Swords From the West

by Harold Lamb

  "Co in," said the hag without emotion.

  "Why?" Alai objected. "To what?"

  "To listen to the voice of Gutchluk Khan."

  The hag sat down on rubble of a ruined gateway with the air of one who may have the night to wait. Alai hesitated only a minute before climbing into the ruins, outwardly confident enough in her slender khalat and small boots, but inwardly much afraid. Even Paldorak was less ominous than this deserted domain of a wizard.

  Some distance ahead a lantern rested on the ground. When she was about to take it up, the shrunken figure of a man appeared beside her and picked up the light. He moved with a curious shuffling step, and in a moment she discovered that he was blind. He must have known every foot of the height, to lead the way as he did, down one lane between broken rock walls into another.

  The Tatar girl had a keen sense of direction and she was aware that the blind lantern bearer doubled on his path, making circles through the labyrinth, until he came to a square pool coated with green scum. Tamarisk and creepers grew out of the crevices above the stagnant water, and, as the guide made his way slowly along the edge, a sluggish snake slid from beneath his feet into the water.

  To comfort herself, Alai sang under her breath a song of the sheepherders, to ward off evil spirits:

  Turning his wrinkled head, the man snarled at her voicelessly and beckoned her under an archway. Descending some steps that had been cleared of debris, he came out into what looked like an open court. Grass grew in the cracks of the flagging, and some effort had been made to repair the walls, which were too high to climb.

  Taking his lantern, the blind guide retraced his steps, and Alai heard a wooden door rasp shut. For a moment she thought she was alone in the court; then in the far end, flooded by moonlight, she saw a man standing with outstretched arms. Except for his head, which turned restlessly, he made no movement. Alai made out that he was bound on a stake, his arms fastened to the crosspiece.

  And he was Abu Harb, except for his head which resembled a black panther's. Slowly the girl advanced into the moonlight, and the head turned toward her without a sound. Black hair hung about it, and white fangs gleamed in the mouth aperture.

  And out of the mouth came an unknown voice.

  "Thou art the daughter of Neshavan."

  It was an expressionless voice, dull and inhuman. Alai shivered suddenly and clenched her hands at her sides. The garments and figure were undoubtedly Abu Harb's, the muzzle was a black panther's and the hair might have been anything. But the voice! Then slowly the head turned to one side and, following its glance, she saw a white vulture perched on the edge of the wall.

  "I slew Neshavan," the voice went on tonelessly. "Because he betrayed to the Tatars the messages carried by my pigeons. Now it hath been said to me that thou hast taken the message sent by one khan to the other. I had possessed myself of that missive, and now I seek it. Where is it hidden?"

  Alai was not too startled to think clearly. This must be the voice of Gutchluk Khan, yet it asked a very human question. Wisely she waited for more, while she steadied her thoughts.

  "Already the Arab Abu Harb bath been questioned, telling only lies in answer. This that you see is his body. It is well not to lie within these walls. Where is the silver tube sealed with the seal of Barka Khan?"

  Now that her head was clear the Tatar girl fell to her knees, pretending fright she did not feel.

  "Truly thou sayest-" the quiver in her voice was not all assumed-"O voice from the dead. My hand took the silver tube from the pack of the farangi, who is a fool besides being accursed."

  "And within it there was a writing. Where hast thou hidden it?"

  "Ai, hast thou the eyes of a grave bird, to see through darkness and distance? I meant no harm. I heard talk of emeralds sealed within the tube. So I opened it secretly, breaking the seal of the khan. As thou sayest, it held a long roll of writing, stamped with a seal."

  "And the place of this writing?"

  Alai, who had been watching the panther's head intently, was nearly certain now that the voice came from the wall behind it.

  "I cast it into the swift waters of the Zarafshan, and now it is gone like a stray leaf in the wind."

  "Why?"

  "Be not angry, 0 voice of the night. I was grieved that the tube held no precious things. I thought harm would come of breaking the khan's seal, so I cast it beyond sight."

