"I do not claim to rule the storm-wind, maiden." The leech's voice was raised in shrill protest.
"Yet you do not lack knowledge of powerful spells," came back the quick response. "Tell me again of that which saved you from the wolves in Fulda Wood."
"It was a little thing, maiden, for a geber whose learning has saved the lives of princes. Yet the most learned might well have perished in the fangs of those fierce children of Ahriman. Only by chance did I have the magic drug to throw behind me and stay them, while the Jew and I fled on to the Christian monastery."
"But the drug? You did not tell me--"
"A foul-smelling resin from Arabia. Others than I have tested its charm over the grey demons of the forest. It will stay the wolf-pack on a hot trail, or draw them from so far as they may scent its odor. But as to black magic--" The voice of the leech sank to a whisper.
For a time the words of neither speaker were audible. Then Fastrada's voice vibrated on the air, sharp and distinct: "How! Even the Magian chief? Listen, leech; stand my friend, and I pledge you sure gain in the king's court. My word carries favor among his lords."
"A bargain, maiden! Help me to a fair standing in the court of Karolah, and I give you a talisman of greatest potency,--a ring set with the magic stone whose hues shift and change even as the tints of your eyes."
"Its powers--?"
"To the weak it brings destruction; to the strong, honors--"
"And love?"