She washed her face with the towel, but couldn't remove all of the dirt around her painfully swollen eyes. The food was greasy, but was luckily soft, for it also hurt her to chew. The wine tasted wonderful, but she felt strangely tired after she finished drinking it. Christina fought to stay awake so she could be prepared for what would happen next, but she couldn't manage to keep her eyes open or think coherently, and presently she fell into a sound sleep.

When Amair Abdalla left the woman in Sheik AH Hejaz's tent, he stopped long enough to tell Cassim that Sheik Ali wished to see him, then he went directly to his father's tent. He did not feel sorry for Cassim, for whatever befell him was of his own doing. Sheik Ali was angrier than Amair had expected, and Cassim would probably die for his deed.

"Amair, did everything go well?" his father, Cogia Abdalla, asked when Amair walked into the tent that they shared.

"Yes, father, all went as planned," Amair replied distastefully. He sat down on the sheepskin that was his bed, and grabbed the goatskin of wine beside it. "But I will tell you this—I do not care for what I was ordered to do. That woman has done nothing, and she should not be made the pawn for revenge. Already she has suffered, for Cassim beat her before I could stop him."

"What! That no-good—"

"Don't you see, father?" Amair cut in. "None of this should have happened in the first place. Cassim shot the man Christina Wakefield was riding with. I pray that he is found before he dies, for he is Ahmad, the brother of Amine's husband. If Ahmad dies, then Syed will hate us and we will never be able to see my sister, Amine, again."

"I should have known this plan would come to no good." Cogia hung his head dejectedly. "I should never have agreed to let you take part in it. I only want this hatred to come to an end so I can see my daughter again. Amine must have children now, and I have never seen them. I might never see my grandchildren!"

"But even so, father, you should never have agreed to this plan. Sheik Abu had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago. He was across the seas then. I do not think he should be made the target for Sheik Ali's revenge now that Sheik Yasir is dead."

"I know, my son, but what can we do now? Perhaps Sheik Abu will not come," Cogia said. He looked out of the open tent. In the center of the camp three little boys were playing with a baby lamb. Cogia ached with wanting to see his own daughter and her children.

"He will come," Amair replied. "And if he brings the men of his tribe, there will be much useless bloodshed for something that happened twenty-five years ago. And not one man who will die had anything to do with it."

And Philip did come, less than an hour later. He came alone and cursed himself for doing so when he realized the danger he was up against

Philip had returned to his camp and was told that Christina had gone riding with Ahmad. He was glad she'd decided to resume her daily rides, and realized it was time to break out of his own depression. His father was dead, but he still had Christina.

Thoughts of Christina went through Philip's mind as he paced the tent waiting for her to return. But when the sun went down and there was still no sign of her, a sickening dread came over him. He ran from the tent and, seeing Syed by the corral, told him to follow.

Philip broke out in a sweat as they galloped down the hillside, Syed desperately trying to keep up with him. After riding some distance in the direction Christina usually took, Philip saw two horses standing close to each other. The color drained from his face when he came closer and saw a body lying on the sand.

He jumped from his horse and ran to Ahmad. The wound was in the lower part of Ahmad's chest; he had lost a lot of blood but was still alive. Syed arrived, and they forced some water down Ahmad's throat. He finally opened his eyes. He looked from Philip to Syed and tried to sit up but was too weak from loss of blood.

"Can you talk, Ahmad?" Philip asked. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Ahmad looked at Philip through glazed eyes. "There were four desert men riding toward us at a fast speed. I—I raised my rifle to fire, but they shot me. That is all I can remember." Ahmad strained to look about, and when he saw Christina's horse he sank back onto the sand. "They have taken her?"

"It looks that way," Philip replied. His body was tense, ready to do battle. He looked to the older brother. "Syed, you take Ahmad back to camp. Maidi will know what to do for him. I don't know how long I will be, but do not follow. I will find Christina, and the man who shot your brother will die."

"Allah be with you," Syed replied as Philip mounted Ms horse.

The tracks from the kidnappers' four horses could still be seen, since there had been no wind to cover them with sand. Philip followed the tracks with a speed Victory had never reached before. He kept seeing Christina's frightened face, and he prayed that he could find her in time, before the men raped and sold her.

He should never have let her ride on the desert. If he had limited her to the camp, she would be there now. And he wouldn't be fearing for her life. Please, God, let him find her in time!

Philip had a sick feeling in his heart as he tried to imagine what his life would be without Christina. He pictured the empty bed that he had shared with her, the empty tent that he had always been eager to enter, her beautiful, soft body that could tempt him so easily. How could another woman ever take Christina's place? He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.

He must love her if he felt this way!

Philip had never believed he would fall in love. What a fool he had been! But what if he couldn't find Christina? Worse, what if she didn't want to be found? Well, he would find her or die trying, and he would force her to go back with him. He would rather live with her hate than live without her. Perhaps someday she would grow to love him in return.

Philip thanked heaven for the full moon that gave him enough light to follow the tracks. The hours passed by slowly, filled with his tortured thoughts, and the sun was high before Philip spotted the camp of a desert tribe in the distance. The tracks he followed led directly to the camp. It won't be long now, Christina, he thought. I will find you and take you home.

