Wolf of the Steppes

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Wolf of the Steppes Page 24

by Harold Lamb


  “Excellency,” ventured Yen Kui Kiang, “new reports from spies have come in. They say that the people of Altur Haiten are talking much of Genghis Khan. Our spies heard mention of his tomb. It may be that they hope for a miracle to save them.” “There are no miracles, Yen Kui Kiang,” said Hang-Hi softly, “and Genghis Khan is dead. Why should I fear a dead man? Yet the tomb—Mir Turek said that was where the treasure of the Tatars was hidden. It may be that one of them found the tomb—”

  “Send me the girl Kerula, who was taken with Mir Turek,” he said after a moment. “She may know something of the treasure. Still, the Tatar dogs cannot eat gold, nor can they melt it into swords.”

  He waited while one of the mandarins of the court of ceremonies read to him the annals of the court, until the girl was brought.

  Kerula, pale but erect, stood at the foot of Hang-Hi's chair, and the Chinese general surveyed her impassively. Women, he thought, were a toy, fashioned for the pleasure of men, unschooled in the higher virtues.

  Yen Kui Kiang interpreted the questions of Hang-Hi. Then he turned to the general humbly.

  “Oh, right hand of Wan Li, Son of Heaven, harken. The girl Kerula says that she has no knowledge of the tomb of Genghis Khan. She was a slave of Mir Turek, and he guarded his secret from her. She says that men who have gone to the tomb died within a short time. And she has a strange thought—”

  “Speak, Yen Kui Kiang,” urged the general as he hesitated. “It is written that Heaven sometimes puts wise thoughts into the heads of children.”

  “It is strange, Excellency. The girl says that Genghis Khan rides over Tatary. That he and his army are to be heard in the night.” Kerula caught the meaning of what the secretary was saying, and raised her head eagerly. Her eyes were swollen from weeping, and her thin hands were clasped over the splendor of her gold-embroidered garment.

  “Aye, lord,” she said quickly, “I have heard the army. It was in the desert. We heard the tumans, Khlit and I, and they were many. Tatar horsemen sang their chant for us, and we heard the greeting to Dawn, by the elephants.”

  “Child's fancies,” murmured Hang-Hi when the other interpreted. “Our travelers have reported that the Tatar herdsmen believe these tales of the desert. If a grown man believes, why should not a child?”

  “She says further,” added Yen Kui Kiang after a moment, “that what she heard was true. For Chinese sentries have reported armed men moving over the plains. The child thinks this is the army of Genghis Khan, coming to slay the Chinese. Then she says that last night she heard again the chant of the Tatar horsemen.”

  Hang-Hi smiled impassively. Well he knew that the Tatars Kerula had heard of were deserters slipping out from the doomed city at night. Many thousands had made their way past the sentries by the west walls, who had orders not to see them—for Hang-Hi wished to allow the number of defenders to dwindle. Since the loss of Chan Kieh Shi he had grown cautious.

  “What was the chant Kerula heard?” he asked indifferently. “Perchance it was the dogs fighting among themselves. Although, so fast do they desert in the night, there are few to quarrel.”

  The cheeks of the girl flushed under the paint. All her fancies had been wound around the Tatar warriors and the great Genghis Khan. Even the beleaguered city and the imprisonment of Khlit had failed to convince the child that she did not live in the time of the Tatar conquerors. So much had the books of Mir Turek done.

  She sang softly, her eyes half-closed:

  “Oh lion of the Teneri, wilt thou come? The devotion of thy people, thy golden palace, the great Hordes of thy nation—all these are awaiting thee.

  “Thy chiefs, thy commanders, thy great kinsfolk, all these are awaiting thy coming in the birth land which is thy stronghold.

  “Thy standard of yaks' tails, thy drum and trumpets in the hands of thy warriors of the Kalkas, the Torgots, the Jun-gar—all are awaiting thee.

  “That is the chant,” she said proudly, “I heard it over the walls last night when the cannon did not growl. It was the same that the riders sang in the desert.”

  Hang-Hi stared at her and shook his head. He looked inquiringly at Yen Kui Kiang.

  “There was some revelry and shouting in the town, Excellency,” declared the secretary. “Assuredly, the child has strange fancies.”

