Swords From the Desert (10 page)

"Death's servants. Aye, bringing slavery for thee, and for me the shroud that is never to be cast off."

Swiftly I told her of the desire of my lord Menas and the watch that had been kept upon her.

"I know!" she cried impatiently. "There were spies-a Persian who watched. Yet the Domastikos would never dare carry a maid from the patriarch's garden-"

"Ha-these Greeks dare not go back to their lord without thee."

For this must have been the party sent to bear her to Menas. They had looked for Arbogastes and, finding him not, had ventured within the gar den. Then, hearing my voice and knowing me, they had sought to slay me first.

Only one path was open to us. The house was in a corner of the high wall. To climb such a wall with armed men baying at heel were folly-if there were not others without. To abide in the house were witless. Plainly it was written that I should be as a shield to this maid. Had she not been thrust into my keeping? Surely we had shared the salt, though she thought little of that.

My safety lay in mounting at once the gray horse Khutb and springing out upon them. And if I did this, leaving the maid to the mercies of the angered Greeks, I must taste everlasting shame.

I closed the house door and barred it. Taking the girl's hand in mine, I ran into the rear enclosure where Khutb was stabled. At once the slender courser trotted toward us, snuffling and making great play of biting and springing away.

"Taghun-taghun!" I cried at him. "Be at peace; there will be work enough for thee!"

Bridling him, I forced the ring-bit between his teeth, listening the while to the Greeks pounding on the house door. The hag and the peasant had roused, and I bade them pull down the bars of the stable yard and then seek safety over the wall-little it availed them, I fear. There was not time for the saddle.

A Greek ran into the yard as I lifted the maiden to the back of Khutb.

"Hold to my girdle and lower thy head!" So I sprang up, speaking to the gray horse and drawing tight the rein.

Eh, he was a horse among many. Like an arrow from its string he darted through the gate in the fence, the Greek leaping aside. My erstwhile charger, the pot-bellied, cow-hoofed white stallion, would have taken an arrow's flight to plunge to full career. There was still a harder feat in store for Khutb.

The spearmen were standing about the bridge and door, so I reined aside and put Khutb at the canal. Ha, that was a sight and a delight! He pricked his ears, shortened his stride, without swerve or check, and rose into the air-I gripping with knees and hand in his mane, for the girl, offbalance, clung heavily.

Khutb landed daintily, with not a hand's breadth to spare. And then, once more, I urged him to trot and gallop, sweeping along the deserted path that led to the garden gate.

A shout went up behind us, but the gate was far, and we had passed through before the Greeks stationed there could see our faces in that dim light.

And so we rode forth into the alleys of Constantinople.

To the khan of the Bokharians, where lay my rug and horse-the big white charger-I took my way, finding the inn deserted, or nearly so. The Muslimin had fled the city, and the Armenian linen workers, and the Syrian bath-men who frequented the khan, were out thieving and defending their thefts. It was also dark. I placed Irene in my compartment over the stable court and bade her sleep.

To the dog of a Bokharian who had leered at our incoming I gave a piece of gold and a warning to hold his tongue, and then I groomed Khutb and fed him a little barley. Then I rubbed down the white charger without haste, and bridled him and waited for the coming of a man to serve me in the thing I planned to do.

"YAllah! 0 madman-0 miscreant!"

So cried Arbogastes when he ran into the courtyard seeking me, no longer drowsy but red with fear and haste.

"What has come upon thee, my brother?" I saluted him.

"Misfortune-calamity. Such calamity. And thou-breeder of woehatcher of evil-thou hast heaped all this upon my head!"

In truth he lacked his plumed helmet, and his hair was disordered. In a breath he told me what had befallen him. The Greek who kept the tavern where he had lain in sleep, this dog of a Greek doubtless fearing the anger of the Domastikos, had wakened him and sent him forth, when Menas's men came seeking through the bazaar quarters. Arbogastes fled, not knowing what had happened-only hearing the curses heaped upon his name and mine by the searchers.

"It was thy doing, Khalil," he howled. "Thou didst beguile me and send me from the garden, and steal away the girl from my lord, and the horse as well. It was all thy doing!"

