Swords From the West (12 page)

They tied the tired animals in a clump of cypress, and Shedda slipped through the cypresses to the hillside beyond, where white marble appeared in the dark earth.

"This is a door known to few, only to those who bear the Lion or the Falcon. But that is a thing beyond thy knowing, my lordling." She laughed and pressed against one side of the marble with her hands. "Why, it is open. One has gone in before us. Come, thou."

Impatiently she caught his hand and led him into darkness, until she paused to feel about the wall on one side.

"Here should be a lantern. What art thou doing?"

Nial was cutting the cord that secured the paizah about his neck. He cast the bronze tablet into the mouth of the passage behind him.

"I threw away a cord that might have strangled me."

The girl's soft fingers touched his face and felt for his arm.

"We must be quick. Here is dry flax and steel and flint. Canst thou make it light?"

Sheathing his sword, Nial took the implements and began to strike sparks. He was rid of the paizah, and his Tatar dress could cause no harm now if he were brought into the House of Gold by this girl who knew the secret of the hill passage. When the flax broke into flame, she held out a hand lamp, shaking it to make sure there was oil in it, and lighted the wick.

"Now we will find the khan," she promised, smiling.

And when Shedda smiled, with her veil thrown back over the red-gold mass of her hair, she was lovely beyond belief. Excitement brightened her clear eyes and brought the color into her cheeks.

"Aye, lead the way."

But Shedda laughed, running ahead, the scent of flowers hanging in the air behind her. Nial had to quicken his pace to keep up with her.

The passage ascended steadily, turning often. Its stone walls rumbled faintly with echoes of trampling feet outside. Nial noticed that wet tracks of a man's riding boots went before them. A Tatar wearing high heels had passed that way within the hour.

"Now are we in the House of Gold," Shedda called to him, "but none can see us. Those who are trusted by the khan come in this way, and only the watchers under the dome know of its inner door. They do not speak."

Lifting the lamp, she nodded at the massive foundation walls of a square chamber into which the tunnel had led them. From one corner a spiral stair led up, winding into a passage so narrow that Nial had to turn his shoulders to enter. Shedda tripped ahead of him, around turn after turn, until she stopped at a door of heavy wood.

"We are under the dome," she whispered. "I can hear the noyons talking, so we are safe, 0 my lord of battles."

Setting down the lamp, she turned to Nial, so close that her fragrant hair brushed his cheek, and her eyes caressed his. Swiftly her parted lips brushed his cheek, and she smiled as if rewarding a child. Then she lifted her hand and struck the bronze knocker upon the door four times, then thrice slowly.

Steps approached the door, a lock clicked faintly, and the passage was flooded with white light. Nial and Shedda entered the very heart of the treasure house. And the girl drew from her breast a bronze tablet smaller than the one Nial had discarded, bearing on it a falcon's head. At sight of it two tall Chinese guards bowed and stepped back.

"Al!" Shedda cried. "The khan is not here."

There were officers standing at embrasures, and boxes of messenger pigeons by the walls. Couriers came and went by other doors, and the place was tense with the suspense of battle dimly heard in the night. Sharp exclamations echoed under the immense dome that formed the walls and roof of this lofty post of command. The white light came from a ball of malachite or painted glass hung under the summit of the dome, and Nial saw that this summit was an opening to the sky. Perhaps astrologers used the dome, or messenger pigeons came in through the aperture, he conjectured; but Shedda was too occupied in listening to the rapid talk of the Tatars to explain. No one heeded him for the moment, and he went to an embrasure to look out.

Far down the palace height, beyond the wall, a line of torches flared and shifted. Masses of Tatar cavalry moved downward against the light, and volleys of arrows flickered from them. They were outnumbered by the mobs below them, but they were gaining ground. Fighting was going on in the cemetery. The Moslems had been driven out of the House of Gold, out of the palace height.

Nial watched, until the torches broke up into little groups in the alleys of Sarai below him, or died out, and the roar of conflict dwindled to a murmur.

