Swords From the East (24 page)

"Die then," snarled the Tiger, "as Temujin died-"

A javelin cast by the chief's attendant clashed against his shield, but what stayed his hand was the sight of the sand stirring at the edge of Temujin's crumpled and blazing tent. The sand heaved and fell aside as if an enormous mole were rising to the surface, but instead of a mole a blackened face was revealed by the glow of the fire. Presently the body of a man followed the face, and Temujin climbed out of the hole he had dug in the loose sand while the arrows slashed through his yurt.

He reached behind him and drew out a bow and a fistful of arrows. Kneeling almost in the flames, and half-screened by the whirling smoke, he began to loose shafts at the five enemies who still remained in the saddle.

"Ride him down!" cried the man in the bearskin, warding off Chepe Noyon's belated stroke.

His men started to obey, but one passed too near Subotai and had his skull shattered by a blow of the long ax. Another was knocked out of his saddle by one of Temujin's shafts, and the others cast their torches down and shouted for aid.

Meanwhile, Mingan had availed himself of the moment's respite to free Subotai's piebald pony that was straining at its reins before the Buffalo's tent. He rushed up to the Khan, who climbed into the saddle of the tall horse as reinforcements came up to their assailants.

Chepe Noyon was forced back from his prey and the three warriors formed around Temujin.

"Hai, ahatou, koke Mongku-hai!"

The Khan of the Mongols roared his battle-cry, his voice carrying above the tumult. Here and there a wounded Mongol fought his way toward him. A gur-khan rode up on a sweating horse, followed by a single warrior.

For every one of his men that came, three enemies appeared, and Temujin, rising in his stirrups, saw that the butchery of the Mongols was nearly completed. His eyes glowed with a mad fire, but he saw the folly of making a stand.

"Follow me to Podu's tent!" he ordered, wheeling his horse.

"Podu is slain," Chepe Noyon cried, reining his pony beside his chief, "by one of these jackals of the night." But Temujin did not alter his course. With his handful of followers he reached the wagons of the Gipsies, the foemen close behind, hindered in their pursuit by lack of torches. Before the women's tent a pair of Podu's tribesmen were struggling with a group of the riders.

The rush of the Mongols scattered these, Subotai's ax and Chepe Noyon's sword working havoc. Temujin tossed his reins to Mingan, dismounted, and, thrusting past the exhausted guards, entered the tent. In a moment he appeared, carrying Burta, bound and gagged, in his arms. As he did so, the pursuers rounded the pavilion and loosed a flight of arrows.

The gur-khan and one of the Gipsies fell, pierced by the missiles, and Mingan, as he assisted Temujin with his burden into the saddle of the piebald, rose in his stirrups with a cry. Something seared his breast, and a warm flood rose in his throat. The vista of the tents and the moonlit sky whirled and tossed before his eyes.

He was aware of Subotai's arm that drew him out of his saddle, to the back of another horse. Then the air rushed past his ears. He coughed, and pain wracked him so that everything disappeared in a red mist.

He felt vaguely the motion of a galloping horse, and in the mist beheld Chepe Noyon dismount, run beside a riderless horse, and mount again without stopping. He wondered what it was all about-saw, presently, Burta sitting astride the Arab, her long hair streaming over her back, and on every hand the wide sweep of the desert, shining in the radiance of a crimson moon. And then-nothing.

The red glory of dawn over his head, the chill of dawn on his outer skin, and burning heat in his chest and throat-of these things Mingan became conscious, but chiefly of an all-enveloping thirst. Although he made no movement, his head was being raised by degrees until he looked into the strained, gaunt face of Temujin.

The Khan had Mingan's head on his knee, and was holding to the lips of the wounded man his leather hunting cap filled with water. Mingan drank and straightway coughed, the sweat starting on his forehead. But his thirst was assuaged. The dark eyes of his friend searched his face keenly.

"Burta, my wife-to-be," said Temujin, "the soul of this orkhon is near to the spirit world. He has need of your hand and the care of the Gipsies. Abide with him in this place, and leave him not until I come.

Mingan tried to turn his head to see Burta, yet could not. He wondered whither the multitude of the camp had vanished and why. Presently, Temu jin and Chepe Noyon alone were working over a long figure stretched on a saddle cloth beside him. This was Subotai, he fancied, and his two companions were pulling into place a bone dislocated in the giant's arm. Subotai watched them at their labor, chewing his lip. His glance wandered to Mingan and he grinned widely, brushing the dust from his eyes.

