Ùردة اÙصØراء
A Desert Rose
Prologue
They all saw the same sky. Painted with the colours of fire; red and orange.
A signification of the falling of the sun from the heavens, causing a darkness to surround the desert.
Uniformed warriors covered the mountains, ready to attack on command.
Only a word stood between the chaos waiting to come, and only a word could stop it.
Devastation was all that filled her senses, heart thumping from fear.
The siege had gone on for too long, her people were suffering.
"Laila." The mumbling of her name forced her eyes away from the open window and into the candle lit room.
Her handmaiden, Wafiyyah, had entered. A torn expression worn on her face as she looked to the ground.
"They wait for you," the young girl whispered. Laila stepped away from the balcony, approaching her closest friend.
"How far would you go to save your family?" She asked, watching as the handmaiden struggled under her desperate gaze.
"Would you risk your life?" Laila probed, hopelessly sighing when Wafiyyah reluctantly nodded.
The embrace was sudden.
"Then my life is yours." The princess murmured, desperately holding onto her companion.
Their walk towards the meeting room was hauntingly slow.
Halls which were once full of life now fell silent and bleak. As though even the walls knew they would lose their light.
On this day, she would face a stranger to her eyes.
Her own blood, yet he had left her abandoned for too long.
Abu-Al-Khayr, the most respected sheikh of Al-Shujae.
And also, her father.
Laila secured a veil over her face as she neared the room which held all the elders of the tribe.
Their enemy had made an offer which only she had the power to accept, an expected proposition from the most powerful in Arabia.
After years of studying war and peace, Laila knew she could only be used as a pawn.
Although, her books did fail to describe the inner devastation of the victim.
It was a first for her to be invited to a meeting. A gathering usually only reserved for the elites of the small tribe. Anxiety shackled her as she nodded to the maid, allowing the door to open.
Fingers clenched, Laila silently stepped inside as the chatter quietened.
Speak when spoken to. Do not look up.
Silence.
She blinked, eyes bonded to the ground. Her steps were small, approaching a designated position for her behind a sheer curtain.
Only after taking a seat on the plush pillow, did Laila finally glance up to the room which had remained forbidden till today.
It was quite big.
The floors were covered with colourful rugs, delicate pottery dotted in the corners. The tribe elders sat on pillows similar to hers, forming a circle with their leader at the centre.
"My lady, thank you for joining us," said one, others following him with a nod of their heads.
Laila bowed slightly before glancing at her father, overcome with the sadness on his face.
An unspoken apology hung in the air.
I was gone too long.
I missed you.
Or perhaps she had misread.
"The only way the Al-Muharibun will not attack us is if a promise is made. A promise of marriage." All eyes fell on Abu Al-Khayr as he expectedly stood from his position.
"My daughter shall not marry into Al-Muharibun, that is something which I have already cleared." Powerful as he sounded, his words were met with blatant rejection.
"My sheikh, it is the only way to guarantee the protection of the tribe, Al-Muharibun stand ready to attack at dawn if we do not abide by their wishes," an elder tried to reason with his leader.
"We must think of this positively, if this marriage is successful we shall be under the protection of Al-Muharibun, the strongest in Arabia!" It was followed with mumbles of agreement.
Their arguments grew louder, voices beginning to speak over each other.
Laila contained herself, watching as the ministers began to stand in retaliation.
Her father was restless, glaring in anger whilst his people objected to him.
He was older, the wrinkles around his eyes now visible.
Then again, she did not remember him very much from her childhood.
He was often gone.
Abu-Al-Khayr had never been able to cope after the death of his wife, the only woman he had ever loved.
Her mother.
And what had taken her life?
The coming of another's ... Laila's life.
Perhaps this was the inevitable retribution.
"I will marry."
What more could she give?
Her voice was loud, only a woman's voice which dared to quieten the room of prideful men.
Heads turned to her as she met their gazes, affirming her position.
She would accept.
"If protecting the tribe means marrying into the Al-Muharibun then I shall gladly do so, without regret."
Her father stood, distraught.
"What on earth are you saying?" He asked hopelessly, as though Al-Shujae stood a single chance against the greatest tribe of Arabia.
As though years of war had not already haunted him, weakened him.
"If I have the power to save this tribe then shall I do so. I agree with their proposition."
Abu-Al-Khayr shook his head, hearing her yet unable to respond.
The ministers were quiet, till one nodded.
"If you agree with this, then I shall stand by your decision."
Others agreed in unison, until it was time for her father's approval.
The room silenced.
"This meeting is dismissed." He rose, leaving in haste.
Laila found herself following him.
"Baba!" she shouted, calling after her father as he continued to march towards the central courtyard.
A small fountain stood between them when he abruptly turned.
"Do you know what you have just said? Do you know what marrying into the Al-Muharibun means?!" His words held an anger which she had not heard before.
It was soundless before Laila finally shook her head.
"Absent kings lead to weak kingdoms." She answered, unable to control her tears.
"Were the battles outside our walls more important than us?"
Than me?
"Laila-"
"I know of no other way to protect you!"
Abu Al-Khayr crossed the distance between them, embracing his young daughter.
"That is not your responsibility." He broke before her.
"I have been given the opportunity to save us. Will you take it from me?" She held onto him as he wept in regret.
"You remain to me the most precious gem. How could I agree to abandon you?"
In front of Laila no longer stood a strong sheikh but rather, a helpless father.
"We no longer have a choice."
Nothing was said, time stood still as they revelled in silent tears. There was truly no choice.
Would the people not riot if they knew their chance at peace was taken?
A cool breeze suddenly sauntered through the night air as Abu Al-Khayr sighed in hopelessness.
Fate was inevitable indeed.