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  It was the same situation in China and on Cipanghu. Only the maharajahs preserved a certain independence, limiting themselves to the payment of tribute to their powerful neighbors.

  At least the main expedition would not be leaving Earth for several months, if everything went as planned. Thibaud Gaudin thus had ail the time he would need to serve his apprenticeship in that crushing power.

  For their part, the high officers of the Order never stopped working. William's two lieutenants, Peter of Sevry and Otto of Granson, tirelessly scoured the Templar Empire to gather the elite of the soldier-monks. Some arrived at Chang-Chu along the caravan routes, leading countless quite useless horses; others used the flying ships to reach the army's camp.

  The Grand Hospitaler gathered drugs, opiates, elixirs and narcotics, along with wadding and linen bandages for the wounded. Djaffar the Wise had also supplied certain powders sovereign against infections, which they had found in the Baphomet ships. They bad not yet fathomed the secret of their manufacture, but they had been faithfully reproduced thanks to the duplicator.

  As for the Draper, he gathered cottes, surcoats, armor, chausses and helms. He also had recourse to the duplicator to assemble strange airtight armor, to let the men breathe in the void of space. With these there was no fear of suffering cold or heat; the marvelous devices assured a moderate temperature under any circumstances.

  Provisioning the ship with food was under the supervision of the Seneschal. The Templars, it developed, did not fare well on the fetid broth produced by the strange alembics which equipped the ships. These hardy warriors needed meat when they fought and even had a papal dispensation to eat meat on Friday and other fast days. So they had to alter certain ships to provide stables where they could raise cattle, pigs and chickens.

  Stocks of jerky and smoked fish had been put aboard each ship to allow a crew to survive for several weeks if it found itself cut off from the rest of the fleet. The American possessions furnished an abundance of buffalo meat prepared in strips—the natives called it pemmican. And from Cipanghu came delicious, perfectly preserved fish. From China, bushels of a grain capable in itself of assuring the warriors* survival for months, if they added a kind of condiment called soy sauce.

  The Chaplain installed portable altars aboard each ship and collected countless ciboria filled with the Host

  Finally the Turcopole received some light, fast ships, which had been mostly stripped. They were to play a role derivative of the light cavalry, making lightning strikes on enemy lines. Their hand-picked crews underwent intensive training on the Earth’s moon.

  Meanwhile the ship meant to spy on the Baphomets was checked over with the utmost care.

  Marco Polo, freshly arrived from his commercial chicaneries in foreign lands, took command of that

  The crew consisted of the lama Houen-Lun, Brother Joubert, Djaffar the Wise, and three brave lads with nerves of steel: the Tholon brothers, natives of a hamlet near Auxerre.

  Garin, the Templar, was the intelligence in the family . . . had the knack of involving himself in the subtlest intrigues and enjoyed success in discovering the best guarded of secrets.

  Clement, a giant of a man with a wild temper, was a former woodcutter. His strength was incredible. He had amazed the army by carrying on his back an Arab horse with a wounded fore-pastern. The big fellow had quite cheerfully gotten under the poor animal’s chest and walked the brave

  beast along on his hind feet The Mongols, horrified at this centaur, had let him pass unhindered, and Clement whom they had all given up for dead, had appeared in the camp at daybreak.

  Guiot called Red Guiot because of his flamboyant beard, had the craft of a fox and a thiefs quickness. He had no equal at discovering provisions hidden by peasants and treasures concealed by nobles. That won him a comfortable purse which he dissipated shamelessly in endless partying.

  The three had one thing in common: aquamarine eyes and an astonishingly keen stare.

  Garin was sorely aggrieved by his brothers’ immoderate affinity for escapades, but for all his threats and exhortations he never succeeded in setting their feet on the straight and narrow path, and he said ceaseless prayers for the salvation of their immortal souls.

  Despite all differences the three brothers got along like thieves at a fair, and their signal bravery had gotten them assigned to go with Marco Polo.

