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Authors: Anthony Litton

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Reluctant
to
force
a
vote
he
was
not
yet
at
all
sure
of
winning,
Abdullah
then
silently
acknowledged
another
who
wished
to
speak.

And
the
long
meeting
continued
well
into
the
afternoon.
As
Nasir
and
Zahirah
had
foreseen,
Nasim
and
Yusuf
neutralised
each
other.
Neither
agreeing
to
give
way
to
his
kinsman,
their
fragmented
support
was
nowhere
near
enough
to
carry
them
even
near
the
throne.

There
were
still
three
remaining
threats
to
Talal’s
ascension,
however,
and
by
the
end
of
the
seventh
hour,
the
picture
there
was
beginning
to
become
clear.
Nothing
had
been
said,
overtly,
but
all
in
the
room
knew
that
one
– Mahmoud

had
peaked.
He
had,
though,
made
a
much
stronger
than
expected
showing
and
Zahirah
and
Firyal
watching
closely,
thought
that
they’d
miscalculated
and
that
the
basic
weaknesses
of
his
position,
his
birth
and
lack
of
true
warrior
status,
were
being
ignored
in
favour
of
his
other
attributes.
But
then,
slowly,
one
or
both
began
to
work
against
him
and,
almost
invisibly,
his
strength
also
started
to
ebb
away;
though,
again,
nothing
was
said.

That
left
two,
and
suddenly
there
was
a
major
surprise.
Faisal,
after
remaining
silent
throughout
the
long
day,
suddenly
spoke.

Ah! Here comes his bid!
thought
Nasir
wryly,
impressed
by
his
uncle’s
timing.
The
meeting
had
been
going
on
so
long
that
many
in
the
room
were
almost
unconsciously
drifting
into
agreeing
to
support
anyone,
to
bring
it
to
an
end.

But
Nasir
was
wrong

“I
think
we
have
spoken
long
enough.”
Sure
he
had
the
attention
of
everyone
in
the
room
and
being
a
born
showman
and
storyteller,
the
stockily
built
prince,
with
an
incongruously
aesthetic
looking
face,
paused
for
effect
-
and
then
changed
everything,
everything
entirely.

 

 

Chapter
Seven

 

“It
is
time
to
resolve
this,
re-affirm
our
family’s
unity;
become
as
one
again.”
He
paused,
then
continued.
“I
feel
our
brother
Badr
should
become
our
next
emir.”

It
was
if
a
thunderclap
had
crashed
scant
inches
above
everyone’s
head.
The
sudden,
stunned
silence
in
the
room
was
total
as
every
man
took
in
the
seismic
shift
the
declaration
of
Faisal,
himself
with
powerful
backers,
had
brought
about.

Behind
the
half-screens,
Zahirah
and
Firyal
exchanged
alarmed
glances.
An
alliance
between
the
two
powerful
princes
was
one
eventuality
they
had
not
foreseen.

Ya Allah
!
We’re lost!
thought
Nasir,
his
alarm
matching
that
of
his
two
kinswomen.
Looking
round
he
could
see
the
sudden
master-stroke
had
un-nerved
and
unbalanced
everyone
sitting
round
the
room.
Supporters
of
Mahmoud
looked
as
stunned
as
those
supporting
Talal.
The
only
ones
who
looked
at
all
happy
besides
Badr’s
and
Faisal’s
supporters,
were
Nasim
and
Yusuf
who
now
clearly
realised
they’d
never
have
won
against
such
an
alliance.
Nasir
felt
the
whole
room
shift
and
he
knew
the
mood
was
swinging
swiftly, and
rapidly
starting
to
harden
behind
Badr’s
candidature.
Men
turned
where
they
sat
and
started
to
look
towards
Badr.
Though
he
remained
silent
and
unmoving,
he
seemed
to
grow
almost
visibly,
a
man
well
able
to
take
the
throne
and
rule
in
his
brother’s
place.

But,
if
one
unexpected
interjection
can
unsettle,
unbalance,
a
meeting
so
can
another.
Suddenly,
Sultan,
a
half-brother
of
Faoud’s
and
a
mid-ranking
sheikh
who’d
always
kept
studiously
neutral
of
all
the
factions
within
the
family,
suddenly
cut
across
the
growing
clamour
for
Badr.

“What
say
you,
kinsmen?
Shall
we
support
our
brother
Badr,
another
whose
supporters
talk
family
unity
but
act
otherwise?
I
see
much
similar
double-talking
in
those
who
secured
the
citadel;
turned
it
into
a
haven
such
as
we
all
must
feel
entirely
secure
in, and
at
such
speed
too!”
This
was
almost
purred
by
the
softly
inflected
voice
of
the
portly
prince.
Nasir
sat
very
still,
intently
studying
his
uncle,
whose
pudgy,
but
still
darkly
handsome
features,
showed
a
growing
anger,
as
he
launched
his
attack
on
not
just
Badr,
but
the
memory
of
Fouad
and,
through
him,
Talal,
his
son.
“Though
why
it
was
deemed
necessary,
with
ibn
Saud
himself
in
disarray
and
so
far
from
our
borders,
I
know
not!”
He
smiled
a
little
mockingly,
entirely
aware
that
everyone
in
the
room
knew
against
whom
the
citadel
had
been
secured,
and
it
wasn’t
any
external
threat
but
was
aimed
at
many
now
sat
in
that
very
room.
He
looked
ostentatiously
around.
Apart
from
the
two
guards
at
the
door
and
a
half
dozen
around
the
room
there
were
no
others
in
evidence. For
there
to
be
so
would
be too
stark
an
insult
to
what
were,
after
all,
family
members
and
a
few
highly
placed
and
trusted
outsiders.
He
and
no
one
else
in
that
room,
however,
had
the
slightest
doubt
that
the
corridors
surrounding
the
chamber
were
full
of
armed
men
ready
to
respond
at
the
first
hint
of
danger
to
Talal.

“One
is
impressed
by
the
talk
of
family
unity.
Our
hearts
are
stirred
by
the
rallying
cry
of
us
all
standing
together,
shoulder
to
shoulder,
a
family
united
against
a
common
enemy.
It
warms
this
warrior’s
heart
to
hear
it;
or,”
he
paused
and
then
continued,
his
voice
now
brimming
over
with
a
scathing
sarcasm.
“it
would
,
if
all
this
fine
talk
wasn’t
coming
from
the
very
sections
of
the
family
who
supported
our
nephew
when
he
arrested
four
of
our
number
and
kept
them
immured
in
the
filthy
dungeons
right
beneath
our
very
feet!”
The
loud
voices
of
agreement,
showed
Nasir
that
Sultan
was
voicing
views
held
by
many
in
the
room.
That
none
of
those
same
voices
would
have
dared
to
speak
out
when
Fouad
was
the
ruling
emir
was
a
symptom
of
how
much
had
changed,
was
still
changing.

“Sultan
is
right!
There
has
been
much
talk
of
unity,
of
family
feeling!
I
tell
you
frankly,
that
those
and
some
of
the
other
platitudes
uttered
today,
make
me
sick
to
my
stomach!”
spat
Sahir,
another
uncle,
suddenly
apparently
unable
to
control
his
temper
and
ratcheting
up
the
already
dangerously
high
tension
several
more
notches.

BOOK: Swords of Arabia: Betrayal
7.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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