Sarah said in a loud, clear voice across the sheikh’s tent. She did her best to ignore that fact that he was inspecting a large collection of guns spread out in front of him and his men. “Here you are again demanding something.” Sheikh Akbar laughed. “You go to my niece’s tent and come out demanding that I cancel her wedding. I send you to my mother’s tent and you come out demanding a trip to the capital. If I sent you to stay with the camels, would you come in here demanding more food for them?” All of his men laughed along with him. “Your mother is very sick. Her leg’s infected.” “I’m not going to talk about such intimate matters in front of other people,” the sheikh replied. Sarah remembered that in the local culture it was deemed highly inappropriate to discuss female relatives in front of non-family members. “Tell your men to go away then.” “And be alone with you again? Twice in one day? It would, of course, be a pleasure, but my men will talk.” “I don’t care what they think.
