The Sheik in charge of each tribe had literally to push the horses to one side to show her the ones he particularly wanted her to notice.
There was one stallion which totally thrilled her. It belonged to a young Sheik who had only recently taken over the leadership of his tribe from his father.
He looked at Vanda with admiring eyes and announced,
“This, Your Royal Highness, is a Kehilan.”
The stallion was indeed magnificent and the young Sheik continued,
“The breed received its name from the black marks round their eyes. The marks give them the appearance of being painted with kohl like the Arab women.”
He paused before he added in a low voice, “But they are not as beautiful as Your Royal Highness!”
Vanda smiled at him.
“Thank you,” she blushed. “But I find everything in your country so beautiful, especially the horses.”
As if he was annoyed at the young Sheik for trying to flirt with her, the Sheik moved Vanda way.
He told her, as if he was giving her a lecture, that the Bedouins never use a bit or bridle of any sort for their horses – only a halter with a fine chain fastened round the nose.
“I noticed your men riding like that,” Vanda said, “and I find it extraordinary that they can control their horses so easily and so efficiently.”
“I think it is because our animals are gentle and without vices,” the Sheik replied. “They have none of the viciousness of European animals.”
“How does it happen that there are such especially fine breeds in Syria?” Vanda asked.
“There is a legend which says they are descended from the mares of King Solomon, but few Arabs believe it. What we do know is that our horses have a strain which is incomparable with any other in the world.”
The Sheik spoke almost aggressively, as if he expected her to contradict him.
Vanda responded quietly,
“We in England agree entirely.”
She paused before adding a little tentatively,
“That is why we are so anxious to buy a good number of horses from you, Your Highness.”
The Sheik did not answer and she felt her spirits fall.
It would be tragic if they returned to England with only three horses when they needed so many more, but she understood however that it would be a mistake to go on bothering the Sheik.
She was glad when a little while later there was a tolling of bells from the house to signal that luncheon was ready.
The Sheik had certainly done his guests proud. The large room in which they had dined earlier had been flung open with all the curtains drawn back.
There were low tables all round the room and the display in the centre of fruit and flowers was very beautiful.
The food was placed on the tables so it was easy for everyone to help themselves whilst the servants hovered around offering the soft fruit drinks which were all the Bedouins ever drank.
There was no wine this time for the Earl and Charles, which made Vanda realise how privileged they had been to be allowed wine when they were alone with the Sheik the previous evening.
She was again seated on his right.
On the other side of her was the young Sheik who had paid her the compliment and she was not surprised to learn that he was the head of the largest tribe present.
She noticed that the other guests were very respectful towards him and she therefore addressed him as Your Highness, knowing that he was pleased that she acknowledged him as an eminent Sheik.
Vanda enjoyed the kemmáye which seemed even more appetising than on the previous day and there was a profusion of quail’s eggs and magnificent bowls of fruit.
She noticed that all the guests ate eagerly.
By the time they were finished the tables which had been so laden seemed almost empty.
The Earl whispered to Vanda that she would now be expected to ride. She was delighted at the idea and hurried to her bedroom followed by her Bedouin ladies.
She quickly changed into her pink riding habit, convinced that it was the more spectacular of the two she had bought in London. There was a gauze veil of the same colour around her black hat.
She wanted to make her appearance even more impressive and therefore took a diamond brooch from the Earl’s jewellery box and pinned it onto her left shoulder.
She looked at herself in the mirror and thought the Sheik would definitely be proud to show her off to his friends.
She walked outside to discover that they were already waiting for her and so were the horses.
She was to be mounted on a magnificent white mare which she thought the Sheik had deliberately chosen for her because she would look spectacular on it. Her ears were long and her eyes were full and soft.
“She is very lovely!” Vanda exclaimed.
“She is a Hamdani,” the Sheik informed her. “A very uncommon breed both amongst the Aeneze and our own tribe.”
“Allow me to assist Your Royal Highness,” a voice came from behind Vanda.
She turned her head to see the young Sheik who had sat next to her at luncheon. Before she could say anything he had lifted her up and placed her on the saddle.
She became aware as he did so that her host was looking extremely indignant.
“Thank you so much,” Vanda said to the young Sheik.
“You can come and visit me,” he invited her, “and I will show you two horses of the same breed, one of which I assure you is even more magnificent than this one.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
While she was talking her host had mounted his horse and now he said almost angrily to Vanda,
“Come, Your Royal Highness. We have a great deal to do.”
He rode away without speaking to the young Sheik, who hurried to his own horse so that he could follow them.
The Sheik took Vanda round the horses of each tribe whose Chief had been a guest at luncheon. She had already been introduced to all of them, yet she realised that they in their turn wanted to impress their tribes by showing how friendly they were with the Royal Princess.
Most of the men could not understand English so all Vanda’s comments were translated by the Sheik and because her words were always of praise she was deeply appreciated.
