Now:

The sheik Omar Sahid al Maliq's palace was imposing and sumptuous. Inheritance of a wealthy family for generations, it had been modernized by the current sheik, providing all the comforts that money can buy.

Its facade was imposing and impressive, however, it showed all the charms of a building made to shelter dreams.

The walls were of an almost shining white, in undulating lines, common to Arabian taste, and rose to great heights until they gave way to towers and roofs of gold.

On the main dome, a flag with the family's coat of arms identified who the majestic palace belonged to.

There were more than two hundred rooms spread over several floors. All the expensive furniture attested to the good taste of its owner.

After three weeks of business travel, the sheik approached his valuable property. He was proud of his possessions and all he had achieved.

But he was absolutely convinced that his most valuable asset was in the palace's master suite. His wife Bethany.

She was the cause of his breathing, the reason for his joy, and the fuel that moved him. He loved her passionately and showed that love at all times. There was electricity between them that lit up a room.

The sheik's magnetism found equal strength in his wife's personality. The woman who made him happy and presented him with his son, Benjamin al Maliq, heir to his kingdom, his power, and all his material possessions.

When he thought of the baby, Omar's smile expanded. The son was beautiful, which was natural, given his lineage of royalty and the stunning beauty of Bethany. But the boy also proved to be very smart for his age. From an early age, he recognized his father and jumped into his arms, making Omar proud and happy.

Bethany sometimes laughed at her husband's comments, “Look, Bethany. Ben follows your movements with his eyes.

“He is probably hungry, Omar.”

“Ben is an observer. Our son will move the world.”

“He has already moved my world, for sure.”

“And you have moved mine, Bethany.” While saying this, the sheik approaches the wife and kisses her lips softly.

"Do you want to give me the boy, Omar? I will get him to sleep.”

“No. Today Prince Benjamin goes to sleep listening to the stories of his ancestors.” And the sheik sat in a comfortable armchair, with the sleepy baby in his arms. For about ten minutes he told stories of kingdoms and adventures. Then he was silent because his wife was lodged at his feet and when Bethany saw the request in the eyes of her husband, she started to sing a beautiful lullaby. It lulled the boy to sleep and filled the man's heart.

The three-week trip had been too long for him. But his uncle had insisted on his presence and prolonged his stay abroad, creating a series of problems. This had irritated Omar, who was determined to take serious action on his relative's attitude.

But at the moment, he didn't want to think about it. His arms almost ached from the need to hug Bethany.

He hurried up to the royal quarters, only to find them empty of the beloved presences. The servants, when questioned, looked confused and terrified. They just answered his questions about his wife's whereabouts, with a confused 'I don't know'.

It was unacceptable. Tired of the incompetent people, Omar went to interrogate his butler Amin, since he had been requested by the sheik, to manage the needs of Bethany and the baby.

Omar was blunt because he felt irritated again.

"Where are Bethany and the baby, Amin?"

“They ran away, my lord.”

The sound of shattered objects thrown at the walls and the sheik's violent screams were heard throughout the palace.

This increased the panic that had settled in the place since Bethany's escape.

There would be harsh consequences for those involved in this situation.

A LINE OF CAMELS

Now:

Scott had stayed at the end of the line to watch his group traveling at a slow pace since the heat was too much. He followed a group of about thirty people, well organized for the long march to the final destination. Some of them cooked, others set up camp. About ten fighters always traveled with the group, in case of an attack to plunder.

There were highwaymen on these roads. They lived on it and were merciless. They had been vomited from the society of the surrounding villages, due to their inability to live with others. They were noisy, disheveled, and had a rotten odor. It was never pleasant to meet such a bunch.

But Scott was prepared for everything. Very accustomed to these trips, there were no surprises for him. He prepared for eventualities. His sharp mind played a game, the prize of which was survival in this hostile world.

He always sent three men ahead two days in advance. But it had already happened that these scouts had died up ahead and the villains had caught up with their group, which was marching towards them, without knowing it. He had won hand-to-hand combat in those past fights, but it was more exhausting.

Scott had now improved his strategy. The scouts left two days ahead, but after one day, one of them came back. Two kept going. They took turns with a fourth man who hurried forward while the first one rested. One of those two must be getting back by then. In this way, he always had two scouts ahead and every day one had to be back.

That way they would know that not every scout had been killed upfront. If no one returned within that time, they would deviate from the route.

It was a game. Almost foolproof. But, of course, there were always surprises. That was what gave commercial trips an extra flavor, apart from the profits they provided. It kept Scott alert and happy.

But not this time. His cargo was too precious. His sister and nephew were worth everything to him.

In this trip, all precautions were taken, both for the way ahead and for the possibility of being followed.

He didn't believe an attack was possible, he was surrounded by people he confided in.

Scott had fighters of the highest skills and friends who would give their lives for him, as he would for them. Many were related to each other, cousins and uncles who had become accustomed since childhood to fight together and protect themselves.

Even so, Scott did not risk letting his guard down. This wasn't a trip on which he was going to rest much. He would sleep on some other occasion. He never thought about the possibility of dying on the way. He was a winner. And a survivor.

But even surrounded by the best fighters, his sister traveled anonymously. Scott did not want the fact that the sheik's runaway wife traveled with them to spread widely.

She was hidden in the wagon, during the journey, and in the tents furthest from the main group, at night. She also wore simpler clothes, which somewhat disguised her royal posture.

On this trip, for personal contact with Bethany and her baby, Scott had chosen only four or five people, of his highest trust.