Swords From the West (62 page)

"After him! A cap full of gold to the wight who brings him down."

The bay charger, wise and swift of foot, swung clear of the running men and gained the shadows of the rocks before the riders could draw near him. Guiblo, his swarthy cheeks pallid, stared down at the lifeless eyes of the young knight whose white cross was slowly obscured by a dark tide. Beside him was the hawking gauntlet.

"A good plan," murmured the Venetian. "Aye-but three lie slain and a fourth maimed and another hunted by the liegemen, for so slight a thing as a ribald's glove."

Chapter IV

A fat hound does not hunt well.

-Chinese Proverb

Robert had hunted a fleeing foeman too often not to know that a fugitive who rides blindly is soon overtaken or cut off. So he galloped up the twisting gully, scanning the ground on either hand, and when he was barely within the shadow of the hills turned sharply to the left.

The bay pricked up its ears, braced its forefeet and half slid on its haunches down into the rocky bed of a dry watercourse. Here a stand of gnarled cedars hid them from view, and Robert was out of the saddle and holding the horse's muzzle before the last pebbles had stopped rolling.

His forehead was bleeding and his head was ringing from a glancing blow of the two-handed sword that had ripped off his helmet. And black bitterness clouded his thoughts. To be baited like a buffoon at table, to be hunted over the glens like a runagate cutpurse! To be tricked by the man who no longer had use for his services!

True, he could endeavor to make his way to Cyprus, where the new king held court-Jerusalem being in the hands of the Saracens. There, however, the influence of the Montserrats and the Venetians would be at work against him, and a poniard in the back in some tavern or alley would make an end of him. As for raising his ransom in Palestine under the shadow of Hugo's enmity-that was out of the question.

If he escaped pursuit-and the people of Montserrat would spare no pains to silence the voice that might be raised against them in accusation of the murder of the Hospitaler-he must seek the road that led to the eastern mountain wall and there make shift as best he could in the hills until the hue and cry had died away.

"And look ye, Sir Charger," he observed under his breath, "we do lack the services of squire and valeret, likewise of shield and helm and purse-which last is a sad matter, for we stand bound to garner us a many broad pieces of gold before the year is told. Yet hath the year still many moons, and we have been in a worse strait than this-Old, softly, softly!"

Gripping the nostrils of the horse, he looked up as a rider plunged off the trail overhead, plowing recklessly through the sand until he reined to a sudden halt amid the cedars. And then came a new thudding of hoofs along the ridge and a clanking of steel. Men shouted back and forth and passed on, unseen. Neither Robert nor the stranger moved until the detachment had galloped out of hearing, and they were certain that no others followed.

"By Allah, do the Franks of this country never sleep? The gullies are aswarm with them, and I have all but broken my leg on these rocks. Bi al-taubah-they do me too much honor."

"Abdullah!"

Robert walked over to the minstrel.

"How came you from the castle?"

"The red-haired woman unbarred a gate for me. When you would enter a dwelling seek out for companion a man with a sword; when you would leave unseen, ask a woman. But honor is due first to Allah and then to you. I watched from the height and saw you cut down those who came against you. Before that I observed you in the hall of the feasters, when the wine went the rounds and a woman would have smiled upon you. Ohai, my heart was cheered and I said to myself-'There is one who bath the bearing of a bahator, a prince of warriors."'

"Nay, these Franks do not search for you. They ride to seek me out."

"Wherefore?"

"To bind me and make an end of my doings."

Abdullah laughed, running his fingers through his beard.

"What is written is written, and who shall say otherwise? For I was sent hither to find among other things a Frank who was indeed a warrior and to bring him back with me to my king."

"What lord is that?"

"The master of all men."

"His name and place?"

"Nay, in time you will know that as well as other things. We will ride to Khar, for I have come from there. Have you heart to cross the desert and scale the Iron Gates?"

Abdullah was silent a moment. "The path is one of peril," he went on. "If you live to reach Khar you will never come back-to this. Whosoever ventures to Khar abides there. But this I can promise you; before the summer is past you will behold a mighty warring of peoples, and a treasure uncovered. Of this you shall claim a share that will suffice to build a castle like yonder hold and fill it with a thousand slaves and as many steeds-"

Robert smote the stallion's saddle softly with his fist.

