Swords of Arabia: Betrayal (26 page)

Watching
him,
Nasir,
regretted
again
that
such
hours
were
few
for
the
boy,
and
cursed
again
the
fate
that
had
taken
his
father,
ensuring
his
son’s
childhood
would
rarely
be
entirely
carefree.

Shortly
before
mid-day,
the
party
reached
the
encampment
set
up
earlier
by
their
servants
and,
dismounting,
gratefully
plunged
into
the
cool
shadows
of
the
large
awnings
erected
in
front
of
the
tents.
There
they
ate
heartily
of
the
meal
of
dates,
goat’s
cheese
and
the
hot,
cooked
meat
of
some
of
their
prey
taken
earlier
that
morning.
Spirits
were
high,
even
amongst
those
whose
birds
had
yet
to
make
a
kill.
All
joined
in
the
laughter
and
friendly
banter
as
the
whole
party,
their
birds
safely
tethered
to
their
blocks,
or
stands,
their
hoods
firmly
in
place,
relaxed
and
whiled
away
the
hot
midday
hours
under
the
awnings
of
the
tents.
Only
the
guards,
who
ringed
the
encampment,
were
alert
and
vigilant.

In
honour
of
their
visitors,
the
Narashi
princes
had
provided
not
the
usual
workmanlike
tents
in
everyday
use,
but
richly
decorated
ones,
with
lavish
interior
hangings.
They
had
been
commissioned
many
years
previously
by
Firyal,
to
the
fury
of
the
town’s
more
puritanical
inhabitants,
which
she
ignored.
She
was
well
aware
of
the
value
of
display.
She
was
still
proud
of
the
beautiful
tents
and
it
was
only
with
the
strictest
of
warnings
as
to
their
being
well
looked
after
that
she’d
agreed
to
their
being
used.

“Though
why
I
give
any
belief
at
all
to
the
promises
of
rough
and
ready
men
to
be
civilised,
I
am
at
a
loss
to
know!”
she
smiled
as
she
arranged
their
packing
for
the
journey.

“You
realise
it
was
no
idle
suggestion
about
the
hunting
party
from
our
general?”
Kerim,
said
eventually
to
Nasir,
his
open,
honest
features
troubled,
after
they’d
eaten
and
they’d
walked
a
short
distance
from
the
tents.

Nasir
nodded,
“I
supposed
as
much.
It
was
to
talk
to
me
about
your
embassy, am
I
right?”
he
queried,
as
he
watched
without
comment
the
guards
that the
ever
vigilant
Nawwaf
had
sent,
take
up
positions
on
some
of
the
small
hills
and
rocky
outcrops
overlooking
the
spot
where
they’d
stopped
to
talk.

“Indeed
you
are.
They
know
about
our
meeting
in
al
Hofuf
and
that
we
formed
a
bond
there,
and,
I
hope,
became
friends.”

“And
they
hope
you
will
influence
me
in
our
soon
to
be
made
decision?”

“Yes,
but
I
won’t
try
Nasir,
even
if
I
thought
I
could
influence
you,
and
have
told
them
so.
That
would
be
to
transgress
what
I
feel
is
our
friendship,”
responded
Kerim
frankly.

“I
appreciate
that
Kerim
and,
yes,
I
too
feel
we
are
friends,
firm
friends,
but
in
all
honesty
you
would
be
wasting
your
time.
I
am
only
one
of
the
two
regents
and
with
less
influence
than
Badr.
Not
to
mention
others
in
the
palace
who
will
also
be
able
to
influence
the
final
decision
much
better
than
I,”
he
replied,
equally
frankly.

Kerim
shook
his
head.
“I
think
you
underestimate
your
standing,
Nasir.
Also
the
trust
some
of
those
others
hold
you
in.”
Seeing
his
friend’s
enquiring
look,
he
continued.
“The
trust
is
clear,
even
with
us
today.
Do
you
think
the
Lady
Zahirah
would
allow
her
son
out
of
the
palace
with
you,
if
she
didn’t
hold
you
in
the
greatest
regard?”
he
asked
bluntly.

“Possibly,”
conceded
Nasir.
“That
doesn’t
mean
she,
or
anyone
else,
would
listen
to
my
views
on
such
high
matters
as
our
future
alliances.
I
am
a
regent
as
a
counterweight
to
Badr,
because
the
pro-Talal
faction,
and
others,
wanted,
needed,
someone
they
could
trust
as
one
of
the
boy’s
guardians;
someone
strong
enough
on
the
fields
of
war
and
elsewhere
to
protect
him.”

“Perhaps
they
wouldn’t
ordinarily
consider
your
views
about
alliances
and
external
matters,
though
I’m
less
certain
than
you,”
countered
his
friend.
“Don’t
forget,
though,
that
you
are
one
of
the
few
with
direct
experience
of
our
Ottoman
army.
Alas
in
painful
circumstances,
I
must
admit.”