Swords of Arabia: Betrayal by Anthony Litton Read Free Book Online

known; in abeyance, but capable of being mobilised at a moment’s notice, once one, or perhaps two, people deemed them necessary.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    The first blow for Talal was, in fact, struck before the gathering actually began. Nasir walked in with his nephew at his side. Crucially, at Talal’s other side was Abdullah. Nothing was said, it was too soon, but Talal was handed to a seat near, but not too near, Abdullah himself, who took the place of honour on the small dais. The elderly sheikh ostentatiously ignored the rising murmurs when those already gathered had seen Talal enter, though he was aware that they consisted of an about equal mix of surprise, anger and welcome.
    Once seated, the prince looked around at his assembled family. Behind his always reserved manner and increasing frailty he was an astute reader of men and could see that the majority were genuinely shocked and grieved at the sudden death of the life-force that had been Fouad. He’d been their leader for almost twenty years and many in the family were genuinely unsure of how the country would survive the huge external pressures at present pushing relentlessly against it. Abdullah hoped such grief and uncertainty would act as the glue to bind them all together in the choices to be made both today and in the dangerous days following. He hoped so, but sincerely doubted it. Power was almost as big a drug as women he thought; more so, as one got older, he reflected, a trifle sadly.
    Once the usual courtesies had been offered, refreshments consumed and the slaves had left the room, he spoke quietly. “Brothers, nephews, cousins, honoured friends, little did we think a few short months ago, when we met and it was agreed that Talal be designated his heir, that we should so soon afterwards lose Fouad himself. He was the very strength, the very heart, of Narash. No one can easily stand in his place, no one,” he said flatly, looking round at each of his kinsmen as though defying them to challenge his statement. Instead, the loud and genuine murmurs of agreement that greeted his words, gave him a little, just a little, hope that they could reach an agreement satisfactory to all. “Despite that short period,” he went on, “I invite you to confirm the decision that we all freely took – and acknowledge Talal as our Emir.” He paused and looked round the assembled gathering. The direct question so soon and so unexpected, placed those who had indeed intended to question that decision in something of a quandary. Bringing the ten year old in himself and seating him amongst the men of the family also showed clearly where Abdullah himself expected the decision to go. He knew it was a master-stroke; had known it when it was suggested to him. He had known, also, that the audacious move would wrong-foot at least two who had intended to claim the leadership for themselves.
    Wrong-footed they had been, but not silenced. “We are glad to see our nephew amongst us, though somewhat before his time,” began Miteib, full brother and close ally of Faisal, his words bringing more than a few nods of vigorous agreement. Though Fouad’s son, it would normally be only as a man that Talal would take his seat at the family majlis . For Abdullah and Nasir to bring him in and be seen beside him, showed their clear intent in having him declared emir in place of his father. It was, in effect, a very public declaration of their loyalty. They knew that those both opposed and supportive would have already weighed the weight of their act. Though widely separated in age, both were highly regarded within the family and now the opponents of Talal knew something of what they were up against. Something, but not all , thought Nasir. He was well aware of two major surprises awaiting the assembled family members, though only one would be used – provided that neither Talal’s life nor his position were threatened.
    “Indeed, it would be several years too early were it not for his being