Escape from the Harem

by Mary Lyons

  Shivering and shaking she turned over, seeking a handkerchief to staunch the tears of bitter remorse which were flooding down her cheeks. A sound attracted her attention and she glanced sideways to see the swirling white robes of Badyr’s tall figure as he entered the room.

  ‘No! Go away!’ she cried hysterically. ‘Oh God! How I wish I’d never b-been b-b-born!’

  Not able to control the sobs that shuddered through her trembling body, she hung her head, tears blinding her vision as she stared fixedly down at her fingers clutching the sheet in wild agitation.

  There was a long silence as Badyr came to a halt beside the bed, staring down at the girl who was weeping so bitterly. His lips tightened into a hard line as he viewed the disordered cloud of her magnificent red-gold hair, her figure shaking as if in the grip of some tropical fever.

  ‘I realise that it is no excuse to say that I could not prevent myself from behaving as I did last night,’ he grated harshly. ‘The sweet enticement of your body would tempt even a saint--and God knows I am but a frail, mortal man.' He paused for a moment as she buried her face in her hands, shaken by a fresh paroxysm of convulsive sobs. ‘Unfortunately, as much as I would wish to do so, there is a very good, pressing reason why I cannot leave Muria at the moment. However, I am not prepared to allow scandal or gossip to touch my house and family,’ he declared in a cold, hard voice. ‘I must, therefore, continue to use this palace as I have always done, until such time as I can depart on my tour of the country. Nevertheless, my dear Leonie,’ he added with savage bitterness, ‘you have no need to worry. I can give you my complete assurance that you will be quite safe from what you clearly regard as my vile attentions. I trust I make myself clear?’

  Exhausted by her storm of weeping and stunned by the harsh ferocity of his voice, Leonie could do no more than nod her head, waiting with quivering, nervous tension to hear what else he had to say. However, the heavy silence was only broken by the swishing sound of his long, white robes as Badyr spun abruptly on his heel and swiftly left the room.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TOWARDS the end of what seemed to have been the longest three weeks of her life, Leonie was quite sure she had never before been quite so miserably unhappy, despite all that had happened in the past. It was as though she inhabited a desperately lonely, wretched state of purgatory, where nothing could lift the heavy weight of her despair.

  Tension headaches plagued her during the succeeding long hot days, giving her no rest from the terrible realisation that she was trapped: both by the imminent birth of her baby, and a daughter whom she could not possibly abandon, but also by the knowledge of how desperately she yearned for Badyr’s arms; a longing which haunted her every conscious moment. He was her first thought on waking and her last at night. His presence even haunted her disturbed, restless sleep as his tall, charismatic figure strode relentlessly through her dreams. His cruel abandonment, his callous disregard and total insensitivity was an ever-present torture--a terminal illness from which it seemed she would never recover.

  If only she had not asked old Sultan Raschid for tuition in Arabic, all those years ago. Maybe, if she hadn’t been able to speak the language, she might have been spared the knowledge of exactly where and with whom Badyr was spending his days. Unfortunately, she had inadvertently overheard a conversation between two of the palace servants. From what they said, it had been abundantly clear that the Sultan was in constant attendance on his second wife, Aisha, at her palace up in the hills behind Muria.

  Despite the painful knowledge of her husband’s scandalous, almost obscene behaviour, it seemed that nothing could destroy the deep feelings she had for him. If, as she did, she constantly told herself how much she hated Badyr, she was also full of bitter self-loathing for a her own emotional weakness. She couldn’t even accuse him of not keeping his word, given the last time they had spoken to each other. She was always fast asleep when he joined her in the large bed, and had left it long before she opened her eyes in the morning--only the lingering aroma of his distinctive cologne betraying the fact that he spent his nights lying beside her.

  Maryam had called one afternoon, the brief visit proving to be a heavy strain on them both. Leonie, whose head was pounding with a migraine, felt quite unable to talk about her desperate situation, while Maryam had been clearly shocked and horrified by the sight of the English girl’s haggard beauty, the bleak misery in her sapphire-blue eyes. Keeping their conversation to such innocuous topics as Jade’s enthusiasm for her pony and her scholastic progress under the supervision of Elizabeth Jackson, Maryam did let fall the information that a few days previously Sara had given birth to a little girl.

