Swords From the East (28 page)

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Authors: Harold Lamb

Tags: #Historical Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Short Stories (Single Author), #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Suspense, #Adventure Fiction, #Historical, #Short Stories, #Adventure Stories

BOOK: Swords From the East
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They passed through the wood to a series of grassy terraces where a flock of sheep grazed, and flowerbeds set with iris and thyme ringed round the black bulk of the castle. Suddenly Mingan looked up.

"Strangers! Who are ye? Whence come ye? What do ye seek?"

It was a shrill cry from directly over their heads. Brilliant in the clear sunshine of the mountaintop, a bird with green and blue and red feathers fluttered.

Chepe Noyon stayed his song.

"We are two wanderers from the desert with tidings, 0 Winged Talker. In peace we seek Prester John."

"Who are ye? Whence come ye?"

The bird circled their heads and there was no doubt that it uttered the words. Then, rising, it flew toward the tower of the castle, and its cry became fainter-

"Strangers-in the garden of Prester John."

The two warriors looked at each other in silence. They had not the least doubt that they were in the abode of a magician. Birds that talked-wild beasts as tame as fireside cats-doubtless the castle sheltered greater wonders. They went over the sheep meadows more slowly, and looked back. Mingan saw that the bear passed the flock with only a casual glance and, more remarkable, the sheep took no heed of the bear.

Chepe Noyon had said that in the place of Prester John was peace, and here, surely, was evidence of it-among the animals. There was something in the garden that was not to be found in all Cathay and the Gobi, so Mingan reasoned. What of Burta? No human being was visible, even the mutes at the gate being hidden by the line of cypresses that stretched from the castle to the wall.

"Come," said the Tiger, shouldering his lute.

The hall of the castle was empty, although two candles burned at the table set below the dais at the upper end. From the walls hung tapestries wherein were worked stories unfamiliar to Mingan-an army on the march, and one that puzzled him, a stable over which a rayed star pictured above a woman with a child who sat in the midst of cattle and sheep.

On the table between the candles were gold vessels bearing food and covers for three.

As the two warriors entered the hall, Mingan fancied that a figure slipped out of sight at one side of the dais. Here a curtain of heavy silk stained with age covered the wall at the end of the hall, and near the curtain a door led them into a side corridor from which stairs ran up the castle tower.

They climbed the steps, seeing dusty armor and spears here and there by embrasures, but no sign of the man who had vanished from their sight. On the tower summit they were able to overlook all the gardens of Tangut, the wall, and the valley of the city. They saw the two mutes standing in the open gate at the head of the stair and the tiny forms of the bear and the leopard moving about on the terrace.

But no other living object. While Chepe Noyon gazed at the dust wreaths on the plain that were horsemen moving in toward the city, Mingan was intent on the panorama of mountain peaks rising to the west, to far snow summits.

"The Roof of the World,"*
explained the Tiger, "whence it is said that Prester John came to this land. See yonder, in the east, riders draw in to Tangut-messengers from the armies, or perhaps the first of the fleeing. Our time is short; before nightfall must we find the daughter of Podu and speak with the master of the castle. Tangut will be ringed in iron and flame."

Chepe Noyon spoke under his breath. True, he could see no sign of the lord of the castle. Yet the table was set and-a magician who could talk through birds might well be invisible to mortal eyes.

"0 minstrels, Prester John of Asia gives you greeting and would welcome you at his table."

The warriors beheld a boy at the head of the stairs, who bowed and motioned for them to follow him. Chepe Noyon's teeth clinked spasmodically, but Mingan, who seldom lost his presence of mind, followed the page down to the corridor and into the hall.

A glance showed him that incense was burning now in front of the curtain. At the table, attended by another youth, and by the great mastiff, sat a tall man who did not look up at their coming. He lifted a hand in greeting and Chepe Noyon knelt, while Mingan, harking back to his days at the court of Cathay, made the triple obeisance of respect.

Respect, assuredly, was due the alert brown face, the white beard of the aged king, who wore instead of a crown a cap of cloth-of-gold peaked in the front and the back, and a wide-sleeved robe with a red cape across the shoulders. A shepherd's crook stood beside his chair.