"Eh, the hard blows were not long in coming. Yet we left a trail of dead foemen along the length of the camp-"

He shut his lips as the bone snapped into place, and Temujin rose.

"I must ride to the Three Rivers where my people await me," said the khan. "My enemies wax stronger, and few stand near me." His dark face lighted with a secret exultation. "Yet have I found three heroes, and now I know the name of my foe-aye, of him who smote my camp."

Burta questioned, and stamped her foot angrily when he shook his head, saying nothing more. Finally, Mingan heard her weeping when the men had left.

"It was the men of Prester John who slew Temujin's Mongols, and now there will be war in the Gobi," she said.

Fever-bred dreams tormented him. He was standing again on the Great Wall of Cathay, looking at the western plain over which hung the red ball of the sun. Against the wall the riders of the Horde were surging. Little by little they were forcing the gate that barred their way into Cathay, and Mingan sought to throw stones down on them. But his hands would not move. They were smiling at him, waving bared swords in the dust-cloud under the wall and-passing through the gate. Mingan was wearing an imperial robe, with the dragon curled on his breast, heavy with yellow gold.

It was the robe worn by members of his dynasty when death's hour was at hand. Scarcely had he perceived this than the sun dropped out of sight and darkness came on the world.

Again Mingan looked out at a campfire over which a cauldron boiled merrily, and near which crouched an old woman, shredding roots and herbs in her hands. The shadow of the woman was thrown against a great rock, and Mingan fancied that she was a witch brewing eternal torment for him over the red fire.

He cried out and perceived Burta standing by him. The girl's hand, cool as a leaf of the forest, was on his forehead, as against his lips she pressed a bowl of something warm and astringent. Mingan coughed and swallowed a little. And presently the welcome darkness came again.

VII

Jamuka Is Amused

A barbed arrow through the lung is one of the worst possible wounds, and only Burta, and the Gipsies who came to serve her in a rock-lined gully of the desert, knew how hard had been the struggle to bring Mingan back to life. When the fever left him, Mingan lay on his side for days before strength came to him and he could talk.

Meanwhile he saw that he was hidden near a well, below the level of the surrounding plain, around which, like inanimate figures, stood pinnacles of red and gray sandstone. That it was midwinter he knew by the cold of the nights, and the stars that circled over his head.

"You are like a man of bones," observed Burta critically, "and not a hero at all, except that you have a fine beard."

There were hollows in her cheeks and shadows under her fine eyes. As she talked she stroked the head of a gyrfalcon chained to its perch near the well. Beside her, on her sleeping furs, was stretched a brown dog with a sharp muzzle and inquisitive eyes.

"When my people dare not come to the well," she explained, "Chepe Noyon and Mukuli hunt with me, and we do not lack for hares or wild geese. This is Chepe Noyon-" she nodded at the hawk-"I call him that because he is so quick and bad-tempered. Mukuli is the dog-he growls just like the old Khan and likes to lie near the fire."

Mingan smiled.

"Why do you stay here, daughter of Podu? I am whole and well."

"You are not. Half a moon will pass before you walk about, and another moon before you ride a horse. But I am glad you can talk. Mukuli is wise, but he agrees to everything I say."

"Being wise," nodded Mingan.

"Hum. Temujin never does what I say and he is wiser than anyone-"

"Except the man in the bear's head."

Burta frowned a little and stood up to look out of their shelter.

"Then you have seen him, too, Mingan? My people gather news for me as squirrels gather acorns, and they say the chief with the bearskin has been seen in the desert near here. They say the omens have been many; vultures have been seen in the sky at dawn, and a raven has made a nest in a dead pine. The tribesmen have wintered close to their ordus, their chief's camps; rumors are many that blood will run freely in the Gobi and the bones of men whiten on the battlefield."

She sighed and bit her lip.

"I hate Temujin," she added fiercely. "He has been away for so long, and no message has come from him."

"Yet you abide here, as he ordered, to await his coming."

"Kai!" She poked at the sables resentfully. "You were too ill to be moved."

