Adventure Magazine Cover — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

te of a dozen kingdoms. The Grand Cham blade mid-way and stood staring out into the dusk, his face a mask of anger. Yet when he spoke, his words were measured and deep. “Aye, there will be a battle.” down at the courier. ‘You are a brave man. Take twenty horses and go, that your face will not remind me of the deed you bespoke.” Replacing his sword, Tamerlane ordered that the army be ready to march on the morrow. For the first time Clavijo noted the great bulk of the Tatar and the fact that he was lame. In his youth, during an affray with the Seljuke Turks, Tamerlane had been beaten from his horse and cast to earth with three ribs broken and a mangled side. Turning back to his chess-board, he ob- served the Europeans who still remained held by their guards. “Come with my court, liars and mer- chants,” he said grimly. ‘Instead of jug- glers and musicians, you will amuse me, for I will pass judgment upon you then.” He looked XI THE THUNDERBOLT WO weeks before Tamerlane’s audience with the Christians, the stars traced the outline of the river Khabur in Anatolia, two hundred miles west of Tamerlane’s camp. Down the river toward the flat roofs of the town of Angora drifted a small skiff, only half-visible in the glittering light from the stars which seemed intensified by the heat of the windless July night. But the stars were eclipsed by the myriad torches and lanterns of Angora and the il- lumination of ten thousand _tents clustered about the Turkish town. Bayezid, his court and his army held festival. Angora, an wunfortified trading- town, yet served admirably for mobilizing the army of the Ottomans and Seljukes. Galleys had come from Greece, where the Crescent ruled, to land their loads of Mos- lems on the Anatolian shore across from Constantinople; the Mameluke had sent their splendid cavalry hither from Alexan- dria; the veteran main army of the sultan had been withdrawn temporarily from the conquest of Constantinople. So Angora was filled with the warriors Forbidden wine 159 flowed freely and revelry held the court- yards and roofs. The sultan knew how to hold the loyalty of his men by pleasure and by generous pay which reenforced the natur- al fanaticism of the Moslems and the de- votion cf the Janisseries—that formidable mass of soldiery recruited from Christian child slaves raised by Moslem teachers. The skiff drifted with the current of the river to the jetties of the town, already crowded with native craft. Michael Bearn raised himself cautiously, clutched the side of a fishing-boat and climbed to the jetty. “Who comes?” A sharp challenge rang from a pair of spearmen standing at the shore end of the dock. Michael stiffened; then advanced carelessly. “A sailor,” he made answer in his good Arabic, “from the Byzantine coast. I have heard that the great sultan is here and I have come to look upon his face.” A lantern was brought from an adjoining hut and the two spearmen looked him over casually. Michael’s skin was burned a deep brown by the sun and he had secured a short cloak that concealed the outlines of his stalwart body. His leather tunic and bare knees bore out the identity he claimed. “Does a son of a dog think to look upon the favored of Allah?” gibed one of the Moslems. ‘“Stay—you have been a slave on the galleys.” The soldier’s sharp glance had noted the scars on Michael’s wrists where the irons had pressed. “Aye,” assented the Breton; “a galley- slave.’ He tapped his stiffened arm. “But useless, my lord warrior. I have been freed in a battle.” His pulse quickened, for he knew the strict discipline of Bayezid’s army—de- spite the appearance of revelry—and was aware that every precaution was being taken, now that the battle with Tamer- lane was impending. “You are no true follower of the prophet,” said the sentry sharply. Michael’s curls, escaping from under his loose cap, revealed that he was not one of the orthodox Moslem peoples. “Your wisdom is fine as a rare gem,” - acknowledged he. “I am a Christian who has not seen his own country for many years. My lord warrior, I pray you let ‘me pass into the town where there is wine * (EOI OOO So (S@)