Swords From the West (74 page)

Still, however, was heard the summons of the drum and cymbal from the Mongol camp.

"Yah khawand!" the voice of the beg spoke at his side. "Evil tidings have come. The Mongols have struck in another place along the river. They stole up and smashed the chain with sledges and swam their horses between the towers of the river gate. They are slaying the men in the barges-"

"Send to Kutchluk Khan. Bid him ride with all his men to the river. Half his division should cross the bridge to this side. Then order five thousand Persian archers to the house-tops along the river to support the Turkomans! Haste!"

While he waited anxiously for news of the fight at the river he saw torches assembling in the Mongol camp. Fresh warriors walked to the lower end of the causeway and began to mount silently.

Under the flaming cressets of the wall he could make out that these were powerful men with the horns of beasts upon their fur caps. Those in front carried beams; behind these came ranks of swordsmen in rude iron armor, followed by masses of archers.

Robert realized that the Mongols had launched their main attack at the river under cover of the assault on the causeway. The fresh effort might mean that they had been checked by Kutchluk, or that they had been vic torious behind him and meant to press home the attack. As yet he heard no fighting on the river nearby, and he breathed a prayer that the one-eyed Turkoman had driven home his charge.

Again the Mongols thrust forward their beams and swarmed to the assault. An arrow struck the Kankali begin the throat, and his body fell under the feet of his men.

"Are ye dogs?" Robert cried at the Moslems. "Come with me!"

He climbed the rampart, followed by all on the wall. The Mongols stood their ground, shouting and wreaking havoc with their heavy weapons. With his long ax Robert cleared a space around him and planted his feet, dizzy with the blows that smashed in the steel of his helmet. Warm blood trickled down his ribs, and hot air seared his lungs.

Until his arms were wearied he stood his ground, until the ax broke in his hands, when he fell to rallying the Moslems, who gave back on either side. The weariness crept into his brain, and he fancied he was standing at the head of a great stair up which writhed grimacing dwarfs with hands outstretched to drag him down into darkness.

A moment's pause enabled him to wipe the sweat from his eyes, and he saw Chepe Noyon clearly. The Mongol chief was halfway down the causeway beside a thickset warrior. This man leaned on a spear, staring up at the fight without expression. His massive arms were bound at the biceps with gold rings, and he wore the long horns of a buffalo on his helmet.

When his glance fell on the knight the powerful Mongol tossed down his spear and strode up the causeway, thrusting friends and foes from his path as a man might push aside cornstalks.

"Subotai- Subotai! " the nearest Mongols howled exultantly.

Robert fought for breath and looked about vainly for a weapon suited to his strength. Measuring the man with the buffalo horns and his own weariness, he felt that he would not be upon his feet for long.

"Yield thyself," Chepe Noyon's voice reached him through the uproar, "to the paladin, Subotai, and no shame is thine!"

"I yield to no man!" Robert cried and stepped forward.

A fresh onrush of Moslems from the wall swept between them as reinforcements came up at last from the Persian camp at the palace. Subotai crushed in the head of a warrior with his sword and leaped to one side, knocking two others from their feet. Then other Mongols sprang to the aid of their leader, who was drawn back, snarling angrily, as the besiegers were thrust back by weight of numbers, and the incline cleared.

Robert watched until the fight on the causeway was over. For the first time he noticed that a broad streak of light ran along the horizon. The struggle had lasted through the night.

"0 captain of thousands and companion of heroes," a glittering Persian addressed him respectfully, "the barbarians have been scattered at the river gate. They have left the waters thick with their dead, and Kutchluk Khan hath passed to the mercy of God with more than the half of his men."

When the sun rose the sound of the drums ceased. The crusader sought his horse and climbed stiffly into the saddle, while throngs of Bokharians clustered about him and cried praises on the infidel emir. Men fought for the privilege of taking the reins of his horse and leading him into the thick of the shouting mob, while women tossed roses from the housetops.

"The barbarians are withdrawing their tents from the river!" A warrior stood up in his stirrups to call out. "Hai-they are scattered! The favor of Allah is with the faithful! The triumph is with Bokhara!"

