by Andie Brock
They had been travelling for most of the day, Zayed rattling this six-wheeled SUV at considerable speed along the mile-wide dried-up riverbeds, following tracks around the base of the towering sandstone cliffs or negotiating a route through the psychedelic patterns of the shifting sand dunes.
The conversation had been sparse, painful even. If Nadia had hoped that this momentous thing they were doing, this shared adventure, would forge a bond between them, kindle some intimacy between them, she had been sadly disappointed. She longed to talk to him, to be able to discuss everything that was going around in her head, that she was sure was going around in his head too.
But her earlier attempts to get him to open up had failed miserably, his harsh profile making it clear that he was concentrating on the driving, that her questions and speculations were nothing but an irritating distraction. A water bottle passed between them was as intimate as it had gotten.
So instead she had lost herself in her thoughts, gazing out of the window at the awesome vastness of the desert, clinging on to her seat as the vehicle had leaped and bumped over the inhospitable terrain, occasionally distracted by the odd camel train that would appear through the clouds of dust they were throwing up. Confirmation, at least, that they weren’t the only living creatures in this wilderness.
Nadia could still hardly believe what they were doing. True to his word, Azeed had succeeded in setting up a meeting at the palace of Harith, but it was with her brother, Imran, rather than with her father. Imran had made it quite clear that the sheikh, who was away on business, was to know nothing about it. That he would never have agreed to allow them into the country, let alone meet with them.
Now they were actually here in the kingdom of Harith, albeit several hours’ drive away from the palace she had grown up in. They were going to spend tonight with Azeed at his encampment before setting off to meet with her brother tomorrow.
Nadia’s emotions had been seesawing up and down ever since Zayed had told her of the plans. Initially euphoric that her subterfuge had worked, she had then braced herself for a fight, convinced that Zayed would say he was going alone, that she had to stay in Gazbiyaa. But to her excitement and surprise he had curtly informed her that she would be accompanying him. More than that, she would sit beside him at the meeting as his wife, the sheikha of Gazbiyaa. Because he intended to tell her family the truth. It was time to get everything out in the open.
Secretly the thought terrified her. Numbed her to the core with its daring. But something about Zayed’s calm authority had steadied her nerve, made her put her trust in him. It was clear that he had made up his mind, that nothing would sway him. So Nadia had embraced his decision without any argument, hiding her fear behind genuine eagerness and enthusiasm. Finally they were in this together.
With a wide spray of sand the car skidded to a halt in front of the collection of tents and Zayed jumped out, stretching back his shoulders and looking around him.
A tall, upright man emerged from the largest tent. Nadia held her breath, fascinated as she peered through the sand-speckled window of the car at the meeting of the two handsome brothers.
For a moment they stared at one another, both standing tall and proud, only a few small yards apart in distance but an ocean of mistrust and uncertainty born of their father’s mistakes still separating them. Nadia watched, her heart in her throat, as Zayed, chest back and head high, held out his hand to his brother. An inexplicable stab of pride pierced her heart at the sight of this noble gesture. Silently she found herself willing, praying that Azeed would accept the handshake of reconciliation.
But she needn’t have worried. For not only did Azeed take his brother’s hand, but he gripped it in both of his and then the two of them were embracing, their arms locked around each other’s shoulders, their hands splayed across each other’s backs. Nadia hurriedly brushed away the tear that was sliding down her dusty cheek.
The brothers pulled apart and both looked in her direction, Zayed striding over to open the door and help Nadia out.
‘Azeed, please allow me to introduce my wife, Nadia. Nadia, my brother, Azeed.’
The formal introduction seemed somehow fitting, as the three of them stood solemnly in the orange glow of the desert sunset. My wife. For a second Nadia let herself hold those words to her heart. Here, away from the palace, she was not the pampered, protected sheikha—she was just Zayed’s wife. And it felt right, true. Except of course it wasn’t. She was a wife in name only, to be dispensed with as soon as it was safe to do so. A fact that she had to brutally remind herself of.
