CHAPTER XL
INTO THE TREASURE-CITADEL
Well might those Legionaries who had been left behind to protect Nissrand the sacred gifts have envied the more fortunate ones now sweepinginto Jannati Shahr. The rear guard, however, formed no less essentiala part of the undertaking than the main body of the Legion.
This rear guard consisted of Grison, Menendez, Prisrend, Frazier,and Manderson. Their orders were as follows: If the main body did notreturn by midnight, or if sounds of firing were heard from the city,or again if they received direct orders via the Master's pocketwireless, they were at once to load the machine-guns on board theliner. They were to carry Myzab on board, also, and with the wirelessspark detonate the explosive which would reduce the Black Stone todust.
This accomplished, they were to start the engines and, if possible,make a getaway--which might be feasible for five men. If theysucceeded, they were to wheel over the city and drop the secondkappa-bomb, also all the remaining explosive, by way of punitivemeasures. Well-placed hits might wipe out most of the city and, withit, the population which had broken the Oath of the Salt.
The main body of the Legion would, of course, also perish in this_debacle_ if still alive; but the probability existed that beforeNissr could take the air, all would be dead.
The program was explicit. All five men of the rear guard fullyunderstood its every detail and all had sworn to carry it out to theletter. Their morale remained perfect; their discipline, under thecommand of Grison--left alone as they were in the midst of potentiallyhostile territory and with overwhelming masses of Mohammedans closeat hand--held them as firmly as did that of the advance guard nowwhirling up the wide, paved road to the gleaming gate of JannatiShahr.
This band of hardy adventurers, stout-hearted and armed withservice-revolvers, remained rather closely grouped, with the Arabsflanking and following them. At their head rode old Bara Miyan withthe Master, who well bestrode his saddle with burnished metal peaksand stitching of silver thread. After them came the three _imams_,Major Bohannan, Leclair, and "Captain Alden."
The "captain's" mask seemed somewhat to impress the Arabs, whowhispered among themselves concerning it. But not one suspected thesex of this Frank. The "captain" rode as gallantly as any, and with afirm hand reined her slim, white horse.
As the on-thundering swarm of horsemen approached the pointed arch,some sixty feet wide by ninety high, its intaglios and complexarabesques flashing with millions of sunlit sparkles, a clear,sustained chant drifted out over city and plain--the cry of someunseen muezzin, announcing news of great import to Jannati Shahr. Camean echoing call of trumpets, from far, hidden places in the city; andkettle-drums boomed with dull reverberation.
"_Labbayk_, _Allahuma_!" shouted Bara Miyan, announcing with praiseto Allah his entrance into the City of Gold. A long, great shoutinganswered him from the massed thousands of white figures on the walls.
The Master saw innumerable dark faces peering down from snowyburnouses and haiks. He saw the gleam of steel. Not one of the figureson the wall was veiled. Not one woman, therefore, had as yet beenpermitted to leave the perfumed dimness of the harems, even for thisstupendous event in the city's history. So far as the Master couldjudge, Captain Alden, lithely galloping close behind him, was the onlywoman visible in all that multitude.
With a bold clatter of hoofs, now loudly echoed and hurled back bythe walls, the cavalcade burst up to the city like the foam-crest ofa huge, white wave. For a moment, as the Master's horse whirled him inunder the gate, he cast a backward glance at the plain and along thebattlements.
That glance showed him a small, white-clad band of Arabs trudgingafoot over the green expanse--the men who, dismounting, had giventheir horses to the Legionaries. It showed him the pinions of _Nissr_gleaming like snow on the velvet plain; showed him, too, the vastsweep of the city's walls.
Those walls, no less than a hundred feet high, were cunninglyloopholed for defense. They presented a slightly concave facade to theplain, and slanted backward at about the angle of the Tower of Pisa.
Through their aureate glimmer, dazzling in the direct rays of thesun now well past its meridian, a glimpse of a flashing riverinstantaneously impressed itself on the Master's sight, with cascadingrapids among palm-groves, as it foamed from beneath the city walls.Then all was blotted out by the gleaming side of the stupendousarchway.