"By the eyes of , I did not plan it. It was to keep life in me I fled, on this horse."

What need to swear to truth? Arbogastes merely raged the more and mustered courage to threaten.

"No more tricks, Khalil! Did I not befriend thee and earn thee honor with Menas? A fox is not more deceitful than thee. Now am I dead and by torture, unless-give me the girl!"

I rubbed down the stallion's flank with clean straw and thought for a moment, Arbogastes waxing bolder and fingering the sword he never meant to draw.

"How many are searching for us?" I asked.

"All! Every warrior and slave of the palace. Ten thousand. My lord Menas rides from street to street casting about for the wench, and all the blood hath left his face-nay there is enough spilled under his sword this night. His torches are in every corner. They will be in this quarter of the merchants in an hour."

Verily, the Greek is a man of strange moods. That Menas should forget the siege and the throne to cast about for a masterless maid! Yet he had not altogether forgotten.

"And in an hour thou shalt taste of his tortures, Arbogastes. Had I not been in the garden at twilight instead of thee, ere now they had shrouded thee."

The Persian wiped his thick lips and ceased to threaten.

"What road is open to us?"

"0 brother," I made response, "the way is dark for me, but thou art a swordsman, a man of courage and a favorite to boot. There is a way for thee to life and reward."

"How?" he asked, suspicious and fearful at once.

"Canst find Menas?"

He shivered, saying that of all things that were the easiest done, the hardest to avoid. Upon this I summoned the Bokharian who had been trying to hear what we said, and bade him bring reed pen and ink and the cleanest parchment he had.

And upon this parchment, while that precious twain stared and wondered, I wrote as follows:

To the high and merciful Lord Menas, the Chamberlain, greetings-I Khalil, the Badawan, have fulfilled my pledge to thee, and in token I send thee the horse that was promised. I have the gray racer, and may God be the judge of thy promise tome!

"What says the writing?" Arbogastes scowled at the Arabic characters. I told him, and bade him take the charger to his master and earn reward.

"He will demand tidings of the Frankish maid-and thee."

"Tell him, then, the truth. Thou hast seen me here, and the girl is in my cubby above. This khan-samah hath seen her."

Taking the scroll, Arbogastes rolled it up and thrust it into his belt; then he grasped the rein of the imperial charger and stood first on one foot, then on the other. His beard bristled in a grin.

"Look here, Khalil-surely thou wilt not tarry here, to be cut open like a cornered hare! Tell me where thou hast a mind to hide, and I swear to thee by my honor and the graves of the Companions that I will lead Menas away, to seek thee in another quarter. Arbogastes can be like a fox in wiles."

He tried to look shrewd and honest at the same time, which is no easy matter. "Since thou hast asked," I made answer, "tell him to search for her, and he will, at the church of the Greek patriarch."

Arbogastes grimaced and looked twice at me. In such an hour as this my lord Menas might send his men into the garden of the Nazarenes, but to force his way into the church itself would be sacrilege and would arouse against him the flame of fanaticism.

No sooner had the Persian swaggered off than I beckoned toward the Bokharian, who had been slinking about the courtyard like a wolf around a sheepfold. Him I ordered to hide away the gray horse Khutb, even as he knew me to be a man of my word. If the horse were found by the Greeks, he would live to regret it at my hand-if the horse were well hidden, he should have from me a pound of gold.

We could no longer keep Khutb at our hand, and the departure of the splendid steed saddened me.

To Irene I explained that Menas's searchers were between us and the church-if not on guard at the church itself-and so that way was closed to us. From my garments I selected the cloth-of-silver robe of honor that the emperor had bestowed on me, also a loose cloak and a small cap of Greek cut. This I bade her put on. No maiden of such beauty would be safe in the streets of Constantinople on the morrow; nor could she hope to hide longer from Menas's spies in woman's dress.

Though loose, the garment did not look awry on her, for we were both of slender build. The flood of her yellow hair was hidden by cap and cloak, and so-the Bokharian being out of the way-no one saw me venture forth preceded by a handsome youth in nobleman's attire.

"Where can we go?" the maid asked me, as she tried to match her step to my stride.

