But Abd-el-Kader was through, his eyes popping agony, his body writhing on the ground. The whole thing, from the time the Arab had advanced on the disarmed man for the kill, hadn’t taken five seconds.
His groans were the only sounds which broke the unbelieving silence of the Chaambra tribesmen. Homer Crawford picked up the fallen leader’s sword and then strolled over and retrieved that of El Aicha. Ignoring Abd-el-Kader, he crossed to where the tribal elders had assembled to watch the fight and held out the borrowed sword to its owner.
El Aicha sheathed it while looking into Homer Crawford’s face. “It has still never been drawn to commit dishonor.”
“My thanks,” Crawford said.
Over the noise of the crowd which now was beginning to murmur its incredulity at their champion’s fantastic def
