Wolf of the Steppes

by Harold Lamb

  He had been that way before, and with a flash of memory he swerved into a gateway that led him to a flight of steps. Up these he climbed, with the watchful Tatar at his heels. The steps led to a jade and stone gateway of the central Buddhist temple.

  A cry from below told him that the pursuers had caught sight of them from the street. Chagan gave a curse, but Khlit drew him silently into the temple. It was deserted. The long hall that led to the giant bronze figure of Buddha was empty of worshipers. There was no place of concealment in the hall, and Khlit, perforce, ran to the figure of the cross-legged god.

  At the very feet of the image stretched a white form. One of the priests had been slain in his sanctuary, for a red line blurred the white of the robe from throat to waist. Khlit wasted no time, but sought along the wall for the doors he knew must be there, opening into the priests' apartments. A silken curtain covered the wall, but when Chagan thrust at it with his sword, it yielded and they pushed under it, finding themselves in an ebony and lacquer chamber, lighted by red lanterns.

  A white robe flitted away down a passage that led from the priests' chamber and Khlit sprang after it, panting with the effort he was making. The fleeing priest, who must have imagined that death stalked him, led them down the passage and through a narrow door out onto a terrace on the farther side of the building.

  The wretched man had flung himself imploringly on the ground before them. Khlit stepped over his prostrate form, and Chagan followed him, bestowing a hearty kick on the priest as he did so. They were now in a cherry garden belonging to the temple. A few minutes more and they had reached the edge of the garden, unseen by their pursuers, who had stopped to slay the priest.

  A stone wall confronted them, but this problem Chagan easily solved. Sheathing his sword, the Tatar swung himself up to the summit of the wall. Reaching down a powerful hand, he drew Khlit beside him. They dropped to the farther side and walked down the alley in which they found themselves.

  It opened out into a wide square filled with moving bands of soldiers. Khlit realized that hesitation would mean disaster for them. Motioning to Chagan to follow, he stepped out among the Chinese. The latter, seeing their crimson swords, took no further notice of them. When they had put a safe distance between them and the temple garden, Khlit halted, leaning on his sword to recover breath.

  He saw that they stood in a square one side of which was bordered by the city wall. The scene was outlined by flames behind them, and Khlit made out a tower opposite, rising against the wall and above it to a considerable height.

  The Chinese around them were discharging arrows at the summit of the tower. Others were crowding around the door, which was already nearly blocked with dead. On the summit of the tower were several defenders who were replying to the arrows of the besiegers. Khlit could see the helmets of the men on the tower appear at the edge of the rampart to let fly an arrow and then draw back. They had already taken heavy toll of the attackers.

  Chagan, who had been scanning the tower closely, pointed up at it.

  “The Tower of the Five Falcons, master,” he whispered. “I see the archer, Arslan, up there. His men shoot like devils. We had best go elsewhere or our friend Arslan will settle his score with me with one of his shafts.”

  The streets leading from the square were nearly deserted by the Holangs, and the two were able to avoid wandering bands of Li Jusong's men. Khlit traced his way back to the merchants' quarter, and eventually they came to the stable where their horses had been left. The beasts were gone.

  Chagan flung himself down on a heap of straw with an oath and Khlit seated himself beside the sword-bearer. Drawing bread and meat from a wallet at his belt, the Cossack began to eat calmly, sharing his food with Chagan. Khlit was too old a warrior to be disturbed by the slaughter that was going on around them throughout the city of Shankiang.

  “We will wait here until daylight,” he told Chagan. “Tomorrow we may find a place in the ranks of Li Jusong.”

  Chagan paused in the act of swallowing a mouthful of meat and stared at his companion curiously. He started to speak, then thought better of it. But for the remainder of the night, which was hideous with the sound of slaying and pillage, he kept silence. More than once Khlit found the giant looking at him moodily.

  When the sun was well up the two went out of the stable. Stopping only to take a long drink at the well in the yard, they returned to the streets of the stricken city. Quiet prevailed. Nothing was to be seen save the bodies that filled the gutters and the doorways of houses. Smoke rose densely from several quarters of the town.

