Ok, now everyone please forgive me!! This is the first fic that I've ever done for this fandom so please forgive me about everything in this fic! Virtually all the characters are made up, well everyone excepting Ardeth of course… Duh…

It's AU, and follows an event in Ardeth's childhood so therefore it has none of the other characters in it. Sorry, all you die-hard Rick, Imhotep, Meela, Anuck-su-na-mun, Evelyn, Jonathon, and every other character possible, but I'm afraid they're not going to show up here. Also, I had no idea about Ardeth's childhood so I made him up some parents and other stuff….

Disclaimer: I don't anything here. Well, actually, let me rephrase that. I don't own Ardeth but all other characters are mine. Please don't use them, unless you tell me first that you're going to use them. But I do own Aragorn-the-16-year-old!!! YAHOO!! Damn, that's a lie too. Why do I seem to like guys with long hair that fight with swords and turn out to either be leaders or kings??

Author: Roz

Email:[email protected]

Rating: PG-13 (due to violence and other stuff……)

Genre: Sex, drugs and rock and roll. Nah, joking there! Action, violence, drama, and angst? I guess whatever you see in it…..

Summary: Ardeth goes out on his coming-of-age hunt and runs into some trouble. After being captured by a renegade tribe with a reason to hate the Med-Jai, the young warrior must fight for his life and find a way back to his tribe.

Feedback: Oh please, please, PLEASE!!! I live for feedback!! Even if you tell me I suck and should jump off a cliff!!! Please send all death-threats to my email!!

Archival: I would be honoured to be in someone archives, just tell me first so I can visit your pages as well!

And finally! On with the story!

***

Ardeth Bay stepped out onto the bare sand and glanced at his surroundings, a smile gracing his lips. With his head proudly held high, his feet apart and shoulders squared, he looked as impressive as a future leader of the Med-Jai should look.

But it was the wide smile, the laughing expression and the mischievous look in his eye that gave away his frivolity and enjoyment of the moment.

Ardeth Bay had come of age that very morning. He had just turned 18.

Dressed in simple black robes, the young man spread out his arms and threw his head back just as a zephyr of wind caught him. Swirling the sand into miniature cyclones at his feet, the wind tore at his cloak and pushed his dark locks of hair streaming loose. The wind grew stronger, making his cloak struggle fiercely against his body, the cloth pulling tight against his chest and trying vainly to follow the flow of the breeze. The sand eddies swirled higher, engulfing the slight figure in a vortex, the black robes and brown sand mingling together and becoming as one.

Ardeth had his eyes clenched tightly together and smiled even wider as he felt the sand scrape across his skin, and the wind ruffle his hair. The wind shrieked around him and fingers tore at his cloak and caressed his face. Without thinking, the teenager opened his mouth and let out a roar of exhilaration. The instinctive cry of adrenaline and joy rushed through the boy's senses and echoed up through the sandy cyclone, pulling itself loose and reverberating throughout his camp.

As suddenly as the wind had come, it left, leaving in its place a very dusty but very happy teenager. Ardeth let loose another cry which echoed throughout the wadi he was camped and slowly lowered his arms.

Apparently, the gods approved of him.

He shook his head, still grinning and laughed as a torrent of sand feel out from his dark locks. He turned and looked at the horizon, the sun just beginning to rise in the east. The sky was a light blue, no cloud marring the image. The sand was a pale golden colour, the rays of the sun turning the sand glittering and dazzling with shades of red and pink wherever it touched.

Things were good, Ardeth surmised, while walking back over to his campfire.

Breakfast was a quick and hurried affair, the newly turned 18 year old, having no patience. As soon as the meal was eaten, the campfire dampened with sand and all signs of camp erased, the young Med-Jai threw himself over his horse and quickly galloped off.

He laughed wildly as he bumped on it's bare back; the horse having caught his owner's adrenaline had its neck stretched out, it's black mane flowing loose in the wind, it's powerful legs eating up the distance and kicking up the sand, it's nostrils wide open and its mouth slightly opened, panting.

Slowly, both the teenager and horse calmed down and the horse dropped back from a gallop to a canter, from a canter to a trot and finally from a trot to a walk.

Ardeth laughed once again, and rubbed his horse's sweaty neck. The horse snickered in pleasure and tossed its head.

Things are great; Ardeth changed his opinion while surveying the seemingly empty desert in front of him.

