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‘I have to get up,’ he told her.
Maggie loathed this morning.
He climbed out of bed and took a drink, and Maggie watched as he pulled on a robe and belted it. She said nothing.
Neither did Ilyas.
He walked through the corridors and stepped outside the desert abode.
The wind had dropped, but there was the chaos it had left in its wake and he looked over to where some of the smaller tents had collapsed; one of the workers was rounding up some horses that had run loose. Ilyas could only imagine the chaos back in the city.
He wanted to return to bed—for the first time in his life, he wanted to turn his back on the many things that needed to be done. But he had been raised with duty as his priority. First he prayed, and then he made contact with the palace to find out how his people had fared during the nights he had been gone.
‘You are needed back here,’ Mahmoud informed him. ‘There is a lot of damage and there are people missing.’
And that could not wait for midday.
He spoke with Mahmoud for several moments about all that was going on and then he asked another question.
‘Have you spoken with Hazin about the threats?’ Ilyas asked. He believed now that nothing had gone on.
So certain was Ilyas that there were no tapes, the question was almost an afterthought.
‘I have,’ Mahmoud said.
‘And?’ Ilyas checked, anxious to get back to Maggie, and to spend together the little time alone that they had before the helicopter came.
‘He has asked that we submit to their demands.’
‘Hazin said that?’ Ilyas fought to keep his voice and breathing even, yet he could hear the blood pulsing in his ears at Mahmoud’s unexpected response—he had been certain,certainthat there were no tapes. ‘What exactly did he say?’
But Mahmoud pointed out that it should not be discussed over the phone. ‘It would be better if we speak face to face.’
* * *
As Ilyas prayed, Maggie headed back to her own area to wash. She smiled at the maiden who was waiting for her when she came out.
There was a pale lilac robe on the bed and the maiden coiled and loosely tied Maggie’s hair.
‘Thank you,’ Maggie said, but as the maiden went to help her dress Maggie declined.
Once alone, though, Maggie struggled with the tiny buttons at the back, but finally she had it on and stood and looked at her reflection in the huge mirror. For such a sleepless night she looked well groomed. She tried to fathom all that had happened.
Not so much the sex, more all that she had told him.
All they had shared.
Maggie heard the sound of bells and knew from the footsteps that it was him.
She didn’t turn around; somehow she knew he bore bad news and she stood looking in the mirror as he came and stood behind her.
‘The helicopter is being sent for us now,’ he told her.
‘I thought we had the morning.’
‘There is a lot of damage from the simoom.’
She should feel guilty for being so shallow, Maggie thought, but her head was too full of them to allow room for other emotions.
