Swords of the Steppes

by Harold Lamb

  In spite of what he said, his eyes roved eagerly around the swamp, until well clear of the rushes, without catching sight of what he sought. Os-talim and Rashov, realizing the truth of the old man's words, had flung themselves, exhausted, on the bottom of the boat.

  Mirovna was the first to speak. "Look!" she cried. "On the shore. Several regiments of Tartars are moving toward Ruvno on the higher land. And—see! On the river by the siech two of the enemy sailing ships are headed this way."

  Chapter VI The Peril on the River

  Mirovna's cry brought the two Cossacks to their feet in short order, and they saw that she spoke the truth. The sun was now well up, and the river banks were in plain sight. Against the sky line on the side nearest them they could see rank after rank of Tartar helmets moving in the direction of Ruvno, which lay some ten miles off. Ostalim guessed that these were the ones who had been hidden in the swamp, where they had come during the night, and that they had emerged as soon as scouts reported the siech deserted.

  Moreover, the two sailing craft were in motion in their direction, although still three or four miles off. The light breeze which had sprung up from the south favored the Tartar craft which were making two paces to their one, even under the skillful handling of the old rower, who had arranged the sail cunningly to get the full strength of the light air.

  There was no sign of the regiments of the siech, who had made the crossing with true Cossack swiftness and vanished into the wooded hills on the farther side of the river in pursuit of those who—as they imagined— had carried off their comrades. Ruvno itself lay around a bend in the river, and was hidden from them.

  Mirovna and the three men in the sailing skiff were being rapidly overhauled by the two faster craft of the enemy, and were without a friend in sight. At their feet, in the stout wooden chests, was the treasure of the siech, worth the ransom of five rich towns, or the plunder of a dozen heavy-laden merchant fleets.

  Ostalim drew the members of his little party together in a council to discuss their position, and to see if any hope of escape offered. All but one were silent.

  "As Cossacks," said the old man thoughtfully, brushing back the matted hair which hung over his faded eyes, "we have but one duty, and that is to save the war treasure if it can be done. Already we have sacrificed one life of a brother to do it—and that was no easy matter for me"—his heavy voice faltered as he said it—"and we hold our lives lightly, if we may succeed in any way. Have I spoken truly?"

  "That is the truth, honorable sir," replied Ostalim respectfully; "but how are we to save the treasure, even at the cost of our lives? And we must remember that there is a woman on the ship, to whom we owe protection not less than-"

  "Not so," cried Mirovna with a toss of her black head. "Think you that a Cossack daughter will ask to survive her father, at such a price! What is your plan, honorable sir?"

  "Well spoken, little one," approved the old man gravely. "Such words become the child of an ataman. My plan offers small chance of escape; but it may help to save the treasure for the siech. By continuing on our present course we may win to Ruvno before the pursuing craft, yet we cannot hope to outspeed the mounted Tartar regiments ashore, who will be there before we can. By steering for the other shore, however, we could land one of our number before we were overhauled. This man could make his way through the thick woods that lie along this way without being seen, and perchance he could regain the ten thousand on their march by midday, when they could return to the river. It might be that the treasure could be recovered by such means. What think you?"

  "Let us try it, honorable sir," cried the girl eagerly, "and by landing both the young Cossacks, the chance of success would be doubled."

  "That would leave no one on the skiff to protect you, Mirovna Chere-vaty," objected Ostalim, who was loath to leave the girl to the mercy of the Tartar folk to whom compassion is an unknown word.

  "It would be better for you to remain, Ostalim," rejoined the old man, with a glance at the pursuing craft astern, "for you are looked upon with suspicion at the siech, and a message by you would be worth less than naught. No, Rashov must go, and God speed him on his journey."

  "I would be a fat swine," cried Rashov indignantly, "to leave you to fall into the hands of the villainy over yonder. In faith, you had all better come-"

  "And abandon the treasure, Rashov?" put in Mirovna. "No, the advice of the gray-haired sir is always better than the words of youth. After the fate of my father, and the destruction of Ruvno which must come soon at the hands of the Tartars, my danger is a very little thing. We shall all pray that you may win through to the ten thousand and tell them what ills are endured by the Cossack folk."

