by Harold Lamb
They advanced with a heavy tread toward the governor. And by degrees the men of Kudak quieted their superstitious dread. These strangers were human beings.
Ayub blinked and scratched his head. By now he knew the two men— the koshevoi of his camp, head of the siech, and the veteran who had lost his arm in the last battle with the Moslems.
But why had the people of Kudak spoken the name of Rurik?
Two paces from the governor's horse the old Cossack in the crimson svitza halted. His one eye flickered about him, taking in the banner of the sta-rosta, the demolished gate of Khor, and the soldiery. This eye was curiously light, steel-gray. Those were present who found it disconcerting. John of Kudak gathered up his reins impatiently.
"What man are you? What do you seek?"
The eye of the Cossack fixed on the starosta and he seemed to reflect.
"I am the chief of all the Cossacks."
He held up an ivory baton, tipped with gold.
"I am the koshevoi, and I have come for powder."
"At an ill time, you have come. I have work to do, for the Crown. Later— this evening—koshevoi, I will talk with you."
The Cossack pointed with his baton at kegs of powder, standing by the cannon. "My men must have plenty of powder, starosta. The red cock1 is loose on the border. The forces of the Grand Turk are stepping over the frontier, from the Black Sea. They are taking slaves from the Christian villages."
"That is your affair. Mine is to keep Kudak fortified."
The koshevoi considered this and shook his head. "The tsar, Boris Godunov, gave his word that my children, the Cossacks, should be supplied with means to fight the Moslems. If they rub out the Christians below the Wilderness this Winter, with the first grass the janissaries of the Crescent will be masters of Poland and Kiev and Moscow. I came with one man because my kurens are all on the line of battle. My word is enough—for you. Give the powder."
The long chin of the governor thrust out, and his cheeks reddened. But before he could answer, Ayub pushed through the throng around him, with Varan at his side. The wrists of the lieutenant were bound, and he was weaponless.
"By the saints!" cried the governor, "what is this, Varan?"
Ayub spoke to the koshevoi.
"Father, we have dragged the Lord of the River out of the river—aye and emptied a bellyful of water out of him to boot. This captive is the leader of the pirates, and he can tell where the Cossacks' powder is hidden."
Those in the retinue of the governor stared at Ayub and his prisoner in complete amazement, only the merchant, Sigismund, fingered his lip and his eyes hardened as if he were casting the lots for a great stake.
Varan smiled.
"Lies, Excellency—as you know. This vagabond attacked me when I was patrolling the river below Khor, and slew most of my men. He is a savage, and to escape torture at his hand, I told him the first tale that came into my head."
"If you lied," growled Ayub, putting his hand on his sword-hilt, "your deeds spoke otherwise. If your men were not thieves, I'm a monk."
John of Kudak let fall the reins of his horse and frowned. Among the mujiks and sailors of Kudak a sudden impulse of anger burst into words. They hated and feared the pirates, these men of the town. Every merchant had lost goods at their hands, and every river-man had kindred slain. And their anger was directed against Varan.
At first it was merely a gust of temper that passed through the watchers. They did not know Ayub, nor did they greatly care whether he lied or not; but Varan, the lieutenant of the governor, had been harsh. He had put honest people in the stocks for venturing near the rafts on which the bodies of slain criminals floated down the river; he had given peasants to the rack and the bastinado for failure to pay the fire tax; and no one knew what business he had been about, lurking along the banks of the Dnieper. It rejoiced them to see Varan bound, and if he were, truly, in league with the pirates, the townspeople would like to tear him to pieces with their hands.
They did not dare to speak openly, for the starosta was lord of their souls and property. But John of Kudak was aware of their anger, and he let fall the reins of his horse, placing his hands on his belt.
"Lieutenant Varan," his clear voice rang out, "I gave no order to hold up the Cossacks' boat. Your place was here, at Khor, with your men. Too often have you gone pilfering. I have kept your reckoning."
The face of Varan changed, and his mouth hardened. The swagger fell away from him.
