# The Making of the Morning Star/Chapter 5

pp. 23-26.

### CHAPTER V
#### THE REDBEARD

IT WAS too late to go back out of sight, for watchers on the other bank had seen them, and their horses were too weary to escape pursuit. Hesitation would have been fatal, and Robert urged his horse into the river, to be followed promptly by the minstrel.
Once they had climbed out on the sand drifts they were surrounded by dark-skinned warriors in silvered helmets—lean, slow-moving men who swaggered in crimson and white kaftans and polished hauberks, who took in every detail of the newcomers' steeds and trappings at a single glance and bared their teeth at Bunsley—who returned their scowls with interest.
“Kankalis, these,” whispered Abdullah meaningly, “hillmen, Turkomans and the best of the light cavalry of the master of Khar—our companions on the road to the Iron Gates, O Arslan. Be wily in talk, O Egyptian, and think before each word. Do not try to aid the redbeard if they seek him out for sport for their long knives.”
Two mounted warriors who had been posted at the river pushed in between the strangers and the crowd, heedless of the insults hurled at them by those who were jostled by the ponies. Commanding Robert to follow, they conducted the three to a large tent where sat the leader of the band—an old man with a beak of a nose, his sword girdled high on his middle. He knelt on a silk carpet, casting knuckle-bones idly, and though he appeared scarcely to notice the strangers he looked them over carefully.
Abdullah related the tale agreed upon, that he, a minstrel wandering from Khar, had fallen in with an ameer out of Cairo who journeyed to the court of the Throne of Gold, and with him one Nazarene, a captive taken in the valley of the Orontes. Inalzig Khan, as the leader of the Kankalis was called, did not see fit to ask them to sit as yet, although they had dismounted.
“Where are your followers, O valiant lion,” he demanded of Robert ironically.
“Ask the kites and the wolves. They were slain in affrays with the Nazarenes and the Bedawans.”
“Allah, can it be so? What do you seek of me?”
“Guidance and protection through the Iron Gates.”
The khan bared long teeth in a mocking smile.
“Nay, you know not the Gates. Who can protect a stranger who lacks the right to enter?”
Knowing that a display of temper was expected of him, at this, Robert touched his sword-hilt.
“By the ninety and nine holy names, does a son of the Seljuks and a great-grandson of a caliph take grass between his teeth to bespeak a gatekeeper?”
Months of dwelling with the nobles of Cairo enabled him to imitate the mincing temper of a high-born Egyptian; with his mustache and head shaven and his bare feet blackened by the sun of the plains, he had little to fear. Yet Inalzig was not satisfied, although his tone became more courteous.
“Upon what mission do you ride to the Shah, O Cairene?”
Abdullah threw in carelessly, as if explaining to a friend—
“None leave the Sialak, the Gates, or enter to the great city except they go or come upon an order of Muhammad Shah—on whom be peace—the Emperor of Khar and the shield of Islam.”
“Does the jackal ask of the wolf, 'Why are ye here?'” Robert took his cue. “I will speak of my mission to the governor of the great city, and to you, Inalzig Khan, I say—” he thought swiftly—“that the Sultans of Cairo and Damietta have withstood the Nazarenes and send word of their deeds to Muhammad Shah.”
The Kankali nodded without emotion, and made room for the twain on the carpet.
“Hamaian—contentment be upon you, O ameer. I care naught for such matters, being sent on a foray to fetch a quota of maidens and spoil from the accursed Nazarenes and the desert tribes. If you can pass the Gates you will have fair greeting in Bokhara, the city of which I spoke. For the Shah draws his sword and mounts for war.”
“With whom?” demanded Abdullah with sudden interest.
“Mashallah—have I been within the walls of Bokhara this last year, that I should know? Some tribe of unbelievers from the north dares to withstand the emperor.”
Will Bunsley had been staring about eagerly at the piles of wicker baskets holding the fruits of the foray, and certain tents set apart for the captives, without seeing any sign of the girl or the priest.
