The House of the Falcon
Three or four scattered groups were stationed on knolls or the plains. Monsey waved his hand at them, and Abbas grinned.
"Now you understand, my lady. When we have killed off the armed men of those brigands we'll move against the valley. And there won't be so many to kill, at that. Besides some Arabs and a handful of Afghans those Sayaks are not much use in a fight. They do not number a hundred able-bodied men. Then we will take care of the mosque."
Abbas stretched powerful arms.
"Spoil," he grunted, "gold—ev'ryting, by Allah. Maili barlik!"
"I thought," Edith faced Monsey, "you came to Yakka Arik because my father sent you to rescue me."
Monsey scowled, then shrugged.
"Why keep up the appearances, mademoiselle? I must have something to pay my men."
"And yourself!"
"Yes," he said softly, "myself." He nodded at Abbas. "This merchant needs new goods'
"I thought slaves were a thing of the past"
"Not in Central Asia, to-day. Gold is power, and women are gold. So much for Abbas. I tell you, I am leader here. And I only came for you." He touched a strand of her hair. "Do you think I would tell you all this if I were not sure of my cards? I want you to understand how you are fixed—with only my word to keep you from these men. Think about it. You won't be so haughty, then." He paused as the Alaman touched his arm and thrust a stocky forefinger out at the plateau. "Now, who is that?"
From the rocks at the further end of the level space
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