charging into Jerusalem.'
'Mayhap you speak wisely, James,' said Richard, 'and then, too, we be content here, knowing no other country.'
For a while both men were silent, in thought. Blake was the first to speak. 'This big tourney interests me,' he said. 'You say it starts the first Sunday in Lent. That's not far away.'
'No, not far. Why?'
'I was wondering if you thought I'd be in shape to have a part in it. I'm getting better and better with the lance every day.'
Sir Richard looked sadly at him and shook his head. 'Tomorrow thou wilt be dead,' he said.
'Say! You're a cheerful party,' exclaimed Blake.
'I am only truthful, good friend,' replied Richard. 'It grieveth my heart sorely that it should be true, but true it be—thou canst not prevail over Sir Malud on the morrow. Wouldst that I might take thy place in the lists against him, but that may not be. But I console myself with the thought that thou will comport thyself courageously and die as a good sir knight should, with no stain upon thy escutcheon. Greatly will it solace the Princess Guinalda to know that thou didst die thus.'
'You think so?' ventured Blake.
'Verily.'
'And if I don't die—will she be put out?'
'Put out! Put out of what?' demanded Richard.
'Will she be sore vexed, then,' corrected Blake.
'I should not go so far as to say that,' admitted Richard, 'but natheless it appears certain that no lady would rejoice to see her promised husband overthrown and killed, and if thou art not slain it may only be because thou hast slain Malud.'
'She is his affianced wife?' demanded Blake.
''Tis understood, that be all. As yet no formal marriage banns have been proclaimed.'
'I'm going to turn in,' snapped Blake. 'If I've got to be killed tomorrow I ought to get a little sleep tonight.'
As he stretched himself upon a rough wool blanket that was spread over a bed of rushes upon the stone floor in one corner of the room and drew another similar blanket over him, he felt less like sleep than he had ever felt before. The knowledge that on the morrow he was to meet a medieval knight in mortal combat naturally gave him considerable concern, but Blake was too self-reliant and too young to seriously harbor the belief that he would be the one to be killed. He knew it was possible but he did not intend to permit the thought to upset him. There was, however, another that did. It upset him very much and, too, it made him angry when he realized that he was concerned about it—about the proposed marriage of Sir Malud of West Castle and Guinalda, Princess of Nimmr.
Could it be that he had been ass enough, he soliloquized, to have fallen in love with this little medieval princess who probably looked upon him as dirt beneath her feet? And what was he going to do about Malud? Suppose he should get the better of the fellow on the morrow? Well, what about it? If he killed him that would make Guinalda unhappy. If he didn't kill him—what? Sir James did not know.
Chapter Thirteen
In the Beyt of Zeyd
IBN JAD waited three days in his menzil but no Galla guides arrived to lead him into the valley as Batando had promised, and so he sent Fejjuan once more to the chief to urge him to hasten, for always in the mind of Ibn Jad was the fear of Tarzan of the Apes and the thought that he might return to thwart and punish him.
He knew he was out of Tarzan's country now, but he also knew that where boundaries were so vague he could not definitely count upon this fact as an assurance of safety from reprisal. His one hope was that Tarzan was awaiting his return through Tarzan's country, and this Ibn Jad had definitely decided not to attempt. Instead he was planning upon moving directly west, passing north of the ape-man's stamping grounds, until he picked up the trail to the north down which he had travelled from the desert country.
In the mukaad of the sheik with Ibn Jad sat Tollog, his brother, and Fahd and Stimbol, besides some other Aarab. They were speaking of Batando's delay in sending guides and they were fearful of treachery, for it had long been apparent to them that the old chief was gathering a great army of warriors, and though Fejjuan assured them that they would not be used against the Aarab if Ibn Jad resorted to no treachery, yet they were all apprehensive of danger.
Ateja, employed with the duties of the hareem, did not sing nor smile as had been her wont, for her heart was heavy with mourning for her lover. She heard the talk in the mukaad but it did not interest her. Seldom did her eyes glance above the curtain that separated the women's quarters from the mukaad, and when they did the fires of hatred blazed within them as they crossed the countenance of Fahd.
She chanced to be thus glancing when she saw Fahd's eyes, which were directed outward across the menzil, go suddenly wide with astonishment.
'Billah, Ibn Jad!' cried the man. 'Look!'
With the others Ateja glanced in the direction Fahd was staring and with the others she voiced a little gasp of astonishment, though those of the men were rounded into oaths.
Walking straight across the menzil toward the sheik's beyt strode a bronzed giant armed with a spear, arrows and a knife. Upon his back was suspended an oval shield and across one shoulder and his breast was coiled a rope, hand plaited from long fibers.
'Tarzan of the Apes!' ejaculated Ibn Jad. 'The curse of Ullah be upon him!'
'He must have brought his black warriors with him and left them hidden in the forest,' whispered Tollog. 'Not else would he dare enter the menzil of the Beduw.'
Ibn Jad was heart sick and he was thinking fast when the ape-man halted directly in the outer opening of the mukaad. Tarzan let his eyes run quickly over the assemblage. They stopped upon Stimbol, finally. 'Where is Blake?' he demanded of the American.
'You ought to know,' growled Stimbol.
'Have you seen him since you and he separated?'
'No.'
'You are sure of that?' insisted the ape-man.
'Of course I am.'
Tarzan turned to Ibn Jad. 'You have lied to me. You are not here to trade but to find and sack a city; to take its treasure and steal its women.'
'That is a lie!' cried Ibn Jad. 'Whoever told thee that, lied.'
'I do not think he lied,' replied Tarzan. 'He seemed an honest youth.'
'Who was he?' demanded Ibn Jad.
'His name is Zeyd.' Ateja heard and was suddenly galvanized to new interest. 'He says all this and more, and I believe him.'
'What else did he tell thee, Nasrany?'
'That another stole his musket and sought to slay thee, Ibn Jad, and then put the blame upon him.
'That is a lie, like all he hath told thee!' cried Fahd.
Ibn Jad sat in thought, his brows contracted in a dark scowl, but presently he looked up at Tarzan with a crooked smile. 'Doubtless the poor youth thought that he spoke the truth,' he said. 'Just as he thought that he should slay his sheik and for the same reason. Always hath his brain been sick, but never before did I think him dangerous.
'He hath deceived thee, Tarzan of the Apes, and that I can prove by all my people as well as by this Nasrany I have befriended, for all will tell thee that I am seeking to obey thee and leave thy country. Why else then should I have travelled north back in the direction of my own beled?'
'If thou wished to obey me why didst thou hold me prisoner and send thy brother to slay me in the night?'
