Falcon's Prey

by Penny Jordan

  It was an unjust accusation, and hot words of rebuttal trembled on her lips, to be swallowed when she reflected that any ill-feeling between Raschid and herself was bound to spoil the enjoyment of the others. Heroically she merely gave him a polite little smile, and pushed back her chair intending to follow Nadia.

  The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon, glinting on the large oval brass dish on a small table, and Felicia, her attention momentarily diverted, felt the blood freeze in her veins. In the dish lay half a dozen envelopes; the top one an airmail letter, very obviously addressed in Faisal’s hand and bearing Raschid’s name.

  Her hand crept to her throat, she longed to reach out and pluck the letter away before it could ruin her last precious memories, but Nadia was urging her through the door and she had perforce to follow.

  The morning air rang with the bustle of their departure, the strident cries of the falcons drawing Felicia’s attention.

  Until Nadia had mentioned it she had not realised that Raschid trained the falcons himself when he could spare the time. Even hooded, their cruel beaks and curving talons made her shudder, striking a chill right through her; the birds’ scarlet jesses were blood-coloured in the early morning sun.

  The bird nearest to her let out a shrill cry and flapped its wings. The servant holding it grinned.

  ‘Very good falcon, this one. He is named Sahud.’

  Felicia raised her hand to touch the bird’s tawny feathers, and instantly her fingers were seized in a crushing grip. ‘Don’t touch him!’

  Both Zahra and Nadia looked round to see whom Raschid was addressing with such controlled fury, and Felicia’s face burned beneath the open amusement of the saggar holding the falcon.

  ‘Those birds cost upwards of two thousand pounds apiece, Miss Gordon,’ Raschid said crushingly. ‘They are trained to attack and maim anything that moves—and that includes those pretty fingers you were fluttering about in front of him.’

  There was a large lump in her throat. She wanted to make a furious retort, to tell him that she thought the saggar had been inviting her to stroke the bird, but pride prevented her.

  ‘No harm has been done, Raschid,’ Nadia said soothingly, coming to Felicia’s rescue. ‘Honestly, you treat those birds like children!’

  ‘Because like children they have to be trained to obey, and rewarded when they do so.’

  A servant was handing him a leather glove, heavily embroidered with silver and gold threads, the leather as soft and supple as silk. Raschid pulled it on, smoothing it over his hand before transferring the bird from the saggar’s wrist to his own.

  Felicia watched as he proffered it a piece of raw meat. It took it, ripping the flesh with its talons and beak. Slightly nauseated, she turned away.

  Nodding to the saggar, Raschid handed the bird back to him.

  ‘This is life, Miss Gordon,’ he told her drily, proving that he had observed her reaction. ‘In the desert one has to fight to survive.’

  ‘And kill?’ she whispered, trying not to look at the bright splash of blood on the cobbles.

  ‘When necessary,’ Raschid agreed coolly. ‘Perhaps you would prefer to remain behind and keep my sister company?’

  And miss the opportunity of those last remaining hours of his company? She shook her head, and their eyes clashed.

  ‘Very well, on your own head be it. I warn you now, though, there will not be time to make allowances for your inexperience and ignorance of our ways.’

  Nadia and Achmed were already in the Land Rover, Zahra chatting eagerly to her sister through the open window.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise we were ready to leave,’ Felicia apologised, hurrying towards them.

  Raschid’s voice halted her.

  ‘You will be travelling with me, Miss Gordon,’ he announced. ‘Please get in the Land Rover. Zahra, will you go with Achmed and Nadia. Selim, Ali, one of you go with Achmed and the other come with me.’

  Almost paralysed with dismay, Felicia glanced pleadingly at Nadia. ‘Miss Gordon, you are keeping us waiting,’ Raschid reminded her.

  Nadia made a sympathetic grimace and gave her a little push.

  ‘Go on, he won’t eat you!’

  There was nothing else for it. With dragging footsteps she walked across to the second Land Rover, her face resolutely averted from Raschid’s masked features.

  The door slammed behind her. Selim climbed into the back, reaching over to hand Raschid the pile of letters Felicia had seen in the hallway.

