“It is a stout place, easily defended, and can stand a long siege,” he went on. “Before Al-Mutasim and I left the western marches he had it put in readiness—originally for me and thee, Aziza Nurmahal, when I, being a foolish man and almost childlike in my impulsiveness …”
“Childlike? Thou? Childlike!” screamed Ayesha Zemzem. “By Zubalzan, son of Satan! I …”
“Childlike indeed, O Pig's Brain!” came the governor's ready repartee. “Childlike in thinking that I might be able to throw a noose around the far stars of desire and sweetness and beauty—that thou, Aziza, wouldst give me thy love and flood me with it, as the blessed rain floods the thirsty earth, and …”
“What about the Arab?” asked Hector, fretting. “Come on. What about him? And what about the Tartar castle?!”—he loosened the blade in its scabbard—“by God, I think that thou art delaying us on purpose with all this talk about …”
“Patience, son of a most impatient mother,” said Abderrahman Yahiah Khan, gently, “and remember that this same patience is the key of relief—is-subr miftah il-faraj, yah saheb! As to the castle, Musa Al-Mutasim is doubtless on his way there.”
“Where is it?” asked the princess.
“Ah—a sensible question—where is it? I know where it is, and I shall go there, myself, at the head of a squadron of troopers, and presently we will storm the castle—though it will take weeks—and, with my own hand, in sign of my loyalty, shall I cut that Arab dog's throat from his fat left ear to his fat right ear.”