Up into a broad thoroughfare that rose on a steep slant--athoroughfare very different from the usual narrow, tortuous alleys ofArabian cities--the swarm of horsemen swept, with a dull clatter ofhoofs on the soft yellow pavement that gave almost like asphalt. Theutter lack of any ruts well proved that wheeled vehicles were hereunknown. Nothing harder than unshod horses, than goats and sheep, andthe soft pads of camels had ever worn these gleaming ways.
The brush of a Verestchagin, a Gerome, a Bida, skilled in the colorsof the Orient, would have been needed to paint even an impressionistic_coup d'oeil_ of this scene surpassing strange, now opening out beforethe Legionaries' eyes. Its elements were golden houses with door andwindow-frames of cedar, sandal, and teak; fretwork golden balconiesoverhanging streets and gardens where delicate palm-frondsswayed--balconies whence no doubt kohl-tinted eyes of women werepeering at the strange men in khaki, as henna-dyed fingers pulledaside silken curtains perfumed with musk and jasmine; mosques andminarets carven of the precious metal; dim streets, under striped silkawnings; a world of wonder to the Legion.
The Master saw, as the cavalcade swept along at unabated swiftness,glimpses of terraced roofs and cupolas tiled with blue and peacockhues; open-fronted shops hewn out of the all-present gold anddisplaying wares whereof the purchase-price could not be imaginedsince gold was everywhere; bazaars heaped with _babooshes_,_cherchias_, and robes of muslin, wool and silk, with fruits andflowers, tobacco, spices, sweetmeats, and perfumes, and with strangemerchandise unknown.
He caught swift vision of a wide _mirbad_, or open court for dryingdates; and then, through a low, golden arch, a camel-yard with avast number of kneeling, white dromedaries. And everywhere he sawinnumerable hosts of the people of Jannati Shahr.
The streets themselves were clear of people as the cavalcade thunderedon and on with many turnings; but every doorway, shop, arch, roof,terrace, and tower was packed with these silent, white-clad folk,bronze-faced and motionless, all armed with pistols, rifles, and coldsteel.
What some poet has called "a joyous fear" thrilled the Legion. No,not fear, in the sense of timidity, but rather a realization of theimmense perils of this situation, and an up-springing of the heart tomeet those perils, to face and overcome them, and from out their verymaw to snatch rewards beyond all calculation.
Even the Master himself, tempered in the fires of war's Hell, sensedthis tremendous potentiality of death as the tiny handful of white mengalloped on and on behind Bara Miyan. Here the Legion was, hemmed andpent by countless hordes of fanatics whom any chance word or look,construed as a religious insult, might lash to fury. Five men remainedoutside. The rest were now as drops of water in a hostile ocean. Inthe Master's breast-pocket still lay Kaukab el Durri--and might notthat possession, itself, be enough to start a jihad of extermination?
Was not the fact of unbelieving dogs now for the first time being inthe Sacred City--was not this, alone, cause for a massacre? What, insober reason, stood between the Legion and death? Only two factors:first, the potential destruction of the Myzab and the Black Stonein case of treachery; and second, two tiny pinches of salt exchangedbetween the Master and old Bara Miyan!
The situation, calmly reviewed, was one probably never paralleled inthe history of adventure--more like the dream of a hashish-smokingaddict than cold reality.
Very contending emotions possessed the hearts of the Legionaries, indifferent reactions to their diverse temperaments. Only a vastwonder mirrored itself in some faces, a kind of numb groping aftercomprehension, a failure to believe such a thing possible as a city ofpure and solid gold.
Others showed more critical interest, app
reciation of the wonderfulartistic effects of the carven gold in all its architecturaldevelopments under the skilled chisels of the Jannati Shahr folk.
Still others manifested only greed. The eyes of such, feverishlydevouring walls, cornices, pillars, seemed to say:
"God! If we only had the smallest of these things, what a fortune thatwould mean! What an incredible fortune!"
