Swords of Arabia: Warlord

by Anthony Litton

  Chapter 27

  Just before they left, Nasir had taken precautions against their failing to get back to Narash.. He arranged for ben Youseff to send two swift riders overland. He reasoned that, with a verbal message only, the men faced little risk should they be captured by anyone sympathetic to either ibn Saud or the Ikhwan. Travelling even more swiftly would be the brace of messenger pigeons, “so very expensive, so very difficult to train,” that the little merchant had reluctantly provided, again, as his increasingly irritating guest had strongly suggested. Nasir couldn't assume that either would be successful, however, particularly as their own birds had been poisoned. They wasted no time, therefore, as they raced up the coast; fervently praying as they did so, that Fouad had indeed already heard of the disaster that had overtaken al Hofuf and was preparing for what they all saw as the inevitable attack on Narash.

  Their return journey was haunted by the thought that ibn Saud had split his forces and attacked Narash at the same time as he attacked the Ottomans. Nasir, himself, though, doubted it. No one could have foreseen the easy capitulation of the Ottoman forces, and it was unlikely ibn Saud would have risked over-extending himself by a two-pronged attack. Equally, of course, no one could have foreseen the sheer brilliance and high courage the Nejdi leader had displayed by his sudden and daring attack on what, after all, was a major imperial power.

  Fortunately, the winds were with the returning party, so they scudded up most of the Gulf at a brisk pace without needing to use the oars, for which they offered silent thanks. They were so exhausted from the journey down the coast and the horrific betrayal by Turki and his men that they had few reserves left, even when they'd reached al Hofuf. With little time to rest, what energy they had had left was heavily taxed by the tensions within the town. To have had to fast row the near 300 miles back home along the coast, could well have proved beyond the exhausted men.

  As it was, they were still dead-beat when, after three days’ fast sailing, they saw the twin headlands come into view. Nasir ordered his men to look as relaxed and carefree as they reasonably could, as they entered the harbour. The last thing he wanted was to be the cause of any panic. Of course, he reflected grimly, if news of ibn Saud's astounding victory had already reached not only Fouad, but had percolated down to the town itself, their attempts would be entirely wasted. To their relief, however, everything seemed as normal as they docked. He left two of his men to tie up the boat and two of the merchant’s men to offload ben Youseff’s boxes of ‘mementoes,’ as he and the remainder made their way up to the palace.

  A message to Fouad swiftly brought back word they were to join him in his inner rooms. They quickly passed through corridors lined with guards. They discovered later that they’d been placed there more to avoid rumour and half-truth getting out and alarming the population still further, than to provide extra security for Fouad and his immediate family. When they were shown into his rooms they found him, as calm as he always was, but presiding over a room full of tension and a scene of some confusion.

  Rising, he broke off a discussion with a group of tribal and family elders and, crossing the large chamber, embraced Nasir and greeted the rest of the group warmly.

  “Well, Brother, friends, your arrival is timely! We have many stories of what is happening, or not happening, in al Hofuf and with our Ottoman allies. You are the first to arrive with what we hope is more than mere rumour!”

  “Rumours, Brother?” queried Nasir, realising that the answer to at least one pressing question was answered. The riders and the pigeons had obviously not survived the journey to Narash. He and his men were clearly the first to successfully complete the dangerous journey. Knowing this, he paused, wondering what Fouad wished said openly; what he wished those gathered round him to hear.

  “Many and varied, but, come, tell us what has actually happened,” said Fouad, making clear he wanted the truth. Nasir, realising this, gave it to him.

  “Al Hofuf has fallen to ibn Saud,” he said bluntly. “With little fight,” he added, with equal bluntness.

  Not so much as a flicker crossed Fouad's face to show how grave a body blow this news was to him; none saw, but everyone knew, “So we had heard,” replied Fouad, outwardly calm. “Along with the equally ‘absolute truth’ that the Ottoman had fought heroically and had driven ibn Saud off with heavy losses,” he added sardonically. “We have also had every variation from ibn Saud heading this way with a mighty army of tribesmen and Ikhwan, to him having been routed and in headlong retreat back into the Nejd. One particular rumour, which we did like, however, was that he was dead, from an internal family coup!”

