“Look your last upon the sun, Thieves,” mocked Idernes, “for when you see it again, it shall be with blind eyes from the points of spears fastened to the gateway pillars of the Great King’s palace.”

“Liars you have lived and liars you shall die,” shouted Bes, but I said nothing.

Now the agreement was that when the word had been given Idernes and I, and the noble and Bes, should fight together, but if they killed one of us, or we killed one of them, the two who survived might fall together on the remaining man.  Remembering this, as he told me afterwards, at the signal Bes leapt forward like a flash with working face and foam upon his lips, and before ever I could come to Idernes, how I know not, had received the blow of the Eastern lord upon his shield and without striking back, had gripped him in his long arms and wrapped him round with his bowed legs.  In an instant they were on the ground, Bes uppermost, and I heard the sound of blow upon blow struck with knife or sword, I knew not which, upon the Eastern’s mail, followed by a shout of victory from the Egyptians which told me that Bes had slain him.

Now Idernes and I were smiting at each other.  He was a taller and a bigger man than myself, but older and one who had lived too well.  Therefore I thought it wise to keep him at a distance and tire him, which I did by retreating and catching his sword-cuts on my shield, only smiting back now and again.

“He runs!  He runs!” shouted the Easterns.  “O Idernes, beware the dwarf!”

“Stand away, Bes,” I called; “this is my game,” and he obeyed, as often he had done when we were hunting together.

Now a shrewd blow from Idernes cut through my helm and staggered me, and another before I could recover myself, shore the shield from my hand, whereat the Easterns shouted more loudly than before.  Then fear of defeat entered into me and made me mad, for this Satrap was a great fighter.  With a shout of “Egypt!” I went at him like a wounded lion and soon it was his turn to stagger back.  But alas!  I struck too hard, for my sword snapped upon his mail.

“The knife!” screamed Bes; “the knife!”

I hurled the sword hilt in the Satrap’s face and drew the dagger from my belt.  Then I ran in beneath his guard and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.  He gripped me and we went down side by side, rolling over each other.  The gods know how it ended, for things were growing dim to me when some thrust of mine found a rent in his mail made when the sword broke and he became weak.  His spirit weakened also, for he gasped,

“Spare my life, Egyptian, and my treasure is yours.  I swear it by the Fire.”

“Not for all the treasure in the world, Slanderer,” I panted back and drove the dagger home to the hilt thrice, until he died.  Then I staggered to my feet, and when the armies saw that it was I who rose while Idernes lay still a roar of triumph went up from the Egyptians, answered by a roar of rage from the Easterns.