Each man, reacting under the overwhelming stimulus of this wondercity, in his own expression betrayed the heart and soul within him.And thus, each absorbed in his own thoughts and dreams, silently theLegionaries pondered as they galloped through the enchanted streets.
Some fifteen minutes' riding, with no slackening of the pace andalways on an upward grade toward what seemed the central citadel ofJannati Shahr, brought the party to an inner wall, forty feet highand pierced by a triple-arched gate surmounted by a minaret of goldenlacery.
Through the center arch rode Bara Miyan, now reining into a canter.The _imams_ and the Legionaries followed, and with them about fiftyof the Arabs, of superior rank. The rest drew rein outside, still incomplete silence.
The lessened cavalcade now found itself in what at first glance seemedan enchanted garden. Not even a feeling of anxiety caused by thesilent closing of the hugely massive golden gates that, as theypassed through, immediately blocked the triple exit, could divert theLegionaries' minds from the wondrous park confronting them.
Date and cocoa-palms with shadowy paths beneath them; clear rills withbamboo thickets along their banks and with tangles of white myrtle,red clouds of oleanders that diffused an almond perfume, delicatehybiscus, and unknown flowers combined to weave a magic woof ofbeauty, using the sifted sunlight for gold threads of warp.
Unseen water-wheels splashed coolly; vivid butterflies flickeredthrough masses of greenery among the acacia, mimosa, lote and mulberrytrees. And there were color-flashing parrots, too, a-wing and noisyin the high branches; and apes that swung and chattered; and round thehigh, golden walls of the citadel, half visible through the cloud ofgreen and party-colored foliage, whirls of pigeons, white as snow,flicked against the gold.
The Legionaries were hard put to it to obey the Master's order neverto express surprise or admiration. But they kept silence, though theireyes were busy; and presently through another smaller gate they allclattered into a _hosh_, or court, facing what obviously must havebeen the central citadel of Jannati Shahr.
Bara Miyan pulled sharply on the red, silver-broidered reins andcut back the frothing lip of his barb. With a slide almost on itshaunches, along the soft, golden pavement, the horse came to aquivering stand. All halted. And for a moment, the stamping of thehigh-nerved horses' hoofs echoed up along the tall citadel with itslatticed windows and its machicolated parapet a hundred and fifty feetin air.
"Well ridden, O Frank! Well ridden by thee and by all thy menof Feringistan!" exclaimed Bara Miyan, with what seemed realfriendliness, as he sat there on his high saddle, gravely stroking hisbeard. "It was a test for thee and thine, to see, by Allah! if the menof the unbelieving nations be also men like us of Araby!
"We of the Empty Abodes are 'born on horseback.' But ye, white as thewhite hand of Musa (Moses) have houses that, so I have heard, move oniron roads. And I see now ye have flying houses. Wherefore horses arenot dear to you, as to us. But I see that ye can ride like men. Welldone! _Salaam_!"
The Master returned a "_Bikum!_" of thanks. He would have been gladto wipe his forehead, streaming with sweat; and so, too, would theothers. But pride restrained them. Not for them such weakness as theuse of a handkerchief, in presence of these half-hundred grave-eyed,silently observing men of Jannati Shahr.
"Faith, though," the major whispered to "Captain Alden," close behindhim, "of all ways to take a walk, my favorite way _not_ to is on anArab horse with a saddle like the Inquisition! Tomorrow, oh, my poorbones, tomorrow!"
Bara Miyan was speaking again, while the Master, Leclair, andhis orderly, Lebon--who alone of the Legionaries understoodArabic--listened closely.
"Now that we have eaten salt and are _akhawat_ brethren," said he, "wemust break bread together. Let thyself and all thy men partake of foodwith us, O Frank! Then we will speak of the present, we shall bestowon thee. _Bismillah!_ Dismount, White Sheik, and enter!"
The Master bowed, and swung himself from his horse. All did the same,Legionaries and Arabs alike. And for a moment they stood there in thesunlight before the long colonnade that occupied the lower storyof the citadel; while from beneath that colonnade issued a dozen orfifteen of the black, muscular Maghrabi men, two of whom--in therole of official stranglers--they had already seen. These powerfulhalf-savages took the horses away, the hoofs clacking hollowly on thegolden pavement.