  “We saw him ourselves in the town” replied Nasir.

  Fouad nodded calmly. “And we must certainly plan as though he has survived. The question is – what will he do next?”

  “That surely will depend on the Turks,” interjected Isaac. “They can’t let this disaster stand, be unavenged! To do so would be laying all their lands, throughout Arabia and beyond, wide open to any jackal who feels he may be strong enough to take a bite!” Many in the chamber nodded their agreement. The Ottoman presence, though ebbing and flowing in scope and strength over the centuries, was seen as too permanent a feature and ultimately immoveable from the region.

  “The Ottoman will not try and re-take al Hofuf” Nasir was surprised to hear himself saying. “Oh, they may make some gesture at doing so, but they’ll do nothing serious to regain the town, nothing. They are finished in al Hasa.” He stopped suddenly, shaken that he, little more than a youth, had spoken out in disagreement with men many three times his age. But, he reflected, he knew what he'd seen and he knew what had been said in the conversations he'd had with both the nameless captain and his new friend Kerim.

  “Strong words, Brother. You know this?” asked Fouad, with a swift glance to the screens where Zahirah and Firyal were, as usual, seated and listening intently. Far from being angry at his presumption, Fouad sounded both unsurprised and genuinely curious as he gazed at his young brother.

  “I do,” Nasir responded and told him of what he and his men had observed about the indiscipline and low morale of the soldiery and the conversations he'd had with the two Turkish officers.

  When he'd finished there was stunned silence in the chamber. It was total and appalled, as all present struggled to assess what any Ottoman abandonment of al Hasa would mean for Narash and the other coastal emirates.

  “We risk being pushed into the sea!” stated Mamduh, an elderly uncle of Fouad's, with his usual pessimism.

  Fouad didn't reprimand him for his negativity. His uncle was well known in the family for being utterly defeatist in council and utterly fearless in battle, never even considering withdrawal or any outcome but complete victory. Fouad was no longer surprised at the two completely opposing sides to the older warrior. Indeed, he valued his pessimism as being a useful guide to the true feelings of many not only in their own wider family but also in the important merchant families with influence in the sheikhdom.

  “No matter that ibn Saud throws his armies at us, we will not be driven out of our homeland!” said one man, heavyset and middle-aged, waving his arms above his head to emphasise his words “We will fight until he is driven back into the wastelands that he came from!”

  “You think we can?” Mamduh asked sourly.

  “We would risk our total destruction fighting him in battle,” challenged another.

  “And how can we even risk battle, even defend ourselves?” another uncle asked bluntly. “With the Ottoman gone and the Rashid weakening, we will be no match for the al Saud numbers, should he sweep up from al Hofuf. Even if all our other allies stay firm, his forces will outnumber us greatly, I fear.”

  “But he doesn't,” said Nasir, suddenly and clearly, bringing swift silence to the rising babble of contradictory voices. “Doesn't have an army with him,” he continued, once he was sure of having the room's undivided attention.

  “Brother?” queried Fouad, his black eyes sudde
nly completely focused on Nasir, as he raised a hand to silence the room, when the discordant shouting threatened to erupt again.

  “He doesn't have a great army with him. Ben Youseff had information just before we left. He has only some ten score men, maybe fifteen score with him at the most.”

  “Impossible! To capture an Ottoman town with so few men!”

  “No! Not even Abdul Aziz could do such a thing!”

  “Why not? Has he not done so in the past! And with fewer men!” the interjection, though uttered calmly and comparatively quietly, again brought swift silence. Muqrin, a great-uncle of Fouad, was one whose views were always listened to with the absolute respect demanded both by his age and, even more importantly, by the fact that he was almost always right.

  “Yes, and by the same tactics,” muttered another greybeard, accusingly.

  “They worked, did they not,” mocked a younger man. “He recaptured Riyadh, heart of his Nejd heartland, with some three score men, even fewer, it seems, than those needed for al Hofuf!”

  “You're sure of this, Brother?” Fouad asked. “Think! It makes much difference to what we do next!”

