“Peace, peace!” broke in Sakon.  “This is no time for gibes.  King Ithobal, since you did not dare to venture yourself again within the walls of our city, we have come to answer the demands you made upon us in the Hall of Audience.  You demanded that our fortifications should be thrown down, and this we refuse, since we do not court destruction.  You demanded that we should cease to enslave men to labour in the mines, and to this we answer that for every man we take we will pay a tax to his lawful chief, or to you as king.  You demanded that the ancient tribute should be doubled.  To this, out of love and friendship, and not from fear, we assent, if you will enter into a bond of lasting peace, since it is peace we seek, and not war.  King, you have our answer.”

“Not all of it, Sakon.  How of that first condition—­that Lady Elissa the fair, your daughter, should be given me to wife?”

“King, it cannot be, for the gods of heaven have taken this matter from our hands, anointing the lady Elissa their high-priestess.”

“Then as I live,” answered Ithobal with fury, “I will take her from the hands of the gods and anoint her my dancing-woman.  Do you think to make a mock of me, you people of Zimboe, whom I have honoured by desiring one of your daughters in marriage?  You seek to trick me with your priests’ juggling that you may keep her to be the toy of yonder princeling?  So be it, but I tell you that I will tear your city stone from stone, and anoint its ruins with your blood.  Yes, your young men shall labour in the mines for me, and your high-born maidens shall wait upon my queens.  Listen you,”—­and he turned to his generals—­“let the messengers who are ready start east and west, and north and south, to the chiefs whose names you have, bidding them to meet me with their tribesmen, at the time and place appointed.  When next I speak with you, Elders of Zimboe, it shall be at the head of a hundred thousand warriors.”

“Then, King, on your hands be all the innocent lives that these words of yours have doomed, and may the weight of their wasted blood press you down to ruin and death.”

Thus answered Sakon proudly, but with pale lips, for do what they would to hide it, something of the fear they felt for the issue of this war was written on the faces of all his company.

Ithobal turned upon his heel, deigning no reply, but as he went he whispered a word into the ear of two of his captains, great men of war, who stayed behind the rest of his party searching for something upon the ground.  Sakon and his counsellors also turned, walking towards their escort, but Aziel lingered a little, fearing no danger, and being curious to learn what the men sought.

“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.