Adventure Magazine Cover — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

The Grand Cham the silks and chrysoliths about which the Spaniard had boasted. The brazen city of Cathay had become a city of tents. The gold-house of the khan was constructed, so Bembo perceived, of bull’s hide. And instead of winning wealth, joined with perpetual life, they had been deprived of their own goods—or rather Soranzi had—and bade fair to earn a swift death. The others had not failed to remind Bem- bo that Michael Bearn had not appeared ‘as he had promised. To this the jester returned only a wink. He had recognized Michael in ‘the courier who had come in native attire from Angora. He knew that Michael was in the camp and would seek him out. The moon was already five days old. “Does this Frank,” Tamerlane observed to the interpreters, indicating Soranzi, “confess that he is a merchant and a thief?” At this Soranzi, reading Tamerlane’s harsh countenance, broke forth into fever- ish words, which the interpreters explained to their lord. | - “Aye, sire. O Great Khan. Splendor of the World! O monument of mercy and essence of forgiveness! O Conqueror of Asia. Grant but one small iota of mercy to your slave.” Tamerlane nodded, unsmiling. “T will. See yonder weapons?” ‘““Aye, my lord.” Soranzi’s eyes, widened at sight of jewel-inlaid simitars and gold- ‘chased helmets and silver camails hung upon the walls of the tent. “They were taken from my enemies, merchant thief. It will now be the duty of your life to furbish and cleanse the spoil that I shall take. Dog, do you understand? You may smell of the riches you may not taste. Pocket but one zecchin of this store and your bowels shall be let out with a knife. Go, to your work.” -Soranzi trembled and could not refrain from a frantic plea. “But my goods?” = “Begin by writing down an account of them—for me.’ The Tatar was not lacking in a rough sense of humor. He was naturally merci- less; yet he had no love of torture. A man without a god, a man fashioned for dealing destruction, he could still tolerate another man’s faith in God, and he Admired courage. 163 “Vou say that you are a warrior.” He addressed Rudolfo, who was watching him in sullen dread. ‘‘Good. You have seen my ranks and the camp of my foe the sultan. Tell me how your Frankish king would plan the battle.”’ Rudolfo licked his lips and tried to speak out clearly, but his voice quivered. He described the order of battle of the Italian mercenaries—skirmishing by irregulars, the entrenchment of pikemen behind aodatiis, the feints and countermarches that pro- duced the bloodless battles of his knowledge. This recital Tamerlane ended with a grunt of anger. “T did not ask you how your children played. I will have you placed with the Tatar boys and girls tomorrow by the river, where you may see a battle.” Glancing contemptuously over Clavijo, he stared.at Bembo’s sad face and gay attire. “What kind of man is this?” The jester rose and bowed ceremoniously. “T am your cousin, O i he stated cheerily. Tamerlane frowned, puzzled. . “Because,” pointed out the jester, “I am maimed for the fight, whereas you are lame for the flight.” “Tf you are maimed, you are Useless and need not live.” “So be it,’ agreed Bembo. “I am not afraid. Nevertheless, I would fain set eyes upon my other cousin who is only maimed in the arm.”’ “Who is that?” asked the matter-of-fact khan. ‘“‘A wiser man, Messer Tamerlane, than all of us put together.” Tamerlane looked around as if to mark this other Frank. He noticed a helmeted amir who salaamed within the entrance of the tent. “The other Frank,’ announced the new- comer, as Tamerlane signed for him to speak, ‘seeks admittance to the presence of the Lord of the East and West.”’ Two archers of the guard held Michael Bearn by the arms. Bembo and Rudolfo— Soranzi and the Spaniard had been dis- missed—stared at him in surprize. He had grown leaner, his face blackened by the sun; Around his shoulders was a rich fur kaftan and silk trousers covered the tattered bindings of his legs. The amir who had announced him bowed again before Tamerlane. Eomichbooks: (S@)