“Twenty one.”
Sophia shifted her gaze sideways, easily able to look at her companion. The camel continued on its course. “And you want to leave the tribe?”
Saliyah’s eyes flicked to Sophia’s and then she looked straight ahead, her expression one of stone. “Yes.”
“But Laith does not wish this?” Sophia pushed, trying to understand what her husband wouldn’t speak to her about.
Saliyah’s laugh lacked humour. “He has threatened to imprison my parents if I leave.”
Sophia drew in a harsh breath. “Why?”
“Because our numbers can’t keep dropping. Because if my entire generation chooses to leave the tribe, or worse, run away, there will be no one left to bring new children into this way of life. He is only trying to protect our people from the incursion of that.” She jabbed a thumb towards the desert, beyond which were the cities and the future. “The twenty first century is suffocating us all.”
The image Saliyah painted was poigna
nt. “The twenty first century is a reality to be grappled with,” Sophia said slowly, thoughtfully. “Speaking as a person, not as Sheikha, I cannot see Laith – or anyone – can stand in the doorway of change and hope to stop it.”
Saliya’s dark eyes sparked with Sophia’s. “Nor can I.” She sighed. “I do not want the tribe to fall apart. I do not want my generation’s legacy to be this – our elderly alone out here, to fend for themselves and to live out the ancient ways of our people with no hope of those rites continuing. But I want to study. I have always wanted to learn and understand. I was fortunate. My father procured books for me, lots of books, from a trader who we cross paths with three times a year. On each occasion, father would swap what books we had, and more would be brought.”
Sophia’s smile was warm. “I also love to read.”
“There is no greater pleasure,” Saliyah sighed.
Sophia nodded, thinking of how many times in her life she’d escaped into books, fallen into their pages to avoid the reality that surrounded her.
“As I grew older, he began to bring school books. Texts. Long papers and dissertations. I think he saw that my mind was enquiring and wanted to foster that in some way. A year ago, he brought an exam from a university. He and my father argued, but the trader was adamant. My mother too. They persuaded my father to let me at least sit the paper, to complete what I could of it.”
“And?”
Sophia was so hot, her cheeks bright pink. Saliyah reached into the bag that hung on the camel’s side and pulled out a flat-shaped bottle. “Here.” She passed it over; Sophia took it gratefully.
Cool water was within. She drank and replaced the lid, handing it back to Saliyah.
“How did you do on the test?”
“The university said it was a perfect score. They couldn’t believe I’ve never had any formal education. They offered me a place, a full scholarship, with board.” She turned to Sophia, her expression overflowing with emotion. “I’m terrified to go, your highness. I have no idea what a city is like – the trader told me it is noisier than when all of the night birds cry together, and never ending – but I know I have to do this.”
Sophia nodded slowly. “And Laith is determined that you will not go?”
“Yes.” Saliyah’s voice showed sadness. “And I cannot leave here knowing that my parents will suffer.”
“Of course you can’t.” She ran the palm of her hand over the camel’s neck, lost in thought. “My husband is progressive. I’m confident he’ll make Laith see sense.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will,” Sophia promised, her eyes showing determination. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“What do you mean, you do not know where she is?” Malik glared at the servants who’d been assigned to his wife, his expression one of fire and ice.
“She was resting!” The first proclaimed, not meeting Malik’s furious gaze. “And did not want to be disturbed.”
A muscle jerked in Malik’s jaw as he tried to constrain his temper. All afternoon, he’d butted heads with Laith and now, to return to his tent and find his wife lost? “We are in the desert,” he said with cold derision. “She has no knowledge of this place, of our ways, of this climate. There are eagles circling the outer reaches. Desert dogs that will tear a person from limb to limb. And you let her wander off?”
The Sheikh had never lost his temper before. His servants were struck dumb.
“Find her,” he roared. And then, “Power up the helicopter. I’ll find her myself.”
He strode from the tent just as a little girl from the community came running up, speaking rapidly and in a childish way that made comprehension difficult. “Look!” She pointed, her finger jerking. In the distance, Malik could see two camels loping slowly towards them.