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Under the heavy weight of his empty eyes, she knew. Gutted. Devastated. Angry.
And her breath caught. He’d been angry the night she’d met him. Because that was the day he’d learned the truth? God, he’d had good reason. No wonder he’d been so resentful of Atiyah, charged with the responsibility of a child of a father who’d as good as abandoned him three decades before.
She looked out over the surface of the water and the ripples that sparkled under a hot sun. ‘Why would any man do such a thing to his child?’
Rashid swiped at an insect on his legs. ‘Apparently he was protecting me,’ he said. ‘Protecting both of us.’ And he told her of his father being chosen as the Emir’s successor, the plot to dispose of both father and child and the exile and separation that had followed.
‘And he never once contacted you in all that time.’
‘No.’
‘So you were brought up by strangers?’
He leaned back on his elbows. ‘My houseparents were my guardians. A good couple, I suppose, but I never felt I belonged. I was never part of their family, so much as a responsibility.’
It explained so much about the man he was. No wonder he felt so ill-equipped to care for a child. ‘What a hard, cold way to grow up.’
‘It wasn’t so bad, I guess. What they might have lacked in affection, they made up for in instilling discipline. I was the perfect student in the classroom or on the field.’
Discipline, yes. But no love. No warmth. And her heart went out to the little boy who’d grown up alone and now had the unexpected weight of a country on his shoulders. ‘Will you stay, do you think? Will you become the new Emir?’
Rashid sighed. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said, being honest. ‘My father chose not to tell me any of this—I think he valued his freedom in the end, and he wasn’t about to force me into a role he saw himself having escaped. Either that, or he thought one attempt on my life was enough.’
‘Would it be dangerous?’
‘Kareem says not. Apparently the longer Malik ruled, the more of a buffoon he became, interested in satisfying only his own appetites. Everyone knows the last three decades have been wasted. The people want change.’
Rashid stared into the middle distance. Why was he telling her all this? But somehow putting it into words helped. Somehow her questions helped. Would he stay?
Qajaran needed help, that much he’d learned these last few days, but was he the man who could turn the country’s fortunes around? Zoltan would be here tomorrow to advise him, but there would be no need for that if he decided to walk away.
Could he simply walk away?
And once again his eyes were drawn to the line of mountains that lay across the sands, and he thought about the words Kareem had spoken in an office in Sydney what seemed like a lifetime ago, words that had made no sense to him at the time, words that now played in his mind to the drum beats of his heart.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked as he rose to his feet and walked towards the sands that lay beyond the fringe of green.
‘Just something I need to do,’ he said, before stepping from the grass and onto the sands, feeling the crunch of the thin surface give way to the timeless hot grains of Qajaran’s sands beneath. Anyone watching would think him mad—Tora must certainly think him mad—but his heart was thumping as he walked, feeling the grains work between his toes and scour his soles. And when he’d walked far enough, he stopped and leaned down to pick up a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers while warm desert air filled his lungs and the breeze tugged at his shirt, whispering the secrets of the ages. He turned his head to listen and found his gaze looking across the desert plains, back to where the blue mountains rose in the distance, and, with a juddering bolt of sensation, he saw the colour of his eyes in the distant range and he felt it then—the heart of Qajaran beating in his soul.
And he knew he was part of this place.
He was home.
His skin still tingling with the enormity of the revelation, he turned back towards the oasis. He was staying. He knew that now, and he wanted to tell Tora, to share it with her because somehow he knew she would understand.
He frowned, because there were more people gathered there where he had left her. They bowed as he drew closer, calling blessings upon him and wishing him well, their eyes full of hope, while Tora stood there in their midst, her beautiful face alight with a smile that warmed his newly found soul.
The children were less hesitant than their parents. They ran up to him, wanting to touch his hand, and he knew he didn’t deserve this kind of reception, and he didn’t know if he would make a good leader, but the people of Qajaran needed a good leader, and he would try.
