the East and that of the West! Thy blade and mine, Al Nakia! The blades of the prophecy—which saved me—which saved Tamerlanistan
And then, realizing that here for the first time since he had come to Tamerlanistan he was alone with the princess without hidden eyes and ears watching and listening from behind the rustling zenana curtains, that here for the first time he had a chance to ask her straight out for a solution of the mystery. Hector demanded, rather bluntly:
“Tell me, Aziza. What is all this mad talk of blades and the wooing of blades? What is this ancient prophecy to which all the world seems to have the key except myself?”
She looked up, utterly astonished.
“Thou dost not know?”
“I have guessed, a little. But—well—I don't know.”
“Then why didst thou come here? Why didst thou sacrifice thy life, thy strength, thy energy, for this land, for me? If thou wert in love with me—which thou art not …”
“Which indeed I am not,” smiled Hector, “though I am thy friend.”
“And I thine. The best friend in the world—friend closer than a brother …”
“Rather!” said Hector to himself, thinking, bitterly, of his brother Tollemache, for whose sake he had taken on his shoulders the burden of dishonor; while the princess continued:
“Yes. We are friends. But—even so—why didst thou come here in the first place? What, if thou