  Silence fell upon the courtyard and, as if emboldened by it, Alai rose and edged toward the outstretched figure. Suddenly she reached out and touched the panther's head, feeling the hard surface of a lacquer mask. Gripping this in both hands she lifted it, disclosing the very much alive head of Abu Harb. A gag had been thrust into his mouth, and his jaw bound tight.

  Glancing behind him swiftly, she made out a large crevice in the stone wall, a yard away, and thought that the voice must have come from there. She tugged loose the cloth, and Abu Harb spat out the gag.

  "Where is Lord Nial?" she whispered, so that he barely heard.

  "In the house of Mir Farash. Nay, do not touch me. This is a place of many devils."

  A hissing as of a dozen snakes rose from the empty pavement beneath them, and when Alai started back the scream of a panther rose from the wall. She waited, breathless, expecting to see a living beast spring over. But the lantern appeared behind her, and the blind custodian of the gate beckoned toward her angrily.

  "Go," Abu Harb moaned. "Obey them. There is no hope for me."

  There was menace in the silence of the court, and she was powerless to loose the Arab's bonds. Quietly she followed the blind man out.

  When the old slave woman had escorted her back to the house beside the bazaar and the door had been barred behind them, Alai lifted her head with sudden decision.

  "Take me to thy lord, Mir Farash."

  Uneasily the hag peered up at her.

  "Nay, at this hour he is taking opium, and women may not come into his presence."

  "I come at the bidding of Gutchluk Khan."

  As though against her intuition, the hag led the Tatar girl up the tower stair to a drawn curtain, and motioned toward it. Alai pointed down the stair impatiently.

  "Shall such as thou linger to hear the words the voice sends to thy lord? Go and wait below."

  When she was sure that the woman was really frightened and out of hearing, Alai lowered her veil, ran swift fingers through her dark tresses and repressed a shiver as she parted the curtains. The chamber within was close sealed, lighted only by a colored lamp upon the floor. She caught a glimpse of a shrine behind it, hearing a gilded statue of many-armed Siva in the pose of the dance of death. The hangings were embroidered with rose-colored figures of dancing yakshas, while the air reeked of scent.

  Mir Farash sat back indolently upon the cushions of the divan, staring at her through half-closed eyes.

  "What devil brought thee hither?" he wondered audibly.

  In a single glance Alai decided how much he had drunk and how far he was master of his own mind. With a half smile, and unmistakable delight in her dark eyes, she knelt by the divan.

  "Ai sarkar-i-'aziz-O cherished master, I come at Gutchluk's bidding, for I have been to the court by the pool. Verily also I would thank thee for taking me from the hand of that infidel."

  "And verily by the gods-" Mir Farash forgot to play the devout Mos- lem-"thou halt changed thy heart, for in the valley when I found thee under the circling vulture thou didst fight like a she-leopard against being carried to the trail. But I had seen the horses of the two men and I was not to be led astray by thy tongue."

  His words came slowly, although his memory played nimbly down the space of years. To his eyes, Alai appeared a youthful and lovely goddess, clad in strange garments, surrounded by an elusive crimson light. In that glow the trail to Paldorak took shape dimly. Alai weighed his words instantly, pondered what lay behind them, while she held his eyes locked in hers.

  "Have I not come hither to serve your exalted presence?" She whispered lon
g praise of him in Persian. "Look, 0 Earth Shaker, I make ready a new drink for the pleasure of your Nobility."

  She let him run his fingers through the smooth tangle of her hair while she inspected the enamel jars of liquids and powders on the table beside her. Selecting raw arak, she mixed the spirits with bhang and offered him the cup with a melting smile. Warily he sniffed at it and drank a little. And Alai appeared to become lost in contemplation.

  "In the court," she murmured idly, "Gutchluk Khan said that the accursed Tatars had lifted their standards to attack Paldorak. May they become lost and stray!"

  "All is at the feet of the gods, little Alai. Siva the Destroyer strikes unseen. Nay, would the Tatars have come if they had not seen the missives written by Gutchluk to his men in Samarkand? Before then they feared him, as a wizard dwelling upon the heights. They knew how he took plunder from the caravan trails, but they would not go against him. Neshavan sent the missives taken by his hawks from our pigeons to the Tatar haz- ara khan at Samarkand."

