Read Online Blue Damask by Annmarie Banks - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Annmarie Banks
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gave her a dangerous look. “You claim to be free of ignorance, but you are naïve to a fault.”
Elsa felt her cheek twitch. She could not argue. It seemed reasonable when she said it. That is how she would have solved the problem. “Granted,” she admitted. “Would you like to explain what you think will happen when we get to Damascus?”
“What will happen is that I will be dressed in flowing robes and topped with a veil. I will be mounted on a handsome Arab stallion and paraded to the settlement of my natural father. The French and English government representatives will be there in their armored cars dressed for a northern European summer instead of for the desert sun. They will redden and wilt in the heat while I make a speech that no one will believe about entente .”
“And then?” She nearly whispered.
“And then,” his voice became bitter, “The French and English will rape the land of its oil and turn my father’s people from proud tribe who make a meager living from sand and wind into beggars and thieves. When my treachery is discovered I will be unceremoniously murdered by any number of cousins.”
He didn’t seem to be particularly troubled by this form of death. Elsa put her pencil down. “What kind of relationship did your father, I mean the previous Lord Sonnenby, have with the tribesmen? Is there a reason this…Turk…tried to kill you now? Before your treachery is discovered?”
“My father brought all manner of luxuries with him, horses, women, gold, olives and fruit from Jerusalem. He flooded them with goods he purchased for very little and in return they allowed British engineers and geologists on their land.”
Elsa leaned forward. “Why cannot this arrangement continue?”
“France and England want it all. They have made it impossible for individuals to negotiate with the locals. Now only corporations and governments have the rights to the oil. There is a swath on both sides of the German railway now under negotiation due to the end of the war. It is extremely complicated.”
“So the French and British would drive the natives away from the oil fields? All of them, Turk and Arab?”
“Or massacre them. It is what happened in Africa, as with every colonial system, or do the Austrians not read history?”
She shot him a nasty look. “You accuse me of naiveté .”
He stood up like he would pace the cabin, but sat back down again, as there was not enough room for even one good step and a turn. He stood again and then sat hunched over. Elsa picked up her pencil but kept a wary eye on him. His eyes were no longer focused and he seemed to be consumed with a sudden anxiety. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and bent his head low over them.
“Mr. Sinclair. Please.” She looked at his swollen knuckles. “You could just say ‘no’ to them.”
“And there you are with a simple answer,” he answered, looking up at her through his hair. “Can one man say ‘no’ to two governments? Governments drunk with recent victory in a brutal war?”
She frowned, “Of course. You have free will. You can refuse.”
He curled his upper lip. “I think women are sheltered from the ugliest parts of politics. My free will has been taken from me.”
She thought about this for a while and he sat in silence as well. It was true that politics did not interest her at all. It never occurred to her that the halls of government might not run the way her father ran his brewery. She thought about what she had read in the papers during the war. She turned frightened eyes on Lord Sonnenby.
“What…what will they do to you if you refuse?”
He gave her a bitter laugh. “What is the worst thing any
Elsa felt her cheek twitch. She could not argue. It seemed reasonable when she said it. That is how she would have solved the problem. “Granted,” she admitted. “Would you like to explain what you think will happen when we get to Damascus?”
“What will happen is that I will be dressed in flowing robes and topped with a veil. I will be mounted on a handsome Arab stallion and paraded to the settlement of my natural father. The French and English government representatives will be there in their armored cars dressed for a northern European summer instead of for the desert sun. They will redden and wilt in the heat while I make a speech that no one will believe about entente .”
“And then?” She nearly whispered.
“And then,” his voice became bitter, “The French and English will rape the land of its oil and turn my father’s people from proud tribe who make a meager living from sand and wind into beggars and thieves. When my treachery is discovered I will be unceremoniously murdered by any number of cousins.”
He didn’t seem to be particularly troubled by this form of death. Elsa put her pencil down. “What kind of relationship did your father, I mean the previous Lord Sonnenby, have with the tribesmen? Is there a reason this…Turk…tried to kill you now? Before your treachery is discovered?”
“My father brought all manner of luxuries with him, horses, women, gold, olives and fruit from Jerusalem. He flooded them with goods he purchased for very little and in return they allowed British engineers and geologists on their land.”
Elsa leaned forward. “Why cannot this arrangement continue?”
“France and England want it all. They have made it impossible for individuals to negotiate with the locals. Now only corporations and governments have the rights to the oil. There is a swath on both sides of the German railway now under negotiation due to the end of the war. It is extremely complicated.”
“So the French and British would drive the natives away from the oil fields? All of them, Turk and Arab?”
“Or massacre them. It is what happened in Africa, as with every colonial system, or do the Austrians not read history?”
She shot him a nasty look. “You accuse me of naiveté .”
He stood up like he would pace the cabin, but sat back down again, as there was not enough room for even one good step and a turn. He stood again and then sat hunched over. Elsa picked up her pencil but kept a wary eye on him. His eyes were no longer focused and he seemed to be consumed with a sudden anxiety. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and bent his head low over them.
“Mr. Sinclair. Please.” She looked at his swollen knuckles. “You could just say ‘no’ to them.”
“And there you are with a simple answer,” he answered, looking up at her through his hair. “Can one man say ‘no’ to two governments? Governments drunk with recent victory in a brutal war?”
She frowned, “Of course. You have free will. You can refuse.”
He curled his upper lip. “I think women are sheltered from the ugliest parts of politics. My free will has been taken from me.”
She thought about this for a while and he sat in silence as well. It was true that politics did not interest her at all. It never occurred to her that the halls of government might not run the way her father ran his brewery. She thought about what she had read in the papers during the war. She turned frightened eyes on Lord Sonnenby.
“What…what will they do to you if you refuse?”
He gave her a bitter laugh. “What is the worst thing any
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