"I'll give my life to ensure his safety" "Is it enough?" "Don't worry, m'lady. An Arabian's scimitar is worth ten of those western rifles" Then she saw them. Three warriors of her blood and flesh. Three corpses piled up atop each other and next to them was one infidel's corpse with his shiny rifle. "Lies" she roared with a red face, and spat at the bodies and kicked them. They had forsaken her and left her village to be burned and plundered by the Western army with their fancy rifles and loud cannons. She couldn't completely vent out her frustration at the dead bodies before they came and seized her, pulled her by her veil, cussed at her and yelled in their foreign language, then threw her in a dark dungeon illuminated only by the moon