"Words-words!"

The breath of the minstrel hissed through his lips.

"I read you not aright if you are one to seek talsmins and surety for a venture such as this. Yet if you fear, turn aside now. I have seen the Iron Gates crush a trembler-"

"Faith!"

The knight gripped Abdullah's shoulder. "Wherever you dare set foot, I would go beyond you."

"Oh-o-ho!"

Abdullah rocked with inward mirth, as at a huge joke.

"The young cub growls-the fledgling lifts its beak. Ohai-hai!"

"Mount then and show the path. For I will adventure with you into paynimry."

"Aye, bunnayi, little son. The young warrior would level his spear at an elephant! 0 most darling fool; had I a son he would be like you, yet wiser. Think ye, Nazarene, I will not betray you at the first Moslem village beyond the hills?"

"Nay, for you are no Moslem."

In the deep gloom under the trees Abdullah leaned closer to peer into his companion's eyes.

"How? What words are these?"

"And you were not always a minstrel. Though you carry a prayer rug, Abdullah, you have no use for it. I have not seen you pray the namaz gar, and in the castle you shared forbidden wine and meat."

Abdullah was silent for a full minute, pondering this.

"Then you think I am atabeg of the Kharesmian raiders?"

"Not so. For you warned the baron of their approach, and you did not seek them when you won free of the castle."

"True, 0 father of ravens. Had I led the raiders I would have stormed the Nazarene hold, for there was a woman more to be desired than the whitefaced maid of the pilgrims-and a lord to be held for ransom."

The minstrel paused to take the saddle from the stallion and let him roll in the sand, though it meant risk for himself.

"Many things, have I seen, 0 youth, but not this thing-that a babbler of secrets lived to be white of hair. Remember that I am Abdullah, the teller of tales, no more."

"Then we ride alone-we twain?"

"Not alone."

Abdullah laughed softly.

"Upon our road we shall have a brave company. Your Iskander and the hero Rustam-aye, and one of the caesars of Rome-will be our road companions. They who died, seeking the treasure of the Throne of Gold, which we may seize and keep."

Leaning on his sword, Longsword listened in silence. The minstrel could have said nothing better suited to his mood. Robert never hesitated over a decision, and when he felt that he could trust Abdullah he thought no more about it.

Meanwhile the minstrel was busied about his saddlebags.

"And if we die," he muttered into his beard, "we will spread such a carpet of slain about us that men will not forget our names. 0 Nazarene, you may not venture beyond the hills without a name and garments to fit. Hai, you are dark enough in the skin to pass for an Egyptian, being lighter than the Arabs. You speak the language easily-yet not like an Arab. So you must be a Lion of Egypt: Alp Arslan, the sword slayer, the cloudscattering, the diamond sheen of all warriors-the Emir Alp Arslan. And remember to pray the namaz gar," he added under his breath.

Presently Robert stood in changed garments. Abdullah had cast away the knight's surcoat and mailed thigh-pieces, sleeves, and mittens. From his pack he had produced a loin cloth, baggy cotton trousers and slippers. Over the youth's mail he had slipped a flowing khalat of silk and bound it in at the waist with a shawl, working skillfully in the dark. Lastly he gave Robert a light Saracen steel headgear with peak and nasal, and mailed drop that hung about ears and shoulders.

"The horse and saddle may pass for spoil taken from the Nazarenes," he pronounced, "likewise the long sword. In the first village we will seek out a barber, and when he has shaved your head and mouth we will cut him open lest he talk too much. What now?"

Robert stooped and found his gold spurs on the ground. Feeling about for a large boulder in the gully, he put forth his strength and rolled it aside. Then, dropping the spurs in the hollow, he thrust back the stone upon them.

"So that no other may wear them," he said calmly. "For here doth Sir Robert, castellan of Antioch, end his days; and from here doth Robert the Wayfarer step forth."

Taking advantage of the dawn mists, they worked out of the foothills into a cattle path known to Robert, and sunrise found them well away from the castle. Avoiding the main road to the east, they climbed steadily until they were past the line of the Montserrat watch towers, Abdullah remarking grimly that the warders of the marquis would pay little attention to two Moslem riders when they were seeking a fugitive of their own race upon whose head a reward had been placed.

