Swords of Arabia: Betrayal (6 page)

“That
close!”
he
gasped.

Mish’al
nodded
sombrely.
“Yes.
He’d
heard
the
growing
unrest
and
had
reports
of
many
groups
of
men
gathering.
He
didn’t
know
why,
but
his
instincts
made
him
put
extra
guards
on
the
citadel
walls
and
had
the
family
moved
into
the
main
meeting
room
and
surrounded
them
by
guards.”

“All
of the
family?
“Nasir
asked
quickly.

“Yes,
Daoud
would
not
be
so
foolish
as
to
leave
any
of
the
Lady
Zahirah’s
children
at
risk!”

“He
is
a
wise
man!
Though
how
did
he
–
or
you
–
know
of
my
brother’s
death?
We
were
certain
we
kept
all
our
men
together
and
none
slipped
away
to
reach
here
before
us.”

“You
did.
The
source
was
ibn
Saud,”
said
Mish’al
flatly.

“ibn
Saud!
He
sent
a
messenger?”

“No
–
more
underhand.
He
sent
a
handful
of
men
to
circulate
in
the
town
and
deliberately
spread
the
news;
knowing
it
would
cause
unrest,
even
panic,
particularly...”
He
trailed
off,
and
his
self-assurance
seemed
to
ebb
away
as
he
suddenly
stumbled
over
his
words.

“Go
on!”
Nasir
said,
his
voice
suddenly
sharp.
He
sensed
what
was
coming,
though
he
fervently
hoped
that
he
was
wrong.

“They
said...”
He
paused,
took
a
deep
breath
and
continued,
“They
said
that
the
Lady
Zahirah
had
killed
him;
killed
the
Emir!”
he
finished,
his
face
showing
both
the
horror
he
felt
and
the
desperate
hope
that
the
informants
had
lied.

“She
did,”
replied
Nasir,
after
a
moment’s
hesitation.
“But
only
when
ibn
Saud
was
at
the
door
of
the
house
we
were
defending
and
seconds
before
Fouad
would
have
become
his
prisoner
and
plaything.”

“Even
so,”
murmured
the
young
chieftain.

“
And
after
Foaud
had
made
her
swear
she
would
do
so,
if
our
defences
crumbled
and
it
became
inevitable
that
it
was
either
that
or
he
become
ibn
Saud’s
trophy.”

“
Ya Allah
!
What
a
woman!
I
would
scarce
dare
do
such
a
thing
and
I
am
a
man!”
gasped
Mish’al,
torn
between
admiration
and
horror.

“The
Lady
Zahirah
is
no
ordinary
woman,
my
friend,
as
we
all
should
know
by
now.
But
her
attendants
saw
her
face
when
she
had
done
as
he
asked.
They
told
me
they’d
never
seen
such
desolation,
such
grief,
on
anyone’s
face
before.”

Mish’al
nodded,
glad
of
Zahirah’s
showing
even
some
of
what
a
woman
should
feel.

“That
is,
for
the
seconds
it
took
for
ibn
Saud
to
enter
the
room
and
she
turned
and
shot
at
him!”
He
laughed
grimly
at
his
friend’s
look
of
stunned
disbelief.
Then,
gesturing
away
Mish’al’s
urgent
suggestion
that
he
have
his
wounds
seen
to,
he
turned
with
difficulty
and
ordered
his
warriors
to
dismount
and
strengthen
the
citadel’s
defences.
He
needed
time
to
ascertain
exactly
what
the
threats
were
to
his
brother’s
family
and
heir.
Only
when
they
were
all
as
secure
as
they
could
be
would
he
be
prepared
to
have
his
wounds
seen
to.

In
the
event,
everything
was
secure
when
he
finally
did
have
the
bullets
removed;
though
he
knew
nothing
of
it.
As
the
final
placements
were
made,
the
citadel
kept
safe
at
least
for
the
moment,
he
collapsed
onto
the
battlements,
haemorrhaging
heavily.
A
double
danger
as
he’d
already
lost
a
life-threatening
amount
of
blood.

