Swords From the West

by Harold Lamb

  "Hast wooed the cup too long this night, Sir Hospitaler. Art a fool to give belief to the tale of this wanderer. If my lord of Montserrat had not deemed his tale a lie, he would have granted the Longu'-espee his boon. But two thousand pieces of gold for a vassal's ransom passes belief-when the asker rides with a Moslem."

  "Now by Venus, her girdle," cried the Sieur de la Marra, reaching a quivering hand for his sword, "that touches upon mine honor-"

  "I give you thanks, Sir Hospitaler," broke in Robert, "for your abetment, but no man's aid seek I."

  The red lips of Mistress Bengli curled, for here was a quarrel brewing, and she loved well to see men put themselves to the hazard of drawn steel. She did not fear for Guiblo, knowing that her cousin was well able to make shift for himself, and as for Hugo-a vassal might not strike or miscall his lord. But she was more than a little puzzled when Robert signed for his cup to be filled and waited until Hugo had done likewise.

  "My lord," he said slowly, "I greet you with this, my stirrup cup. In this hour I ride from Montserrat, and my allegiance is at an end. No vassal am I, but my own man henceforth, by your will. With Messer Guiblo and the seneschal I shall have other speech."

  He emptied his goblet and Hugo did the same. Then the Englishman beckoned to Abdullah at the lower table, and in the silence that had fallen upon the company his summons was clearly heard.

  "0 minstrel, a song for the people of the castle. We have had our dinner, it seems, and the wine thereof, and in this place a man must pay a reckoning for all that is bestowed upon him. Sing, 0 Abdullah, of gold and gear and treasure, that they may be pleasured, for my entertainment was but indifferent and dull."

  At this the marquis flushed, while his followers fingered the poniards in their belts; but Mistress Bengli laughed musically, for the Englishman promised to be entertaining after all. Abdullah rose without comment and salaamed to the marquis and the woman. Advancing to the edge of the dais, he lifted his lute and plucked softly at the strings.

  "In the name of Allah, the All-Compassionate, the All-Wise," he began in liquid Arabic, "will the illustrious lords hearken to the tale of a poor wayfarer?"

  His powerful hand swept over the lute, and he chanted, deep-voiced:

  "With Allah are the keys of the unseen, and who is bold enough to take in hand the keys? Doth lack of gold, 0 king, or jewels for the hilts of swords, or horses fleeter than the desert storm, or garments softer than the petals of flowers? Then hearken to my tale of Khar, the Land of the Throne of Gold."

  Those of the listeners who understood Arabic, and they were many, glanced up in some surprise. The legend of Khar had come to their ears before this, but never in the same guise.

  They had heard that beyond the eastern mountain wall was a wide desert and beyond this a sea of salt water. Far to the east lay the greatest of the Moslem kingdoms, so it was said. This was known as Khar, or Khoras- san,* and many were the tales of its wealth.

  Like Cathay or the land of Prester John, the myth was voiced by wandering minstrels, and no man knew the truth of it, and no warrior of the Croises had penetrated farther to the east than the city of Damascus.

  "Know, 0 auspicious lord," chanted Abdullah, "that it hath been my lot to follow the path of a wayfarer. From the Roof of the World I have looked down upon a land fairer than moonlight on a mountain lake; I have walked through gardens where roses were wrought of rubies, with emeralds for leaves; I have sat in a marble tower and beheld the passing of a monarch who hath more riders to his command than the Sultan of Damascus hath stones in his highways. Verily, as grains of sand is the number of warriors in this land. They walk in silvered mail with the plumes of birds upon their heads; their weapons are of blue steel, and the power of their host is such that the mamelukes of Egypt would bow down to them, even as grass before a rising wind."

  Some of the guests smiled, and the Venetians, who were the wisest of the assemblage, sneered openly as at a palpable lie.

  "Yah maulaya, 0 my lord, this is truth. The very trees of the palace gardens in this place are silver; and the monarch thereof hath a lake within his city-a lake built by the hands of his slaves. Within the courtyard of his castle stands a fountain, casting forth water perfumed with musk and aloes."

  Hugo of Montserrat sighed and curled the lock of hair upon his forehead.

