Escape from the Harem

by Mary Lyons

  ' "How it was", is a phrase that seems to haunt my existence!’ Leonie muttered grimly, staring blindly out of the window. ‘Very well,’ she said at last.

  With a sigh of relief Zenobia sat back in her seat, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. ‘After Badyr had agreed to take another wife, and with your departure from our country, it seemed as though all would go well with my arrangements. The choice of Badyr’s new bride was an obvious one. Aisha was the daughter of my husband’s brother, Hassan. I knew that she would be approved of by my husband, especially when I pointed out to him, as I did, that the girl would also be a hostage for Hassan’s good behaviour. Such a consideration was necessary, since Sultan Raschid was enraged by your escape!’ She shuddered at the memory. ‘However, I soon discovered that I had made a terrible mistake--not only in seeking to interfere in my son’s life, but because I knew so little about Aisha.’ Zenobia gestured wearily. ‘Hassan had been ruling the north of the country for my husband, and his daughter was brought up there. I, myself, had only seen her once as a small girl and had no idea that the tuberculosis which had killed her mother was also already present in Aisha’s lungs. She was a pale, sickly young girl of sixteen when she was married by proxy and sent down to join Badyr at the Summer Palace. There, at the height of the monsoon, she rapidly succumbed to the disease. My husband would do nothing--although I begged him on my knees to send a doctor down to look after the poor child--and she gradually became more and more ill. I know that Badyr and the guards did what they could, but by the time the good weather arrived, it was too late. The disease had gained a hold which it has never lost, and ever since that time, Aisha has been very, very ill.’

  ‘But surely tuberculosis is curable nowadays?’

  Zenobia shook her head. ‘Badyr has taken her to Switzerland and seen the world’s top consultants--there was nothing anyone could do. Eventually, she begged him to allow her return, to let her die in peace in her own country.’

  ‘Oh, God--the poor girl!’ Leonie looked at her in distress. Zenobia’s story, the description of Badyr’s poor sick wife in the throes of a terminal disease, was so far removed from the glamorous ‘other woman’ of her jealous fantasy, that she was hardly able to fully comprehend what she was hearing.

  ‘And that is why my son would never divorce her. Badyr has always said that it was tragic that she should have been forced into marrying him, and that our family was totally responsible for the sharp decline in her health. He maintains that if Aisha had been left to live in the North, high in the mountain ranges, none of this would have happened to her.’ Zenobia sighed. ‘And yes, of course he is right, Aisha needs all his care and support for the little time she has left in this world.’

  Leonie gave a low moan, hiding her face in her hands as she recalled all she had said to Badyr, the day she had discovered the existence of his other wife. ‘Why did he never tell me? Why didn’t he explain everything to me in London?’ she whispered.

  ‘My son does not confide in me, and there is little I can say that will be of any help to you, I’m afraid.’ The older woman’s voice was surprisingly warm and sympathetic. ‘But I do know that Badyr was convinced you would never, never accept his second marriage--whatever the reason--and he felt he could not bring you back to Dhoman while Aisha was still alive. I can only imagine that when your mother wrote to him about her marriage, and her worries about you and Jade, that he decided to take a chance; bringing you back and hoping against hope that you would never find out about his second marriage.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Men are such fools, are they not? But truly, Leonie, he has a great love for you--of that I am very certain.’

  Her mind a seething mass of pain and confusion, Leonie’s chaotic thoughts were interrupted as she felt the car slowing down to negotiate a series of dangerous bends through a narrow mountain pass. A few moments later they drew up outside a small white, single-storied building set on a cliff projecting out over the valley far below.

  ‘When Aisha expressed a wish to return to Dhoman, Badyr had this house built for her. The air up here is purer than that down in the plain,’ Zenobia murmured as the chauffeur came around and opened the door of the vehicle.

  Trying to control her nervously trembling limbs, Leonie found herself being helped out of the car and following the older woman up a wide flight of steps towards a heavy oak door. It was opened by a nurse in a blue starched uniform, who was swiftly joined by a young Dhomani doctor wearing a white coat.

