Arabia today spells trouble and oil and the political ambitions of Nasser,
Ghorgyba, Hussein, and even South. But behind this tapestry of terror, beyond
this arouse of ambition, men still struggle for less public and more
personal goals such as a pretty woman. Of such a struggle is our story concerned,
a story fully comparison with Bernou's natives, Desert Sheiks and Captive
Damsel. Listen, listen then as Frank Lovejoy stars in A Fair at Aden.
I lay flat on the ridge back of the rocks and watched the Arab guards a quarter
mile down the slope below me as they lounged in front of the gate of the Baha'i's
tribal fort. Before dark I had to be past those guards and inside that gate. I had
to find Beth Tshara.
I watched the sun sink lower near the horizon now. In 20 minutes I would try
to enter the fort. The shadows would be longer then, more deceptive and the
guards might not recognize me. The mod rock, the evening breeze of Saudi Arabia
was springing up and the air was cool. I thought of Aden on the coast 80 miles
behind me, safe and secure with its paved streets, electricity, American
automobiles, and British police. I thought of the Commissioner and the way it had
all started late the night before. Commissioner! Mr. Trolley! Commissioner!
John Bradley, geologist for the oil company. And we've met at the foreign
club. Open up Commissioner, I've got to talk to you.
Bit of an hour down for talking over. I know, I'm sorry to bother you but
something's happened. Yes I do recall meeting you. You're that American chap.
What can I do for you? Commissioner, a girl was kidnapped an hour ago taken from
her room by a gang of Arabs in Paris. Girl? What girl? Her name is Beth Tshara.
Oh an Arab girl. Yes you probably wouldn't know her. She was graduated from
the American University in Beirut three months ago and came here to work for the
oil company. About an hour ago she was kidnapped. Yes go on. Well her roommate
just told me about it. They locked the roommate in the closet when they took
Beth. She just now managed to get out. Tell me Mr. Bradley. Oh yes Bradley. Who
are they? Some of the Yadrissi tribe according to Beth's roommate from the
back in the hill country. They were led by Sheikh Fahad. Fahad? Oh yes he's
Hussein Agra's son. He has a fort or a stronghold of some kind on the Jebel
Robin pass about 80 miles back in the hill country. Yes I know where it is.
Well this Fahad's a young chap educated in Oxford, strict Muslim, quite a decent
fellow. You could rest easy Mr. Bradford there's nothing to concern yourself about.
Look didn't you hear me? I said he kidnapped a girl he's taking her back
into the hills right now. Quite so and a custom of the country. An old tradition,
marriage by capture or a pretense of capture. No doubt the girl was quite
willing actually. This wasn't any pretense she was kidnapped. Oh no. Commissioner Beth
and I are engaged to be married. Really? Yes I'm through here I'm sailing for home
next week and she's going with me. And may I ask how long you've known her? Oh
well two months. But exactly and as a man of the world may I point out that
young ladies are often prone to change their minds and matters of affection.
So I hardly think that. Look do I understand that you're not going to do anything
about this? It's not much I can do you know. All right I'll do it myself. But do what?
I'm going into the Jebel Radom hills find her and bring her back. I strongly
advise against it. For what reason? He's a tribal chief you know hundreds of
followers. He might make it a bit sticky for you. That's my problem don't worry
about it. Sorry to have bothered you Commissioner. No not at all old boy I was glad to.
Thanks for your help. Impatuous fellow. Redman was it? Redman? Oh well.
The shadows from the dying Sun were growing longer now. Dust was creeping in
over the desert but the hilltop still caught the last flat rays of light. My
horse tied back at the ridge stamped impatiently. The guards were moving about
restlessly and a rifle slung on their backs. I pulled the burners closer about
me finding it awkward and uncomfortable not being used to native dress. But more
uncomfortable were my thoughts. I realized for the first time since I left
Aden that I might be making a complete fool of myself. The Commissioner might be
right. I remember the last time I'd seen Beth. It was two nights before in the Palm
Garden near my quarters by the wall of the Mosque of the Shepherds. It is always so
warm here at night. In the new country it was different. It's like this in Arizona in the
summertime. Arizona. Tell me about it. Oh it's a wonderful country you'll like
Arizona. But will Arizona like me? That is important too. Nobody could spend ten
minutes around you and not like you. That's how long it took me. You are so
beautiful Johnny. Beautiful? Because you make me feel beautiful inside. Like when I
hear camel bells wail far off in the distance or come to an oasis late at
night. See the fires where the people are camping. You hear them singing in the dark.
It all seems so long ago. Everything is different now. Why? No woman of my tribe
ever went to school before Johnny. I'm different. I rode a caravan with a stranger
Houston. In a few days I will go with you to live with strangers on the other side of the world.
