I am sorry that my generals tried to kill you last night.

I was making prayer to my god, or it should not have happened.

I have been well repaid for that deed, since an army should not make war upon four men, even though by their secret power four men can defeat an army.

I beseech you, and you also, Rose of Mur, to accept my proffered friendship, since otherwise, ere long, you will soon be dead, and your wisdom will perish with you for I am weary of this little war against a handful whom we despise.
"O Walda Nagasta, you have breathed threats against the Majesty of Harmac, but he is too strong for you, nor may the might that can turn a few bricks to dust and shatter the bones of men prevail against him who is shaped from the heart of a mountain and holds the spirit of eternity.
So at least I think: but even if it is decreed otherwise, what will that avail you?
If it should please the god to leave us because of your arts, the Fung will still remain to avenge him ere they follow.

Then I swear to you by my majesty and by the bones of my ancestors who sit in the caves of Mur, that I will spare but one of the Abati Jews, yourself, O Child of Kings, because of your great heart, and the three white men, your guests, should they survive the battle, because of their courage and their wisdom.