"You shall die, and I will be avenged at long last." Ali laughed, a short, satanic laugh. "Ah, but revenge is sweet. If only Yasir were here to see your death, I would be the happiest of men. I will even grant you a last wish if it is reasonable."

"You are too kind," said Philip sarcastically. "I would like to see Christina Wakefield now."

"Ah yes, the woman. I did say that you could see her, did I not? But first I must warn you, I am afraid she met with a slight accident before she came here."

"An accident? Where is she?" Philip demanded.

Ali Hejaz motioned to one of the men behind Philip. The man lifted a curtain at the back of the tent.

Philip saw Christina huddled on the floor. "Oh, my God!" he gasped. He bent down to touch her, but she didn't move.

"I thought it best to drug her for a few days until the swelling goes down," Ali said from behind him.

Philip stood up and turned very slowly to face the old man. The muscles in his cheeks twitched with the violent rage consuming him.

"Who did this?" he said quietly, emotions held tautly in check. "Who did this to her?"

"It should not have happened. The man who beat her has always been cruel to women. When she ran from him he went wild and beat her before my men could stop him. He will die, of course. I gave strict orders not to harm the woman, and he disobeyed me. I have not yet decided how he will die, but he will."

"Give him to me," Philip said grimly.

"What?"

"Give the man who did this to me. You have granted me one request. I want the man who beat her."

Ali looked at Philip incredulously, then his old eyes widened. "Of course! It is right that you have the honor. I have no doubt you will win, but it will be a fair fight. You will fight with knives, immediately, in the center of the camp. After Cassim dies, you shall die a slower death."

Philip followed the old man from the tent. He could think only of killing the man who had dared hurt Christina.

"Bring Cassim out and tell him what is expected," Ali ordered.

Ali took his own knife from his belt and handed it to Philip. "When the fight is over, you will throw down the knife and offer no resistance. If you do not, Christina Wake-field will never be returned to her brother, but will be sold into slavery. Do you understand?"

Philip nodded and took the knife. He stuck it into his waistband, removed his robe and tunic, then grasped the knife in his right hand. Cassim was brought out of a nearby tent, fear showing clearly on his face. He was dragged forward to stand before Philip.

"I will not fight this man!" Cassim screamed. "If I must die, then shoot me!"

"Stand up and fight like a man. Or I will have your heart torn from your living body!" Ali shouted.

Philip felt no pity for the man cowering before him. All he could see was Christina's swollen face. "Prepare to die, woman-beater."

Cassim was released and fell back a few feet, then lunged forward. But Philip was ready for him. He stepped aside, and his knife caught Cassim in the right arm, below the shoulder. They circled each other warily, arms outstretched. Cassim jabbed forward again, intending to stab Philip in the chest. But Philip moved like lightning striking its unsuspecting victim. He cut downward on Cassim's extended arm, slicing it to the bone. Cassim dropped his knife to the ground, staring dumbfounded at the wound. Philip backhanded him across the face, knocking him down.

He gave Cassim time to retrieve his knife, then attacked again. Cassim was obviously no knife-fighter and his fear made him careless and an easy victim for Philip's skill.

Philip knew many tricks he had learned from his father, but he had no need of tricks now. Philip's knife struck Cassim again and again until he was covered with his own blood. Philip finally tired of the game and cut his throat. Cassim fell forward onto the sand.

Philip felt disgusted. He wouldn't have believed that he had such violence in him. How could he kill a man so mercilessly? The man would have died anyway, and he deserved to suffer for hurting Christina, but Philip felt sick for executing him. He threw the knife down beside Cassim's body and walked over to Ali Hejaz.

"You do not look pleased, Abu. Perhaps you will feel better knowing that Cassim also shot your tribesman."

"There's no way to feel better after killing a man," Philip replied.

"When you have waited many years to kill a man, as I have, revenge can be pleasurable," said Ali. "You will go with my men now. Remember that you hold Christina Wakefield's future in your hands. Also, I have ordered my men to shoot if you try to escape. A wound in an arm or a leg will only make your death more agonizing."

The men seized Philip and led him behind Ali Hejaz's tent. Four stakes stood embedded in the sand, with ropes attached to each. He knew then how he was going to die.

He gave no resistance. The men spread-eagled him on his back and tied his arms and legs to the stakes. Philip heard one man whisper, "Forgive me," then he left. The other man walked to the shade of Ali's tent and sat down to guard Philip.

Guard against what? Philip wanted to know. He could not escape. It was late afternoon, but the sun would beat down for at least two more hours. He felt a slight hunger, but that was the least of his worries.

Not much damage would be done today, but tomorrow his suffering would begin. Would he be able to stand it? Could he will himself to die?

He would force himself to stay awake this night, that was the only way. The two nights and days he had gone without rest would enable him to sleep tomorrow, and perhaps he would die quickly in the hot sun without ever waking.

An hour passed, and Philip was already fighting to stay awake. A shadow loomed over him, and he opened his eyes to see Ali Hejaz.

