“I come of my own free will, Salah-ed-din, as your emirs can tell you; ask them. For the rest, my kinsman must answer for himself.”
“Sultan,” said Wulf, “I counselled the lady Rosamund that she should come—not that she needed such counsel—and, having given it, I accompanied her by right of blood and of Justice, since her offence against you is mine also. Her fate is my fate.”
“I have no quarrel against you whom I forgave, therefore you must take your own way to follow the path she goes.”
“Doubtless,” answered Wulf, “being a Christian among many sons of the Prophet, it will not be hard to find a friendly scimitar to help me on that road. I ask of your goodness that her fate may be my fate.”
“What!” said Saladin. “You are ready to die with her, although you are young and strong, and there are so many other women in the world?”
Wulf smiled and nodded his head.
“Good. Who am I that I should stand between a fool and his folly? I grant the boon. Your fate shall be her fate; Wulf D’Arcy, you shall drink of the cup of my slave Rosamund to its last bitterest dregs.”
“I desire no less,” said Wulf coolly.
Now Saladin looked at Rosamund and asked,
“Woman, why have you come here to brave my vengeance? Speak on if you have aught to ask.”