by Harold Lamb
Stumbling forward, he tried to feel out the way.
Though his legs still carried him, he was half unconscious. Then he became aware that he was in a dry place—a shallow cavern, he thought. He heard the heavy breathing of the horses, the light step of Nada. Flinging himself down, he fell asleep at once.
The girl had taken the warrior's head in her lap, and with the long tresses of hair that had been kept dry under the sheepskin hat she rubbed the water and blood from his face. Because she also was weary and—for the first time in months—happy, she wept.
1
This must have been the Ural River, then called the Jaick, the farthest landmark in Central Asia known to Cossacks or Muscovites.
2
Cossack.
Chapter XVI Tevakel Khan
Girai the ax-man sat on the saddle atop the treasure wagon of the vanished wizard and related over and over again the tale of what he had seen. This he did to establish his own worth and importance, but also to keep intact the contents of the wagon.
It had been placed upon him as a duty to preserve this spoil for the Cossack, and, being no more than one man, Girai knew that guile must come to the aid of his ax if he was to ward greedy hands from the bundles and chests that he sat on.
With the gold-embroidered kontash of the dead Pole wrapped around him, and the body of the Pole to point to in evidence of his tale, he held forth:
"Hai—in this fashion it was. We had slain many of the Turkoman wolves—the Cossack fanga and I. We twain rode up this height to where the standard was to be seen. In this place, as you may see, I slew the Frank, splitting his skull. Then out of the darkness appeared the woman dressed as a man and the Cossack bade me wipe clean a light sword and bestow it upon her. It was a good sword, though light. Then the twain rode to look at this wagon which contains the magic of the fanga nialma.
"No sooner had they touched the wagon than the fanga nialma came toward us, with a white pelt swinging from his shoulders and his horse snorting fire. The Cossack fanga shouted and reined at him, swinging the enchanted sword that cuts through iron or leather. If there were not magic in the sword, how else would it cut as it does?
"Then, behold, the fanga nialma fled for his life.
"But he cried out to the spirits of the upper air, and rain came, to be a veil in covering his flight. He vanished like a rat in a wheat field, and the Cossack also vanished; but by the gods of the high places, my brothers, it is not well to touch this wagon. I, who have permission, may sit in this saddle thus. Now, my brothers, bring me mare's milk and the fat tail of a sheep from a full pot."
After a time came Tevakel Khan with two sons, to look at the wizard's wagon. Though they yearned to investigate, after hearing Girai's tale they decided not to do so until all the rest of the spoil of the Turkoman camp was safely garnered.
The Turkoman wolves had been slashed and driven. The fighting eddied over the plain, as scattered wind gusts follow a hurricane. And the Tartars pursued like ferrets—for this was the kind of fighting they relished. The Horde had been thinned under the dreaded swords of the invaders, but a great number of the Turkomans lay headless in the high, wet grass. Their heads were piled into pyramids, about which vultures and crows flapped and stalked. The men of the Golden Horde cared not for slaves, and they had seen their women hung by the feet and burned the night before.
The younger warriors were still in the saddle, harrying the groups of the flying, when, at midafternoon, Kirdy and Nada rode in on lame horses, and Girai gave up his charge.
No sooner had the Cossack dismounted than word of his arrival was carried to Tevakel Khan. A carpet was placed near the wagon, and upon this the old chieftain knelt, while his surviving sons gathered behind him. Gravely he acknowledged Kirdy's salute, and without expression he stared at Nada, evidently believing her a captive.
"The fate of man is in God's hands," he intoned, and added: "Hast thou slain the wizard of Ilbars Sultan?"
"Nay—he has escaped to the east."
"Doubtless taking the form of a serpent or a rat," nodded the khan, who was familiar with the evasiveness of wizards. "Yet this, his kibitka, is in thy hands. Thou hast, too, his woman. But let us see what is in the sacks." Many and varied were the tales that had sprung up among the Horde of the splendor and the daring of the departed wizard, and—though he gave no sign of it—Tevakel Khan was afflicted with all the curiosity of a child.
