Read Swords From the East for Free Online Page A

in the belly, and rode off, saying that he sought a hut for the sick man and a doctor to close up his wound."
    "He is an old buck, that one," admitted Aruk grimly. "He has a horned soul in him. Three dead with three thrusts! I could do no more with my arrows."
    "Aye," responded Yulga, hanging up her bow; "you might do that, Aruk, among the suckling litter of boars up in the larches-if the old sow were away."
    "By the mane of my sire!"
    Aruk bared his white teeth. He caught the girl by the luxuriant coils of hair that hung down her breast. Her round face he held close to his, while his anger melted.
    "Ho, I will bind your tongue for you yet. Now bring me kumiss to drink, for I ride to Koh with news. This dawn there were beneficent omens in the pass."
    Curiously enough, his sudden act quieted the girl, who looked at him long and withdrew for the mare's milk he sought.
    Aruk emptied the bowl Yulga brought him at a gulp and wiped his mustaches.
    "Ho, it would have been better for the tall warrior if he had left his body and that of his servant in your keeping. The baksa will make short work of him in Kobdo. They like not these Krits who come from the other end of the earth and oppose the baksa."
    "The other Krit was a holy man."
    A light came into the mild eyes of the Christian falconer.
    "He was an envoy from God. And this one is like him, in face."
    "The other had dove's eyes; this one is a falcon," Aruk retorted.
    Aruk jumped into his saddle, pretending not to look at Yulga.
    "He has a horned soul in him. Tfu! The killing of him would be worth seeing."
    Chapter II
    The Candles on the Altar
    The man called Hugo did not ride far with his wounded servant. The shattered body he supported easily in his arms, for he had a strength that matched his great stature. The bay horse bore them both easily.
    But the life of the old servant was flickering out. Too many times had Hugo witnessed this passing of nature on the battlefield to mistake it now. So he turned the bay aside from the road into a faint path that ran among the pines.
    It brought him to a hut of logs. Hugo carried the servant to the door, kicking it open with his heavy boot. As the windows were only slits in the logs, Hugo could make out the interior of the cabin only vaguely. Noticing that it was empty, he laid the old man on what appeared to be a long bench and covered his limbs with his own cloak.
    He went out and presently returned with his leather cap full of fresh, cold water, taken from a nearby stream.
    "A sorry bed, Pierre," he observed in French, "and a poor drink to speed you on your way. Now a goblet of good Burgundy-"
    "Ah, monsieur le comte, no."
    Pierre lifted his thin head wistfully.
    "If there were but a priest in this wilderness! Or-or a holy spot where the sign of the cross is to be seen."
    Hugo Arnauld, Count of Hainault, castellan of Grav, once captain of musketeers at the court of Paris, then colonel in the border armies of the King of France-the man who now called himself Hugo-tugged at the small tuft of his beard and raised one shaggy eyebrow without answering.
    Having no good to say of priests or the houses of priests, he held his peace before the dying man. Seldom indeed had he failed to speak boldly to priest or minister, wherefore was he now an exile from France, publicly proclaimed an intriguer.
    It did not make much difference to Hugo. It rather amused him that the worthy ministers should now be hoarding the revenues from Hainault which he had squandered so royally when he was young. Doubtless, he reflected, the very intelligent courtesans who were great ladies were drawing their tithes from the ministers.
    "Ali, monsieur," breathed Pierre again, his thought returning with the habit of a lifetime to his master, "there will now be no one to-to brush your cloaks, to set out your linen and clean your swords."
    Hugo laughed. Facing the gleam of sunlight in the door, now that his hunting-cap was off, gray was to be seen in his black hair. His dark