foods were spread before them, in such profusion that Fran felt giddy.
This was followed by the entertainment. A large space was cleared and suddenly the air was filled with whoops and yells. A troop of horsemen burst onto the scene, galloping around and around in a circle, performing amazing acrobatics. Ali explained that they were tribesmen who still lived in the desert and treasured the skills handed down from their ancestors.
There had never been such riders, doing handstands on the backs of fast galloping horses, leaping from horse to horse, landing perfectly every time. With each landing there were yells and yodels of triumph, until the air was filled with their cries.
Finally there came one horseman on his own. He was better dressed than the others and his face was covered, except for his eyes. He was the least skilled, but the crowd roared and cheered as if he was a star, and Fran understood why when he landed at her feet and revealed himself to be Yasir.
‘What are you doing here, playing the fool?’ Ali demanded cheerfully.
‘I came to pay my respects,’ Yasir said, sweeping an extravagant bow to Fran. She smiled and applauded, and he vanished into the crowd.
A young man appeared with a lyre, and began to sing. Fran didn’t understand the words, but the music, with its poignant sound of happiness that was half sadness, seemed to take possession of her. Ali leaned close and whispered, ‘It is an Arabic poem, hundreds of years old. It means, “My heart rides with the wild wind, my steed is fast, my love rides by my side…”’
‘That’s beautiful,’ Fran said.
“‘The wind is eternal,”’ Ali continued. “‘The sand is eternal. Our love is eternal.”’
The singer’s voice grew melancholy.
“‘She is gone from me. But, in my heart, we shall ride in the moonlight, for ever,”’ Ali translated. ‘Come, my love, let us walk together.’
He took her hand, and the crowds melted away. He led her to the gardens where they could walk under the palm trees, watched through the leaves by parrots, and listen to the soft plashing of the fountains.
‘This is such a perfect place,’ she murmured.
‘I hoped you would think so. I believe the Enchanted Gardens must be like this.’
‘The Enchanted Gardens?’ she echoed. ‘Where are they?’
‘Anywhere you like. They are where lovers meet when the storms and stress of life are over. Or they exist in your heart. My father built this garden as a gift for my mother. We all have our own Enchanted Gardens. Mine are with you.’
He kissed her tenderly, and led her away down winding paths to where the desert began, and the brilliant moon threw black shadows among the dunes.
‘Here it is,’ he said, ‘the desert you dreamed of. And tomorrow I shall show it to you. We shall leave very early in the morning, while it is cool and pleasant, and return when the sun climbs. At midday you will sleep, and in the evening we shall venture out again. Perhaps we shall ride on for ever, and never be seen again by human eyes. And the desert, which is so full of mysterious legends, will have another one.’
‘When you talk such beautiful nonsense I could almost wish it to happen,’ she whispered.
‘It’s a crime to accuse the prince of talking nonsense,’ he told her with a smile.
‘Beautiful nonsense,’ she reminded him.
‘Then I forgive you. There is much beauty for me to show you, but the greatest beauty of all is in you.’
She had never known him speak so simply and gently before, and her heart responded with joy. He drew her close and she went gladly into his arms. His kiss was like his speech, loving, almost reverent, not demanding but coaxing, and it was irresistible.
‘Ali,’ she whispered, melting against him.
‘Say my name again,’ he begged. ‘I love to hear it on your lips.’
She said it again, and then again. It had a wonderful sound, until he silenced it by covering her mouth with his own. His lips were warm, firm yet tender. They spoke to her not only of passion, but of love, and something inside her flowered. If only he could always be like this.
She felt him lift her high in his arms and begin to walk back the way they had come. She clung to him, her eyes closed, for she wanted no images to intrude on the fever of longing that possessed her.
He laid her down. They were in darkness except for one small lamp. Fran reached up for him, caressing his face, eager for his love. If he wanted her now, she knew she had no will to refuse him.
But this was a clever man, as subtle as the serpent in the Garden of Eden. Instead of lying down beside her, he kissed her gently and rose again, leaving her longing.
‘I shall be here for you before dawn,’ he said. ‘Be ready for me, for I shall bring a flying carpet to transport you to a magic land.’
Then he was gone, and she was alone, wondering what kind of man this was who always surprised her.
He was as good as his word, arriving in the cool early light, dressed for riding. She too was in riding breeches, which Leena had brought with her.
They mounted the waiting horses and headed out in the cool morning air to a world that belonged to them alone. The desert lay almost in darkness, but there was just enough light to see by, and soon the oasis was far behind them.
The sun climbed fast and the light grew every moment, flooding the land with colour. Ali spurred his horse and it streaked away over the sand. A light touch, and Safiya did the same, carrying her along like the wind until she almost caught up with him. But he went faster and faster, always keeping her at a little distance, until at last he pulled rein and wheeled to face her.
‘Do you know where we are?’ he asked, smiling.
She looked around and saw that in every direction the sand stretched as far as her eyes could see.
‘We’re lost,’ she cried, bewildered.
‘Of course we’re not. We rode away from the sun, and we can return by riding towards it. But just for a little while we are alone in the world. And it can be ours, with only the two of us, and nobody else to tell us yea or nay. If we were on the moon together, I think it would be like this.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, looking about her in wonder.
Beneath their feet the sand rippled away in dunes of varying shades of yellow. Above them the blue, cloudless sky plunged down to meet it. She felt drunk with the vivid intensity of the colours.
He slipped an arm about her shoulders, drawing her sideways on Safiya’s back so that she leaned against him, and looked searchingly into her face.
‘Let us go on for ever,’ he said, ‘and seek our Enchanted Garden, where there will be no problems or fighting, and we can love each other as fate meant us to.’
‘You make it sound so tempting,’ she sighed. ‘But we can’t run away from the world.’
‘Lady Almas Faiza, why must you be so serious?’
‘Because things can never be as easy for me as for you.’
‘Easy? Do you think it’s easy for me to be with you day after day, and feel the distance you put between us?’
She shook her head. ‘Not I. The distance is there. I only wish-’ She checked herself.
‘What do you wish?’ he asked eagerly.
She touched his face with tender fingers, but shook her head.
He kissed her once more. ‘The sun is high, and we must return. Tonight we will make this journey again as the moon rises. I want you to see my desert in all its moods, for you will understand them better than any other.’
She had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the desert at sunrise, but that night she discovered that she was wrong.
As they strolled to where the horses were waiting, Ali said, ‘I used to come here as a child, with my parents. I was too young to understand about love, but I knew even then that the bond between them was very rare.
‘I remember one night seeing them ride out together, to be alone, leaving me behind. I was jealous because they shared something that excluded me. And I promised myself that one day I too would ride out with my lady under the moon.’
She looked at him quickly, but he laid gentle fingers over her mouth, as if words would spoil this moment.
The full moon was shining brilliant and silver, draining the world of colour, and making the dunes mysterious