"Barka Khan did that." Shedda, at his elbow, had guessed his thoughts. "In the moment when Yashim and his friends were in the very treasure house, he came and took command and led an attack. Even the watchers of the Green Lion took up arms to follow him. Look!"

She led Nial to the center of the floor and pointed down through a square aperture. Then she cried out, bending down to see more clearly what lay below. Nial peered over her shoulder.

The white light above him penetrated through the aperture to the floor below. Directly under Nial stood a black marble shaped like an altar, and sprawled out before it lay the body of Paolo Tron the Genoese, the tufted end of a great arrow projecting from his chest. One hand clutched the base of the marble, and his teeth gleamed through the tangle of his red beard.

"Thy companion! " The girl shivered and turned to speak to one of the Chinese archers. "He says that Tron ran into the chamber of the khan's jewels when the Moslems broke into the upper floor. An emerald called the Green Lion was kept upon that marble, twice guarded. If a thief approached it, by stepping upon the stone before it, he released a spring that let the emerald fall into a cavity below the marble stand. And these Cathayan bowmen keep watch over the khan's jewels. They are ordered to shoot down anyone unknown to them who enters that room. They say Tron searched about the marble as if mad-"

One of the Chinese caught her arm and drew her back, while Nial stared down at the dead merchant. So Tron had come himself for the great emerald, and since he had come with the Moslems, he had known of the attack to be launched upon the House of Gold. But he had not warned Nial. He had feared that the Tatars would make off with the khan's jewels, or that the Moslem onset would fail, and he had sent Nial ahead to carry off the emerald.

Nial's brain was weary, and his wounds in forearm and thigh ached. He saw that Shedda was staring at him strangely, while the Tatar officers were crowding around him. Some of them spoke to him, but the girl thrust her way to his side.

"0 Ni-al," she cried, "these watchers of Cathay say that thou didst come earlier in the night and try to take the emerald. Others say thou didst show a shir-paizah at the gate. How-"

One of the officers brushed her aside and growled a question at the Christian. When Nial did not answer, he reached out and tore open the throat of his coat. Finding no trace of the paizah, he snarled and reached for the Christian's sword. But Nial was not minded to give up his weapon. He sprang back and set his shoulders against the door of the passage by which he had entered. He felt behind him and pushed against the door, but found that it had been locked.

Instead of closing in on him, the Tatars stood rigid in their tracks. Even the Chinese bowmen turned and bent their heads before a man who had entered alone, muddy to the waist, with a white camelskin chaban flung over his wide shoulders. His cheeks were gaunt, and a stain of dried blood ran from his thin lips to his wide chin. But his eyes, restive as a hawk's, fastened instantly upon Nial.

"Throw down thy weapon!" Shedda besought Nial. "The khan-it is death to hold a drawn weapon near him." And as Nial, with set face, clasped his sword grimly, she began to wail. "Ai-a! Fool-bringer of misfortune!"

Nial recognized the khan as the Tatar who had been at bay before six foemen in the alley.

But Shedda flung herself on her knees before the tall master of the Horde, fearing for her life. She had brought the Christian hither, vouching for him at the door, and now he stood armed against the most dreaded soul of the steppes.

"0 lord of the West and the East," she cried, "0 Victorious Lion-"

A gesture from Barka Khan, who understood Arabic, brushed away her praise of him. The girl, however, had thought of a way to clear herself of blame, and her voice shrilled on:

"My Khan, this man is a foe. I drew his secret from him, and kept watch upon him, until I brought him hither to thee. He is a Nazarene from the West like that other, his comrade who lies dead below us, but skilled in swordplay. He changed his shape and came to open the gate to thy foes the Moslems. He carried a shir-paizah-" her quick wit seized upon a faint memory-"which he threw away at the mouth of the dome passage. Now behold him, at thy mercy."

Barka Khan drew the soggy gloves from his hands and let them fall in silence.