First the saddle was brought to the chieftain for inspection, then kegs of powder, which he recognized and distrusted. He believed that firelocks were uncanny, and since the firelocks of the Turkomans had done them little good, he decided to sprinkle the powder on the earth, where it could do no harm.
A pair of flutes pleased him immensely, and rich garments and jars of rum and brandy likewise. But when Kirdy broke open a small chest and showed him strings of pearls, the notorious gold apple, the gold staff with jeweled tip, and rubies and diamonds of great size and luster, he fell into meditation.
"Aforetime," Kirdy reminded him, "I made pledge that from the spoil of this camp a gift should be found for thee—a fitting gift. Take then these precious stones, for they are part of a royal treasure." Again the old man scrutinized each flaming ruby—torn from more massive settings—and the blue and yellow diamonds that must have come from Persia.
"Allah!" he grunted. "Of what worth are these? The garments I shall wear, and the wines shall be drunk from the skull cup of Ilbars Sultan. But these will not keep out the cold or warm the blood."
"They are thine. Do with them as thou wilt."
"They brought no good to the fanga nialma. Such things work evil. I have seen it. I have goods enough. From the earth they came, and I shall have them buried, and a horse slain upon the spot as an offering to the spirits of the high places."
Kirdy glanced at Nada, who was fingering the stones curiously.
"The khan will bury them," he said. "Will you not keep some?" The girl smiled, and then shook her head.
"Nay, White Falcon—they were stolen, and what would they avail us here?" Now the jewels were the last of the things of the false tsar—and Kirdy thought that he must have carried them from the palace the day before his flight from Moscow, sending them ahead in the sledge. Such articles as these might have been carried out under one of the immense coats of the Muscovites, and Otrepiev had counted on changing them into money when his journey had ended. And Kirdy wondered, while he waited for the khan to acknowledge his gift, whether Otrepiev had turned back through the shambles of the camp to seek Nada or these precious stones.
"Eh," said Tevakel Khan, "now come ye to my yurta and make choice of whatever thing thou desirest." A Tartar is avaricious where presents are concerned, but it is a matter of personal honor with him that the giver be rewarded. So he was surprised and not too well pleased when the Cossack said he would take only fresh horses and a man to show him the way.
"Whither?"
"Only the eagles know. I go upon the trail of my enemy, the fanga nialma."
Considering this, the khan shook his head moodily.
"Thou art bold, O Cossack. Thou art terrible in battle, as a man should be. Thou hast a golden-haired slave, and here in the Horde there is a place for thee, at the right of the fire. What more will a journey bring thee?"
"Vengeance."
"For death?"
"For the deaths of ten thousand, and the broken promise of a traitor."
The old chieftain made a gesture as of casting a stick upon a fire.
"With the slayer of his kin a man may not sleep under the same sky. Bind thy wounds, that they do not open—choose from my herd what pleases thee, and go. Yet if thy rein is drawn again to the Altyn-juz, the place on the white horse skin of my yurta is open. I have said it, and my word is not smoke."
Aware that this was a favorable moment to leave, and that the goodnature of the old man might not last, Kirdy placed his hand to his forehead and lips.
"And the woman!" Tevakel Khan observed suddenly. "Wh
at is to be done with her?"
"She desires to go with me."
"Then thy peace will be troubled, because she came from the camp of thine enemy. It would be better to slay her with thy sword—thus!"
He moved the scimitar that lay across his knees significantly.
"Nay, she is a Cossack, and her father is the master of the wolves, thy friend."
"Allah!" Tevakel Khan considered Nada and thought that here was a matter of wonder. It seemed to him that this feud was no ordinary pursuit of blood, but a struggle of wizardry. He chose rather to hear the ending of it than to have a share in it himself, and he gave Kirdy leave to go.
When the wounded Cossack and the young girl walked away through the charred camp, the sun was near setting, and the red light brought to the mind of Tevakel Khan another matter, most vital. His faded eyes gleamed, the wrinkles in his broad face deepened, and he bade his sons bring to him the scholar who did his writing.
