Adventure Magazine Cover — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

. The Grand Cham Leaning forward, he ran his finger along the gold pieces—his own were silver. ‘“The army of Timur the Lame, Conqueror of India, and the Caliphate.” He looked at the impassive Tatar. “This is the game that you play, O Kha Khan. And there is no other in the world today who can play it with you—save Bayezid the Sultan. His pieces will [ play as he has planned. It is for you to make the first move.” The lines in Tamerlane’s withered face deepened and his black eyes snapped. “You are a spy!” “Perhaps. You may call me so.” Mi- chael’s thin nostrils quivered, and the smile left his face. “I have been in Angora. I heard the whistling arrow fall. Before that for three years I marched with Bayezid.” Tamerlane did not shift his gaze. ‘‘Proof!” “ Thrusting his hand under his kaftan, Michael drew forth the long folds of a Janissery’s turban, spotted in places with blood. He pointed to the scars on his wrists. “A slave, O Kha Khan.” He touched again the gold chain. “A gift for service rendered at Nicopolis where the host of Frankistan was broken by the craft of the sultan. Ten thousand Christians were slain there, after they had been taken captive.” To this Tamerlane seemed indifferent. One religion, to him, was the same as an- other. He was trying to judge Michael’s purpose. His interest in the strange ma- neuver of the Christian upon the chess- board still held him passive. Bembo plucked at the arm of the watch- ful condottiere. “See you, Rudolfo, Cousin Michael holds the Cham in leash, but methinks ’tis a thin, silken leash whereby our lives hang es ‘Decision had cone to Tamerlane. *“You are an enemy of the Ottoman.” “Slavery under the Ottoman crippled me.” Michael’s gray eyes lighted. He had risked much to lead Tamerlane to make the statement that, spoken first by Michael, must be received with natural suspicion. “His men slew my brothers-in-arms. I have waited six years to strike a blow against him who is the greatest foe of my faith. I have heard in the Angora palace Bayezid boast that he will set your head, O Kha Khan, upon a spear before the Gate of Paradise at Damascus. Yet you alone can humble Bayezid. Will you let me serve your” 165 “How?” It was typical of Tamerlane that he did not ask what reward the other might expect. Those who aided the Lame Conqueror received kingdoms; those who — failed, death; unless flight saved them, which was seldom. “It is for the Kha Khan to move.” Michael smiled again and motioned at the chess-board. ‘The sultan’s men have caught a flying pigeon that bore one of your messages to Tatary saying that you would force the_passage of the Khabur at Angora and drive Bayezid before you.” “True. The dog hunts. Aye, after he has seen my army. Disaster will come upon him for that effrontery, and the slaughter of my envoys.” Tamerlane’s eyes glowed fiercely. “Our Tatar hearts are mountains, our swords the whirlwind. We count as naught the numbers of our foes. The greater numbers, the greater glory for our chroniclers to write. Aye, thus will Tamerlane move, at dawn ‘s His gaunt, calloused hand swept Michael’s array of chessmen off the board in a single motion. Michael still smiled. He had won his throw. “So,” the Breton said, “‘did the Christian host at Nicopolis attack. Tamerlane has | grown blind, and his wisdom is dust before the storm of the Thunderbolt.” The dark blood flooded into the forehead of the Kha Khan. Veins stood out on his forehead and the yellow around the black pupils of his eyes grew red. “Think ye, slave, Christian cur—’’ his deep voice cracked. ‘Think ye, sucking child, the horsemen of Turan and Iran are like to the mongrels of Frankistan?”’ His great hand clenched and writhed in front of the eyes of the younger man who drew back before the vehemence of the Tatar’s wrath. The two watchful arch- ers gripped Michael’s arms, and Bembo sighed mournfully. “Ts it thus,”’ said Michael swiftly, “‘that Tamerlane plays at shahk? You have made your move. I have not made mine. And Bayezid will make such a move. Do not doubt it, my khan.” The cold rebuke of the Christian wrought upon Tamerlane’s anger and he became silent—as motionless as a snake coiled to strike. , | “Aye,” snarled Michael, twisting in the grasp of the archers, ‘‘your horsemen will sweep across the Khabur, my khan. They Eomicbooks: (S@)