Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

‘The Making of the Morning Star “Those who utter what they will not defend with their bodies, I do hold arrant cowards, recreant to their vows.” Whipping oyt his sword, he placed the glove near its point and, leaning forward, tossed it deftly on Hugo’s saddle-peak. “By this do I challenge your grace, Hugo Amardis of Montserrat, to try by combat in this hour which of us be true and which be false.”’ Now at this the hegemen of Montserrat stared and muttered and drew closer, so that a ring of armed men was formed about the group, and there fell a silence in which the snuffling breathing of the horses was clearly heard. Passion darkened the swarthy face of the marquis, but before he could frame an answer Robert spoke again. “My lord, the laws ot Palestine do not permit one who hath been a vassal to sum- mon his hege into the combat of justice. So, will your Grace name from among your vassals a champion to take your place?” Hugo knew well that he could not have withstood the Englishman’s sword, but his anger flared the higher with the thought. Snatching up the gauntlet and casting it down on the sand, he shouted hoarsely: “Piculph—Guiblo—Sir Curthose, to me! Wilt suffer this upstart to badger me? A thousand ——, I say—-to me!” “Nay, one will suffice, your Grace,” laughed the Hospitaler, who had recovered from his surprize at Robert’s plain speaking after his self-control in the castle hall. “It were a foul wrong, meseems, to set three devils on one Englishman.” Two retainers of the Venetian who had been hovering close to the Longsword’s flank, drew back when spectators thronged about them. Messer Guiblo urged his horse close to the powerful form of the Lombard and whispered to him swiftly. Piculph gnawed his lip, then nodded assent. “Tl cut his comb, my lord,” he said aloud, “‘then he’ll crow less loud, I ween.” “Good!” cried Robert. ‘T'was my wish to bid you farewell in this fashion.” Hugo reined back his horse to glance questioningly at Messer Guiblo, who nod- ded reassuringly and slipped back among his men. The Sieur de la Marra also re- treated to leave the ring clear for the fighters. In the half-light of the low moon it was easily seen that the two were a match in 17 bigness of bone and height, though the Englishman had the better. horse. Piculph glanced about him once and swung down from his stirrup. choosing to fight on foot. It was in the code of the law that in the lists of justice the two combatants should be armed equally in all particulars. Robert BOKHARA at occas a A AE fe ‘e dismounted without hesitation, trying the firmness of the sand with a mailed foot and letting fall his shield—as the Lombard carried none. But when Piculph drew his sword a grim laugh went up from the Montserrat liege- men. The Lombard’s weapon was no longer than his adversary’s yet it tapered hardly at all, being blunt at the tip and heavier by half than the Longsword’s brand. It was a sword to be wielded by two hands, and so Piculph had no need of a shield. The watchers pressed closer, jostling one another and muttering between set teeth. The hollow where the camp lay was in a natural amphitheater that held the heat of the day, and they sweated under the weight of armor, their veins warmed by the late drinking. Many stood on the huddle of the slain to see the better. Piculph was no loiterer. Striding for- ward, he swung the two-handed blade in circles, his muscular arms cracking. “‘A purse of gold that he slays the Longs- word or makes him cry mercy,” offered Sir Curthose of Var to the young Sieur de la ‘Marra. But the Hospitaler gnawed his lip in silence as he watched Robert, who stood erect in his tracks, his sword held close to his chest, the point upraised. With a grunt Piculph struck down and sidewise at his foe’s throat, and steel sang COnmiclbooks G (C@