Thrice he strove, then fell backwards and lay upon the sand, waving his sword and shouting where he lay, while Masouda stood by him, a dagger in her hand, and with her Rosamund upon her knees.
Now the pursuers were the pursued, and dreadful was the reckoning that they must pay.

Their horses were outworn and could not fly at speed.

Some of the fedai were cut down upon them.

Some dismounted, and gathering themselves in little groups, fought bravely till they were slain, while a few were taken prisoners.
Of all that great troup of men not a score won back alive to Masyaf to make report to their master of how the chase of his lost bride had ended.
A while later and Wulf from his seat upon the ground saw Godwin riding back towards him, his red sword in his hand.

With him rode a sturdy, bright-eyed man gorgeously apparelled, at the sight of whom Rosamund sprang to her feet; then, as he dismounted, ran forward and with a little cry cast her arms about him.
"Hassan! Prince Hassan! Is it indeed you?
Oh, God be praised!" she gasped, then, had not Masouda caught her, would have fallen.
The Emir looked at her, her long hair loose, her face stained, her veil torn, but still clad in the silk and gleaming gems with which she had been decked as the bride-elect of Al-je-bal.