But it suited Marzak not at all that the matter should be thus dismissed, that it should conclude upon a note of weakening from his father, upon what indeed amounted to a speech of reconciliation. Before Sakr-el-Bahr could make answer he had cut in to set him a question laden with wicked intent.
“How will thy bride beguile the season of thine absence, O Sakr-el-Bahr?”
“I have lived too little with women to be able to give thee an answer,” said the corsair.
Marzak winced before a reply that seemed to reflect upon himself. But he returned to the attack.
“I compassionate thee that art the slave of duty, driven so soon to abandon the delight of her soft arms. Where hast thou bestowed her, O captain?”
“Where should a Muslim bestow his wife but according to the biddings of the Prophet—in the house?”
Marzak sneered. “Verily, I marvel at thy fortitude in quitting her so soon!”
But Asad caught the sneer, and stared at his son. “What cause is there to marvel in that a true Muslim should sacrifice his inclinations to the service of the Faith?” His tone was a rebuke; but it left Marzak undismayed. The youth sprawled gracefully upon his cushions, one leg tucked under him.
“Place no excess of faith in appearances, O my father!” he said.
“No more!” growled the Basha. “Peace to thy tongue, Marzak, and may Allah the All-knowing smile upon our expedition, lending strength to our arms to smite the infidel to whom the fragrance of the garden is forbidden.”