When the native was seated at his feet, thin brush and paper roll in hand, the master of the Golden Horde began speaking.
"Write thus! To Arap Muhammad Khan of Khiva, lord of dead wolves and king of grave-jackals, greeting from his foe Tevakel Khan of the Al-tyn-juz!
"Understand that upon this day, the fifth of the month of the Ox, I mounted and rode against thy camp and thy son Ilbars Sultan and thy warriors, sword in hand.
"Thou couldst not see the flames devour thy tents, thy heroes overthrown and trampled, their heads piled into heaps.
"Thou couldst not see thy wise men and wizards fleeing like sheep, brother parting from brother—thy horses taken by my grandchildren, thy weapons cast before my tent pole, thy standard the plaything of girl-children—nor the skull of thy son Ilbars Sultan that was, a drinking cup ready to my hand.
"Since all these things thou couldst not see, and since not a man of thine hath escaped to bear thee the tale, I, Tevakel Khan—I tell it thee!"
This was the Tartar's valedictory to the hated Turkoman, and when he had satisfied himself that Al-Tabir did not understand the writing, Te-vakel Khan gave the letter to the interpreter of dreams to bear to Khiva, instructing several of his warriors to accompany the Persian as far as the first outposts of the Turkomans.
Chapter XVII The Gate in the Mountain
It was several days later that Kirdy and Nada camped near a Tartar ceme-tery—a place of gray, moss-coated rocks and dense rushes—and listened to a harangue by Girai the ax-man, who had offered to accompany them. A half dozen rough-coated ponies grazed outside the firelight, with the bay stallion that the girl had kept. Their packs now held little except meat and salt, and Girai's cooking implements, and furs.
Squatting at a little distance from them, the Tartar spoke gravely, his hideous face outlined by the glow of the fire against the loom of a rock.
"Kai, it is so. Here the grazing land ends and the thick forest begins. After the rains it was a small matter to follow the trace of thine enemy; but in the forest a trail is lost if it be three or four days old."
Kirdy merely nodded, and Nada, lying outstretched on a bed of moss, hands clasped behind her head, looked only at the canopy of stars that seemed nearer now they had left the mists of the plain behind. Girai peered at his master uneasily.
"Thou hast seen. Once, in the first day, thine enemy sought to turn west. He fell in with riders going to the camp of the khan. They knew him not. They sold him a sheep and perhaps other things. As far beyond this spot as a man can see, thine enemy the fanga dismounted. His companion cooked part of the sheep. The horses rolled and grazed.
"For a while they watched from a high place, doubtless seeing others of my people. So they knew no path was open to them toward the setting sun. They turned then to the rising sun.
"Now they ride toward the Mountains of the Eagles, and through these mountains they mean to go."
Kirdy looked up.
"How knowest thou?"
"If a buffalo makes for a ford does it not mean to cross the stream? It is so! These twain have drawn their reins toward a gut in the range. They will go through."
"Is there a way?"
The ax-man rubbed his knees and looked everywhere but into the Cossack's eyes.
"There is a way."
"Can this fanga find it without a guide?"
Girai grinned.
"Nay, Cossack, hath he not a guide? One who knows all the ways of the earth?"
"Who then?"
"Shaitan, who sits atop yonder rampart. He beckons the rider and surely the gate is open when the Yakka Shaitan, the Lord of the Night, beckons."
The Cossack grunted and tried another tack. Girai had spoken of the snow range not as mountains but as a rampart, which implied a citadel or fortified place somewhere above them.
"Is the gate barred?"
"Is the pass to the wolf's gully barred to the lamb? Nay, the pass is open."
"What pass?"
Girai waved a scarred hand impatiently.
"Yonder pass, high—high. There the eagles and the vultures sit and wait. Fools may go through the pass to the other side. Yet the eagles are wiser. They sit and wait for food."
"Beyond the pass, is there a fortified place?"
"Ask the kites! They know, and we—we do not know. Only at one time there was a city beyond the rampart. It was the city of the Golden Horde."
"And now?"
