enormous oasis with palm trees and a pool the size of a small lake, plus many, many tents, horses, camels, herds of goats, and several Land Rovers. The Scorpion landed, and as Kate Rashid got out, people surged forward, not only warriors with rifles but women and children. Several rifles were fired into the air, children cried out in delight, and the crowd milled around, trying to touch her.
The warriors pushed them away and formed two lines. Two young boys ran forward, each with a robe, and helped Kate and Rupert into them.
She raised an arm to the warriors, fist clenched. "My brothers."
They roared their approval and more rifles were fired into the air. She led the way to where a huge awning had been prepared, with a carpet and cushions to sit on. Two of the sub-chieftains squatted cross-legged beside her and engaged in a lively conversation in Arabic. Rupert lit a cigarette and was served thick sweet coffee in a metal cup, and seed cakes. The two old chieftains were also busy with coffee, and many people sat and watched.
"Unbelievable," Rupert said. "I've never seen anything like it."
"These are my people, Rupert."
"And yet this is only half of you. When you took me down to Dauncey the other month, the villagers were just the same, in a strange way. Dammit, when we went in the Dauncey Arms for a drink, everybody who was sitting down stood up."
"That's because they are also my people, and they're as dear to me as those here. Dauncey roots go deep, Rupert, and they're your roots, too."
"Something to live up to, all that," Rupert said, and somewhat to his own surprise, realized that he meant it.
Women appeared with various dishes: rice, lentils, plenty of unleavened bread, and a hot stew.
"What the hell is in that?" Rupert asked.
"Goat, darling, and don't say no or you'll give offense."
"Dear God," Rupert said.
"No knives and forks. We eat by hand here and make sure you use your left hand." She smiled. "Now eat it up like a good boy, then we'll carry on to Fuad."
T hey left an hour and a half later. Rupert said, "What am I going to find at Fuad?"
"In effect, an army camp. We have young Arabs from all the main Arab states. We teach them basic weaponry skills with rifles and machine guns, plus more sophisticated weapons such as shoulder-fired missiles."
"What about bomb-making and explosives?"
"Yes, that, too, though it's pretty basic. Mostly how to use explosives effectively with timer pencils. There's a limit to what we can do. It isn't exactly up to Provisional IRA standards. We usually have around fifty in the camp, mostly men, but a few women pass through. They do eight weeks here and then go back home and pass their knowledge on."
"Who are the instructors?"
"Mostly Palestinians."
"Are they up to it?"
"Good help is hard to find. The chief instructor is first class, though, Colum McGee. He was in the IRA for years."
"So what's the purpose of all this?"
"To have lots of reasonably trained young revolutionaries scattered throughout the Middle East, youngsters who would happily overthrow their governments, who hate capitalism and the wealthy."
"But, Kate, you're a capitalist and you are unbelievably wealthy. And yet you want to destabilize the lot. It doesn't make sense."
"It does if you want revenge, darling, it does if you want revenge."
"And how do you achieve that?"
"Later, Rupert. When the time is right." She glanced down below where sand boiled in a great cloud. So Ben Carver had been right. A desert storm was brewing.
V illiers and his men were well into the hill country, passing between those great ocher cliffs, making for the pool at Hama. For some time as the wind increased in force he had been aware of the fine particles of sand being carried with it, and he and his men had covered their noses and mouths with scarves.
As they approached the pool, he said to Achmed, "We'll stop and replenish the water bags."
"As the Sahb commands."
Achmed got out with two Scouts, but Villiers stayed in
The warriors pushed them away and formed two lines. Two young boys ran forward, each with a robe, and helped Kate and Rupert into them.
She raised an arm to the warriors, fist clenched. "My brothers."
They roared their approval and more rifles were fired into the air. She led the way to where a huge awning had been prepared, with a carpet and cushions to sit on. Two of the sub-chieftains squatted cross-legged beside her and engaged in a lively conversation in Arabic. Rupert lit a cigarette and was served thick sweet coffee in a metal cup, and seed cakes. The two old chieftains were also busy with coffee, and many people sat and watched.
"Unbelievable," Rupert said. "I've never seen anything like it."
"These are my people, Rupert."
"And yet this is only half of you. When you took me down to Dauncey the other month, the villagers were just the same, in a strange way. Dammit, when we went in the Dauncey Arms for a drink, everybody who was sitting down stood up."
"That's because they are also my people, and they're as dear to me as those here. Dauncey roots go deep, Rupert, and they're your roots, too."
"Something to live up to, all that," Rupert said, and somewhat to his own surprise, realized that he meant it.
Women appeared with various dishes: rice, lentils, plenty of unleavened bread, and a hot stew.
"What the hell is in that?" Rupert asked.
"Goat, darling, and don't say no or you'll give offense."
"Dear God," Rupert said.
"No knives and forks. We eat by hand here and make sure you use your left hand." She smiled. "Now eat it up like a good boy, then we'll carry on to Fuad."
T hey left an hour and a half later. Rupert said, "What am I going to find at Fuad?"
"In effect, an army camp. We have young Arabs from all the main Arab states. We teach them basic weaponry skills with rifles and machine guns, plus more sophisticated weapons such as shoulder-fired missiles."
"What about bomb-making and explosives?"
"Yes, that, too, though it's pretty basic. Mostly how to use explosives effectively with timer pencils. There's a limit to what we can do. It isn't exactly up to Provisional IRA standards. We usually have around fifty in the camp, mostly men, but a few women pass through. They do eight weeks here and then go back home and pass their knowledge on."
"Who are the instructors?"
"Mostly Palestinians."
"Are they up to it?"
"Good help is hard to find. The chief instructor is first class, though, Colum McGee. He was in the IRA for years."
"So what's the purpose of all this?"
"To have lots of reasonably trained young revolutionaries scattered throughout the Middle East, youngsters who would happily overthrow their governments, who hate capitalism and the wealthy."
"But, Kate, you're a capitalist and you are unbelievably wealthy. And yet you want to destabilize the lot. It doesn't make sense."
"It does if you want revenge, darling, it does if you want revenge."
"And how do you achieve that?"
"Later, Rupert. When the time is right." She glanced down below where sand boiled in a great cloud. So Ben Carver had been right. A desert storm was brewing.
V illiers and his men were well into the hill country, passing between those great ocher cliffs, making for the pool at Hama. For some time as the wind increased in force he had been aware of the fine particles of sand being carried with it, and he and his men had covered their noses and mouths with scarves.
As they approached the pool, he said to Achmed, "We'll stop and replenish the water bags."
"As the Sahb commands."
Achmed got out with two Scouts, but Villiers stayed in
Similar Books