‘I am delighted to meet you.’ Azeed took her hand and bowed his head. Wearing the traditional white dishdasha and keffiyeh headdress, he seemed very much at home in the beautiful but bleak wilderness of this desert. ‘Welcome to my humble dwelling.’ As he raised his eyes to hers Nadia was struck by the similarity between the two brothers, but Azeed’s features were harder, sharper, more bleak. ‘I’m sure you must be very tired and hungry after your long journey. If you would like to use the washing facilities, a meal will be ready for you shortly.’
Humble it might have been, but the small encampment had everything needed for a comfortable life in the desert. From what Nadia could make out there appeared to be four tents: a small one for ablutions, two others, presumably for the servants or sleeping quarters, and then the larger one, where Zayed and Azeed were now waiting for her.
But first she took a moment to look around her, to drink in the incredible scene. She could well see why Azeed had walked away from his complicated life in favour of this. The last of the light was disappearing behind the dunes, picking up the sparse patches of scrubby vegetation and rewarding them with long, long shadows across the rusty, orange, golden glow of the vast expanse of the wadi. And above them a billion stars were bursting through the sky.
Zayed and Azeed were seated on rugs outside the main tent, now festooned with flickering candles, talking quietly, but as she approached they both stopped and got to their feet.
‘Come and join us.’ Azeed moved to one side so that Nadia could sit on one of the cushions between them. ‘Let’s eat.’ He gestured to the array of dishes spread out on the mat in front of them and passed around plates. ‘We have much to discuss, but first you need sustenance.’
Cautiously accepting Zayed’s hand, Nadia sat down, doing her best to ignore the jolt of awareness from his touch. But seated on the tribal rugs between these two strong, dark men, she began to relax. She hadn’t known how Azeed would accept her, panicking when Zayed had told her he had shared their secret with him, that she was formally Princess Nadia of Harith. But Azeed appeared to bear her no ill will and the relief was palpable that, for once, she didn’t have to pretend to be someone else.
As the night wore on the conversation flowed surprisingly easily. The food was delicious, too, and eating it the traditional way with their hands only made it taste better. Sensing that there was a lot of unfinished business between the two brothers, Nadia sat back and let them talk to each other without interruption from her. It was so good to see them communicating, getting to know each other, the changed people they had become. Especially as she had been the one to bring about this meeting, even if it had been a bit underhanded.
She was surprised, and silently thrilled, how openly Azeed was prepared to confide in his brother. And when Zayed told him about their mother’s dying wish, describing how she had asked him to explain to Azeed just why she had spoken out and to be sure to tell him that she had always loved him like a son, he was visibly touched.
In a softly spoken voice Azeed freely admitted that he was no longer the same man he had been. The ruthless heir apparent who would have stopped at nothing to further the expansion of his kingdom had gone, along with the embittered son who had wanted vengeance on his deceitful father. And he stressed that he no longer felt any resentment for the brother who had ‘stolen’ his crown.
‘You do believe me when I say that, Zayed?’ He fixed his brother with
a penetrating stare. ‘I want you to know that I bear you no ill will.’
‘Of course I believe you,’ Zayed replied solemnly. ‘And I thank you for your honesty and for your tolerance.’
‘No.’ Deeply serious now, Azeed continued, ‘It is I who should be thanking you. I have had a lot of time to think recently, and I see now that I was never the right person to rule Gazbiyaa. You are far better equipped for that role. I was so consumed with turning the kingdom into a global superpower that I was in danger of threatening its stability, even leading its young men into war. Believe it or not, I am grateful to have had that burden lifted from me. And very thankful that the future of Gazbiyaa is now in your capable hands.’
‘Then, why not come back? You might not be the sheikh, but your help would be invaluable to me.’
‘No.’ Azeed slowly shook his head. ‘I have my freedom now, Zayed, something I have never had before. The freedom that was once yours has been handed over to me. I see that now and I intend to use it wisely.’
