Riders of the Steppes

by Harold Lamb

  "You are mistaken, Ayub," put in another Cossack, who was mild of speech and had once been a noble in Kiev. "Such swords once carved out an empire."

  "Then the men of that empire must have been dwarfs." Ayub himself towered close to seven feet and carried a five-foot broadsword.

  "They were Greeks, and the bandura players of Asia call their chieftain Iskander. The Latin priests say that he was Alexander."

  "May the dogs bite you, Ivashko! Don't you know that Greeks could never conquer anything? A Jew or an Armenian may be trusted sometimes, but Greeks will sell even their wives."

  "Just the same, Ayub," observed another warrior, "when I was a slave on a Turkish galley I saw columns like these in the temples of the Greeks that Turks used for bathhouses."

  "Two thousand years ago," went on Ivashko, "the Greeks were otherwise. They raided boldly into Asia."

  "Then," assented Demid, "their ataman Alexander must have been a splendid leader—if his enemies remembered his name for two thousand years."

  "Aye," nodded Ayub admiringly, "that was a notable raid."

  They made camp by the pool in the limestone cliffs, the warriors sleeping under the wagons or under their svitzas propped up on the lances. And Demid, who had talked with Khlit, announced in the evening that they would leave the wagon train in the camp by Alexander's pillars of victory.

  The oxen were at the end of their strength and here was water and some grass. Lame and sickly ponies were also cut out of the herd, and Goloto with forty warriors was named to guard the tabor until the Cossacks returned. Since leaving the Blue Sea they had headed nearly due south and caravans had been seen on the skyline, and the villages were becoming thicker. Urgench could not lie many days' ride to the south, and if they were to escape observation they could not go on with the ox-carts. The warriors, well pleased with the change in affairs, selected the best of the horses and loaded fifty others with powder, barley and dried meat.

  At sunset they set out, and Demid gave the experienced Goloto some wise advice. "Draw the wagons in a square, not on the skyline but in a place that can be defended. Throw out pickets and do not go after caravans, because you will break your teeth on them in this place. If you do not see us in a month, take the best horses and strike back to the Jaick."

  "At command!" responded Goloto sadly, because he was to be left behind, and the separation from his brothers was not to his liking.

  "I have given you forty good men and firelocks. Keep the wagon train safe."

  "You will find it in readiness. Go with God!"

  "With God!" repeated the Cossacks who had lingered to ride with the ataman.

  They took leave of one another and looked back more than once at the familiar mass of horned oxen, and the gray wagons arranged in a solid breastwork about the water; then they spurred on, going swiftly now into the darkness before moonrise, for in this last dash into a hostile land speed was all-important.

  At the end of the plain the sun was setting, and the sands gleamed yellow. Golden, too, was the dried bed of a great river sunk between purple rock ridges. It was like the sloughed skin of a snake, lying dry and brittle and motionless upon the plain. And yellow were the domes and minarets of the city that crouched behind a high wall on the bank of the inanimate river.

  Apart from the spear-like pinnacles of the mosques but within the wall projected the squat towers of a castle, built in the age when rock-casting machines and naphtha-throwers were to be feared in a siege. One by one stars shimmered forth in the purple haze above the towers. No men were to be seen on the walls or on the breast of the plain, but, as the sun touched the horizon, an impalpable veil seemed to rise from the ground and hang about the glowing domes.

  Such was Urgench in the year of Bars, the Leopard, by the Tatar calendar.

  The yellow haze was no more than the last level rays of sunset striking upon the particles of dust in the air, and the distance from the Cossacks to the wall was too great to permit them to see human figures, but the warriors were silent as they gazed on the desolation of the plain and the gleaming city behind the veil in the air.

  They—the advance under Makshim and the leaders—were resting in the mouth of a ravine to the northwest of Urgench. On their left hand, an hour's ride, the riverbed wound toward the city; on their right the golden sands stretched into the eye of the sinking sun. Most of them were in shirtsleeves or stripped to the waist and their bodies shone red in the afterglow, so that even their eyes, tortured by the heat and the glare of the desert floor, were as scarlet as blood. So, too, was the head of the white falcon on the standard in Ayub's scarred fist.

