# Marching Sands/Chapter 24
### CHAPTER XXIV A STAGE IS SET

"Ho!" cried the voice of Garluk. "It is come."
Others caught up the words. "It is come. Gela is ready. One must die!"
"One must die," echoed Garluk, "or give way to the other."
A quick glance upward showed Gray that Bassalor Danek was leaning forward in his chair. Mary was watching tensely from the group of women.
Gray had little time to think. The man who now confronted him was a more formidable adversary than those he had knocked aside. Gela stood, poised easily, his bare sword swinging in a knotted arm.
Gray smiled and moved forward, while the throng of the Wusun watched greedily.
The thought of what he was to do had come to him. And he acted on it instantly.
Swinging his weapon over his head he leaped at Gela. The Kha Khan's sword went up to guard the blow. As it did so, the white man dropped his blade and caught the other's arm.
It had been done in the space of a second, coolly ​and recklessly. Gray drew the arm of Gela over his own shoulder, turning as he did so. It was a wrestling trick and it brought the Wusun's weight full on the sword arm.
A wrench, a quick change of footing, and Gela's sword dropped to the floor. Both men were now unarmed.
Gray had taken the only course that would save his life. Unskilled in use of the sword, he had reduced the fight to even terms. But he felt at once the great strength of the Wusun.
Gela gripped him about the waist, crushing his arms to his side. Gray felt a sharp pain in his back, and stiffened against the hold. Slowly he forced his arms up until his fists were under the other's chin.
It was now a trial of sheer strength. Gela strained at his grip, locking his iron-like muscles in an effort to bend his foe back. Gray brought one knee up into the Wusun's stomach and pressed up with his fists.
For a long moment the two were locked motionless. Silence held the hall.
"Ho!" came the voice of Garluk, "we will see the man crushed. Gela will crush him as a bullock beats down a sheep."
They were panting now, and the perspiration streamed down into Gray's eyes. He had not guessed the Wusun was so strong. The scene and ​the spectators faded from his sight, leaving the vision of Gela's set face staring into his own.
In weight and muscle the Wusun had the advantage of his adversary. But Gray was not putting forth his strength to the utmost, knowing that the hold must be changed when Gela tired.
Seeing that he could not snap Gray's spine by sheer weight, Gela shifted his grip swiftly, reaching for a lower hold.
Gray had been waiting for this. As the other released his pressure, he struck. It was a hurried blow, but it jerked back the Wusun's head and rocked him on his feet.
Instantly Gray struck with the other hand. This time his fist traveled farther and Gela fell to the floor.
He was up at once, growling angrily. As he rushed, Gray beat him off coolly—short, telling blows that kept him free from the other's grasp.
"Ho!" laughed Timur, "which is the bullock now? The man has sharp horns."
Gela hesitated, bleeding from nose and mouth. He had never been forced to face a man who was master of such blows. He swayed, gasping with his exertions, his brown head thrust forward from between his wide shoulders.
Gray waited, poised alertly, regaining his breath.
Then Gela lowered his head and sprang forward. ​Gray caught him twice as he came—with each fist. But this time the man was not to be stopped.
Gray was caught about the shoulders, swung from his feet and dashed to the stone floor. He felt the other's knees drive into his body, and rolled to one side as Gela's hands fumbled for his throat. He knew it would mean death to be pinned to the floor by the Wusun.
Lights were dancing before his eyes. The hall had grown dark, for Gela's arm was over his eyes.
For a long space the two were locked almost motionless on the floor.
He heard Mary cry out. The sound was drowned in an exultant shout, from the watchers. Gray was on his knees. He drew a long, painful breath. His lungs had been emptied by the fall to the hard floor.
Silently, he set his teeth and warded off the hands that sought his throat. With an effort he rose to his feet, throwing off the weight of his enemy. He staggered as he did so, and realized that he was on the point of utter exhaustion.
The shout grew in volume as Gela, still vigorous, advanced on Gray with outstretched arms. The white man stepped back. Again he avoided the clutch of the Wusun who was grinning in triumph. As he did so he summed his remaining strength with grim determination, watching Gela.
Again the Wusun advanced. This time Gray did mot draw back. He launched forward bodily, eyes ​fixed on his foe's face. His fist caught Gela full on the cheek-bone, under the eye.
Watching, and fighting off the stupor of weakness, Gray saw Gela's head jerk back. The Wusun slipped to the floor, and lay there.
