“What do you seek, captains?” he asked courteously.
“A gold armlet that one of us has lost,” they answered.
Aziel let his eyes wander on the ground, and not far away perceived the armlet half-hidden in a tussock of dry grass, where, indeed, it had been placed.
“Is this the ring?” he asked, lifting it and holding it towards them.
“It is, and we thank you,” they answered, advancing to take the ornament.
The next moment, before Aziel even guessed their purpose, the captains had gripped him by either arm and were dragging him at full speed towards their camp. Understanding their treachery and the greatness of his danger, he cried aloud for help. Then throwing himself swiftly to the ground, he set his feet against a stone that chanced to lie in their path in such fashion that the sudden weight tore his right arm from the grip of the man that held him. Now, quick as thought, Aziel drew the dagger from his girdle, and, still lying upon his back, plunged it into the shoulder of the second man so that he loosed him in his pain. Next he sprang to his feet, and, leaping to one side to escape the rush of his captors, ran like a deer towards the party of Sakon, who had wheeled round at the sound of his cry.
Ithobal and his men had turned also and sped towards them, but at a little distance they halted, the king shouting aloud:—
“I desired to hold this foreigner, who is the cause of war between us, hostage for your daughter’s sake, Sakon, but this time he has escaped me. Well, it matters nothing, for soon my turn will come. Therefore, if you and he are wise, you will send him back to the sea, for thither alone I promise him safe conduct.”
Then without more words he walked to his camp, the gates of which were closed behind him.