by Andre Norton
8
They burst through a last wide band of mist into a wilderness of tallgrass and shrubs. Travis heard the coyotes give tongue, but it was toolate. Out of nowhere whirled a leather loop, settling about his chest,snapping his arms tight to his body, taking him off his feet with a jerkto be dragged helplessly along the ground behind a galloping horse.
A tawny fury sprang in the air to snap at the horse's head. Traviskicked fruitlessly, trying to regain his feet as the horse reared, andfought against the control of his shouting rider. All through the meleethe Apache heard Kaydessa shrilly screaming words he did not understand.
Travis was on his knees, coughing in the dust, exerting the muscles inhis chest and shoulders to loosen the lariat. On either side of him thecoyotes wove a snarling pattern of defiance, dashing back and forth topresent no target for the enemy, yet keeping the excited horses sostirred up that their riders could use neither ropes nor blades.
Then Kaydessa ran between two of the ringing horses to Travis and jerkedat the loop about him. The tough, braided leather eased its hold, and hewas able to gasp in full lungfuls of air. She was still shouting, butthe tone had changed from one of recognition to a definite scolding.
Travis won to his feet just as the rider who had lassoed him finally gothis horse under rein and dismounted. Holding the rope, the man walkedhand over hand toward them, as Travis back on the Arizona range wouldhave approached a nervous, unschooled pony.
The Mongol was an inch or so shorter than the Apache, and his face wasyoung, though he had a drooping mustache bracketing his mouth withslender spear points of black hair. His breeches were tucked into highred boots, and he wore a loose felt jacket patterned with the sameelaborate embroidery Travis had seen on Kaydessa's. On his head was ahat with a wide fur border--in spite of the heat--and that too boretouches of scarlet and gold design.
Still holding his lariat, the Mongol reached Kaydessa and stood for amoment, eying her up and down before he asked a question. She gave animpatient twitch to the rope. The coyotes snarled, but the Apachethought the animals no longer considered the danger immediate.
"This is my brother Hulagur." Kaydessa made the introduction over hershoulder. "He does not have your speech."
Hulagur not only did not understand, he was also impatient. He jerked atthe rope with such sudden force that Travis was almost thrown. ThenKaydessa dragged as fiercely on the lariat in the other direction andburst into a soaring harangue which drew the rest of the men closer.
Travis flexed his upper arms, and the slack gained by Kaydessa's actionmade the lariat give again. He studied the Tatar outlaws. There werefive of them beside Hulagur, lean men, hard-faced, narrow-eyed, theragged clothing of three pieced out with scraps of hide. Besides theswords with the curved blades, they were armed with bows, two to eachman, one long, one shorter. One of the riders carried a lance, longtassels of woolly hair streaming from below its head. Travis saw in thema formidable array of barbaric fighting men, but he thought that man forman the Apaches could not only take on the Mongols with confidence, butmight well defeat them.
The Apache had never been a hot-headed, ride-for-glory fighter like theCheyenne, the Sioux, and the Comanche of the open plains. He estimatedthe odds against him, used ambush, trick, and every feature of thecountryside as weapon and defense. Fifteen Apache fighting men underChief Geronimo had kept five thousand American and Mexican troops in thefield for a year and had come off victorious for the moment.
Travis knew the tales of Genghis Khan and his formidable generals whoswept over Asia into Europe, unbeaten and seemingly undefeatable. Butthey had been a wild wave, fed by a reservoir of manpower from thesteppes of their homeland, utilizing driven walls of captives to protecttheir own men in city assaults and attacks. He doubted if even thatendless sea of men could have won the Arizona desert defended by Apachesunder Cochise, Victorio, or Magnus Colorado. The white man had doneit--by superior arms and attrition; but bow against bow, knife againstsword, craft and cunning against craft and cunning--he did not thinkso....
Hulagur dropped the end of the lariat, and Kaydessa swung around,loosening the loop so that the rope fell to Travis' feet. The Apachestepped free of it, turned and passed between two of the horsemen togather up the bow he had dropped. The coyotes had gone with him and whenhe turned again to face the company of Tatars, both animals crowded pasthim to the entrance of the valley, plainly urging him to retire there.
