Swords From the East (16 page)

"Mingan-" the chief's son roused himself-"is my comrade. Do him no mischief! "

The Gipsy child pouted and, from the corners of her eyes, peered at the tall prince with distrust, even with jealousy. Leaning toward the Mongol she whispered anxiously, until Temujin silenced her by taking the two heavy braids of hair, crossing them over her lips, and knotting them forcibly behind her head. Mingan gathered from her gestures that she wanted Temujin to kill him, strip him of his clothes, and use them as a disguise in penetrating the Cathayan lines.

"We must mount and ride swiftly to the country of the Three Rivers of my father, Yesukai," Temujin declared. "You must come to clear the way for us if we fall in with a strong band of your Cathayan hunters."

At this Mingan would have protested, when he thought of the plot of Chung-hi against the boy's father. If Teinujin should be caught by the soldiers of the warden, he would be tortured, if not killed; if the Taidjuts captured him, his fate would be no better. As for Burta-

A proverb of the Master K'ung occurred to him: "A man who slays an enemy with his own hand is better than one who stirs up others to kill."

"I will go," he agreed thoughtfully, "as far as the last cordon of my people."

But Temujin had left him and was already rounding up the ponies, assisted by Burta.

It seemed to the prince that it would be fatal to attempt to take the horses with them through the encampments of the Taidjuts.

Temujin, however, would not think of leaving them behind. That evening he had descended the mountain slope to scout around the nearest fires of his foes-this had delayed his return-and had discovered a trail leading down among the gullies on the left flank of the hunters' lines. Mounting a big, roan stallion, the leader of the herd, he led the way thither, followed by the other ponies, with Burta and Mingan bringing up the rear.

The night was young enough for them to make out the ruddy glow of the fires, where men had settled down for the night, and to avoid them. And the clear moonlight enabled Temujin to pick out the trail easily.

Without being challenged they descended the forested slope of the mountain, wound among the gullies of the foothills, and felt themselves in the warmer air of the wide plain. Heading from copse to thicket, and keeping clear of the skyline on the ridges, the Mongol finally left the last of the cover and struck out into the sweep of high grass, going slowly to make it seem as if he were leading the ponies from one camp to another.

Often he stopped, taking warning from sights or sounds unperceived by Mingan. They came presently upon a stream, lined with gnarled willows through which the moonlight filtered sparingly, and here Temujin led the ponies down to water, and to let them breathe.

Mingan presently heard him grunt warningly at Burta and stride up the bank to look out. Voices approached, and Mingan stepped back into the deep shadow of the trees.

Four riders descended the bank and, halting to let their horses drink, noticed the other ponies.

"What herd is this?" one called out in the western dialect of Cathay. Mingan could see that it was one of the palladins of the court, a stout warrior encased in a mass of quilted armor, a ten-foot spear hanging at his back.

"Mine, if it please you, uncle," responded Burta, advancing to his stirrup.

"And whose are you?" ejaculated the warrior, somewhat vaguely, being a little the worse for wine at the festival. "A star-eyed, lissome maid, by all the rakchas of the air!

He stooped to kiss the face of the girl, but she bent her head under pretense of stroking the silver-inlaid breast-strap of the charger. Recovering his balance with some difficulty, the hero seemed inclined to continue his song, when one of the men-at-arms pointed out the figure of Temujin, advancing toward them in the gloom under the trees.

"You have your shadow, 0 Commander of a Thousand! Is not that companion enough?"

The mirthful rider bent his head cautiously, stared at his image in the pool and smiled. Whereat the others urged their horses on, and the charger splashed across the stream after them, bearing with it the palladin whose thoughts seemed to have turned from women to wine, for the last heard of him was the announcement in a hearty voice:

Mingan drew a long breath of relief, for he had expected that any second the Mongol's arrows might begin to fly through the air, and Burta was silent as they changed their saddles to fresh beasts and started forward again.

Cre-ak-cree-eek: the leather of Mingan's saddle squeaked louder and louder. Slap-flap, slap, went the breast-strap and reins. He started out of a doze, aware that he was shivering in the early morning chill, and that his legs ached.

The herd had struck up a smart pace and was passing over a stretch of rolling country, dotted with thickets. The rising sun warmed his back, and he felt refreshed.

"Are we out of the cordons?" he asked Burta, seeing no sign of other riders.

The girl made a face at him and shook her head. Temujin, too, was uneasy. Mingan sighed, for he would have liked to halt and rest-though not to sit down, as yet. His glance was caught by several antelope, breaking from cover before them. A fox appeared out of a clump of sage, and turned in its tracks at sight of them, vanishing before it was fairly seen.

Then Mingan was aware of a clamor behind them, a medley of cymbals, drums, and hand-gongs, and knew that the beaters of the royal hunt had started forth to the plain, evidently driving west.

Temujin turned his horse's head more to the left, and quickened his pace. For some time they made rapid progress, leaving behind them the tumult of the beaters.

Then, topping a rise, they saw along all the left flank a long line of Taidjuts bearing in toward them.

Reining in sharply, Temujin scanned the line in vain for a break, and then started forward to the right, away from the riders. Now the ponies bunched close together, heads up, snorting with sudden fear. Here and there more deer came into view, racing away from the Taidjuts, and a leopard turned up almost under the horses' noses, streaking away like a shaft loosed from a crossbow.

