THE KING! THE KING!

The Immortals attacked. Everard's ax clanged against metal, darted in and smashed a knuckle. A blow whistled toward his head. He ducked behind a column; chips flew. An opening ... sword and ax rattled together. Everard tried to close in ... a clinch with the Chiliarch would keep the Persians from throwing their weapons, but they were circling to get at his rear. Judas, this might be the end of one more Patrolman ...

"Halt! The King comes! Fall on your faces! The King! The King!" the herald bellowed.

Cyrus the Great's voice rang through the sudden silence. "What is this? Where is the stranger who called on me?"

Everard stood up and murmured: "Hi, Keith."