The horsemen had faced about also, and the warrior with the lancebalanced the shaft of the weapon in his hand as if considering thepossibility of trying to spear Travis. But just then Kaydessa came up,towing Hulagur by a firm hold on his sash-belt.
"I have told this one," she reported to Travis, "how it is between usand that you also are enemy to those who hunt us. It is well that yousit together beside a fire and talk of these things."
Again that boom-boom broke her speech, coming from farther out in theopen land.
"You will do this?" She made of it a half question, half statement.
Travis glanced about him. He could dodge back into the misty valley ofthe towers before the Tatars could ride him down. However, if he couldpatch up some kind of truce between his people and the outlaws, theApaches would have only the Reds from the settlement to watch. Too manytimes in Terran past had war on two fronts been disastrous.
"I come--carrying this--and not pulled by your ropes." He held up hisbow in an exaggerated gesture so that Hulagur could understand.
Coiling the lariat, the Mongol looked from the Apache bow to Travis.Slowly, and with obvious reluctance, he nodded agreement.
At Hulagur's call the lancer rode up to the waiting Apache, stretchedout a booted foot in the heavy stirrup, and held down a hand to bringTravis up behind him riding double. Kaydessa mounted in the same fashionbehind her brother.
Travis looked at the coyotes. Together the animals stood in the door tothe tower valley, and neither made any move to follow as the horsestrotted off. He beckoned with his hand and called to them.
Heads up, they continued to watch him go in company with the Mongols.Then without any reply to his coaxing, they melted back into the mists.For a moment Travis was tempted to slide down and run the risk of takinga lance point between the shoulders as he followed Naginlta andNalik'ideyu into retreat. He was startled, jarred by the new awarenessof how much he had come to depend on the animals. Ordinarily, Travis Foxwas not one to be governed by the wishes of a _mba'a_, intelligent andun-animallike as it might be. This was an affair of men, and coyotes hadno part in it!
Half an hour later Travis sat in the outlaw camp. There were fifteenMongols in sight, a half dozen women and two children adding to thecount. On a hillock near their yurts, the round brush-and-hideshelters--not too different from the wickiups of Travis' own people--wasa crude drum, a hide stretched taut over a hollowed section of log. Andnext to that stood a man wearing a tall pointed cap, a red robe, and agirdle from which swung a fringe of small bones, tiny animal skulls, andpolished bits of stone and carved wood.
It was this man's efforts which sent the boom-boom sounding at intervalsover the landscape. Was this a signal--part of a ritual? Travis was notcertain, though he guessed that the drummer was either medicine man orshaman, and so of some power in this company. Such men were creditedwith the ability to prophesy and also endowed with mediumship betweenman and spirit in the old days of the great Hordes.
The Apache evaluated the rest of the company. As was true of his ownparty, these men were much the same age--young and vigorous. And it wasalso apparent that Hulagur held a position of some importance amongthem--if he were not their chief.
After a last resounding roll on the drum, the shaman thrust the sticksinto his girdle and came down to the fire at the center of the camp. Hewas taller than his fellows, pole thin under his robes, his face narrow,clean-shaven, with brows arched by nature to give him an unchangingexpression of scepticism. He strode along, his tinkling collection ofcharms providing him with a not unmusical accompaniment, and
came tostand directly before Travis, eying him carefully.
Travis copied his silence in what was close to a duel of wills. Therewas that in the shaman's narrowed green eyes which suggested that ifHulagur did in fact lead these fighting men, he had an advisor ofdetermination and intelligence behind him.
"This is Menlik." Kaydessa did not push past the men to the fireside,but her voice carried.
Hulagur growled at his sister, but his admonition made no impression onher, and she replied in as hot a tone. The shaman's hand went up,silencing both of them.
"You are--who?" Like Kaydessa, Menlik spoke a heavily accented English.
"I am Travis Fox, of the Apaches."
"The Apaches," the shaman repeated. "You are of the West, the AmericanWest, then."
