Swords of Arabia: Betrayal (2 page)

“Nawwaf?”
Nasir
felt
a
wave
of
relief
at
hearing
his
friend’s
name.

“Yes.
I
thought
he’d
forsaken
us
and
rode
with
the
others
when
they
chased
ibn
Saud,
but
it
appears
he
was
trying
to
get
many
to
turn
back,”
she
replied.
“He
left
some
men
to
bury
our
dead
and
raced
to
join
us
when
your
messenger
reached
him.”
Despite
their
desperate
situation
she
managed
a
small
smile
of
genuine
pleasure.
“He
brought
some
good
tidings
with
him
–
Mamduh
is
still
alive!”

“Our
uncle?
But
I
saw
him
fall!”
exclaimed
Nasir,
his
voice,
though
weak,
clearly
carrying
the
joy
he
felt.

“Yes,
but
he
was
only
wounded
–
badly,
very
badly
–
but
he’s
alive.
Nawwaf
arranged
a
strong
escort
and
he’s
being
taken
directly
back
to
the
coast.”

Thanks be to Allah
!
Nasir thought.
To
lose
Mamduh
would
have
been
a
heavy
personal
blow,
as
he
had
always
been
close
to
his
fierce,
plain-speaking
uncle.
More
crucially,
however,
his
loss
would
have
been
a
grave
weakening
of
his
great-nephew
Talal’s
position
in
the
coming
struggle
for
power.

“He
then
raced
here
–
fortunately
–
and
so
far
we
have
kept
all
together,”
Zahirah
finished.

“You
and
he
have
done
well,”
agreed
Nasir,
“but
trying
to
hold
the
column
together
with
many
unwilling
riders
will
slow
us
down,
dangerously
so,
Zahirah.”

“I
know,
but
we have
little
choice
but
to
hold
all
together
if
we
are
to
arrive
back
before
anyone
knows
what’s
happened.”

“I
must
speak
to
the
men:
lead
them,”
he
said
struggling
to
rise.

“Nasir!
You
can’t!
You’re
too
badly
injured!”

“And
if
I
don’t,
Zahirah,
we
will
lose
many
men;
some
of
whom
will
dash
headlong
to
Narash
–
and
you
will
lose
the
race
to
claim
the
throne
for
your
son,”
he
responded
bluntly.

She
bit
her
lip,
and
didn’t
reply.
She
knew
he
was
right;
the
warriors
were
already
getting
restless
at
being
led
by
her;
soon
the
column
would
fragment.

“You
are
right
–
thank
you,”
she
said,
after
a
moment.

“I
will
tighten
the
bandages,
Lady, to
give
him
some
support,”
Ayesha,
the
attendant
said,
as
she
reached
for
more
cloths.

Zahirah
nodded.
“We
will
have
a
brief
halt,
while
you
do
that.
Then,
Nasir,”
she
flashed,
“you
can
rise
from
your
bed
and
cow
those
jackals
who
would
dare
to
challenge
me!”
So
saying,
she
had
her
mount
raced
back
to
the
head
of
the
column.

Even
the
camels
were
tiring,
so
swift
had
been
their
passage.
Beast,
therefore,
was
as
willing
as
rider
for
the
short
pause
in
a
hollow
amongst
some
small
hills.
All
were
equally
glad
of
both
the
respite
from
their
gruelling
pace
and
the
small
amount
of
shade
offered
by
a
few
scattered
clumps
of
thorny
shrubs.
Few
had
questioned
the
reason
for
the
halt,
so
there
were
many
gasps
of
surprise
as
Nasir
rode
into
view,
having
timed
his
appearance
carefully
for
maximum
impact.
His
horse
walked
slowly,
carefully
picking
its
way
amongst
the
broken
rocks
littering
the
ground.

The
young
sheikh
held
himself
erect,
for
the
moment,
having
no
need
for
the
support
of
Nawwaf,
who
rode
closely
beside
him.
He
stayed
mounted,
as
much
because
he
had
neither
the
strength
nor
dexterity
to
do
otherwise,
as
to
ensure
he
was
visible
to
all.
He
looked
slowly
round
the
warriors,
all
now
gathering
around
him.
It
was
working,
as
he’d
known
it
would.
The
joy
and
relief
he
saw
on
many
of
the
upturned
faces,
turning
from
uncertainty
or
downright
hostility
as
they
saw
him
ride
slowly
into
view,
told
him
that
they
had
had
little
time
left
before
Zahirah
had
faced
serious
unrest,
if
not
outright
rebellion.
He
knew
it
was
only
the
force
of
her
personality
and
reputation
that
had
kept
the
column
of
fighting
men
from
fragmenting
sooner into
squabbling
groups.
Nawwaf,
for
all
his
reputation
as
a
fighter
and
a
leader
–
in
normal
times
more
than
enough
for
warriors
to
follow
him,
and
follow
gladly
–
wasn’t
of
the
ruling
house.
With
all
that
had
happened,
it
was
a
prince
of
that
house
that the
men
needed
to
see
and
to
follow.