Arab countries -- Fiction; Crusades -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485 -- Fiction
“Judge us not harshly,” he said, speaking slowly, who, for his own ends
wished to gain time, “you who have read the letter of our lord. See
you, these were my commands: To secure the lady Rose of the World as
best I might, but if possible without bloodshed. Now I was
reconnoitring the country with a troop of the sailors from my ship who
are but poor fighters, and a few of my own people, when my spies
brought me word that she had ridden out attended by only two men, and
surely I thought that already she was in my hands. But the knights
foiled me by strategy and strength, and you know the end of it. So
afterwards my messenger presented the letter, which, indeed, should
have been done at first. The letter failed also, for neither you, nor
the Princess”—and he bowed to Rosamund—“could be bought. More, the
whole country was awakened; you were surrounded with armed men, the
knightly brethren kept watch and ward over you, and you were about to
fly to London, where it would have been hard to snare you. Therefore,
because I must, I—who am a prince and an emir, who also, although you
remember it not, have crossed swords with you in my youth; yes, at
Harenc—became a dealer in drugged wine.
“Now hearken. Yield you, Sir Andrew, who have done enough to make your
name a song for generations, and accept the love of Salah-ed-din, whose
word you have, the word that, as you know well, cannot be broken, which
I, the lord El-Hassan—for no meaner man has been sent upon this
errand—plight to you afresh. Yield you, and save your life, and live on
in honour, clinging to your own faith, till Azrael takes you from the
pleasant fields of Baalbec to the waters of Paradise—if such there be
for infidels, however gallant.
“For know, this deed must be done. Did we return without the princess
Rose of the World, we should die, every one of us, and did we offer her
harm or insult, then more horribly than I can tell you. This is no
fancy of a great king that drives him on to the stealing of a woman,
although she be of his own high blood. The voice of God has spoken to
Salah-ed-din by the mouth of his angel Sleep. Thrice has Allah spoken
in dreams, telling him who is merciful, that through your daughter and
her nobleness alone can countless lives be saved; therefore, sooner
than she should escape him, he would lose even the half of all his
empire. Outwit us, defeat us now, capture us, cause us to be tortured
and destroyed, and other messengers would come to do his bidding—
indeed, they are already on the way. Moreover, it is useless to shed
more blood, seeing it is written in the Books that this lady, Rose of
the World, must return to the East where she was begot, there to fulfil
her destiny and save the lives of men.”
“Then, emir El-Hassan, I shall return as a spirit,” said Rosamund
proudly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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