Wulf glared at the Al-je-bal, whose head by good fortune was turned away, and so fierce was the rage swelling in his heart that a mist seemed to gather before his eyes, and through it this devilish chief of a people of murderers, clothed in his robe of flaming red, looked like a man steeped in blood.  The thought came to him suddenly that he would make him what he looked, and his hand passed to his sword-hilt.  But Godwin saw the terror in Masouda’s eyes, saw Wulf’s hand also, and guessed what was about to chance.  With a swift movement of his arm he struck a golden dish from the table to the marble floor, then said, in a clear voice in French: 

“Brother, be not so awkward; pick up that dish and answer the lord Sinan as is your right—­I mean, touching the matter of Lozelle.”

Wulf stooped to obey, and his mind cleared which had been so near to madness.

“I wish it not, lord,” he said, “who, if I can, have your good leave to slay this fellow on the third night from now.  If I fail, then let my brother take my place, but not before.”

“Yes, I forgot,” said Sinan.  “So I decreed, and that will be a fight I wish to see.  If he kills you then your brother shall meet him.  And if he kills you both, then perhaps I, Sinan, will meet him—­in my own fashion.  Sweet lady, knowing where the course is laid, say, do you fear to see this fray?”

Rosamund’s face paled, but she answered proudly: 

“Why should I fear what my brethren do not fear?  They are brave knights, bred to arms, and God, in Whose hand are all our destinies—­even yours, O Lord of Death—­He will guard the right.”

When this speech was translated to him Sinan quailed a little.  Then he answered: 

“Lady, know that I am the Voice and Prophet of Allah—­ay, and his sword to punish evil-doers and those who do not believe.  Well, if what I hear is true, your brethren are skilled horsemen who even dared to pass my servant on the narrow bridge, so victory may rest with them.  Tell me which of them do you love the least, for he shall first face the sword of Lozelle.”

Now as Rosamund prepared herself to answer Masouda scanned her face through her half-closed eyes.  But whatever she may have felt within, it remained calm and cold as though it were cut in stone.

“To me they are as one man,” she said.  “When one speaks, both speak.  I love them equally.”

“Then, Guest of my heart, it shall go as I have said.  Brother Blue-eyes shall fight first, and if he falls then Brother Grey-eyes.  The feast is ended, and it is my hour for prayer.  Slaves, bid the people fill their cups.  Lady, I pray of you, stand forward on the dais.”

She obeyed, and at a sign the black slave-women gathered behind her with their flaming torches.  Then Sinan rose also, and cried with a loud voice: