Adventure Magazine Cover — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

A Son of Strife father he learned the laws of falconry and venerie. But his closest friend and confidant was Ali Ma’akwaa, the gentle-voiced captain of the Turcoples. It was Ali who strung him his first bow and trained him at the butts outside the castle gate. It was Ali who told him the romances of the Arabian story- tellers, tales bizarre, comic, colorful, event- ful, horribly grotesque, splendidly heroic, fantastically comic. It was Ali who made him a gittern such as the jongleurs carried and taught him how to pick melodies from the strings. And it was likewise Ali who rode abroad with him and assisted in the first samplings of adventure in the nearer hills, discoveries of Saracens in every bush, chases of wolves that dwindled into rabbits, pursuits of phantom robber bands and res- cues of mythical princesses in distress. He was a very happy boy, because he had love and friendship around him, and dwelt in a world in which he was a young prince. But this period of his life was bound to end the moment he established contact with the greater world outside his own. And that moment was at hand. Be- yond it lay disillusionment, despair, the resentment of defeat, the emptiness of vic- tory, the triumph of abnegation, the glory of love. This is the story of Matteo, of his handicaps and how he overcame them, of his hardships and how he fought them, of his temptations and how he mastered them. CHAPTER IV THE BREATH OF ADVENTURE “NAY: lord, I am no longer a child,” protested Matteo. “No child, but a stripling,” derided Sir Gui. “But, certes, there is no danger,” pressed the boy. “Is there not a truce? And Ali hath business to attend to, supervising the work of the masons.” ‘True,’ agreed his father doubtfully. “We will ask him. By his decision shall you be judged.”’ Matteo smiled secretly to himself, for he had scant doubt of Ali’s answer. They crossed the courtyard, and mounted the Squire’s Curtain where Ali Ma’akwaa and his Turcoples were laying the stones of the new tower which was designed to bul- wark the bare stretch of wall. Messer Basil Kontades, the Greek engi- 6I neer, rubbed his hands together and smiled an oily smile. He had evasive eyes and thick lips. A parchment plan protruded from the pocket of his gown. “The work goes slowly,” commented Sir Gui. “But saw you ever better-laid courses, lord?” argued the Greek. ‘“‘Good work is slow work, and always will be.” “Nay, but I would have it pressed more vigorously,” replied Sir Gui with some tem- per. “Here we are weeks from the point of raising the inner wall, which I consider the most pressing need. Tis a matter of ur- gence, Messer Knotades.”’ “It shall be as you direct, lord,” assented Kontades, bowing deferentially. ‘Yet I would please you above all things, and to please you the wall must be strong and properly founded.” ‘““°>Twill serve, I make no doubt,” re- turned Sir Gui. ‘Ho, Ali, a petition for you to judge upon!”’ The captain of the bowmen dropped his measuring-rod and approached them, smiling. ‘“‘At your service, lord.” “Nay, not at mine,” answered Sir Gui. ‘This good youth would have me to believe he is fit to venture from the castle alone.” The smile on Ali’s face broadened. ‘And why not, lord? He hath a hauberk to his back, a full quiver and a sharp sword—and the king hath wrung a general truce from the Soldan of Damascus.” “Would you call him ready to ride un- attended?” pressed Sir Gui mockingly. “Ave, lord. For have not I trained him?” “True. ’T'would seem you are nigh a man grown, my son.” “Yet you would not grant it to me,” ob- jected Matteo. “Then do I now. Get you gone. And see that you keep a vigilant watch, and do not lose yourself in the hills.” “Ride toward Jordan, Messer Matteo,” added Ali. ‘The desert is no place for the bravest warrior without company.” So it chanced that a few moments later Matteo rode out across the drawbridge bound upon his first venture single- handed. True to Ali’s advice, he turned his horse to the left when he came to the desert track at the foot of the castle hill, and can- tered in the direction of the hills that blocked the approaches to the valley of the Jordan. GOMIIGooo <S' C@