It took them quite a long time to go round all the different tribes.
Vanda was in no doubt that additional tribes had arrived while they were having luncheon.
They were some distance away from the house when there was the sound of a gunshot followed by several others.
The Sheik turned his horse round to look back and there appeared to be some commotion in front of his house.
From the distance Vanda could not see what was happening.
A number of tribesmen started to ride towards the turmoil and there must have been a dozen or more men in front of her riding towards the house.
She was suddenly aware that two horses had closed in beside hers.
She looked at them.
They were ridden by men who seemed at first glance to be differently dressed from any of the tribesmen she had seen so far.
She was just about to speak to them hoping they would understand her, when to her astonishment they seized the reins of her mare and without a word they started to lead her swiftly away into the desert.
“What are you doing? What is happening?” Vanda demanded.
Even as she spoke the two men on either side of her quickened their horses and started to gallop, pulling her horse with them.
“Stop! Who are you? Where are you going?”
She quickly began to realise that she was being kidnapped and she could only imagine it was by the enemy of Sheik Abu. She remembered that the Earl had told her his name was Sheik Shalaan el Hassein.
It took Vanda a moment or two to appreciate the horror of her situation and it was equally difficult to think.
The two men were setting such a tremendous pace that she had to be careful not to fall off and their ho
rses were perfectly willing to go faster and faster.
She had never galloped faster than she was now being forced to do by the two men on either side of her.
When she managed to glance at them she felt that they were men of perhaps thirty years of age and she guessed from the way they were dressed that they were of some importance.
She wondered what the Sheik would do when he found that she was missing.
There were obviously tribesmen near them when she had been kidnapped who would recognise the men who had taken her.
It was a gross insult to have snatched away the Sheik’s Royal guest and it would undoubtedly mean war between the tribes.
The whole idea was terrifying.
Vanda could not bear to think that many horses would be wounded or killed, but she was frightened for herself. Somehow, she believed, the Earl would get her back, but at what cost?
It was still difficult to think clearly because of the pace at which they were still galloping.
Then, sooner than she expected she saw ahead a cluster of black tents and sensed that this must be where the tribe was camped.
It was only when they were a short distance away that the two men on each side of her slowed down a little.
As they drew nearer Vanda could see a crowd of tribesmen congregating, some on horseback, some standing, but they were all looking in her direction.
What had just happened, she thought, must have been skilfully planned, as the horsemen came rushing towards her, waving and shouting with excitement.
She could imagine the plot without being told.
Sheik Shalaan el Hassein had wished deliberately to insult his enemy and he could not have done so more effectively than by abducting his chief guest who was believed to be a Royal Princess.
When the men on horseback reached her they just stared at her and turned their horses to ride on beside them.
Now Vanda’s two captors had slowed down to a trot as the crowd outside the tents were moving towards her. They were obviously roused by her appearance and by the fact that she was a prisoner.
With difficulty she straightened her shoulders, lifted her head and looked over towards the tents.
From the largest tent a man emerged dressed in full flowing robes looking most imposing and very much in charge.
Her two captors drew her right up to him and the Sheik looked directly over the horse’s head at Vanda.
In quite good English he announced,
“Your Royal Highness, Princess Vanda, I am Sheik Shalaan el Hussein and you are my prisoner!”
Vanda inclined her head.
“I guessed, Your Highness,” she stated in a cold voice, “what was happening to me, but this is an outrage.”
There was a faint smile on the Sheik Shalaan’s face as he replied,
“I was not invited to the party and I had therefore to ask the chief guest to come to me!”
From the way he spoke Vanda realised he was as well educated as Sheik Abu.
The two men who had kidnapped her dismounted and then to her surprise Sheik Shalaan lifted her to the ground.
“I think,” he said, “Your Royal Highness would like to partake of some refreshment after such an unexpected ride.”
Vanda did not answer, she only allowed him to lead her into his tent, which was similar to the one they had taken luncheon in yesterday.
The same low tables, carpets, sofas and curtains which shut out the sun.
Sheik Shalaan moved a sofa towards the table and with a sense of relief, because she was so frightened, Vanda sat down.
At least, she thought, she was being treated in a civilised manner and with respect.
As soon as she was seated, a drink of fruit juice was set in front of her. She took a sip before she became aware that Sheik Shalaan had not sat down but was standing looking at her.
He did not speak and after a moment Vanda quizzed him,
“Now, having kidnapped me, what do you intend to do with me?”
“I am waiting to see what the reaction of the enemy will be,” the Sheik replied. “Whatever it is you can be sure my men will be ready for them and I shall not give up such a beautiful Princess easily.”
Vanda put down her glass.
“Please,” she pleaded, “settle this dispute amicably. If you fight the horses will be hurt and perhaps many of your men will be killed. Is it worth losing such valuable assets for anyone, even an English Princess?”