  “It was not fancy, Yen Kui Kiang,” observed Hang-Hi thoughtfully, “when Kerula said that no men returned from the tomb of Genghis Khan. Take her back to the women's quarters and watch her. She may be useful as hostage.”

  He held up his hand for silence as a blast of trumpets sounded from the walls of Altur Haiten.

  “Wait: our enemies sound a parley. Go, Yen Kui Kiang and bring us their message. It may be the surrender of the city.” Hang-Hi and his councilors watched while the eastern gate in front of them swung back to allow the exit of a Tatar party. Yen Kui Kiang with some Chinese officers met them just outside the walls. After the brief conference the Chinese party returned to the silk pavilion, while the Tatars waited.

  The secretary bowed very low before Hang-Hi and his face was troubled with the message he was to deliver.

  “The Tatar dogs are mad, Excellency,” he muttered, “truly their madness is great. They say that they will give us terms. If we yield all our prisoners, and the wealth our army has taken, with our arms and banners, they will allow us to return in safety to the Great Wall. They ask hostages of half our generals. On these terms the Tatars, in their madness, say we can return safely. Otherwise they will give battle.”

  Hang-Hi rose from his throne, and his heavy face flamed in anger. He had not expected this.

  “Hunger must have maddened them, Excellency,” repeated Yen Kui Kiang, prostrating himself, “for they say Genghis Khan has taken command of their army. Their terms, they say, are the terms of Genghis Khan to his enemies—”

  A joyous cry from Kerula interrupted him. The girl was looking eagerly toward the walls of the city, her pale face alight. Hang-Hi motioned her aside, and some soldiers grasped her, thrusting her back into the pavilion.

  “This is out answer,” cried Hang-Hi. He lifted his ivory wand.

  “Sound the assault. Our cannon will answer them.”

  “But, Excellency,” remonstrated Yen Kui Kiang, who was a just man, “the envoys—”

  He was interrupted by the blast of a hundred cannon. The walls of Altur Haiten shook under the impact of giant rocks, which had undermined their base. A volley of musketry followed, and few of the envoys reached the gateway in safety before the iron doors closed.

  Trumpets rang out through the Chinese camp. The regiments of assault were set in motion toward the walls, led by men in armor with scaling ladders and mercenaries with muskets. The attack on Altur Haiten had begun.

  XV

  Hang-Hi sank back in his chair and watched. Yen Kui Kiang took his place at the general's side. The chronicler of the Chinese saw all that took place that day. And the sight was strange. Never had a battle begun as this one did.

  Hang-Hi saw the Chinese ranks advance in good order beyond the breastworks to the filled-in moat. Then, for the first time, he began to wonder. The walls of Altur Haiten, shattered by cannon, were barren of defenders. No arrows or rocks greeted the attackers who climbed to the breaches and planted their scaling ladders without opposition.

  At a signal from one of the generals, rows of men in armor began to mount the scaling ladders. The columns that faced the breaches made their way slowly over the debris. Hang-Hi wondered if the defenders had lost heart. Truly, there could be few in the city, for his sentries had counted many thousand who fled from the place during the last few nights on horseback.

  The Chinese forces mounted scaling ladders to the top of the walls without opposition. Not a shot had been fired. No one had fallen wounded. Men in the breaches were slower, for the Tatars had erected barricades.

  A frown appeared on the smooth brow of Hang-Hi. It seemed as if the city was in his grasp. Yet he wondered at the silence. Suddenly he arose. Me
n on the walls were shouting and running about. The ranks under the walls swayed in confusion. Were the shouts an omen of victory?

  Hang-Hi gripped his ivory wand quickly. His councilors stared, wide-eyed. Slowly, before their eyes, the walls of Altur Haiten began to crumple and fall. They fell not inward, but outward.

  The eastern wall, a section at a time, fell with a sonorous crash. Fell upon the ranks of the attackers, with the men who had gained the top. Hang-Hi saw men leaping desperately into space. The men under the walls crowded back in disorder. A moan sounded with the crash of bricks, the cry of thousands of men in pain. Then the space where the walls had been was covered by a rising cloud of dust and pulverized clay.

