Now Salah-ed-din turned pale, for he who feared nothing else was all his life afraid of the Assassins and their lord, who thrice had striven to murder him.
“Strip the armour from those men,” went on Godwin, “and I think that you will find truth in my words, or, if not, question such of them as still live.”
They obeyed, and there upon the breast of one of them, burnt into his skin, was the symbol of the blood-red dagger. Now Saladin saw, and beckoned the brethren aside.
“How knew you of this?” he asked, searching them with his piercing eyes.
“Masouda, the lady Rosamund’s waiting woman, warned us that you, lord, and we, were to be murdered tonight by eight men, so we made ready.”
“Why, then, did you not tell me?”
“Because,” answered Wulf, “we were not sure that the news was true, and did not wish to bring false tidings and be made foolish. Because, also, my brother and I thought that we could hold our own awhile against eight of Sinan’s rats disguised as soldiers of Saladin.”
“You have done it well, though yours was a mad counsel,” answered the Sultan. Then he gave his hand first to one and next to the other, and said, simply:
“Sir Knights, Salah-ed-din owes his life to you. Should it ever come about that you owe your lives to Salah-ed-din, he will remember this.”
Thus this business ended. On the morrow those of the fedaï who remained alive were questioned, and confessing freely that they had been sent to murder Salah-ed-din who had robbed their master of his bride, the two Franks who had carried her off, and the woman Masouda who had guided them, they were put to death cruelly enough. Also many others in the city were seized and killed on suspicion, so that for awhile there was no more fear from the Assassins.