You're scared? Little perhaps. Sometimes I wake up at night and I smell the desert in the wind.
The old waves die very hard. Hold me Johnny, hold me tight. Oh I intend to from now on.
But for always. Johnny. You're trembling. What's the matter? Something happened this morning in the bazaar.
I saw a person I had missed for many years. A shaykh of the Yadriks. A man named Fahad.
So? He had been away in the hill country. He did not know I had come back to aid him.
Johnny, I was promised to him. What do you mean? Arrangements were made by our fathers when I was ten years old.
Such things are done among the tribes. Well did you tell him? I mean about us. I was too frightened to say anything.
He called me little bride. Then he laughed and he wrote down his name. Well that's nothing to be frightened about.
Johnny, you do not understand. The men of my people are different. The woman does not have the same rights.
Privileges. Well in a week you will have all the rights and privileges of an American wife.
Oh Johnny, hold me. Hold me tight and don't ever let me go.
The sun was below the horizon now. The hills lay in shadow. Ten more minutes it would be dark.
Fool or not, win or lose, the chips were down. It was time to go.
I mounted my horse, pulled my head cloth up to hide my face, reached inside my robe and took out the old parchment scroll with its long crimson streamers of silk.
The mark of the desert curry. My whole plan depended upon getting into the fort without being stopped outside by the guards.
After that I'd take my chances. I dug my spurs into the horses' skin and I was ready to go.
I spurs into the horses' side and holding the scroll above my head with the streamers trailing out behind me on the wind, I rode down the slope at a full gallop.
The guards heard me coming, swung their rifles off their back and held them ready. I spurred the horse and headed straight toward the gate.
Miss, now! Up to you!
Then at the last moment two of the guards swung the gate open and I rode into the courtyard.
The guards followed me in and closed the gate behind them.
Then another man came striding across the court and the guards saluted.
Mandubaja? Miss, now!
I'm afraid he's mistaken. I'm not a dispatcher rider.
An Englishman?
No, an American. Bradley is the name.
Bradley? Ayers?
I want to see Beth Tashara.
Indeed. So simple, huh? Exactly as though you were at home in your own country where everything is nice and safe.
You are a fool, Mr. Bradley.
So I've been told.
I am the Sheikh Fahad. This is my district, the country of the Idrisi. My word here is law. The only law there is. Do you understand?
You're not quite the only law. You're a Muslim. The Koran is your law.
I rode in here of my own free will. Your men didn't bring me in as a prisoner.
I claimed the right of hospitality to strangers as commanded in the Koran.
Very clever, Mr. Bradley, that I doubt you will gain anything by your sophistry.
You must know also that the Koran puts a time limit on such hospitality.
Yes, I know.
Three days after which a guest may be treated according to the host's pleasure.
And I may as well inform you that I have some rather unusual ideas of pleasure.
Meanwhile, welcome, Mr. Bradley.
The guard took me to a suite of rooms ravishly furnished and left me alone.
I stood at the window for a long time looking out at the desert night,
the distant ridges black and pale silver in the moonlight.
I knew Beth was somewhere in the fort, and I had to find her and talk to her.
Just a minute.
What do you want?
Let's say you come.
Come where?
You come now.
All right. Let's go.
Well, I have a choice.
Oh, naturally. Dinner is never a compulsory affair for a guest.
Of course, I could have arranged something more elaborate if I had known you were coming.
If you'd known I was coming, I wouldn't be sitting here now.
That's quite possible.
I'm not going to be sitting here.
I'm going to be sitting here.
Oh, that's good.
I'd like to go to a room with you and talk to you.
I'd like to talk to you.
I'm sorry.
I'm just going to sit here for a while.
I'd like to sit here.
Why don't you sit here?
I wouldn't.
I wouldn't be sitting here now.
That's quite possible.
Yes, we're real clowns.
Of course it is possible.
You may not be a typical specimen.
Every country has its fair share of rash fools.
But somehow I...
Oh, here comes our other guest.
There.
I imagine this may be a bit of a surprise to her.
Good evening, my dear.
Won't you join us?
I've already told you.
You all right, Beth?
Yes, I...
You shouldn't have come here.
I sure did.
You are not being very hospitable, my dear.
And Mr. Bradley has, I might say,
demanded my hospitality
by taking advantage of a passage of the Koran
which was written, I'm inclined to suspect,
in one of the Prophet's less inspired moments.
So had...
However, in qala, so be it,
for the traditional three days.
Afterwards?
Well...
It will depend on my disposition at the moment.
Tell him about our plans, my dear.
What plans, Beth?
What is he talking about?
You will have to forgive her.
The natural modesty of a young girl in love.
Beth and I are being married tomorrow.
A lonely addition to my household,
don't you think so, Mr. Bradley?