  ‘Uncle Hassan is delighted with his new daughter,’ Maryam enthused, before blushing fiercely at her faux pas. Mention of her uncle and his new child could only lead to the dangerous topic of his eldest daughter, Aisha. ‘I . . . er . . . I went to visit Sara yesterday. She’s in the new Maternity Hospital,' she continued quickly. ‘It is really a wonderful place, Leonie, and all the nurses--who are British and American--seem to be so friendly. Are you having your baby there?'

  Leonie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she muttered, realising with a pang that she should have given more thought to the necessary details and arrangements for the birth of her child. ‘I’m so pleased that Sara has the little girl she wanted, please give her my love,’ she added, feeling ashamed of the envy she felt for Sara who, unlike herself, had the loving warmth and support of her husband at such a time.

  The tense, strained atmosphere between them had caused Maryam to cut her visit short, and when the arrival of Sultana Zenobia was announced a few days later, Leonie asked Hussa to make her apologies. The thought of having to go through the trauma of yet another round of polite conversation was more than she felt she could cope with.

  ‘Stuff and nonsense! I have no intention of going away without seeing her Majesty,’ the older woman stated firmly, brushing the servant aside as she strode regally into Leonie’s private sitting-room. Taking no notice of her daughter-in-law’s obvious reluctance to see her, she proceeded to sit down in a comfortable chair, giving Leonie a searching glance from beneath her heavy eye-lids.

  ‘Hmm. I can see that Maryam was quite right. It is plainly obvious that matters between you and my son have reached a desperate state.'

  ‘I . . . er . . . I really don’t want to discuss. . .’

  ‘How long is it before the birth of your child?’ Zenobia asked, as Leonie slowly raised her ungainly body from the chaise-langue on which she had been lying, and rang the bell for a servant to bring in the coffee which was traditionally served to visitors on their arrival.

  ‘About a month,’ she muttered, returning to lie back against the soft cushions.

  ‘One would have thought Badyr could see how he is endangering the birth of the son he desires so much--the stupid man!’ Zenobia shook her head, clicking her tongue in exasperation. ‘Very well,’ she added firmly, 'I can see that despite his orders to the contrary, I clearly have no choice but to resolve this unfortunate business as swiftly as possible.’

  Imperiously clapping her hands for Hussa, the Sultana completely ignored Leonie’s protests as she instructed the maid to bring a shawl for her mistress, before sweeping the breathless English girl out of the palace and into a waiting limousine. Reeling under the swift turn of events, Leonie demanded to know what was going on.

  ‘Despite being motivated by the very best of intentions, I once did you and my son a great injury. I believed that I was right at the time, but . . .’ The older woman gave a weary shrug of her shoulders as the vehicle sped through the streets of Muria. ‘Oh, yes, I have had years in which to realise that I was wrong--that I had, in fact, made a tragic mistake.’

  Leonie looked at her in silent confusion.

  ‘It is important that you understand how it was when you first came to this country,’ the Sultana mused quietly. ‘I must tell you that I was completely devastated when Badyr arrived bac
k in Dhoman with you as his new wife. I was horrified by what my son had done--especially in view of the past history of the family. Badyr’s grandfather married a French woman as his first wife,’ she explained. ‘And although their child was the eldest son, the ruling sheikhs of the time refused to accept the boy’s mixed blood. Ignoring his just claim, they chose his younger brother, by another Arab wife, to rule Dhoman.’

  ‘I really don’t see . . .’ Leonie looked at her in puzzlement.

  Sultana Zenobia sighed with impatience. ‘You are an intelligent girl, so surely you can understand how it was? I had schemed and planned to get Badyr out of the country, insisting that he be educated abroad, and made strenuous efforts to keep him well away from his father’s increasing madness. And then—what did my son do? He returned to Dhoman with a foreign bride!’ She sighed deeply.