  ‘m afraid that it is only a matter of hours,’ he murmured to Zenobia, before turning to Leonie. ‘You are the Sultan’s wife?’

  Still feeling stunned and in a state of shock from all that she had heard during the last hour, Leonie was incapable of speech and only able to nod her head.

  ‘Ah, then if you would please be so good as to come with me,’ the doctor said, taking her arm and leading her slowly down a long corridor.

  ‘I do beg you, Majesty, not to be alarmed by what you see,’ he murmured softly as he halted outside the door. ‘The Sultana Aisha is very weak, but I assure you that she is in no pain. Indeed, I am hopeful that your visit may ease her spirit, since she has been most anxious--most determined--to speak to you. So, please do not be distressed by her frailty and remain calm, yes?’ he added as he put out a hand and opened the door.

  Leonie’s first impression was of a large, white-walled and airy room, two sides of which were composed of arches open to a wide verandah overlooking the far mountain peaks. Trembling nervously in the doorway, her eyes were irresistibly drawn past the two nurses present towards the small, frail figure of the girl lying on a narrow bed in the centre of the room.

  Why--she’s no more than a child! Leonie thought, swept by a tide of deep pity and compassion as the doctor led her over to a chair beside the bed. It was all she could do not to cry out in distress as she found herself staring down at the pitifully gaunt, stick-thin frame of a young girl. Her face, surrounded by long black hair, was deathly pale, only the brilliant dark eyes burned fiercely, glowing feverishly as they surveyed the woman bending over her.

  ‘You . . . you are Leonie’?’ Aisha murmured, her thin lips curving into a sweet smile. ‘I hope . . . I understand you speak Arabic?'

  ‘Yes,’ Leonie whispered nervously, lowering herself down on the chair and trying not to show how shocked she was at the sight of the other girl’s wasted limbs.

  'That is good--my English is very, very bad!’ She lapsed into Arabic, once again giving Leonie a sweet smile, her thin chest heaving as she fought for breath. ‘I wanted to see you . . . it is very important that I tell you ...tell you...’

  ‘Please! Please don’t try to speak too much,’ Leonie murmured, her tender heart going out to the frail girl whose laboured breathing was a heart-wrenching sight. Without thinking she took Aisha’s thin fingers into her own warm hand. ‘Surely you should rest and conserve your strength?’ she added.

  ‘No. No, I have no time!’ Aisha rasped. ‘And I know . . . I know that it is so important I tell you that Badyr and I . . .’ She began to cough, a nurse swiftly materialising by her side to gently sponge the perspiration from the Arab girl’s face.

  ‘Poor Badyr, he has been burdened with me for so long. Never has he shown the least impatience . . .’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘Because of his great kindness, and because he is so unhappy and desolate, I knew I must tell you . . .’ She faltered, looking up at the girl beside her. ‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘Yes, you are as lovely, as beautiful as Badyr always said you were.’ She gave another heavy sigh. ‘I must confess I was always jealous of you. So silly of me, hmm'?’ Aisha gave a small, wry smile.

  ‘And I of you,’ Leonie whispered, tears filling her eyes as a hard lump of pity and sorrow obstructed her throat.

  ‘Of-of me? How foolish of you!’ The girl gave a rasping, incredulous laugh which shook her frail figure. ‘That is why I wanted to see you. Why I had to tell you that Badyr and I have never .. . never lived together. Not . . . not as man
and wife, you understand?' she panted. ‘I knew that it . . . it was important that I tell you this, yes?’

  ‘Oh, Aisha!’ Leonie grabbed some tissues from a box beside the bed, fiercely blowing her nose and wiping the tears from her eyes.

  ‘Poor Badyr. He has loved you so long . . . and so well. He was always so kind to me . . . but he could not bring himself to touch me . . . could not act that which was not in his heart . . .’