The Sheik gave a surprised laugh.
“You are very brave,” he said, “as I have been told the English are. At the same time I have managed to hurt my enemy in a manner he will not forget.”
He paused before continuing,
“He was flaunting Your Royal Highness before his friends and his enemies to show how important and how prestigious he is. Now he will be a laughing stock. The man who lost his prize even while it was still within his grasp.”
There was a jeering note in the Sheik’s voice. It told Vanda how delighted he was to hurt Sheik Abu Hamid.
For a moment she wondered what she could say and then because she realised how pleased the Sheik was with himself, she said,
“I think in fact, Your Highness, you are being both unkind and childish. Is what you have just done worth the life of even one of your magnificent horses or perhaps a number of your faithful followers?”
The Sheik made an expressive gesture with his hands.
“What else can you expect from us living in the desert?” he asked. “But to fight and demonstrate our superiority and strength.”
“I can imagine other actions which would be far more civilised,” Vanda responded.
As she spoke she noticed a look in the Sheik’s eyes which frightened her.
He was, she thought, not as old as she had expected him to be. Perhaps approaching forty, but no older.
For the first time since she had arrived in the Sheik’s tent she was frightened for herself as a woman. Suppose he avenged himself on Sheik Abu by assaulting her? Or perhaps, without even thinking of his revenge, he would find her desirable.
Quickly, because it was the first idea that came into her head, she said,
“I only hope, Your Highness, that before you take any action you will give not only Sheik Abu, but the two distinguished Englishmen who have accompanied me here to your country, a chance to solve this problem. Perhaps they can find a solution which will be to your advantage without bloodshed.”
“I think it is quite unnecessary,” the Sheik Shalaan retorted, “for Englishmen to take any part in what is a conflict between Sheik Abu and me.”
“As I am English, then obviously the English must be concerned. I can sure you, Your Highness, that if I am hurt, upset or insulted, the stern attention of Her Majesty Queen Victoria will be invoked.”
She realised as she spoke that this thought had never occurred to the Sheik. In truth it did perturb him as the might and importance of the British Empire was indisputable.
Vanda was quite certain that the fact of her being English would involve the British Empire had never crossed the Sheik Shalaan’s mind.
“I can only ask,” she continued, “that Your Highness will think over carefully what I have said. As I have already suggested, please wait for developments before you take any hasty steps in one direction or another.”
She rose to her feet as she finished speaking saying,
“I think, since I find my treatment very disturbing, I would like to lie down.”
The Sheik clapped his hands and when a servant appeared he gave him some hurried orders.
The Sheik and Vanda sat in heavy silence.
A few minutes late two women hurried into the room.
“These women will take you to a tent where I hope you will be comfortable. A little later I shall be most disappointed if Your Royal Highness will not dine with me. Until then, pray rest.”
Vanda acknowledged his words with a little nod of her head and then seeing where the women had moved to on the other side
of the room, she joined them.
She did not look back, but she sensed that the Sheik was watching her keenly.
She was troubled by the expression in his eyes.
The tent to which she was taken was a grand one and she thought it was doubtless the most important tent next to the Sheik’s own. It was not one that would usually be allotted to a prisoner.
Because she was hot and tired she took off her hat, her riding jacket and her boots and lay on top of the bed which was more like a couch.
The soft pillows were a relief as ever since the horsemen had come on each side of her she had been tense with anxiety.
Now she could only hope that Sheik Shalaan would negotiate. Perhaps he would send a message which the Earl and Sheik Abu could discuss together.
It was indeed a dramatic and perhaps a tragic ending to their adventure, although Vanda felt strongly that she would do anything rather than allow the two tribes to fight over her.
The horses were all so beautiful and she could not bear to think of them wounded and dying.
She knew that desert wars were just a way of proving each Sheik’s superiority.
She must have dozed for a while.
When the women came to wake her she found that it was already late and it must in fact be getting on for eight o’clock.
Darkness had arrived with its usual swiftness and when she walked into the centre of the tent the lights were lit.
Sheik Shalaan was waiting for her and when they were seated with a low table in front of them Vanda asked,
“Have you heard anything from Sheik Abu?”
“Nothing, Your Royal Highness,” he replied sharply.
This omission had obviously surprised him and Vanda guessed that he was worried at the silence.
“If we cannot discuss the current situation,” Vanda said, “perhaps you tell me about your tribe? I am also interested to know why you are an enemy of Sheik Abdul Medjvel el Mezrab.”
Sheik Shalaan turned to her in surprise.
“How do you know that?” he asked.
Vanda smiled.
“His wife is English and of course in England we have all been most interested in her very colourful and unusual career.”
The Sheik laughed.
“Unusual is the right word for it, Your Royal Highness. And I find it extraordinary that an English woman should wish to be a Bedouin’s wife.”
A Kiss In the Desert Page 10