Adventure Magazine Cover — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

164. “O Kha Khan, we know not this man. Yet, because of his claim, we could not re- fuse him admittance.” The officer glanced at the silent khan and pointed to Michael. “He claims that he is to play with you at chess—as you play it.” In contrast to the flowery étiquette of Bayezid’s court, Tamerlane, who was im- patient of ceremony, always encouraged direct speech. Now he frowned at Michael as if trying to recall something that escaped his mind. “T have come to play,” assented Michael gravely, “the game that the great khan plays. It is known to me.” Tamerlane’s brow cleared. Michael had spoken in his good Arabic, and with this the Tatar, who liked to read. the Moslem annals, was familiar.‘ The Lame Con- queror made a practise of treating well all scholars, astronomers and men of learning whom he took prisoner. “You are a bold man,” he said. ‘Three days ago when you came to me as a courier from Angora I ordered that you should not let me see your face again. I gave you horses. Why did not you ride hence?”’ Bembo had known that Michael was the horseman who had reached the purple tent in the plain three days before. As Michael had mot greeted him at that time Bembo had kept silence, trusting that what his friend did was for the best. The jester did not know what a desperate game his friend was playing nor that Mi- chael, having heard that evening of Bembo’s plight, had resolved to stake their lives on a single throw. “Because, O Kha Khan,” the Breton rejoined, “it came to my ears that you lacked a man to play at shahk (chess) in the manner of Tamerlane, which is not that of other men of feebler minds.” THE khan weighed this in silence, then motioned for the amir, the captives and interpreters fo. with- draw to the farther side of the tent, in the shadow. He signed for the two archers to kneel at either side of the chess-board which lay in front of him under the flicker- ing candles. “So be it,” he assented grimly. set. up the men. Your daring earns you the chance. If you have deceived me, and can not play as you profess, these two dogs of mine will cut you in two. Your country- “Frank, Adventure men, Frank, have deceived Tamerlane. Beware lest you do likewise.” It was a long speech for the blunt Tatar to make. He was interested. His small, black eyes gleamed as he watched Michael squat on his heels before the board. Only the Persian, the Grand Mufti, Nur ud deen Abderrahman Esferaini, who had come to Tamerlane from Baghdad, and the Chinese general of Khoten had been able to cope with the Conqueror on the enlarged board and with the double number of pieces. Now Tamerlane set up-his men swiftly on. his side of the board and motioned for Michael to do likewise. Bembo, whose ready wit had grasped much of what was happening, knew that his friend could not play even the simpler game of chess as brought to Venice by the crusaders of the century before. So the jester grimaced.and bit his thumb, invoking the lion of Saint Mark to Michael’s aid. The Breton fingered the array of minia- ture gold warriors, fashioned in the like- ness of tiny horsemen, archers, elephants and rohks—castles—and with a single large effigy of aking. He knew neither the pieces nor their moves. : “Break off the head of one of your ar- rows,” he ordered an archer. The warrior hesitated, glancing at his chief, and then obeyed. Michael laid the wooden shaft carefully across the board mid-way between him and Tamerlane. Then, smiling, he set up the pawns along his side of the arrow’s shaft, and behind them the knights. Taking the thin gold chain given him by Contarini from his throat, he placed it near his end of the board, and within its circle the castles and the tow- ering figure of the king» In the clear space behind the gold cir- clet he stood up the jeweled castles. Tam- erlane surveyed him fixedly, evidently growing angry. The Tatar’s pieces had been set up in the orthodox fashion, very different from the queer array of the Euro- pean’s men. _ “Explain!” he barked. Michael touched the arrow. ‘The Kha- bur river.” His finger rested on the tiny pawns. “Ships and archers.” He pointed to the gold circlet. “Angora and its troops. Bayezid, the king who is the prize of the game.” Last he indicated the castles. “The sultan’s heavy cavalry on the plain of Angora.” * Eomichbooks: co