A Veil is Drawn
At this a short sigh escaped Donovan, the only sign that he had had his gravest fear confirmed.
"Is this the will of Mahmoud?"
"Aye." The hakim answered for himself. "Iskander would have let the woman go safely from the mosque, under a pledge of silence. But I have read the hearts of many women, I know that their tongues cannot be silenced."
"Yet I am free to go."
"That is the truth. But you we need. Likewise, it is written that a strong man is faithful to his word. We have no fear that you will voice the secrets of others."
Edith glanced from one to the other, trying to read their faces. All four were speaking quietly, as if discussing some small matter of common interest. Donovan knew that only in persuading the Sayaks to change their minds was there hope for Edith.
It was the Sayak chief who spoke harshly.
"The task of the woman is finished now that she has healed Dono-van Khan. Nay, it was Mahmoud, the all-wise, who lifted the shadow of sickness from your body. The woman did her share, as we intended. Now, she is useless and we will slay her, because she entered where it is forbidden."
"Aye," agreed Iskander moodily. "She is young, and her hair is like the light of the sun as was that of my cloud. We will not set her upon the caravan. Besides, she is a white woman, and it is best her body should not be seen—without."
Edith touched Donovan timidly on the arm.
"What are they saying, Donovan Khan? I want to know. They seem to be—angry."
By way of answer he patted her hand gently. His
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