  "It grieves me," mourned the honest Cossack, "to do this, and should I succeed, I swear by the holy church bells that your graves shall be as thickly adorned with Tartar heads as a pudding with raisins. The Koshe-voi Ataman is as wily in war as a wolf, and he will see that vengeance is not denied any Cossacks who die today. Only I would not see the beautiful head of Mirovna swing at a Tartar's belt by those raven locks, and friend Ostalim here, who is the son of a Koshevoi Ataman-"

  "Ha, is that truth?" The old rower peered at Ostalim, as he guided the skiff nearer the shore. "I thought that his face recalled another to my mind-one of a brave warrior."

  "Koshevoi Ataman Dmitri Ostalim was my father," said Ostalim proudly. "You can see his name on this sword, which was once a terror to Tartar and Pole in his hand."

  The old rower glanced at the inlaid scabbard and a smile of recollection warmed his lined face. "It is in truth the sword of the Bogatyr* Ostalim," he cried. "Why does not the son acknowledge the father? If the war chief of the siech had seen this sword he might have believed your tale."

  "There was no time to show the sword," explained Ostalim regretfully. "And as for not speaking of it in Ruvno, certain Cossacks with jewels and tassels on their trappings mocked at my plain coat and dusty boots, and I

  *"Hero."

  would not tell them my father's name until I had shown them that I was in truth fitted to take the place of the son of Koshevoi Ataman Dmitri Ostalim."

  "That was wrong, Ostalim," said Mirovna sadly. "If you had told my father he would have trusted you instead of the gallant from Kiev and perhaps they might not have fallen into the ambush, for you are a brave warrior."

  "In spite of my dusty boots?"

  "In spite of them, and your rough manners."

  For a second the brown eyes of Ostalim looked into the black eyes of the girl, and though the sadness still lay on her heart, it beat to a faster tune. For Ostalim thought of the little hand that waved him a greeting from the carriage as he stood in the door of the shop, and Mirovna thought of the strong arms that had picked her up lightly and set her down at her door two nights ago.

  Then their thoughts were broken into by a cry from the rower, who had steered the ship to within arm's length of the rushes along the shore. "Jump!" he cried to Rashov, who stood poised on the rail. The big Cossack gave a farewell wave of his hand to Ostalim and the girl, and sprang in the water with a splash like a small whale. Finding firm footing, he waded ashore through the reeds, and turned to wave to the boat again before he plunged into the woods.

  As he did so, the brush parted behind him, and four horsemen spurred forward. Mirovna gave a shrill cry of warning and Rashov wheeled, drawing his sword, just as the horsemen closed in upon him. For a moment those in the boat saw the giant Cossack defend himself ably, warding off the blows of his enemies, and even throwing one from his horse. Rashov tried to spring on the loose mount, but as he swung his big bulk upward, one of the hostile sabers glanced off his head, sending hat and rider headlong to earth, where both lay passive.

  After watching the boat for a moment, the horsemen wheeled and rode back into the wood. As they did so Ostalim gave an exclamation. He had recognized, by their gold-broidered cloaks and tasseled hats, the same men who had been so anxious for his death in the siech.

  How came the
y back to the Dnieper? Where had they left the others of their company? With a heart heavy for the fate of his friend, Ostalim turned to the river. Once more they were headed out to midstream, but their pursuers in the meanwhile had cut down the distance between them to a scant mile.

  "That was our last hope," said Mirovna sadly. "Poor Rashov—he fought nobly against a treacherous attack. Our enemies seem to be everywhere, and no Cossacks will come to our aid."

  "Can we win to Ruvno now, think you?" Ostalim inquired of the rower, but received a shake of the head for reply. It was easy to see that the other craft were gaining rapidly on them. The light wind had given place to little better than a calm, and the Tartars were urging their craft forward with oars which gave them a decided advantage. The light of hope which had gleamed for a while in Mirovna's eyes faded, and she bowed her dark head on her knees.

  "Death is a sore thing for a beautiful lady like that," said the rower, sighing, as he watched her; "while it comes to me as a rest from pain, it despoils her of a fair, full life. Would I could save her, for her father's sake."

  "Would I could save her for her own," Ostalim put in, his gaze fixed hungrily on the dark head, the slender shoulders in the silk smock, and the white hands clasped over the girl's knees.