‘Then, make sure that you do.’ Reaching across, Zayed laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘As my friends and I used to say, memento vivere—remember to live!’
‘Memento vivere...’ Azeed repeated. ‘I will embrace your motto!’
The meal now finished, Azeed turned to Nadia, shadows hollowing his cheeks. ‘And you, Nadia, I hope you forgive me for not attending your wedding. I’m afraid I was in a dark place then.’
‘Of course.’ Nadia used the excuse of washing her hand in the finger bowl to avoid Azeed’s direct gaze. It had been a long day, followed by the high emotions of the evening, and she could feel a lump growing in her throat with Azeed’s heartfelt words. ‘You don’t need to apologise. You have had so much to contend with.’
‘As indeed we all have.’ He glanced back at Zayed. ‘But now I am so glad we are looking to the future. I think we should make a toast.’
Clapping his hands, he summoned two smiling servants who quickly cleared away the food, returning with a final tray of drinks before disappearing back into the black of the night.
Nadia watched as Azeed poured water into the three glasses, the clear liquid turning cloudy. ‘Nadia, you will have a glass of arrack?’
‘Um...’ Nadia hesitated. She didn’t actually drink alcohol, had never had so much as a sip when Zayed had a glass of wine with their evening meal. But she so much wanted to be a part of this toast, part of this team, the three of them out here under the stars, preparing for the challenge of tomorrow.
‘Thank you, I think I will.’
She watched Zayed’s eyes narrow as she reached forward to take the glass, and that made her all the more determined. It wasn’t up to him to tell her what she could do.
‘To the future and to peace.’ They all clinked their glasses and Nadia took a defiant swallow. Mmm, yummy... Warm and aniseedy— In fact, more than warm—burning as it scorched down her throat and temporarily stole her breath away. Perhaps she’d be a bit more cautious with the next sip.
‘And to Nadia and Zayed.’ Azeed raised his glass again. ‘To a long and very happy marriage.’
Their glasses clinked again, but this time they had a hollow ring. As Nadia met her husband’s dark eyes something passed between them, something intense, meaningful, sad.
Ignoring her own advice, she hastily took another swallow of alcohol, leaving her gulping and gasping for air, her eyelids batting against her watering eyes. Zayed continued to stare at her, merely tipping his head slightly to one side, raising his eyebrows just a fraction before finally turning back to his brother.
‘How long to reach the Amani palace tomorrow, would you say?’
‘If you leave at dawn tomorrow you should be there by noon. Especially in that beast of a vehicle of yours, Zayed.’ Azeed nodded his head towards the black night where the six-by-six was stabled alongside the two Arab stallions and several camels.
‘Yeah, I have to say it does fly over the dunes.’
Nadia watched the two of them over the rim of her glass before trying another delicate sip. She rather liked this drink now she had gotten the hang of it. And she loved to see the relationship building between these two men.
‘And you are sure you don’t want me to come with you, Zayed? You know that I would be willing. Although I am afraid I would be able to offer you no protection. My dubious birthright and the fact that I live here in Harith were enough to set up a meeting with Imran Amani, but that will not guarantee your safety.’
‘I understand. And I greatly appreciate all that you have done for me. But from now on this is down to me.’ The determination in Zayed’s voice left no room for argument.
‘But you will have some security with you? In case something goes wrong?’
‘Yes. I’ve got a small undercover team there already, checking things out, plus a couple of bodyguards if we need them. But I’m hoping we won’t. I have to protect Nadia, obviously, but the aim is to show that we are looking for a peaceful solution rather than any display of strength.’
Azeed nodded his understanding, but his brow was still furrowed. ‘Don’t forget that the sheikh knows nothing of this meeting. According to his son there is no way he would have you on Harithian soil, let alone agree to meet with you.’
‘Then I will just have to make Imran Amani see sense and hope he can get the message through to his father.’
‘And you are sure that you want to tell Amani that you are married to his sister? It’s a high-risk strategy. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you have made some progress with the peace negotiations before you own up to that?’
