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Sheik Abd al-Majiid Ibn Al-Mansur shifted
his antique firearm to a more comfortable
position. It was an ancient single
shot percussion rifle rendered obsolete before the end of the nineteenth
century, but with it he could pick out the eye of a gnat at two hundred
paces. He and his men had taken
longer to catch up with the escaped women as he had been camped on the other
side of the oasis. It was a mutually
convenient arrangement. Neither
he nor the Italians really liked each other
much. Nor did he entirely trust
the Italians. He was fighting
purely for pay. That and the
promise by the Italians that they would drive the British from his
homeland. In recent days, however,
he had come to doubt that the Italians were capable of carrying out their
last promise. His estimate of
the fighting skills of the Italian army had gone steadily down the longer
he associated with it.
The escape of the women Andreotti had captured
the previous day had amused but not surprised
him. Italian security was so
poor it almost seemed that they thought they were in the heart of
Holding his rifle in one hand he fired it
into the air. “Enough,”
he said, spurring his horse forward.
As one the men clustered around the two helpless women turned toward
him.
Featherstone glared at the desert
chieftain. “You were hired
to act as a guide and escort,” he said, “not to give me
orders.”
“The
Bedu do not make war on women,” Al-Majiid
replied. His rifle now unloaded,
he drew his sword and moved closer still, his thirty tribesmen
following. The men holding the
two women moved away, releasing their victims, who immediately scrambled
to their feet. The sheik interposed
his horse between the two women and their would-be
violators. “They are my
prisoners now,” he said.
“You have forfeited your right to
them.”
“By whose authority?” screamed
Featherstone, his face purple with rage.
“By my own authority,” replied
Al-Majiid. “Your conduct
has ended our agreement. From
now on you find your own way. The
Bedu do not fight with cowards.”
Furious, Featherstone could only watch impotently
as the Bedouin horsemen scooped up the two women and rode off into the
night. Beside him, Sturm’s
face showed his disappointment as the woman he had been about to rape was
carried away from him.
Everything had happened so quickly that neither
Larra nor Melissa had any chance to
react. One minute they had been
facing a brutal rape at the hands of Featherstone and his henchman and the
next they were being spirited away into the
night. The question was were
they any better off than they had been before or had they just exchanged
one set of captors for another? The
Bedouin had made no effort whatsoever to untie them and they were completely
surrounded by dozens of horsemen.
Larra had, however, caught enough of the exchange
between the man holding her and
Featherstone. In fluent Arabic
she addressed the Bedu chief.
“Are we captives, to be carried half naked off to your tents
for your pleasure or have you indeed rescued
us?”
Al Majiid was caught off
guard. The woman he held spoke
almost classical Arabic. For
a few seconds he was too stunned to
reply. When he did he reined
in his horse. “You are my
guests,” he said. “I
will untie you so that you may rearrange your
clothing. If you give me your
word not to run away I will not replace the ropes.”
He undid the knots binding Larra’s wrists
and allowed her to slide to the ground.
“So we are still
prisoners,” she said as she tied her shirt
closed. Featherstone had ripped
most of the buttons off and she was forced to tie the torn fabric together
to cover herself.
The rider carrying Melissa had untied her
as well and she was rebuttoning her open
shirt. “What’s going
on?” she asked. “Have
we been rescued or have we just exchanged captors?”
“That’s what I am trying to
determine,” replied Larra.
“I think it might be a bit of both
actually.”
“I am Sheik Abd al-Majiid Ibn
Al-Mansur,” said the desert warrior.
He was a bit indignant that his guests did not seem to trust
him. “I do not make war
on women. You are safe with
me.”
“I am
The sheik
frowned. He did not like to bandy
words with a woman, especially in front of his
men. “If I released you,
the desert would claim your bones in a day, provided the Italians did not
find you first. There are many
dangers for those who are not familiar with the ways of the
Larra sensed that the discussion was at an
end. It was clear that the desert
chieftain was attempting to extend them the courtesy for which Bedouin tribes
were renown. At the same time
she suspected that if she pushed the issue of their freedom she would find
herself bound hand and foot over the back of a
horse. “We will not try
to escape,” she promised. She
and the sheik had been speaking English so there was no need for her to translate
for Melissa.
“Very good,” said
Al-Majiid. “You will ride
with me.” He held out his
hand to help Larra mount. The
Bedouin who had picked up Melissa extended the same courtesy to
her. Thus mounted, the group
of Bedouin and their two “guests” rode off toward the
sunrise.
Larra knew from her preparation for the expedition
that this oasis was not marked on any
map. At the present moment, however,
neither she nor Melissa could have cared
less. The strain of the last
three days was beginning to tell.
In addition to the forced march through the desert when taken prisoner
by Andreotti, they had been deprived of food and water and had gone without
sleep for almost two days. Only
sheer willpower kept them in the saddle as they rode into the
camp. They hardly noticed the
crowd of children and other tribesmen that swarmed around
them. Nor were they cognizant
of the gentle hands of the women who helped them dismount and took them into
the main tent.
