The Hawk of Egypt by Joan Conquest


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Page 88


A great light shone in his eyes as he rose from the couch of wood upon
which his dead body, with feet turned towards Mecca, was to lie.

The light from the lamp of bronze and cut-glass shade of deepest orange
tint struck down upon him, throwing shadows from the snow-white turban
which outlined the fine face to beneath the eyes, and round about the
hawk-nose, and the mouth of which the gentleness was so belied by the
dominant jaw; it gave an ivory shade to the snow-white satin of his
raiment; it glistened on his only jewel, an amulet carved from an emerald
in the shape of a scarab, set in gold and hung from a fine gold chain
about his neck.

His beauty was of the East, but it was male; there was no trace of that
effeminacy which so jars upon the sensibilities of those who are bred in
colder climes and brought up on sterner lines than the luxurious dweller
of the East.

He stood listening to the far-distant sound, then threw out his arms.

"By the mercy of Allah, God of Gods, I am found worthy to serve thee, O
my beloved! Within the hour, yea! in but a little over the passing of
half one hour, before the shadow of my tent shall reach yon rope, I shall
have looked upon thee."

He knew!

His heart told him who was coming to him out of the night; his knowledge
of the desert enabled him, by the drumming sound of the hoofs upon the
sand--a sound which has not its semblance in the world--to know to a
second when the mare would stop before the tent.

It was not the Hour of Nazam, the Hour of Prayer before dawn, the dawn
which was to see his questions answered, but he turned and, pulling back
the velvet-soft leather curtain, entered the small room lighted by a
silver lamp hanging just above the crystal basin full to the brim with
water.

No! it was not the Hour of Nazam, but filled with the Oriental's
mysterious premonition of that which is to befall, he performed the
prescribed ablutions of the Hour of Prayer. Three times he washed his
nostrils, his mouth and hands and arms to the elbow; the right first, as
ordained, then the head and neck, and ears once and feet once.

He stood erect, with his hands above his head, for five full minutes,
whilst the drumming of the sands sounded nearer and nearer, then emptied
the water in a circle upon the desert sands, refilled the crystal basin
with water from a crystal pitcher and passed into the tent and out upon
the sands across which, and even as a speck upon the horizon, he saw the
mare Pi-Kay racing. And he threw his hands heavenwards with a great cry:

"Allah be praised! Oh, Allah, unto thee I give thanks!"--the prayer of
thanksgiving uttered by his own father so many years ago.

It was a sight to watch, that of the snow-white mare Pi-Kay stretched
out, flying like the wind, ridden by a slip of a girl with her gleaming
cloak streaming like a banner behind her; but the look upon the man's
face was still more wonderful to behold as he stood motionless, sharply
outlined against the orange light behind him.

The mare slackened not her pace one whit; like a thunderbolt she hurled
herself right up to where stood the master she loved with all her great
equine heart; then she stopped short, fine fore-legs spread wide; then
reared until it seemed she must fall backwards; then crashed down to rear
again, until the loved voice bade her stand.

With the strange frozen look in her eyes which gave them the appearance
of ice-bound lakes, and which had been there since she had crept from the
hotel, Damaris slipped from the saddle into the arms of Hugh Carden Ali,
and there she rested, trembling from head to foot with the stress of her
ride, whilst the white mare whinnied for some recognition from her
master. And he pulled her forelock from about her gentle eyes and pulled
her small ears, and stroked the arched neck; then with a sharp word
ordered her to her stables, and, turning to lead the girl into the tent
in which no foot but his had trod, gave no more thought to the mare
Pi-Kay.

She obeyed him, with mighty little zest, yet lingering not one moment,
even though her delicate nostrils showed wide their crimson depths, and
her satin flanks heaved like bellows through the speed in which she had
covered so many miles.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 18th Jan 2026, 11:24