  This, although interesting, was not what Alai had hoped to hear. She seemed to pay little heed.

  "Still, they did not move against the power of Gutchluk, who is not to be seen."

  "Our spies told us of preparations made, and of a report to be sent to the great Kublai Khan, who dwells by the garden of Xandu where all magic is made." Mir Farash followed the drift of his thoughts, until Alai prompted him again, this time holding his eyes, her dark head swaying a little.

  "Surely that was the letter your men stole, and that I stole from the farangi with the head of a lion and the heart of a stupid boy. Now he lies within the chains of your power here in this tower."

  "Nay, below. In a chamber beneath the quarters of the dogs my servants."

  "By the stair?"

  "The first chamber by the door into the bazaar." Mir Farash blinked uneasily as he emptied the cup. "We will give him up to the Tatars for gold, perhaps. Who knows what his portion in life is to be? There was a prophecy told in the serai of Samarkand that this Lord Nial would carry his sword to Kublai Khan despite all that lies in his way. Our kismet will be known before the moon is full."

  "How?" Alai whispered.

  But Mir Farash was lost in his thoughts. She watched him for a moment, then sang under her breath the song of a wizard who leaped from height to height on a winged horse, and of a horde of warriors who sought to shoot him down with their arrows.

  "Aye, the Horde," he breathed, his hands quivering. "The Horde that finds its way over the mountain barrier. It goes where the wind goes, and how can it be turned aside?"

  "Then it is coming?"

  "It is drawing near the gates. It is coming with power to crush and to slay."

  "By what road?"

  Alai's voice no longer caressed. She cried out the words, penetrating the drug stupor that enveloped the Persian's brain. Already she had discovered where Nial was confined, and something more. Mir Farash fought against fear of peril and dread that the Tatar warriors might raid the city of Gutchluk. The letter that Gutchluk sought might have tidings of an attack to be launched upon Paldorak. Gutchluk had known that the stolen tube contained a letter. But Alai knew that Paldorak had nothing to dread from the Tatar regiment coming up the Zarafshan valley. The gate at the summit of the pass surely could never be forced. And Mir Farash had spoken of gates.

  "By the other road, from Khodjent, from the north." The Persian's voice was only half conscious.

  And Alai drew a long breath of satisfaction. So a second division of Tatars was on the march toward Paldorak through the northern valley. She remembered the break in the barrier hills there.

  "Where lies the gate upon this road?" she demanded.

  Mir Farash shook his head slowly.

  "The path of the valley is open-open, if Gutchluk cannot close it."

  He seemed to be asleep, although his hands moved restlessly at his throat. No longer heeding him, the Tatar girl investigated the room swiftly, taking up a rose-colored khalat she had noticed in one corner, and searching until she found one of the Persian's long turban cloths. Then without a sound she picked up his girdle cloth and long scimitar. Slipping out of the lamplight, she drew on the pink khalat, which covered her own long-sleeved coat, the two making her appear almost the size of the slender Persian.

  More carefully she coiled her dark tresses close upon her head and wound the white silk turban cloth fold upon fold, glancing at the motionless figure on the divan for guidance, until the heavy turban became the image of Mir Farash's, except for the long end which she drew across her lower face. Winding the waist cloth above her hips, she thrust the scimitar sheath through it and slipped through the curtain.

  "Ohai," she called with the Persian's intonation. "By Siva, who waits below? "

  A rustle answered her, and she stepped into the shadows beyond the stair. The hag appeared, muttering, with a candle. When the woman had vanished into a room, Alai descended the stair quietly, passing her own room, and searching through the dark corridors until she found another flight of steps leading down. It was then the early hours of the morning and the only souls awake seemed to be a half dozen Kara Kalpaks who yawned over dice by the main gate.

  Alai dared not risk calling for a light. In half darkness or moonlight her figure might pass for the Persian's. She made her way down to the lowest corridors, seeking for a door that might lead to the bazaar. Instead, she found a tribesman squatting against the wall by a smoking lantern; he scrambled to his feet at her approach. The door behind him was bolted.

  "I will take the farangi with me," Alai murmured, keeping her distance from the light. "Do thou go and saddle two horses swiftly. Bring them into the alley of the bazaar."