“It is my wish,” remarked the chief of the Kankalis, leaning back on his cushions, “that the infidel be stripped and bound and stretched out for some of my men to try the edge of their simitars. Is it not written that he who causes the death of an unbeliever will not fail of paradise?”
A glance from Abdullah warned Robert that this request was not to be lightly refused. The khan had halted his men for a day's rest, and a curious throng had gathered about the archer, who had forgotten to mumble and gape as usual.
“It would bring ill fortune upon us to slay him, O captain of many,” objected Robert, heedless of the minstrel's concern.
“How?”
“He is djinn-infested. The devil of madness is in him.”
Inalzig signed for a slave to bring wine-cups and shook his head indifferently.
“I am no servant of the priests and herder of the afflicted of Allah. The Frank could not pass the Gates, so why weary two horses in bearing him thither?”
“Do you see the color of his hair and skin?”
“Aye, red as heart of fire.”
“When a man is blind, what is the color of his eyes?”
“White.”
“True. Allah hath set his seal on the eyes. Now when the devil entered this man, his skin turned red. Verily, it is a strange devil. The infidel, being mad, believes that he can overthrow any warrior with all weapons. Yah ahmak, the simpleton will bring mirth to your heart.”
“Allah!”
The Kankali smiled and sipped at his cup.
“Let us see what he does. Nay, do not give him a bow—” as Robert reached for one in a corner of the tent—“for the —— might send the shaft this way. Let him try his skill with a spear, a stabbing-spear.”
Robert glanced at Bunsley and risked speaking to the archer.
“Canst withstand one of these fellows with a quarterstaff?”
“Aye, by all the saints, that can I, lord brother.”
The yeoman grinned cheerfully.
“Last Martinmas I won a silver shilling for a bout——”
“The Moslem will have a long stabbing-spear, and he will not stop at the first blood. You stand in dire peril, Master Will, and it will go hard if you do not prevail.”
The archer declared that he would hold his own with anything on two legs at brawling or dicing and desired nothing better than to crack the skulls of his tormentors.
“The fool,” Robert explained to the Kankali, “will think that a stout stick is a spear, so let him have one. Yet if he is victor, will you permit him to ride with me unharmed?”
“Verily,” laughed the warrior, who was studying Robert curiously. “Have you also a devil that you speak the language of the infidel?”
“He dwelt at their court for a year and more,” put in Abdullah quickly, “and learned much of their ways. For this was he chosen to ride to the Shah with his story.”
Saying that it was all one to him and that he fancied there were three fools instead of one at his tent, Inalzig called for one of his men to stand forth with a spear. A thin warrior with a huge, knotted turban stepped into the cleared space, carrying a five-foot weapon. Will Bunsley cast about until he found a spare tent-pole of teak as long as he was tall and as large around as his two thumbs joined together.
Tossing up the staff, he caught it in the fingers of one hand and twirled it around his head. Then, setting his long legs, he gripped the quarterstaff with both hands widely separated, well in front of him. To the onlookers this seemed the merest bombast, and the eyes of the Kankali glittered as he advanced on the archer and thrust at Bunsley's ribs, meaning to wound the red man a few times before killing him. Instead the yeoman warded the blow by lowering one end of his pole. Again the Kankali thrust with no better result.
Angered by the gibes of his companions, the spearman shortened his grasp and feinted, minded to end the matter out of hand. But Will halted him abruptly by bringing up one arm and jabbing wickedly at the throat. Choking, the Kankali staggered back and the yeoman smote him on either ear so quickly that the two thuds sounded as one.
Blood flowed down the warrior's jaw, and he rocked dizzily, then crumpled down on the sand.
“The fool is strong in the arm, observed Inalzig. “Now we will try his skill.”
He barked an order, and a stocky warrior sprang out from the growing throng of watchers. The khan tossed him a javelin—a throwing-spear no more than a yard long with a small, barbed point.
“Send him to jehannum or taste a hundred lashes.”
Robert, who had watched English yeomen practising with the quarterstaff in Antioch, had known that Will could make a long spear look ridiculous, but a javelin was not to be warded so easily. Nor could he come to the archer's aid, for such a move would mean drawn weapons and a swift end for them both.