  ‘Ali brought the mail when we went for the Land Rovers.’

  Taking it from him, Raschid stuffed the letters on to the shelf in front of him, giving them only the most cursory glance. Faisal’s letter was at the bottom, and holding her breath Felicia waited to see if he had noticed it. Apparently he had not. She opened her mouth to say that she had changed her mind and would not be going with them, but it was too late. The gates were open and as the sun finally burst over the horizon in a dazzle of molten gold they drove out into the unknown.

  With every second she expected Raschid to reach for his mail, but he was concentrating on his driving, and gradually she allowed her clenched muscles to relax. They would have to stop sooner or later, and when they did…. She closed her eyes in despair. When they did he would read Faisal’s letter and then…. She dragged her thoughts away, trying to concentrate on her surroundings. Even this early in the day she could feel the heat rising from the desert, and before too long her blouse was clinging stickily to her back. Only the odd remark in Arabic punctuated the silence as Selim pointed out various landmarks to Raschid.

  Secretly Felicia considered that one sandhill looked very much like another, but obviously this could not be so, for several times during the course of the morning Raschid changed direction.

  After a while she noticed that he always kept the sun on the left-hand side of the Land Rover, and feeling rather pleased with herself she deduced that he was using it to navigate. There was no compass in the Land Rover, but to a man used to the desert and its ways, the sun would be all the guide he needed.

  This supposition was reinforced when Raschid brought the Land Rover to a halt shortly before noon, his abrupt nod confirming that she should get out. Her eyes flew instinctively to the letters, her mouth dry with apprehension.

  Her clothes and face were gritty from the sand thrown up by the tires, but it was tension that was responsible for the cramped state of her limbs. She almost fell out of the jeep, and it was Raschid who saw what was happening and thrust open his door, striding round to swing her unceremoniously to the ground. Beneath lowered lashes she watched him. Hard and impassive, his face had a quality of strength that would give one confidence in him. If one had to be lost in this vast wilderness, he would make a good companion, she thought irrelevantly. A woman could rely on his strength even when she could not hope for his tenderness.

  He started to walk back to the Land Rover.

  ‘Stiff?’ Zahra teased.

  ‘A little,’ Felicia acknowledged, her eyes on Raschid. He was taking the letters from the shelf. ‘Do we hunt now?’ she asked Zahra absently. Was he going to open them now? Already she could hear his sardonic jeers.

  ‘After we have eaten and had a drink. The men will put up the falcons and we will follow them in the Land Rover. Sometimes they fly several miles without spotting a single hubara. They are wily birds, because although they cannot fly great distances, they have learned how to remain immobile while the falcon flies over them, and they can also discharge a thick, slimy substance into the falcon’s eyes and feathers which renders it defenceless, so you see the hunt is not all one-sided.’

  Achmed’s eyes twinkled.

  ‘I can see that such a state of affairs appeals more to your British sense of fair play, Miss Gordon. Like your fox, our hubara, although a much humbler species, nevertheless has its own native cunning, which allows it to outwit its much more intelligent foe.’

  Raschid hadn’t spoken during this interchange,
but at this he raised his head, regarding Felicia with a sardonic smile.

  ‘I doubt if Miss Gordon would be quite as impressed with the hubara’s cunning if she had to rely on its meat to survive.’

  ‘I am not the fool you would have everyone believe me, Sheikh Raschid,’ Felicia said quietly, with dignity, ‘but I thought the purpose of this outing was to enjoy ourselves, not catch our dinner.’

  ‘Touché, Miss Gordon. I doubt if Raschid has ever eaten hubara meat in his life, have you, my friend?’ Achmed asked gaily.

  ‘Then you would be wrong,’ Raschid replied, without elaborating.

  If only those letters had remained in Kuwait! How long would it be before he opened them? After lunch?

  The falcons started to screech, sensing freedom, and the subject of hubara meat and its desirability was dropped. Accepting a cup of fresh lime juice from Zahra, Felicia sat down next to her, letting her aching limbs relax. She lay back and closed her eyes, letting her body absorb the sensations of her surroundings—the coarseness of the sand under her fingers, the heat of the sun, the faint smell of petrol, the soft murmur of Arab voices.