  Evidently Mir Farash was feared, for the man almost stumbled as he hastened to unbar the door at the corridor end and vanish into the darkness. Alai possessed herself of the lantern and entered the room he had been watching. And Nial, waking at the sound, looked up indifferently, then in amazement, as the girl tossed the loose turban end from her face.

  "Be silent," she whispered. "Come!"

  Leaving the light in the corridor, she passed out into the alley. When he followed she took him by the hand, leading him into the gloom of an archway opposite.

  "Wait for a little," she cautioned him. "Do not speak. There are ears awake in this place."

  "You have a sword."

  Impatiently she thrust the sheathed scimitar into his hand and placed her own hand upon his lips. Then she watched while slouching figures emerged from nowhere and hawk-like faces peered in at the half open, lighted door. The prowling tribesmen passed on, and presently the Kara Kalpak appeared, leading two restive saddled horses. He seemed startled when Alai and Nial came up from the darkness, but the girl put a stop to his questions by mounting with a leap and trotting off, raising echoes in the alley courtyards.

  Not until she reached an open square, where only hungry dogs moved, did she draw rein and wait for Nial.

  "Wallahi." She bubbled over with pent-up laughter. "Where have I not been! Oh, it is good to breathe clean air again. Did they take your great sword away, valiant Lord Nial?" A glance at his grim face silenced her amusement. "But you have another sword, and now must it clear a way for our escape. I know the way. There is a path to the north, to the great caravan road at Khodjent. Aye, the Tatars are in that valley, moving upon Paldorak. They will take vengeance for the blood of Neshavan. They will greet me as a friend. Come, before Mir Farash rouses to search for us, or Gutchluk makes new magic!"

  "What befell Abu Harb?"

  "Up yonder he is-" Alai inclined her head toward the ruin upon the height-"bound, in Gutchluk's hands. Perhaps he is dead by now."

  At Nial's exclamation, she told him of her visit to the court beyond the pool and her words with the old Arab.

  "He bade me go, and what he hath seen I know not. As for Gutchluk, I think he is no more than a man skilled in trickery who throws his voice from place to place, like the conjurers of Ind. Aye, he makes his
voice fly back from cliffs. I lied to him about the letter of the khan."

  "You stole the silver tube!"

  "Nay, I hid it. You would not cast it away, so when anger came upon me, when we watched the Kara Kalpaks, I went down to the horses, sending Abu Harb away. I took the tube wrapped in its silk and hid it where no thieves pillage, under the stones of the shrine, the grave. But first I looked to see what was within it."

  "The devil!"

  "A writing, bordered with crimson and heavy with gold, with gilt lettering. Aye, how could I read it? It was the Mongol writing, from one great khan to another."

  "So the seal is broken," Nial said gravely.

  "What harm? Gutchluk hath it not and the Tatars will not find it upon you, 0 slow of wit. Come! Soon the moon will be low."

  But Nial shook his head slowly, his hands gripped on the saddlehorn.

  "Go, little Alai, seek the men of the Horde. I may not take the road while Abu Harb is a captive. We have shared his salt."

  "His salt! And hast thou not shared mine, that day near Talas? Have I not made smooth thy path, putting aside the thorns and spying out the peril that was hidden?" She urged her horse closer to his side, her eyes dark with sudden anxiety. "Think, Lord Nial, how the path of safety lies there below us. Among the Tatar warriors thou wilt have honor, and I also-for the name of the noyon, my father, is not forgotten among them. In the camp of war thou art like to a raging torrent; none can stand against thee."

  Nial smiled reminiscently.

  "I thought it was thy wish, little Alai, to serve this wizard khan."

  "0 fool, to believe that!" Impulsively the girl lifted her head. "Kai, I can reveal to thee the wisdom of unknown things. Thou canst take command in the Horde, crush these snakes of Paldorak and make a kingdom out of these hills. Together we can ride where the eagles play."

  Timidly her fingers brushed his throat and lips, while the moonlight painted in elfin colors the loveliness of her face, eager as a child's.

  "Only come away, now. Up there is an evil power that will break thy sword and destroy thee. Come with me!"