Blood of the Eagle/Chapter 9

returned to the palace with none too clear a head. As for his nobles, they were in far worse state, and all the wise maxims of Lao Tse, founder of the Taoist cult, were put to shame and scandal that day. In fact, when Ardzrouni left the summerhouse, it was fast becoming the scene of an orgy, and only the guards were able to follow him.

The afternoon was at its close, and darkness would come swiftly. Outside the entrance to the palace, which stood alone amid the gardens, Ardzrouni came upon Colonel Chou, who was speaking with a number of other officers. They saluted the son of heaven reverently, and rose at his impatient bidding. Ardzrouni questioned Chou as to his anxious face.

"Tumult threatens in the city outside," responded the noble bluntly. "Word just came to me that emissaries of Liu Ku are stirring up the people; and many of the archers in the quarters yonder are drinking wine."

"You have called in all the troops?"

"They are marching now to the city, son of heaven. Their going will leave all the lower valleys undefended and open."

"For that I care not." Ardzrouni gave a short laugh. "No word yet from that white man. Smith?"

"None."

"Keep your men in hand, in case of trouble to-night. Guard the gates. If Liu Ku is found, let him be seized and brought to me at once. Send word to all the faithful nobles and officers that they are to join me here. Think you Liu Ku will dare to attack me?"

"It is possible, son of heaven."

Ardzrouni laughed again.

"Then let him look to it!" he exclaimed in his grand manner. "Let him look to it! By the eagle, I will punish him! The eagle of Ardzrouni has brooked his insolence long enough, and will strike sharp talons into the fat frog!"

With this wine-inspired gem of bombast, Ardzrouni swaggered on into the palace.

The officers glanced at one another, awe gathering in their faces. From his fluent and too rapid French, they gathered that he intended to call down his sacred eagle from heaven to blast the eunuch. Ardzrouni would have been delighted had he seen the cheerful eagerness with which Colonel Chou went about executing his orders.

An hour later, when he came into the brilliantly lighted audience hall to attend the banquet which was a nightly feature of his reign, he found himself greeted with a new warmth and veneration from all there assembled. The rumor had spread, and had gained much in spreading. When Wemyss and his daughter appeared, they were told something of it by the guards, and Major Wemyss congratulated Ardzrouni warmly on his adroitness.

"Oh, the devil!" said Ardzrouni in dismay, when at length he understood. "Why, that is all a cursed mistake!"

"Then leave it so," advised Florence swiftly, although she could not repress a smile. "This mistake of yours may yet save the day."

"No," said Ardzrouni gloomily. "It will only plunge us in worse ruin. Accursed wine! I will have no more of it!"

So the feast began, with confidence and new assurance rising high among nobles and soldiers, but with Ardzrouni's gloom ever increasing. Nor would it have lessened could he have known what even then was passing at the gate of the palace, where Colonel Chou was in charge.

The gates of the inner city wall had been closed, and Chou had distributed all the palace soldiers from point to point in the hope that, thus broken up, they would make no trouble. A messenger from the West Gate, however, brought him ominous news.

"Lord, the fang shi who were kept in prison have been released, and are inciting the people. Armed bands from the countryside have entered the town, and many of the nobles are to be seen also."

"Should this not be told to the son of heaven?" asked one anxious officer.

"Why trouble him?" said Chou, and his black eyes snapped. "At the proper time he will call down his mighty bird from heaven to destroy these traitors. Until then leave him alone, and let us do our duty!"

He might have added that they could do nothing except to wait. However, he sent out messengers to meet the various small parties of soldiers converging on the city from the watchtowers and guarded stations in the lower country, with orders that they should hasten to reach the palace at the earliest moment.

Half an hour passed. Then, unexpectedly, Colonel Chou was summoned to the West Gate by word that a party of men sought entrance, one of whom was a white man. He hurried off to the West Gate at once.

Smith had arrived. Colonel Chou greeted him with some ceremony, for he remembered the American very well, indeed, having been a signatory to the previous treaty put through by Smith; then he hurried the foreigner to the palace.

They entered the audience hall just five seconds too late.

Like every one else in that hall, they stood paralyzed by the sight that met their eyes. Ardzrouni, at the upper end of the tables, had risen to his feet and was standing with outstretched hand, as if to speak; but no word came from his lips.

Smith, indeed, crossed the threshold in time to see the shaft in the air, and caught a swift glimpse of it as it struck. It was a little, light arrow such as boys use for small games. The thin, feathered shaft flew true to Ardzrouni's breast, pierced, and stood there quivering. It appeared as if by magic, and then the hum of the bowstring twanged out—so swiftly, so terribly, had the bolt been sped.

A guard cried fiercely, and smote with his dagger. Another guard—the man who had shot the arrow—fell dead.

No one noticed this, however. Every eye was fastened upon Ardzrouni. Even Florence Wemyss, her gaze wide with horror, had not moved.

Across the face of Ardzrouni flitted a brief, sad smile. His eyes found Smith, and he motioned. Then, suddenly, he collapsed and fell backward into his lacquered chair.

At this instant a gong began to boom somewhere in the palace. It was followed by a shot, by another shot, then by a ragged volley. Through a side door of the hall broke half a dozen men clad in quilted armor. One of them lifted a rifle and fired.

Pandemonium broke forth, and mad panic of confusion and terror. Men leaped to their feet, spurning the tables; shouts and screams filled the hall; the guards were helpless amid the crowd. This whole thing came like a bolt of lightning. Upon every one there seized a frenzy of wild fear.

Through the tumult pierced the band of assassins, their bullets smiting into the maddened throng as they made their way toward the fallen Ardzrouni and the girl who bent above him.

