The edge of Kasim's green turban again swept the ground, and he answered readily: "Mute with awe, the men of Pampeluna gaze upon the mighty Sultan of the Afranj. They wait for him to speak in kindness. Then will his faithful slaves rejoice."
The king's face relaxed its sternness. "It is well. What have you here?"
"The lowly gifts of a slave, who would lay them at the feet of his glorious lord."
"Saint John the Meek!" muttered Karl, and he made an impatient gesture. "Have your will, man."
The leech spoke a word to his fellows, who led the pack-mules forward. From one they unloaded and set out before the king a number of finely wrought silver vases, packed to the brim with precious spices. Costly as were these gifts, they met with little comment from the Franks; but when from the pack of the second mule the Berbers drew off roll after roll of gorgeous silks, none could restrain an expression of admiration.
Among the most eager to view the silks was Fastrada; and her cries of delight as Worad led her litter-mules farther forward instantly drew upon her the blinking gaze of Vali Kasim. Though the Arab had seen her but once before,--at the royal pavilion on the Garonne,--he remembered her perfectly. He now stared with lustful eyes at her soft beauty.
"Look, earl. One might say the swart kite sees quarry; he has ceased blinking," observed Liutrad, in Olvir's ear.
"Let him beware, then. Once a kite caught up a weasel,--you know the tale. But this kite's plumage is not to my liking."
"How so?"
"With an Arab, red bodes anger. I had it from Otkar."