Princess Sultana's Circle

fed so royally.
    “ The Sultan’s men then
became ashamed of their errand, and told the Sheik that they had
been sent by the Sultan of Roum to test his generosity by asking
for the Stallion Duldul.
    “ Sheik Hatim sat as though
he had been stunned by a heavy blow. His face became deathly white
before he said, ‘Ah, friends, if you had only made your errand
known in the beginning. You could not have fathomed my
circumstances. I was not prepared for guests, for we arrived at
this spot only two days ago. We have been waiting for our household
and flocks, but a great rain fell and flash torrents prevented them
from reaching us. When you arrived, exhausted and hungry, what was
I to do? There was no meat in my tent—and no goats or sheep within
a day’s journey. Could I fail to provide hospitality? I could not
bear the thought of hungry men in my tent. And so my prized horse,
Duldul, that matchless steed who knew my every wish and obeyed my
every word—what else could I do?’
    “ Tears were flowing down
the Sheik’s face when he said, ‘Now, go and tell your disbelieving
Sultan Roum that in my extremity, I cooked and served the beautiful
and obedient Duldul for your suppers.’”
    Kareem now smiled at the
youngest children, who were wide-eyed at the thought of such
hospitality. “Now children, know that you have heard the story of a
true Arab—the best Arab—a man whose generosity is never
questioned.”
    Kareem’s tale had us all
smiling and in a good humor as the party began to break up and move
toward the individual tents.
    But when Ali passed by me,
his arrogant look still irritated me. When my brother offered his
cheek to me for a good-night kiss, I stiffened. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw Kareem watching me.
    I smiled, then stood on my
tiptoes.
    Ali leaned
closer.
    My lips brushed teasingly
past his cheek before I whispered a favored devastating Bedouin
curse into Ali’s ear, “May every camel in your herd go lame,
Ali.”
    While Kareem looked at me
with loving approval, Ali stared at me in startled bewilderment. He
was still reveling in his role as a wise man, and could not fathom
the reason for my words of disdain.
    I smiled triumphantly as I
made my way to our tent.
    Our tent had been readied
earlier in the day according to Kareem’s instructions. It was
divided into five parts. With velvet curtains serving as
partitions, the largest room was arranged for entertaining and
eating, two rooms were for sleeping, and two more rooms served as
bathrooms. Kareem and I would share one bedroom and bath, and our
daughters the other.
    I walked through the
largest room where small, custom-made sofas as well as peach and
beige silk cushions lined two walls. Persian carpets covered the
sandy floor of the desert. Camel saddles decorated with gold and
silver fringe to be later used by our men while on desert outings
lined a third wall. Banners, swords, and the Saudi flag added to
the array of decorations.
    The cozy contours of the
bedrooms had been furnished with unique pieces of beautiful
furniture. Our beds were crowned with light-weight canopies, and
draped with a sheer fabric that would screen our bodies from the
desert dust and insects.
    My maid had already laid
out my sleeping gown, and after washing my face and cleaning my
teeth, I slipped out of my dress. I sighed with contentment as I
stretched across my side of the bed.
    This day in my life had
been more agreeable than most. I was asleep within moments, and
never even heard Kareem when he came into the room.
     

Chapter
Sixteen
    Swirling Sands
    The following days were
most pleasant for the whole family. Our men
mounted their camels and hunted desert wildlife while our children
played endless games with their cousins. The women enjoyed long
walks around the camp, admiring the scenic vistas and sharing many
happy memories of our childhood.
    Three days into our trip,
our husbands suggested that we visit the camp of the Bedouin tribe
whose men had so startled us on our first day. We women were eager
to go, for every city Arab remains forever curious about the
Bedouin.
    All the women except Dunia,
that is. Dunia flatly refused the invitation, claiming that her
frail temperament simply could not survive such a shock as visiting
a dirty Bedouin camp, so she stayed behind with our female servants
and the children.
    People unfamiliar with
Arabia believe all Arabs are Bedouin; actually, city Arabs and
desert Bedouin Arabs have rarely co-existed peacefully,