  The girl’s voice died away as she lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes, clearly exhausted by the effort of speaking so much. ‘Yes . . .’ she murmured, her breathless voice breaking into the long silence at last. ‘Yes, it is true that I love him. I, too, love Badyr with all my heart--even a poor creature such as I! Alas, I can give him nothing.’ A sob rasped in her throat. ‘But I thought that if you knew the truth, Leonie . . .?’ The thin talons of her hand gripped that of the English girl, agitatedly trying to raise her thin, wasted body. ‘He says little, but I know you are estranged because of my marriage to him. He is so unhappy. Can you not forgive him? His marriage to me was not . . . not of his making. Surely you can understand--and learn to love him again?’

  Tears were streaming down Leonie’s cheeks, her figure shaking with sobs as she realised the depth of Aisha’s unselfish, hopeless love for Badyr.

  ‘Please, do not cry.’ The breath rasped in Aisha’s throat. ‘All I ask of you is that you do not throw away his love and devotion. It is so very . .. very rare, is it not?’

  ‘I promise you that I never stopped loving Badyr,’ Leonie whispered. ‘l tried, but I found that I couldn’t,’ she faltered, swept by a devastating sense of shame. ‘He tried to tell me the truth, but I wouldn’t listen!’ she cried. ‘It’s all my fault!’

  ‘Oh, nol I too am married to Badyr. I also know him well, you understand? I think he was frightened.’

  ‘Badyr--frightened?’ Leonie gazed incredulously at the girl through her tears.

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Aisha’s lips curved into a wry smile. ‘Even Badyr is human! He feared to lose you for ever. And when you discovered our marriage . . . how silly of him not to tell you the truth! . . . and you would not listen to him . . . he became too proud to beg . . . to confess to you why he married me. Yes, I love him, Leonie. But loving brings knowledge of weakness, as well as strength. So, I know he is kind and good . . . but he can also be stubborn and arrogant. Oh yes!’

  The two girls found themselves grinning warmly at each other through their tears.

  ‘So, you see? We are friends, yes?’ Aisha whispered, smiling up at Leonie.

  ‘Yes,’ Leonie nodded, sniffing as she wiped away her tears. ‘It is so generous of you to tell me everything. Is there anything you need, anything I can do for you?'

  ‘No, l am just happy that we have met and talked,’ Aisha murmured, her breathing becoming less laboured as if eased by being able to tell Leonie at last all that had been on her mind for so long. ‘I can see that you will soon be having a baby, hmm?’ she added. ‘And Badyr says you have a little daughter, whom he loves very much. Please tell me all about her.’

  Leonie felt almost too choked with emotion to comply with the girl’s request. ‘Well, her name is Jade and she was five years old last April,’ Leonie began, holding Aisha’s hand as the girl lay peacefully back on the pillows and closed her eyes. ‘She is very like her father, possessing both his temper and the same determination to get her own way!’ Encouraged by Aisha’s grunt of laughter, she went on to describe Jade’s love of hopelessly unsuitable words, and her current craze for learning to ride. ‘Of course, her great-uncle Feisal—who is her great hero—spoils her outrageously,’ she was saying as she became aware of the doctor standing beside her.

  Looking up, she saw him lean over the prone figure of the girl on the bed, staring at him in bewilderment as he gently removed her hand from Aisha’s and slowly drew the sheet up over the Arab girl’s pale face.

  ‘No! Oh no!’ she cried, swept by a feeling of utter desolation. ‘Oh no . . . please say it isn’t true,’ she begged helplessly, slumping back in the chair and burying her face in her hands.

  ‘Ah, Majesty,’ the doctor murmured, putting an arm about her shoulders and helping her trembling figure to rise. ‘You must not weep for the Sultana Aisha. It was only her determination to see you which had kept her alive so long. She is surely now at peace, safe and well in Allah’s loving arms.’

  ‘But we had only just become friends, and . . . and . . . there was so much I wanted to say—so many things I’ll never be able to tell her!’ Leonie sobbed as he led her slowly towards the door.

