Princess Sultana's Circle (3 page)

The memory of our shared
traumatic experience slammed down between us. In disbelief, I
stared into my sister’s eyes.

“
No, No,” was all that I
could utter.

“
Who
is
this Hadi?” Maha demanded.

Who, indeed? Where was I to
begin?

I mumbled. “He’s Ali’s
friend from childhood, Daughter. You do not know of
him.”

Sara settled closer to me
as her hands sought mine. We continued to gaze into each other’s
eyes. Our thoughts were in unison. Sara was reliving the most
traumatic time of her life.

More than twenty years
before, against her will, Sara had been wed to a much older man, a
man who had sexually abused her from the first moment of their
union. It was only after Sara’s attempted suicide that our mother
had managed to convince our father into allowing Sara to divorce.
Despite her return to our family home, my dear sister had been
unable to shake off a chronic and debilitating
depression.

During this same period of
time, our eldest sister Nura and her husband Ahmed were in the
process of building a new palace. Nura planned to travel to Italy
to purchase furnishings for this home, and along the way, visit
Cairo.

Much to my surprise and
delight, Nura and Ahmed invited both Sara and me to accompany them
and their children on the trip. Every coin has two sides, and my
happiness was soon tempered when father decided that my brother,
Ali, and his friend, Hadi, would also be a part of our entourage.
That distressing news was dispiriting, nevertheless, we went along
on the trip.

While we were in Cairo,
Sara and I were astounded to discover that our brother’s friend was
even more obnoxious than Ali! Neither of us had imagined that such
a thing was possible! We soon learned that in comparison to the
spoiled and difficult Ali, Hadi was pure evil.

Although a student at the
Religious Institute, which was a boys’ school in Riyadh for
training Mutawwas, or men of religion, Hadi had absorbed none of
the goodness called for in our Holy Koran. His black soul remained
untouched by his religious education.

Hadi hated women with a
purposeful vengeance, and often expressed his opinion that all
young girls should be wed at the first sign of their menses. In
Hadi’s mind, women were on this earth for three purposes: to
provide for a man’s sexual pleasure, to serve a man, and to bear a
man’s children.

Of course, Hadi thought
that Sara and I were uncontrollable females, and often said so. If
he had been the master of our destinies, Sara and I were convinced
that we would have been stoned to death, and that Hadi would have
been there to throw the first stone!

Despite his expressed
hatred of the female gender, Hadi was keen to have sex with as many
different women as possible. And on that trip to Cairo and Italy,
he had done just that. Most disturbing of all, Ali had joined Hadi
in his perverse behavior! While in Cairo, Sara and I had
inadvertently come upon Hadi and Ali sexually assaulting a girl who
was no more than eight years old! The scene had been one of horror
and violence, and neither Sara nor I had ever overcome the haunting
images of what we saw that day.

Certain that such an evil
boy would have grown into an evil man, we were now filled with
panic at the thought that such a person would soon have absolute
control over a dear and sweet child unprepared to defend
herself.

Sobbing, I fell into Sara’s
arms. Our tears were so contagious that our daughters began sobbing
with us.

The sound of our anguished
cries evidently reached Kareem’s office, for he and Abdullah soon
came rushing into the room.

Full of concern, Kareem
pulled me away from my sister. “Sultana! Sara! Whatever has
happened?”

And Abdullah demanded of
his sister Maha, “Who has died?”

I stammered through my
wails, “Death would be better!”

Kareem was becoming
increasingly alarmed. “What? What?”

Maha spoke up. “It’s about
cousin Munira, Father. Uncle Ali has arranged her
marriage.”

Even Kareem was sobered by
that news. Every member of our extended family knew of Munira’s
repulsion for men and marriage.

Unlike many Saudi males, my
husband was not a man who believed in force when it came to
marriage. Kareem and I had agreed many years before that our
daughters should be educated before marriage and that, when the
time came for them to be wed, they would have the right to choose
their own husbands. Never would Maha nor Amani have to face
Munira’s grim situation. Indeed, our religion forbids the forcing
of females in a union not of their liking, but like so many things,
much that is good in our Islamic faith is misinterpreted or simply
ignored.

“
Who is she to wed?” Kareem
asked loudly to make himself heard over the sounds of sobbing
women.

“
You will never believe
it,” I sighed.

“
It is a great disaster,”
Sara added, dabbing at the tears flowing down her
cheeks.

“
Tell me, who?”

I gazed up at Kareem with
sorrow. “Ali is going to wed his daughter to an old
friend.”

“
Old
in
years
?”
Kareem questioned with a grimace.

“
Two
ways
old
,”
I said, “An old friend, who is old!”

An exasperated Kareem said,
“Please, Sultana! Don’t make me guess.”

Sara could sit still no
longer. She rose to her feet, wailing. “It’s
Hadi
…Ali’s friend from many years
ago.
The detested Hadi
!”

My husband’s face turned
white. His eyes grew fierce. His voice was disbelieving. “Hadi,
from the Egyptian trip?”

“
That very Hadi!
”

“
Oh! This will never do.”
Kareem looked at his son. “Abdullah, I must speak with Ali at once.
We’ll reschedule our morning meeting.”

Abdullah nodded
solemnly.

While Ali was a friend of
Hadi’s, none of Ali’s brothers-in-law claimed a relationship with
the man. He was so thoroughly disliked that everyone kept a
distance from him, except Ali. Only Ali was able to find admirable
qualities in Hadi. He was certainly not a part of our small coterie
of close relatives and friends.

Although schooled as a man
of religion, Hadi now made his living working for the Saudi
government. As a friend of a high ranking Prince, he had maneuvered
himself in a perfect position to become fabulously
wealthy.