‘I am sure.’ Zayed met his brother’s concerned eyes. ‘There can be no more lies, Azeed. Our father’s lies have brought us to the brink of war, and by covering up my marriage to Nadia I have simply exacerbated the threat. I see that now. The longer our secret is kept, the worse it will be when it eventually becomes known. Now is the time for truth.’
‘Then, I wish you luck, brother, and I salute your bravery. Yours and Nadia’s.’
Both men looked across at Nadia, who had gone strangely quiet.
She was leaning back against the cushions with her legs neatly tucked under her. But her head was lolling to one side, a thick strand of blue-black hair falling over her face and catching on her slightly parted lips, vibrating with each sleeping breath.
‘I see it is time you took your wife to bed.’ With a rare smile Azeed rose to his feet, Zayed close behind him. ‘You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.’ And with a handshake and one final embrace the two men parted company.
Take his wife to bed. There was nothing Zayed would like to do better, in every sense of the phrase. Alone now, with the candles in the lanterns burning low, he looked across at his sleeping beauty. She looked ridiculously peaceful, given where they were, what they were about to face tomorrow. She was such an enigma, this young woman. Feisty and as fierce as a tiger when she needed to be. Challenging, autocratic and living up to her title of princess at times when things weren’t going her way. But she was the bravest person he had ever known, with the biggest heart and the most compassion to go with it.
Who else would throw themselves into such dangerous situations as she did, with so little regard for their own safety? The way she had when he had first found her in his bed. The way she was prepared to do tomorrow.
When he had told her that she would be accompanying him to Harith, that together they would tell her brother the truth, she hadn’t even flinched. Although the way her eyes had darkened to violet had given her away, tugging at something inside him, making him want to reach out to her, wrap his arms around her, tell her everything would be all right.
But of course he had done no such thing. He had just walked away and left her to her secret fear. Because that was the man she had turned him into. The man he had to be.
Leaning over her now, he scooped an arm under her legs and carefully lifted her up. She felt so light, so warm and soft as she sleepily nuzzled against
his chest, murmuring something against his ear that was totally unintelligible but that still sent a shaft of desire through his body.
Stepping inside the tent, he waited a second for his eyes to accustom themselves to the near dark. There was just one mattress laid on the ground, covered with rugs and blankets. Squatting down, he lowered Nadia onto it, attempting to pull back the blanket with one hand while holding on to her with the other. Sensing the movement, Nadia helpfully raised her arms and locked them around his neck, unbalancing him so that they both fell down onto the mattress.
For a minute Zayed let himself stay like that, cocooned beside her, breathing in her scent, allowing the illicit jolt of lust to kick in unchecked. Then, raising his hands, he extracted himself from her embrace and pulled the blanket over her fully clothed body. He was about to go, to leave her to sleep, but something about the soft pout of her mouth drew him back, and he couldn’t stop himself just moving the hair from her face and leaning forward to gently brush his lips over hers. They tasted of aniseed. They tasted of desire.
* * *
There was a noise from inside the tent. A sort of muffled yelp.
Zayed listened hard. He had been sitting out here for a couple of hours now, breathing in the cold blackness of the night, thinking through what had to be done tomorrow. The silence had calmed him, broken only by the occasional call of an unknown animal or the moan of a camel.
But this sound was neither of those things. There it was again, louder now. Getting to his feet, Zayed moved towards the tent and, pulling aside the tent flap, went in, impatient that he couldn’t immediately see anything. He could hear a rasping of breath and it took a second to realise it was his own, accompanying the hammering of his heart.
‘Nadia?’ He whispered her name, able to make out the shape of her body now, stirring beneath the blankets. ‘Nadia, are you okay?’
The small cry of response had him beside her in a second and he crouched down, wrapping one arm over her body and pushing the blankets away from her buried head with the other. He could feel her trembling, her whole body shaking with whatever fear was gripping her.