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to speak, the opportunity to speak for Talal would be lost.
    Everything had been done that they could do in the short time available to them. Gold had been dispersed to those with influence but little chance of becoming ruler themselves; a little remark, gently phrased, pointing out to those with something to hide the best path for them to take to ensure that that which was best kept hidden, stayed hidden; the offer to those for whom power was the goal that power could be given after the right result occurred; those with arrogance had their egos stroked with fine words and, where relevant, their wives bedecked with the finest of silver jewellery. But even with all that, there remained a core of serious, very serious, rivals to Talal’s elevation. Had she had more time, they would not have worried Zahirah unduly; after all, life was, at best, uncertain; no more so than in the harsh deserts of Arabia. Much could happen to unexpectedly end a life once so full of promise, or, indeed, one so full of threat. In the little more than seventy two hours before the assembly, however, too much too soon could undo any benefit their sudden absence could give.
    So, although much had been prepared for, much remained uncertain as they prepared to take part in the crucial majlis . As Zahirah and Firyal, from their usual position behind the screens, looked out impassively and watched the large, airy chamber fill up with the fifty or so family members along with the heads of the emirate’s most powerful merchant families, they knew there were some five men who were threats to Talal. Two, Nasim and Yusuf, were – perhaps – containable. They would, probably, be neutralised by the fact that they were both supported by the same faction within the family, and so their possible support was divided.
    The other three however, were of a different level of threat entirely. Mahmoud, although no warrior, was one of the more senior sheikhs and, in addition, had an almost unrivalled reputation for wiliness and being adept at the inter-tribal politics so necessary for the sheikdom’s survival. He was also more than comfortably wealthy in his own right and thus was in no need of any of the financial offerings Zahirah or Firyal could offer. Though balanced to some extent by the great, though unvoiced, distaste for his mother being of the despised artisan class, he was one to watch. He was followed very closely by Faisal. Both men had strong followings and were in, or near, the very prime of their fighting lives.
    None of the contenders came close, however, to the level of threat that the fifth man presented, for finally, the last, but very much not the least, was Badr. Of them all, he was the one who most closely resembled Fouad, being himself a powerful warrior and ruthless leader. He had proven skills in all of the arts of negotiation and subtlety needed to hold Narash together. In many ways, and in the eyes of many, he was the ideal choice to follow his brother.
    Though they suspected that he thought the same, Talal’s supporters didn’t know with absolute certainty. The wily prince had played a skilled hand and had let little slip about his intentions, or his ambitions, in the days preceding the majlis .
    As each member of the majlis entered the chamber and took his seat on one or other of the many colourful cushions placed on the richly carpeted floor, everyone knew that the outcome was far, so very far, from certain. Every one present also knew that if Talal’s bid failed, his life would be in real danger. No new Emir would lightly leave alive one so recently and so obviously his rival.
    What most of those present, Talal’s supporters included, didn’t know, however, were the ruthless measures that were in place should the choice go against Fouad’s son. Destructive, divisive, certainly, but they would be used should things go against what his father had decreed. For the moment, they were in abeyance until the outcome of the family majlis was