"Hast thou a witness?" he asked the girl after a moment.

"Aye, my Khan." Shedda looked up at him reverently. "Mardi Dobro, the reader of omens."

"He is at the gate. Bring him."

When a warrior ran from the chamber to seek Mardi Dobro, the khan took a cup from the hand of a servant and drank a little. Holding the cup, he walked quietly to Nial, even coming within arm's reach although his scimitar was in its sheath at his side.

"Thou hast heard-understood? What word hast thou to say?"

Nial smiled wearily. What could he say? Shedda's betrayal would stand against any denial.

"I came," he said bluntly, "knowing naught of the Moslems. I came to steal the great emerald called the Green Lion for this other man, who was my friend."

For a moment the dark eyes of the Tatar lord met the blue eyes of the crusader's son. Then he turned on his heel to go and stare down the opening at Tron's body.

The color came again into Shedda's cheeks. Even the dead Genoese served to prove her tale, and she relied upon Mardi Dobro's cunning. When the shaman entered, the khan turned upon him instantly.

"What is this man, 0 interpreter of omens, who bath changed his shape and now stands before me with a drawn sword?"

A single glance told Mardi Dobro the story of Nial's set face and the anger of the Tatars. Running forward, he threw himself down before the khan, beating his shaggy head against the floor. His wrinkled face tensed with anxiety, for Barka Khan was the only human being the shaman feared.

"At the Sea Gate," he croaked, "I beheld this youth land from the sea, bearing this sword. In that hour I read the omen of the fire upon bone. Clearly I saw the sign, that this sword was bound up with thy life, as an arrow with its feather."

The listeners edged closer, for this was a strange sign that had proved true. Even Barka Khan was deeply attentive.

"For good or evil?" he asked.

Mardi Dobro's green eyes gleamed shrewdly.

"For evil," he lied. "Behold, I warned thee of perils gathering, rising against thee, and now is this sword come against thee, as the sign foretold."

Nial tightened his muscles, to await the speeding of an arrow from the long bows of the Chinese guards who had drawn near him, weapons in hand. Barka Khan struck his hands together in anger.

"This night," the khan said grimly, "there has been too much changing of shapes. I have listened to words that hide like foxes in tall grass. Thy words-" he turned to Shedda-"were lies. This bearer of a sword was not among the Moslems; he was beside me. And thy sign," he added to the startled shaman, "was false. The sword struck down two of my foemen, giving me life."

He strode to Nial and touched his arm.

"The khan does not turn his face from one who has shed blood for him. I know naught of what is behind thee. It is like a mist over the water. Now sheath thy sword and fear not. Thou hast taken the shape of a gur-khan of my guard. Be one. But-" he smiled slightly-"do not change thy shape again."

Shedda tried to touch the edge of his chaban, and Mardi Dobro muttered frantically, but Barka Khan heeded them no more than the stones of the floor. He had been six days and almost as many nights in the saddle; he had cut his way through the streets of Sarai to get here. He had been wounded more than once, and had hours of fighting ahead before he could rest.

"Come to me," he said over his shoulder to Nial, "after the time water takes to boil."

One of the officers brought a cup of spiced wine to Nial, and another asked if he would accept a horse, a Kabarda.

Nial sheathed his sword, emptied the cup and drew a long breath.

"Aye," he said.

With the noyons of the khan, he went from the chamber under the dome. Gray light filtered through the embrasures, and sunlight flashed upon a distant snowy peak. The giant Chinese resumed their vigil, and quiet settled down upon the House of Gold. Shedda clutched her cloak about her, shivering. She lived, but she had been scorned by Barka Khan, who had not even troubled to slay her; and Nial no longer had eyes for her beauty.

"Fool, and son of a witless dog," she whispered at the shaman, "to lie to thy lord. He spoke the truth."

But Mardi Dobro did not hear her. In stricken silence he was turning over between his fingers the shoulder bone of a sheep that had prevailed against the power of armed men and his own cunning.