Harold Lamb

“ 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. ”

“ III THE STRAIGHT SWORD WHERE 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 English ambassador at court knew of this, and Sir Michael had urged him to demand justice from the Sultan for the robbery. But the ambassador was afraid to act, aware that Sidi Ahmad, the pasha in question, was the favorite of Mustapha and the most powerful noble among the Moslems.
“There are eyes and ears hidden about the Imperial City,” grunted Demid, “and they reach even to here. Have you been in Aleppo?”
Sir Michael shook his head.
“No Christian can pass the gates.”
“Hearken, Frank: Have you a master? Whom do you serve?” ”

“ The unbeliever is an escaped slave who hath lifted his voice against a true follower of the prophet. My favor to him who carries out my wish. The Circassian servant is to be trusted. Peace to him who directs his steps aright.—Mustapha.'”
To Demid’s surprize Michael burst out in hearty laughter.
“The —— of a' safe conduct!” he muttered to himself, and wondered whether he was to believe the Cossack; but there was no doubting the candor of the young chief.
“Your head—” Demid followed out his own train of thought—“Giorgos would have had it to bear back with him, if my sword had slain you. ”

“ He put his finger on the hilt of the Irish man’s rapier. “You can use that. How would you thrust against a shrewder swordsman? Openly, at his throat?”
“Not so.” Sir Michael smiled. “I would use my blade clumsily at first—as you did—and pass it under his guard when he struck.” ”

“ During this season in Midwinter, the caravan trade from India, Persia and Arabia came partly overland to the Euphrates, but mainly up that river, through Baghdad. Then—the passes of the Caucasus being under deep snow—it was born over the desert from Baghdad to Aleppo, thence to the ports in the Levant. ”

“ Start a fire and boil millet and mutton—chop a hole in the ice, Ayub. The detachment is in your hand until I come back.”
Taking Sir Michael by the arm, and motioning for Giorgos to remain at the camp, Demid led the traveler aside to some rocks where he sat down and proceeded deliberately to light his clay pipe. Placing the black Turkish tobacco in the bowl, he laid a pinch of tinder on it and struck steel against flint until he ignited the tinder.
“This paper,” he said abruptly in Turkish, “is sealed with wax, yet its true seal is blood. It is your death warrant.” ”

“ 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 ”