  "There is no hope now," whispered the rower, bending closer, "and, as for those dogs of Tartars, I have been their prisoner for long years, and I know the river is better for the daughter of Ataman Cherevaty than their hands, so while you keep the devils away with your good sword, I shall cast her over the side and see that she does not rise again and-"

  "That will be a kindness, honorable sir," said the girl, smiling, to the men who had not thought that she heard what they said; "and it is what I wish," she added.

  Ostalim's heart rebelled as he heard the girl's words. Much as he valued the treasure of the siech, he found it in his heart to wish it at the bottom of the river, if the girl were safe. Fain would he have sheltered her from harm with his own body, if it were possible. It was a bitter thing to have found love, as Paul Ostalim had done, at the gates of death, and to see the fate of his beloved. But he could not wish it otherwise.

  In his anger he drew the blade that hung by his side and waved it at the approaching vessels that were now rapidly overhauling them.

  But the sword of Dmitri Ostalim availed little when the Tartars swept alongside. No sooner had the other ship come within two paces of the skiff than a dozen swarthy warriors sprang over the side to the deck of the smaller craft. So quick were they that Ostalim scarce had time to cut one man down before he was gripped on every side and flung to the deck under a struggling mass.

  The rower was seized in the act of throwing the girl from the side, and a heavy blow quieted his struggles. A sword flashed twice and the dogs were silent.

  Chapter VII The Real Reason

  For the second time in two days Paul Ostalim was bound hand and foot and at the mercy of his enemies. Only this time there was no stout Rashov to come to his assistance, and his plight was doubly hard to bear because of the nearness of Mirovna. The girl was not laid helpless in the bottom of the boat, like Ostalim; a stout rope around her waist bound her to the mast of the skiff, and her little fingers were powerless to untie the knot.

  The boat, looted of the gold chests, was ashore in a cove near the village of Ruvno, where it had been steered by the Tartars, who, to Ostalim's surprise, inflicted no further injury on them, but hurried off with the treasure across the river. The sail of the skiff, torn down by the invaders, covered the fore part of the vessel, and the oars had been recovered. Of the veteran ataman there was no sign.

  Ostalim had found, after a few brief struggles, that it was hopeless to try to lose his bonds. The sailors had tied him with cruel ingenuity so that each movement caused him pain. He stifled his involuntary groan, and managed to smile at Mirovna. The body of the girl drooped forward from the waist from weariness, so that the little gold cross around her white throat hung loosely against the coin necklace. Her dark hair flooded down to her waist, and she was forced to push it aside to look at Ostalim.

  Suddenly her eyes widened and she gave a quick gasp. The sound of a horse's gallop reached Ostalim's ears, coming rapidly nearer, and in another moment the rider dismounted by the boat. Mirovna shrank back against the mast and hid her face in her hands.

  "Why play at coquetry here?" said a mocking voice that rang familiarly in Ostalim's ears, although the speaker was hidden from him. "You had your fill of that at Kiev at my expense-"

  "Stepan Vertivitch!" cried Ostalim, in astonishment; "did you, too, escape from the Tartars in the swamp? We gave you up for lost."

  "So the good Paul Ostalim is still alive," purred the smooth voice. "Good—excellent! We can now repay him for that blow in the stable yard—in full. In this way two debts can be settled at once."

  Something in the words struck a chill to the helpless Cossack. That Vertivitch bore him ill will, he knew, but surely the man would help

  Mirovna, for, after all, he was a Cossack of Ruvno, and an intimate of old Cherevaty.

  "Your score with me, Stepan," he said quickly, "can be settled any time—here if you wish. Only help the lady Mirovna to get free of the Tartar ranks, and safely away from here where the danger is pressing. Perhaps there is security in Ruvno."

  "For me, yes," admitted Vertivitch, coming to the side of the boat where he could see Ostalim. As they exchanged glances the captive's brow darkened. A change had taken place in the dandy's attire. Instead of sheepskin hat and svitza, he now wore a bronze helmet surmounted by a white plume, a gold-broidered kaftan falling over his graceful shoulders, and a silk belt holding his sword.

