Harold Lamb

“ When the out-riders dismounted, the singing girl left the sledge and motioned for Hugh to come with her.
Sword in hand, he walked beside her to a stone church hidden in the grove—a strange little church, for all it bore a cross carved above the arched entrance—with a round tower and only narrow embrasures for windows.
“Nay,” said Rusudan, “we of the Khaukesh follow Christ, as our fathers have done. See, the chapel is like to a guarded tower. Have we not defended our faith and our churches with the sword?” ”

“ It would be a sin to slay an envoy, and I told him that you were under my protection.”
“If he seeks me,” put in Hugh bluntly, “it is not my wish to claim protection. Tell him so.”
Rusudan's small lips puckered.
“Ei, I do not want either of you killed. Men are like stupid old boars that tear one another and do not care what happens to all the rest.”
“Khatun,” the crusader asked gravely, “Princess, why did you take Shotha Kupri's place in the sledge?”
“Why? The road was not safe for you. Shotha Kupri has feuds with other clans; even a Tcherkessian would not lift hand against me.” ”

“ Hugh stood up at once, casting off the fur lap-robes, letting in the drift and the wind, and Rusudan who seemed able to read his thoughts half-formed, mocked him.
“Go and seek in the snow! Neither road nor village will you find. Am I to bring spies into Tphilis? Nay, the agreement was that you alone should come.”
“If harm comes to them”—Hugh thought of Subotai and the Horde that was beginning to weary of eating and sleeping.
“You will be alone. Are you afraid? Fear is no friend in the Khaukesh.” ”