A minute later I heard a rustle as of branches being moved by people thrusting their way through them. A choked voice commanded,
"Take him living or dead."
Armed men appeared about us, four of them, and one cried "Yield!"
I sprang up and drew the Wanderer's sword.
"Who orders the General Michael to yield in his own command?" I asked.
"I do," answered the man. "Yield or die!"
Now, thinking that these were robbers or murderers hired by some enemy, I sprang at him, nor was that battle long, for at my first stroke he fell dead. Then the other three set on me. But I wore mail beneath my doublet, as Irene had bade me do, and their swords glanced. Moreover, the old northern rage entered into me, and these easterners were no match for my skill and strength. First one and then another of them went down, whereon the third fled away, taking with him a grizzly wound behind, for I struck him as he fled.
"Now it seems there is an end of that," I gasped to Heliodore, who was crouched upon the seat. "Come, let me take you to your father and summon my guards, ere we meet more of these murderers."