Chapter
Three

Her
attendants
following,
Zahirah
hurried
along
the
corridors,
many
shadowed
and
lit
by
oil
lamps
despite
the
hard,
bright
light
of
the
day
outside,
to
the
elderly
sheikha’s
apartments
overlooking
the
busy
harbour.
As
she
entered
the
spacious
and
fragrantly
scented
outer
rooms,
one
glance
at
the
ravaged,
tear-stained
faces
of
the
children,
told
Zahirah
that
they
also
had
already
heard
of
Fouad’s
death.
Only
Talal
and
Firyal
remained
dry-eyed.
The
effort
it
demanded
from
them
both
was
clear
in
their
devastated
faces
as
they
turned
on
her
entrance.
Unable
to
speak
herself,
she
merely
embraced
all
the
children
together
while
she
looked
across
the
room
to
the
shattered
woman
looking
back
at
her;
a
woman
who
seemed
to
be
literally
dying
before
her
eyes.
Though
only
in
her
later
middle
years,
she
was
already
ill
and
increasingly
frail,
and
the
sudden
news
of
her
eldest
son’s
death
had
seemingly
crushed
even
more
of
the
remaining
life
out
of
her
and
would
cost
her
many
of
the
remaining
years
she
could
have
hoped
for.

Despite
her
near-collapse
at
hearing
of
Fouad’s
death,
however,
she
had
rallied
all
her
failing
resources.
With
her
usual
clear-sightedness,
she
had
moved
quickly
to
use
the
time,
the
precious
time,
bought
by
Daoud
and
Mish’al’s
fast
response
to
the
crisis
.

Thus,
when
Zahirah,
had
dealt
with
the
first
waves
of
pain
and
loss
in
her
children
and
turned
to
face
her,
she
had
much
to
tell
the
younger
woman.

“I
have
summoned
Ali,
Habib,
Zafar
and
Hillal,”
the
older
woman
began,
naming
Fouad’s
four
surviving
full
brothers.
“I
see
them
all
being
behind
Talal,
though
for
their
own
very
varied
reasons,”
she
added,
a
world
of
motherly
cynicism
in
her
voice.
“Ali
and
Habib
are
away
patrolling
the
inland
oases,
so
it
will
take
time
for
them
to
get
back
here.
Hillal
I
sent
out
with
a
strong
guard
and
is
moving
around
the
town.
His
presence
will
reassure
our
friends
and
warn
those
ill-disposed
to
us,”
she
continued
quietly.
“Zafar
is
here
in
the
citadel
and
will
join
us
shortly.
Should
it
be
deemed
necessary
he
will
accompany
you
and
Talal
onto
the
Eastern
balcony;
though
I
would
advise doing that only as a last
resort.”

Zahirah
nodded,
awed
as
she
always
was
when
she
observed
the
older
Sheikha
at
work.
Whether
they
were
events
she
had
caused
to
come
to
pass
and
then
moulded
to
her
aims,
or
those,
as
now,
cataclysmically
unexpected,
she
rarely
took
a
false
step.
She
had
carefully
ensured
that
the
brother
most
likely
to
challenge
for
the
Emirship
was
out
in
the
town,
near
enough
to
watch
but
safely
out
of
the
citadel.
Zafar,
the
son
inside
the
citadel,
was
the
least
likely
of
the
four
to
mount
a
challenge.
Though
of
high
status
and
thus
useful
to
have
by
their
side,
he
was
notoriously
lazy
and
had
no
interest
in
becoming
Emir.
Indeed,
Firyal’s
plump,
gentle
youngest
son
had
little
interest
in
anything
except
his
racing
camels
and
his
falcons: on
both
of
which
he
spent
lavishly,
too
lavishly.
His
mother’s
quiet
funding
ensured
both
his
gratitude
and
his
support
when
needed.

Assured
that
all
that
could
be
done
in
the
short
term
had
been
done,
Zahirah
concentrated
on
her
children.
There
would
be
precious
little
time
available
to
spend
with
any
of
the
five
in
the
coming
days,
so
she
took
them
in
her
arms
and
comforted
them
as
they
wept.
She
raised
her
eyes
from
them
only
twice
in
the
next
few
hours.
Once,
on
hearing
of
Nasir’s
collapse,
she
ordered,
on
Firyal’s
suggestion,
his
removal
to
a
room
adjacent
to
the
large
chamber
and
had
his
wives
and
children
brought
into
the
citadel
as
well.
They
were
both
well
aware
that
of
all
Fouad’s
family
he
was
the
one
seen
as
closest
to
Talal
and
themselves.
They
were
equally
aware
that,
seriously
wounded
as
he
was,
he
was
vulnerable
as
never
before.
Though
unlikely,
it
was
not
impossible
that
his
family
were
at
some
risk,
also,
hence
their
move
into
the
safety
of
the
old
fortress.