Page:Weird Tales Volume 6 Number 3 (1925-09).djvu/39

guarded by one whose head shall answer for your continuous presence. Follow me."

Sunrise awakened the fierce old sultan to thoughts of the day's wrath.

"Release him," he directed the sentry who had guarded Amru. And then to the scribe, "The few minutes between now and the appearance of the prisoners in the hall of audience can avail you naught. And thus have I saved you from chosing between fidelity to me, or to your friend, el Idrisi. To your duties, Amru!"

The sultan smiled ironically. But he did not observe the curious light in Amru's eye as the scribe bowed himself from the presence; nor did he observe that Amru fingered a golden coin.

It was but a few minutes after the morning prayer that Amru took his post at the right of the sultan's dais in the hall of audience. Disposing about him his inks, reeds, and scrolls, he awaited the appearance of the court, and the pronouncing of doom upon Mamoun and the lovely Kashmiri bayadere. And as he waited, Amru peered anxiously about him, and with nervous impatience.

A moment later Iftikar the executioner, a huge negro, nude save for a scarlet loin-cloth, made his appearance in the hall of audience. Instead of his ponderous, crescent-bladed simitar with which he usually executed the sultan's judgments, the African bore a tray upon which reposed two small flagons, and two large goblets of ancient, curiously wrought Cairene glass.

"And with you, exceeding peace, returned Amru in response to the negro's salutation. "But where is your simitar? Is this to be a drinking bout instead of a passing of judgment?"

"Who am I to question the master?" countered the executioner. "Though I doubt that he will make me his cupbearer, for he claims that in the entire world there is no one who can make head and shoulders part company as neatly as I can," concluded the African with a justifiable touch of pride.

The negro turned to pick up the tray he had set on the steps of the dais.

"Just a moment, Iftikar," began the scribe; "since you have traveled so much, perhaps you can tell me what manner of coin this is."

The executioner took the proffered gold piece and examined it closely.

"It is a Feringhi coin, such as I once saw in the souk in Cairo," he announced. "And the image on it is that of an infidel sultan, upon whom be the wrath of Allah! But where did you get it?"

Before Amru could explain, a great gong sounded to announce the approach of the sultan and his court. The African tossed the gold piece to Amru, seized the tray, and took his post at the left of the judgment seat.

Eight cadaverous Annamite fanbearers filed into the hall of audience and disposed themselves about the dais. Following them came a detachment of the guard, resplendent captains of horse, and pompously strutting officers of the sultan's household, officials, and distinguished visitors. Then came Ismail, the chief wazir, stalking majestically to his position on the topmost step, and to the left of the dais; and last of all, the sultan himself, lean, hook-nosed vulture, who, after taking his seat, signaled to Amru to read, as was the custom of the court, a verse from Al Qurán.

"By the noonday brightness, and by the night when it darkeneth," intoned the scribe, "thy lord hath not forsaken thee, nor hath he been displeased. . ."

"Sufficient! Bring in the prisoners!" commanded the sultan. And