Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 33: 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 31 slain in his tracks. Will Bunsley scrambled to his feet, wrenching the simitar from the band of the falling slave. “Let us show them our heels, brother,” he muttered excitedly. ‘‘Do thou take up the maid and run along the path.” Robert, however, knew that this was just what the Moslems must desire him to do. Moreover the blind priest could not run, and there was no time to release the girl’s bonds. He had been tricked and well tricked. And fierce exultation warmed his heart. No need, now, of racking his brain for the words of deceit. He had jumped to aid the maid instinctively, and even now he might have explained his cutting down of the guards—if Inalzig and the captain of the warders would listen. But he had no desire to try them and for their part they prepared readily to make an end of him. There was the gleam of steel, red in the torchlight, before him. and the feel of his sword-haft in his fists. “Stand clear,”’ he growled at the archer, and stepped to meet the first two spearmen who crossed from the dam to the pathway. . Ellen had slipped to her knees.and was moving toward Father Evagrius, who was trying to draw her back to the cliff, his face upturned in the patient questioning of those who can not see what goes on about them. As Will pushed forward stubbornly beside him Robert swept him back with his left arm and slashed at the nearest spear-head. The steel point flew humming through the air, and the crusader dodged the thrust of the second. The Moslems crouched and reached for their long knives. They had not yet learned that the round targets of bull’s hide were no protection against the long weapon of their foe. Robert cut through one shield and the skull of the man behind it. The other warrior shouted and leaped, and Robert missed catching his dagger arm as it came down. But he stepped forward, and the man’s knife snapped on the chain mail of his back. ~ Robert caught hold with his free hand on the man’s shoulder blade and—sensing Will’s presence behind—jerked him back, to be dealt with by the yeoman’s sword. A snarling grunt that changed to a scream sounded from the path, and presently a splash in the water below. “‘Sa-ha!” chanted Will. ‘‘Another knave a-swim in the Styx. Guard thee, tall brother—so! Pretty work—yeomanly. struck.” A third Moslem had followed close upon the other two and raised his simitar. Robert, caught with his blade down, jammed the heavy hilt into the man’s beard and took the simitar stroke on his helmet. The blow sent flames flying before his eyes, and the light steel cap spun from his head. But the Moslem was down, choking, and the knight took another pace forward, leaving Will to dispose of the injured warrior. A spear splintered against the mail on his chest, and he reeled, coughing, for the point had lodged in his breast-bone. The man who had flung it shouted and whirled up his simitar. The knight parried one cut that would have hacked a knee in half and stag- gered again, when another spear tore into his left shoulder. The guard—a big-boned Turk—pressed forward too hastily and was dashed down when his legs were cut out from under him by a slash of the long blade. “By the ninety and nine holy names!” swore Inalzig, who had followed the fighting with glittering eyes. “Here is one who should be brought alive to Bokhara, for he is not as common men. See, he strides forward again.” “Then do you take him alive, O khan,” snarled the captain. Will was feverish with exultation. Only three men beside the two chiefs stood on the dam, and these held the torches. Be- hind them the Kankalis had vanished from sight and hearing. If the strength of the knight could crush these five as well as the six who had died, they would be free, for the moment, in the gorge. But he did not mark how the two wounds had bitten into the thews of his companion. Inalzig Khan rushed as a falcon steops— warily, quick of eye, and with his long cloak sweeping about him. His simitar glittered above his shield. Some one behind him hurled a torch at the knight. Bending low, Robert moved to meet the Moslem, and the two swords grated. The simitar bent nearly double and whipped clear—whipped down on the crusader’s sword-arm, cutting to the bone. Robert stumbled forward, threw himself against Inalzig and felt for the Moslem’s knife-hilt, while Inalzig felt for his throat and found it. Jerking the curved dagger free, Robert thrust with failing strength at his foe’s COMiICLOOokS.CGO