They would be all right. If he came back. He went through the small gate into the road, taking his first step with his right foot, glancing up for any signs among the birds. No omens there. He wished there hadn't been four soldiers sent.
Someone ought to have known better.
Little to be done about that now, however. He would burn incense at the fortress, in propitiation. Rustem gripped his stick and struggled to present an appearance of equanimity. He didn't think he was succeeding. The King of Kings.