  Some of the warriors touched the small crosses on the hilts of their sabers, because Urgench, near sunset, appeared to be one of the substance-less cities that had taken form more than once when they were coming down over the salt plains, and which they fancied were the creation of Moslem magicians to lead travelers or enemies astray.

  Others fell to questioning Kirdy, who had been stationed by the standard, and Ayub after he had yielded the command of the advance to Makshim.

  "That is Urgench," he said stoutly. "I know the castle towers well. It is strong—the castle of the khan."

  "But we see no men," put in another ouchar. "Here are no sheep herders driving their flocks toward that gate—no horses grazing."

  Ayub, who had been struck by the same thing, mocked at the youthful warrior instantly, saying that at sundown the Moslems always gathered within walls to wash their hands and bow down to their prophet.

  "That is true," assented Kirdy, "yet there is another reason. Here the desert reaches to the city wall; on the other three sides there are caravan roads and fruit trees, villages and herds.

  Demid, who had been listening, turned his head and spoke quietly. "How high is the outer wall, ouchar?"

  "Two lance lengths, father."

  "And this gate, is it closed at night? Guarded?"

  "The Bab el Mirza, the Gate of the Prince, is not closed at night because it faces the desert from which no enemies have come before now. But it is guarded because the khan is always at war with his brothers or the Tatars of the north or the Persians of the south."

  "How strong is the guard?"

  "Perhaps one ten, perhaps two. If Arap Muhammad Khan should be in Urgench with his riders there might be no more than one watcher, father."

  The day before their scouts had brought in a few Moslem merchants, and these had sworn that the khan and his men were down the river. If the Turkoman horde had returned to the city Demid knew that his Cossacks might enter Urgench but they would never leave it alive. It was impossible to send spies into the city, or to scout near the walls. Before they could reach the vicinity the full moon would be up and they would be seen. They must make the attack blindly and trust to their luck for the rest.

  But Demid saw to it that they made use of every advantage and he pondered a trick to play on the Turkomans. A daring swordsman, utterly reckless in battle, he was cautious in planning action and Kirdy knew that this forethought of their leader had brought them safely beyond the Blue Sea. He watched Demid eagerly, drinking in every slow-spoken word.

  First the ataman asked the opinion of the squadron leaders. And both Ivan Aglau and Makshim agreed that they would be seen when they were a half mile distant from the gate.

  "Nay," Demid said, "we can move down the riverbed to within musket shot unseen."

  The Cossacks nodded ready assent, except for one who pointed out that the river bank was three musket shots from the gate, which could be closed before they reached it. Once the gates of Urgench were shut their chance was lost, because they had no cannon to batter the wall, nor could they hope to starve out the inhabitants because Arap Muhammad Khan would be up in a week.

  "Well said," agreed Demid. "What does the Wolf say—he who has clawed open many a wall before now?"

  "Ataman," grumbled Khlit, "the dogs will see us in any case. Send men openly, therefore, but only a few—enough to hold the gate until the squ
adrons come up from the river."

  "Good!" cried Demid. "If the Turkomans had wind of us, their riders would have been out on the plain. Now listen, my brothers, to the plan. Ivan Aglau will take his own squadron of lancers and the men of Golo-to's squadron into the riverbed. Ride swiftly—the footing will be troublesome—and assemble under the bank nearest the wall by the first hour of the morning. The shadows will be deep at that time. When you hear a wolf howl thrice, rush your horses up and take possession of the gate."

  "Aye," grunted Ivan Aglau, well pleased with his task.

  "Khlit, you can speak with the dogs of Turkomans. Take five pack horses, well loaded, and a ten of warriors. When you are a mile from the gate dismount and walk forward with the pack animals. Hide your weapons until you are within reach of the Moslems then give the signal and hold the gate until Ivan Aglau comes up."

  The old Cossack nodded understanding, and he asked only that Kirdy be allowed to go with him to see how such things were done.

  "Aye," grunted Ayub who was ruffled because he had not been consulted. "I will take my sablianka—my little sword—and go before you." He patted the long hilt of his five-foot blade, and handed the standard to another Cossack. "Then all you will have to do is to howl like the wolf you are."

