Master of the Desert

It was a scrawled page that told of unbearable loneliness—of no one for Helena to talk to, or to share her fears with, and a child stolen away from her, a blow that no deed of land could ever soften.

Money, land and jewels, in however much abundance, had done nothing to ease a young girl’s desolation, Antonia could see, and for a moment she felt numb. Then Antonia realised her main reaction to this page from her mother’s diary was frustration, because it was too late for her to sort out her mother’s life. She could only be glad her father had found Helena, and that they had been able to share a few months of happiness together before her mother’s untimely death.

Realising she had scrunched the piece of paper in her hand, she carefully straightened it out again and put it with the other treasure she had found at the fort—the broken chain, with the tiny, diamond-studded heart. She would rather have these small things than all the riches in Ra’id’s treasury, Antonia mused, because the broken heart and the note scrawled in the childish hand were in many ways her mother’s true legacy. And if she didn’t learn from them, she really would let her mother down, and the note would have been written for nothing.

Ra’id was with the horses when she came out of the tent with the intention of confronting him about her discovery. ‘You’ve saddled up,’ she said with surprise.

‘I have something to do—for your benefit,’ he assured her.

Ra’id was smiling, but she sensed that once again he was the autocratic ruler who had made some plan without consulting her. ‘Don’t I have any say in this?’

‘You’ll be quite safe here. Though you can’t see them, there are security guards everywhere.’

‘Oh, good…’ That was supposed to make her feel reassured?

‘Trust me—I’ll be back within the hour.’

The gap between her belief they had grown closer and the true situation had just widened into a gulf, Antonia realised. She loved Ra’id and could never say no to him, but as she watched him ride away she thought that perhaps the time had come to do that.

No? Antonia had said no to his suggestions for her immediate future? They were in the pavilion, facing each other, and the atmosphere between them was as tense as it had ever been. He had offered her the sun, the earth and the moon, and Antonia had turned him down. ‘I don’t think you heard me,’ he said as she stood with her back turned to him. ‘I will have the fortress repaired and refurbished to your specifications. You will have your own palace in the capital, and I’ll open a bank account for you with more money in it than you could ever spend. And you can spend that money on anything you want.’

‘Subject to your approval?’

‘Well, obviously I’ll have a say in it!’ he exclaimed impatiently.

‘A say in it?’ she echoed, spinning round. ‘You’ll choose. You’ll pay. You’ll install me in one of your fabulous palaces and visit me as and when you wish?’

There was no mention of their child, Antonia realised, hoping the terror didn’t show in her eyes.

‘I thought you wanted that?’

She did want to be with Ra’id, more than anything on earth, but not like this. If she agreed to his terms she was effectively giving over her life for Ra’id to control. He would hold the purse strings, the decision strings, and as he already held the strings to her heart that was one string too many. But how easy it would be to become dependent on him, a man so compelling and powerful; he exerted some hypnotic spell over her. It would be madness for her to fall under that spell, however much she wanted to. She must remain free to make her own decisions, even if sometimes she got it wrong. First off, she had to know his intentions regarding their baby so she could counter them if she had to. ‘What about our child, Ra’id? Where will our baby live?’

For the first time since she’d known him, Ra’id’s gaze flickered.

‘No,’ she repeated firmly, closing her fingers around her mother’s note.

‘You’re being unreasonable, Antonia.’

‘If it’s unreasonable to defend my unborn child, then I am unreasonable,’ she agreed.

‘Defend the baby against me—its father?’ he demanded incredulously.

‘No, Ra’id, I’m defending our child against the past—a past that still seems to rule us both.’

‘What are you saying, Antonia?’

‘When were you going to show me this?’ She produced the single sheet of handwritten despair that she had found by his robe-pocket and had the small satisfaction of seeing Ra’id reach inside his robe to check that it had gone.