for a Frank,' said Usamah ^/ ibn Munqidh, with an approving nod at the young _JL shahin perched upon Sabin's gauntleted wrist. The Saracen lord was of a similar age to Sabin and, like Sabin, was raven haired, with eyes of changeable lion-hazel and a thin, quick smile. The likeness had been remarked upon more than once, much to the amusement of the two men who jestingly called each other 'brother' and had taken to sharing each other's company. Usamah was the nephew of the Emir of Shaizar, who had travelled to Turbessel to broker a ransom arrangement between Timurtash, inheritor of Balak's lands, and Queen Morphia for the release of her husband and his relatives.'It is in my blood,' Sabin replied in Arabic. 'My grandfather was chief falconer to a king.' He took no offence at Usamah's patronising tone. The Saracen's charm and good humour offset his superior air. Besides, he deserved to be cocksure. Shaizar was an impregnable fortress, and the Munqidh lords of his family were respected, formidable warriors as well as being accomplished diplomats and men of high education.