Mingan noticed, however, that Burta continued to make her home at the well, although dark-skinned men, adorned more often than not with the spoil of the desert caravans, rode up from time to time to urge her to seek a place of greater safety.

One day she returned from a hunt with the falcon and her eyes were shining. She had met, it seemed, the old woman who had helped her nurse Mingan, and had news in plenty. The Mongols had not been idle during the winter. They had been joined by several regiments of the reindeer people, brought by Subotai, and Temujin had won over the famous spearmen, the Merkets, to his standard. Then, during a blizzard, he had marched against the Tatars and surrounded Mukuli in his ordu.

There had been a brief fight when Temujin went to the old khan and asked him to give in to his power. Mukuli had growled, and then fell to laughing aloud.

"'My word is not smoke, 0 Khan,' he said, 'and aforetime I swore that I would join you when you proved yourself good metal. Verily, no man has taken Mukuli unaware before now,' he swore, 'and I will be your man in all things."'

Burta pondered smilingly.

"I think Mukuli yearned toward Temujin at the feast in my father's camp when he overthrew the Turk."

She patted the muzzle of the brown dog, who was the self-appointed watchman of their covert.

So, at the end of that winter the northern half of the Horde-the Mongols, Tatars, Tungusi, and Merkets-was divided from the southern half, the Keraits and the Jelairs of Jamuka. The Master of Plotting, although Temujin's cousin, had proclaimed that he was sworn to fellowship with Prester John, and must side with the Christians. Temujin sent messengers to Prester John to say that no quarrel was between them, nor should they take up the sword against each other-who had been allies in the past. But the messengers were slain on the way, and the Mongol outposts brought back word of the Kerait's preparations for war. So Temujin held a council to muster his full power.

"He gave Mukuli back the gold tablet of an orkhon, and entreated him kindly," Burta added, "and then-"

"Temujin did well-"

"Nay, there is no Temujin, no Man of Iron now. Ai, he who raced horses and snared hawks with me when I was a child-is no more."

Mingan started.

"What mean you?"

"His khans at the council gave him a new name because now he has truly earned the leadership of the Horde. They named him the Great Khan, Genghis Khan."

Wrapped in his thoughts, Mingan did not hear the slight sound of a footstep nearby; nor did he notice the sudden uprising of the brown dog, who sniffed the air and whined. Temujin had grown at his side from boy to man and from man to master. Probably this was what had earned him the hatred of Prester John, of the Christians.

In Cathay there was a proverb that there could not be two suns in the sky, nor two emperors in the land. Prester John had sought to slay Temujin, or, as Mingan must think of him now, Genghis Khan; failing that, the Christians had declared war on him-

Mingan sighed. He should have rejoiced at the good fortune that cut the Horde in twain and started a great feud in the Gobi, because the Horde was the enemy of his dynasty-of Cathay itself. Had not Mingan come into the desert with Genghis Khan to study the weakness of this enemy, and profit by it? But it was hard for the Cathayan prince to think of Genghis Khan as aught but Temujin, who had befriended him. He found himself wishing for the Tiger and the Buffalo. He wanted to talk things over with them.

The brown dog barked once, angrily, and looked over his shoulder at his mistress.

"Be quiet, Mukuli-I will not play with you." Burta frowned at the sable furs on which she sat, chin on hand, her brown eyes brooding. "Now that Temujin has become Genghis Khan, he takes no thought of the daughter of Podu. For five moons I have awaited his coming as he bade me at this place, and-I hate Genghis Khan."

She struck at the rich furs contemptuously.

"Kai, I will await him no longer, and I will take my people to the Christians, so that he will learn the Gipsies are not to be despised-

She sprang to her feet, hands on her breast, eyes wide with swift alarm. Thus encouraged, the brown dog raced forward, barking.

A man, walking quietly, had entered the gully and stood between two rocks, smiling at her words. It was Jamuka. Mingan noticed that he wore new, silvered, chain mail and a velvet kaftan, and that a few yards away a dozen of his Jelair tribesmen had come into view, fully armed with javelins and bows.

"So, little vixen," observed Jamuka, much amused, "this is where you have run to earth! My men espied you against the skyline an hour ago, when we were following the trail of some of your Gipsies that circled around this well. May Allah cast me down, but I was hoping for a sight of you before we don helmets and mount for battle-"