“It seems, lady, that you know these knights.”
“I do—well. They are my brothers, from whom I was stolen when they were drugged and our father was killed.”
“How is that, lady, seeing that you are said to be the niece of Salah-ed-din? Are these knights, then, the nephews of Salah-ed-din?”
“Nay,” answered Rosamund, “they are my father’s sons, but of another wife.”
The answer appeared to satisfy Sinan, who fixed his eyes upon the pale beauty of Rosamund and asked no more questions. While he remained thus thinking, a noise arose at the end of the terrace, and the brethren, turning their heads, saw that the thick-set knight was striving to thrust his way through the guards who stood by the curtains and barred his path with the shafts of their spears.
Then it came into Godwin’s mind that just before Rosamund unveiled he had seen this knight suddenly turn and walk down the terrace.
The lord Sinan looked up at the sound and made a sign. Thereon two of the daïs sprang to their feet and ran towards the curtain, where they spoke with the knight, who turned and came back with them, though slowly, as one who is unwilling. Now his hood had fallen from his head, and Godwin and Wulf stared at him as he advanced, for surely they knew those great shoulders, those round black eyes, those thick lips, and that heavy jowl.
“Lozelle! It is Lozelle!” said Godwin.
“Ay,” echoed Rosamund, “it is Lozelle, the double traitor, who betrayed me first to the soldiers of Saladin, and, because I would have none of his love, next to this lord Sinan.”
Wulf heard, and, as Lozelle drew near to them, sprang forward with an oath and struck him across the face with his mailed hand. Instantly guards thrust themselves between them, and Sinan asked through Masouda: