“Thou!”
Her voice trembled with rage as she looked across to Al-Asad, who stood surrounded by men.
He shook his head.
“Thou art my woman!” he said simply, “and if I cannot have thee, thinkest thou that I would strive to bring back one thou lovest and who has escaped?”
“Thou fool! Bring him back dead, slung across thy shoulders——”
“Nay! I love him as a brother, let him go!”
“Then will I bring him back myself!”
The men looked at each other as she laughed shrilly and turned and ran across the plateau towards the stables, and gripped the Nubian as he made a movement to follow her.
“Let her be,” said the Patriarch. “She but makes mock of thee. What can a woman armed with a spear do against those who are fully armed? She will hide amongst the rocks until hunger drives her forth, then will we wed her to thee, O brother, or carry her to the sands of death, for we tire of her moods and would find her a master.”
But Zarah was in no vein for trickery.