In this moment only one man acted. Smith, who stood near the doorway, lifted his automatic. The deep, bursting report of his weapon was followed by a scream. Again and again he shot, deliberately and steadily. To his fifth shot, the fifth of the assassins fell. The sixth was cut down by a guard. Not until then did Smith start for Ardzrouni's place.

Bewildered by this firing, yet gradually coming to their senses, the eddying crowd began to fight around the doorways. The center of the hall was clear, except of the dead, and Smith ran forward without check, reloading his hot pistol as he ran.

Major Wemyss had been helping Florence to raise up the senseless Ardzrouni. Now he turned and gaped blankly at sight of Smith. The latter nodded recognition.

"Is he dead? Speak up, Wemyss! I'm no ghost."

"Eh? No, he's not dead—unless the arrow was poisoned. I say, Smith, turned up in time for the shindy, did you?"

Smith uttered a curt laugh.

"Get his arm around your neck—take him between us," he said calmly. "Has he made any preparations for defense?"

"In his own part of the palace, I believe," replied Wemyss.

Smith touched Florence on the arm, and she looked up. A quick glance showed Smith that Ardzrouni was not dead, and seemed nowhere near death. Wemyss helping, they raised the unconscious figure. Across the hall came running toward them Colonel Chou, with the skirts of his studded armor coat flapping like the wings of some ungainly beetle, and with a pistol in his hand.

"The gates have been seized!" he shouted hoarsely. "My men in the gardens are attacked. Is the son of heaven dead?"

"Neither dead nor badly hurt," answered Smith, straining under the weight of Ardzrouni. "Tell one of these guards to lead us to his quarters. Draw your men in upon the palace, and save every shot. We will join you presently."

The guards were already gathering around. Officers were rallying the frightened nobles, shaming them into taking arms. Most of them, in fact, were ready enough to take a share in the defense, for nearly all were of Chou's party.

They bore Ardzrouni to his own place—a small group of buildings off the main structure of the palace. This was built as a separate unit, in the Chinese style, with a wall around the compound, and could easily be defended. Archers were already stationed outside, and Smith sighed in relief when they got Ardzrouni safely into one of the buildings and laid him upon a mat.

Picking two of the guards who had conducted them, Smith ordered the soldiers to remain and help Florence. He turned to her with a word of apology.

"We shall have to ask you to take care of him, Miss Wemyss. I'm afraid your father and I are needed outside. I fancy you'll find the arrow has glanced on a rib. The shock and the loss of blood put him out—that's all. Can you manage it?"

"Quite, thank you," she responded. "You showed up just at the wrong moment, eh?"

"That remains to be seen," said Smith, and chuckled slightly.

He signed to Wemyss, ordered the guards outside, and followed them, to find his six Tais hunters awaiting him there. Ninh Bang saluted, and Smith flung him a hasty greeting.

"Keep your boys with me. Now, Wemyss, will you take charge of the defense here? I'll find Chou—he's somewhere out around the gardens. I'll send you all the men I can pick up."

"Very well," said Wemyss. "I say, old chap, could you send one of these fellows after our guns? They're in our rooms in the palace."

Smith nodded and strode away. He sent two archers to fetch Wemyss's rifles, and then plunged out into the gardens to locate Colonel Chou.

This was no easy task. About the whole circuit of the walls fighting was in progress. Liu Ku had forced the West Gate, and was sweeping through the inner city and on to the gardens. Rifles and muskets spoke, and above the shouts of men began to rise the ravening roar of flames, as one of the wooden barracks along the wall was fired.

Blessing this flare of light which illumined the entire stretch of gardens. Smith came upon Colonel Chou. The latter had assembled his riflemen and was keeping up a steady fire upon the advancing throngs. These answered with musket and crossbow, bullets and quarrels singing through the night.

Smith drew the yellow noble aside.

"I'll take charge of these men," he said, "and we'll hold them in check. You attend to getting the nobles, and as many of your other men as you can find, into our compound. You know every one, and you can rally them quickly."

"Our cartridges are almost gone!" cried Chou, with a gesture of despair.

"I'll attend to it. Go!"

Smith turned to the armor-clad riflemen, and his voice cracked at them. His command of the language was sufficient to insure their obedience; and the six Tais hunters were a small host in themselves. The men scattered out among the trees and held their fire.

The fighting was now nearly over along the wall, as the remnants of loyal men were overcome, but loot and massacre were going forward in the inner city. Being now face to face with plunder and blood and fire, most of the nobles and officers had abruptly decided to throw in their lot with Colonel Chou—including many of those who had been of Liu Ku's party.

Smith was not a little astonished to perceive the number of men that Chou and his aids were rallying. The flaming barracks illumined the entire gardens by this time. Sweeping out from the inner city and the wall, masses of attackers came rushing in dense throngs, all converging upon the palace.

Smith sighed with regret.

"One machine gun would handle this mob," he reflected.

Then, waiting no longer, he lifted his automatic and began to fire.

At this signal, his scattered men brought their rifles into play. Bullets searched through the mob, halted the masses, shattered and broke them. These were looters, disorganized soldiers, and the rabble of the town, who had banded together behind Liu Ku; but as they broke, through their ranks there came forward a long company of archers, who sent arrows raining against Smith's outflung riflemen.

The archers, in turn, were broken and shattered by the bullets; but now there were no more bullets. Having done his best, Smith ordered his men to withdraw. The fierce glow of the flames was dying down; the sharp edge of the attack was taken off; and Smith felt confident that Liu Ku, having failed to overwhelm all opposition, would wait until morning for further ventures.

In this he was justified.