"Excellency, a word with you, apart from these cattle—"
"Serene, mighty governor," broke in Sigismund significantly, "it is time I spoke." He hesitated, and as John of Kudak gave assent by silence, went on with more assurance. "This officer brought to my house of business, certain goods taken from the river-traders. He asked a price for his wares, first swearing me to secrecy. But if he is working with the pirates—"
"Excellency," cried one of the burlaks who had come up from the galley, "grant me life, if I add my word. This officer sent men to our village, to take from us the silver we gleaned from our last catch of sturgeon, sold in Kiev—"
"He shot down my son, saying that the lad was spying upon him—"
"If he is the Lord of the River—"
"He sold my girl to the Moslems, pretending that such was the law, when my hut was bare of aught to pay the tithes he demanded in your name, O most worthy starosta!"
As if the growing rage of the people were a storm arisen in a clear sky, Varan seemed shaken. His eyes wavered and he tried to throw himself on his knees, to touch the governor's hand.
"Silence!" cried John of Kudak, rising in his stirrups. "No man of mine can play the criminal and wear my livery. Lieutenant Varan, I release you from my service!"
His hands rose from his waist, and in each of them gleamed a long pistol drawn from his belt. Thrusting forward the iron barrels, almost into the white face of the officer, he pulled the triggers. Smoke swirled many feet behind Varan, and through the white cloud his body was seen to whirl about and fall to the earth, with both eyes shot out and its skull shattered.
So suddenly had Varan died that the onlookers were taken by surprise. They watched, without a word, while the starosta quietly wiped from his fingers the powder stains from the priming pans of the pistols. A moment more and the captain of the German mercenaries muttered something by way of warning.
Then was heard the tread of horses on the grass outside the breastwork.
"A dog would not do that."
This was Demid. The young Cossack had approached from the gate of Khor unnoticed in the excitement except by the musketeers. These last, perceiving that his sword was in its sheath and that beside him rode the princess Ileana, had permitted him to pass between their files.
Now he reined in beside Ayub, while Ileana edged her pony to one side, her eyes searching the crowd of men.
"So, my cockerel," observed John of Kudak, "you have come to give yourself up!"
"I came, starosta, to make report to my chief. And the princess, to welcome him to Khor." Demid glanced down at the body of Varan, the bound hands clasped convulsively. "As God lives, that was a coward's act. Varan served you well, and kept faith with you. Since you have slain him I will say what perchance you feared his lips would tell."
He glanced at the koshevoi who stood a little apart, leaning on his baton. The chieftain nodded. John of Kudak studied the Cossacks with lifted brows, and, instead of answering, handed his pistols to a servant to charge and prime.
"Father," said Demid to his commander, "on the river we met with a float wherein were hung many bodies. These were branded pirates, condemned by the starosta. Yet their faces, twisted in death, did not bear the look of desperate men. One was a young noble, Prince Michael of Khor. Dying, he gave me a word for the princess, that he should be avenged."
Again the koshevoi nodded.
"We searched the bank of the Dnieper," went on the warrior, "and there was not a trace of the river-thieves, save the rumor of a light shown in Kudak t
ower before a vessel was attacked. Nor did any of the crews survive, to tell how they were beset."
He turned swiftly on the throng of townsmen that pressed close to his horse.
"O blind fools. The Lord of the River kept his secret under the seal of death. He disappeared from the river because he walked among you openly; he had eyes to see in the dark because his spies watched for him. When he took a ship, he cut down its crew, and thereafter placed their bodies on the rafts that drifted down the river. Upon the float he put the legend, 'These are river-thieves.'"
Demid gathered up the reins of his pony in his left hand, his right rested on a fold in his girdle near the scimitar hilt.
"So was it with Prince Michael. Journeying down the river from Kiev, with money, his galley was attacked and taken, the young prince plundered and stripped, within the castle of Kudak."
"Have you proof of this, Cossack?" demanded Sigismund.
