Swords of Arabia: Betrayal (7 page)

“Mother,
how... How
did
father
die?”
Talal
suddenly.
She
looked
down
at
him
with
infinite
sadness.
At
ten
years
of
age
the
boy,
her
eldest
surviving
child,
and
his
father’s
heir,
would
now,
she
knew,
have
to
grow
rapidly –
too
rapidly – into
manhood.

She’d
seen
the
question
shadowing
his
eyes,
black
and
so
like
his
father’s,
from
the
moment
she’d
entered
the
room
and
knew
it
must
be
answered.
The
one
question
that
she
doubted
her
son,
and
perhaps
many
others,
would
understand
the
answer
to.
Looking
up,
she
saw
the
same
question
mirrored
in
his
grandmother’s
eyes.
In
truth,
that
they
hadn’t
asked
it
hours
before
was
mute
testimony
in
itself
to
the
shock
they
wall felt.
But
now,
she
knew
she
couldn’t
put
off
explaining
what was inexplicable
to
those
closest
to
both
Fouad
and
to
herself.

Breathing
deeply,
she
started
to
speak,
but
then
a
commotion
at
the
door
made
her
turn
quickly.
She
relaxed
only
slightly
as
Badr,
Faoud’s
powerful
half-brother,
strode
into
the
room,
at
the
head
of
half
a
dozen
heavily
armed
men,
his
long,
loping
stride
carrying
him
across
the
room
with
unconscious
arrogance.
He
emanated
an
absolute
surety
of
his
right
to
be
there,
a
power
he
exuded
wherever
he
went
and
whatever
the
circumstances.
He
seemed
entirely
oblivious
to
Daoud
shadowing
him
and
his
men
with
a
dozen
of
his
own
from
the
garrison.
Any
prince
of
the
house
being
accompanied
into
the
citadel
by
even
a
small
group
of
armed
men
was
in
clear
violation
of
rules
in
place
since
Fouad’s
father’s
time.
None
watching
felt
it
was
an
accidental
oversight
by
the
powerful
prince.

The
tall
warrior,
whose
hawk-like
features
and
lithe,
muscular
build
made
him
the
closest
in
appearance
to
Faoud,
his
dead
half-brother,
bowed
his
head
briefly
to
Firyal
before
turning
his
attention
fully
onto
the
younger
woman.
“Sister – I…”
For
a
moment
she
thought
he
would
lose
his
famous
self-possession,
show
some
emotion,
but
he
didn’t.
“I
didn’t
believe
the
rumours
swirling
round
the
town
when
I
rode
in
just
now,
but… Daoud
has
just
confirmed
that
the
Emir – that
Fouad – is
dead!”

She
nodded,
and
was
saved
the
need
to
say
anything
further
as
Nasir
called
weakly
from
the
adjoining
room.
Hurrying
to
the
side
of
the
deathly
pale
invalid
they
were
surprised
to
see,
besides
Ayesha
and
Nawwaf,
a
distraught
Isaac
Ben
Ishmail,
Faoud’s
podgy
chamberlain,
out
of
breath
as
though
he’d
been
running.

“Brother!”
Nasir
said
and,
striving
to
sit
up,
briefly
grasped
Badr’s
arm
and
embraced
him
before
turning
to
Zahirah.

“We
must
call
a
majlis
!
Have
Talal
recognised
before
them
and
endorsed
by
them,
before
any
other
names
gather
enough
backing
to
challenge
him.”
Only
then
did
he
seem
to
see
the
armed
men
ranged
behind
his
older
brother,
but
beyond
casting
an
approving
glance
at
Daoud’s
state
of
readiness,
said
nothing,
as
he
sagged
back
onto
his
pallet.

Zahirah
nodded.
It
was
a
risk
that,
having
called
it,
they
could
lose
control
of
the
family
gathering,
but
without
it,
Talal’s
accession
would
be
merely
hollow
show.
“How
many
of
the
family
and
other
customary
members
are
available?”

“I’ve
sent
messages,
in
Lord
Nasir’s
name,
and
at
his
request,
to
all
family
members
who
were
not
in
the
town
or
with
him
on
the
recent
campaign,
and
so
may
not
know
what
has
happened,”
cut
in
Isaac,
his
genuine
grief
making
him
unusually
forceful.
“As
also
ordered,
I’ve
requested
that
they
return
urgently
and
gather
here.”

Badr,
taken
aback
at
the
speed
and
efficiency
of
their
organisation,
made
the
best
of
a
bad
job.
“Yes,
speed
is
vital
in
these
troubled
times
and
the
sooner
the
family
gathers
the
better.
Then
we
may
swiftly
do
what
is
right.”
he
ended
enigmatically.

Nasir
had
come
far
in
the
two
or
so
years
since,
as
an
impulsive
and
callow
youth,
he
had
lead
an
urgent
expedition
to
al
Hofuf.
He
neither
looked
at
Zahirah
nor
allowed
his
face
to
register
his
growing
unease
both
at
his
half-brother’s
words
and
the
armed
men
clustered
behind
him.
Neither
did
Zahirah,
long
skilled
in
hiding
any
of
her
thoughts,
let
her
face
show
anything
of
what
she
was
thinking.
This
was
as
well
for
family
relations
as
she
prepared,
should
it
become
necessary,
to
mentally
shift
Badr
from
the
column
marked
‘Friends
and
Rewards’
to
that
headed
‘Enemies
and
Death.’