Adventure Magazine Cover — page 143: what you’re looking at

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142 stranger than the aspect of the country where isolated shepherds ran away at their approach and the inns were no more than walled spaces, where the animals could be picketed and fires lighted—stranger than this was the castle without doors. The highway they had been following was no more than a trail from valley to valley. The castle overlooked this path from a bar- ren cliffside up which wound a well-defined way cut in the rock. Half-way up the ramp, as the travelers termed the road, they were halted by a ragged man on a shaggy pony who called to them harshly. Clavijo appeared to medi- tate on the meaning of the horseman’s words, then shook his head. Michael, how- ever, interpreted. “The man is an Armenian. He says we are in the land of his lord and must pay the customary tribute. It would be best to do so.” Soranzi, who handled the expenditures of the expedition, demurred, and the rider retired, bidding them stay where they were. Presently a.thin man clad in leathers and furs appeared in the roadway, followed by thirty or more even more ragged horsemen armed with bows. At this Rudolfo swore and began to mus- ter his mailed men-at-arms to the front of the column, when Michael checked him. “This rider declares that he is lord of the castle, although he does not dare occupy it owing to the attacks of the Turks who are in the habit of raiding the country from the sultanate to.the south. He says that he is very poor and a Christian—which, forsooth, is but half true—and needs money to carry on his fighting. What will you give him, Messer Soranzi?”’ The' merchant scowled, for besides the presents destined for the Grand Cham the only other goods in the caravan were his own large stock in trade from which he ex- pected a profit of several hundred per cent. at the least. “Tell the Moor,” he commanded, “that we be merchants seeking the court of the Grand Cham. ‘Travelers do not pay tribute at castles of the Grand Cham.” Michael grinned and spoke with the Ar- menian chief, who frowned in turn and re- sponded testily. “He says,’ announced the Breton, “that he knows naught of any Grand Cham or Khan except himself and the Turkish sul- Adventure tans and that if we are to travel in his land we must make him a present.” Clavijo and Soranzi argued the matter hotly and finally produced a piece of scarlet cloth and a silver cup. These the Arme- nian refused angrily, saying that he must have more. Darkness was falling and a thin rain pierced the garments of the travelers un- comfortably. Soranzi shook his thin fists and chewed at his beard. “And this dog calls himself a Christian! Well, give him a roll of Phrygian purple velvet from the lot we carry for the great Cham . “And a handful of gold from your own fat pouch, Messer Merchant,” snarled Ru- *dolfo, who was both cold and hungry. “A pox on your bartering!” This brought a—wail from Soranzi, but mollified the Armenian, who withdrew up the hillside with his motley army and his spoils. But the Venetians found that the horsemen had not remained at the castle. It was quite empty; moreover every door had been removed from its hinges. When the beasts had been quartered in the courtyard and Michael with some of the soldiers had succeeded in lighting a fire in the great hall—not without difficulty—and after they had dined on cold mutton, cold bread-cakes and wine, Clavijo, who had been very thoughtful for some time, spoke up— “My friends, look yonder.”’ —4 RUDOLFO started nervously and , § they all stared at a sign on the stone wall of the hall, a cross, obscured by smoke, chiseled into the granite. “That is a potent symbol of the Catha- yans,” nodded Clavijo, “one of the talis- mans of their alchemists. Aye, this castle bears evidence of their magic. Why is there no castellan? Where be the doors?” As the men were silent, the snarling cry of a jackal came to their ears from the dark- ness and rain outside and Soranzi paled. “Where vanished the knavish riders that we met?” continued Clavijo. “To their tents, elsewhere,” broke in Michael. ‘‘As for the cross, it is Christian in sooth. The doors were doubtless re- moved by the Turks who, the Armenian { said, recently sacked. the place and. left orders that it was not to be defended again.” Clavijo shrugged, with a dubious smile. Since learning that Bearn had been a captive Pe Eomichbooks.co