“Oh, nonsense! Why, she wouldn't dare!”
“She confessed before she—she confessed! Have I the heavenborn's leave?”
“If you wish it.”
“And to keep the key?”
“I suppose so, if you think it wise.”
He strode to the inner door and locked it and hid the key in an inside pocket of his tunic.
“And now, heavenborn,” he said, “I crave your leave to bring my half-brother to the presence!”
He scarcely waited for an answer, but walked to the window, leaned out of it and whistled. A minute later he was answered by the sound of fingernails scrabbling on the outer door. He turned the key and opened it.
“Enter!” he ordered.
Barefooted and ragged, but as clean as a soldier on parade and with huge knots of muscles bulging underneath his copper skin, a Rajput entered, bowing his six feet of splendid manhood almost to the floor.