and failed to go to sleep.

~~~~

Jahni also failed entirely in his efforts to sleep. He lay down for two minutes and then remembered he'd actually been on patrol before he'd run into Raslan. He would be useless for patrol now though, he knew. All he could pay attention to were the emotions throbbing through his head, threatening to burst out.

He found his rifle, left the tent, and took up a guard position by the fire. Madari's tent stood nearby. Perhaps if Madari cried out in his sleep, Jahni could go to him, they could talk. He could ask...

Ask what? Things that were none of his business. Picking up some small stones, he threw them one at a time into the fire making it crackle. Sparks floated up into the inky night sky.

He'd thought fighting Raslan would relieve some of the tension turning his body into an over wound spring, but it hadn't helped. Why had he thought it would? Raslan was an untrustworthy bastard, but Jahni didn't care enough about him to make hitting him any kind of dream come true.

Perhaps he needed the tension, should stay wound as tight as possible, and unwind it all on the enemy tomorrow. No, he shook his head, that's foolish. Because the way he felt now left him unable to concentrate. His discipline, his control, felt out of reach. Those abilities helped make him Madari's best soldier and now he couldn't find them. Still he smiled for a moment, remembering Madari saying it. My best soldier. In the midst of the shame of being caught brawling with Raslan, the even worse shame of causing Madari to face the general and account for Jahni's bad behaviour; in the middle of all that shame he'd been given a moment of enormous pride.

He had to earn that again. Tomorrow he had to show that he was still worthy of the title of Madari's best soldier. He would fight with all of his courage, all of his strength, even if it cost him his life. And if he survived? What then?

That's when he knew the real cause of his tension, of the knot growing in his stomach. He didn't fear defeat almost as much as he feared victory. Victory meant separation.

"Kahil?" Madari's voice from behind him startled Jahni, and that shamed him too, that he was so distracted he'd not heard Madari come out of the tent and step up behind him.

"Sir?" Jahni looked up at him.

"Did you call me? I thought I heard you call my name."

Jahni frowned. "No, sir. I didn't."

"I must have dreamt it." Madari stepped to the fire where a coffee pot sat on the stones beside it and picked it up, protecting his hand with his sash. A small stack of tin mugs sat beside the pot and Madari poured a cup and first offered it to Jahni, who shook his head. Madari replaced the coffee pot and sat down on the ground beside Jahni.

"I think you have something to ask me, Kahil."

His voice was quiet, so only Jahni could hear him. Jahni glanced around, and then moved a little closer to Madari.

"It isn't really my business." If he'd guessed correctly what Madari meant, then it most definitely was not his business.

"Ask me," Madari said.

"You... Why did you never tell me you were married?" Jahni blushed when he asked it, felt like a fool. He cast his eyes down, gazed intently for a moment at the scratched and battered surface of his rifle.

Madari didn't answer at once, stared into the fire for a while, still sipping coffee. Eventually he spoke, still not turning to Jahni.

"The way it ended is not something that I feel very... proud of." He finished the coffee and put the cup down, looked at Jahni, smiling. "You're twenty five now aren't you? That's how old I was when I married. Our families arranged it. We'd known each other for several years. We were friends. As much as a young man and woman are allowed to be."

"What was her name?"

"Munira. She was well educated, intelligent, good looking. A fine hostess. Trained to run a household. The perfect wife for an up and coming Royal Guard officer of good family. A good catch." He laughed. "Both of us were in fact."

"But you weren't in love with her." Jahni bit his lip. It sounded such a foolish question. More people married for love now, but many still had marriages arranged by their families, and certainly a generation back that would be common.

"No. I liked her and I respected her. She was a fine woman and I would have..." His voice caught, but he cleared his throat and went on. "I would have been happy to have children with her. But it did not work out that way."

"You don't have to tell me," Jahni said. "If it's too personal."

Madari looked at him, smiled gently. "I don't think there are many things I cannot tell you now, Kahil. A few. But only a few."

Jahni flushed and looked down at his rifle again. He shifted his weight on the ground, his legs feeling cramped, and then went still again as Madari continued.

"She fell in love. My wife. But not with me." His voice dropped lower, so Jahni had to strain to hear. "Another Royal Guard officer. A man I considered a friend. I was entirely oblivious to it until they came to me and told me they were in love and Munira wanted a divorce. They said they had not... that they were not lovers. I... allowed myself to believe that. Perhaps it was true."

"And you gave her a divorce?"

"Yes. What was the alternative?" He shook his head. "Make her stay, knowing she loved him? Knowing that they would probably eventually start seeing each other and then I would have to... to take action that I would not really feel justified in taking? No." He shook his head. "It felt wrong to force her to stay. Letting them go, allowing the divorce without making a big scandal of it felt like the most... civilised way to behave. They talked me into it. I talked myself into it." He gave a short laugh and sat silent for a while.

