Adventure Magazine Cover — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

20 Swift reflection gave him little comfort, because he understood that she must have known the envoy who was killed by the bitter cold down the Volga—as Yusyski the Jew had assured him. Now he wore the garments of the dead—who had borne another name. So he did the simplest thing, and seated himself beside her in the narrow sleigh. The hunchback by the fire took up his fiddle again, and the mountebank the strings of his marionettes. The crowd settled down to watch the play of the minia- ture actors, and the sleigh sped away while the bells chimed cheerily and Karai, his tongue hanging out on one side, trotted along behind looking every bit as wise and satisfied as Mephistopheles himself. e. BID you to my bread and salt.” : Nada, from between the two candles at the table’s end, inclined her head to her guest. Kirdy took in his hand the cup offered to him by one of her servitors and bowed—a little stiffly by reason of the heavy sword slung within his fur mantle. Then before drinking he was careful to pour a driblet to the four quar- ters of the winds, as a Mongol should. “Pantha-boumbi—my thanks to you!” Well aware that he was being tested— though Nada gave no sign of it—he selected his food frugally. It was as natural that she should offer him refreshment in her house as that he should accept. The tea was seasoned with mutton fat, and he smacked his lips noisily over it; and he grunted loudly when he had eaten meat, to show a Mongol’s appreciation of good things. Meanwhile he took account of his sur- roundings—a dim hall with almost no furni- ture save the long table and benches, a roaring fire close at hand, and straw under foot. The wind whistled through cracks in the walls of hewn pine logs, and Kirdy had a curious impression that he was sitting within a forest rather than in a dwelling. The arched ceiling was barely visible and the servitors of the place were certainly tribes- men. He did not think they were slaves. There were no more than two—gnome- like old men, with hoods on their gray felt coats and horsehide boots on their warped legs. Even their swords were round and short, resembling hunting blades. He knew they came from the wastes of Asia beyond the frontier, and he believed they had served HAROLD LAMB Nada for many years. No other woman was to be seen. The very smell of the prairies had pene- trated this room. Wooden saddles and sleeping-skins were flung against the wall. A hooded peregrine falcon screamed fitfully on its ring. The cups from which he drank were fashioned of birch. “O my guest,” Nada ventured when the last plate was pushed aside, “why did you lie to me?” Kirdy looked up calmly. “‘T have not lied to you.” ‘Are you really called the White Falcon?” ‘Aye, so.” “No man of the Sha-mo ever came to the City of the White Walls before now.” “Then I am the first.”’ Kirdy turned toward the fire so that he would not look at Nada but could watch the two armed servitors who remained squat- ting in the shadows. “OQ mistress of the house, you said that I was an ambassador. That is not the truth. Since when does a tablet-bearing prince of the Hordes come across the border without a swordsman at his back? I am no more than a wanderer, but in your thoughts— who am I?” Above all things he wished to leave Nada without suspicion or doubt of him. And he knew by her silence that she was puzzled. “You wear the garments of a prince of the Altyn-juz,” she said, almost to herself. Kirdy smiled, and took refuge in a parable of the steppes. | “Because a goshawk wears the plumage of a brown eagle, is he an eagle?” “Nay, but when a hawk soars like an eagle, the quail scatter on the ground. I think you are a spy, and I shall send word to the Tsar’s officers to take you.” Not long since Kirdy had dared the Jews to give him up, but he suspected that Nada would dare do anything. She might well be a spy of the Poles and the Poles were in power for the moment. Leaning forward, he held his hands to the fire and made no answer, judging that if she threatened him again she could not be sure of her own mind. “Have you naught to say, O my guest?” “This I would say: You spoke of the need of a friend; yet you will make of me an enemy.” From between the candles Nada glanced at him curiously. It was clear to Kirdy COMICOOokKSs C©@ 5}