Adventure Magazine Cover — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

58 Aruk bethought him of something else. “Before his coming the omens in the sky were good.” Hugo was surprized that the little hunter seemed to be speaking in his behalf—much of the meaning he lost, being rudely schooled in the chuckling speech of the Tatars. The exile did not know that a few hours ago ‘he had unwittingly saved the life of Yulga, the beloved of Aruk. At this Cheke Noyon, khan of the Ta- tars, raised his head and spoke for the first time. “To the dogs with this squabbling. If this Frank is a chief of warriors, he is not a spy. Then let him use his sword so that we may see the truth with our own eyes. So, let him fight with all his strength. If he conquers our strongest, then he is a falcon and a chief, and no man of mine will raise hand against him.” ai ERE the last words had left his lips, Cheke Noyon was off his horse. feeeed Stalking toward the French noble, Cheke Noyon drew a heavy, curving sword as wide at the head as two hands joined together. Hugo, hand on hilt, bit at his mustache. This was something of a Gordian knot. If Hugo should by chance strike down the chief of these barbarians, his own life, he thought, would not be worth a broken ducat. So he reasoned, not knowing the absolute obedience of these men to the word of a chief, living or dead. Cheke Noyon made no salute with his weapon, or any feint. His first stroke was a swishing lunge that would have cut Hugo to the backbone if that gentleman had not stepped aside. In so doing he felt the logs of the cabin against his back. “Horns of Panurge!” he grimaced. “What a duellol’’ Well tempered as was his long campaign blade, he could not oppose it squarely to one of the Noyon’s cuts without having it break in his hands, so great was the bull- like strength of the old warrior and the weight of his huge sword, which seemed to be designed for two hands rather than one. Nor could Hugo~-step back any farther. True, a swift thrust and he could pierce the cordlike throat of the other. But the mail on the chieftain’s body made impossible any disabling thrust. force. Adventure Quickly, as the Tatar lifted his weapon for a second cut, Hugo’s blade darted for- ward and its edge touched the Noyon on the brow over his good eye. Blood ran down into the eye, but Cheke Noyon merely grunted with rage and lashed out again, blindly. 3 Cleverly the tall Frenchman warded the other’s weapon, before the blow had gained For all his strength the Tatar was a child before the master of a dozen duels who had learned the tricks of fence as a boy. Hugo’s skill was the more in that he never seemed perturbed. His long blade flashed here and there, and the Tatar’s rushes were staved off. The blood in his eye maddened Cheke Noyon. He seized the hilt of his sword in both hands, raised it above his helmet with a roar—and stared about him, dazed, with empty hands. Hugo had stepped forward and engaged his blade in the other’s hilt. The curved weapon of the Tatar lay a dozen feet away on the ground. 4 H ail’’ A yell burst from the onlookers. Cheke Noyon peered at his foe. Then, shaking his brow clear of blood, he caught up his weapon, tossed it in air, snatched it in his left hand and struck as a wolf leaps. But the gray eyes of the other had fol- lowed his movement, and the blow was parried. There came a clash of steel, a grunt from the Tatar, and his sword lay at his feet again. Gorun spurred his horse forward with a shrill shout, seeing his opportunity. ‘Sorcery!’ he asserted. ‘“O khan, no living man could do this thing to the greatest of the Tatars. A hand from the spirit world has helped him. He has be- witched your sword. How otherwise could. he overcome the lion of Tartary? Let him die!”’ Hugo stiffened, realizing the danger that lay in the appeal of the wily baksa to the vanity of the old chief. By agreeing with Gorun, the khan could wipe out the stigma of his defeat in the eyes of his followers. Cheke Noyon puffed out his cheeks, and his bleared eye flamed. “Dogs!” he bellowed. “Is my word naught but smoke? You heard my pledge. This khan goes free.” He glared at Gorun. “Liar and toad. That was no witchery. CORMICLOO© S (C@