Harold Lamb

“ No one went near the white camel and, when a halt was made, the black slaves put up a cloth barrier about her tent. So Mirakhon Pasha made it clear that she was his slave woman.
The pasha himself did not go near her at first. It pleased him at act as if he had forgotten her, and besides, many things happened.
The caravan came to the edge of the dry lands—a sunken plain without road or village. Here the south wind sweeps the plain daily with its fiery breath. The wells are deep, the water poor, and the wells lie a long march apart. ”

“ Thus we talked, the man Subbul asleep at last—having eaten—under the tamarisk, and the cool morning wind stirring the white salt under our fingers. Perhaps it was the change from suffering and uncertainty to hope, or perhaps it was no more than the food, but Radha's spirits soared, and the wine of her laughter warmed even the thin veins of an old man.
“What men are these?” she asked suddenly, springing up to stare into the sun that was no more than spear high over the plain. ”

“ Now Farash Agha and his sipahis all carried the tufted lances, while the men of Karadak had come forth to meet us, armed with shield and sword and bow. And the pasha frowned, ill-pleased.
“By the breath of Ali,” he asked impatiently, “where is the man who will venture against a lance—with a sword alone?”
“Here,” growled the one called Byram Khan, nodding at his master. “Without a shield, he has guarded himself against a spear and a galloping horse—ay, until the rider tired. Well do I know, for I was the rider.” ”

“ When he could see a little, he drew his sword and stepped forward, his beard jutting out, his eyes flaming.
“Do not slay him!” The Rajput girl cried out suddenly, and grasped the sword-arm of Farash Agha. “Do not slay!”
But Sidri Singh still advanced, and I saw Mirakhon Pasha reach behind him. A servant thrust a javelin into his hand and he bent forward swiftly in the saddle; his right arm whipped down, and the javelin flashed in the air. Sidri Singh was not five paces distant, and the weapon struck beneath his brow, passing through his eye, the point coming out through his skull. ”

“ In my land, across the gulf, the chieftains obey the customs of the clan, but here in Iran it was otherwise. In a moment I saw the proof of it.
Three of the Red Hats dismounted, at a sign from their leader; they ran suddenly at the Turkoman who was too bewildered with wine to take heed. One caught his arms behind his back, another seized his girdle and beard, while the third drew a small and thin knife.
The Turkoman fought, like a buffalo, twisting and bellowing and butting. Eh, the moment had gone by when he could have drawn his weapons—and what avail to struggle without steel in the hand? ”

“ Farash Agha swore. “Dost name me boaster?”
“Art thou the one?” The young lord of Karadak spoke with disdain, scarcely veiled. “Come, my lord ambassador, wilt thou be judge of the joust?”
“What is this?” Mirakhon Pasha frowned.
“The play of Karadak, my lord. We have little skill at play of words or dancing, but it is our custom to mount and ride forth on such clear nights to exercise in arms. Yet thou art weary from the road. So this night we shall run a few courses in the courtyard.” ”

“ He spoke sadly, thinking of the little price that had been paid him for the camel, and I also thought with regret of the white Bickanir, because my desire to leave Bandar Abbasi increased within me.
“Still,” muttered the Baluchi, “it was worse for him. He spoke in the teeth of Mirakhon Pasha. And he tasted his reward.”
“Justly?” I asked, thinking of the hadji and his saying that men should taste of their deeds.
“Vai!” The Baluchi shook his ringlets and smiled. “Mirakhon Pasha is the master of the horse. If he did not use torment at times, men would not fear him.” ”

“ There were Kurds in back of me—judging by the smell of wet wool and leather—and they groaned aloud when these lights appeared.
They were afraid of devils, and most afraid that they would be separated from their fellows. But the camel train, led by Mirakhon Pasha, seemed to find good footing. The light no longer shone from the ground, and the sky behind us became paler. The mist turned gray, and I made out that we were climbing out of the rushes and the salt swamps, upon firm clay. ”

“ They rose, making way for their guests. Then the broad face of the pasha grew dark, as I had seen it at Bandar Abbasi, and in the moment that Sidri Singh died. Like a wary boar, peering through the thicket, he scented the approach of something strange.
“O lord of my life,” cried Farash Agha, thrusting Fazl Ali aside and salaaming low to his master. “Have I thy leave to clip the ears of this cub?”
“Look to thine own nose,” cried one of the Rajputs.
Farash Agha glared about him, hand on sword-hilt. For the slicing of a nose there is only one reason, among the Iranis. ”

“ I could hear the Kurds talking among themselves, and at times, when one spoke in the Irani tongue, I understood that they were weighing the worth of the treasure in the forty camel-loads. They knew that Mirakhon Pasha was lost in the dry lands.
“The camels will go well enough for two days,” observed Sharm Beg, “but the horses are good for little more.”
At such a time, when the road is lost, and the men are restless and uncertain, each follower begins to think what he himself may have to do. And the thoughts of all the Kurds were upon the shah's treasure. ”

“ Choose thou a lance, and I shall take the sword. If thou touch my garments, or draw blood, the victory is thine. If I parry the onset, taking no harm, I am winner of the joust.”
The Iranis exchanged glances, being greatly amazed. They were in no mood to pass by a challenge, and even the pasha saw some rare sport before him. Warriors, minstrels and nobles passed from the hall, jostling and talking, some bearing with them the great silver candelabra and the Rajputs followed. Each man of Karadak paused where their young khan stood, and with each he spoke in his own speech. ”

“ Mirakhon Pasha had come out of the desert, following no road, to the tower of Awa Khan, the Rajput, the kinsman of Radha.
“And thou art my guest,” laughed the youth in the saddle of the black charger.
THERE is a time for speech, and a time for silence and thought. That first evening in Karadak I kept close to the young lord of the castle, saying nothing at all. I never doubted that this was the place Sidri Singh and Radha had been seeking when the old warrior fell ill, and the girl turned aside to take refuge in Bandar Abbasi. ”