He had been working at his helm as he spoke, for the rest of his armour was now mended. He had drawn out the sharp spear-head of bronze, and was balancing it in his hand and trying its edge.
“A good blade,” he said; “better was never hammered. It went near to doing its work, Sidonian,” and he turned to Kurri as he spoke. “Two things of thine I had: thy life and thy spear-point. Thy life I gave thee, thy spear-point thou didst lend me. Here, take it again,” and he tossed the spear-head to the Queen’s Jeweller.
“I thank thee, lord,” answered the Sidonian, thrusting it in his girdle; but he muttered between his teeth, “The gifts of enemies are gifts of evil.”
The Wanderer did on his mail, set the helmet on his head, and spoke to Rei. “Come forth, friend, and show me thy city.”
But Rei was watching the smile on the face of the Sidonian, and he deemed it cruel and crafty and warlike, like the laugh of the Sardana of the sea. He said nought, but called a guard of soldiers, and with the Wanderer he passed the Palace gates and went out into the city.
The sight was strange, and it was not thus that the old man, who loved his land, would have had the Wanderer see it.
From all the wealthy houses, and from many of the poorer sort, rang the wail of the women mourners as they sang their dirges for the dead.
But in the meaner quarters many a hovel was marked with three smears of blood, dashed on each pillar of the door and on the lintel; and the sound that came from these dwellings was the cry of mirth and festival. There were two peoples; one laughed, one lamented. And in and out of the houses marked with the splashes of blood women were ever going with empty hands, or coming with hands full of jewels, of gold, of silver rings, of cups, and purple stuffs. Empty they went out, laden they came in, dark men and women with keen black eyes and the features of birds of prey. They went, they came, they clamoured with delight among the mourning of the men and women of Khem, and none laid a hand on them, none refused them.
One tall fellow snatched at the staff of Rei.
“Lend me thy staff, old man,” he said, sneering; “lend me thy jewelled staff for my journey. I do but borrow it; when Yakûb comes from the desert thou shalt have it again.”