Jahni carefully reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Comfort. Support, he thought, nothing more. Truly, in this moment, this reopening of old wounds, then it was nothing more than that.

"You did what you thought was right. And if they were in love..."

Madari smiled at him. "Yes, I kept thinking that. I didn't love her, he did, and she loved him. What was I if I forced her to stay? Perhaps I failed in my duty as a husband, as a man, but..."

"You thought love was more important than those things." The words came out in a rush and Jahni had to bite his lip, feeling bad for interrupting.

"Yes. I did think that."

Jahni instantly wanted to ask if he still felt that way, but kept the question inside. Madari picked up a stick from beside the fire and poked the fire, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Also... Well at the time of the divorce, it was only a few months after Ahmed's death and I just felt that I didn't have the strength to go through a scandal. I felt ashamed later, felt sure he would have been ashamed of me, because I didn't fight for my marriage. Because I let another man steal my wife. I know he would have been ashamed of me for that."

Silence stretched between them.

"Ahmed would be proud of you now," Jahni said after a while.

"I hope so," Madari said. "Perhaps I finally lived up to the names he gave me. Certainly they feel lighter now, easier to carry." He looked at Jahni. "Your father, your family would have been proud of you, Kahil. Are proud of you."

Jahni nodded. He agreed with the first part, they would have been. The second part, putting their pride in the present tense, knowing Madari meant they watched him from paradise. That part he could no longer agree with. He watched Madari for a while. Could he tell Madari that now? That all belief, all faith, had disappeared. That he no longer had a soul and at prayers, he spoke words that held no meaning?

Perhaps not tonight. Not when they could die tomorrow.

"Was it difficult to get a divorce back then?" Jahni asked, knew the laws had changed over the years.

Madari gave a soft laugh.

"You make it sound as if it was in the Stone Age, Kahil. It was only just over a decade ago. But, no, it was not too difficult, not as long as everyone wanted it. And if they all happened to be rich that helped too. It was all very discreet. After it was done, they left the country to go and live in Egypt. That was part of the bargain they made to persuade me to cooperate."

Jahni nodded. "You wouldn't have wanted to see him around the barracks after that."

"No."

The silence stretched between them, until Jahni spoke again. The moment seemed to have passed now, he thought. Time to move on.

"If the king comes back do you think he'll bring back the divorce laws he brought in? Some people say they were too liberal."

"I'd be a hypocrite if I were to oppose them," Madari said, with a wry look and a short laugh. He held his hands out to the fire, and then rubbed them, warming them.

"What about his other reforms? I suppose you must have been a supporter if you were in the conspiracy."

Madari shrugged. "Not all of them. Some I did think went too far, were too liberal, too western. Nevertheless, he is the king. That was my reason for being in the conspiracy. I might not have agreed with all of his actions. But, he is the king."

It sounded like blind loyalty, but Jahni thought there was more to it than that. Madari sometimes called himself old fashioned, and indeed, he often was, to Jahni's eyes anyway. On the other hand, he could sometimes be liberal enough to shock some of the other men, Faraj in particular. A man of contrasts. A man you could talk to all of your life and never find out everything about. Which sounded exactly what Jahni wanted, to talk to Madari for the rest of his life. But after tomorrow, if they lived, if they won, after that, this would all change.

"Sir, do you ever think about what would have happened if you had left? After the liberation of the prison, I mean. Left with the Americans. Gone to Jordan, or even America."

America. It sounded like a fabled land to Jahni. You can do anything in America. All the rules we have here, written and unwritten, so many of them didn't exist in America. We could be... Whatever we wanted to be.

"No," Madari said, a small frown on his face. "No, I never thought about that. I mean I understood it was possible, that I could have claimed political asylum, but I never seriously considered it."

This time you chose duty, Jahni thought. He knew that he was avoiding the one question that still filled his head. If he didn't ask it then nothing else would fit in there. No battle plans, no tactics, no orders.

"Sir, what happens after tomorrow? Or however long it takes. What happens to us after we win?"

"If God wills it." Madari murmured, an automatic response.

"If then, if we win. Do our lives return to normal? Do we go... home?"

Madari looked at him for a long time. I have no home, Jahni thought. Except at your side. And if we win then I lose. I have to go back to my regiment, you go back to yours and to your home, and how often do we see each other after that?

"What happens to us, Faris?" A whisper, so low he couldn't be certain Madari heard it. He stared down at his own hands, resting on his rifle. One of Madari's hands came into his vision, rested on Jahni's right hand.

"If we die, we will find each other."

No, we will not! Jahni wanted to scream it. If we die, we will never see each other again. Darkness forever. Oblivion.

"If we live?" Jahni's voice shook as he asked it, afraid to look up, to let Madari see his eyes shining. Had his strength vanished along with his discipline?

"Then... I don't know, Kahil. I'm sorry. I don't know."

end chapter 1