It was all that Gray could do to keep his feet. His head was on his chest, and his dull sight perceived that Gela was trying to crawl toward him.
The muscles of the Wusun moved feebly, pulling his body over the floor. His splendid shoulders heaved. The blow that he received would have knocked out an ordinary man.
Gray, his shirt torn from his bade, and blood dripping from his mouth, watched. Gela edged nearer. There was silence in the hall.
Then the Wusun's head dropped to the floor and his shoulders fell limp. He ceased moving forward. Gray's blow had ended the struggle. Both men were exhausted; but the white man was able to keep his feet.
As his sight cleared, he looked up at Mary. The girl's gaze burned into his. Gray moved toward her, fumbling at his left arm.
He mounted the steps of the daïs. He took the bronze armlet weakly in his hand. Barely, he was able to raise it and place it around the girl's throat. She did not draw back.
Then he put his hand on her shoulder and turned to face Bassalor Danek. As he did so, there was a ​commotion in the crowd at the hall entrance. A Wusun stepped forward. He held a strung bow in one hand.
"I bring news, O Gur-Khan," the newcomer cried. "Wu Fang Chien is within the gate of Sungan.
At this, confusion arose among the Wusun. Women screamed and the tumani shouted angrily.
"The Chinese soldiers have driven back the sentries on the wall," repeated the messenger. "Wu Fang Chien sends word to you. He has come for the two white people. They must be given up to him. Or he will search the whole of Sungan."
The uproar died down at this. All eyes were turned to Bassalor Danek. The Gur-Khan sat quietly in his chair, but the hand that stroked his beard trembled.
"Will Wu Fang Chien break the covenant of our people?" he demanded sternly.
"Aye; he has mustered his soldiers with guns."
Gray felt the girl draw closer to him. She did not know what was going on, yet guessed at trouble in the air. He put his arm over her shoulders, thrilled that she did not protest.
Instead, her hand reached up and pressed his softly. Her hair touched his cheek. He had married Mary Hastings, by the law of the Wusun. It was not marriage as their customs ordained; but he felt the exultation that had come when he bound ​the circlet of bronze about her slim throat. She was his! He had won her from Gela. And—miraculously—she was content to have his arm about her. Of course he could not urge the claim of this barbaric ritual on her—if they ever won free from Sungan. For the moment, however, he joyed in the thought that he had fought for and won the woman he loved. The new menace, voiced by the messenger, slipped from his mind. He saw only the girl.
Then he realized that she was blushing hotly.
"Please," she whispered, "I—I must get my clothes. This dress is not—I don't want to wear it."
"It's mighty becoming," he said, laughingly.
He spoke haphazard, his triumph still strong upon him.
"Oh!" She smiled back. "Now that you are my—master, they'll let me change to my own things, won't they? I'll run back to Bassalor Danek's house."
He saw that she was disturbed by the multitude. But the lines about his mouth hardened. His arm tightened about her.
"You won't leave me—now," he whispered. Then he saw sudden alarm in her eyes. "We're in trouble, as usual. I'll send a woman for your clothes." He spoke lightly, trying to reassure her. "Here's Timur——"
​At his request, the lame chieftain curtly dispatched an attendant for Mary's garments. Timur was watching Bassalor Danck. The Gur-Khan was staring blankly before him. He was called upon to make a decision which meant much to his people.
Gray also was watching the ruler of the Wusun, wondering whether the latter's pride would lead him to resist Wu Fang Chien.
Then a figure pushed through the tumani at the foot of the daïs. It was Gela, staggering with weariness, the blood still flowing from the cuts in his face. In spite of this he carried himself proudly, and there was a savage light in the eyes that peered at Bassalor Danek and the two white people.
He pointed at Gray and growled something that the American did not understand.
"He says," interpreted Timur, "that you are a brave man. That the word of Gela will not be broken. He will guard the Kha Rakcha from the Buddhists. And he will protect you who are the husband of the woman."
A murmur of approval came from the ranks of the tumani at the words of their leader. Bassalor Danek looked troubled.
"It is well said," cried Gray. He stepped forward, holding out his hand. Gela drew himself up defiantly. It may have been that he did not understand the gesture of the white man.
​"Gela says," explained Timur, "that he will do this for the Kha Rakcha. Not for you."
But Gray had seen his chance, and turned to Bassalor Danek.
