Swords of Arabia: Betrayal (33 page)

“And
the
reason
for
this
change
of
heart?”
asked
Badr,
his
face
bland,
as
he
smiled
inwardly
thinking
he
knew
the
answer.
After
all,
total
war
being
waged
in
the
region
by
its
two
greatest
powers
was
reason
enough,
particularly
when
those
they
were
meeting
with
were
coming
off
the
worse.

“Because
of
the
late
Emir
Fouad’s
heroic
act
at
Jarrab,”
was
the
reply,
stunning
the
Narashi
into
silence.
Indeed,
it
was
only
years
of
ferocious
self-discipline
that
stopped
their
jaws
dropping.
“Oh,
of
course,
the
current
situation
would – will
–
bring
changes
in
some
of
our
alliances.
The
Narashi
one,
however,
was
not
one
we
thought
achievable,
until
we
heard
of
your
father’s
brave
attempt
to
save
the
life
of
our
colleague
–
and
my
friend
–
Captain
Shakespear,”
the
man
added,
the
pain
in
his
voice
clear
testimony
of
his
loss.

Badr
and
Nasir
both
fought
to
keep
their
faces
expressionless.
Both
had
been
at
Jarrab
and
both
had
witnessed
the
event
referred
to.
They
also
had
a
very
different
interpretation
of
their
brother’s
actions,
one
that
they
felt
was
not
only
certainly
more
accurate
than
their
hosts,
but
also
one
that
would
be
distinctly
unwise
to
share
with
them.

“Does
this
mean
that
you
are
reconsidering
your
refusal
of
my
brother’s
several
letters
to
you
on
this
matter?
My
dead
brother,”
Nasir
added,
genuine
anger,
banked
down,
making
his
voice
flat
and
cold,
as
he
made
it
entirely
clear
that
he
also
blamed
the
British
slowness
for
Fouad’s
death.

“We
are
certainly
prepared
to
talk
further
about
it,”
a
younger
man
started
to
say,
slightly
patronisingly,
until
quieted
by
a
sharp
glance
from
his
superior.

“If
we
receive
an
indication
from
yourselves
that
you
would
be
interested
in
talking
further,
we
would
be
honoured
and
happy
to
enter
into
more
detailed
discussions,
with
our
discretion
assured,
naturally.
We
recognise
that
even
our
talking
to
each
other
places
Narash
at
some
risk
“

“Not
to
mention
our
lives!”
responded
Badr
with
a
short
laugh.
He
had
no
wish
for
an
alliance
with
the
British.
Besides
sharing
Isaac’s
dislike
of
their
high-handedness,
he
had
particularly
close
links
with
the
Ottoman
and
had
no
wish
to
have
them
disturbed.
That
said,
he
was
too
much
of
a
negotiator
not
to
realise
that
even
the
hint
of
their
talking
to
their
enemy
would,
despite
the
danger,
add
immeasurably
to
their
bargaining
position
with
the
Turkish
representatives
in
the
future
days
when
they
returned
to
continue
their
discussions.
That
the
whole
process
would
be
measured
in
only
days,
or
at
most,
a
few
short
weeks,
he
had
no
doubt.
All
parties
wanted
a
swift
decision
one
way
or
the
other.
Time,
in
war,
was
not
necessarily
as
plentiful
as
one
would
wish,
he
thought
ruefully.

Talal
itched
to
tell
the
delegation
that
they
were
too
late.
With
his
father
dead,
he
wished
no
more
truck
with
their
mighty
empire
or
its
smooth
talking
representatives.
He
remained
silent,
however.
His
youthful
fury
was
already
being
tempered
by
the
rigours
of
ruling
and
he
knew
that
the
British
were
too
powerful
to
dismiss
lightly.
Nothing
showed
on
his
face
as
he
stared
back
at
the
British
delegation,
his
slight
frame
relaxed
and
his
clear
black
eyes
carefully
free
from
any
expression.
He
knew,
however,
with
absolute
certainty
that,
whether
or
not
the
future
saw
them
formally
together
in
an
alliance,
he
would
never
forget,
nor
forgive,
their
part
in
his
father’s
death.

“We
risk
much
if
we
move
away
from
the
side
of
the
Ottoman,”
Nasir
said,
nothing
in
his
voice
giving
away
the
fact
that
he
thought
the
Ottoman
ability
to
protect
themselves,
let
alone
their
allies,
was
far
from
proven.

“Yes,
His
Majesty’s
Government
recognises
that
and
hopes
that
they
may
in
some
way
be
able
to
replace
the
protection
you
lose
from
the
Turkish
Sultan.
Any
such
decision
is,
of
course,
entirely
Narash’s
to
make,
but
events
are
moving
swiftly
so
we
feel
a
speedy
decision
is
needed,”
the
British
emissary
added
quietly,
deliberately
increasing
the
pressure
on
the
Narashi
representatives.