“How can she take another husband when she has one living?”
“True; indeed that is a question which I have considered, but the answer to it is that men die. It is the common lot, and the Khan has been drinking very heavily of late.”
“You mean that men can be murdered,” said Leo angrily. “Well, I will have nothing to do with such a crime. Do you understand me?”
As the words passed his lips I heard a rustle and turned my head. Behind us were curtains beyond which the Shaman slept, kept his instruments of divination and worked out his horoscopes. Now they had been drawn, and between them, in her royal array, stood the Khania still as a statue.
“Who was it that spoke of crime?” she asked in a cold voice. “Was it you, my lord Leo?”
Rising from his chair, he faced her and said—“Lady, I am glad that you have heard my words, even if they should vex you.”
“Why should it vex me to learn that there is one honest man in this court who will have naught to do with murder? Nay, I honour you for those words. Know also that no such foul thoughts have come near to me. Yet, Leo Vincey, that which is written—is written.”
“Doubtless, Khania; but what is written?”
“Tell him, Shaman.”
Now Simbri passed behind the curtain and returned thence with a roll from which he read: “The heavens have declared by their signs infallible that before the next new moon, the Khan Rassen will lie dead at the hands of the stranger lord who came to this country from across the mountains.”