He rose, therefore, when he had eaten enough and had rested himself and his mare, and after thanking the people of the village for their entertainment he rode on his way. He passed through a hill country, sometimes fertile and sometimes stony and deserted, but he found water by the way and such food as he needed; and accomplished the remainder of the journey without hindrance.
On the morning of the second day he came to a halting-place from which he could see the city of Riad, and he was astonished at the size and magnificence of the Sultan’s palace, which was visible above the walls of the fortification. Yet he was aware that he had seen all this before as in a dream not altogether forgotten when a man wakes at dawn after a long and restless night.
He gazed awhile, after he had made his ablutions, and then calling to his mare to come to him, he mounted and rode through the southern gate into the heart of the city.
II
When Khaled reached the palace he dismounted from his mare, and leading her by the bridle entered the gateway. Here he met many persons, guards, and slaves both black and white, and porters bearing provisions, and a few women, all hurrying hither and thither; and many noticed him, but a few gazed curiously into his face, and two or three grooms followed him a little way, pointing out to each other the beauties of his mare.
“Truly,” they said, “if we did not know the mares of the stud better than the faces of our mothers, we should swear by Allah that this beast had been stolen from the Sultan’s stables by a thief in the night, for she is of the best blood in Nejed.”
These being curious they saluted Khaled and asked him whence he came and whither he was going, seeing that it is not courteous to ask a stranger any other questions.
“I come from the Red Desert,” Khaled answered, “and I am going into the palace as you see.”
The grooms saw that there was a rebuke in the last part of his answer and hung back and presently went their way.
“Are such mares bred in the Red Desert?” they exclaimed. “The stranger is doubtless the sheikh of some powerful tribe. But if this be true, where are the men that came with him? And why is he dressed like a man of the city?”
So they hastened out of the gateway to find the Bedouins who, they supposed, must have accompanied Khaled on his journey.
But Khaled went forward and came to a great court in which were stone seats by the walls. Here a number of people were waiting. So he sat down upon one of the seats and his mare laid her nose upon his shoulder as though inquiring what he would do.
“Allah knows,” Khaled said, as though answering her. So he waited patiently.
At last a man came out into the courtyard who was richly dressed, and whom all the people saluted as he passed. But he came straight towards Khaled, who rose from his seat.
“Whence come you, my friend?” he inquired after they had exchanged the salutation.
“From the Red Desert, and I desire permission to speak with the Sultan when it shall please his majesty to see me.”
“And what do you desire of his majesty? I ask that I may inform him beforehand. So you will have a better reception.”
“Tell the Sultan,” said Khaled, “that a man is here who has neither father nor mother nor any possessions beyond a swift mare, a keen sword and a strong hand, but who is come nevertheless to ask in marriage Zehowah, the Sultan’s daughter.”
The minister smiled and gazed at Khaled in silence for a moment, but when he had looked keenly at his face, he became grave.
“It may be,” he thought, “that this is some great prince who comes thus simply as in a disguise, and it were best not to anger him.”
“I will deliver your message,” he answered aloud, “though it is a strange one. It is customary for those who come to ask for a maiden in marriage to bring gifts—and to receive others in return,” he added.
“I neither bring gifts nor ask any,” said Khaled. “Allah is great and will provide me with what I need.”
“I fear that he will not provide you with the Sultan’s daughter for a wife,” said the minister as he went away, but Khaled did not hear the words, though he would have cared little if he had.
Now it chanced that Zehowah was sitting in a balcony surrounded with lattice, over the courtyard, on that morning and she had seen Khaled enter, leading his mare by the bridle. But though she watched the stranger and his beast idly for some time she thought as little of the one as of the other, for her heart was not turned to love, and she knew nothing of horses. But her women thought differently and spoke loudly, praising the beauty of both.
“There is indeed a warrior able to fight in the front of our armies,” they said. “Truly such a man must have been Khaled ibn Walad, the Sword of the Lord, in the days of the Prophet—upon whom peace.”
By and by there was a cry that the Sultan was coming into the room, and the women rose and retired. The Sultan sat down upon the carpet by his daughter, in the balcony.
“Do you see that stranger, holding a beautiful mare by the bridle?” he asked.
“Yes, I see him,” answered Zehowah indifferently.
“He is come to ask you in marriage.”
“Another!” she exclaimed with a careless laugh. “If it is the will of Allah I will marry him. If not, he will go