  ",S blood,” Guiot swore, wolfing down a mouthful of grease-dripping mutton. “Here we are in another damn mess. I heard what the Venetian said, I heard it every bit I know how to use a sword or a good axe, a point that’s all... and here somebody wants to shut us up in some flying pot to go God knows where in the clouds. Garin, you're smart, you’ve got to explain it to me.”

  "May the Holy Spirit help me illumine your obtuse brain,” the Templar groaned. “You’ve naturally heard about the Baphomet who gave us the fireballs.”

  “Sure. I even saw drawings of him—a goat’s head with big horns, black fur all over his body, clawed hands and a pair of blue breasts. Man'd think he was seeing Lucifer in person.”

  “Good. Well, these devilish creatures came to conquer our Earth. Our reverend Grand Master, Lord bless him, unraveled their subtle tricks and killed their envoy. But there’s still a threat hanging over Christendom. That despicable race surely won’t stop at one check. One day or another the Baphomets will return in force to enslave us. So William of Beaujeu has decided to anticipate them and create a powerful fleet to destroy the enemy in his lair. . . . "

  ‘‘I’ve got it. Only why are we going to go with the Venetian in just one ship?”

  "To spy on them, for pity’s sake! Marco Polo has long experience in trade with foreigners, and we’re going to pass ourselves off as peaceful traders come from another planet.” "Huh, I don’t get it,” Clement grumbled in his turn. "They’re going to see in a minute that we’re not Baphomets.” “Indeed they are,” Garin growled with a weary sigh. “That’s why we’re taking along a Tibetan to deceive the enemies who may observe us with his psychic powers. He’ll read their minds and we’ll disguise ourselves to look like traders from some race accustomed to deal with the Baphomets. So we’ll be well received and we can spy on them.”

  “But I can’t say a single word in their damn language,” Guiot objected.

  “Don’t fret yourself. All that’s been taken care of. The learned Brother Joubert has been able to make adaptations on the talismans from the captured ships. We’ll undergo a treatment that will let us speak their language.”

  “Hah, I get you. We just have to get into one of their fortresses to know what they might be cooking up, right?” “Right, my dear brother.”

  “Botheration, we got to go fly in the clouds and fight with funny-looking pipes that spit fire. Me with no axe, I’m good for nothing.”

  “You can still cany it off. As for the new weapons, you’ve teamed to use them. Besides, in the events of the tourney we’re giving tonight there’re going to be prizes for the best shots. You can show off your skill.”

  “You think we can be in it?”

  “Sure. Our ship doesn’t leave until tomorrow dawn.”

  William of Beaujeu, as it happened, had reckoned that the best way to occupy these warriors who had come in from the far horizons was to offer them one of the entertainments they so prized.

  A tourney would be a choice attraction for the army—acquainting them all with the new machines that Djaffar and Joubert had set up.

  Of course there would be some classic sword bouts. The knights, clad in the new armor, would meet in a closed field. But even more ambitious maneuvers had been arranged: bursts of real fire where the crews of mangonels, catapults and firetubes could set off their shells with a full charge of powder and test their versatility. (The latter weapons had been devised by the Chinese. They let them hurl the Baphomet thunderballs far afield.)

  Most of all William wanted to test the knights’ reaction to the explosion of the fireballs, which they had never had to face, and he als
o wanted to test a new battle tactic. In a real encounter the Baphomets would have a profusion of various explosives, and any wave assault would amount to suicide.

  Under the guise of a preventive crusade aimed at enemies of the Holy Church (with papal approval) the Grand Master was actually hiding vast ambitions, ambitions which would have horrified any who might have plumbed the depths of his soul.

  For him the universe was a new prize dangled before his rapacity. The empire of Earth no longer satisfied him once he realized the existence of stellar kingdoms much more vast He would never, of course, openly admit his desire for hegemony: the prayer “Non nobis Domine, sed Nomine Tuo da gloriam" eased his conscience; he had almost succeeded in persuading himself that he was acting purely for the cause of the Lord and the True Faith.