  The quiet did not deceive Khlit. He had no need to ask Chagan to know that the sack of Shankiang was not ended; that it had only begun.

  VIII

  On turning into one of the main streets, lined with shopkeepers' painted signs, Khlit and Chagan came face to face with a procession of Holang prisoners. They were marching in single file, escorted by a party of Han men, and were tied together by a long rope.

  “Like a string of pearls,” Chagan said.

  The party was led by an officer of great height and imposing appearance. This man halted the procession as Khlit and Chagan came abreast him, and scanned them closely. Chagan returned his gaze with an impudent stare. Khlit essayed a word of greeting in the Uigur tongue to which the officer did not reply.

  “What is your name and business, graybeard?” the Chinese asked finally. “You wear strange clothes.”

  “A traveling chess player, sir,” responded Khlit quickly, “with my servant. Can you direct us to Li Jusong?”

  “The general of the Son of Heaven is out inspecting the streets, Uigur,” answered the officer. “He would welcome you if you are truly a chess player, for the game is his distinguished delight. Your servant is big of bone. I am weary of killing these swine. We will have some sport. Len Shi!”

  He struck his fan sharply against his leg, and a giant Chinaman made his appearance from among the troops with a low bow. The officer spoke to him sharply and gave a command to his men. Two of them went into a shop and returned with a chair in which he seated himself. Two others brought a square silk of the width of five paces which they spread in the street. The prisoners watched apathetically. “Your man is a wrestler,” said the officer to Khlit. “Len Shi is also a wrestler, a rascal of strength and skill. We will see which is the better man.”

  When Khlit interpreted this to Chagan, who did not understand the Uigur tongue, the Tatar cast a calculating glance at Len Shi. Big as Chagan was, the Chinaman was broader at the shoulders and heavier by fifty pounds. When Len Shi had doffed his quilted coat and undertunic, two massive arms showed, topped by a bull neck.

  Chagan followed the example of his adversary promptly. He seemed no whit afraid, although he wore a scowl.

  “I know not this wrestling sport,” he whispered to Khlit as he stripped off his shirt. “But there is no man in China who can overmatch me at handgrips. Let this fat bullock look to his back, for I will break it for him.”

  Khlit watched his comrade with a troubled glance. Chagan was as powerful a man as he had ever seen, but Len Shi was weightier and moved with assurance, like one who had no doubt of his skill. Strong as the Tatar was, he might be no match for the Chinaman at the latter's game.

  The Cossack took the two-handed sword from Chagan, allowing no one else to touch it, in spite of the fact that two of the soldiers offered readily to do so. The rest crowded around the silk square, talking eagerly with Len Shi, who made no response, but stared at Chagan, hands on his knees and slant eyes narrowed.

  Khlit watched the two men as they faced each other on the silk, and glanced at the bland countenance of the officer. The latter showed no sign of interest in the bout, but Khlit felt that he had arranged it with a purpose.

  The next instant the two wrestlers had locked arms and were swaying over the square. Len Shi's great face turned mottled with the effort he was making, and he roared with anger. Chagan made no sound, foiling the attempts of his adversary to
trip him to the ground, where Len Shi's greater weight would tell.

  The soldiers crowded close to the two men, whose hot breaths rose in vapor through the cold air. The officer stroked his fan gently. Apparently he was not interested in the wrestlers, but Khlit saw that he watched them keenly. Len Shi had shifted his first hold to one more to his satisfaction, about the waist of Chagan, who had locked the other's head in his mighty arms.

  Len Shi, however, was a master of his craft. Twisting his head free from Chagan's grip, he swung the Tatar free of the ground.

  Following up his advantage, he put forth his strength and tossed Chagan clear of the silk. The Tatar fell heavily on his back. A shout went up from the soldiers.

  Chagan, however, was on his feet in an instant, snarling with rage. He sprang at Len Shi, only to be caught by the waist in the same grip that had thrown him off his feet before. Chagan, however, was not one to be tricked twice in the same manner.

  As before, Len Shi swung the sword-bearer from his feet as if he had been a child. Khlit wondered at the smooth skill of the wrestler who could handle Chagan in this manner. Blood was running from the latter's mouth, for the fall had been a heavy one. Len Shi's wide chest was panting from his efforts and he was shouting shrilly in triumph.

