Adventure Magazine Cover — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch of Aleppo casks, emptied a beaker of vodka down his throat and laughed, stretching his arms. “OQh—time! Now for one bravo, now for another! A toast, Broad Breeches, to the fair courtesan, Luck! When we are gone, no one will drink.” With a stifled chuckle he picked a burning stick out of the fire and dropped it into the keg of liquor. Blue flame rushed up from the vodka and the Levantine laughed again. From across the camp a deep voice began one of the Cossack chants— “Glorious fame will come To the Cossacks, To the heroes, For many a year, Till the end of time.” Til THE STRAIGHT SWORD A) BERS the gray ice of the Dnieper began to shred away into cakes that drifted down the white fringes of the shore, a faint snow trail led north. A long this trail a sledge was making its way up-river. Three steaming horses drew it onward at a round pace; a fur-clad Tatar, astride the off pony wielded his whip in response to an occasional word from the one occupant of the rude vehicle—a human being so wrapped in wolf-skins that only his eyes and sable cap could be seen. Behind, perched on the runners of the sledge was a shivering servant. The bells on the shaggy ponies tinkled lustily, the postilion’s whip cracked, the leather-bound runners wheezed as they flew forward. It might, indeed, have been the invisible thread of Destiny that drew for- ward the three men, so that, in rounding a corner of the trail, they came upon a de- tachment of Zaporoghian Cossacks who had been halted by the sound of the bells in the act of crossing the ice of the river at the point where it was still strong enough to bear horses. They had halted in the trail, and they were the party that had been led south by Demid four days ago. Seeing them, the Tatar muttered some- thing of mingled astonishment and disgust, and reined his horses to one side, leaving the trail clear for the riders. “By the Rood! Would ye step me aside, .to give yon sons of perdition the road!”’ II Although spoken in'a slow, musical voice, the words were barbed. Moreover they were good, round English words. ‘“‘Excellence,”’ remarked the dragoman, a Circassian, by name Giorgos, as it proved, “the Tatar does well. These folk will not stand aside for us, and it is best not to stir them up.” ‘“‘And Michael of Rohan will not yield the road to the Grand Monarch himself, at all. A pox on ye, George—gibber in their tongue and ask the question of them and we will make shift to answer.’ Admonished in this fashion the dragoman seemed to hesitate, his smooth olive face puckered, and when he spoke it was in Turki. He addressed Ayub, removing his cap and bowing low; but it was Demid who made response, curtly. The Cossack chief noticed that the occupant of the sledge listened as if trying to follow the talk, although he was staring at Ayub curiously. ~ “George, clod,’’ the traveler observed idly, “here is a giant, and—faith—they must be of the race of Gog and Magog. Mark ye, they sit their cattle well, with straight backs and Louis himself would not be ashamed of such dragoons—but what are they? Have we come to the edge of the habitated world, George—to the dwellers of Cimmerian dark- ness?”’ The dragoman, occupied with his own fears, looked up reluctantly. “Nay, excellence, these are Cossacks who are masterless men and bloody minded. Being here they are out of their bounds and so must be bent on evil.” “Blister me, George,’ objected the man in the sledge, ‘‘if they are not Christians, by token of those silver crosses they parade. Being Christians their officer will not draw the line at a friendly bout o’ the blades.” Giorgos shivered. “Sir Michael, the great ambassador of the Franks at Constantinople would whip me if harm comes to you. Be pleased to turn back “T despair,’’ observed Sir Michael re- provingly. ‘Mark me—I am skeptical of your sporting instinct, George. Ye are sly, ey and—did hear me request, nay urge,” George, that ye translate to yonder officer my wish to cross swords for a mo- ment, the winner to take the road?” The Cossacks grinned broadly at the dragoman’s interpretation of his master’s desire, then they stared and reined closer. oO Comicloooks CO