Adventure Magazine Cover — page 71: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Eyes of Youth Tatars, when he tried to question them, only laughed and pointed westward. ‘That was the last he heard of the lad from the Bou- lonnais. And then on a frosty dawn, when the sun - rose red-rimmed over the barrens, he noted a new trimness in his escort. ‘They rode in line and they rode before and behind him, so that his captivity was made patent. On a ridge far to the west he saw a great castle, and he knew the palace of Houlagou. His guess had been right; he had _ been brought. back by a circuit to his starting- point. Evidently he was face to face with the Iikhan, who was hunting. The Greek scribe was with him, so the meeting had been fore- seen. The king’s face was dark with the weather and his stony eyes had a glow in them. “O messenger of France,” he said, “there is a little custom of our people that I had forgotten. When a stranger warrior visits us, it is our fashion to pit him in a bout against one of our own folk, so that if he leaves us alive, he may speak well of his entertainment. my = “T-am willing,” said Aimery. but my sword for weapon.’ “We have no lack of swordsmen,” said the Ikhan. “I would fain see the Frankish way | of it” A man stepped out from the ring, a great square fellow, shorter by a head than Aim- ery and with a nose that showed there was Saracen blood in him. He had a heavy German blade, better suited for fighting on horseback than on foot. He had no buck- ler and no armor save a head-piece, so the combatants were fairly matched. It was a contest of speed and deftness against a giant’s strength, for a blow from the great weapon would have cut deep into a man’s vitals. Aimery was weary and un- practised, but the clash of steel gave life to him. He found that he had a formidable foe, but one who lacked the fitter arts of the swordsman. The Tatar wasted his strength in the air against the new French parries and guards, though he drew first blood and gashed his opponent’s left arm. Aimery’s light blade dazzled his eyes, and presently, when breath had grown short, claimed its due. A deft cut on the shoulder paralysed the Tatar’s sword-arm and a breast-stroke brought him to his knees. “Finish him,” said the Ikhan. 61 “Nay, sire,” said Aimery. “It is not our custom to slay a disabled foe.”’ Houlagou nodded to one of his guards, who advanced, swinging his sword, The defeated man seemed to know his fate and stretched out his neck.. With a single blow his head rolled'on the earth. “You have some skill of the sword, Frenchman,” said the Ilkhan. “Hear now what I have decreed concerning you. I will have none of this journey to my brother Kublai. I had purposed to slay you, for you have defied my majesty. You sought to travel to Cathay instead of bear- ing my commands forthwith to your little king. But I am loth to kill so stout a war- rior. Swear to me allegiance, and you shall ride with me against the caliphs.” ‘And if I reftise?” Aimery asked. “Then you die ere sundown. “T am an envoy, sire, from a brothers majesty, and of such it is the custom to re- spect the persons.” : “Tush!” said the Ilkhan. ‘There is no brother-majesty save Kublai. Between us we rule the world.” “Hear me, then, sire,” said Aimery. The duel had swept all cobwebs from his brain and doubts from his heart. “T am a knight of the Sire Christ and of the most noble King Louis, and I can own no other lord. Do your work, king. Iam solitary among your myriads, but you can not bend me.” “So be it,” said Houlagou. “‘T ask two boons as one about to die. Let me fall in battle against your warriors. And let me spend the hours till sundown alone, for I would prepare myself for my journey.’ “So be it,” said Houlagou, and turned to his hounds. | : | on a ridge commanding for fifty _.4¥ 1 miles the snow-sprinkled uplands. The hum of the Tatars came faint from’ a hollow to the west, but where he sat, he was in quiet and alone. He had forgotten the ache of loss which had preyed on him... His youth had not been squandered. The joy of yeung man- hood, which had been always like a tune in his heart, had risen to a nobler song. For now, as it seemed to him, he stood beside his king, and had found a throne in the desert. Alone among all Christian men he had THE damoiseau of Beaumanoir sat COLIC OOO KS (F@)