A fine wapiti stamped up to the summit of a knoll, and wheeled about, laying its antlers low on its back. The sight and smell of the plains animals made the ponies frantic, and Mingan had all he could do for awhile to manage his horse. He thought that they must surely out-distance the hunt, at such a pace. But Temujin pointed out that many of the animals appeared from in front, running toward them. They swept down into a long, grassy gully, among groups of darting antelope, and rounding a bend in the declivity, came full into a confusion of beasts.

Across the ravine in front of them a squadron of mailed cavalry was deployed, shouting and waving mantles at the game.

The headlong rush of the ponies carried the three fugitives up to within arrow-shot of the Cathayan horsemen before Temujin worked his horse out of the press and halted, his bow strung and an arrow on the string. Burta forced her pony to his side. The Cathayans promptly took up javelins and bows and slowly drew nearer.

Mingan, seeing that they were nearly hemmed in, called to his companions in Mongol not to resist, and searched for the leader of the mailed archers. At sight of the young prince in court dress the captain in command dismounted and came forward to hold Mingan's rein and hear what he had to say.

"Leader of a Hundred," the boy ordered clearly, "I am Ye Lui Kutsai Mingan, and I have rank in your country, Liao-tung. For the first time since coming of age I see the warriors of Liao-tung-" with pride his glance went around the circle of watching men-"when, by command of the Son of Heaven, I am to ride before all others of the hunt. With these two barbarians I would pass your line, taking with me their ponies."

He indicated the emblem of the Northern banners on his shoulder, in which command the mounted archers were included.

The captain bowed several times, then made pretense of adjusting a buckle on the pony's halter. Mingan noticed that his fingers trembled.

"Your servant is honored by your discerning order. 0 son of illustrious fathers, when you have passed beyond the sight of the Cathayans, heed these words. Evil awaits you in the Dragon Court. Do not return, but ride with your companions to your people of Liao-tung who impatiently desire sight of their prince. Favored of the stars, has your servant leave to withdraw?"

Mingan nodded, shaking his sleeve slightly. The Cathayans drew off, staring awhile at Temujin and Burta, then set about the business of the hunt. Beyond their ranks the nearest Taidjuts were coming into view and Mingan and Temujin lost no time in trotting out of sight down the ravine.

When they came to the open prairie again, Mingan reined in.

"Here you are safe, son of Yesukai. You are in the land of the Horde. Now will I say farewell and go to the emperor."

Temujin brought his pony up and stretched out his right hand, clasping both the prince's wrists between his fingers with a sudden motion.

For a moment Mingan strained to free himself, and realized that the grip of the stronger one could not be broken. Temujin, still holding Mingan helpless, dismounted, drew with his free hand the Cathayan's long girdle from his waist, and bound his wrists; then, taking a rope from his own saddle, tied the boy's feet together under the horse's belly.

"Fool," he grunted, looking up quizzically. "Would you turn back into a snare set for your feet? Have you forgotten the ill-will of the son of the emperor? Burta whispered to me the words of the commander of the archers. Would you escape to Liao-tung?"

Mingan shook his head. It would be useless-he would be sent for, and, failing to appear, would be proclaimed a rebel at the court of Yen-king, and the tablets of his fathers would be taken down and broken-which was not to be thought of.

"Then," said Temujin gravely, "you will be my friend, and my usenin- teller of tales. Come, we will take the trail that leads to the desert."

Meanwhile the feast of Hao was nearly at an end, and the aged emperor of Cathay declared he had seen enough of hunting and summoned his councilors and astrologers to hear the evidence of the disappearance of the Prince of Liao-tung, and to decide what had become of him.

The Taidjuts who had escaped from the fight in the ravine gave their testimony, and, to justify their flight, stated emphatically that a hundred hobgoblins of the steppe, armed with thunderbolts, had attacked them and had slain their chief after writing the mysterious prophecy on the tree-trunk.

They had not seen Mingan, and they said that if Temujin had been in the ravine, he must have been in league with the spirits of the wasteplaces, because the chief's son could not write, and there was the inscription on the tree for all to see.

Cathayan priests who had gone to offer belated sacrifices at the shrine of Kwan-ti reported hoof marks all about the pagoda, and heaps of ashes where spirit fires had been kindled-surely supernatural, because they had been seen by no man.

Mingan's abandoned hunting-chariot and horses were shown to the emperor, and those who found it reported that there were no boot tracks visible around it in the moist earth by the stream-only the prints of bare feet, which surely could not belong to the prince.

Lastly, rumors came from the Liao-tung banner-men that Mingan had been seen riding in company with a hobgoblin and a woman like no other in Cathay, beautiful beyond words, and clad in ermine skins.

This jogged the memory-a trifle wine-tinted-of a certain fat underofficer, who proclaimed loudly that he had spoken to the woman herder of the horses and without doubt she was a rakcha, a female vampire, who had tried to fasten herself on him.

So it was decided that Mingan had been carried off by devils.

Perhaps he had been turned into a horse or wolf by the woman-spirit of the steppe; perhaps he wandered through the wastes of the Gobi in human form, but a devil incarnate. In any event, if he reappeared in Cathay, he was to be bound and turned over to the priests.

The old emperor sighed and said in a solemn voice: "The spirits of the steppe are very powerful and this place is ill-omened. Let us return to the wall, and to our palace at Taitung where our actors will devise a new play portraying the virtues of the Cathayans and the evils of the demons of the sandy steppes. Let gongs be beaten, and paper-prayers burned; let paper also be scattered across the path behind us, so that any devils who follow will be led astray. I grieve for the evil fate of Mingan, who was my second son."