Bara Miyan led the way in under the colonnade, which, though of goldlike all else in this, wonder city, still offered grateful shade.The perpetual glare of the golden roadways, houses, towers,balconies--even covered as many were with floating curtains of muslinor silk--had been trying to eyes and nerves. Infinitely preferablewould stone or wood have been, for dwellings; but as Jannati Shahrwas, so the Legion had to take it. And doubtless long generations offamiliarity with it had made it wholly normal, pleasant, and innocuousto these super-Arabs.
The Jannati Shahr men began kicking off their _babooshes_ and slidingtheir naked feet into light slippers, rows upon rows of which stoodunder the portico. The Master and Leclair quickly put off theirshoes and took slippers; the others followed suit. But not withoutunwillingness did the Master make the change.
"This will put us at a very serious disadvantage," thought he, "incase it comes to fighting. These people are used to going almostbarefooted. We are not. Still, there's no help for it. But I'd likeinfernally well to keep my shoes!"
All he said was:
"Remember now, men, no women and no wine! If this city is like theusual Arab towns, there will be neither in sight. But if not,and temptations arise, remember my orders! No drop of any kind ofliquor--and no flirtation. I'll deal summarily with any man whoforgets himself. There's everything at stake now, in the next hour ortwo. We can't jeopardize it all for any nonsense!"
The major groaned, inwardly. Thirsts were on his Celtic soul thatlonged for dalliance with the Orient; but he well knew that tone ofvoice, and sadly resigned himself to abstinence.
"Keep your revolvers loose in the holsters, men," the Master added,as Bara Miyan gestured toward the slowly opening entrance of thecitadel--a massive door as all doors seemed in Jannati Shahr; adoor of gold reinforced with huge teak beams. "Watch for any signof treachery, but don't shoot until I give the order. Then, shoot tokill! And whatever you do, stick together. Don't separate, no matterwhat the provocation! Now, follow me!"
A strange feeling of anxiety, almost of fear, had taken hold on theMaster's heart. This fear was not in the least for himself or anyof the men. Hard-bitted adventurers all, they had gone into thisexpedition with their eyes open, well knowing that some mustinevitably die before its close. They had gambled at dice with Fate;and, losing, could have no complaint.
It was all for "Captain Alden" that the Master's anxiety was nowawakened. Here was a woman, not only exposed to risks of death, butalso of capture by Orientals--and what it might mean to a white womanto be seized for some hidden harem in Jannati Shahr the Master knewonly too well. He found a moment's pause to speak in a low tone to the"captain," unheard by any of the others.
"Remember the mercy-bullet!" said he. "If anything happens and there'sany risk of capture--remember, the last one for yourself!"
"If the worst comes," she whispered, "we can at least share deathtogether!"
He gazed at her a moment, not quite fathoming her words, but with aninexplicable tightening round the heart.
"We can at least share death together!"
Why should those words so powerfully affect him? What were theseuncomprehended, new emotions stirring in his hard soul, tempered bywar and by unnumbered stern adventurings?
The Master had no skill in self-analysis, to
tell him. Leader ofothers, himself he did not understand. But as that night aboard Nissr,when he had laid a hand on the woman's cabin door, something unknownto him seemed drawing him to her, making her welfare and her lifeassume a strange import.
"Come, O Frank!" Bara Miyan was saying. The Olema's words recalled theMaster to himself with a start. "Such food and drink as we men of ElBarr have, gladly we share with thee and thine!"
The old man entered the dark doorway of the citadel, noiselessly insoft sandals. Beside him walked the Master; and, well grouped andflanked and followed by the Arabs in their white robes--all silent,grave, watchful--the Legion also entered.
Behind them once more closed the massive doors, silently.
The eighteen Legionaries were pent in solid walls of metal, there inthe heart of a vast city of fighting-men whose god was Allah and towhom all unbelievers were as outcasts and as pariah dogs--anathema.
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