"The trail of a snake across the road is proof of the passing of the snake, merchant. How otherwise could the pirates vanish, and the bodies of the crews be found in their place? The thieves came from the castle of Kudak, and acted the part of the river guard. They were soldiers. Proof? The powder of the siech was taken, and I can lead you to where it is hidden."
The merchant began to tremble, in the grip of bodily fear. "Ai-a, then will we know the truth. For it was I who bought the powder, during a journey to Kiev, and embarked it on the river. The kegs were all marked with my sign—three circles painted on the bottom, where they are not readily seen. My Armenians—I am of that race—brought the shipment safely to Kudak. Then—"
"It grieves me," said John of Kudak reluctantly, "that Varan should have done this thing."
"And it grieves me, Excellency," responded Demid slowly, "that it was by your command he did it. You are the Lord of the River."
John of Kudak laughed, in his black beard.
"I am appointed starosta of the lower Dnieper, so, perhaps, I am its lord. For the rest, you are mad."
At this point the deep voice of Ayub boomed out.
"By whose command were honest people kept from sight of the faces of the dead souls on the floats?" he demanded. "And, by the ——'s lap-dog, whose pistols slew Varan?"
Sheer amazement held the dozen men of the governor's retinue silent. The Germans looked on impassively, with loaded weapons; the people of the town gaped and stared, uncertain what to believe. It was then that
Ileana spoke, a woman breaking into the conference of men—a thing unheard of.
"The men from below have found out the truth. Aye, my lord of Kudak, they have uncovered your sin. If you had not turned your hand against Khor and its souls, they would not have known it. To hide your tracks, you accused my brother, who was without sin. For that, you will be called to answer."
She paused and looked at him steadily.
Sight of the girl, sitting her horse without fear, before armed soldiers had its effect on the townspeople. Some began to draw near her, others to stare hostilely at the men-at-arms. If that were the truth!
"To whom, child," smiled John of Kudak, "shall I answer? I am your overlord, and these accusations are no more than the gabble of master-less men."
Pride glinted in the eyes of the girl. "Rurik, the bogatyr, my grandsire, did not die at the hands of the Moslems. He stands among us."
She pointed to Where the old koshevoi had been. He was not there now. While she sought for him in the crowd, a fearful howling set up near the cannon. Taut nerves quivered and men swore feelingly as they turned about.
Hermaphron had absented himself from the lines when the assault was formed. Discreetly, he had gone far off. His curiosity aroused by the gathering, and the sight of Ileana, he had drawn nearer. Startled by what he heard, he had lingered in the safest spot he could find, among the stalwart legs of the musketeers.
When Ileana mentioned the name of Rurik, the relic seller glanced about apprehensively. What he beheld behind him made him cry out.
"It has come back. Protect me, excellencies! It has sought me out!"
His pudgy finger pointed toward the cannon. There stood the grayhaired koshevoi, as it happened, his blind side nearest the Greek.
"His eyes are put out, yet he searches for me. By-, he is carrying
the cask with which he was drowned!"
In fact the Cossack chief had taken advantage of the general excitement to walk to the powder kegs, one of which he had lifted to scan its under side. No mark of any kind was visible, but the sight of him so had recalled to Hermaphron the legend of how the Turks had taken the hero from the water with a wine cask in his grasp.
Nor was the effect of Hermaphron's words less potent upon the koshevoi. Letting fall the keg, he strode to the Greek and seized his hair in one powerful hand, whipping out his saber with the other. Placing the edge against the Greek's beard, he roared in anger:
"Dog, and traitor! In years agone you betrayed my ship to the Turks, and my heroes looked on Mother Death. Aye, the Moslems took me before I quit this life, and tortured my limbs. One of my eyes they put out, but the other can see. Where are my kunaks—where are their Cossack swords?"
His one eye gleamed with a fierce satisfaction, and sweat dripped from the plump chin of the Greek.
"Serene, great, munificent lord!" he chattered. "Father of forgiveness—"
The sharp edge of the sword moved and his beard fell to the earth. Her-maphron shrieked.