"Whither God opens a way," I said, and there was indeed no other course but that.

So it came to pass that we beheld something that was near a miracle. After dawn we found ourselves near the line of the great city wall, whither companies of men-at-arms were hurrying. No heed was given us, and we passed up one of the tower stairs with a throng of Tatar archers.

The assault of the city had begun.

Before us lay the blue circle of the sublime port, and the galleys and palanders and small craft of the Venetians. Far off to the left we could see the camp of the Franks, and the line of their mangonels and batterers. And we looked for a long time.

See, the city of Constantinople runs down into a point, far into the sea. It is like a triangle of three equal sides-the base upon the hills, and the apex the gilded roofs of the imperial palace.

Against this tip of the triangle the waters of the two seas beat sonorously. On the side of the triangle where we stood was the port, with its canals and landing stairs and long wall that was higher than the deck of a ship. At intervals great towers rose from the wall, and on these towers were stone casters and smaller machines that shot forth balls of naphtha fire and sheafs of flaming arrows.

They were firing upon the small ships of the Venetians, which were answering with arrows that did little harm. I saw a heavy stone crash through the deck of a barge laden with men and break it in twain like a single stick.

It was as Arbogastes had said-the Franks were beating in vain against the wall of the city. A brisk wind off the sea was driving the mists away, and we saw masses of Greek soldiery moving up the steep streets, going away toward the land gates. Other companies mustered in reserve in the registans. And all the housetops and palace balconies overlooking the sea wall were crowded with watchers, slave and noble-harlot and Greek princess, laughing and pointing.

Above all the city towered the single statue that can be seen from far out toward Asia, the gigantic white woman with the countenance of the dead.*

Aye, Constantinople was like that stone woman, mighty and unchanging, looking out upon the world with the dead eyes of an ancient thing-

"They give way!" Irene cried. "They wear the Cross, and they give way!

In truth, the smaller vessels of the Venetians were drawing off, disheartened. Nay, there was reason for it!

Was ever such a siege as this? The Franks were so few that they beset only a little part of the great walls, and for every warrior of the Franks, ten men leaned on their weapons within the wall and laughed.

The girl, her hands clasped and her eyes moody, had no thought of hunger or peril, or the passing of the hours. Her gaze was fixed on the ships with a great yearning. Somewhere before her was the warrior Richard, on land or sea, perhaps wounded, perhaps slain.

When the sun was high, she clapped her hands and touched my shoulder. There was movement among the war galleys of the Venetians. The oar banks rose and fell, and the long vessels pointed their noses toward the sea wall of the city.

The wind had died down, and the swell lapped gently against the stone jetties and foundations. The broad banners and long pennons of the galleys swelled and flapped, and soon we heard the roar of their drums add the shrill cry of their nacars.

"See," she cried, "this is the real onset!"

It was a goodly sight-the shining vessels crowded with men in armor. The largest galley came with a rush toward the wall near our tower, and turned, weighing oars. It drifted up against the wall, the oars on that side being pushed far back toward the stern. Soon they began to splinter, and the side of the galley rose and sank within a javelin's length of the battlement-too near for the mangonels to cast stones upon it.

But the Greeks became very active, thrusting out beams to topple upon the crowded deck and loosing flights of arrows. The shields lashed upon the rail of the ship gave some protection and every rower had a small shield bound on his arm. And the fore and after-castles and the great raised deck amidship were on a level with the battlement.

And the little platforms on the tall masts overtopped the wall, so that the Venetian crossbowmen were able to send their shafts into the men on the wall.

For a time there was tumult, of breaking timbers and war shouts, and thunder of drums. A score of galleys had drawn up in line with their leader, and from the masts of others came arrow flights that clattered against our tower.

But to these shafts Irene gave no thought. She was leaning forward to watch the platforms that were thrust out from the high bow of the ship. Venetians surged across these platforms and leaped at the parapet, and we heard the clatter of sword and shield fighting.

Thus for a moment the issue of the assault was in the balance. And in that moment I heard a voice that grated upon my ears. A shout swelled up from the well of the tower stairs, and it was an officer of my lord Menas who had cried the order, a Greek who had seen me more than once in the palace of the Domastikos.