Melissa had never felt anything so deliciously
cool. It was as if she was floating
on a cloud beside a tranquil pool of clear
water. Suddenly her eyes fluttered
open. She realized that she must
have fainted. She was in a dark
room… No not a room exactly.
The walls were made of cloth and supported by
poles. It was a
tent. But a very large and luxurious
tent. Bending over her, damp
cloth in hand was a dark-eyed woman.
She said something as Melissa tried to sit up and gently pushed her
back down.
“Relax
Melissa. I think we are safe
for the moment.” Melissa
turned her head. Lying only a
few feet away and tended by another woman was
Larra. The adventuress was propped
up on one elbow and eating from a dish of dates and
figs.
“I don’t remember being brought
here,” said Melissa, embarrassed by her
weakness.
“Not surprising,” said
Larra. “I barely made it
in here myself. We are in the
sheik’s tent. In the
women’s quarters. I don’t
think we’ll be disturbed here.
Only the sheik and his wives and daughters are allowed in this part
of the tent.” At that moment
a small boy ran into the room.
“Oh,” Larra said, in
afterthought. “And small
male children.”
“You got pretty badly sunburned on that
forced march,” Larra continued.
“Your skin is a bit fairer than mine and being Canadian you
haven’t had much experience with such intense sunlight.
But I think you will be
fine in a day or so. In the meantime,
we have to find a way of getting the sheik to help us find the rest of our
party, assuming they were able to get away.”
Melissa
nodded. The whereabouts of Jia
Li, Katie, and Amy had not occurred to her at
all. She felt a bit guilty about
that. Her friends could be anywhere
in the desert, perhaps lost or even
dying. She had not known any
of the three women for very long.
Larra had hired her in
She noted that Larra was no longer dressed
in a shirt and trousers. Instead
she wore the same clothing that the women tending her had on, a long loose
fitting robe that covered her from her neck to her
toes. She then realized that
she was dressed in the same way.
Someone had obviously thought to dress both of them more suitably,
and in the Bedu style.
By now Melissa was quite
hungry. “Any chance of getting
something to eat?” she asked.
Larra
nodded. “Share what I
have,” she said, passing the bowl of dates and figs toward
her. “I’ll order some
more.” She said something
in Arabic and immediately one of the women left the room, returning a few
minutes later with another bowl.
“Go easy on this,” Larra
added. “Too much fruit and
you’ll be heading for the sand dunes more often than you would
like. They’ll probably bring
us something a bit more substantial later on.”
“Right,” Melissa
agreed. The last thing she wanted
was to be running endlessly to the
latrines. She ate carefully,
taking no more than enough to take away her hunger
pangs. The fruit revived her
somewhat, and she was able to sit up.
“What do you think is going to happen to us?” she
asked.
“I wish I knew,” replied
Larra. “I don’t think
the sheik intends us any harm, but his idea of what constitutes proper treatment
for female guests may not run parallel with
ours. Bedouin society is very
much male dominated, even more so than ours. There is no telling what his
plans are for us. We will just
have to wait and see, and if we find ourselves at cross purposes we will
have to bide our time and make our escape.”
“Marriage?” asked
Larra. She tried to remain
calm. It would not do to belittle
the offer Al Majiid had just made.
She probably regarded the offer as the greatest of
honours. The very fact that he
had asked her to marry him rather than simply telling her how it was going
to be was proof that he held her in high
regard. To humiliate him by an
outright rejection would not be wise.
The sheik leaned toward
her. Larra had to admit that
he was an imposing man. Probably
in his early forties, he was strikingly
handsome. Piercingly dark eyes
set above a prominent nose gave him a look of power and
mystery. His neatly trimmed black
beard emphasized his strong jaw line.
Even white teeth gleamed when he
smiled. Tall and athletic, his
presence invoked instant respect.
Larra found herself strongly attracted to him, but she was not ready
for the type of relationship this man
wanted. She tried to think of
a comfortable way out of the dilemma.
Fortunately, she had a perfect out.
“You honour me,” she said, “but
unfortunately I am already married.
And there is also the matter of my
companion. What is to become
of her?”
Al Majiid
frowned. “A husband that
lets so beautiful a desert flower wander by herself
in the desert does not deserve such a
woman. Your marriage is of no
consequence to me. It is the
custom of the Bedu to take their women by force, married or
not.”
“I thought that you said that the Bedu
did not make war on women. Surely
that was not an idle assertion.”
Al Majiid got to his
feet. “It is as I
said. We do not make war on
women. However, it is not
dishonourable to make war on their men and claim a woman as a prize of
war. I would gladly face your
husband in combat and fight him for the right to possess
you.”