Robert was aware that the rejoicing was ill-timed. Yet was he too weary with his hurts to think of the future. He had held the wall and had made good his word to Muhammad. So might Alexander in other days have ridden through the streets of the ancient city and received the salutes of his warriors.

The tumult died down when he reached the square where some Persian mounted archers were drawn up by the mosque. At their head was Jahan Khan, relieved of his chains, sitting his horse beside the litter of Osman. On the steps of the mosque stood the mullah, Nur-Anim, with a paper in his hand and an array of priests behind him. The Moslem who had been leading his horse withdrew, and the crusader halted before the steps of the Jumma.

"Greeting, 0 prince of warriors and paladin of swordsmen," Nur-Anim said in his high voice. "Upon thee-the Salute! And now hear the word of Muhammad, Shah of shahs. This firm an, this decree, he left with me to be read when victory had fallen to our arms."

Robert glanced at Jahan Khan, who had been released without his order, and saw that the Kankali was staring at him curiously. A thousand eyes were on him as he sat his charger without helm or sword, with armor and surcoat hacked and stained.

It is the will of Muhammad Shah that Osman the wazirshall watch closely the deeds of the infidel leader of the garrison. If the Frank pre sumes to set foot in a mosque or to contrive aught against the treasure of Khar or raise his hand against a true believer he is to be put in chains and held captive until my return. If he resists this command he must be slain with a sword. The Peace upon my servants.

Robert's lips drew into a hard line, and he lifted his head angrily. Yet, thinking of the three who looked for his coming in the house of the fountain, he waited until he could speak calmly.

"Have I kept my word to Muhammad?"

"Aye," assented Nur-Anim, rolling up the decree. "It was written that victory should be, and you have served fate."

"Then will the shah make good his word to me?"

The mullah glanced at Osman, who raised himself on his elbow to speak; but the knight was before him.

"0 Moslems, it is also written that he who breaks an oath is without honor. I have been guilty of none of these things. Who is to be my judge?"

"The wazir and I."

Robert rallied his wits and tried to shake off his weariness. His head pained him, and loss of blood made it hard to sit erect in the saddle. His eyes went from one face to another and read in them only exultant mockery-save for two or three of the officers who had served him on the wall.

"And who speaks against me?"

"I!" cried Osman loudly. "Give heed, 0 Moslems, to the ill deeds of this Frank. He schemed in his garden to steal the treasure of Khar from the mosque. I made a test of him, and witnesses without the wall heard."

A murmur of astonishment and anger came from the lips of those who listened.

"He cast dirt upon the beard of Jahan Khan," went on the wazir. "And the boy Hassan he slew in the night for no cause. Women saw it done and will testify."

Seeing clearly that Osman had determined to get rid of him, Robert held up his hand silently, and after awhile-such was the prestige of the man who had defended the city against the Mongols-the murmurs quieted down.

"These be words, and lying words!" he cried. "Do ye believe, ye who have beheld my deeds?"

Some of the warriors looked about restlessly, and all eyes sought NurAnim. The mullah could have cast his influence for either man, and he chose to favor the wazir.

"Ye have heard the word of the shah!"

He lifted the rolled parchment.

"I obey the word."

Robert tightened his rein and urged his horse slowly along the line of the Bokharians, glancing into each face. And now he beheld only sullen fanaticism and hatred. He had been tricked and cast aside when they believed his work was done. The anger that he held in check swept over him.

"0 fools! I could have let the Mongols into the city. Who will lead you when I am gone?"

He ripped the signet ring from his finger and hurled it at Nur-Anim.

"Greet Muhammad with this, and do you, find honor in it if you can."

"Take the dog of a Nazarene!"

Robert wheeled his horse and headed for the Persians who closed in on him. One man he threw from the saddle, and his charger shouldered another out of the way. Vainly he sought to win through the press to reach the three who awaited him in the house of the fountain. A warrior struck him on the head with a mace, and he fell, under his rearing horse. A red mist gathered before his eyes, and powerful hands forced him to his feet. His wrists were bound behind him, and a cord was slipped over his head. The cord tightened, and he stumbled forward.