  So on this clear morning, when a stiff breeze was lifting the proud gonfalons, banners and standards, a huge crowd had gathered on the plain as well as in the silken and tapestried galleries.

  Noble ladies and almond-eyed princesses arrayed in their most beautiful finery entered upon a battle no less fierce than the knights—oriental belles opposed to occidental. Each combatant had chosen a lady whose colors he bore, and she would become queen of the tourney should her chosen warrior gain the victory.

  All over the camp, knights and squires were polishing their weapons. A melee of combatant troops were to meet afoot, after the joust which opposed the two men armed with lances.

  Then would come the gauntlet of fire, and after that, a mock combat with Baphomet weapons. Finally, at evenfall, the victors would meet at a banquet, if their health permitted and they had not broken too many teeth.

  The honor of directing the tourney fell to marshal Peter of Sevry. His blushing broad face showed that he must have poured himself a few libations, but that hardly stopped him from having a lordly bearing when he headed for the Grand Master with all his house about him to ask permission to have the knights enter the lists.

  William drew his sword, the heralds blew deafening fanfares and the marshal lifted his baton.

  The future adversaries lowered their visors and entered the closed field, which was divided into twenty parallel strips.

  Hospitalers and Teutons prepared to meet Templars, while Kubla’s warriors met French, English and German knights.

  The Mongol chief was sitting in the gallery overhanging the lists, beside William, John of Villiers and Conrad von Thierberg, which was evidence of the esteem the Grand Master had for him.

  The laws of the joust provided that the combatant must strike the opponent on shield or helm. Blows below the belt were forbidden. Arbiters would watch to see that these rules were scrupulously observed.

  In a thunderous racket, the destriers’ shoes hammered the earth; the plumes of the crests streamed like living birds as the combatants lowered their stop-ringed lances, gathering speed.

  Although the armor was the new model, they had all charmingly modified the helmets with allegorical figures and monsters to such an extent that the brave jousters looked like creatures from another world.

  In the first shock of encounter, nearly half the knights bit the dust Some got up swearing, stalking off to hide their shame in their pavilions, others staying flat on their backs while their squires came running to attend to them. Happily, a few of them were seriously hurt, for the strange metal of the armor had an exceptional resistance. On the other hand, more than one man hit on the head had cracked incisors and molars in a flood of blood.

  The survivors went back to the starting point

  Among them stood all the officers of the Templars, Hospitalers and Germans. This time the victors were going to meet new opponents. So John of Grailly found himself face-to-face with a giant Teuton, Siegfried von Orselen.

  As for Otto of Granson, he was going to have to meet Godfrey of Antioch, a Hospitaler of wide renown.

  For the second time the horses stretched out at a gallop, the shock of lances resounded like the axeblows of woodsmen in the forest, the earth shook under the impact of unseated bodies.

  This time four knights alone stayed in the lists, Otto of Granson, John of Grailly, Siegfried von Orselen and Thibaud Gaud in. As it turned out, the Frenchman and his adversary bad broken their lances in vain.

  Finally, after a last engagement, a single combatant remained ahorse: Thibaud Gaudin, who proudly took a little trot around the enclosure to lift his lance to the chosen of his affections and to come to receive the palm of victory from the hands of William of Beaujeu.

  “Surely, noble friend, no more valiant warrior could receive this reward,” the Grand Master exclaimed, delighted. “With you, I am assured that my empire will be in good hands in my absence.”

  John of Villiers and Conrad von Thierberg paid him compliments too, but with teeth clenched. Assuredly, they took no pleasure in the defeat of their own party.

