conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Jared, Isabeau, Malik with the genre: Romance, Historical?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Heart of a Lion'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Heart of a Lion
  The sun's white disc still burned brightly in the sky as it settled toward the western horizon. A solitary figure knelt on a promontory of yellow sandstone that jutted out over the valley, his hands lifted reverently toward the heavens. The heavy silence that had cloaked the landscape was pierced by his trumpetlike voice. At the disturbance, a flock of ibis rose like a cloud from the valley floor, melded into a single image above the river, spiraled upward on invisible thermals, then disappeared into the dusky air.
  The voice of Zorah, the seer, flowed over the valley below, rising and falling in its musical cadence and echoing off the canyon walls before falling silent. The wise one held his arms aloft, as still as a candle in a crypt, as immovable as the hills at his back. He stayed in this position while the sun's white brilliance faded to a bloodred glow, sinking lower and lower until a mere crescent of crimson fire balanced on the lacy branches of distant trees.
  When ebony darkness had swallowed the earth, Zorah lifted his voice again... this time in a hoarse whisper of desperation. "O Ancient One, I cannot hear your voice! Be not silent to me, I beg! Speak in my heart as you have in times of old!"
  The seer's plea died on the silent air. His thin frame began to sway like a sapling in a strong wind. With eyes squeezed shut, his mouth gaped open, gulping in the life-giving air like a fish gasping for breath on dry land.
  Then he heard it. His ears perked up in the darkness, his heart listening in rapt recognition to a voice... a still, small voice that had first addressed him when he was but a stripling.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The other two men charged toward Ham and were on him before he could draw another arrow. Both of them carried long, wicked-looking knives that glinted in the sun. Ham tried to turn away, but a sweeping blow caught him across the upper arm. He felt the flesh tear, and pain shot through him. Ham managed to grab the wrist of his attacker and threw him backward so that he collided with the other robber. Ham drew his knife, but the two separated, coming at him from both sides. Ham knew that if he turned his back on either one, he would be slain instantly. He threw himself at the smaller of the two men and parried his thrusts with his right arm, then threw a wicked left-handed blow at the other man, catching him full in the face with his fist. He heard the bones crunch as the nose broke, and the man stumbled backward.
  The smaller robber reacted quick as a weasel, lunging at him with his knife. Ham felt the searing heat of the blade slash his side, and he had time only to turn. He parried another thrust and lunged at the man with his own knife, but his opponent was swift. His face was filled with fury as he circled Ham and screamed, "You're a dead man! You killed my brother!"
  Ham felt weakened by the blood that was dripping from his side and arm, and he knew he would grow weaker. Throwing caution aside, he flung himself forward, inviting another thrust. His opponent's blade slashed at him, and he felt it make a narrow cut across his left forearm. But then he drove forward with his own blade and saw it slice across the man's thin face. He drew it back again, and his next cut slashed across the chest, leaving a bloody track.
  The man staggered back with a wild cry and fled, holding his face, and Ham turned to see the other man he had smashed in the nose get up and follow him, his face streaming blood. Ham felt a wave of dizziness and he stood there swaying. The two men with the arrow wounds lay still, and the two fleeing robbers had disappeared around a bend. He looked up and saw the young woman coming toward him. She was holding her torn garment together at her throat, and her eyes were wide with terror. Her voice trembled as she asked, "Can you walk?"
  Ham abruptly sat down and heard the ripping of cloth. He glanced over to see that she was tearing her dress from around the hem, and soon he felt her hands as she bound his arm and then his side.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last four paragraphs. Start with the sentence 'The two men watched as Sarai walked through the camp with Noestru'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The two men watched as Sarai walked through the camp with Noestru. They finally returned, and Noestru said, "I must take leave of you." He smiled with an oily expression, saying to Sarai, "You are as beautiful as the moon, O woman of the desert."
  Sarai did not answer but bowed, and the three watched as Noestru went back and mounted his camel. His men followed him, and as they turned, raising a cloud of dust, Sarai demanded sharply, "Why did you tell him I was your sister?" She listened as Abram explained and then frowned. "I wish you hadn't said that."
  Sarai looked at Abram with something like scorn. "Isn't the Strong One able to deal with these people? Are they stronger than He?"
  Abram knew there was no answer for that. Heavily, he said, "I think we will have to leave Egypt as soon as the cattle are rested. This place is too dangerous for us." He saw that Sarai was disturbed and followed her as she walked away. She said nothing, and he put his arm around her. "I've always said that there was no woman so fair as you, Sarai. I've never regretted it, but now your beauty has put us at risk."