The Master's Wife by Jane Jackson

Author:Jane Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2016-06-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Seated in shadow cast by a jutting rock, they ate a picnic lunch of bread, cheese and dates. Sheikh Imad, Jago and Pawlyn sat a little way away, talking in low voices.

Antonia kept looking across, visibly irritated. ‘They’re not being very sociable.’

‘For Captain Barata and Mr Pawlyn this journey is not a social occasion,’ Sabra reminded.

Dragging her gaze from Jago, Caseley saw two of the bodyguards sitting one on either side of the group, their backs to the cliff. The other two, each carrying a gun, had positioned themselves high in the rocks so they could see anyone approaching from either direction.

Two of the servants were walking away, apparently searching the sandy wadi floor.

‘Sabra?’ Because the three of them were alone, Caseley was comfortable using the Sheikha’s name. ‘What are they looking for?’

‘Wood.’

‘Here?’ Antonia’s voice rose in disbelief. ‘There isn’t even a blade of grass, let alone a tree.’

‘True,’ Sabra agreed. ‘But rain does come, though it is unpredictable, sometimes very little, sometimes too much. Then this bare ground is covered with grass, flowers and small bushes.’

‘That must look very beautiful, though it’s hard to imagine right now.’ Shielding her eyes, Caseley looked up. The sky wasn’t the cornflower blue of a summer sky at home. It had the brutal glare of hammered steel.

‘After the rain sinks into the ground, the vegetation quickly dries out.’ Sabra nodded towards the returning servants, each now carrying an armful of scrub and twigs. She spoke to one. Dropping his armful he pulled two dry brown palm fronds from the pile. Taking the dagger from the scabbard on his belt he stripped off the ragged leaves, then handed the long, flexible stems to Sabra, bowed, and picked up the scrub again.

Sabra offered one of the sticks to Antonia and the other to Caseley. ‘Gentle tapping,’ she reminded.

‘Thank you.’ Caseley wasn’t sure she would dare use it, but it would have been discourteous to refuse.

The men stuffed most of scrub into the nets. With the rest they lit a small fire, boiled water, and brewed tea sweetened with hard sugar cracked off a cone and flavoured with torn mint leaves. Served in small, thick glasses, it was surprisingly refreshing. Then aware of a need that had become more pressing during their meal, Caseley turned to Sabra.

‘I need to – Where should –?’

‘I was about to suggest it.’ The Sheikha led her and Antonia a short distance back down the wadi to privacy among the rocks.

Out of the shade the heat was intense, radiating off the rocks and burning her head and shoulders. Caseley was grateful for her loose robes. Covering her from head to toe, they were more modest than the fashionable figure-hugging gowns well-dressed Cornish women were wearing. The loose layers allowed air to reach her body and offered a freedom of movement she wasn’t used to. They were, she realised, ideal for this climate.

As they walked back to the camels she saw the three men returning from the far side of the track and guessed they had answered a similar call.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.