"I think it is ironic that you should die this way, don't you? You wanted to live under our sun and make Yasir happy, so it is only fitting that you die under our sun. It is not a pleasant way to die. Your tongue will swell. But I do not want you to choke to death too soon. You will be given enough water to prevent that. You will suffer long, as the sun bakes you alive. And if you thought of staying awake this night and sleeping through your suffering tomorrow, I will have to disappoint you. I drugged your wine slightly, and you will sleep tonight." Ali laughed as he put an end to Philip's only hope. "You look surprised, Abu. But, as you see, I have thought of everything. Yes, you will be awake tomorrow when the sun rises. Have a pleasant night, Abu. It will be your last." With that, he left Philip to his thoughts.

Philip pulled against the ropes with all his strength, but there was no hope for escape. He slept.

Chapter Seventeen

THE pain in his eyes brought Philip awake. When he opened them, he stared directly into the late morning sun and was blinded for a minute. He wondered for a moment why he had slept outside, until he tried to rise and felt the pain in his shoulders.

So—the sun was already doing its work, he thought when he looked down at his burned chest and arms. At least Hejaz had been wrong about one thing—he had not been awake to see the sun rise. Philip lay perfectly still.

The sun was directly above him now. Philip's tongue felt foreign in his mouth, like a piece of dry cloth. The sweat baked from his body hurt him as it rolled over burned skin. How long could he last? He forced himself to think of pleasant things and lost himself in thoughts of Christina.

Philip heard a voice calling Mm from a distance, pulling him out of his unconsciousness as it became louder. He opened his eyes with an effort to see Ali Hejaz standing beside him. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry and his lips were cracked and blistered.

"So—you are still alive. You must have a strong desire to live." Ali turned to the guard standing beside him. "Give him a few drops of water, but no more."

The guard dribbled a few drops of water into Philip's mouth, and Ali said, "Tomorrow morning should finish you off. If you still live, I will have one of my men kill you, because we must break camp tomorrow and move on. The water here is running low. I would take you with me and stake you out again, but your tribesmen will come searching for you soon. You will die tomorrow, one way or the other. Pleasant dreams, Abu."

The sun went down, but Philip was still on fire. The water he had been given had only teased his senses. He thought of Christina lying only a few feet away from him in Hejaz's tent At least she was sleeping through this nightmare. But she might enjoy seeing him roasted alive. After all, she hated him. Well, soon she would be back with her brother, as she'd always wanted.

The moon was high when Philip sensed a presence beside Mm. "The camp is finally asleep, but we must be quiet to give no alarm," the man whispered as he bent down beside Philip. "I am Amair Abdalla, brother to Amine who lives in your camp. I beg you to forgive my father and me for our part in this. My father is an old man and only wished to see an end to our sheik's hatred and to see his daughter once again. He realizes now it was wrong to capture your woman. She did not deserve to suffer, nor did you. I will rub a salve onto your skin now. You must not cry out."

Philip's body jerked when the cooling grease touched his skin. He fought back screams as the man worked the salve into his chest and face.

"I would have set you free last night, only you were too heavily drugged. The salve will draw some of the pain after a while," Amair said. He wiped the grease from his hands.

He cut the ropes, pulled Philip to his feet, and handed him a canteen of water. Philip drank sparingly.

"I have your horse waiting in the shadows," said Amair. "The woman is still drugged and will not be able to ride by herself. I will get her presently. Can you talk?"

Philip drank more of the water and was able to whisper hoarsely, "What will happen—"

"My father will meet with the elders in the morning, before Sheik Ali awakes. They will stop Ali from seeking you again, and they will protect me from him. I pray you understand that I was ordered to take the woman. I did not like doing so, but I had no choice. Can you forgive me?"

"You are welcome in my camp," Philip returned.

"I will get your woman now. You have five hours before the sun rises. You should be able to wear your robe by then."

Amair went to the side of the tent and slit it with his knife. He crawled inside and a moment later emerged with Christina in his arms. He put her down beside Philip and went to get the horse.

Amair helped Philip onto Victory, then set Christina in front of him. "Will you be able to ride?"

"I'll have to," Philip said.

Amair walked the horse silently out of the sleeping camp. "I wish you a long and fruitful life, Sheik Abu. Allah be with you."

"Farewell, my friend. I owe you my life," Philip whispered. He urged Victory into a canter and headed toward home.

Philip felt excruciating pain with every movement of the horse, but the salve begain to help after a while. Oddly enough, he could not hate Ali Hejaz. He pitied the man for living with his own hatred for so many years.

Philip thanked God he was still alive. He would heal soon, and he had Christina back. Yes, he had everything to be thankful for.

If only Christina would grow to love him, he would be the happiest man alive. But he couldn't push her. If he declared his love now, she would only laugh. No, he must win her love slowly. He would be patient now that she was with him again.

* * *

Christina's mind slowly cleared, and she realized that she was on a moving horse.

It was daylight She could see the horse's neck and the desert before her. She remembered a desert camp, a meal, and drinking some wine, but nothing more. How did she get on this horse? Where was she being taken now?

She had to escape. She had to get back to Philip. Chris* tina threw her leg over the horse's neck and fell forward onto the sand. The man groaned when she pushed against him, but she didn't care. She scrambled to her feet and started to run.

"Christina!"

Christina stopped. She couldn't believe it. Philip had come for her and was taking her home. She screamed his name and swung around.

"Oh, my Godl" She gasped when she saw his blistered face.