Swords From the East (46 page)

"Peace, dogs," cried the boy. "This is the starshim, the chief of the Cossacks. Let him have honor."

Unheeding, they tore away belt, sword, gold-chased scabbard, rings, and the gold chain from which hung the ikon. Alashan lashed them with words, and, as they were moving away, one turned back and laid the chain with its cross on the body of the Cossack.

Then the others stopped, and presently all the spoil was returned to the body, which at Alashan's direction was picked up to be carried before Ubaka Khan.

The Khan was not found until his tent was pitched that night and he rode in, during a tumult of nakers and trumpets, to throw off his steel cap and sit by the fire. Alashan waited until Ubaka had inspected silently the body of his enemy.

After that Ubaka called for food, and the boy stood until his father had eased his hunger. The Khan had not eaten for two days. Alashan was quivering with desire to pour out his story of the fight at the gorge. He wanted, too, to point out that Zebek Dortshi had been first at the Ukim but had waited until Alashan attacked before entering the battle.

Ubaka sat gazing into the fire, his knotted hands resting on his massive knees. He lifted his head and looked at his son.

"I have been to the gorge of the Ukim. I have heard the tale of the skirmish. Zebek Dortshi, who is a leader among a thousand, I have rewarded with foxskins and inlaid daggers, with pieces of red leather and saddles sewn with pearls that we took from the Cossack camp. He did well."

Alashan's heart sank, and he waited for a word concerning himself. Ubaka was pleased with the daring exhibited by the boy, but his hoarse voice was gruff with displeasure.

"My son, a soldier can be reckless and as foolish as a kulan, a wild ass. But a leader of men must think wisely when the swordstrokes begin. You are not yet a man arrived at man's estate."

Alashan, too, began to study the fire.

"The time is not, when my noyons will lift their hands to their eyes and say that you are a true son of the Khan-a falcon of the eagle line. I have spoken. Go!"

In the tent of Norbo, Nadesha came to Billings bringing the news of Mitrassof's death, and the capture of the Ukim. With the words of the girl went the last hope of rescue for the Englishman.

Billings thought this over far into the night, and fell to work on his map with new vigor, noting in the location of the Ukim.

Chapter IV

The Wood Ashes That Turned into a Tree

It was an evening early in spring, and the odor of wet marshland was in the air when Nadesha slipped past the tents of the Wolf clan and made her way toward the one spot of the camp that was forbidden her. This was the yurt of Loosang.

Ever since she had been a child-not so long ago-the girl of Norbo had longed to see inside this solitary wagon tent that was fashioned of purple cloth instead of the usual felt or hides and stood on a brightly painted cart. From its depths she often had watched the lama emerge clad sometimes in yellow, sometimes in purple with a scarlet scarf and the cubelike black hat that stretched his naturally great stature to more than the length of two Tatar spears. She had listened with awe to the note of the lama's trumpet that could be heard half an hour's ride away. Sometimes she fancied the eyes of the priest had dwelt on her.

But this night Nadesha planned to gain entrance to the yurt. She would match her wits against the lama's, and try to learn what the servant of the Dalai Lama had in store for the Horde. For now the Torguts had left behind the part of the steppe known to them and were nearing the edge of the unknown spaces where Loosang must guide. In a bag she held the last of the heavy Russian money, copper and silver, that still remained in their household. Now that the ground was soft underfoot, at the edge of the high steppe of the Kangar, all superfluous weight was being cast from the loads of the Horde.

And Loosang had declared that this money, useless now to the Tatars, was welcome in his yurt, useful in his ceremonial. He pointed out that by the favor of Bon and the gods of which he was priest, the Tatars had overthrown the Cossacks at the Ukim and passed the terrible Torgai safely on a floating bridge of bundles of giant reed.

On her way to the lama's wagon, Nadesha wheedled more copper coins here and there in the groups that clustered together on the wet ground.

The yurt of Loosang stood alone at the end of a red clay gully, and within fifty paces of it Nadesha was set upon by savage dogs that ripped her skirt and would have tasted her blood if a huge voice had not called them back from the tent.

Nadesha advanced, laid her bundle on the wooden platform, and kneeled against the wagon tongue until from the corners of her eyes she saw that the bundle had disappeared. Still she waited.

