298 CRADLE TALES OF HINDUISM
gardens and pavilions of the palace they had wandered hand in hand. And Prithi Rai, lost in his happiness, had forgotten, as it seemed, the habits of the soldier. Nor did Sanjogata remember the wariness and alertness that are proper to great kings. It was like a cup of rich wine drunk before death. Yet were these two right royal souls, and knew well how to meet the end. Suddenly broke the storm of war. Sud- denly came the call to meet Mahmoud of Ghazni on the field of action. And then, without a tear, did Sanjogata fasten her husband's armour, and buckle on his sword, and kiss the royal jewel that she was to place m the front of his helmet. And while the battle raged around the standard 01 Delhi, she waited, cold and collected in the palace. What had she to fear ? The funeral fire stood ready, if the worst news should come. Not foi her to see the downfall of her country. Was she not the daughter and the wife of kings ?
Hours passed away, and ever on and farther onwards rolled the tide of battle — on one side the infuriated Kanauj, fighting by the side of the alien in faith and race, and on the other Prithi Rai with his faithful troops. Splendidly fought the adherents of the King of Delhi. But in the end the advantage of numbers prevailed, and Prithi Rai fell, pierced to the heart, at the foot of his own banner.