On one shoulder perched the parrot which straightway began its warning-

"Strangers in the garden-"

"Peace, chatterer-" Prester John signed to two chairs at the table-"it is long since men have come to my hall with tidings of the valley and the plain. This is the day the star will be over Tangut. So doubly welcome are ye who come from the desert. Eat, therefore, and rest."

He nodded to the attendants, who brought basins and towels and washed the hands of the wanderers, thereafter setting food before them.

"Few abide in the castle," went on the king, "for those who served me aforetime have been called down into the city, and the warders at the wall are men-at-arms unknown to me." He stretched out a hand and placed it on the broad head of the mastiff. "Yet have I warders three who sleep not, and leave me not. My pages say that you wear the garb of minstrels, 0 my guests. How come you into the castle?"

Chepe Noyon for once was silent, so Mingan related how they climbed the wall and appeased the leopard. He studied the thin face of the old man, who never looked up or moved in his seat. Prester John's words were those of one who was accustomed to command, and despite his courtesy he seemed troubled. Now, however, he smiled a little and lifted his eyes.

"Well did you, minstrel, when you turned your hand to music, not to a blow. The leopard is restless, and is pleased with my harp and voice when I beguile him so. The bear and this warrior-" he touched the dog again-"are gentle. Aforetime I healed a wound in his chest made by a boar's tusk, and made whole the broken leg of the bear that was caught in a trap near the castle. They have grown up under my hand."

Mingan knew now what he had suspected at first, that Prester John was blind.

He finished a light meal in silence, sharing the suspense that held Chepe Noyon voiceless. The king ate a little fruit and drank some wine, feeding the while pieces of bread to the mastiff.

"Where is the maiden who sought sanctuary in the castle yesterday?" he asked one of the youths.

"0 sire, it is not known to us."

A frown crossed the forehead of the blind man.

"In the night I heard her voice at a distance. By old usage she should have shelter in the castle, for that was the law of the first Presbyter-sanctuary, even to the beasts of the field. Of late, however, my people have not come up from the city that I should sit in judgment." He turned to the warriors. "Some men of Jamuka, who is absent on the border, brought into the gate yesterday a woman from the desert who awaits the return of Jamuka near the castle. Have you seen her?"

"Nay," said Chepe Noyon, uneasily.

"She was brought hither against her will," added Mingan quietly. "A captive."

Prester John turned sightless eyes on the Cathayan, as if to probe into the truth of his words.

"The maiden herself can tell us her case, 0 minstrel." Signing to one of the boys, he ordered them to search for Burta, the Gipsy, and bring her to him.

"Until then I would hear a song, or a tale. Yet first I would know the names of my guests."

"0 my king," said the Tiger, "I am Chepe Noyon, of Tangut."

"Who wandered from our land seeking adventure." Prester John smiled a little. "Did you find it, 0 youthful Tiger?"

"Aye," put in Mingan steadily, "in the camp of Genghis Khan, the master of the desert. And I, too, am a companion of the khan, Mingan, once Prince of Liao-tung in Cathay. Now, sire, a wanderer, seeking justice for-a maid. I have the gift of reading men's faces and I know that here at your hand will I find justice for Burta, and the unveiling of treachery."

The Christian king lifted his hand.

"You speak boldly, 0 prince of Cathay. What treachery?"

"Among my people it is said that a crooked trumpet will not make harmony, and a lie rings falsely in the ear. There is time-" he glanced up at the sunbeams that came in through the embrasures high overhead-"for naught but truth between us, and our lives-mine and the Tiger's-are pledges of this truth. I will tell you a tale, as you in your bounty gave permission. Then will it be for you to judge what the treachery is."

Prester John considered.

"Begin, and omit naught, my guest."

So it happened that Mingan related to the king of the Christians how he had joined the Horde of the desert, and how Genghis Khan had made himself Master of the Horde, and had come to war with Jamuka. He told of the death of Podu and the capture of Burta. Earnestly and swiftly he spoke, ending his tale with the arrival in the city, and sparing mention of the battle.

When he had done, Chepe Noyon, encouraged by the silence of the blind man, added excitedly: "0 sire, deal with me as you will, but know that you have enemies in Tangut. Turks guard the stair leading to the castle, and others the gate. Tidings are kept from your ears-the messengers from Genghis Khan to you were slain. The people call to you from below and are struck down by Jamuka's men-"

Mingan laid a hand on his arm, but the young warrior shook him off.

