H. A. Lamb

“ Show me the way out of Alamut."
"And your promise," queried Berca, "to cut off the head of Halen ibn Shaddah?"
Khlit was silent. True, he had promised, and was in honor bound to Berca.
"Likewise, Berca," he said moodily, "you said that there was a plan. Why do you keep the plan hidden in your mind, if there is one? Better be in good faith with me. Say how Halen ibn Shaddah can be killed."
"How should I kill so strong a man?" she laughed softly. "The Koran reads that Allah weakens the stratagems of misbelievers. Also that they who store up evil shall taste what they store up. ”

“ Berca came and sat by Khlit's head, feeling his hot forehead with a small hand. She wrapped her thin cloak tightly about her and rested her chin on her two hands, gazing at the round moon in the water.
"A man must be crafty and wise," she repeated softly, "yet, lo, it is a weak girl, a creature of the false prophet's paradise, who leads him. ”

“ It is many generations since Tatar horsemen rode into Persia for conquest."
"The answer is under your blind eyes, Father of Battles. Am I not beautiful as the rose garden of Tiflis in Spring? Is not my hair dark as the mantle of Melik, and my skin white as aloes under the dew?" ”