  "In this land the lords are carried about by their slaves; save to mount a horse they do not set foot to earth. When the king drinks nakars and trumpets sound; when he walks in his chambers, rolls of silk are spread before him. He dwells in a city so great that the eye cannot measure it from one place. The women of his court are the fairest in the world, for they are brought from every land that his riders can adventure to.

  "Verily," said the teller of tales slowly, "this king is the lord of life and death, for men seeking the joys of his court oft-times perish in the journey thither. But, having come, their joys are the fullest that life can measure out."

  Chapter III

  The Riders from Khar

  "With Allah are the keys of the unseen." Abdullah ceased his say and took his hand from his lute. "But who will seek them out?" he added.

  The listeners glanced at each other, and Mistress Bengli, chin on hand, smiled and watched the gleaming jewels on her fingers. Many had come to Palestine believing that it held the lure of the fabulous Khar and had found it otherwise.

  "I have not heard the tale related so," observed Hugo. "Ha, minstrel, you are skilled in your craft-for you make us think you have dwelt in Khar."

  "Sire, I have."

  Guiblo shook his head.

  "Then, rogue, you must have crossed the great desert and passed through the Iron Gates of which your folk prate."

  Abdullah bowed assent.

  "The road is no easy one. Nay, a full three moons must a man sit in the saddle, and the horse should be of good blood. In an elder day one of the heroes of the Franks led his host over the desert and saw the salt sea that lies in the desert."

  "His name?"

  "Iskander."

  From the end of the table a monk who had not spoken until now looked up with a gleam of interest.

  "By your leave, my lord, that should be Alexander, King of Macedon. Aye, the misguided scholasticists do relate in their profane books the deeds of the Macedonian."

  "And how did Alexander pass the Iron Gates?"

  "With his sword," Abdullah said calmly. "And yet-did he live to set foot in his own land again? Nay; the Iron Cates take their toll."

  "What manner of thing are they?"

  "In the books of the cosmographers Strabo and Herodotus, Messer Guiblo," explained the monk, "there is a mark on the road to the East inscribed with the words 'Caspiae Pylae,' or Gates of the Caspian. Their nature is unknown, for since the day of the caesars no Christian hath ventured there."

  "Riddles," scoffed Hugo in his own speech. "'Tis a myth that holds no profit for us."

  Abdullah appeared to grasp his meaning.

  "0 king," he observed gravely, "riders have come out of Khar on a foray, and the traces of their horses can be seen within your borders."

  "My watchers beheld them not."

  "Who can behold the stars in broad day, or the djinn folk who ride upon the winds at night? Does the lord of the castle wish to see a talsmin-a token that his servant's word is true?"

  Thrusting his hand into his girdle, the minstrel drew forth something that flashed in the flickering candlelight-a neck chain of rubies cut into the semblance of roses, strung on a cord of finely wrought gold.

  "Such jewels as these the women of Khar wear upon their throats."

  Mistress Bengli caught up the chain in her white fingers, and the others crowded close to stare from the gleaming rubies to Abdullah, who seemed inwardly amused by the excitement he had caused.

  Now, considering him narrowly, Longsword thought that no playing of the lute could fashion such muscular hands, and no warbling of nights could give such note of command to a voice. Abdullah bore himself more like
an atabeg-a leader of a host-than a minstrel.

  "Here is a strange rogue forsooth," muttered the seneschal, Piculph, "with a baron's ransom in his belly band."

  Robert frowned, for he wished no ill to the teller of tales, and Abdullah might as well have cast his valuable chain into the Orontes as to have shown it to the woman of the Montserrat. Hugo would cheerfully slit open a hundred natives on the chance that one had swallowed a single ruby like these. But Abdullah seemed no whit fearful of the fate he had called down on himself, for he had ceased to watch Mistress Bengli and was eyeing the great tapestries that shook and bellied upon the walls as the gusts of a rising wind buffeted the castle walls and whined through the cracks. The man, heedless of the company at the table, was listening to the sounds of the night beyond the walls.

  At that moment there was heard a mutter of voices at the entrance to the hall, the clank of a long scabbard on the stone flagging of the floor, and the captain of the warders stood within the curtain with uplifted hand.

