* * *
They drove for ages, until the road faded, until the sand rose higher, turning a richer golden brown, as though the sun were closer here, baking it like bread. And in spite of the care that Zayn had taken with her head covering earlier, she was starting to get worried again about the possibility of him leaving her out in the middle of nowhere. Paranoid, possibly, but she supposed not entirely without merit, seeing as he had already brought her to his country by force. Well, partial force, partial bribery. She still wasn’t certain whether or not he would’ve chased her if she had tried to run off, but she would’ve found herself jobless, and that was threat enough.
Just when she was starting to get truly nervous, she saw a spiral of smoke rising up from behind a dune.
“That would be them.” Zayn’s deep voice answered the question she hadn’t even been able to ask yet.
“They really are quite a ways out here. What happens if there’s some kind of medical emergency?”
“Often it isn’t a happy ending. Though now they have satellite phones, and they do often use the rescue services available in Surhaadi.”
“They use the medical services, even though they don’t acknowledge the government?”
“Most of the time. Though there are some elders who refuse to do so. I prefer that they do.”
“That’s very decent of you. I think there are a lot of leaders who wouldn’t like that. Who would say that it was the cost of their stubbornness.”
She looked over at him, at his strong profile, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “Yes, I suppose that is the case. But then, we all make decisions, often they are not wholly bad, but not wholly good, either. They want to preserve their heritage, and I understand that. And then, when tragedy strikes, often it becomes apparent that remaining separate can cause damage. But there is no real right or wrong answer in this. And I do not fault them for wanting help when they are desperate. I know what it’s like to change because of circumstances. I know what it’s like to see the error of your ways when it’s too late.”
This was a different side of him, the strong ruler versus the modern-day marauder who had taken her from New York. The man who served an entire populace, not just his family. This was the history of his country personified, and she could see now why he had wanted her to come out here.
The car maneuvered slowly over the top of the dune, and the encampment came into view. Nestled on the edge of an oasis that had been invisible until this very moment. The sun shone on the water, the still surface reflected everything like a mirror. Tents were erected along the embankment, children running in circles around them. There were cooking fires already started, clothes hanging across lines, blowing in the breeze.
“I’m hoping we’ll receive a warm welcome.”
“Do you think there’s a chance we won’t?” she asked.
“I never take anything for granted, especially out here. Because out here, it does not matter that I am the sheikh. Not to them, and not to the desert. We are simply guests, myself as much as you. Though they are familiar with me.”
He brought the car to a stop, and turned the engine off. They were still a great distance away from the encampment, but she imagined this was part of not seeming as though he was storming the camp.
He got out and she followed suit, her feet sinking into the sand. She adjusted her weight, and shook the remaining sand out of her pant leg. “You almost need snowshoes to walk on this.”
“Or practice,” he said.
“Don’t sound so amused. I don’t often make a habit of going to the beach, but this is kind of an extreme version of that. And I’m unpracticed as it is.”
“Too late, habibti, I am amused. It cannot be helped.”
“Perhaps I should simply slide down the dune, and make a grand entrance.”
“I would prefer if you did not. But I am not in total control of your actions, neither do I pretend to be.”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. I think you fancy yourself entirely in control of my actions.”
“I am not so foolish as to think that I could control you entirely.”
She shook her head, her hair hemmed in by the head covering. “Good. I would hate for you to be so deceived. Because as we discussed previously, I am nothing if not determined.”
“I believe the word you used earlier was stubborn.”
“They’re the same, aren’t they?”
“I imagine for the purposes of dealing with you, they are about the same.”
“I’m flattered to hear you say that.”
She would’ve liked nothing more than to walk on ahead of him, gliding gracefully over the surface of the sand, but for several reasons that wasn’t going to happen. One, because she was incapable of gliding across the surface of the sand, and two, because she was not going into the encampment alone.
Fortunately, Zayn took the lead, and she was able to follow behind him. It all felt very medieval, her walking in his shadow. But then, in the moment, there was very little she could do about it.
She was quite annoyed to see that he had no issues walking across the sand at all. It made her feel clunky, it made her feel disadvantaged. And she hated all of that. Yes, it was a little bit silly to be worrying about it out here in the middle of nowhere. To be worried about the fact that she looked so out of place, but it was ingrained in her that that was a bad thing, and she could hardly change her feelings on the subject now.
When they got to the bottom of the dune, he paused, and turned back to face her. “Wait here. I’m going to go forward and see if they are in a mind to receive visitors, and I do not want you near me just in case.”
“Just in case what?
“As I said, I don’t take anything in the desert for granted.”
She watched Zayn walk ahead, fear tightening her stomach and she wasn’t sure why. For herself, obviously. But then, she could always make a run for the dune, and for the vehicle. But she feared that it wasn’t only concern for herself that had her feeling on edge. But concern for Zayn. And he did not deserve her concern, all things considered.
But it was hard to wish the loss of a ruler on a nation, especially when the ruler appeared to be as caring as Zayn was. Yes, on a personal level she had found him difficult to deal with, but whenever he spoke of his country, whenever he spoke of his people, he seemed ideal. He was even willing to marry to further things for his people, and how could she fault him for that?
How could a nation ask for a stronger leader? For one who was willing to sacrifice himself on a greater level? Was there a greater level other than death to sacrifice yourself on? She doubted it.