That was an interesting
thought. Larra wondered who would
win in a battle between her husband and Al
Majiid. Something stirred in
her as she thought back to Tabin, the Mongol warrior she had loved and
married. That union had produced
her second child, Lin Yao. But
it had been a relationship that did not
last. Her world and Tabin’s
were too different. They had
been thrown together by fate, but she could not live forever in his world
and he would have never understood hers.
They had parted company by mutual
consent. There was still a love
bond between them, but each knew that it was not enough to keep them
together. And so they had parted,
she to return to her world and he to carry on his fight against the invaders
of his country. That had
been five years ago. She still
thought of him, in the same way she thought of her other
lovers. But she didn’t even
know if he was still alive. Since
that time the Japanese had launched a full scale invasion of
But now she was presented with another potential
lover, a very different sort of man from any she had
known. Her other lovers had made
no real demands on her. This
one she knew would be different. A
man like Al Majiid would demand that she conform to Bedouin custom and Islamic
law. She looked the sheik in
the eyes. “I must respectfully
decline your offer. I am not
of your culture and I could not change enough to please
you.”
Al Majiid looked into the incredible violet
eyes of the woman in front of him.
Never had he seen eyes like that. They
radianted beauty and
confidence. This was a
woman who would expect him to treat her as an equal, and he could not do
that. She was right about the
cultural gap between them. It
was one that was far too great to be
crossed. And yet he could not
just let her go. Slowly he extended
his hand, placing it on top of hers.
“I will not harm you,” he said, “but I desire more
than just a passing relationship with you.”
Larra could almost feel the sexual energy
radiating from Al Majid’s body.
She was drawn toward him more powerfully than she would have believed
considering the short time she had known
him. But she kept her head about
her. “And my companion?”
she asked.
“I will release you both,” he said,
caressing her face with his fingertips.
“And I will provide escort anywhere you
desire.”
Larra took his fingers in her mouth and slowly
sucked them one by one. Her loins
burned with a sexual intensity that she had not felt for
months. She knew implicitly that
she could trust this man. As
his mouth met hers she curled her body into him and surrendered herself to
his passion.
Melissa grinned as Larra
entered. “You’ve been
gone longer than expected.”
“Yes,” said
Larra. “The sheik and I
had quite a bit to discuss.”
She swept her hair over her shoulder as she
spoke.
“Looks like your ‘discussion’
was very animated Melissa said.
“Wasn’t your hair in a braid when you
left?”
“Yes,” replied Larra,
flushing. “It seems to have
come loose.” Catching the
look on Melissa’s face she began to
laugh. “Can’t fool
you, can I?’
“Sometimes, but not this time I
think. What was he
like?”
Larra hesitated; she was not in the habit
of discussing her sexual adventures with her
friends. Then she remembered
that she and Melissa had made love within feet of one another during their
visit to arctic
“My face?” retorted
Melissa. “You look like
you just swallowed a dozen canaries.
Now ‘fess up.”
“Well, it was almost worth the trip so
far. The sheik certainly lives
up to the Islamic maxim of giving the woman as much pleasure as the man
enjoys. And I can tell you I
gave him a lot of pleasure.
I’m surprised you couldn’t hear him all the way over
here.”
“I did hear a noise, but I thought it
was a hyena screaming in the night.”
“Very funny,” laughed
Larra. “That was probably
me. He had me going for a good
half hour.”
“So,” continued
Melissa. “What was the best
part? Was he
really…”
“I think I’ll let you use your
imagination,” Larra said turning a deep shade of
crimson. “Some things are
best kept secret.”
“Oh pooh,” chided
Melissa. “You’re such
a lady. Just when it was getting
good. How am I ever expected
to learn anything?”
Larra stopped
laughing. She knew that Melissa
had learned a bit more about sex than she would have
liked. From time to time the
girl would settle into a thoughtful mode that Larra was certain was brought
on by the horrific memories of her first sexual
experience. She still blamed
herself for getting the girl into a situation that had robbed her of her
virginity. She bit her lower
lip. Her adventures had been
costly for all of her companions.
“What’s the matter, Larra?”
asked Melissa, moving to the older woman’s side and touching her
arm.
“Nothing really,” Larra
lied. “I was just wondering
what had become of Katie, Amy, and Jia
Li. I hope they got away and
managed to find their way to the next British
base.”
“Don’t worry,” said Melissa consolingly, “they are big
girls I’m sure they
did just fine.” Secretly,
however, she harbored the same doubts that Larra
had. How were her new friends
doing? Escaping through the desert
was an incredibly daunting undertaking.
She hoped that somehow fortune had smiled on them and they had made
it. Giving Larra’s hand
a squeeze she returned to her sleeping mat and lay
down. Dawn was not far away and
she would need her rest if she and Larra were to make it to the next British
outpost and locate her companions.
She closed her eyes. In
a few minutes she was asleep.
Beside her Larra lay awake.
It was a long time before sleep came to her.