He was out on his coming of age hunt – and life couldn't be better.

When all boys turned 18 in the Med-Jai camp, they could, if they wished it, test their survival skills with only the basic elements needed to survive.

Most boys decided they couldn't be bothered going, and preferred to stay in the camp and practice the warring and fighting skills in preparation for their examination when they turned 21.

Ardeth had gone against the general consensus and had left the night before, glad to get out of the camp and rely on himself. And he did not regret making that decision.

His parents, the leader of the Med-Jai and his wife hadn't questioned their son's decision but took it gently in their stride, his father giving him simple advice and leaving most of judgments to his hopefully capable son. Truth be told, his mother was slightly worried but all mothers were every time that their son stepped a foot out of the camp.

He was only allowed the basic essentials and everything else had to be either invented along the way or dealt without. He had in possession a horse with only a rope rein, no saddle, a bow and arrow with a suitable supply of arrows, a scimitar, a water pouch, a knife and the clothes he was wearing.

He was hunting. He had eaten a fair bit before he had left, making sure that he had enough fat on him to survive the harsh desert but just in one day, he had sweated and worked most of it off, his body rejecting the fat and virtually instantly turning it into muscle as the young Med-Jai travelled through the desert. Most boys that left to go on their trip returned with only about ½ their body weight.

Surviving in the desert was harsh on the body but Ardeth was well-equipped to deal with it. His muscles gleamed as if oiled in the sun and riding and running was easy and took nothing out of him.

But he had been given no food when he had left and he was hungry, his fast metabolism telling him that it was time for some food once again.

Ardeth stopped his horse and slid off the black sweat-slicked fur back and dropped gently his knees, his fingers touching the sand gently. He raised his head and looked closely at the sand for tell tale signs of some suitable prey.

He found it and murmured unintelligently to himself, scooting forward, being careful to not disturb the tracks any further.

He had found the tracks of a jackal, heading north.

Touching the indentation of a jackal's paw print briefly Ardeth slowly stood up and surveyed his surroundings once more before vaulting back onto his horse.

He gently grabbed the reins and steered his mount northwards, his bare feet soothingly touching the horse's flank and subtly redirecting it. He whinnied softly, obeying its master commands and Ardeth kept close watch on the tracks beside him.

Jackals could travel miles in just one day and it appeared that this one was fit. Ardeth grinned suddenly, his white teeth gleaming.

"This will just make the hunt more interesting", he surmised as he patted his horse. However, the day had just begun and looking at the tracks, they had a fair way to go before Ardeth even had the chance of spotting his prey – and his stomach was still viciously protesting its lack of food.

Ardeth dug his heels into his horse's side and crouched over the neck of the horse, as it sprung forward and flew over the dunes, still following the tracks.

Ardeth's smile grew wider as he flew with the horse, not realising just how far this hunt was going to take him.

This hunt would test the young Med-Jai's strength and ahead a fight awaited the teenager. It was a fight that would decide the young leader's future - whether he would live or perish.

***

Abel looked out across the burning sands and sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around herself tightly in a vain attempt to keep in the body heat that was fast escaping due to the crisp, cold air of the desert afore night.

She dipped her head and allowed her long, dark hair to cover over half her face and closed her eyes slowly, the long lashes framing her exquisitely darkened eyes. She started as an arm snaked itself across her belly but relaxed as it pulled her towards it's owner.

She looked up into a pair of eyes as dark as her own and a face ruggedly handsome, with the lines of power and fatigue drawn faintly across its suntanned skin. The eyes stared back at her, deep love and gentleness echoed in their irises. Abel sighed once again and let her head lay back upon his chest, her almost black hair blending in with the owner's robes.

"Abel, what are you thinking about?" Hashim chided his wife gently as he gently held her to his body and kissed her hair. He loved the smell of her; it never ceased to surprise the Med-Jai leader that such a beautiful woman would've married him.

"Nothing much Hashim." Abel avoided her husband's eyes and continued to stare out across the sandy dunes, unease rippling in her feelings.

Hashim smiled lazily, his grin amazingly like an echo of his sons'. "You are worried about our son, are you not?" He forced her to turn around and face him.

Abel looked up at him and nodded slowly. "There is something….. You might think me crazy Hashim, but there is something……"

Hashim regarded his wife quietly, silently taking in her feelings. Sometimes she could feel things that he could not and vice versa. He positioned his arm across her waist and pulled her close, drawing her in closer to his body, sharing their body heat in the crisp dawn. "What are you feeling?"

