Swords From the Desert by Harold Lamb Page B

There was heavy dust and smoke in the air, and a great outcry. I could no longer see Menas.
    Anger gripped me, at loss of the horse, and I ran forward, catching the rein of the Frank as he lowered his sword.
    "Dog of a Nazarene," I cried, "the horse is mine, and if there is aught of honor in thy soul, thou wilt dismount and let the sword be judge between us."
    Now in my haste, I had spoken in my own tongue. Half his face was hidden by his vizor, but I saw his lips smile.
    "The steed is mine," he made reply in Arabic, "and I will prove it upon thy body, 0 son of Yamen."
    And he cast himself from the saddle. Striding toward me, he let slip his shield, seeing that I had none. So I knew him for a brave man-aye, and soon I knew him for a swordsman.
    His blade was lighter than most Frankish weapons, and his long arm lashed out so swiftly, I gave ground. Once I parried, and he beat down my arm.
    For a space we struck without ceasing, I striving to slash within the other's arm, yet there was no evading his sweeping stroke. The mail links on my shoulder were hewn through and I could feel the blood running against my ribs.
    Again I gave ground and as he strode forward I leaped, striking at his neck. My blade met steel that was not yielding. And I, Khalil, stood weaponless, my scimitar clattering on the stones. The Frank had struck it from my hand with his sword.
    "Yield thee, youth!" he said, and again his lips smiled.
    I had been too sure of my swiftness, too certain of my strength. Eh, I made the head bow of submission, saying-
    "This also was to come upon my head."
    And then Khutb, who had been standing near, walked up to me and thrust his nose against my hand. The Frank threw up his steel vizor and loosed the coif at his throat.
    I looked into his eyes and behold, he was of my height, and his skin was dark as a desert man's. His eyes were blue, and clear, and surely his age was no greater than mine. Moreover the damp hair at his brow was black. On his sun-stained surcoat there was no device, but upon the shield he had thrown down was a red cross, greatly scarred and stained.
    Still I looked at him. He had been riding Khutb, and a thought came to me.
    "Art thou the Lord Ricard, from Palestine?" I asked.
    "Aye so," he assented, "I am Richard from Palestine. Who art thou, to cry my name?"
    "Thy prisoner, Khalil el Khadr, chief of a thousand blades. Nor will I cry aman to thee, so slay if thou wilt."
    He glanced around and sheathed his long sword, then folded his arms, planting his feet wide, to consider me, smiling.
    "Was the horse thine, 0 Khalil?"
    "He was. I stole him from the mock-emperor, and that jackal of a Bokharian gave him up to thee."
    "Aye so."
    "And now have I a word for thee. The Frankish maid who waits thy coming is yet unharmed and unscathed. But it is a task of tasks to shield her, and-go thou and speak to her."
    He followed my eyes to the statue, where the barbarian girl was standing, half hidden by the smoke.
    "That is the daughter of the castellan of Edessa to whom thou didst give the gray kohlani as a betrothal gift." I judged that he was surprised beholding her in youth's garments, for he looked again at me, narrowly, and again at Khutb.
    "Come!" he said. The Lord Richard was a man sparing of words. Striding toward the statue, he came to stand beneath it and that elfin Irene smiled down at him. Though she wore cloak and vest, tunic and pantaloons, her beauty was none the less for that.
    The cold blue eyes of my lord Richard glowed, and he caught his breath. His two hands he held up to her, and she leaped down. Gently he placed her upon her feet, nor did he take his hands swiftly from her waist.
    It seemed that she, who had been glib of tongue with me, was stricken with his silence, for she lowered her eyes and answered hardly at all, though he questioned her. What passed between them was in the Frankish speech, and to this day I know naught of it.
    My lord Richard paid no heed to what went on, to right or left.