When his sight cleared he saw that he was being led out of the righistan beside Osman's litter, and the wazir was leaning on his elbow the better to feast his eyes on his prisoner.

"Is thy memory so short, 0 Nazarene? Not three days ago you put yourself before me. You took from me the treasure, the diamond sheen, the houri out of paradise. Didst thou believe I had forgotten? Nay, I will take again the treasure that is more than gold-my eyes will take delight in the face that is fairer than diamonds. Ha, you will live to see that-dog of an unbeliever."

At the gate of his palace he paused to stare a moment longer at his captive.

"Put upon him the chain that may not be loosened and the weight that may not be set down."

In the courtyard Robert was seized by slaves who riveted upon his wrists fetters to which chains were attached. These chains in turn supported a round ball of iron half as heavy as a man-a spiked ball, stained with dried blood.

"This is the morning star, Nazarene," Osman smiled, "for when you awake from sleep it lies near you, and when you would go forth it stirs not. Many who have looked upon it long have cursed the sun and prayed for death."

The slaves urged him toward a postern door of the tower. To obey, he was forced to pick up the weight and carry it, for the chains were too short to allow him to stand upright. He went forward, and the door closed on him, leaving him in darkness. But for a moment before the door was shut, he heard the distant mutter of great drums and the clash of the Mongol cymbals.

Chapter XIV

For those who watch the highway and for those who sit by the carpet of sickness, the sands run slowly from the hourglass, and the water lingers in the wheel of the water clock.

That day the muezzin did not call from the minarets at the noon hour. Will Bunsley and Ellen had grown accustomed to hearing the cry to prayer when the sun was at its highest point, and they looked up at the white spires without seeing turbaned figures in the tiny platforms that stood against the blue of the sky.

It was a cloudless day, and no wind stirred the spray of the fountain in the garden. Ellen hung about the path, making pretense of gathering flowers, but really listening with all her ears to the sounds in the street beyond the wall, to be ready to unbar the door the moment she heard Robert's ringing-

"Gate ho!"

She noticed that the noises of the street had changed. There was a steady mutter of voices and a shuffling of feet. The cries of children and the quarreling of loiterers were lacking. And no word came of Robert.

"Lady," quoth Will Bunsley, arranging his collection of arrows in sundry quivers, "the foe doth make a bruit with drum and horn, so methinks Sir Robert is yet upon the wall."

"But there is no fighting now."

Will scratched his head and looked up at the sky dubiously. "Fighting? Nay, I think so. Armed bands do pass a-nigh us; so perchance Sir Robert hath driven the foe out upon the plain."

"Master Will! You know as well as I that my lord would permit of no sally!"

Squinting down an arrow, the archer paused to cut back the feathering a trifle. Every day of their stay in the garden he had come in with news of Robert's deeds and his health, and he was well aware that the maid loved the knight with an enduring love.

"Hum. Why then, being weary, my lord doth sleep. For, look ye, a night of swordstrokes doth weary a wight somewhat. Even I-"

Ellen smiled at him. "You are a brave liar and a hardy rogue, Will Bunsley. Think you Sir Robert would sleep when the clarions were sounding? Oh, for one word-"

She broke off to listen to the murmur outside the gate, her brown eyes dark with anxiety, for Ellen herself had not slept while the clarions were heard upon the wall.

"Why, lass, he will be here anon," nodded the archer confidently. "Aye, he sought you out i' the mountain pass and in the wizarder's palace. So go thou within and change to thy warrior dress to greet him."

The girl knew that Will was hiding his misgivings and wished her to be clad as a man because he thought danger was at hand. So she went to her chamber and donned the light mail and steel cap, thrusting her hair beneath the cotton drop. Casting the silk khalat over her shoulders, she hurried forth to the garden. For a moment her glance quested in search of Will, who had disappeared. Then she heard his voice, loud with amazement.

"Lass-lass! The good father sees-he sees! A miracle hath come to pass!"

Ellen caught her breath, and, realizing better than the yeoman what his words portended, ran swiftly to the room of Father Evagrius. The patriarch was sitting up, one hand clasping his thin chest, the other outstretched in the air; his emaciated face was flushed, and his lips quivered. Will Bunsley stood agape in a far corner.