CHAPTER LV.
Capture of a Harem
TANCRED and Fakredeen had been absent from Gindarics for two or three days, making an excursion in the neighbouring districts, and visiting several of those chieftains whose future aid might be of much importance to them. Away from the unconscious centre of many passions and intrigues, excited by the novelty of their life, sanguine of the ultimate triumph of his manoeuvres, and at times still influenced by his companion, the demeanour of the young Emir of Lebanon to his friend resumed something of its wonted softness, confidence, and complaisance. They were once more in sight of the wild palace-fort of Astarte; spurring their horses, they dashed before their attendants over the plain, and halted at the huge portal of iron, while the torches were lit, and preparations were made for the passage of the covered way.
When they entered the principal court, there were unusual appearances of some recent and considerable occurrence: groups of Turkish soldiers, disarmed, reclining camels, baggage and steeds, and many of the armed tribes of the mountain.
‘What is all this?’ inquired Fakredeen.
‘’Tis the harem of the Pasha of Aleppo,’ replied a warrior, ‘captured on the plain, and carried up into the mountains to our Queen of queens.’
‘The war begins,’ said Fakredeen, looking round at Tancred with a glittering eye.
‘Women make war on women,’ he replied.
‘’Tis the first step,’ said the Emir, dismounting; ‘I care not how it comes. Women are at the bottom of everything. If it had not been for the Sultana Mother, I should have now been Prince of the Mountain.’