Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

60 by weight of numbers, and the incline cleared. Robert watched until the fight on the causeway was over. For the first time he noticed that a broad streak of light ran along the horizon. The struggle had lasted through the night. “O captain of thousands and compan- ion of heroes,” a glittering Persian addressed him respectfully, “the barbarians have been scattered at the river gate. They have left the waters thick with their dead, and Kutch- luk Khan hath passed to the mercy of God with more than the half of his men.” WHEN the sun rose the sound of the ’ drums ceased. The crusader sought his horse and climbed stiffly into the saddle, while throngs of Bokharians clustered about him and cried praises on the - infidel ameer. Men fought for the privilege of taking the reins of his horse and leading him into the thick of the shouting mob, while women tossed roses from the house- tops. “The barbarians are withdrawing their tents from the river!’ A warrior stood up in his stirrups to call out. “Hai—they are scattered! The favor of Allah is with the faithful! The triumph is with Bokhara!” Robert was aware that this rejoicing was ill-timed. Yet was he too weary with his hurts to think of the future. He had held the wall and had made good his word to Muhammad. So might Alexander in other days have ridden through the streets of the ancient city and received the salutes of his warriors. The tumult died down when he reached the square where some Persian mounted archers were drawn up by the mosque. At their head was Jahan Khan, relieved of his chains, sitting his horse beside the litter of Osman. On the steps of the mosque stood the mullah, Nur-Anim, with a paper in his hand and an array of priests behind him. The Moslem who had been leading his horse withdrew, and the crusader halted before the steps of the Jumma. “Greeting, O prince of warriors and pala- din of swordsmen,’’ Nur Anim said in his high voice. ‘‘Upon thee—the Salute! And now hear the word of Muhammad, Shah of shahs. This firman, this decree, he left with me to be read when victory had fallen to our arms.” Robert glanced at Jahan Khan, who had Adventure been released without his order, and saw that the Kankah was staring at him curi- ously. A thousand eyes were on him as he sat his charger without helm or sword, with armor and sur-coat hacked and stained. “Tt is the will of Muhammad Shah that Osman the wazir shall watch closely the deeds of the infidel leader of the garrison. If the Frank presumes to set foot in a mosque or to contrive aught against the treasure of Khar or raise his hand against a true be- liever he is to be put in chains and held captive until my return. If he resists this command he must be slain with a sword. The Peace upon my servants.” Robert’s lips drew into a hard line, and he lifted his head angrily. Yet, thinking of the three who looked for his coming in the house of the fountain, he waited until he could speak calmly. “Have I kept my word to Muhammad?” “Aye,” assented Nur-Anim, rolling up the decree. “It was written that victory should be, and you have served fate.” “Then will the Shah make good his word to me?” The mullah glanced at Osman, who raised himself on his elbow to speak; but the knight was before him. “Q Moslems, it is also written that he who breaks an oath is without honor. I have been guilty of none of these things. Who is to be my judge?” ‘The wazir and I.” Robert rallied his wits and tried to shake off his wearmess. His head pained him, and loss of blood made it hard to sit erect in the saddie. His eyes went from one face to an- other and read in them only exultant mock- ery—save for two or three of the officers who had served him on the wall. ‘‘And who speaks against me?” “Tl”? cried Osman loudly. “Give heed, O Moslems, to the ill deeds of this Frank. He schemed in his garden to steal the treasure of Khar from the mosque. I made a test of him, and witnesses without the wall heard.” A murmur of astonishment and anger came from the lips of those who listened. “Fle cast dirt upon the beard of Jahan Khan,” went on the wazir. “And the boy Hassan he slew in the night for no cause. Women saw it done and will testify.” Seeing clearly that Osman had deter- mined to get rid of him, Robert held up his hand silently, and after a while—such was the prestige of the man who had defended the city against the Mongols—the murmurs quieted down. COnICLOOO SH (©