"What do you wish, daughter of Norbo?"

"I am cold, chutuktu, and there is a fire within. I have brought you a great deal of money."

As she spoke Nadesha shivered, because she half-believed the dogs would be set upon her, and the dark gorge was not a pleasant place.

"Have you a message from the Khan or your father?"

"Would a noyon send speech by a woman?"

"Wait, then."

It was quite dark before Loosang opened the flap of his tent. The girl's quick ears had caught the clink of coins. She wondered what Loosang did with the Russian money. He did not carry it along with him in the wagon, which would have been burdened by the extra weight. The Tatars were sure of that. They believed the coins disappeared during the ritual of the lama. Nadesha wondered.

When she climbed through the opening she gave an exclamation of surprise. A small fire glowed on some stones with a reddish hue. From it came a sweetish odor from some dried roots. Behind the fire sat what seemed to be a painted statue, draped in a yellow cassock, with waistcoat of cloth of gold, and purple apron. A high hat gleamed with lacquer work above a mask-like face.

Nadesha knew that still greater emotion was expected of her, and she pressed her face to the floor, clasping her hands behind her black coils of hair. Loosang's eyes scanned the slender shoulders of the girl, noting her supple arms and the smooth skin of her neck.

"You did not come hither to sit by a fire," he said slowly. "I have been expecting you. Sit by my side and speak when you are ready."

There were cushions near the lama, and Nadesha felt very comfortable. Her cheeks had fallen in a little from hunger and her eyes were overbright. She had put on a chaplet of pearls and a silk coat and washed her skin in oil and rose water.

"If I wished it," Loosang observed, "you would not leave the tent on your feet, and the dogs would soon make of you a thing of knitted bones. Two moons ago you went against my will when you saved the giaour his life. Why did you do that?"

"I am holding the captive for a price."

"It must be a big price. The day after Zebek Dortshi attacked the giaour you sent your father to Ubaka Khan. Norbo asked the Khan to declare to the Horde that the life of your captive must be spared. What is the price?"

"Protection for me."

"From whom?"

"From the gods, and especially Bon."

For some time Loosang gazed into the fire, occasionally placing upon it another root or stick of incense wood. When he spoke his high voice was tinged with suspicion.

"What makes you seek my protection, daughter of Norbo?"

Nadesha was aware that she was being studied covertly. She cradled her chin in her hands and pouted mischievously.

"Kai! Are not the gods greater than the Khan, who is a man?"

"Truly. Ubaka Khan has caused much suffering among his people. Seventy thousand souls have gone out, like candles in the wind, since the march began. In each family one lies sick. The wolves and the vultures follow the trail of the Horde. Many more will die."

"Of course." Nadesha nodded confidentially.

"Food and fodder are at an end. The clans hunt and pillage as they can. The men of the Khan's own cavalry are murmuring." Loosang knew that Nadesha was shrewd; he had watched the girl and found her to his liking. "So you think the day will soon be at hand when you must seek aid of the gods?"

"Aye," the girl answered. "The day will come, within this moon that is now new. Then the Horde will cross the Kangar Desert; at the end of the desert they will turn to you to lead the way. Whither?"

Loosang felt a sting of suspicion. But the girl at his side was open-eyed, and her brow was without guile. Still, he answered craftily.

"Whatever will happen is the will of the gods. For nine days I shall sleep, and my dreams will search out the far places of the spirit world so that I may know what is ordained." Loosang thought for a moment. "If the giaour is not given into my hands by Ubaka Khan at the end of the sleep, evil will come against the Horde. Aye, for one thing-" his hand caught the girl's wrist-"Alashan will be slain by your prisoner."

Nadesha tossed her head.

"My thoughts are not for the son of the Khan."

"Nor for the lion-haired giaour."

Here Nadesha took refuge in a smile. Instead of finding out things from the lama, the secrets of her heart were being probed. When the Persian Tatar smiled it warmed the blood of men, for her lips were a lure.

"True, my lama."

No more. But the smile and the words kindled the imagination of the priest.

"Nor do you love the Persian khan, Zebek Dortshi, daughter of Norbo."

"Again, most true. Though Zebek Dortshi will fly higher and faster than Alashan. A moon ago at the Ukim the noyon schemed so cleverly that the son of the Khan was within a sword's edge of being slain. Is it not so?"

