Otis Adelbert Kline

“ The acolytes were bringing in the veiled Azizah, and Rankin, securely bound.
"Lay them on the altar," commanded Zantut.
The deep resonance of a brazen gong rang down the succession of winding stairways, and rolled and thundered in the vaulted holy of holies.
"The hour is at hand," proclaimed Zantut solemnly. And then, to those who had carried Azizah and Rankin into the sanctuary: "The brethren from Azerbaijan are late. Did you see any signs of them?"
"Yes, saidi. And Ibrahaim up there is watching the star of our Lord very closely so as to withhold the final signal until the very last moment. ”

“ Rankin dropped his point and laughed.
The line wavered. It takes courage to assault a madman.
A long, fierce lunge, and a deadly swift flicker of steel; and Rankin withdrew from the mêlée, on guard again. That sudden assault from beyond probable striking-distance had caught them off balance; one of them was even now a dead man, shorn half asunder.
Then they closed in. Rankin's footwork saved him, and during that instant of grace, his blade again hit deep as he evaded the charge. ”

“ Above the confusion and uproar of the slaughter, Ismeddin heard the clank of arms and the clatter of hoofs in the courtyard, far above them.
"If that's the guard," observed Ismeddin, as he paused to wipe on his djellab the blood-drenched grip of his scimitar, "all is well. But if it's reinforcements for these sons of flat-nosed mothers, they'll regain their wits.... Drive hard, uncle!" ”

“ The beggar muttered a few words to the sentry.
"I have kept it safely, saidi," replied the sentry, as he unbuckled from his waist a belt and scimitar which he handed the beggar.
"I ride unarmed. Sayyid Yussuf, be kind enough to carry my sword."
"Allah, and again, by Allah!" marveled the Shareef as he accepted the blade, and noted the sentry's respectful address. "Saint or beggar, or both ... but who are you, old man?" ”

“ The drum resumed its savage muttering; and the opponents, swords advanced, circled warily, each seeking an opening in the other's guard. Then swift as thought came a relentless whirlwind of steel that bore Rankin back, step by step. The green flames singed his kaftán. Rankin halted, flat-footed, parrying and returning, cut for cut. And from without the circle of quivering, leaping flame the little drum muttered fiercely the song of doom which old Ismeddin's knuckles and finger tips coaxed from its head of serpent hide.
"In four lives you have failed!" ”

“ Where is the daughter of your brother, on whom be peace?"
"On the way to the Valley of Djinn, with Zantut the darvish and his pious companions."
"And what of the infidel, Rankin?" next demanded the beggar.
"The kaffir rides with them. But who are you, reverend saint?" wondered the Shareef; for there was something strangely familiar about this madman.
"I am as much a saint as Zantut is a darvish. It is you who are stark mad, and not I," declared the beggar.
"Even so," agreed the Shareef. "But what do you mean?" ”

“ Zantut whirled about, knife in hand.
The adepts leaped to their feet.
Ismeddin, sword in one hand, torch in the other, stood in the entrance. Following him came the Shareef.
"Holy darvish! Oh, son of many pigs!" roared the Shareef, and opened fire with his pistol. But the old man's rage was too much for his aim.
"Steady, uncle!" snapped Ismeddin. "You'll hit the girl!"
Zantut and his followers charged, swords drawn.
Ismeddin dashed his blade to the floor, drew from his djellab a slim tube the length of his forearm, and touched it with his torch. ”

“ As Rankin took his post, Ismeddin advanced to the foot of the dais. Extending his arms, Ismeddin began his invocation:
"Father of Mockeries, Master of Deceptions," he intoned, "the dusty centuries are weary of your dominion. The word of Suleiman seeks its fulfilment, and the servant of Suleiman awaits your awakening. Dark Prince, Black Lord, the circle of your destiny has been drawn, and a doom awaits you with a sword."
The darvish advanced a step of the ascent to the dais. ”

“ Let her at least identify this holy darvish."
"That also would be well," admitted Zantut. "But my lord knows as well as I do what value to set on the fancy of a woman. She saw him sitting in the souk, smoking, and he pleased her. Is that to be taken against the revelations of an angel to a devout and holy man?"
Zantut paused, stroked his beard, and continued: "Cousin of the Prophet, I am a peacemaker. I would not for the very treasure of Suleiman cause contention between you and your son. My disciple may have been deceived; or what he saw might have been a snare of Iblis. ”

“ And we know best what this last chance is worth!
"Talaat! Saoud! Ismail! Go up and get the girl, and Abdemon also. And tell Ibrahaim that when the comrades from Azerbaijan arrive, they are to descend at once. The hour is close at hand."
"Harkening and obedience, saidi," replied Talaat, bowing first to the Dark Presence on the throne, and then to Zantut.
From the dim shadows of the hall, Zantut and the two remaining adepts dragged forth a great block of chiseled porphyry, which they slid readily enough across the polished tiles to a position exactly in front of the throne. ”