  "Pardon, good my lord, I bear tidings. On the river road we have seen an array of Moslems. At midnight I went forth beyond the hamlet to overlook the valley, and in the lower gorge armed men do assemble in ranks. Wilt give command to man the walls, or sally forth?"

  "Ha-so!"

  Hugo stroked his heavy chin and glanced at his companions. "Sir Robert had the right of it, methinks-and the watchers upon the hill towers shall taste of the strappado. What is your counsel, messires?"

  The young Sieur de la Marra struck the table with his fist and set the flagons dancing.

  "By the Cross, messires, the paynims do challenge us. My men and I fare forth to seek them."

  Hugo exchanged a low word with Messer Guiblo, and the Hospitaler caught the mention of Longu'-espee's name.

  "Let it be so. Ho, armiger-my helm and shield. Without there, sound the oliphant to muster our followers."

  Mistress Bengli put her hand to her throat to stifle a scream, and the chain of rubies fell to the table and slid down upon the rushes, whence Abdullah picked them up without being observed. This done, the minstrel made his way quietly to the wind-whipped tapestries in a dim corner.

  An ivory horn sounded a mellow note in the courtyard, and the clatter of horses, led from the stables, made answer. When Hugo's helm was laced on by a squire-at-arms, he summoned the captain of the guard and peered around the hall.

  "In the fiends' name, where went the infidel? Seek him out-you, and you-and retrieve me his chain, or Piculph shall strip and flag you. He stood here but a moment agone-"

  "The knave bath a rare trick of foretelling the mind of your Grace," muttered Guiblo. "And his crony the English boar hath forsaken us as well. Methinks he bears you ill intent."

  "Nay, the youth is a wildling no more. You dared much when you miscalled him. The man's courage is proof, and he will seek you out ere he parts from us."

  With a smile the Venetian pulled on his mailed gloves and tightened his belt.

  "Grant me leave to deal with him-else will hie him to the court and brew trouble for our quaffing. Hearken, lord-there be too many eyes and tongues in this hall. Once in the gullies by the river, ere the search for the infidels is ended, Iny men will attend the Englishman. A blow from an ax, and he will lack his right hand. Thereafter will he bray less loudly of his wrongs."

  The marquis shrugged.

  "I'll hear no more. Yet must I ride forth lest the cursed Hospitaler suspect something amiss."

  Pausing at the donjon gate to tell off a score of men-at-arms to remain and secure Abdullah, he strode to his horse and signed for the clarion to sound the march. Flaring cressets on the walls cast a smoky light over the courtyard and the lance streamers of the knights. Behind these, dark masses of pikemen and archers were forming under Piculph's orders.

  Under the lifted portcullis the Hospitaler and the Longsword sat their powerful chargers impatiently, having put aside their private grievances in the presence of the common foe.

  Hugo glanced around and saw that Abdullah could not have left the donjon without being seen; nor was he visible in the courtyard. Satisfied of this, the master of the castle called for his standard to be lifted, and the first line of riders lowered their lances to pass under the portcullis, following the Sieur de la Marra over the drawbridge.

  The great hall was being ransacked by servants and men-at-arms, who turned over tables and peered into chests, clustering upon the stairs that led to the chambers above, while Mistress Bengli cried to her serving women to lead the search for the Moslem and his jewels into the kitchen and cellars. Eagerly she urged on the men and ran to one of the doorways to listen to the tumult above-stairs.

  Standing there in the shadow, a powerful hand closed over her mouth, holding firm her chin.

  "0 lady," whispered the voice of the minstrel, "would you live to greet the king, your lover, this night? Ai-a, life is sweet, is it not? Nay, do not lift your hands, but walk between me and the light-so-and seek the way that leads to the kitchen-so!"

  Rigid with fright, Mistress Bengli stumbled along the swaying arras and turned into an archway that brought them to a narrow hall. From the corners of her eyes she saw that Abdullah had his scimitar in his left hand, and the gleam of bare steel sent a chill into her veins.

  "It is not fitting, lady," went on the minstrel, "that a man of Khar should loiter in the hall of the feasters, when a battle is joined. So, pray that no man of yours shall meet with us, and lead me to the stables-nay, not into the light!"