  In a moment the two squadrons of lancers were moving past them and trotting out of the ravine, where Kirdy turned his pony to go back for the pack animals. As he did so he looked swiftly sidewise and his hand went to his saber hilt. Out of the near darkness in the ravine two eyes glared at him-two eyes that were almost luminous.

  Bending forward, he peered at two shadows that stood against the black wall of rock, and made out that the eyes belonged to the golden eagle and that Shamaki was squatting among the boulders. The Tatar slave had volunteered to come with the Cossacks although his fellows had stayed at the wagon train. Khlit had taken a fancy to the eagle and Shamaki may have hoped for another chance to let it out after antelope.

  So intent was he on the business in hand, Kirdy did not reflect until an hour afterward that Shamaki had no right to be at the head of the column where the leaders were talking.

  The forms of the men in front of him were black and silver. A bell clanked on the neck of the leading pack horse, and Kirdy paced in time to it. At Khlit's suggestion the Cossacks of the advance party had loosened their girdles, letting the long sheepskin coats hang over the weapons on their hips. At the head of them Ayub's bulk was unmistakable—the Zaporogian strode on as if a thousand spears and not a dozen shambling tatterdemalions were at his back. His long sword remained where he always carried it, strapped to his shoulder so that only the hilt was visible from the front.

  For once Ayub walked in silence and the others had hard work to keep up with him. Kirdy was quivering with excitement, and his ears were strained to catch the neigh of the horse from the riverbed close at hand, or a shout from the group of men who watched their approach in the open gate. But the warrior beside him hummed carelessly—

  Left—right!

  We know you, Muscovite!

  Until Khlit growled a warning, and the song ceased. Ayub swore under his breath and Kirdy, who had been peering at the black shapes outlined against the white wall, saw that the Turkomans had prepared a welcome for travelers. A score of human heads looked down at the Cossacks from empty eye sockets. The heads had dark curling hair and beards and were set up on spear points on either side the gate.

  Kirdy counted the men who lounged among the spearsmen who wore turbans bound around conical helmets and striped khalats. Seven—twelve— twenty in all. Since they were Turkomans, masters of the desert, they would be armed.

  A clear voice greeted the wayfarers harshly. "Dogs of Armenians— what have you on the horses?"

  "Koumbouzi—a gift for thee!" responded Khlit at once.

  "Art weary of carrying thy nose, graybeard?" gibed another of the guards. "Then you are well come to the Bab el Mirza! Look!"

  He pointed up at the dark heads on the spears and Kirdy saw that these trophies of a Turkoman raid had had the noses and ears cut off.

  "Thou wilt rest with thy brothers, O Armenian!"

  A roar from Ayub answered him. "It is you, dog-faiths, who will rest on spears and not us."

  The Moslems who had been lounging in the sand sprang up, grasping at their weapons. In all their raids upon the Armenian villages no man had spoken to them in this fashion, and now they heard, from the clump of dark figures running toward them, a wolf's howl repeated thrice. Suspicion stirred in them and flamed high when they saw the newcomers pull sabers from beneath long coats.

  They were surprised that these dozen should run at them, but—experienced warriors—they wasted no breath in shouting, and closed in on the Cossacks with a rush. Steel blades clanged and the Cossack beside Kirdy went down, groaning, his skull laid open by a blow from a razor-edged scimitar. The bearded Turkoman who had slain him sprang into the air, his blade whistling down at Kirdy.

  The boy no longer quivered; the breath came evenly between his teeth and his whole body tingled with exhilaration. Instead of planting his feet and striking with all his strength like the other Cossacks, he met the leap of the Turkoman by throwing himself swiftly to the right. Before the descending arc of steel could follow him, his own sword flicked up— a snap of the wrist that passed the curved edge of his scimitar through the man's side under the ribs.

  The Turkoman plunged full length into the sand, and Kirdy snatched up the sword that fell from his nerveless hand. Warding a cut from another Moslem with his new weapon, he plunged the point of his curved saber beneath the man's breastbone and twisted it back and down. The bearded warrior screamed once into his face and was dead before he fell to the earth.