"I will serve you! Mighty Rurik, I will confess—"
"You played the spy again," snarled the old man. "Upon the prince, my grandson. He was strung up like a slave!"
"I will s——" Overmastering terror swept everything from the mind of Hermaphron but the steel at his throat. "John of Kudak is the Lord of the River—"
The words ended in a whistling choke. The right arm of Rurik pushed forward—forward and sidewise—and the swordblade passed through the throat of the Greek, gritted through his spine. Lifting the severed head high the koshevoi hurled it at the governor.
"Death to you, John of Kudak!"
VII
The Red Sunset of Khor
In a second the deadlock was broken, the calm of the governor gave place to swift action. Sure of his power and the inability of his accusers to bring home their charges, until now, the starosta heard swords drawn on every hand. He knew that a fight to the end must follow, between himself and Rurik.
He held the balance of strength, in weapons and men. Startling as the reappearance of the hero in his home had been, after ten years of following the wars in the siech, when in Khor and Kudak he had been given up as dead, Rurik had only his three Cossacks at hand. John of Kudak was not slow to act.
Snatching his pistols from the servant, he wheeled his horse to take aim at the koshevoi. His agile mind formed plans instantly.
With Rurik and his warriors slain, Khor could be taken by his trained soldiery who were indifferent to such matters as extortion and piracy. The townspeople, once the issue was decided in his favor, would stand in fear of him. He had no overlord to call him to account. He would, in truth, be master of the river, until such time as he was pleased to quit the district with his gains, and go to Moscow.
He brought his weapons to bear on Rurik. But Demid, urging his pony forward, threw himself against the governor. The starosta's horse stumbled and reared. His pistols flashed harmlessly.
"Musketeers, in line!" he cried. "Shoot me these dogs!"
The German captain repeated the order, and the slow-moving mercenaries began to form shoulder to shoulder, and place the rests for their arquebuses in front of them. Meanwhile other things happened.
Ileana had been working her way toward her grandfather. Coming to Rurik's side she dismounted swiftly and tendered him the reins. Thrusting her toward the breastwork, the Cossack leaped into the saddle. Ayub had whistled up his hunters, who put their short swords into play among the governor's following. These being servants and officials they fled the ground with all speed.
This brought the four Cossacks—for the one-armed Colonel was not slow to pull a man from a horse and join the fray—and the Tatars headlong into the half-formed ranks of the musketeers.
Before a shot was fired from the arquebuses—before, in fact the fuses were lighted—the horsemen were wielding their swords. The mercenaries dropped their clumsy firelocks and drew their hangers. But they were disordered, dismayed by the sudden onset of the riders, and they faced the Cossacks, expert swordsmen who asked not, nor gave mercy.
The Germans were veterans of the Flanders fields, disciplined men, and good soldiers, as they proved later in the Thirty Years' War. They fought doggedly, rallying around the governor because he was their master by virtue of money paid and received.
"Pull them from their horses!" shouted John of Kudak. "Use your steel on the ponies!"
The musketeers did, in fact, drag down the one-armed Cossack, and run him through with their blades. It did little good. The three Cossacks at the head of the Tatars fought with the reckless abandon of their race, and they kept their horses in motion. Ayub's long sword cleared a wide space about him, while Demid's lighter scimitar whirled around and over the short blades of the Germans like a thing alive.
Half the mercenaries lay on the ground, while only two of the hunters had fallen. Seeing the fight going against him, John of Kudak jerked around his horse's head and raced through the opening in the breastwork, while the Cossacks were at the other end of the struggling throng of men.
He galloped clear, to meet the youthful ensign of the dragoons who had come up, leaving his squadron in charge of a sergeant, to ask for orders. The starosta kept on, until the two riders gained the line of the waiting cavalry. So short and deadly had been the struggle at the guns that the dragoons only fancied the governor's men were fighting among themselves.
Now John of Kudak bade the ensign form his squadron in double ranks, and to move on the breastwork.