Here they turned back into the trail that had been taken by the raiders, as they judged from the hoof marks. Abdullah started to give the stal lion his head when he swerved in the saddle and reined in sharply. An arrow whistled between them, and another shaft grazed Robert's ear as he urged his horse forward.

Crashing into the underbrush, he drew his sword and slashed at a tamarisk bush behind which a man was crouched. The archer turned to flee, but caught his foot and fell headlong. Robert swung from his stirrups and stood over him, surprised to see that it was the lanky bowman who had marched with the pilgrims. The man snarled up at him, unarmed-for his bow had fallen from his hand.

Robert sheathed the long sword and signed to Abdullah to do the man no hurt. The bowman must have thought them stragglers of the raiders, and Robert had no desire to make himself known, until he noticed a handsome pony with a Moslem saddle tethered to a nearby tree.

"Which way went the raiders from Khar?" he asked in English, for Abdullah desired to avoid the path taken by the foray. "You have one of their horses, methinks."

The bowman sat up, his close-set eyes agleam with hatred and suspicion.

"Aye, that have I, Saracen. And no aid wilt thou have from me to find the unshriven dogs, thy companions. Ha, by token of that long sword and high horse thou hast slain a Christian knight that did bespeak me a day agone upon the road to Jordan."

He spat on the ground in front of Robert and sprang to his feet, palpably astonished that he should have been left alive so long.

His tousled red hair stood up from his freckled skin, and the shagreen hood upon his bony shoulders was rent by thorns, so it barely concealed the greasy leather jerkin beneath. His thin face was defiant.

"Heave up thy hacker, Moslem, and make an end-for Will Bunsley o' Northumberland will ask no mercy from a blackavised knave. Had I my good long bow I'd spit me the twain of ye. Ah, that I would. This lewd Moslem bow, seest thou, carries wide o' the mark."

He kicked contemptuously at the short Moslem bow with its looping arch and silk cord that lay near at hand. In some way he had lost his own weapon and had found him another, less satisfactory. And his failure to bring down the two riders seemed to irk him deeply.

"Nay," Robert smiled, "the feathers of your shaft tickled my ear. And that is close enough."

"Close, quotha!" the bowman sneered. "Why, lookee, my rogue-with Iny yew bow I'd split thee thy forehead fair and featly at fifty paces."

His jaw dropped, and he fell back a pace. "St. Dunstan be my aid! Thou art the knight himself in paynim garb. Aye, that yellow hair-"

He scratched his head, looking from Robert to Abdullah suspiciously.

"And I would have slain thee in quittance of my revenge."

"Your revenge, bowman?"

"Ah. Three lives I seek of the Saracens that fell upon our company, to wit: One for the blind priest, good Father Evagrius, that they carried off to torture; another for the maid Ellen that they seized and bound upon a horse-may they sup in purgatory, may their tongues rot out and the kites beak their eyes!"

"And the third?"

"I vowed to St. Dunstan to feather me a shaft in the losel that smote me a dour ding upon the sconce."

Will Bunsley rubbed a lump on his skull ruefully.

"Aye, a knavish clout it were on this my mazzard."

"Tell me the story of the affray."

Robert sheathed his sword slowly. He had thought all the pilgrims slain, but here was news of two taken captive.

"Affray, quotha!"

The archer shook his head.

"Nay, 'twas a shambles and we the sheep."

The surprise, he explained, had been complete, for the pilgrims thought themselves safe on the Montserrat lands. The raiders must have been concealed in the gullies near the river, and they rode into the camp plying their bows on all sides. Those who stood up to them were shot down before sword or pike could be used, and Bunsley had barely time to string his bow before he saw the patriarch and the girl snatched up and placed on one of the horses.

He sent a shaft into one of the riders and ran after the captives, who were led away at once. Before he reached them he had been struck down by a club or mace from behind, and when he came to his senses the slaughter was over. After washing his head in the river he was able to catch a riderless pony that was circling the camp.

Without delaying Bunsley had set forth on the trail taken by the raiders. This was before the coming of the Montserrat men, and he pushed up into the mountains, becoming weary and confused on the descent, until he dismounted and sought some sleep, being awakened by the tread of Abdullah's horse. The Moslem bow he had picked up when he left the camp.