"If not, it were well for thee to die this night, O Heaven-born."
"That was my thought."
"Thou hast little need to worry, lord." Woman-like she shifted to suit his humour. "He is a man: I answer for that, though … he is no fool. Still, when the hour strikes, what he must, that will he endure for the sake of that which Naraini hath promised him."
"Or for another," Salig Singh growled into his beard.
"I did not hear."
"I said naught. I am distraught."
"Be of good heart," she comforted him still further. "If he doth fail to survive the Ordeal—Har Dyal Rutton hath died. If he doth survive—"
"Har Dyal Rutton shall die within the hour," Salig Singh concluded grimly. "But … I am troubled. I cannot but ask myself continually: Were it not wiser to confess failure and abide the outcome?"
"How long wouldst thou abide the outcome, my king, after thou hadst informed the Council of this deception to which thou hast been too willing and ready a party?… He who misled you died a dog's death. But thou—art thou in love with death?"
"Unless thy other name be Death, Naraini …"