  Khlit saw Len Shi turn with the quickness of a cat and catch Chagan on his back. The Tatar was now athwart his opponent's broad shoulders, behind his neck in a horizontal position, with Len Shi's arms grasping his legs on one side and his neck on the other.

  “See,” said the officer to Khlit, “your man is like a trussed sheep. He is bleeding already, and he is helpless. Len Shi will presently cast him down and fall upon him. I have seen a dozen men crippled in this fashion. Len Shi is a master wrestler.”

  In truth, Chagan's arms were fumbling about Len Shi's bulllike head in seeming helplessness. Slowly the Chinaman began to turn with his burden as if to gain momentum for the effort that would hurl Chagan to the earth. The Tatar, however, was watching every move of his adversary.

  With a shout Len Shi whirled. His arm about Chagan's legs shifted to the latter's neck with lightning quickness. His muscles bulged as he strained for the throw. At the same instant Khlit saw Chagan fling both arms under Len Shi's chin. As the latter flung the Tatar from him, Chagan's powerful arms twisted Len Shi's chin to one side.

  Chagan flew through the air, wrenched loose from his hold. Len Shi had thrown his foe. But Chagan had caught Len Shi's head, so that his full weight had jerked upon the Chinaman's spine. Len Shi's neck was broken.

  “A clever trick, Uigur,” the officer smiled blandly. “Len Shi has wrestled his last bout. But it was a Tatar trick. I suspected you and your follower. It will not be long before Len Shi is avenged.”

  The officer called sharply to his men, who were staring in wonder at the lifeless form of their comrade. Khlit had not been unprepared for such a move. He cast a quick glance around. They were in the middle of the street. The prisoners with the guard filled the street at one end. From the other side a group of horsemen were advancing. Escape by either end was cut off.

  The doors of nearby buildings stood open, after the pillage of the night before. It might have been possible for Khlit to have gained one of the doorways while the soldiers were advancing on him. But Chagan was still on his knees, bleeding and dizzy from his fall and ignorant of the discovery of the officer. Khlit would not leave him.

  Stepping to the side of the Tatar, he pulled him roughly to his feet and thrust the great sword into his hand.

  “Stand, Chagan,” he cried, “we are attacked!”

  The Tatar grasped his weapon in both sinewy hands. But he was reeling from fatigue and dizziness. Khlit placed his back to Chagan and waited the onset of the Chinese with drawn sword. A grim smile twisted his white mustache. Truly, the odds were heavy. Twoscore against an old man and a tired warrior. Chagan, too, was naked of all protection, having doffed his quilted coat to wrestle. They had been cleverly tricked by the Chinese officer.

  Khlit was facing the foot soldiers, who were advancing from the prisoners. Chagan was facing the horsemen, who had pulled up barely in time to keep from running them down. He saw that the men in front of him spread out to surround Chagan and himself. This done, they waited.

  Khlit gripped his sword impatiently. He would have preferred a quick onset to this. Then he caught sight of the Chinese officer and caught his breath in surprise. The man was down on his knees in the street, with his head bowed nearly to the earth.

  Khlit cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Directly in front of Chagan was a horseman. His mount was caparisoned in silk with jade pendants. He wore a shining robe on which a dragon was embroidered. No armor was visible and his only weapon was a small sword with a jeweled hilt. The man was of lean build with a hawk-like face, nearly as dark as his black eyes.

  Behind him a score of mailed lancers were drawn up, with a banner at their head. The banner bore a dragon. The man's hand was lifted as if to arrest the foot soldiers who were around Khlit. As Khlit watched him he spoke quickly to the officer who was on his knees. Khlit could not understand what they said, but presently the rider turned to him.

  “So we have a chess player who is a Tatar here,” he said in a smooth voice. “I did not know the Tatars played the favorite game of the Dragon Emperor. A rare jewel I have found. Too precious to be thrown to these dogs of mine. Will you sheathe your sword and come with Li Jusong, general of Wan Li, of the Dragon Throne?”

