I know that. It doesnt answer my question. Theres a field full of men who died for Aboud outside. They didnt hold the pass.

We wont be taken by surprise.

Nassef was only half right. The Wahlig of el Aswad responded quicker than he expected.

The pickets had scarcely gone out when one on a lathered horse returned to say that several hundred horsemen were right behind him.

They swooped down from the northwest. Nassef had expected to be attacked from el Aswad, so had distributed his pickets and skirmishers to the southwest. But Yousif had heard about Sebil el Selib while coming home from Al Rhemish. He had decided to strike back immediately, using his escort.

The swift strike, the sneak attack, the hit and run, were traditional desert warfare, founded on centuries of tribal feuding.

Yousif arrived long before the pickets could be recalled, thereby denying Nassef a quarter of his strength.

Fighting raged through the pass and down into the meadow. Yousifs warriors were skilled and disciplined household troops who spent their lives in training and maneuver. The Wahlig was a master of light cavalry technique. He pushed Nassefs larger force into the fortress and cloisters.

El Murid and his Invincibles became isolated in the shrine, defending the Malachite Throne. As soon as he learned the Disciples whereabouts, Yousif concentrated on the shrine. He wanted the serpents head.

Facing the Wahlig across twenty feet of bloody floor, El Murid shouted, We will die before we yield one inch, Hell serf. Though your master send up all the devils of his fiery abode...Yea, though he hurl against us all the legions of the damned, we will not be dismayed. The Lord is with us. Ours is the confidence of the righteous, the assurance of the saved.

A big, muscular man said to the Wahlig, Ill be damned. Yousif, he really believes that drivel.

Of course he does, Fuad. Belief in himself is what makes a maniac dangerous.

El Murid was puzzled. Could they doubt his sincerity? The Truth was the Truth. They could accept or refuse it, but never brand it a lie.

Slay them, he told the Invincibles, though they were grossly outnumbered.

The Lord would deliver them.

His fanatics attacked like hunger-maddened wolves. Yousifs warriors went down like wheat before the scythe. The Wahlig himself went to his knees with a grievous wound. His troops wavered.

Fuad rallied them with his war cries. His scimitar flickered like a mirage, so swiftly did it cut and stab.

The Invincibles did as El Murid said. They held each inch they had taken.

They did not yield, but they died.

Gingerly, still believing that the Lord would deliver him, El Murid descended from the Malachite Throne. He collected a fallen blade.

Now the Invincibles were falling like scythed wheat. El Murid began to doubt...He would not! Were he to be martyred here, it would be the will of the Lord.