Suspicion having passed from the mind of Loosang, he did not deny this. Nadesha half-caught her breath, for Alashan had told her about the act of Zebek Dortshi at the gorge and her wit had penetrated its motive.

"It is you, little dove," he whispered almost to himself, "who will look down upon a kingdom at your feet, and your petal-fingers shall play with jewels."

His long hand went out and touched Nadesha's forehead. It was as if a snake had crawled across her face, but she did not move. Only when the hand crept down to her throat and lingered on the vein of blood that was like a pulse, she spoke.

"I could love one greater than the giaour. At the end of this moon I will deliver my prisoner to you."

"Takil-tebihou-the bargain is struck."

"Then where is my kingdom?" Throwing back her head, the girl laughed softly at the surprise of the priest.

To play on the fancy of Nadesha, Loosang described to her the temple of Bon that stood at the edge of the Kangar upon a wide river that flowed down from the mountains of Tibet-the house of Bon, where the face of the great god peered out from the cliff itself, and monks, both men and women, passed their lives at the palace of the god.

They who gave up their souls to Bon, the Destroyer of earthly things, would taste paradise. In the place of their worship were paintings as old as the memory of man. The floors were jade, covered with silken rugs from Bokhara. The masters of the monks were warriors who wore gold and scarlet and carried standards as tall as the trees. Jewels were in their saddles, for they were servants of the Dalai Lama, who was the living Buddha, reborn during three times three thousand years.

And the master of the lamasery-

"I am chutuktu, abbot, of that lamasery which is at Sonkor, on the edge of the Kangar. And I have been lama of the Black Kirghiz, the greatest of the Tatar tribes of Asia."

So spoke Loosang, his breath warm against the hair of the girl. He had the gift of making others see clearly what he painted with words.

"When I ride back to Sonkor the sakyas will carry candles before me on the terraces. A chutuktu is a prince, for the Dalai Lama is a king. I shall go back-" just for a second he hesitated-"when my work here is done."

This time it was Nadesha who leaned forward to feed the fire. A startling thought had come to her, and she wished to hide her face. If the lama should guess what was in her mind, she would not see the light of the next sunrise, nor would the Master of the Herds know what fate had befallen his daughter, for Nadesha had come secretly to the yurt of Loosang.

Even as she bent down she was seized in an iron grasp and pulled back so that she lay across the knees of the priest. The face of Loosang had changed, as if he had put on one of his masks. His small eyes burned.

But it was passion and not suspicion that had stung him to seize the girl. So Nadesha saw in a flash. Yet his touch upon her neck and shoul der brought the color flooding into her cheeks. She twisted in his grasp, whipping out a knife from her khalat.

Before Loosang could move, she had placed the point of the curved dagger against his throat and pressed it in a little. The lama snarled angrily as his head, perforce, bent back. Then the knife was withdrawn and he saw Nadesha sitting beside him quietly, the dagger secreted again.

"You are a fool and a child!" he ejaculated, the harsh Tibetan accent creeping into his words. "No one has drawn steel against me, who cannot be hurt by steel."

The girl reflected that he seemed unwilling to put the matter to a test.

"No one has laid hand on me before this," she responded calmly. "Now it is in my mind that you lied to me about the kingdom of Sonkor where the Kirghiz are-"

"Lied? I?" Loosang, for the first time, was answering blindly the thrusts of the Tatar. He laughed shrilly. "Nay, your own eyes will see it. I will take you there."

"That is part of the bargain."

"Good. It shall be done, and sooner than you think."

For his part, the lama had tasted a little of the beauty of Nadesha. Now he meant to possess her. In this he could be patient. As for Nadesha, she had had a vision of a great doom preparing for the clans, for the Wolf clan and her father and the Khan. It was no more than a vision as yet, a mingling of the power of Loosang, the power of the Black Kirghiz, and the wiles of Zebek Dortshi. She felt as if she stood at the edge of a pit that was being dug.

But there was nothing that she could say to Norbo. There was only one thing to do-to be taken to Sonkor and there to learn what truth was in her fears. So, to this end, she prepared to play her part. She even thought of the curious disappearance of the money that had been brought to Loosang.