"0 my king, it is said in Tangut that you are able to cast a spell on your foes. Arise, don the armor that in the time of my father's father you were wont to wear among your people, the Christians of Asia! Slay, with your art of magic, the false Turks who hold your gate, and go down to those who cry to you for aid-"

"My son," Prester John stood up and the two warriors rose, "I am blind, and so was I born."

"But you have lived for twelve times a hundred years!"

The old king shook his head.

"My son, you have lived afar from the castle and have listened to idle tales. I have no more than three score years and ten, nor am I a worker of magic, save that beasts are gentle under my hand, and that I seek to serve the Cross."

With the assured step of one who knows his surroundings, he moved to the curtain and drew it aside, disclosing an altar of white marble where, on a spotless cloth, stood a gold cross.

Letting fall the curtain, the blind man knelt a moment on the step of the dais in prayer. When he rose it was with new decision.

"By the voices of men, 0 Cathayan, I know the speakers of truth, as you read their faces. Harken, therefore, ye two, to the tale of glory of the first of my line, and the shame that is mine.

"Twelve hundred years ago, the king of a tribe in the Roof of the World sought a secret adventure to the south. In early winter, near the city of Damascus, he was attracted by a strange star of surpassing brilliancy. He followed this sign and fell in with two other monarchs of men who had also seen the star.

"It led them to the land of Judea, of the king Herod, where a king was born. The three, out of their wisdom, were called Magi by those who watched them tender gifts and then return to their own lands.

"The one who went back into the mountains of Asia ruled with a strong hand and did not forget. In time, he took on himself a new faith and assumed a new name, John. By some he was called Presbyter or priest, as were the eldest sons of his line-my sires," concluded Prester John. "Aye, they lived their allotted time rejoicing, for they were strong men and very palladins; they feared not the sword of any man, but guarded their people with the sword. Yet I, the last of the line, am otherwise, for I am blind and may not put on the shining armor or take up the brand. That is my shame.

"Since the time of my grandsire, tales have come to us through the Moslem caravans that Christian palladins of the west have conquered Jerusalem, but their armies have not come beyond the Euphrates, and the missives I have sent to them have had no answer."*

So Prester John spoke, and when he ceased one of the pages who had returned to the hall cried out-"Sire, there is no woman within the wall of the garden, but out on the plain a myriad horsemen draw in toward the city."

"Come with me to the tower," said the king, "and serve me with your eyes."

Without guidance from the warriors the blind man felt his way up to the summit of the tower. A brisk wind whipped at his long locks, and the level light of the hour before sunset struck through the garden, revealing black specks on the brown plain entering the wooded districts about the river among the foothills. Mingan's keen sight identified the first comers as Jelairs and Keraits, several thousand of them, and behind, in a wide arc, the dark blotches of pursuing cavalry.

"The Horde!" cried Chepe Noyon. "At Jamuka's heels."

Swiftly he told Prester John of Jamuka's attempt to withstand Genghis Khan, his defeat, and flight to the city.

The lines in the blind man's face deepened, but his voice was unhurried as ever as he explained how Jamuka had come to Tangut, professing to be a convert to Christianity; how-in the king's inability to leave the castle-he had allowed Jamuka first to guard his frontier, then to wear the bear's head that was the token of the leader of the Tangut horsemen; how Jamuka had warned him of the arrogance and hostility of Genghis Khan, whom he called the man-slayer.

At first Prester John had waited for the son of Yesukai, who had been his friend, to come to the castle. But Genghis Khan did not appear, and the tale was spread in Tangut that the Mongol had slain old Podu, the Gipsy chief, and had threatened the death of Prester John. Then the Horde had come.

"The Master of Plotting," responded Mingan promptly, "is also a master of lies. Pretending to be the friend of Genghis Khan, he planned to make himself Master of the Horde. Aye, King of the Keraits, he misused the power you gave him, seeking to use the Keraits against the Mongols. Jamuka is a Moslem, and his was the treachery of which I spoke. He is the real gainer from the caravan trade-"

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