Now in the midst of an intense silence Peroa answered,
“Amada, the Royal Lady of Egypt, cannot be sent to dwell in the House of Women of the Great King without the consent of the lord Shabaka, whose she is.”
“Shabaka for the fourth time!” said Idernes, glaring at me. “Then let Shabaka come too. Or his head in a basket will suffice, since that will save trouble afterwards, also some pain to Shabaka. Why, now I remember. It was this very Shabaka whom the Great King condemned to death by the boat for a crime against his Majesty, and who bought his life by promising to deliver to him the fairest and most learned woman in the world—the lady Amada of Egypt. And thus does the knave keep his oath!”
Now I leapt to my feet, as did most of those present. Only Amada kept her seat and looked at me.
“You lie!” I cried, “and were it not for your safe-conduct I would kill you for the lie.”
“I lie, do I?” sneered Idernes. “Speak then, you who were present, and tell this noble company whether I lie,” and he pointed to the hawk-eyed lord.
“He does not lie,” said the Captain. “I was in the Court of the Great King and heard yonder Shabaka purchase pardon by promising to hand over his cousin, the lady Amada, to the King. The pearls were entrusted to him as a gift to her and I see she wears them. The gold also of which mention has been made was to provide for her journey in state to the East, or so I heard. The cup was his guerdon, also a sum for his own purse.”
“It is false,” I shouted. “The name of Amada slipped my lips by chance—no more.”
“So it slipped your lips by chance, did it?” sneered Idernes. “Now, if you are wise, you will suffer the lady Amada to slip your hand, and not by chance. But let us have done with this cunning knave. Prince, will you hand over yonder fair woman, or will you not?”
“Satrap, I will not,” answered Peroa. “The demand is an insult put forward to force us to rebellion, since there is no man in Egypt who will not be ready to die in defence of the Royal Lady of Egypt.”