  “I am sure, Brother, very sure. We had no feeling of overwhelming strength during the night of the attack. Youseff's information confirmed our own instinct. Much of the Saudi success was due to the sloth of the Ottoman sentries. They weren't alert, which helped him in getting numbers of his men over the walls without challenge. Without that he couldn't have taken the town so quickly, or at all.”

  “If this is so, we may have some little time to prepare.

  “You think he will come here?” asked Abdullah ibn Waleed, one of the few merchants present.

  “I would if I were him,” replied Fouad bluntly, “but I tell you all this, whether he does, or does not, attack us in the next few days, we will always, from now on, have to act as though such an attack is almost upon us. Also, we must, from this moment, guard against him using similar tactics as he's used against the Rashid and the Ottoman. We must guard our town every night as though it is the very night that he will try and scale our walls!”

  He could see by the nodding heads, as much as by the murmurs of agreement, that no one disagreed with him. Although he suspected the loyalty of some in the room, he knew that most would stay loyal to his house, if for no other reason than their assessment was that that's where lay their own best interests. Fouad had few illusions, though; should Narash's position become too fragile, then many would quickly shift their allegiance elsewhere, even to ibn Saud.

  He let the talk go on for some while longer, then on the pretext of all needing sleep, he brought the gathering to an end and courteously and with a touch of humour, wished them all an event free night

  He watched in silence as his advisors left the room. All but Nasir.

  “Stay, Brother,” Fouad had said quietly, as his brother also made a move to leave. Puzzled as to what he could want, Nasir stayed, standing by him until the room was empty.

  The Sheikh then turned towards the screens as Zahirah and Firyal emerged from behind them.

  “It seems we have much to do, if we are not to be the next to fall to ibn Saud,” he said, smiling without humour.

  “If he comes here soon, certainly,” nodded Firyal

  “But with so few men, will he take the risk? He will know we have been warned of al Hofuf’s fate and be prepared,” queried Zahirah.

  “Can we be sure that he hasn't got more men joining him and is riding to attack us, even as we speak?” asked Nasir, worriedly.

  “Yes. We have large scouting parties out across the whole of Narash; our allies have similar parties out across their lands also.”

  “So, we wait. Is that what you’re saying?” exclaimed Nasir in disbelief.

  “We can do no more. Our tribes are ready should we have need of them. I don't wish them raised unnecessarily. I want them sharp when – if – an invasion comes, and still riding by our side!” he added sardonically.

  Nasir nodded, well aware of the Bedouin’s short timespan to be willingly away from their homes.

  “Nothing else?”

  “We are also approaching the British – again – for their protection,” He shrugged fatalistically as he added, “But we must wait and see if they can, at last, see the danger of allowing ibn Saud too free a hand in our lands and on the waters along the Gulf. Isaac would prefer it otherwise, I know,” he added, referring to the elderly chamberlain's well-known dislike of a British alliance.

  “Dislike it, yes, Lord, but now see it as our only way of avoiding the embrace of ibn Saud. And losing a little of our independence may be the better of the prices we have to pay.”

  “A change indeed, Isaac, a change indeed,” smiled Fouad.

  The chamberlain shrugged, “I am a realist. And anyway, it may be that one day, Allah will send the British the way of the Ottoman and other foreign powers who have coveted our lands, and they too become as the dust beneath our feet,” he said sourly.

  “Let us hope you are right, Chamberlain,” interjected Zahirah. “But, you are right also, until that time, we must work with what we have.”

  “It may be that the sudden collapse of our Ottoman neighbours may – what do the British say? Ah yes! – ‘set the alarm bells ringing’. Let us sincerely hope so.”

  Fouad nodded, “Indeed” he agreed soberly. “For now, whilst we wait on the word of the British, we have work to do here.”

  “Will you ride out to the borders to meet ibn Saud, should he come?” asked Nasir.

  “Oh yes! The moment we hear of him approaching, I shall ride out and meet him. We can't risk him getting one cubit of our land, our alliances are too fragile to hold, should he do so,” replied his brother grimly. “Meanwhile, we have a situation of immediate danger here, in the town. Isaac here has been busy whilst you were away on your pleasure jaunt!” he added, smiling grimly. “Tell my brother what you have discovered,” he ordered, turning to his advisor.

