Instead a loud voice reverberated through the inn and brought every man to a pause. The soldiers dropped their swords to their sides. Those in front of me moved to the edge of the balcony and looked over. In the sudden silence that followed I heard the tread of horses' feet outside the tavern. There were horses inside as well. Their iron hoofs rang loudly upon the stone floor. I came to the edge of the stairs and looked anxiously down. The room below was thick with horses and red-coated men. The nobles had come at last. Without dismounting, they had ridden into the inn. Among them I saw the Duke of Marbosa with his long black beard and the members of the Secret Order of the Cross. And in their lead stood General Palmora.
"Stand back!" he was crying, and every man obeyed the commander-in-chief.
He saw Nicholas in the spot he had cleared for himself against the railing. The General was amazed.
"What are you doing, sir?" he called.
"These fools were trying to kill Dale," Nick replied.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
The General's face was shining with a look of happiness that lifted the weight of years from his shoulders. Something had happened. He turned to the soldiers and began an address in their language. I could not follow him, but what he said acted with magical effect. As he spoke, Solonika stole to my side and watched the proceedings. She translated his every word.
"Men of Bharbazonia," said the General, "the King is dead."
He removed his helmet in honour of the dead and every man stood at attention with bared head.