  ‘What do you think of the desert, Miss Gordon?’

  Raschid’s voice startled her and her eyes flew anxiously to his.

  There was no sign of Faisal’s letter. She started to tremble, wondering if he had devised some subtle form of torture, whereby he was going to say nothing until she herself raised the subject. Very well, two could play at that game!

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ she said coolly, glancing round.

  ‘Whenever I’m here I wonder how I can endure to shut myself in an office, like an animal in a cage, but even the freest among us is chained by something; the greater our responsibilities, the greater the chains that bind us. A woman who shares the life of a man such as I has to learn to share his love for places such as these.’

  ‘Like your grandmother, you mean?’

  ‘She was an exception,’ Raschid said curtly. ‘There can be few women who would give up so much merely for the love of a man. In those days my family had no wealth as we know it today, and life was hard. I cannot see you, with your pale skin and pampered existence, forsaking life’s luxuries to cleave to one man, and one alone.’

  ‘Because you don’t want to see it,’ Felicia said quietly. ‘You see in me only what you want to see.’

  ‘I would to God that were possible,’ Raschid said harshly, his eyes suddenly intent. ‘Now you are angry,’ he told her softly, ‘and your eyes glint green fire as though they would consume me in their depths.’ His own glittered like jet between the fringe of his lashes. ‘And yet when I kissed you the other day, they were pools of mysterious jade.’

  ‘Raschid, Felicia, are you ready to eat?’

  Felicia didn’t know whether to bless Nadia or to curse her. ‘Ready!’ she called, jumping to her feet.

  They had a snack lunch prepared by the servants at the villa, and as soon as it was over the men moved over to the falcons.

  ‘This is where we become unwanted appendages,’ Nadia warned her. ‘Once the birds are put up, the Land Rovers will follow. If you take my advice you will get in the front and be prepared to hold on tight. It can be a pretty hair-raising experience. It is a matter of pride not to lose a falcon, and the men don’t make any allowances for female passengers.’

  Felicia was glad that Zahra had warned her.

  As she climbed into the Land Rover her eyes went automatically to where Raschid had placed the letters. They were gone. Her heart started to thump heavily. He must have read Faisal’s letter. It could only be a matter of time before he confronted her, unless of course he was deliberately prolonging her agony, playing a game of cat and mouse, enjoying her mental torture. If only she had had the courage to tell him before. If only she had not let her foolish heart sway her judgment. She felt the jeep rock as Raschid climbed in. He slammed the door and switched on the engine, and then she was hanging on for grim death as the vehicle bounced and swayed over the sandhills, lurching from left to right as they followed the falcon, soaring above them, a tiny speck in the deep blue sky.

  Sand clung to her eyelashes and hair. Every time she inhaled she tasted it in her mouth, the fine particles getting everywhere as the wheels threw up cloud after cloud behind them.

  They crossed deep gullies and sharp inclines, at frightening speeds, the engine racing as it battled to obey Raschid’s commands. At times they doubled back on themselves, and Felicia felt bruised all over as she was flung against the door and dashboard.

  Selim shouted something in excitement and Felicia felt the Land Rover buck like a temperamental horse. The tiny speck disappeared. Raschid cursed, his hands tensing on the wheel as he swung the Land Rover hard over. Felicia held her breath, her fingers clinging to the dashboard. The whole world seemed to turn upside down, sand and sky rushing past the window. She was flung against the door with a jolt that drove the breath from her body, and then they were speeding across a flat plateau, sand spraying across the windscreen.

  ‘You all right?’ Raschid asked tersely.

  She could only nod her head. Painful, nerve-tensing—the chase was nevertheless exhilarating, and she wouldn’t have missed it for the world, she realised to her surprise.

  Even when the falcon hovered motionless against the cobalt sky, dropping to earth with the swiftness of a desert night, she could feel no revulsion, only relief that the end was mercifully quick, the unfortunate hubara despatched with one efficient twist of the falcon’s talons.

