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

his father’s heir, as agreed by us only a few months ago,” responded Abdullah firmly, his faint hopes of an easy agreement rapidly disappearing.
    “There is surely no suggestion that we change that state of affairs?” asked Salem, a mid-ranking uncle of Nasir’s, whose favourite wife’s family were long-time business partners of both Firyal and Zahirah. He was one of the few who, suspiciously to many, had seemed unsurprised at the boy’s entry. The stony silence from certain sections of the room that greeted his words, however, told them all clearly that that was exactly what some intended – and it soon got a voice.
    “Enough of this foolery! The times are too dangerous for us to be led by a boy!” Abdullah’s eyes turned towards the speaker, seated near him: his brother Husain, a burly, thickly bearded man, some years his junior.
    “What is the alternative, brother?” Abdullah asked calmly; and, should too much space be given by the question and a rival name be prematurely thrown into the ring, proceeded to answer it for himself. “Do you yourself wish to put yourself forward in his place; become our next ruler? And would you have the family’s support?” he asked quietly. “I doubt it; some would support you, yes, but not all. Others would support someone else.” He paused and then continued quietly. “Others, a number of others, would offer support to yet different names and none would have enough support to carry the day and unite all factions. We would then find ourselves fighting amongst ourselves, weakening our line just when it must be strong. On the other hand, Talal as emir is someone we can all unite behind, stay united, and remain strong.”
    “I myself would be a better choice, yes!” Husain flashed back. “But no, I say our brother Omar should become the head of our family!” The whole room seemed to draw in a sharp breath as one. Omar! He was not one of those thought of as a contender. Although he was a fierce and much admired fighter, he lacked the other skills needed in a leader. He was also known to have less family backing than any of the five front-runners, so why was Husain putting forward his name?
    The question was never answered as the name itself was lost in the resulting uproar. It suddenly seemed as though everyone in the room was talking at once, as if they were afraid that should their name, or the name of their preferred candidate, be left too long out of contention it would be lost in the stampede towards another name.
    Only a few kept silent, Nasir amongst them. He sensed that the room was not yet moving to any form of consensus and so forced himself to be silent. Should it become necessary he would speak, though the longer he, one of the youngest present, kept silent, the more that long silence would be noted approvingly and any words he did then utter would be listened to with more seriousness and respect.
    Eventually Abdullah’s thin voice, aided by the robust support of one or two others, managed to bring some order back into the room. He was just about to invite further – orderly – discussion, when the initiative passed to another in the room.
    “I do not believe the boy should be present,” said an elderly man seated across the circle from Abdullah, his thin features clearly showing his displeasure. “It is not seemly,” he added, encouraged by low murmur of agreement which, after a startled pause, rose up at his words.
    “It is indeed unfortunate, as to discuss other names in front of him is difficult” murmured a younger man seated near him.
    Abdullah, expecting the challenge, indeed he had been expecting it earlier, responded with surprising firmness. “No more unseemly than to discuss other names that may be put forward, when their owner is in the room! Perhaps they should also be asked to leave!” His curt tone and the obvious logic of his words silenced both the speakers and their supporters.
    It was, he knew, testament to how strong Fouad’s