  ‘But Badyr has no other brothers.’

  'I could not rely on that fact. There was no guarantee that Fatima would not have a son, or the ruling sheikhs might decide to adopt Hassan or Feisal on my husband’s death--see how Hassan has married Sara, and already has a young son.’ Zenobia waved her hand dismissively. ‘Besides, after Badyr’s arrest, my spies told me that my husband was seriously planning to disinherit his son in favour of Hassan. I had to move quickly, Leonie. It is important that you understand that I had no alternative but to make sure that you left the country--something which, Allah knows, I had tried to achieve since the day you arrived at the palace! Once you had left the country, I would then be able to marry my son off to a proper Arab wife. It would be easy to rally support behind him, once he was suitably married, and ensure that when he escaped from his prison, nothing would stand in his way. There would be no impediment to prevent him from taking over control of Dhoman from his father.'

  Leonie gasped. ‘You mean . . .?’

  ‘Yes. For Badyr—for my son’s life, his safety and the future good of this country--I did what I had to do.’

  ‘So, it is you I have to thank for everything that has happened to me!’ Leonie ground out harshly. ‘My God—I hope you’re pleased with your handiwork!'

  ‘No, I have told you that I now see I was wrong. Please, please calm yourself,’ she added hurriedly, putting a restraining hand on the arm of the furiously angry girl sitting beside her.

  ‘Don’t you touch me, you . . . you evil woman!’ Leonie cried. ‘Have you any idea of the heartbreak you’ve caused me? And don’t keep telling me to calm down!’ she added with a snarl. ‘My God--there’s nothing to choose between you and your son--the spineless bastard!’

  ‘You do not understand.’ '

  ‘You’re damn right--I don’t!’ Leonie retorted savagely. ‘It’s quite clear that I’ve never understood my husband! How could Badyr have let himself be ordered around like that? It’s almost unbelievable!’ Her voice rose incredulously. ‘I knew he was ambitious--but to meekly do as he was told? Tossing me aside and cheerfully marrying another woman?' She couldn’t go on, almost choking with rage and fury.

  ‘Leonie! Be silent and listen to me!’ Zenobia ordered, catching hold of the younger girl’s hands and holding them firmly in her own for a moment. ‘It was not as you think. No, not at all!’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Leonie sighed heavily, slumping back in her seat and closing her eyes. ‘Please take me back to the palace.’

  ‘No—I cannot do that.’

  ‘What?’ Leonie turned her head to look at Zenobia, a frown creasing her tired brow.

  The older woman hesitated for a moment. ‘I am taking you to see Aisha.'

  'Oh, no!’ Leonie sat bolt upright, her eyes flashing with anger.

  ‘Yes, yes I must. I have no choice in the matter,' Zenobia shrugged.

  ‘Well, I certainly have! For God’s sake—haven’t you caused me enough trouble? Let me out of here, immediately!’ she added with a sob, looking wildly about her. For the first time she noticed, through the smoked glass windows, that the car was travelling swiftly across a dusty plain towards the foothills of a far mountain range.

  ‘Please, Leonie! I speak only the truth,’ Zenobia assured her earnestly. ‘I told you that I had no choice--and it is true, I haven't. Badyr’s wife, Aisha . . . she is dying!’

  It was some moments before Zenobia’s words seeped through the chaos in Leonie’s brain. ‘Aisha? Dying?’ She tumed to stare at the older woman in bewilderment.

  ‘Aisha made me promise—despite anything Badyr might say—that I would bring you to her. I cannot break a promise to a woman who will soon leave this life. Such a request is a solemn, binding obligation which I must obey.’

  ‘Aisha is dying? But why? I don’t understand.’ Leonie shook her head in dazed confusion.

  ‘I have been trying to tell you, but you would not listen to me,’ Zenobia sighed wearily. ‘To understand all, I must explain what happened when Badyr was arrested by his father and sent into exile down at the Summer Palace. Yes, I was frantic with worry for my sonâ--what mother would not be? I knew it would only be a matter of time before my husband disinherited his son--as you know, he was growing more mad and unpredictable with each passing day. Hmm?’

