Marching Sands
Khan. He laid a warning hand on her shoulder. Startled, the girl drew back and struck down his arm. Abashed by her flaming displeasure, the warrior glanced at Bassalor Danek.
The Gur-Khan frowned.
"Touch not the Kha Rakcha, dog!" he growled. "Soon the woman is to be allied to me by blood." Then to Mary: "It is not fitting, maiden, that even one such as you should come to this place is anger. Cover then the flame of spirit with the ashes of respect."
Timur interpreted his stately speech. But the girl was wrought up by fear for Gray. Not until be had failed to rejoin her did she realize how much his coming had meant.
It was not loneliness alone. She yearned to hear the soldier's quiet voice, to feel the reassurance of his eyes upon her. Womanlike, her anxiety had grown. Perhaps—so close had the two became in thought after their meeting of the morning—her intuition had whispered that Gray was in trouble.
So she was not minded to respect the dignity of the two aged men. Mary Hastings had been mistress of native servants. She knew how to extract obedience.
"Tell the chieftain," she cried, "to answer when I speak. Am I one to hide the fire of spirit under the cloak of humiliation? Speak! What has become of the white man?"
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