  Kirdy had learned swordsmanship in the skirmishes of the tribes, where death hovers close and no cry for quarter is heard. He made no feints, wasted no single motion, and to his mastery of the edged scimitar he had added thrusts with the point, taught him by Khlit. In the sword dance of the Afghans he had learned to wield two blades at once, and when on foot he liked to pick up another weapon if possible.

  Now, gliding up to a second foeman, his weapons shone above his head— one silver in the moonlight, the other darkly gleaming. And these curved blades seemed no more than to flicker in the air before the Turkoman sank to his knees.

  Ayub went about matters differently. Grasping his heavy straight sword in both hands he swung it in circles as another man might wield a broomstick. When he cut at a man, leather shields crumpled and bones snapped asunder. About these two swordsmen the hard-pressed Cossacks rallied with their war cry—

  "Ou-ha-aa!"

  But other Moslems were running up to the gate, pushing shut the two heavy doors in spite of the fact that their companions fought outside. Khlit, glancing over his shoulder, lifted his deep voice in a shout.

  "Aside, brothers! Aside!"

  The Cossacks heard the pelting of hoofs behind them and sprang out of the way, while the Turkomans hesitated, and ran back toward the gate. The foremost riders of Ivan Aglau's squadron struck them as they were trying to push through the closing barriers. More ponies hurtled up, to thrust flank and shoulder against the gates and under the weight of the horses the portals swung back. Fleeing before gleaming lance tips the Moslems darted into the nearest alleys and more Cossacks trotted through the Bab el Mirza, the last comers drawing rein to guard the gate and mock Ayub.

  "Baba—old woman! Your tongue wags at both ends, it does. We heard you bellow like a buffalo, and it's ——'s mercy if Arap Muhammad Khan did not hear you, off there in Khiva."

  "If the ataman doesn't pickle you, tongue and all, we'll make a mute of you."

  But the big Zaporogian, who had been slashed across the arm, was good-humored again, and newcomers stopped to gaze at the rows of heads that lined the gateway, until Demid came up with the standard and the three squadrons at a hard trot. He had brought with him the horses turned loose by Khlit's party, and Kirdy climbed into the saddle of th
e piebald pony.

  Sparing no more than a glance at the heads of the Armenians, he gave orders swiftly.

  "Ivashko, fall out with fifty firelocks. Close and keep this gate. Let no one out. You"—he pointed out an essaul—"and you do likewise at the other gates. Makshim, take your squadron to the market place with the pack animals and hold it in reserve. Take the standard with you. One squadron with me to the castle—the rest clear the streets."

  In bunches of twenty the lancers galloped off into the darkness, shouting and spurring their horses at the shadows that fled before them and

  Demid swore under his breath. "They bay like dogs. The castle will be closed against us. Sably van—draw sabers! Trot!"

  And in fact they found the one gate of the castle shut and barred. The squadron dismounted, ladders were brought and the Cossacks opened fire with matchlocks while the ladders were set in the dry ditch and warriors started to climb, holding the sabers over their heads to protect them against cuts.

  They could not defend themselves against arrows that flicked down from the crenellated battlement and the tall forms of the Cossacks were seen dropping into the ditch. In the moonlight few of the bullets from the matchlocks struck the defenders of the wall, who were protected by helmets and mail.

  "Cut—slash!" the warriors roared, crowding around the foot of the ladders, striving for a chance to get on the rungs. Ivan Aglau, the silent, led one band to a new spot and raised up a broad ladder, being the first to run up it.

  No arrows struck him, but the men clustered below saw a glow appear on the battlement and an instant later an iron pot was tossed over, on the heads of the Cossacks. From this pot poured forth, smoking and gleaming, molten metal that overwhelmed the assailants as dry leaves are brushed before a torrent.

  Others ran back to the ladder, while two ouchars dragged forth the dying Ivan Aglau. The iron had dropped through his cap, scarifying skull and breast and his eyes rolled in agony; but this man who had lived with firmly closed lips gave forth no moan when life was leaving him.