The man who’d made the gesture for the others seemed to be the leader of the group. He was a big man with broad shoulders and piercing eyes, and he sat straight in his saddle as he looked the travelers over appraisingly. “Who dares transgress on the land of Nusair ibn Samman, shaykh of the Kholaj Badawi?” he said in a booming voice.
Prince Ahmad met his stare without flinching. “The Kholaj Desert belongs to no man,” he said evenly, “and I do not treat with any man too cowardly to show me his face.”
Most of the riders tensed at these inflammatory words, but the leader took the implied threat in stride. After a pause he reached up and unfastened the cloth to reveal his face. It was very much a face of the desert: dark-complected and leather tough, with thick lips and a nose like an eagle’s