  ‘Death is not to be feared. It is merely a door leading into a new world for the Sultana. One in which she has already cast aside the frail, sick frame with which she was forced to inhabit this life. Her true purity of soul is now shining whole and beautiful among the blessed,’ he said softly. ‘You must not begrudge her the happiness of which she is now most surely possessed, nor fear that she does not see and know all that is in your heart.’

  Leonie, the tears streaming down her face, allowed herself to be led from the room and back down the corridor. Almost paralysed with grief, she was hardly aware of being helped into the waiting limousine, and was still sobbing helplessly when the vehicle arrived back at the palace. Trembling with anguish and remorse, she stumbled from the car--and into her husband’s arms.

  ‘Oh, Badyr!’ she wailed. ‘Poor Aisha—she’s --she’s . . .’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I know, my darling,’ he murmured, holding her closely and gently stroking her hair.

  ‘I’ve been so stupid! So blind and cruel! And . . . and I love you with all my heart,’ she sobbed. ‘How can you ever forgive me?’

  ‘There is nothing to forgive—unless we must beg forgiveness of each other,’ Badyr said quietly. ‘By her generosity of spirit, Aisha has given us both the chance of a new life together. Can we not accept and treasure such a precious gift, hmm?’

  Raising her tear-stained face to his, Leonie became aware that Badyr was standing very still, a muscle beating wildly in his jaw as he waited for her answer.

  ‘Oh, yes—yes, please,’ she whispered, feeling the breath being slowly expelled from his powerful body in a long-drawn-out, emotional sigh before he crushed her passionately in his arms, his mouth covering her trembling lips in a kiss of fierce, hungry possession.

  Later that evening, Leonie awoke from a sleep of deep exhaustion, which had claimed her tired mind and body almost from the minute that Badyr, having carried her upstairs, had laid her on their soft bed. Turning her head, she saw his tall, lithe figure rise from an easy chair as he moved over to sit down beside her.

  ‘You are feeling better now, my love?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, I . . .’ She faltered as he gently helped her to sit up against the pillows. ‘We must talk. I hardly know how to begin to apologise . . .’

  ‘What need is there for apologies between us, my darling?’ he said softly, as his arms closed gently about her. ‘I fell hopelessly and quite irresistibly in love with you--an adorable, innocent and shy young girl--when you called at my apartment all those years ago. From that moment, absolutely nothing has changed the deep emotional feelings I have for you, my beloved.’

  Leonie stared down at her quivering hands, before forcing herself to meet Badyr’s intense gaze. ‘I never stopped loving you, either,’ she murmured softly. ‘I . . .I did try, but ...’ She sighed helplessly as she leant back against the pillows. ‘I know that I’ve been incredibly stupid at times, but we’ve had such a very complicated married life, Badyr. Please don’t blame me too much for . . . well, for doubting your feelings for me.’

  ‘How could I ever blame you for anything!’ he said huskily, taking her trembling figure into his arms. ‘So much has been my fault. Right from the first. From the moment we married, our love was put under such an intolerable strain.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I should have waited. I should have had enough self-control to wait until after the coup against my father
before marrying you. But I wanted you so much, my darling! You were so very young, like a rose in bud, perfect and unawakened, and I feared that some other man would steal you from me while I was away. I nearly became demented at the thought of an unknown stranger teaching you the delights of physical love, receiving your first shy responses and hearing those sweet cries of rapture,’ he groaned, burying his face in the soft cleft of her breasts.

  ‘I . . . er . . . I did beg you to marry me and take me to Dhoman,’ she murmured, gently running her fingers through his black hair.

  ‘Yes, but I should have been sensible enough to know what a disaster it would turn out to be. But where you are concerned, my darling, I am as weak as water.’ He raised his head to give her a lingering kiss. ‘The only excuse I can offer is that I had been away from this country for so long, that I did not realise the full extent of either my father’s despotic rule or his unstable temperament.’