  "Since when," demanded Ostalim wrathfully, "have you been a Pole, Stepan Vertivitch? Have the Tartars turned your heart to milk and forced you to renounce your church and people to save your life-"

  "Nay, Cossack," returned the other, smiling as he stroked his mustache; "you wrong both my intelligence and foresight. I have become a Pole of my own accord, months ago, when I lived with a gay group of comrades in Kiev who were planning to deal a heavy blow at Cossackdom. They needed a secret—a certain secret—to make their plan sure of success, and this I furnished them, at a price."

  "The hiding place of the war treasure!" cried Mirovna in horror; "you learned it from my father who trusted you. You betrayed it to the Tartars!"

  The dandy bowed gracefully, and stepped into the boat within arm's reach of the girl, regarding her admiringly, while she shook the heavy masses of hair about her face to escape his look.

  "You are more intelligent than our trusted friend here, Mirovna," admitted Vertivitch; "yet you have only yourself to thank for your present plight. You encouraged my suit in Kiev; then turned cold all of a sudden and scorned me——"

  "That is false, Stepan Vertivitch," cried the girl. "I did but smile on you once when we first met, before I knew of your wasteful, villainous life. Later, I told you that I had no love for you, yet you persisted, until I asked my father to bring me home to Ruvno."

  "You smiled on me, Mirovna," Vertivitch returned, pushing aside the dark hair to stare into her face which was turned toward him defiantly; "and that made you my one desire. I vowed to have you at all costs. When you came home, I completed my arrangements with the Poles, knowing that they might be useful to me, and came with you. But that pig of a Rashov joined us. Then at Ruvno I gained your father's support to my suit, and you spurned me in the stable yard before the maids. You set your gallant on me, the worthy smith——"

  "A lie," broke in Ostalim sternly. "If there were any name worse than traitor and dishonored warrior, you deserve it. If only these bonds were loosened I would oppose the naked hands of a true Cossack against a traitor's sword!"

  "So this rooster, as Rashov might say, can crow," sneered Stepan, fingering the hilt of his saber. "After all, good smith, what is a true Cossack? A dog that is taught to fight by his master the tsar; a robber, trained to plunder and lay waste the border march
es from childhood, until he roasts alive in the brazen belly of a Polish ox, or has his veins ripped out by a Tartar dagger. A dog's life!"

  "The life of a borzoi, Stepan," retorted Ostalim proudly. "The watchdog that guards the gates of our Russian land, and protects the Orthodox Church. The Cossacks live with sword in hand, and surely that is better than idling in silks and jewels in towns and hiring men to do your fighting. Your father, who was a great warrior, found no fault with such a life, and the tsar himself called him bogatyr."

  "Speak not of my father, and you value the few minutes that remain to you of life," snarled the other; "he is dead, taken captive by the Tartar folk a dozen years ago. I am free to avenge my slight at the white hands of Mirovna. Would you know how it happened?"

  "Tell me," said Mirovna suddenly, drawing deep breath. It seemed that out of the corner of her eye she had seen the heavy cloth of the sail move. "I would know it all."

  "Willingly," returned Vertivitch with a smile, sitting where he could watch Ostalim and the girl, with his back to the bow of the ship. "I would please you, Mirovna, for you are a beautiful slave, and you will adorn my home across the Dnieper as a flower blooms in a desert. Before I left Kiev I cast my fortunes, like dice, with those of the brave Poles who were my companions. But the dice were loaded, Mirovna; I saw to that. They left for the siech, disguised as Cossacks from the Polish border, and I swore to bring them the hiding place of the war treasure. This secret I got from your father the night in Ruvno, for he trusted me——"

  Mirovna drew back from the traitor with a cry of dismay. Again she saw the pile of sailcloth move.

  "According to our agreement," went on Vertivitch, "the Poles, who were in league with the common enemies of Cossackdom, the Tartars, arranged to have our wily allies from across the river waylay Cherevaty and the party from Ruvno. In this way I entered the ranks of the Tartars, only to find that the gold treasure was gone from its hiding place. Our scheme was working well, the ten thousand dogs from the siech were across the river, and my friends, the Poles, were with them, watching everything that occurred. Four of them returned to tell of your unlucky visit to the camp, and how the wise Koshevoi Ataman had put you in the stocks.