Nadan's indecision was ended quickly when Judas saluted her. While the champion observed due formality, he was also as familiar as her father or a lover might have been in the presence of others. Nadan's own sense of enchantment by her beauty made him keen to detect what he thought to be the same feeling in Judas.
"Well did the wily Jew leave the choice to the woman herself, for he knew her decision," Nadan thought almost aloud. "Why did I not test the success of my errand by casting some gift into the spring of Dûk? The sacred dragon of the waters would have drifted it away, and thus I should have known of the deceit."
The Arab leaped upon his horse. With almost the celerity of a whirling simitar he turned Emir about in a circle. Rising in his stirrups, he twirled the spear around his head, and hurled it.
"Death to the Maccabæan!"
The weapon sped like a gleam of light to the spot where Deborah and Judas stood together. Before the crowd were fully aware of his movement the Arab had dashed through them, and was in flight. A single arrow close to his head sang its reply to his taunt.
Judas had seen the launching of Nadan's spear, and thrust Deborah behind him. He fended the missile by instantly bending, and with his arm diverted its direction. The spear glanced upward from his cuirass, and, curving like a swallow in the air, fell with broken shaft amid the rocks a hundred cubits beyond.
XXXV
WORSHIP BEFORE BATTLE