“ Ten meharis filed down an avenue dimly outlined by the stumps of shattered columns. They picked their way slowly, for the full moon had not yet risen to illuminate the desolation. Finally, at the end of the avenue, they halted. The seven soi-disant darvishes dismounted and gathered about the kneeling meharis that bore the rich takht rawan. Zantut parted the curtains and by the light of a torch looked in. ”

“ At times Rankin caught a word, and was glad that he could not understand all....
Steel against steel ... strength against strength ... but ages of cunning against the wits of one short life: for only the body of that terrific adversary was human. ”

“ Which is all the better; for then one of us can very easily approach the Shareef claiming to be the Elect, get possession of the lady Azizah on the pretext of breaking the spell that clouds her senses on nights of the full moon, and then seek the hidden vault. But it is late. Humayd, stand guard while we sleep."
Humayd took his post, scimitar in hand.
Zantut set aside his scrolls and stretched out on his divan. The adepts extinguished the flaring lamps and lay down on the thick rug at the foot of the Master's couch. ”

“ And the air was almost fresh. In the course of a few years of adventure, one at times sleeps on a worse bed than the stone bench that ran along the wall of the cell.
"And Ismeddin," reflected Rankin, "is doubtless on the job. All the worse for Iblis and his friends!"
The very absence of any sign of Ismeddin seemed to Rankin to be certain proof that the wily old darvish was busily at work against the followers of Iblis, who was worshiped in Kurdistan as Malik Taûs, the Lord Peacock. ”

“ Much is to be done, and there is little time."
They retraced their steps, picking their way among the devil-worshipers that lay on the slippery stairs.
"Seven ... eight," counted Ismeddin as he led the way, "nine ... son of a disease, how did I miss you?"
The old man's blade drove home.
"Nine ... ten ... eleven," continued the darvish. "And now, when we release Saidi Rankin, we will see some fighting. The Father of Lies must step from his black throne and meet Abdemon, sword to sword. And if Abdemon defeats him, the promise of Suleiman will at last be kept." ”

“ Then, with heads bowed and arms crossed, Zantut and his followers advanced across the blue tiles toward the Presence that sat cross-legged on a lofty dais at the farther end of the hall. When within five paces of the dais, all except Zantut halted, and kneeling, formed a semicircle.
Zantut advanced to the first step, knelt, and carefully scrutinized the approach to the high place. With his finger tips he caressed the polished stones.
"The holy place has not been defiled," he announced. "The dust of the weary centuries has not been disturbed. The Master sits dreaming of the Night of Power ”

“ I followed blood splashes on the paving until I came to a side street close to the caravanserai of this madman we are seeking. In a blind street I saw three men lying where they had fallen. They had no further use for the swords they still clutched. ”

“ Rankin had evaded them all. Then, after an interval, came the last scout.
"I saw a man on horse, followed by three on foot, saidi," he began. "They carried a burden that might very well have been a man. The horseman halted at the house of the Shareef Yussuf, where he and his followers entered."
"Ah! ... could it have been the Shareef's son, Absál?"
"It could. He had a red beard, and was very tall and lean." ”

“ For the promise of Suleiman has waited all these centuries for fulfilment. And the infidel Rankin, who was once Abdemon, could not have accomplished his mission single-handed. But now, to horse! Those sons of Iblis the Damned are mounted on your swiftest meharis."
The Shareef snorted.
"Follow me!"
Their mounts stretched out in an extended gallop.
"Wallah!" exulted Ismeddin, as he drew up beside the Shareef's mare. "She flies! And to think that I overlooked her when I raided your camp at Deir el Zor ... had your men but snored a moment longer ... but give me my sword, saidi ... ”

“ And that, inshallah, depends on your sword."
Rankin leaped to the tiled floor and flexed his cramped legs. He stared in wonder at the unveiled features of Azizah.
"Allah, and again, by Allah! Neferte ... after all these centuries.... Then give me a sword!"
"Presently, my lord, presently." And then, to the Shareef: "Kaffir or true believer, she is his ... for even Satan's fortune can not last forever."
Whereupon Ismeddin with a piece of chalk traced on the floor a circle some ten paces in diameter ”

“ He was attaining his goal, even if only to meet the thirsty blades whereof Ismeddin had spoken.
The chief of his assailants, then, must be the Shareef, Sayyid Yussuf, the girl's uncle and guardian. In which case, all the better: at least Rankin was not in the hands of the devil-worshipers who had been filtering out of Kurdistan to celebrate their dreadful sabbat in that ravine two days' ride from Tekrit ... and thus and thus Rankin speculated ... with never a passer-by to intrude on the unreality of it all. ”