  While she grasped little of his speech, his intention was clear and Mistress Bengli breathed a sigh of relief when they stood in the shadow of the horse sheds. Abdullah whistled softly, and somewhere a charger neighed. Drawing the woman with him, he found and saddled his horse, taking his time; for the sheds were deserted after the departure of the riders. He had noticed a small gate in the outer wall, and toward this he walked the black stallion and tapped the bars with his sword.

  Trembling, she lifted the bars and set them aside, then turned the key and tugged open the gate. Abdullah glanced out and saw that the moat did not extend to this angle. Mistress Bengli stepped back, only half believing she was to suffer no hurt from the wayfarer.

  "Say to your lord," he laughed, "that Abdullah ibn Khar rode to Montserrat upon a mission. Aye, to find one among the Franks who was worthy to adventure to the Throne of Gold. Say that he found not such a man within Montserrat, and so-the peace!"

  At the edge of the wooded land the Montserrat archers who were the advance of the marquis's array halted and studied the open valley below them. The remnant of a moon hung over the hills to the south, lighting the expanse of rolling sand that extended to the riverbed. In a hollow by the water glowed the embers of a half-dozen campfires.

  A raven croaked from the shadows, and the screaming snarl of a panther made response. Listening, the archers heard stealthy rustling in the dry brush on either side. They had come upon no sign of the Moslems in the march of a full league, down from the castle. And they saw nothing amiss in the camp of the pilgrims below them.

  So they reported to Longsword and the Hospitaler who rode up presently, followed by the main body. After scanning the valley carefully, Sir Robert surprised his companion by putting spurs suddenly to the bay and galloping out upon the sand.

  He rode into the camp unchallenged and halted by the oxcarts that were ranged near the fire. The Sieur de la Marra paused to look down at the pilgrims who lay in scattered groups in the hollows, and to swear under his breath.

  "-! Montserrat feared an ambushment, yet methinks naught lies in wait here save Death."

  At the coming of the crusaders jackals and snarling four-footed things slipped out of the camp into the shadows. Even the oxen had been cut down, and one man still gripping an ax was prone in the ashes of the fire, his head half burned away.

  Torches were kindled by the archers while the riders quieted their horses, made restless by the penetrating smell of blood. Some stared at the carts where a score of
bodies lay about the woman who still held the baby in her arms-all pierced by arrows. In the shallows of the rivers the standard-bearer sprawled, the shaft of the banner floating beside his head. In all quarters the sand was trampled by horses' hoofs, yet the pilgrims had had no horses. The Hospitaler dismounted to examine one of the arrows and announced that it was a kind he had not seen before-a short shaft, unbarbed but with long feathering.

  "It smacks of an Arab bow. Ha, messires, I wot well the minstrel spoke the truth! The riders who did this pretty business came from the desert, and mayhap from Khar."

  Whoever they were, the raiders had taken the camp by surprise and had wrought fearful havoc with small loss to themselves. No bodies of Saracens were to be seen, and if any had been slain they were borne off by their comrades. The attack-judging by the numbers of beasts that gathered about the scene-had taken place some hours before, so the Montserrat watchers must have beheld the foray riding back from the river to one of the trails that led through the mountains.

  Pursuit was not to be thought of. The Croises had learned after bitter experiences that their heavily armed warriors and sturdy chargers could not deal with the swift-moving Saracens in broken country.

  "A fair riddance, messires," mouthed Hugo, turning over the body of a ragged lad with his lance point. "We need no longer feed the rabble, though we must e'en bury it-Fra Anselmo will see to't. Come, who is for the castle?"

  The archers and pikemen who had been combing over the scattered packs of the pilgrims, already pillaged by the raiders, began to move toward their officers, while Guiblo and his following with Piculph the Lombard and Hugo's squire drew closer about the three.

  But the young Hospitaler stooped to the stained sand and held up a slender gauntlet embroidered with silk initials.

  "E. de I.-requiescat in pace, whosoever ye be-a woman's hawkinggauntlet, or I'm a turn-spit. What-how now?"

  Robert had taken the glove from him and turned to face the marquis.

  "Messire," said he, "it lingers in my memory that you did give your knightly word to the rabble that you would defend them against all foes upon this, your land." As Hugo was silent in surprise, he added-"Those who utter what they will not defend with their bodies, I do hold arrant cowards, recreant to their vows."