"And I have done many things since then, my lord, as have you," came the answer. Iftikhar's eyes seemed hot irons to pierce through his enemy, when he replied:—
"Between us two lies so great a hate, that if we were both in Gehenna, I think we would forget our pains in joy of seeing the other scorching."
"That is well said, my lord. But why detain me? I know all this."
Iftikhar's voice sank yet lower, that none of the great company might hear. "You had your day at Aleppo, but to-day is mine. Kerbogha holds your host in the hollow of his hand, yet at my word he will let you march unhindered to Jerusalem."
"I do not follow you, Cid Iftikhar."
The voice became a mere whisper, but how hoarse! "Deliver up to me Mary Kurkuas safely, and I will swear by Allah the Great, that Kerbogha raises the siege!"
Richard laughed in his turn now, for it was joy to see his enemy's pain. "My lord, you cannot tempt me! Praise God Mary Kurkuas is anywhere but in Antioch among our starving host!" But even the Norman almost trembled when he saw the storm of blind fury on the Ismaelian's face.
"Where, as Allah lives,—where is the Star of the Greeks?" raged Iftikhar, his voice unconsciously rising.
"Not all your deaths and torments in the dungeons of El Halebah will wring that from me."
"Then by the Apostle of Allah!" foamed Iftikhar; and he clutched at the Norman's arm, while seeking his own hilt. Kerbogha cut him short:—