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

proven warrior and statesman and Talal, untried and not even a man. That the boy’s candidature had lasted as long as it had, was mute but powerful testimony to his father’s stature even in death. Without that, even the powerful forces lined up behind him would have been defeated hours earlier and the prize awarded to an exultant Badr.
    It still might.
    Nasir knew suddenly that the time for him to speak had arrived. Seeking a nod from Abdullah, he took a deep breath. Nervous though he was, knowing what rested on his words, nothing showed either on his face or in his voice. He couldn’t afford to show even the smallest sign of hesitancy or uncertainty. Abdul’s totally unexpected release followed by his even less anticipated support for Talal had sharply tilted sentiment in favour of the young claimant, as they’d planned, but not enough to ensure his ratification. Even more importantly, Nasir also knew that the moment had arrived for the largely silent Badr to speak. He knew that once he did, Talal’s cause would collapse. Even as he prepared to speak, Nasir realised that he’d left it too late as he saw Badr also gesture his own wish to address the gathering. He knew that if Badr caught the attention of Abdullah he would, by virtue of his age, be allowed primacy and invited to speak before he himself.
    Then fate – or pre-planned manipulation, many were never quite sure – intervened. Jabir, a brother sitting next to Badr, touched his arm as though wishing to speak to him and thus distracted the claimant’s attention for a micro-second. This, allied to Abdullah’s unusual failure to notice his nephew’s now slightly belated indication that he wished to speak, meant that he acknowledged Nasir’s signal, an opportunity which the young prince took quickly, all nervousness forgotten,
    “Brethren, uncles, brothers, cousins. As is right, amongst you, I’ve remained silent until now. Which, while frustrating,” he added, his wry humour raising a laugh, “was also of immense value as I listened all the more closely to what older, and no doubt wiser, heads than mine had to say on what is the saddest and most momentous occasion that I’ve ever had to live through since I began sitting with you in this, our family council. Saddest that we are without our kinsman, Fouad...” He paused, fearing his voice would betray him.
    Firyal and Zahirah listened intently, their eyes missing nothing. They saw his anguish and admired the way he mastered it and continued with what he wished, and needed, to say.
    “... And momentous because to have lost possibly the greatest emir Narash has ever had would be grievous at any time. But for it to happen now, during what are perhaps some of the most dangerous times we have ever faced, could well cause some of us to wonder how we will surmount our difficulties, survive the times, without Fouad.”
    Pausing, his black hooded eyes, so like Fouad’s, raked the room, gauging it’s mood. “Some, no doubt, feel it’s impossible without this particular one of our kin assuming the leadership, yet others would have us believe that another is the only one who can lead us in this, one of our darkest hours. Yet to say that is to deny Fouad his greatest legacy – Talal. Yes,” he agreed, seeing many eyes move automatically to the boy sitting beside him, “but more, much more than Talal himself.” Seeing looks of puzzlement on many faces, he paused for a moment and then continued. “We all know what has happened in previous times when our Emir has died. Brother has fought brother, uncle has fought nephew, cousin fought against cousin. All became involved in the blood-letting whether they wished to or not. We were blessed that Fouad’s own succession was trouble-free and bloodless, by the good-fortune that he was with his father when he was killed and other contenders were scattered far and wide.”
    Firyal, sitting behind the screen, reflected that had she been both able to speak and wished