"You know much, man of spirit talk."
"One remembers. At times one remembers," Menlik answered almostabsently. "How does an Apache find his way across the stars?"
"The same way Menlik and his people did," Travis returned. "You weresent to settle this planet, and so were we."
"There are many more of you?" countered Menlik swiftly.
"Are there not many of the Horde? Would one man, or three, or four, besent to hold a world?" Travis fenced. "You hold the north, we the southof this land."
"But _they_ are not governed by a machine!" Kaydessa cut in. "They arefree!"
Menlik frowned at the girl. "Woman, this is a matter for warriors. Keepyour tongue silent between your jaws!"
She stamped one foot, standing with her fists on her hips.
"I am a Daughter of the Blue Wolf. And we are all warriors--men andwomen alike--so shall we be as long as the Horde is not free to ridewhere we wish! These men have won their freedom; it is well that welearn how."
Menlik's expression did not change, but his lids drooped over his eyesas a murmur of what might be agreement came from the group. More thanone of them must have understood enough English to translate for theothers. Travis wondered about that. Had these men and women who hadoutwardly reverted to the life of their nomad ancestors once been welleducated in the modern sense, educated enough to learn the basiclanguage of the nation their rulers had set up as their principal enemy?
"So you ride the land south of the mountains?" the shaman continued.
"That is true."
"Then why did you come hither?"
Travis shrugged. "Why does anyone ride or travel into new lands? Thereis a desire to see what may lie beyond----"
"Or to scout before the march of warriors!" Menlik snapped. "There is nopeace between your rulers and mine. Do you ride now to take the herdsand pastures of the Horde--or to try to do so?"
Travis turned his head deliberately from side to side, allowing them allto witness his slow and openly contemptuous appraisal of their camp.
"_This_ is your Horde, Shaman? Fifteen warriors? Much has changed sincethe days of Temujin, has it not?"
"What do you know of Temujin--you, who are a man of no ancestors, out ofthe West?"
"What do I know of Temujin? That he was a leader of warriors and becameGenghis Khan, the great lord of the East. But the Apaches had theirwarlords also, rider of barren lands. And I am of those who raided overtwo nations when Victorio and Cochise scattered their enemies as a manscatters a handful of dust in the wind."
"You talk bold, Apache...." There was a hint of threat in that.
"I speak as any warrior, Shaman. Or are you so used to talking withspirits instead of men that you do not realize that?"
He might have been alienating the shaman by such a sharp reply, butTravis thought he judged the temper of these people. To face them boldlywas the only way to impress them. They would not treat with an inferior,and he was already at a disadvantage coming on foot, without any backingin force, into a territory held by horsemen who were suspicious andjealous of their recently acquired freedom. His only chance was toestablish himself as an equal and then try to convince them that Apacheand Tatar-Mongol had a common cause against the Reds who controlled thesettlement on the northern plains.
Menlik's right hand went to his sash-girdle and plucked out a carvedstick which he waved between them, muttering phrases Travis could notunderstand. Had the shaman retreated so far along the road to his pastthat he now believed in his own supernatural powers? Or was this toimpress his watching followers?
"You call upon your spirits for aid, Menlik? But the Apache has thecompanionship of the _ga-n_. Ask of Kaydessa: Who hunts with the Fox inthe wilds?" Travis' sharp challenge stopped that wand in mid-air.Menlik's head swung to the girl.
"He hunts with wolves who think like men." She supplied the informationthe shaman would not openly ask for. "I have seen them act as hisscouts. This is no spirit thing, but real and of this world!"
"Any man may train a dog to his bidding!" Menlik spat.
"Does a dog obey orders which are not said aloud? These brown wolvescome and sit before him, look into his eyes. And then he knows what lieswithin their heads, and they know what he would have them do. This isnot the way of a master of hounds with his pack!"
Again the murmur ran about the camp as one or two translated. Menlikfrowned. Then he rammed his sorcerer's wand back into his sash.
