Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

The Making of the Morning Star 45 “Would Muhammad entrust the treasure of Khar to a wazir whose palace was sur- rounded by wolves like Kutchluk Khan?” “Vet Osman knows the place of its hid- ing—as you do!” “Am I a servant of the Shah—that I should keep the keys? Nay, I serve the mosque.” He glanced contemptuously at the Naza- rene who could be foolish enough to ask such questions. “What if the Mongols take the city? The wealth of Khar would fall into their hands.”’ “They would not find it. Not if they tore down the dungeons and let the water out of the tanks.” This explained somewhat the readiness with which Muhammad left his personal hoard of riches behind. And Robert fan- cied that if he had tried to bear off the treasure the aéabegs and the garrison would have made trouble. Pretending disbelief, he asked if a guard should not be set about the place where the treasure was kept. Nur-Anim turned aside to take up some sugared fruit. “There be watchers that stand over the Throne of Gold. For a hundred moons they have watched, and not Osman himself would dare draw sword against them.” “With Allah are the keys of—the unseen.”’ Robert took his leave and went out, the mullah staring after him a long time and wondering whether the new ameer was really as simple as he seemed, for Nur-Anim was shrewder than others. The knight circled the precincts of the mosque, within which he was forbidden to set foot. He found an escort of a score of Kankalis and as many lean Turkomans awaiting him. “Vah khawand,” greeted a Kankali beg in a sleeved cloak of red satin, “by order of Jahan Khan do we, thy slaves, attend thee.”’ “OQ ameer!’”’ growled a bearded Turani. “We also be here! Command us!” They held his stirrup, then raced to their horses, and Robert rode off musing upon the power of an emperor that could raise an unknown warrior to such dignity. From his talk with the sullah he suspected that Nur-Anim was well acquainted with the hiding-place of the treasure—if he was not actually its keeper. If Muhammad remained away from Bokhara and the city should be besieged for a long time, the possession of the treasure would mean power to the holder. Robert did not intend to let Osman put his hand on it. One thing puzzled him; if Osman knew where it was hidden, what had kept the wazir from seizing the treasure? And who was the Manslayer, that men who had never set eyes upon him should fear him? This question was answered for him sooner than he expected. It was sunset before he left the atabegs after issuing his orders and finding out that they knew less than he did about the Mon- gols. In the courtyard a familiar voice hailed him. ‘“‘Now by the shank-bone of the blessed St. Dunstan, here be Master Robert!’ Will Bunsley sprang forward and grasped the knight’s hand in both fists, grinning hugely. His hood and hose were some- what the worse for wear, but he looked fat and hale; in fact a strong odor of wine of Shiraz hung about him. “Praise be to St. Bacchus—who was a fair trencherman if he lacked of sainthood— that I ha’ found thee. Abdullah brought me hither with tidings-———”’ “How left you Ellen and the blind priest?” ‘Safe as an arrow in quiver, and chatter- ing like magpies, God wot! Has Gabriel sounded his trump, lordling, or is the day of miracles at hand again?” “Vah khawand,”’ spoke up Abdullah im- patiently, “the Mongols are within the gate.” : : “How?” The knight’s eyes narrowed. “Where?” : “An envoy came to the Otrar gate to have speech with the ruler of the city.” ““Ha—and no word from our outposts?” The mins’~el snapped his fingers sig- nificantly and pointed to where in the gathering darkness red glows were visible in the distance—the reflection of fire upon rismg columns of smoke. Bunsley fol- lowed his gesture with an appraising eye and explained cheerily. “Abdullah doth fret because the light horsemen sent out from this citadel be somewhat heavy this night. Methinks they are, in a manner of speaking, dead, my lord, and divers paynim villages aflare on the horizon; by which token are we beset, and the goodly walls of this town invested, and I lack a bow, Master Robert. A fair long bow, seest thou, is a goodly thing COMmiICLOOCkKKS. EGO S|