  But the melee which followed let the Hospitalers and the Teutons distinguish themselves. After two hours of merciless combat, in the course of which helmet plumes flew in the wind, armor was hammered, shields battered until their devices were rendered illegible, the two victors received in their turn the prize they had so painfully gained.

  Now the sun was high over the horizon and hunger and thirst made themselves felt. Everyone went back to his quarters to gather strength for the struggles of the afternoon.

  This time it was a very different entertainment. The armies united around Chang-Chu were split into two groups, mixed companies of Chinese, Tartars and the three rival orders of soldier-monks.

  The point of the maneuver was this: the blue army had to try to cross the river under the fire of the red army, which was dug in on the plateau.

  A spectacular innovation: judges and observers flew over the field of combat in the ships at low altitude to gain a better view of the whole, to appreciate the results of fire and to decide at a glance on the number put out of action.

  Of course, the site of these war games had been chosen at a far distance from the palace, and the wind direction carefully studied so that the pernicious emanations might be rapidly dispersed far from the combatants.

  William and the two other Grand Masters stood on the peripheries of the battle aboard a vessel with the Baussant arms painted on its hull.

  The blue army followed Conrad von Thierberg, while the red drew up under the banner of Marshal Peter of Sevry.

  Before and behind the lines, the company flags served as targets for heavy missies. The light arms were trained on the combatants, who found themselves spattered with black paint mixed with Chinese powder. These were judged out of action.

  From the start, it appeared to the observers that the war-horses could not he used in this kind of encounter. Frightened by the unaccustomed explosions, they reared and fled in every direction. Kubla’s elephants mirrored the panic in the ranks of the blue army.*

  *Marginal note of The Templar of Tyre: This definitely put them out of the expedition. Besides they were too heavy for the ships.

  William seemed to have foreseen these incidents. His orders urged the knights to scatter themselves wide and to get down in the individual holes dug by the squires the moment fire began.

  The soldier-monks judged such a position unworthy of them, so they remained in the open, but when the horses and elephants came rushing down on them, they plunged headfirst into these despised refuges.*

  *It must be admitted that a few inexperienced marksmen had put in real charges. The army mourned about fifty dead. The disaster was hidden from the soldiers to preserve their morale: they were told that the missing had been sent on a long reconnaissance mission on the borders.

  But as a whole the maneuvers eloquently demonstrated that the knights did not have sufficient training to fight enemies using explosive weapons.

  When the first wave of attackers crossed the watercourse, the defenders, instead of staying in the trenches and maintaining a fire supported with light arms, rushed to the assault waving their swords. A number of them were mowed d
own—or rather spattered with paint—which in no wise hindered them from continuing to fight, contrary to all the rules.

  Some, having regained their horses, even led a heroic charge, making an ideal target for the fire of the arbalesters.

  All of it ended in a total muddle, which brought mocking smiles to the faces of the Grand Master of the Teutons and that of the Hospitalers, while William’s countenance grew longer and longer.

  His armies had decidedly forgotten the things they had learned in previous campaigns. They had to be completely taken in hand regarding land encounters as well as the shipboard combats which would surely bring more disappoint-

  By heaven's grace, William had time enough to attend to it. He thanked the Lord for having gone ahead in training his army, because if the Baphomets had attacked Earth at this moment, they would have won an easy victory over these poor simple souls who still believed in the power of the sword.

  “All that must change," William said dryly to his officers and the other Grand Masters, at the banquet which found them together again that evening, under the vast tents set up in the open air of the palace gardens.

  Only the dignitaries shared in this communal feast. The infantry, on the other hand, was in a sad state. Deafened by the explosions, half strangled by the dust clouds, their legs incapable of carrying them, and their eyes burning, the unfortunate Tholon brothers had thought their last hour had arrived when a heavy missile fell a little short and exploded not far from them.

  “God’s blood,’’ Guiot swore weakly, “I really thought I was in hell. Now I know what chastisement’s awaiting me for my sins. Garin, you were right to tell me not to go running after bawds—”