"Harken, Gur-Khan of the Wusun," he said clearly. "You must answer Wu Fang Chien. You have heard the word of Gela, who is a generous foe. Have you forgotten that your fathers and mine were once the same? Or the talisman in the shrine? By this thing, I ask a favor. It will be the last."
"Speak," responded the chieftain quietly. "I have not forgotten."
"The Kha Rakcha and I have come across the desert to Sungan to seek the Wusun, who are of our blood. Many died, that we should come here. And"—he recalled the words Mirai Khan had once used—"we have eaten your meat and bread. What we came for has been accomplished. Why should we stay here? Would it not be better to bring word of what we have seen to those of your blood who are across the desert?"
Bassalor Danek meditated, stroking his beard.
"Once I said to Wu Fang Chien and the priests, O Man-from-the-Outside, that you are my guest. So it shall be. I will not give you up."
"The time of the Kha Rakcha in Sungan is ended," returned Gray boldly. "Like the crescent moon she has come and will go. She must carry the word of the talisman in the shrine back with ​her. It was for this that the Kha Rakcha was sent. She will return to a king who is greater than the Manchu emperor once was."
The Gur-Khan shook his head shrewdly.
"What power is greater than the Dragon Empire? What other people are there than the Mongols, the Kirghiz and the Buddhists priests?"
"Beyond the desert is a sea, and beyond the sea are those whose blood was once yours. We will take our message to them and they will know of the Wusun."
Timur limped forward to the Gur-Khan's side.
"A thought has come to me, O Khan of the Wusun," he said slowly. "It is a high thought and an omen. It is that this man and woman will return whence they have come, with speech of what they saw in Sungan. It is written in the book of fate that this shall be. Why else did the white man overcome Gela?"
He turned to Gray, with a moody smile on his lined face.
"Your people, O Man-from-the-Outside, will not find the Wusun, if they send again. That is my thought. The sun passes from the heavens and it is night; the camel leaves his bones to dry in the sands. So will the Wusun pass from Mongolia.The priests of Buddha are powerful. Soon the sands will climb over the walls of Sungan."
​A murmur from a hundred throats, a muttered lament, greeted this.
"We will deliver our message," said Gray,
Timur was silent, standing beside the troubled Gur-Khan. A quick emotion of friendship for these resigned captives of Sungan swept over Gray. He turned to Gela.
"Will you do this for the Kha Rakcha?" he asked. "Will you escort us through the ranks of the Buddhist priests and the soldiers? It will not be an easy task. There will be bloodshed. But it would save the life of the Kha Rakcha."
Timur interpreted his request. The Kha Khan lifted his head proudly. He spoke rapidly, harshly, pointing to the watching warriors.
"He will do what you say," assented Timur. "The tumani will take you through the guards of Sungan. It has not been done before——"
"Wu Fang Chien first broke the covenant," reminded the American.
"Aie! It will be a hard struggle. The soldiers have guns——"
Gela broke in sternly. Already the light of conflict showed in his keen eyes. He issued a series of guttural commands to the tumani. The women began to press from the hall, uttering wailing laments. The young men clustered around the Kha Khan.
​"Wu Fang Chien will scourge us for this," muttered Timur.
"Wu Fang Chien," pointed out Gray grimly, "may not live to do it. Likewise, it is better, for the peace of the Wusun, that we should go from Sungan."
He thought, also, of Gela's savage love for the girl. For the moment the Wusun was their friend. But the future might alter that. He had seen his opportunity, and seized it. The tumani were drawing their weapons and chattering excitedly.
Gray had reasoned that now the Buddhists were assembled at the gates of Sungan. If he and the girl could penetrate their ranks, they might obtain a good start over the desert, which was now free of the outer guards.
"As you have said," announced Bassalor Danek, rising, "it shall be done."
"What is happening?" Mary asked anxiously. Sensing the importance of what was passing, she had not spoken before.
Gray laughed. He touched her shoulder shyly.
"Come to me, as soon as you are ready, Mary. Gela is a generous foe. He will guide us beyond the wall."
She looked at the young Kha Khan gratefully. Well she knew what the danger would be, although Gray had not mentioned it. On a quick impulse the girl stooped and picked up Gela's weapon from the ​floor. She placed it in the hand of the Wusun. The action caught the fancy of the tumani.
"The Kha Rakcha is one at heart with the Wusun!" they cried, looking eagerly at the beautiful woman.
"Aye, the Kha Rakcha!" shouted Gela, his moodiness vanished. "We will shed our blood for the white queen."
"Ho—the white queen!" echoed the tumani.