"It is a kuran tengri—a place accursed. In three lifetimes no man of the Horde has crossed to the side of the rampart where the sun rises." And that was all Girai would say. Considering his words, Kirdy saw a little light. To the Tartars all lofty peaks are traditionally sacred—they went to a mountain summit to pray, and ran away if a storm came up. The snow range that was now clearly visible, even in the starlight, was a natural barrier.
That Girai and his fellows should be superstitious about the Mountains of the Eagles was to be expected.
Now Girai had used the words kuran tengri to describe what lay beyond the pass above them. This meant a forbidden or haunted spot, but a place of spirits as well. Such a name usually, the Cossack remembered, had a cause.
If there were indeed a city beyond the pass, it might be a city where the Horde had met with calamity in almost forgotten days. If so, the Tartars would naturally avoid the site. Asia has its lost cities where once devastating sand or plague has entered in—or an invading horde. Time would have erased the memory of calamity, though not the dread of the place.
So much Kirdy knew. And this would account for the tale of the Persian, that the mountain rampart was unscalable, and that beyond it the sun came up. Yet Al-Tabir had also said that Nada knew of a city on the far side of the range and had told Otrepiev of it. He looked at the silent girl.
"Nada, why did you send Otrepiev to chase shadows? Who knows the country beyond these mountains?"
"Ai-a, White Falcon!" She stretched slender arms toward the stars and turned on her side to smile at him. "Am I a vampire to lead men from the trail? I spoke the truth."
She watched Girai replenish the fire and go off to the ponies.
"The ax-man is troubled. I think he is afraid. And you—you are like all men. When your enemy escapes you turn to me with a black brow and say, 'Why didst thou in this fashion?' Long ago my father wandered in the steppe and crossed the path of this Horde. And the mother of Tevakel Khan liked me and told me many tales—of a city that had once belonged to the Horde. I told her of Moscow, and she swore that this khan tengri was more splendid than that, with higher walls. They who entered this city found peace. And that, surely, is greater than Moscow. I think the hag wanted to steal me, but Tevakel Khan forbade."
"Girai says that Otrepiev is heading for the pass that leads to this place."
Drowsily, Nada nodded, resting her head on her arm.
"Aye, my Falcon, and if he finds a city and a strange people, he will make himself master of them, as he did of the Muscovites. When the Turkoman riders were seen coming toward us on the plain, he robed his followers in rich coats a
nd sables and took the scepter in his hand, greeting the dog-thieves as servants come to his aid."
She laughed delightedly.
"Kai, so it happened they were astonished and a little afraid—when six wild geese flew up from the grass at their coming. I saw it. Luck played into the hand of Gregory Otrepiev, but his boldness saved my life."
Now she glanced fleetingly at the silent Cossack.
"O White Falcon, I made him a promise that if he should make himself king of the people beyond the mountain I would then bend the head to him and sit at his feet as queen."
"That was ill said."
From beneath long lashes dark eyes took stock of the young warrior and his growing anger. Nada fairly purred.
"'Why didst thou in this fashion?' So the Cossack says in his heart, being blind as a wounded ox. Have you tamed me, Cossack? Have you bound my tongue?"
"It was ill done, to send Otrepiev astray!"
This seemed to please her the more.
"Ill done! It was his fate that he should go! A new kingdom to be conquered! What if he had but one man to ride at his heel, his treasure lost, his courtiers slain? The rampart is high—the more reason to climb it; the city beyond is unknown—so he went to find it. That is his way. Besides," she added tranquilly, "where else could he go? You have seen, and Girai has growled it out, that only the mountain pass was open to him."
"Nay, yours was the spur that sent him forward."
"True! How much better for him if he had lingered at that first camp, eating mutton until you came, with your sword, on a Tartar's pony—"
Kirdy winced, because the diminutive beasts of the Golden Horde were ill suited to his height, and Nada, secure on the great-limbed charger, had pointed this out more than once.
"—and cut him to pieces," the girl concluded pleasantly. "As it is, he goes free into the unknown."
"You led him across the dry lands."
"Should I leave him for the kites? Nay, he could never have found the way. And you blame me for that?"