In his hands was a leathern thong.
Achmet saw, felt the presence of the slaves behind him, and shrank back numbed and appalled.

A mist came before his eyes; the voice he heard summoning him to stand up seemed to come from infinite distances.

The hand of doom had fallen like a thunderbolt.

The leathern thong in the hands of the slave was the token of instant death.

There was no chance of escape.