Due to his excellent
financial prospects, those who did not know his wicked disposition
might consider him an eligible and desirable husband. But two of my
sisters-in-law were acquainted with Hadi’s three wives, and they
had heard that his evil nature had grown rather than lessened. It
was enough to know that Hadi was secretly named “Satan’s most
favored son,” by the women he had wed.

With Kareem’s words I felt
a small flicker of hope. While I knew that the sisters of Ali could
never have the slightest influence on him, if the men of our family
took action, perhaps poor Munira could be saved from a destiny she
surely would consider worse than instantaneous death.

“
When will you see
Ali?”

“
Tomorrow.”

“
Asad will go with you,”
Sara promised. “And, I’ll telephone Nura. Perhaps Ahmed will go
with you, too. This marriage must be stopped!”

With such plans under way,
I felt somewhat relieved.

Kareem and I were so
physically and emotionally exhausted by this family drama that we
slept that night without our usual loving embrace.

Early the next morning, I
lay in bed while Kareem took his morning shower, wondering what the
day might bring. Since I feared that Kareem might forget to tell me
some important points in his talk with my brother, I was trying to
think of a way that I might listen in to their
conversation.

When Kareem went into the
adjoining sitting room to telephone my brother, I slipped the
receiver from the phone by the bed and listened in on their call. I
heard them agree to meet at the palace of Tammam, where Ali was
taking Kareem’s call. Obviously, Ali had spent the previous evening
with his first wife.

I rushed into Maha’s room
and said, “Dress quickly! We are going to visit your Auntie Tammam
and Munira. They need us.”

When I told Kareem that
Maha and I were leaving to visit Tammam and Munira, I saw a line of
worry crease his forehead.

“
Sultana, if you and Maha
wish to visit Tammam and Munira, I will not stop you. But, take
care and promise that you will not intrude on my meeting with your
brother.”

Full of innocence, I gave
my word that I would not disrupt their talk. But Kareem did not
request that I promise not to listen in on them.

Tammam was not expecting
us, but she seemed pleased to have visitors and was very gracious.
After greeting her Auntie, Maha went directly to the room of her
cousin, Munira.

Prior to Kareem’s arrival,
I convinced Tammam that it was in our best interest to sit quietly
in the banquet hall adjacent to Ali’s sitting room. “We might be
summoned,” I told her.

As soon as we entered the
large room, I began to rummage through the contents of my large
handbag.

I had learned many years
ago that to request permission for whatever unconventional action I
might take would open the door for a negative response. Therefore,
I now simply act and let others react.

Tammam’s jaw dropped but
she was too timid to protest when I took an electronic device out
of my purse and inserted the small listening aid into my right ear.
I smiled at the astonished Tammam, and said, “Who knows what men
are plotting against good women?”

I had purchased this device
several years before at a specialty shop in New York City which
stocked an amazing variety of spying devices, after seeing their
advertisement in a hotel guest information book. At that time in my
life, it had been of the utmost importance to closely follow the
secret activities of Amani. Fearing she might bring harm to herself
through her extreme religious fervor, I had felt compelled to spy
on my youngest child. But I soon became bored with her endless
conversations regarding detailed aspects of our religious faith,
and I had put away the listening device. However, earlier that
morning, before leaving for Ali’s house, I had remembered the
contraption, and had come prepared to eavesdrop on the all-powerful
men who ruled our lives.

I fiddled with the gadget
for a few moments. Past experience had shown me that, even if the
mechanism did not work perfectly, it did greatly amplify voices
coming from adjoining rooms.

I gave Tammam a reassuring
smile, but I could see that she was fearful. My sister-in-law sat
like one stricken dumb, her hands cupped over her mouth.

Unintentionally, I had
placed the volume level to its highest point, so when in the next
room Kareem, Asad, and Ahmed loudly greeted Ali, my feet left the
floor, throwing my body against the wall.

Tammam gave a small shriek
of alarm.

After I had gathered my
wits, I held my finger to my lips. Thankfully, the men’s prolonged
greetings were so boisterous that they had heard nothing amiss. I
smiled as I listened. I had always taken the greatest secret
pleasure in listening to forbidden conversations.

The four men spent long,
silent moments preparing their tea to their liking. When they
finally did speak, their conversation dwelt on unimportant matters.
After everyone’s health was assured, there was talk of various
business matters. Their talk lingered for a long time on the
declining health of the King. Uncle Fahd is my own immediate
family’s leader of choice, and there is great dread of the day he
will no longer rule.

I was getting impatient
when Ahmed finally approached the subject that had really brought
them together.

“
Ali, we hear news that
Munira is to be married.”

There was a short pause.
Then Ali rang a bell for one of his servants to go and fetch some
freshly baked pastries to accompany his tea.

I presumed that my brother
was playing for time to deliberate his response to such an
unexpected question. Still, it is true that my brother does eat to
excess. Much to my amusement, he was getting wider by the
year.

The listening device was
functioning so efficiently that I soon heard the smacking of Ali’s
full lips as he devoured one honey-laced pastry after another. The
other men sat in silence.

Finally, his appetite
satiated, Ali was ready to respond to Ahmed’s question. “Yes. You
are correct, Ahmed. Munira is at the age to be wed. And, I have
found a good match.” He hesitated before adding, “Surely, Tammam
has notified my sisters of the date for the wedding
celebration.”

Kareem cleared his throat,
then begin speaking tentatively. “Ali, consider us as your
brothers. And, as brothers, we are here to support you in whatever
decisions you might make—on any matter.”