The Walking Drum by Louis L’Amour

“It must be wonderful, to live like that!” the Comtesse said.

“It is a matter of viewpoint,” I said, “the man on the pole has a crippled child whom he lives for. The sword-swallower is an orphan who knew neither father nor mother. They have many troubles, Comtesse.”

“You know them?”

“They are my friends,” I said, “and I can even do some of their acts.”

“You amaze me.”

“All things fascinate me, and I love skills. Then, who knows? Some day I may need to disappear. Who remembers the face of an acrobat?”

Days passed, and trade was good, but I was uneasy. Count Robert was not a man to yield when so much was at stake. Moreover, he was a good hater. I had seen it in his eyes. The fair had been one of our most successful, and now we prepared to leave. But we were not leaving alone, for after many conferences the other caravans planned to join the Hansgraf, as he was widely known for his business acumen.

No cloth of Flanders had been marketed in Kiev, although occasional cloaks of the material had been seen there, some sold by their owners for outrageous prices. An Armenian among us who had traded there said the market for silk and lace would be very good. The night before we were to leave, a message arrived. It was pressed suddenly into my hand at the market.

If you would know, the whereabouts of your father, come to the east postern.

Mounting Ayesha, one of the mares, I rode into town. Only Safia knew of my father, Safia and the Comtesse.

Leaving the mare in the shadow of the wall, I watched the postern.

Time passed and no one approached. Was this a trap? If Safia was here, where was she? For an hour I waited, but there was no sound, no movement.

And then I noticed something I had not seen before.

The gate stood ajar.

36

Beyond the gate … what?

For several minutes I studied the situation. Had the gate been open when I first saw it? I did not believe so, but how could I be sure?

Suppose Safia waited there? Or someone else? Perhaps an enemy?

No matter, if there was news of my father, it was news I must have.

So be it. If this was a trap, let them spring it. As I edged along the wall to the gate, my attention was riveted upon it. Stepping out from the wall, I started toward it.

Around me were two dozen armed men, all with drawn swords.

The open gate had been a trap. It had been the bait that distracted my attention, that demanded I focus upon it, a focus that distracted me from the buildings around and what might be there. The gate was pushed wider, and Count Robert came through.

“How did you know of my father?”

Count Robert’s smile revealed his even white teeth. He was pleased with himself. “My men listened around the market. There is always gossip … a word here, a word there.”

There seemed no escape. Could I reach him, kill him, before they killed me? Could I throw my blade, javelinlike, into his throat?

“Are you going to fight me then? Or avoid it?”

“Fight you? Why should I fight you? I shall simply have you whipped for your insolence, and when I am tired of watching you whipped, you will be hung.”

They formed a wide circle about me, but I had my sword in my hand and knew I would never be taken alive to be whipped like a slave.

A wild, weird cry sounded. My every sense became alert.

“Sheathe your sword!”

Those surrounding me stared about, wildly. The voices seemed to come from nowhere.

“Pay no attention!” Count Robert believed the shout had been for his men. “Take him!”

An instant I had hesitated, then slammed my blade home into its sheath. A rope dropped beside me, and grasping it high as I could reach, I went up, hand over hand! The rope had dropped from a balcony in the gate tower, and up there was Khatib with Lolyngton, one of the acrobats with whom I had rehearsed in Córdoba.

Luckily, not one of the soldiers of Count Robert was an archer, or my body would have bristled with arrows. As it was, they charged the gate tower, but as they did so, several of our men appeared with arrows in place and bows bent.

As I swung myself over the balcony rail, the Hansgraf appeared, stepping out upon the balcony. As usual he was clad in black, his only ornament a gold chain slung about his waist in two loops.

“Count Robert!” He spoke pompously, but with enormous effect. “Enough of this nonsense! We will not be distracted by you! My messenger has gone to His Majesty, who, as you may well surmise, is delighted by the heavy duties we pay from our combined companies!

“Now, sir, you and your men will drop your swords where you stand. I allow no time for discussion. Upon my ceasing to speak if one man still grips a sword, he will be killed by my archers.

“Then you will depart from Provins, being out of the city before the sun is in the sky, or my men will hunt you down and hang you like the dogs you are!

“We are busy men! We have no time to play at war with you! Drop your blades!”

Swords rattled on the pavement. Count Robert’s face was swollen with anger, for he stood in the light of the moon, clearly seen.

“Now,” the Hansgraf said, “March!”

And they marched.

When I came to our house beside the wall, the Comtesse ran to me. “Oh, you are safe! You are safe!”

“Thanks to the Hansgraf.”

“It is Khatib you must thank. He suspected something and went to the Hansgraf. I never saw men assemble so quickly.”

“Out upon the high road, Comtesse, there is no time. One is prepared, or one dies in the next breath. Attacks are without warning.”

We were silent, realizing with almost the same breath that we were standing in each other’s arms. She started to draw back, but I drew her gently to me, and she came closer, almost with relief. We stood that way for several minutes before I took her chin in my hand and kissed her gently on the lips.

“I have been a fool,” she said then.

“Who is not a fool? Often when one is in love one can only win by losing.”

She nestled her head on my shoulder. “There is probably something profound in what you have said, and I shall think about it, some other time.”

“Like many things, it only sounds profound, so waste no time upon it. There are other things to think of, and to do.”

She drew back quickly. “It is broad daylight, and—”

“We must pack. It will soon be time to move.” She wrinkled her nose at me, but we packed our few things. This time, however, we had taken advantage of the fair to supply ourselves with clothing and whatever might be necessary.

Because of the long trek across Europe, it was decided that we should remain together with our Hansgraf as leader. The associated companies would comprise more than a thousand men and, with their pack animals, would make a formidable assembly, but one that required much food, extensive grazing en route, and considerable advance planning. From the companies we had men who knew every bit of the route we must follow and the problems to be faced. Also, we must send forward scouts who would locate grazing for our animals, camping sites, and estimate the possible difficulties to be encountered.

Never shall I forget the morning when the five companies of the first contingent led off on the long march to Kiev. In the Frankish lands we would keep to two groups, but upon entering the wilder country, where towns were farther apart and castles even fewer, we would travel together but with an advance guard of fifty picked horsemen. Two companies would follow, and a short distance behind, the main body. Finally, there would be a rear guard of twenty horsemen.

We often sang as we marched, and there was always the sound of the marching drum, a sound I shall hear all my life, so deeply is it imbedded in the fibers of my being. The walking drum … a heavy, methodical beat marking the step of each of us. That drum rode on a cart at the rear of our column, and the pace of the march could be made faster or slower by that beat. We lived with that sound, all of us, it beat like a great pulse for the whole company and for those others, too, who had their own drums to keep their pace.

Our armor was not uniform, nor our helmets. Our weapons were of all kinds, although the number of our archers was greater in proportion than any army of the period. We also had a company of slingers whose skill with that weapon was beyond belief. Our horses and draft animals were of the best.

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