"A servant has stolen off into the night," Majeed told him.
Mohammed looked at his brother with uncertainty.
"Is that all?" he asked.
Majeed shook his head and explained further.
"No, no. If it were only she, it would not matter at all. But there is another with her."
Majeed knew nothing of Dunya's lover, Adib, and assumed incorrectly that the two women must be traveling alone and therefore appearing conspicuous to anyone who might see them.
"I see," Mohammed replied as he glanced around the tent. It was a large, spacious one, suited to comfort and elegance. He watched his younger brother stride across the room, becoming more agitated.
"This other. Was it a male servant? A lover to the servant girl who left?" Mohammed inquired.
"No, No,” Majeed explained, shaking his head. “A precious jewel. A most rare jewel here in the hot, dead desert. A goddess in female form, tempting men to taste her."
Mohammed looked curiously over at his brother, wondering if he had started drinking the sweet wines earlier in the day than usual.
"I need to be alone," said Majeed as he stalked out of the tent, leaving Mohammed to stare after him.
Majeed spent the rest of the day in seclusion, drinking and commiserating over the loss of his found treasure while the treasure was busy making her getaway.
Adib and Dunya were true to their word. They helped Katharine travel to the coast, where they bought appropriate clothes necessary for their journey. Together, the three booked passage on board the next ship leaving port. Once aboard the ship, Katharine could breathe a sigh of relief.
Soon she would be home, and all of this would be a distant memory. She grieved at losing Mohammed, but knew in her heart that they were too different to have ever made a life together.
Perhaps, since she had experienced such joy and pleasure in Mohammed's arms, she would be able to marry a titled lord without feeling the loss of her freedom and independence. She had taken her freedom for granted and now knew what it was to live without it.
***
Mohammed cornered Rana late in the day. He wasn't sure how to address the matter of his brother and he was confused. What jewel had his brother been speaking about? What goddess? Had it been a slave of great beauty from a neighboring tribe? He thought Majeed's behavior to be very strange.
"My sister," Mohammed greeted her as he entered her tent. The sun was setting low in the distance.
"Mohammed," Rana said. She motioned for him to sit next to her.
"I am concerned for my brother," Mohammed continued. Though most men would not deign to speak to a woman regarding another man's state of mind, he trusted and respected Rana's judgment.
"In what regard?" she asked.
"He speaks of a jewel, a goddess stolen in the night by the servant. I fear for his mind, sister," he continued. Mohamed looked to her for clarity.
Rana paled as Mohammed spoke, and she glanced away from him to try to hide her tears. Mohammed grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
"What is it? Is my brother losing his mind? Tell me! I must know!" he demanded.
"No, he isn't losing his mind,” she said. “Far from it. But I am losing a husband."
"Rana, please. You both speak in riddles," Mohammed said. His handsome bronzed face showed concern for his family and their strange talk.
"Majeed speaks of a woman."
"A woman? Just a woman?" Mohammed said carelessly, not realizing that Rana was in pain.
"No, my brother. If she were a mere woman, she would not have caused such torment between us. She is unlike any woman you have ever seen."
Mohammed was growing irritated by this conversation. He had come to his brother's camp to distract himself from his missing princess, and here they sat discussing a servant's escape and some woman who went with her. She was probably a servant woman who looked like Yasmeen and thus was causing problems for the homely but sweet Rana. But then, Mohammed had never known Majeed to be overly fond of women. He had married and produced children, but sex had never been important to him.