  ‘Yes, I . . .’

  ‘However, while you remained in the palace as a hostage for Badyr’s good behaviour, there was nothing I could do to gain his release. My son sent me many secret messages asking for my help to arrange your escape from Dhoman. However, I realised that he was powerless without my assistance, and so I agreed to do as he asked, but only on condition that he immediately took another wife.’

  ‘My goodness,’ Leonie’s voice grated bitterly. ‘What fun for Badyr!’

  Zenobia winced at the girl’s caustic words. ‘I may well deserve your anger, but not my son, Leonie. He completely refused to agree to my terms, remaining adamantly opposed to any suggestion that he should take a second wife until he heard, from sources other than myself, of the pressure which my husband was directing against you. Only then, and because he feared for your safety--indeed, for your very life--did he most reluctantly agree to do as I wanted.’

  ‘Are you telling me . . .?’

  ‘I swear that what I say is the truth. As soon as I received Badyr’s assent, I arranged your departure to Abu Dhabi. Badyr had no access to funds while he was imprisoned, and it was his suggestion that you be sent with some precious rugs and carpets. He said you would know how to dispose of them and have enough money on which to live, until such time as he could plan the coup against his father, divorce the wife I chose for him and bring you back to Dhoman.’ Zenobia leaned back on the seat and gave a heavy sigh.

  ‘I had no objections to my son’s plans. My only desire was to see him safely on the throne and running the country--that is all.’

  ‘And I was just a silly young girl, an expendable pawn in your game, wasn’t I’?’ Leonie said quietly.

  The Sultana shook her head. ‘You were very far from being a silly young girl-how much easier my task would have been had you been so! No, Leonie, you were too young to realise it, but I saw immediately that you were too strong and independent. Despite all that l did, it was obvious that you were determined not to give in, resolved to survive all the hardships placed in your way. Not even my husband’s terrible rages could manage to completely quench your spirit. Oh yes! You possessed the power to defeat all my plans--all my arrangements. I had to be rid of you before you became fully conscious of the fact.’

  ‘Dear God! I really do believe you think you’re paying me some sort of compliment!’ Leonie lay back wearily against the seat. ‘I can see it would be useless to even attempt to explain just how revolting I find your mad pursuit of power. Power, position and wealth--all gained at such a terrible cost!’

  ‘You are right to accuse me, Leonie.' Bright patches of red stained Zenobia’s cheeks. ‘l accept all you say, but in my defence I must ask what you would do if your little Jade was threatened? Or the new baby, hmm? Would you not fight tooth and nail for their interests? And if you feared for their life--as I feared for my
son’s--can you swear to me that you would not seek to brush aside anyone or anything that stood in their way?’

  There was a silence in the car as Leonie remembered how she had tried to make Badyr divorce his second wife. She hadn’t cared about Aisha at that point, had she? All she had been concerned about were her children and their future welfare. Desperately wanting them to have the sole protection of their father, she had even. offered to stay with Badyr, despite her full knowledge of his despicable behaviour.

  She gave a heavy sigh. ‘I . . . I don’t know. You may be right. But I like to think that I would have been more humane. Not so terribly cruel.' She couldn’t say any more as she fought to control the tears which threatened to fall any minute.

  Zenobia looked at the girl sitting beside her. ‘I am sorry,’ she said softly. ‘More sorry than you will ever realise. And it is because words of sorrow achieve nothing, that I am taking you to see Aisha today. My son will be furious. He is such a proud man, is he not? Just as proud and stubborn as you, I think!’ She gave a harsh snort of wry laughter. ‘I doubt that he will ever forgive me for interfering in his life, but Aisha wishes to see you. She has requested that I bring you to see her, because she has something of importance to say to you. And no, I do not know what it is that she wants to say,' she added, forestalling the question trembling on Leonie’s lips. ‘I am merely fulfilling the obligation she has placed on me--one that I cannot in all conscience avoid.’ Zenobia hesitated. ‘Come, Leonie. Will you not listen to what I have to say? Please give me a chance to explain how it was.’