Harold Lamb,
Rusudan — VIII. The Eye of Battle
(1927)
“ But the squire lingered, and spoke with flushed face, “My Lord, some say you have fellowship with the magicians of Cathay, and others that the glaive [1] in your hand hath a power beyond human might. Alas, I know not. Yet when the fever was in you the high-born Rusudan tended your hurts. She cherished your life. My Lord, protect her from the Horde.” As if frightened by his own daring or believing that Hugh might summon up some ally of the realm of darkness, the boy hurried off on his mission. ”