  Bowing his head, the portly chamberlain allowed a look of rare uncertainty to cross his pump features. “Very little solid information, as you know, Lord, but what we have discovered is worrying. On hearing of the Lord Turki's, ah, unfortunate death and, ah, more particularly the circumstances of it, I ordered, on Lord Fouad's authority, an immediate search of his palace. A complete search, even of the women's quarters.”

  At this, Nasir's eyes widened in shock. To invade the quarters of anyone's women was a grave matter. Fouad having ordered it showed both the seriousness with which he viewed Turki's betrayal and sent a clear signal of the lengths he would go to ensure its failure.

  “The search of the women's quarters was done under the control of the Lady Zahirah. No documents were found, of course,” Isaac continued. Nasir nodded, unsurprised. Turki, like the majority of Narashi, either low or high born, could neither read nor write. “What was found, however, was a large bag of gold sovereigns.”

  “Far more than Turki could ever have acquired,” added Fouad sombrely. “Even if he'd involved himself in trading, which he never did, feeling it beneath his station.”

  “Could it have been placed there to be found by someone wanting to harm him?” asked Nasir, desperate to still believe well of his brother, despite what he'd himself experienced, and seen, scant days previously.

  “It is possible certainly, though to place such a huge sum just to implicate someone else is a little extreme; we're talking of fifty gold sovereigns. If it was a deliberate placing, knowing we'd find – and keep – the gold, it makes it a very costly ploy merely to disgrace a rival. And a rival for what? He would never have the support to displace me. The family would choose any of half dozen others before him. No, such a sum was for some great act of betrayal, such as he attempted when he tried to stop you reaching Hofuf and so warn the Turks.”

  “Yes, we're of the view that it was Turki's gold and a clear sign of his betrayal; a further sign,” Isaac added, with a brief bow to Nasir. He stopped, suddenly and seemed somewh
at ill at ease.

  “Continue,” prodded Fouad. “Tell Nasir what else has occurred.”

  Nodding, Isaac continued in a rush, as though wanting to finish with the whole business. “The Lord Abdul was found trying to flee the town,” he said sadly.

  “Abdul! – our brother?” Nasir reeled from the shock. Never close to Turki, he had been close to Abdul, Turki's full brother and half-brother and friend of Nasir.

  The chamberlain nodded, “As were the Lord's Mus'id and Salman,” he continued. “And Mansour, the Lord Mus'id's eldest son.”

  Nasir, stunned turned to Fouad, who nodded. “Yes, Mus’id and Abdul, our brothers, Salman our cousin and Mansour our nephew, all men we thought had remained loyal to us,” he added bleakly.

  “Are we sure they were all involved with Turki's plot?” asked Nasir, desperate in the face of what he saw as the fragmenting of his family.

  “They've not yet been questioned. All are being held in separate cells, whilst their palaces are searched, their servants and slaves questioned,” his elder brother replied. “I shall see them as the sun rises tomorrow. We shall have as much information as the searches and the questioning can reveal.

  “Fouad! You're not having our kin..........!” exclaimed Nasir, horrified.

  Fouad, smiled coldly. “Questioned by my dungeon master? Not yet. Fear not, brother; if I do, it will only be if all else fails. Torturing our blood is not a path I wish to travel down. Unless I have to,” he added, dispassionately. “But enough, we must all sleep, tomorrow promises to be somewhat crowded. We will need to be fresh and alert to stay on top of whatever the day's events turn out to be!” Turning to leave, he stopped and turned back to Nasir. “You have done well on your errand, brother; besides bravery, you have shown cunning and foresight. Added to that, a man who has the loyalty of men such as Nawwaf is the sort of man I need in my private councils; such a one as I've not had since.... since… Mohammed died.” He paused briefly to ensure no emotion showed through. Mastering himself, he continued. “I would like you to join Isaac and the Ladies Zahirah and Firyal in any discussions we have from this day on.”