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Updated: May 23, 2025
He showed her a thin-bladed dagger with an ivory handle; his own hand shook as he held it out to her, and she saw that there were beads of perspiration on his wrist. "She would have killed thee!" "Oh, nonsense! Why, she wouldn't dare!" "She confessed before she she confessed! Have I the heavenborn's leave?" "If you wish it." "And to keep the key?" "I suppose so, if you think it wise."
The Risaldar bowed low again. "I would speak with that ayah, heavenborn!" he muttered, almost into his beard. She could hardly catch the words. "I can't get her to speak to me at all tonight, Mahommed Khan. She's terrified almost out of her life at something. But perhaps you can do better. Try. Do you want to question her alone?" "By the heavenborn's favor, yes."
She looked up with a start, to find him standing close beside her. "Mahommed Khan! You're panting! What ails you?" "The heat, heavenborn and I am old." His left hand was on his saber-hilt, thrusting it toward her respectfully; she noticed that it trembled. "Have I the heavenborn's leave to lock the ayah in that inner room?" "Why, Risaldar?" "The fiend had this in her possession!"
A black beard and a turban and the figure of a man and then white teeth and a saber-hilt and eyes that gleamed moved forward from the darkness. "It is I, Mahommed Khan!" boomed the voice again, and the Risaldar stepped out into the lamplight and closed the door behind him. Then, with a courtly, long-discarded sweep of his right arm, he saluted. "At the heavenborn's service!" "Mahommed Khan!
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