Johnny, I...
I find her completely fascinating.
Of course, I want to compromise a bit with tradition, I imagine.
Beth would hardly be satisfied with all the old ways.
But since she too is willing to compromise...
Well, my dear?
Is it true that...
Well, are you going to marry him?
Are you?
Yes.
I'm sorry, Johnny.
You should not have come here.
Going back to my quarters.
I can't say very well.
Beth, wait.
I want to talk to you.
But I was sorry, Johnny.
There is nothing more to say.
I told you.
The brother grows by heart.
Go back to Aiden.
Forget about this.
Goodbye, Johnny.
I paced the floor of my quarters,
cursing myself for being fool enough to come.
It was after midnight by now,
the port was dark and sad.
I'd gotten in safely now to get out.
I moved quietly to the door and listened.
There was no sound outside.
I turned the handle slowly.
The door opened and there in the corner
stood a veiled woman.
You are very foolish, Mr. Bradley.
Everybody is telling me that.
Should I know you?
No.
No, I am Tara Dalisi, wife of Fahd.
Wife?
Yes, at present his only wife.
And I would prefer it to remain so.
Sorry, I'm out of it.
Better go talk to Beth Tisha'a.
Why?
I've got nothing to do with it now.
If that's what she wants, it's her business.
What she wants?
Fahd asked what she wanted.
What do you mean?
Oh, is it so different in your country, Mr. Bradley?
Can any woman be sure what she wants
unless some man tells her and then proves it?
So?
If I help you escape from here tonight,
will you take Beth Tisha'a with you
and keep her with you?
It might not be so easy.
She may not want to go.
What she wants, what she wants.
What do you want, Mr. Bradley?
All right.
You've got a deal.
Twenty minutes later, I was outside the fort
waiting in a dark grove of olives
with two horses tied nearby.
Watching a tiny door in a high stone wall.
Ten more minutes passed, I started to get uneasy.
Tara seemed to know what she was doing,
but with breath, I figured she had her hands full.
Then the door opened, two figures in white
stood for a moment in the dark entrance.
Then one of them hurried toward me, the door closed.
I stepped from behind the tree.
Beth.
Johnny.
Over here.
Hurry.
There's really no need to hurry, Mr. Bradley.
No, because she's going anywhere.
Tara really shouldn't have encouraged you
to wander around in the night air this way, my dear.
Are your hands, Mr. Bradley?
Put them up, please.
I can't argue with a gun.
Very wise of you.
Especially since you've seen fit to forsake my hospitality.
You see, I'm no longer obliged to treat you as a guest.
What are you going to do, Fahad?
What would you do, Mr. Bradley,
with a man who took advantage of your generous nature,
and attempted to plunder you of your most prized possession,
who pretended to go, stop, what are you doing?
Just this.
All right, go ahead and shoot if you want to kill Beth.
Oh, a sample of American chivalry?
No, common sense.
For added precaution, I'm holding my own gun in her back.
Don't come any closer.
You're not mine, Fahad.
It's crazy enough to do it.
I'll admit I'm at somewhat of a loss, Mr. Bradley.
What are you going to do?
I'm leaving here on those horses.
I'm taking Beth with me.
You try to stop us, I'll kill her.
And gain what?
Nothing, but I won't lose anything either.
You've never intended to let me leave here alive.
At least I'll take her with me one way or another.
You must be insane.
Also practical.
Because you'll never convince her people that you didn't kill her.
I know what a blood feud means, and if does it, so do you.
Now, do you want one on your hands?
Or do you turn around and walk back to that fort and let us go?
I think perhaps you're mad enough to do it.
I'm mad, plenty mad.
All right, make up your mind.
Well, there are, after all, a rather large number of women in this world.
But a man has only one life.
And if he's sensible, he prefers to keep it as peaceful as possible.
Good night, Mr. Bradley.
Miles away, certain finally that we weren't being followed, we pulled the horses to a stop.
Want to rest a few minutes?
Yes.
There you go.
I'll give you a hand down.
Thank you.
I'm not used to this.
There was a farm when I could ride all day.
Oh?
I thought you said the old ways of the desert stayed with a person.
They died hard.
Johnny, I only said that because...
Look, I didn't ask you if you wanted to go back to Aden.
Nevertheless, I'm taking you there.
After that, you're on your own.
Oh, Johnny, you are such a fool.
Oh, you too, hmm?
I only said what I did tonight because of you.
If I had not agreed to marry him,
my heart would have been distangled before morning.
Because of me?
I love you, Johnny.
So much so that I would rather you would shot me back than when you threatened to...
and to leave me with him.
Come here, darling.
Johnny.
You know something, honey?
I couldn't have shot you.
I didn't have a gun.