The Sultan roused up. Raymond was still holding Rustan’s dagger arm and with his wounded arm holding his own dagger at his heart, while Conrad was standing in a threatening attitude by the side of the Sultan and looking at the assassin with blazing eyes.
“Keep these daggers as souvenirs from me,” said the awakened Sultan. “I shall not forget this hour. I have heard and seen all. You are brave and honest boys, and have well stood the test I arranged. From now on you will be released from prison; but I cannot give you your liberty, because I must avail myself of every agency to make a lasting peace with your Emperor. But I will treat you as my sons.”
The Sultan then left the apartment, which was next to his own, so that it might be put in order for them, and that they should be near him. Rustan, who had played his role so masterfully, was again the Sultan’s old faithful servant, and as such was doubly dear to the boys.
Life was now far different. Many would have highly enjoyed it, and felt happy amid such good living, handsome surroundings, and abundance of everything, and have soon forgotten their old conditions. But it was not so with the brothers. They could hardly forget the Emperor for a moment, and they nearly always spoke of him when they were alone. Their desire for liberty was still strong, and though they scorned to secure it by such a horrible deed as murder, yet they would have followed Rustan’s lead if he could have freed them in any way but that. They were convinced that their steadfastness in the right course would result in greater advantage to them, as well as to the Christian army, than an act of murder when they were still too young and inexperienced to unravel the web of the cunning Turk and see through his plans. They had earned his respect—the respect of an enemy second to none in the world. Since he respected them, he certainly would respect the knights and, above all, the Emperor, for he was the ideal of all knightly virtues. What might have been their fate if, urged on by the unchristian thirst for revenge, and forgetful of their duty, they had attempted to use the murderous steel? Both Rustan and the Sultan would have confronted them, and against two such foes two weak boys would have been powerless. Even if they had overcome them and secured their liberty, the deed would not have been approved in the camp, and they would have been held in contempt all their lives. Though their noble course was unknown to the Emperor and Christendom, though it dissipated their hope of rescue, and they might have to pass their young lives in a lonesome castle, there was One who had seen their act and had tested their hearts. God would not let it pass unrequited.
Chapter XII
The Emperor to the Rescue
We left the Emperor fighting furiously in the streets of Iconium. Where the danger was greatest he fought with the bravery always characteristic of him. None could withstand him. They either fell before his vigorous attacks, or fled as fast and far as their feet could take them. The Christians were equally bold even when the Turks assailed them with the fierceness of lions. Their bitter resentment over broken faith, their remembrance of the sufferings they had undergone, the thought of so many fallen comrades, and their unwavering belief that the destruction of the enemies of Christianity was pleasing to God, inflamed them to a pitch of fury that extinguished every spark of humanity. They did not desist until every turban-wearer was killed or, like the Sultan, fortunate enough to make his escape. The Emperor was one of the last to sheathe his reddened sword. Many fell utterly exhausted, for in the excitement of the battle they had not noticed their waning strength. The foot-soldiers, who had driven stakes into the ground to protect themselves from the enemy’s cavalry charges, were hardly able to move. In addition to an immense amount of spoils and the wealth of the city, they secured an abundance of subsistence. All who were able procured enough for themselves and for the needs of their exhausted comrades.
After the Emperor’s work was complete, and in the midst of his exultation over his victory and the fruits of his conquest of the city, he first learned what he had lost in the meantime. He could hardly trust his ears when he was informed of the capture of his wards. After repeated assurances that the news was true, and that their faithful caretaker had been found dead, the Emperor’s cheeks paled and his flashing eyes dimmed, for he realized at once the impending fate of the unfortunate lads.
“You could not have struck me a harder blow than this, cruel Sultan,” he said, grimly. “You were cunning enough to know how dear those boys are to me. A fine proof of your courage this is, you coward, who shun open battle face to face, who can only succeed with overwhelming numbers, who lie in wait and strike your foeman in the back!”
The glory of his victory was dimmed for him. The spoils he had won lost all their value in his eyes. This was no more than he had often done. But how should he redeem his knightly word, which never yet had been broken? He had allowed himself to be deceived by a subtle enemy, to whom he had exposed the boys, fancying them secure even when not under his watchful eye, and the result might be fatal to those who had trusted to his protection.
His associates vainly tried to convince him he had not been guilty of any neglect of duty. Empty words could not comfort him. “It has all happened because of my negligence,” he replied. His first move was to order immediate pursuit of the enemy, in the hope of rescuing the boys.