“I love thee,” the Afridi answered simply. “Thou art a man after mine own heart. Turn! Go back before it is too late!”
King shook his head.
“Be warned!”
Ismail reached out a hairy-backed hand that shook with half-suppressed emotion.
“When we reach Khinjan, and I come within reach of her orders again, then I am her man, not thine!”
King smiled, glancing again at the gold bracelet on his arm.
“I look like her man, too!”
“Thou!” Ismail's scorn was well feigned if it was not real. “Thou chicken running to the hand that will pluck thy breast-feathers! Listen! Abdurrahman--he of Khabul--and may Allah give his ugly bones no peace!--Abdurrahman of Khabul sought the secret of the Caves. He sent his men to set an ambush. They caught twenty coming out of Khinjan on a raid. The twenty were carried to Khabul and put to torture there. How many, think you, told the secret under torture? They died cursing Abdurrahman to his face and he died without the secret! May God recompense him with the fire that burns forever and scalding water and ashes to eat! May rats eat his bones!”
“Had Abdurrahman this?” asked King, touching the bracelet.
“Nay! He would have given one eye for it, but none would trade with him! He knew of it, but never saw it.”