"For me? How?"
Then briefly he related how we had met the remnant of Samory's invading force and defeated them, so that not a single fugitive remained.
"These savages fought merely for their own lives, not for me," she said with a supercilious sneer, regarding the half-clad natives with disdain. "We in Mo desire not the introduction of such creatures as these."
"Are not my friends welcome?" Omar asked, pale with anger. "A Sanom hath never yet turned from his palace those who have proved themselves his friends."
"Neither hath a Sanom sought the aid of savages," answered the Great White Queen, with a glance of withering scorn.
"Adversity sometimes causeth us to seek strange alliances," my friend argued. "These men of the Dagomba, Kona, their head man, and Scarsmere, my friend from the land of the white men, have given me aid, and if thou accordest them no welcome, then I, Omar, in the name of my ancestors, the Nabas and the Nayas, will give them greeting, and provide them with befitting entertainment while they are within our walls."
His words caused instant consternation. The will of the Naya was not to be thwarted. Her every wish was law; a single word from her meant life or death. This openly-expressed opposition was, to the court, a most terrible offence, punishable by death to all others save the heir.
The Naya, her thin lips tightly set and cruelty lurking in the corners of her mouth, rose slowly with an air of terrible anger.
"Does our son Omar thus defy us?" she asked with grim harshness.
"I defy thee not O queen-mother," answered my friend, clasping his hands resolutely behind his back, and standing with his legs slightly apart. "I bring unto thee those who have fought for me, and have been my companions through many perils, expecting welcome. Were it not for them I, the last of our regal line, would be no longer living, and at thy death our kingdom would have been without a ruler."