Abel exhaled slowly and snuggled deeper into his robes, "I do not know what I quite feel. I am definitely feeling anxious and worried, like every mother would be. But there is something else hidden beneath that. Something more uneasy, something more sinister. I can't tell what it is. I'm sorry Hashim but I cannot fully explain it to you."

Hashim stroked her hair and tried to quell her rising fears, "Ardeth will be fine Abel. He is a very capable young man, we should know it. How many times has he told us that he is fine by himself and that we should trust him more and that he can hold his own?" The leader of the Med-Jai laughed heartily, remembering the arguments that him and his son had had, Ardeth trying to receive independence and freedom.

Abel grinned uncertainly but the smile vanished as she shivered.

Hashim frowned and drew her closer, "What is wrong wife?"

Abel's face paled and she bit her lip, "I do not know husband. It's like some bird of prey deep within my chest, clutched my heart and tore it to shreds with its taloned claws and then shrieked a cry of a thousand devils to have only the echoes of the sand hear him." She trembled and clutched a handful of her leader's robe.

"I'm scared Hashim. Something is going to go wrong. I'm scared for Ardeth. Something is not right."

The leader clicked his tongue and made soothing noises from the back of his throat while caressing his wife's head and staring out across the ever-brightening sand. "Do not worry yourself Abel. Our Ardeth will be fine. He is strong, the future leader of the Med-Jai and he is our son. We have taught him well, and whatever the events Allah wishes to send upon Ardeth – I'm sure our son will hold himself honourably."

The Med-Jai wrapped his arms protectively across his wife's trembling chest and sent up a prayer to the gods, Allah, protect my son.

****

Ardeth knelt once again in the sand, unaware of the danger that was silently stalking him back behind the sandy dunes.

The jackal had slowed down and the young man knew that he was closing in on his prey. He gave a whoop of exhilaration and ran lightly along the sand, his footprints barely visible on the surface.

As he hunted down his prey, Ardeth didn't realise that he himself was prey for a much larger, a more vindictive, much darker predator.

It was a mistake that would cost the young Med-Jai dearly.

****

Dark, beady eyes watched him from abreast the top of a sand dune mere metres away. The sound of jingling was mutely heard throughout the dense mid-morning air as the horses impatiently tossed their heads and blew through their lips. It was testament to the concentration of the young man that they were watching, that he didn't even notice the slight clinking on the air.

A man in light brown robes sneered as he watched the teenager's carefree antics.

"He will not know what hit him." A man in tan spoke superciliously beside him.

The brown man nodded and smiled a toothy smile, devoid of all caring emotion. "Yes, the Med-Jai will not know what hit them."

A hooded grey figure behind the brown man silently inched his horse closer and asked, "My Lord, do you wish the order to be given? My archers have him sighted and can easily take him down. That is the silent method of course, but we also have the rifle sighted upon him."

The brown man, apparently the leader was silent for a moment, deep in thought and replied, "Not quite yet. I am waiting for a message. We will continue to stalk him and order all the men to remain out of view. Understand?"

The grey figure nodded curtly and moved his horse away, talking softly to the dozen men assembled behind him.

The man in tan raised his eyebrows questioningly but the brown man silenced any unspoken questions with a decisive wave of his hand. "Patience my son."

"But father, he is unarmed, he is clearly unaware that we are here. Why don't we kill him right here, right now?"

"Don't question my motives Jawhar. There are higher things at work here." The voice was cold, clipped and curt.

Jawhar flinched inwardly, glad that his hood was hiding most of the view of his face. He lowered his eyes from his father's face and nodded in submission.

"Yes father."

Ruwaid, the leader of the Sami-Nimr turned away from his son and surveyed the black teenager playing in the sand beneath and narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, the Med-Jai curs will pay for everything that they have done."

****

Okay, now that is a taste of what is to come, I guess. This chapter is what i'd call a, "Testing the water" chapter. I'm trying to decide whether i should continue with this, or should i just give up? I mean, whats the point of writing a Ardeth Childhood fic, full of angst, blood, torture, betrayal and sex? (Haha, as if. No sex. No romance. I can't stand writing romance fics.), if no-one is going to read it? Or even if no-one even likes young Ardeth fics?

But tell me if you like it, and i'll continue it. If you don't....i don't know....