Perhaps this was a bitter pill for Lodivarman to swallow, for no man, not even a king, may easily forget humiliation—perhaps a king least of all—and he did not like to be reminded that Fou-tan had spurned him and that this man had taken her from him. But more powerful than his chagrin was his sincere gratitude to Gordon King, and so it is only fair to record that he did not hesitate an instant when he had heard the American's request.
"You shall have everything that you require—warriors, elephants, everything. You have heard?" he demanded, turning to an official standing near him.
The man nodded. "It is the King's command, then," continued Lodivarman, "that the prince be furnished at once with all he requires."
"A hundred elephants and five hundred men will answer my purpose," said King, "the swiftest elephants and the bravest warriors."
"You shall have them," said Lodivarman.
"I thank Your Majesty," said King. "And now permit me to depart, for if I am to be successful there is no time to lose."
"Go," said Lodivarman, "and may the gods accompany you."
Within the hour a hundred elephants and five hundred warriors swung through the north gate of Lodidhapura along the broad avenue beyond and into the jungle.
Far to the north, hastening through the forest to Pnom Dhek, moved Beng Kher's defeated army; and in the van was the Prince, Bharata Rahon, gloating in anticipation over the fruits of his villainy. Already was he demanding and receiving the rights and prerogatives of royalty, for he had spread the word that Beng Kher had been killed in battle and that he was hastening to Pnom Dhek to wed the Princess Fou-tan.
Early in the forenoon of the second day following the battle, Fou-tan, from her palace window, saw the column of returning elephants and warriors emerge from the forest. That the trumpets and the drums were mute told her that defeat had fallen upon the forces of the King, her father, and there were tears in her eyes as she turned away from the window and threw herself upon her couch.