Philip slowed his horse and entered the encampment Several men came forward as he halted Victory in the center of the camp.

"I am looking for four men and a woman," Philip said in Arabic. "They came through here, did they not?"

"You have come to the right place, Abu Alhamar. You will dismount and come with me."

Philip turned to see the man who spoke. A rifle was pointed at his back, leaving him little choice. "How do you know who I am?"

"You have been expected. Come with me."

Philip dismounted, and the man prodded him with the rifle toward a tent entrance. More armed men walked behind him, ready for his slightest move. How the devil do they know who I am? Philip wondered.

An old man at the far end of the tent stood up and looked Philip over. "It did not take you long to come, Sheik Abu. I have waited a long time for this moment."

"What the hell is this all about?" Philip demanded. "How do you know who I am? I've never laid eyes on you before?"

"You have seen me before, but you would not remember. Perhaps you have heard of me? I am Ali Hejaz, sheik of this tribe and uncle to Rashid, your half-brother. Do you know me now?"

"I have heard your name before, but that's all. Why were you expecting me?"

"Ah, I see your father kept the truth from you. Now I must tell you the whole story, so you will understand why I am going to kill you to avenge my sister's death."

"You must be cra2y," Philip laughed. "I've done nothing to you. Why do you want me dead?"

"I am not crazy, Abu Alhamar." Ali Hejaz spoke calmly, relishing his moment of triumph. "You will soon learn why you must die. I knew you would fall into my trap, because I have your woman."

"Where is she?" Philip exploded. "If you've hurt her ... !"

"All in good time, Abu," Ah" Hejaz interrupted. "You may see her later, for the last time. Do not fear for her, for she will not be harmed in my camp. I am grateful to Christina Wakefield for bringing you to my vengeance. Later, I will return her to her brother for the reward."

"How did you know about her?" Philip asked.

"You have so many questions! You see, Rashid visits me from time to time. He mentioned you were back from England, and that you were keeping a foreign woman as your mistress. It seems I have rescued Christina Wakefield from her abductor!" Ali paused. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with anger. "I also recently learned of Yasir's death. I was cheated out of killing him myself, so you, his beloved son, will take his place!"

"What do you claim my father did?" Philip asked.

Ali Hejaz poured two glasses of wine and offered one to Philip. He declined, and Ali smiled. "It will be your last —I suggest you drink it. It is not poisoned, I assure you. I have a slower, crueler death planned for you."

"Get on with your explanations, Hejaz. I wish to see Christina," Philip replied. He took the wine and toasted the old man mockingly.

"I see you do not take me seriously yet. Ah, but you will when your slow death begins. However, you deserve to know why you are going to die." Ali paused and drank from the glass he was holding.

"A very long time ago, your father and I were close friends. I would have done anything for Yasir. I also knew your mother, and I was with Yasir when you were born. I rejoiced for your father in those days. He had two fine sons and a woman he loved more than life itself. I remember holding you on my knee when you were only three years old and telling you stories. Can you remember that?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would. Those were happy days— until your mother left. She was a good woman, but she destroyed Yasir. He was never the same again. His wife gone, his two sons gone, Yasir felt he had nothing to live for. I suffered with him for three years, for I loved Yasir as a brother. I hoped he would forget your mother, and find happiness again. I had a sister named Margiana, a beautiful girl who adored Yasir. So I offered Margiana to Yasir in marriage."

"But my mother and father were still married. How could he marry your sister?" Philip interrupted.

"Your mother had gone and was not coming back. It was the same as if she were dead. Yasir was free to marry again. He could make a new life and sire sons he could watch grow to manhood. So Yasir agreed to marry my sister. I was called away just then, and asked Margiana not to marry until my return. But she refused to wait.

"I was wounded while away and was bedridden for months. It took me almost two years to find my sister and Yasir's tribe. Rashid, my sister's son, was a year old then.

"And so the years passed, and I thought all was well with my sister. Yasir was still unhappy. He did not love Rashid as he had you. However, when I visited my sister she acted as though she were happy.

"Several years ago, my sister came to me and finally told me the truth about her so-called marriage. Yasir refused to marry her at the last minute. But on the night they were to have been married, he got drunk and raped her. When she discovered months later that she was with child, she begged Yasir to marry her. But he still refused. He couldn't forget your mother. Margiana felt ashamed because she was not married, so she lied to me and let me think she was happy. Yasir never took her again, but he let her and Rashid live with his tribe. She loved him, and he treated her like dirt.

"After my sister told me the truth, she killed herself. It was as if Yasir had plunged the knife into her. He killed my sister, and on that day I swore revenge. I waited, but Yasir knew of my sworn hatred and never ventured from his camp alone. He never forgot I was waiting for him, and I waited too long. Yasir died a happy man, without suffering the way my sister suffered."

"But all that has nothing to do with me. Why do you want me dead?" Philip asked. He believed the story. Yasir had lived with the memory of his first and only wife until the day he died. He probably never knew that Margiana loved him and was suffering because of it.

'You will take Yasir's place," said Ali Hejaz. "You, his beloved son, who were everything to him, as my sister was to me. You, who gave Yasir pleasure in his last years when he should have had none. You, the son of the woman who was to blame for my sister's death. You, who are just like your father in every way, taking women without marriage and mating them suffer.