"If you are a man of power--such powers," he said slowly, "then you maywalk alone where those who talk with spirits go--into the mountains." Hethen spoke over his shoulder in his native tongue, and one of the womenreached behind her into a hut, brought out a skin bag and a horn cup.Kaydessa took the cup from her and held it while the other woman poureda white liquid from the bag to fill it.
Kaydessa passed the cup to Menlik. He pivoted with it in his hand,dribbling expertly over its brim a few drops at each point of thecompass, chanting as he moved. Then he sucked in a mouthful of thecontents before presenting the vessel to Travis.
The Apache smelled the same sour scent that had clung to the emptied bagin the foothills. And another part of memory supplied him with thenature of the drink. This was kumiss, a fermented mare's milk which wasthe wine and water of the steppes.
He forced himself to swallow a draft, though it was alien to his taste,and passed the cup back to Menlik. The shaman emptied the horn and,with that, set aside ceremony. With an upraised hand he beckoned Travisto the fire again, indicating a pot set on the coals.
"Rest ... eat!" he bade abruptly.
Night was gathering in. Travis tried to calculate how far Tsoay musthave backtracked to the rancheria. He thought that he could have alreadymade the pass and be within a day and a half from the Apache camp if hepushed on, as he would. As to where the coyotes were, Travis had noidea. But it was plain that he himself must remain in this encampmentfor the night or risk rousing the Mongols' suspicion once more.
He ate of the stew, spearing chunks out of the pot with the point of hisknife. And it was not until he sat back, his hunger appeased, that theshaman dropped down beside him.
"The Khatun Kaydessa says that when she was slave to the caller, you didnot feel its chains," he began.
"Those who rule you are not my overlords. The bonds they set upon yourminds do not touch me." Travis hoped that that was the truth and hisescape that morning had not been just a fluke.
"This could be, for you and I are not of one blood," Menlik agreed."Tell me--how did you escape your bonds?"
"The machine which held us so was broken," Travis replied with a portionof the truth, and Menlik sucked in his breath.
"The machines, always the machines!" he cried hoarsely. "A thing whichcan sit in a man's head and make him do what it will against his will;it is demon sent! There are other machines to be broken, Apache."
"Words will not break them," Travis pointed out.
"Only a fool rides to his death without hope of striking a single blowbefore he chokes on the blood in his throat," Menlik retorted. "Wecannot use bow or tulwar against weapons which flame and kill quickerthan any storm lightning! And always the mind machines can make a mandrop his knife and stand helplessly waiting for the slave collar to b
eset on his neck!"
Travis asked a question of his own. "I know that they can bring a callerpart way into this mountain, for this very day I saw its effect upon themaiden. But there are many places in the hills well set for ambushes,and those unaffected by the machine could be waiting there. Would therebe many machines so that they could send out again and again?"
Menlik's bony hand played with his wand. Then a slow smile curved hislips into the guise of a hunting cat's noiseless snarl.
"There is meat in that pot, Apache, rich meat, good for the filling of alean belly! So men whose minds the machine could not trouble--such mento be waiting in ambush for the taking of the men who use such amachine--yes. But here would have to be bait, very good bait for such atrap, Lord of Wiles. Never do those others come far into the mountains.Their flyer does not lift well here, and they do not trust traveling onhorseback. They were greatly angered to come so far in to reachKaydessa, though they could not have been too close, or you would nothave escaped at all. Yes, strong bait."
"Such bait as perhaps the knowledge that there were strangers across themountains?"
Menlik turned his wand about in his hands. He was no longer smiling, andhis glance at Travis was sharp and swift.
"Do you sit as Khan in your tribe, Lord?"
"I sit as one they will listen to." Travis hoped that was so. WhetherBuck and the moderates would hold clan leadership upon his return was afact he could not count upon as certain.
"This is a thing which we must hold council over," Menlik continued."But it is an idea of power. Yes, one to think about, Lord. And I shallthink...."
He got up and moved away. Travis blinked at the fire. He was very tired,and he disliked sleeping in this camp. But he must not go without therest his body needed to supply him with a clear head in the morning. Andnot showing uneasiness might be one way of winning Menlik's confidence.