  Through this smoke, Hang-Hi could make out giant beams thrusting. He guessed at the means which had toppled the walls on the attackers, after the Chinese cannon had undermined them.

  The moans of the wounded gave place to a shrill battle cry from behind the dust curtain. Hang-Hi saw ranks of Tatars with bared weapons surging forward. As the battle cry mounted the oncoming ranks met the retreating attackers and the blended roar of melee drowned all other sounds.

  Hang-Hi glanced over the scene of conflict. Only a portion of the east walls facing him had fallen. The rest stood. But the sally of the Tatars carried them forward into the breastworks of the Chinese. There the disordered regiments of assault rallied, only to be pushed back further, among the guns and machines. In the dense mass of fighting men it was useless to fire a musket, and the cannon were silent.

  Hang-Hi turned to his aides and began to give orders swiftly.

  Mounted couriers were sent to the other quarters of the camp for reinforcements. Reserve regiments were brought up and thrown into the melee. Chosen men of Leo Tung and the Sung commanders advanced from the junks in the river. The rush of the Tatars was stemmed in the rear of the cannon.

  Then Hang-Hi addressed his generals. It was a stroke of fortune from heaven, he said, that levelled the walls. The Tatars were few and already they were retreating to the city, fighting desperately. The Chinese would be victorious, he said, for there was no longer any obstacle to their capture of Altur Haiten. Surely, the Tatars had become mad. Why otherwise should they speak of Genghis Khan, who was dead?

  When the sun was high at midday Hang-Hi's meal was served in the pavilion and he ate and drank heartily. Messengers had informed him of all that was taking place. The Tatars, they said, were fighting with a courage which they had not previously shown. They spiked the cannon, and thinned the ranks of the musketmen.

  On the other hand, the sally had been by a few thousand, who had retired behind the mounds of brick and clay where the walls had been. A second assault by the Chinese, ordered for the afternoon, could not fail of success.

  In the midst of Hang-Hi's meal came a mounted courier from the west quarter of the camp.

  “Oh, Excellency,” he cried, bowing to the floor of the pavilion, “we have been attacked by mounted Tatars from the plains. They came suddenly, and many were killed. They came, many thousands, from the woods.”

  Other messengers confirmed this. Unexpectedly a strong force of mounted Tatars had appeared and defeated the weakened regiments who were stationed on the west side. These had retreated in confusion to the north and south.

  “Dogs,” snarled the general of Wan Li. “Are you women to run from a few riders? Order the forces on the south and north to hold their ground. My men will be in Altur Haiten in a few hours. Whence came these new foemen?”

  Yen Kui Kiang advanced and bowed.

  “Favored of Heaven,” he said, “they must be some of the deserters returned. They are fighting fiercely, but their number cannot be great. Without doubt they can be easily checked during our assault.”

  But the secretary had not reckoned on the mobility and prowess of the Horde, fighting in their favorite manner, maneuvering on horseback against infantry. Before the assault could be ordered, Hang-Hi learned that a second column of the enemy, stronger than the first, had struck the rear of the Chinese camp to the north and broken the ranks of the besiegers. Yen Kui Kiang declared that the latter were falling back in orderly manner on the masses of troops to the east, but the quick eyes of Hang-Hi saw crowds of his men pouring from the north side in rout.

  By midafternoon the situation of the Chinese had not improved. They held two of the four sides of the city—the east and south. More than sixty thousand men had fallen in the destruction of the walls and the defeat by the cavalry. Hang-Hi found that the river at his rear, which had served as a means of communication from China, hindered movements of his troops and menaced him if he should retreat further.

  Assembling his generals, Hang-Hi ordered the veteran Leo Tung men to take the first ranks on the east, facing the cavalry, between the town and the river, and the legions of the Sung generals to hold the southern camp. The other troops he had drawn up for the assault of the city he ordered to the breastworks facing the demolished walls.

  The southern camp which had escaped attack he ordered to be watchful. This portion of his troops faced both the city and the plains, without the support of the river. Hang-Hi was thankful in his heart that the Tatar cavalry had drawn off in the afternoon. His men feared the Tatars on horseback.