But Will, watching his adversary keenly, yelped cheerfully.
“So-ho, here be a dog with sharp teeth, so give heed, Master Robert, to some pretty work.”
Leaping about in front of the Kankali, he whirled the quarterstaff in the man's eyes until the warrior decided that the Frank was not going to attack, and launched the javelin. Will, having waited for just this, dodged alertly, and the short spear did no more than glance from one shoulder, cutting it to the bone.
The warrior snarled and drew a curved dagger. Rushing in, he slashed at the archer's ribs, only to drop like a log and lie where he had fallen. Will had stepped aside and slid one hand down to the other, swinging lustily with the full weight of the staff upon the Kankali's skull.
“Now St. Dunstan send that he be the one that cracked my pate in the battle,” he remarked.
To the Moslems his skill with the staff savored of the marvelous, for they were men who used none but edged weapons. Even the khan was stirred to interest and asked if the red man could do tricks with any thing but a stick.
“Put a bow into his hands and set the best of your archers against him,” suggested Robert.
After some hesitation Inalzig agreed and had one of the short Turkish bows brought out for Will, who took it with misgivings, saying that it might do to use from a horse's back but was no thing to tickle the fancy of a Northumberland lad. He selected his arrows with care, choosing the longest he could find.'
Thus equipped he outdid the best of the Kankalis, who withdrew from the contest with as much dignity as they could muster, explaining loudly that the Frank was surely djinn-infested. Indeed Will was strutting about with a lop-sided grin, for he had more than his share of vanity. Inalzig had fallen into a rage and nursed his wine-cup sullenly until Abdullah, who had followed the archery with mild interest, arose and declared that he had come from a country where men used bows otherwise.
“Then put the fool to shame, O minstrel,” grunted the chief.
“Nay,” responded the minstrel, “I lack his skill, yet have I learned a trick that your men know not.”
Taking a small turban cloth, he walked to the nearest tree. Rolling the cotton strip tightly, he wrapped it around the bole of the tree so that a strip some two fingers in breadth showed white against the dark trunk.
Then, calling for a saddled pony, he chose a short powerful bow and a quiver with six arrows. Mounting and riding off, he wheeled the pony some two hundred paces from his mark and set it to a gallop. One after the other he loosed three shafts rapidly as he rode, gripping the ends of the arrows between thumb and forefinger.
Abreast the tree Abdullah swiftly unstrung the bow and used the flying cord on his pony as a whip. Then, stringing it taut again, he emptied his quiver as he drew away from the mark. It was no easy feat to loose the shafts over the pony's rump, and the Kankalis raised a shout of gratification when it was seen that all but one of Abdullah's arrows had struck the bole of the tree, and three were within the cotton band.
“Such nimble finger work is not our way,” remarked Will, studying the hits made by the minstrel, “for we pull a long bow and draw each shaft to the head. Yet no man can say Will Bunsley gave ground to him in honest yeoman sport.”
The warriors crowded closer when they saw that the Frank would attempt to equal the minstrel's feat. They had been weaned from boyhood with bows in their hands, but like Abdullah were accustomed to shoot from the saddle.
Will signed for the bow Abdullah used to be brought him, and again selected a half-dozen arrows. Instead of standing, he knelt this time about a hundred yards from the trees and stuck the heads of the arrows lightly in the sand in a half-circle under his right hand. After testing the pull of the new bow, he thumbed the silk string and fitted an arrow, holding it in place between his first and second fingers which gripped the string. He let it fly and caught up another deftly. His long arms worked smoothly, and he set his jaw stubbornly.
It seemed to Robert that two arrows were in the air at once as his eye followed the first to the mark before looking for the second. When the last shaft was sped he shouted approval. Although Will had not tried his skill from a saddle, he had bettered Abdullah's hits. All the arrows were in the tree and four in the white band.
“Good!” grunted Inalzig. “The fool may live if he can; and it will be your turn, O ameer, to think of a trick when we stand at the Gates.”
* ↑ Owing to the almost inevitable cataract.