“May Allah have inspired thee, O my lord!” she cried. And asked him: “What is thy resolve?”
“I go to seek a sign,” he answered her, and upon that departed, leaving her in a frame of mind that was far from easy.
She summoned Marzak, and bade him accompany his father, breathed swift instructions of what he should do and how do it.
“Thy fate has been placed in thine own hands,” she admonished him. “See that thou grip it firmly now.”
In the courtyard Marzak found his father in the act of mounting a white mule that had been brought him.
He was attended by his wazeer Tsamanni, Biskaine, and some other of his captains. Marzak begged leave to go with him. It was carelessly granted, and they set out, Marzak walking by his father’s stirrup, a little in advance of the others. For a while there was silence between father and son, then the latter spoke.
“It is my prayer, O my father, that thou art resolved to depose the faithless Sakr-el-Bahr from the command of this expedition.”
Asad considered his son with a sombre eye. “Even now the galeasse should be setting out if the argosy is to be intercepted,” he said. “If Sakr-el-Bahr does not command, who shall, in Heaven’s name?”
“Try me, O my father,” cried Marzak.
Asad smiled with grim wistfulness. “Art weary of life, O my son, that thou wouldst go to thy death and take the galeasse to destruction?”