‘And Abner his tens of thousands. Is it so? This business is for me only. Come on, Turk.’
‘Art thou Alroy?’
‘The same.’
‘The slayer of Alschiroch?’
‘Even so.’
‘A rebel and a murderer.’
‘What you please. Look to yourself.’
The Hebrew Prince flung a javelin at the Seljuk. It glanced from the breastplate; but Hassan Subah staggered in his seat. Recovering, he charged Alroy with great force. Their scimitars crossed, and the blade of Hassan shivered.
‘He who sold me that blade told me it was charmed, and could be broken only by a caliph,’ said Hassan Subah. ‘He was a liar.’
‘As it may be,’ said Alroy, and he cut the Seljuk to the ground. Abner had dispersed his comrades. Alroy leaped from his fainting steed, and, mounting the ebon courser of his late enemy, dashed again into the thickest of the fight.