Swords of Arabia: Betrayal Read Online Free Page B

Abdullah must open it; anything else would be unthinkable!” he added smoothly.
    Ay! The boy has certainly become the man! thought Zahirah, caught between gratitude for his quick thinking and... Something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, not yet; something that had first taken root when she’d observed his icy coolness, despite his wounds, on the race back to Narash.
    That it had caught Badr off guard also, was seen only by the briefest of pauses before he nodded reluctant agreement. He had little option once the name had been voiced. Abdullah, their great-uncle, was the eldest surviving sheikh of their family, and to deny him his place at the majlis would, now his name had been broached, be an insult of the highest order.
    Gracefully taking their leave of Badr, who turned and left the chamber to join his men, Zahirah and Firyal, seeing that Nasir had lapsed again into semi-consciousness, left him to the care of Nawwaf and Ayesha. Before she left, Firyal handed the girl a small glass jar that she’d had brought from her private rooms.
    “See that Lord Nasir is given this when he next regains consciousness. It will help him over the next few days.” She gave the girl quiet instructions on dosage and left the room with Zahirah.
    “It is a potion which will give him strength and clearness of mind for the coming days. It will come at a price, however,” she cautioned. “He will feel its less pleasant effects for many weeks, but will, in time, Allah willing, get rid of it from his body.” Zahirah nodded in gratitude. Nasir’s spirit she didn’t doubt, but his physical weakness was causing her concern. Without him, she knew, they were dangerously, perhaps fatally, weakened.
    Refusing to be separated from the children – for she knew that to hear of how rule is achieved and kept could do nothing but help them – she let them cluster around her feet as she, her mother-in-law, and Isaac, reluctantly taken from Nasir’s bedside, urgently discussed their next steps. They were all keenly aware that they needed not only to survive the next few hours, but also to make sure that time worked for them and not those opposed to Talal’s succession. To achieve both aims would require all their skills, and all those skills would need to be used as never before.

 
    Chapter Four
     
    The men, dirty and bedraggled, their beards wild, unkempt and lice-ridden, were brought, in some fear, into the Great Chamber and were halted some yards short of the dais where Talal sat. He was flanked by Nasir, who was propped up against many cushions, pale and obviously weak, despite Firyal’s medicine. Just below the dais stood Isaac ben Ishmail. Like Nasir’s, his pale features were closed and impossible to read. The little group of men stopped suddenly as they saw who was in the room. Talal himself rose and reached out a hand in greeting. “Uncles, cousins, I welcome you.” He courteously gestured for them to sit on one of the brightly coloured cushions placed in front of the dais.
    All four looked down uncertainly, unsure how to sit with any degree of dignity with the chains at their wrists and ankles. At a gesture from Nasir, the guards moved forward and carefully helped each figure to sit facing Talal. Then, his part done and after gesturing quietly for refreshments to be offered to his imprisoned kin, he sat gazing silently down on them, an expression on his boyish face of frank and friendly interest.
    The prisoners, fed only on near-starvation rations since their incarceration, fought back the almost overwhelming urge to devour the food and drink like animals at the trough. Instead, with a dignity that impressed those watching, they ate and drank little, before waving away the rest of the still yearned for food and drink.
    Nasir, breaking the silence, then greeted the men of his family. They were men he’d not seen since Fouad had had them thrown into prison more than two years previously, suspected of involvement