  IX

  Khlit looked long into Li Jusong's impassive countenance. He was face to face at last with the famous general who had led victorious armies against the men of Japan and the Manchus in Korea. He pondered the latter's words. Khlit knew nothing of chess-play. He had taken the role as a safeguard in case he was questioned. What Li Jusong's purpose might be in sparing him he did not know.

  It might be only a respite, but a respite was better than speedy death at the lances of the mailed riders. Khlit could see no course but to yield. He put little trust in the word of Li Jusong, but he preferred the society of the latter to the comrades of the dead Len Shi.

  “Believe him not,” whispered Chagan, “he has the tongue of a poisonous snake. Keep your sword, master. You and I will take many souls with us to the courts of Hades, as good Tatars should.”

  Khlit shook his head. He could see no good in resisting.

  “Have I your word,” he asked Li Jusong, “that I and my companion may keep our swords? And that we will be spared?”

  “Aye, stranger,” smiled Li Jusong, “so long as you are a chess player.”

  In spite of Chagan's protest, Khlit sheathed his weapon. The Tatar scowled blackly at this. Khlit wondered as he saw the man lift his great sword and bring it down across his knee with all the strength of his arms. Chagan's two-handed sword snapped in twain and the giant cast the pieces from him.

  “No other shall have this,” he growled. “Lord, you have done ill.”

  Li Jusong regarded the sword-bearer curiously as Chagan stood beside Khlit with folded arms. His glance strayed to the curved sword of the Cossack and he frowned as if in an effort of memory. He motioned to two of his men to dismount.

  “Ride with me,” he directed Khlit briefly, “you and your man.”

  With that Li Jusong spurred forward his horse. The kneeling officer barely had time to spring to one side. The other riders closed in about them. They went onward through the bloodstained streets of Shankiang.

  Chagan kept close to Khlit's side. Only once did he speak. “You have done ill, lord,” he repeated surlily.

  Khlit made no response and the two said no further word.

  Even when Li Jusong left them at the gate of the governor's palace, which he had taken for his own quarters, and the horsemen led them to apartments in the rear where they sat down to a sumptuous meal plundered from the palace larder, Chagan did not rouse from his reverie.

  The soldiers left them here, with guards. Khlit sought out a bench and stretched full lengt
h upon it, for he was weary. In a moment he was asleep. Chagan, however, had not followed his example. The Tatar paced back and forth through the chamber, eyeing Khlit and the guards. His scarred face was black with anger.

  X

  In spite of tempest or drought or evil demons, the word of a wise man will come true.

  Chinese proverb

  That night was the eighth night of the second moon, according to the chronicle of the Kang Mu, and Li Jusong had put to the sword many thousands of the populace of Shankiang. For two nights and a day his men had sacked the city. Thus, says the Kang Mu, the words of Li Chan Ko, the magician from the Imperial Throne, came to pass.

  That night Khlit learned of the strange prophecy of Li Chan Ko. He had slept for several hours when his guards wakened him, and took him with Chagan to the presence of Li Jusong.

  The general of Wan Li had spent the early part of the night in drinking with his followers in the courtroom of the palace, an ornamented chamber, lacquered and tapestried, which had been spared pillage. Li Jusong was a man who trusted no one save Li Chan Ko, whom he held in great esteem. Consequently the two were alone with a few attendants when Khlit and Chagan were led to the long table where they sat. Four candles on the table lighted the room.

  Li Jusong looked up at their entrance. His hard face was flushed from drinking and his black eyes seemed sunk in his head. He motioned Khlit to a seat on the other side of the table and scanned him covertly.

  “The dogs and vultures are feasting high tonight in Shankiang, Tatar,” he murmured, “for the city has felt the weight of the Dragon's claw. Like candles in the wind, the lives of its people are going out. Truly, it is as blind Li Chan Ko, in his wisdom, has said. Before we left the Great Wall he had foretold the destruction of the city. Harken, Tatar, and hear the words of wisdom.”

  The general turned to Li Chan Ko, a shriveled man in a scholar's dress, who wore the insignia of high caste. Khlit waited silently for what was to come.