  The saggar whistled tunelessly and within seconds the Land Rovers were halting, the saggars climbing out to wait for the falcons’ return.

  Exhausted but thrilled, Felicia waited while the whole business began again. She had been told that the falcons could kill up to eight or nine times in one day, but as Nadia explained, Raschid thought it unfair to take so much game when they were merely hunting for pleasure, so he normally restricted his bag to two or three hubara per falcon.

  She had been relieved to discover that they would not be expected to eat the results of their expedition. Although the hubara were not particularly lovable creatures, her tender heart would have found it difficult to contemplate eating their flesh, no matter how delicious it might be.

  The dying sun was casting long shadows across the sand when Raschid finally called a halt. Weary but exalted, Felicia tried to relax as the Land Rover plunged through the brief Eastern dusk to a small oasis where they were going to make camp.

  Raschid had suggested that they would make the return journey that night, but Nadia had demurred, and from the looks she was casting Achmed, Felicia suspected that the velvet darkness of the desert night held special memories for them that both were eager to renew.

  Nadia confirmed this later when they made camp at the oasis, informing Felicia that they had spent their honeymoon in the desert, just the two of them with a tent and a Land Rover, full of equipment. ‘And very romantic it was too,’ Nadia confided reminiscently, rummaging for the sleeping bags. ‘I’d better give these to Selim. Make the most of this trip,’ she advised Felicia. ‘It’s the only time you will see the men making themselves useful.’

  It was true. Even Raschid was pitching in, helping Ali to unload boxes of food and the camping stove. It was all vaguely reminiscent of her Girl Guide days, Felicia thought, only on a far more sophisticated level.

  Someone had got a fire going, feeding it with material brought from the villa, and in its flickering flames Felicia saw Raschid’s face, his expression for once unguarded as he smiled down at Zahra. Her heart caught in her throat, and unbearable pain swept her because he had never looked at her like that.

  As though suddenly aware of her intense scrutiny he lifted his head, his eyes blazing into hers, and she trembled on a convulsive shudder. Maybe it was as well that her self-inflicted torture would soon be brought to an end. She was beginning to appreciate the meaning of the phrase ‘living on one’s nerves’.

  ‘Will the Sitt hav
e some rice?’

  It was Selim, soft-footed as a cat as he padded up to her. Felicia shook her head. Despite the fresh air and Faisal’s letter. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ali filling Raschid’s plate. Here in the desert formality went by the board. Selim and Ali moving among them, silent and hawk-eyed, filling plates and coffee cups with no regard for the normal rule of male precedence, and Felicia even saw Achmed draw Nadia within the curve of his arm, feeding her tidbits from his own plate, his eyes tender as he looked down into her laughing face.

  There was a huge lump in her throat.

  ‘They are fortunate, those two,’ Zahra whispered at her side. ‘Tonight they will share each other’s bed under the stars, at one with the universe and each other. It makes me long for my Saud.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘I should not say that, I know. Poor Mother would be shocked if she heard me.

  ‘Do you ache for the one you love, Felicia?’

  Silently she nodded her head, her eyes lifting instinctively to Raschid’s broad shoulders. He was sitting barely a yard away, talking to Selim, obviously deep in conversation.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted painfully, ‘I do, Zahra.’

  SHE AND ZAHRA were to share one of the tents, while Achmed and Nadia had the other. Raschid and the servants were sleeping out in the open and after a quick dip in the oasis, Felicia was glad to crawl into her fleecy bag.

  She had heard about the intense cold of the desert night, but this was the first time she had experienced it first-hand. Sleep evaded her; Raschid’s face kept coming between her and the oblivion she desired. Next to her the sound of Zahra’s quick, even breathing filled the tent. Outside was all the glory of the Eastern night—the stark beauty of the desert, palm trees whispering their indolent message to the night breeze; above, the dark blue velvet canopy of the sky studded with stars brighter by far than any diamonds. No wonder the wandering Badu called no man master, counting themselves more endowed with riches than any city-dwelling king.