Chapter 28

He was visibly annoyed by the servants’ stares when they came to serve luncheon to him and his mother. When the maids offered him dishes, at arm’s length, he growled, ‘One would think you were serving a ghost!’

‘Please don’t be impatient with them, son,’ begged Rennah. ‘It is no small matter that you are walking again.’

‘I would have recovered—in time,’ said Deran airily. ‘I was feeling better. I lacked confidence; that was all. The old Jew pulled me up—and I found I could walk. That’s about all there is to it.’

‘Even so—if I were you I shouldn’t resent it if the people are surprised to see you out again,’ admonished Rennah.

‘Why should I care what they think!’ muttered Deran.

After he had eaten, the Prince swaggered out to the paddocks, to be greeted by the silent, open-mouthed awe of the stable-boys.

‘This is amazing, sire!’ exclaimed old Kedar, limping forward.

‘Saddle my sorrel mare!’ commanded Deran.

Rennah had followed him out. She stood soberly watching as he bounded into the saddle and rode away at a gallop. Then she turned and slowly retraced her steps, with bent head and drooping shoulders.

Back in her own room, she sat motionless, leaning far forward with her knuckles pressed hard against her teeth. Deran had no intention of keeping his vow to the Jewish healer. It wasn’t in Deran to change his nature. It was too much to expect of him. He was a high-spirited, proud young Prince. It was his destiny to rule his people. Any sign of sympathy or friendship on his part would be mistaken for weakness. The Arabians needed a firm hand to govern them; not an outstretched hand, but a closed fist!

Yes; but the mysterious Jew was still to be reckoned with. In a few hours he would learn that Deran had repudiated his promise. Then what? If this miracle-worker had the power to put Deran on his feet he probably had the power to put him to bed again. He had solemnly declared that the Prince must keep his pledge, or a worse affliction might befall him. In God’s name, what could be worse?

Rennah’s mind was in tumult. Something must be done promptly or the potent Jew might put a curse on Deran! He must be got out of the country! Now!

She walked determinedly to her desk, drew out a sheet of papyrus, and wrote in large, sprawling letters:

‘Fara: Much as the Prince appreciates the kindness of your Jewish prophet, we are aware, as you doubtless are yourself, that there is bitter enmity between the Jews and the Arabians. Already there is muttering among our people that our Prince shall not be beholden to a Jew for his recovery. For the old prophet’s protection—for Deran does not want anything to happen to him—it is important that he leave the country forthwith! Let there be no delay! I am sending, with this note, a purse of gold. Give it to this man—and tell him to go! Perhaps it would be well if you accompanied him. You may not be safe here when it is learned that you brought the Jew to Arabia.’

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