  He wished vainly for Chan Kieh Shi. As evening fell he heard the chant of the defenders inside the walls. Whence had came the army of mounted men? They seemed to have sprung from the plains—Chakars and Tchoros, and even Kallmarks from the horde which had deserted early in the siege. And messengers brought him word that they had seen the standard of Genghis Khan among the Kallmarks.

  The signal for the final assault of Altur Haiten was never given.

  XVI

  Kerula had taken refuge soon after the battle began in the household pagoda of Hang-Hi with the other women. Here she took her place at one of the windows looking toward the south, listening with all her ears to the reports that were brought to the pagoda.

  Night had fallen and she could not see the flare of the flame cauldrons, or the flash of cannon. The camp of the Chinese seemed thronged with soldiers in confusion who passed hither and thither with torches, and red lanterns. Mounted men fought to get through the throngs, trampling the infantry. Moaning of the wounded could be heard. Kerula's thoughts were busy as she watched.

  She had heard of the Tatar army that attacked from the plains. The Chinese had told wild tales of the fierceness and daring of the riders. Kerula pressed her hands together and trembled with joy. She had no doubt that this army was the Horde of Genghis Khan that she had heard in the desert. Did not the messengers say they had seen the yaks'-tails banner and heard the name of the Mighty Manslayer shouted? She had told this to the women and they had cried out in fear, leaving her alone as one accursed. Kerula was glad of this.

  She listened intently at the window. She had caught the distant roar of battle in the dark. This time, however, it came from the south, in a new quarter. The sounds came nearer instead of receding. Kerula leaned far out and listened.

  Truly, a great battle was being fought, unknown to the girl. Scarcely had nightfall come when the Chinese regiments to the south had been struck in the rear by successive phalanxes of Tatar horsemen that broke their ranks and threw them into confusion.

  For the second time the army of the plains had appeared, led by the banner of yaks' tails, and chanting their war song. These were not the warriors who had waited for a year behind the walls of Altur Haiten. Who were they and whence had they come?

  Messages began to reach the women's quarters. A rumor said that the Sung generals had been captured or killed, with most of their men. Another reported that a myriad Tatars were attacking in the dark. Genghis Khan had been seen riding at the head of his men, aided by demons who gave no quarter.

  The confusion in the streets below Kerula grew worse. Men shouted that Altur Haiten was empty of defenders—that the Tatars were all in the plains. Reinforcements hurrying to the south lost their way in the dark and were scattered by fugiti
ve regiments.

  A mandarin in a torn robe ran into the hall of the pagoda and ordered the women to get ready to take refuge in the junks.

  “A million devils have come out of the plains,” he cried, “and our doctors are pronouncing incantations to ward them off. Hang-Hi has ordered all his household to the boats.”

  A wail greeted this, which grew as the women surged toward the doors in a panic. Kerula was caught in the crowd and thrust through the gate of the pagoda into the street.

  She could see her way now, for buildings in the camp were in flames some distance away. Beside the women hurried soldiers without arms. She saw one or two of the helmeted Leo Tung warriors strive to push back the mob.

  “Fools and dogs!” growled one sturdy warrior. “Hang-Hi holds the southern camp with one hundred thousand men. The banner-men of Leo Tung are coming to aid him. There is no battle, save on the south. Blind, and without courage!”

  But the women pushed past him, screaming and calling:

  “The junks! We were told to go to the junks. There we will be safe!”

  As often happens, the confusion of the Chinese camp was heightened by the frantic women, and their outcry caused further panic at a time when the Leo Tung warriors who were trying to win through the mob of routed soldiers, prisoners, camp followers, and women, might have restored order. It was an evil hour for Hang-Hi that he left his pavilion to go to the front, with great bravery. In his absence the terror of the unknown gripped the camp.

  “The junks!” a fleeing soldier showed. “We shall be safe there.”

  The spear of a Leo Tung pierced his chest but other voices took up the cry:

  “The junks! The camp is lost.”

  The cry spread through the camp, and the crowds began to push toward the river front, carrying with them many of the Leo Tung men.

  Kerula cast about for a shelter, for she did not wish to be carried to the river. Rather she hoped to be picked up by some of the Tatars who she knew were coming. An open archway invited her and she slipped inside, to find herself in the empty Hall of Judgment.

 

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