Swords From the East by Harold Lamb Page A

has been decreed."
    "By whom?"
    Instead of answering, the executioner cast the loop of his cord at the boy's head. But Mingan gripped the pillar with both hands and swung himself out, over the railing. His feet found holds in the lacquer work on the tower's side, and he let himself down swiftly, escaping the clutch of the executioner's hand.
    Often in this way he had escaped his tutors, to snatch the forbidden joy of the stables and a ride under the stars.
    For the nonce he was free; if the emperor was his foe, he would not be safe, even beyond the wall; if, however, some favorite in the court had sought his removal, now that he was about to assume his rank and ride with the armies, there was hope. Mingan had been taught to obey implicitly the will of the Dynasty, yet he had in him a wild streak that would not let him be taken easily. He shivered a little, as he felt a surging impulse to turn and flee. To run would be to reveal his movements; to stay where he was would be impossible.
    Mingan folded his cold hands in his sleeves and walked slowly to the stables, beyond the gardens of the palace enclosure. Here a Manchu slave nodding beside the glow of a horn lantern started up at sight of a young noble, clad in the dragon robe.
    "I will ride," said Mingan composedly, "in a small hunting-chariot. Harness two horses to the shaft. Make no noise, for the Court sleeps."
    The Manchu held up the lantern to look keenly into his face. Recognizing the prince, he hastened away. Often in the last months he had obeyed similar commands from Mingan, yet this time he was prompter than usual and the prince saw that the two matched horses were of the best.
    "Wan sui!" breathed the slave, making his obeisance. "Live for a thousand years."
    As Mingan stepped into the chariot-a low, two-wheeled affair of light, gilded cedar-the man's glance fell upon his bootless feet. The slave hesitated, and put the lantern behind him.
    "The gate of the palace enclosure is barred and guarded, by the order of Chung-hi, the Discerning, the elder prince. Your servant dares to mention that the lane to the horse pastures behind the stable is not guarded. Drive with a loose rein and-forget not that the night air is not healthy for a Northerner."
    Understanding the covert warning, Mingan nodded and turned his chariot slowly in the stable yard, until he reached the grass lane. Here he tossed the reins on the horses' backs and let them graze, while he slipped to the ground and walked back through the gardens, starting at glimpses of stone pillars and evergreens trimmed to the height of a man. He knew well the bypaths of the gardens and presently crossed a bridge over a miniature lake, entering a grove of plane trees where the shadow was like a heavy cloak over his head.
    Feeling the tiles with his bare feet, he made his way to a wall illumined by the glow from an incense brazier. Taking fresh powder from the bowl under his hand, he dropped it on the smoking incense and kneeled in front of the tablet of his ancestors that hung in the shrine.
    "Honored Ones of the North," he whispered, bending his forehead to the tiles, "I, unworthy, have put upon my person the insignia of a warrior prince, casting aside the garments of childhood. In this hour I, inexperienced, will set my feet on the highway leading from the palace where my elders have taught me wisdom. It is my prayer that no act of mine will make it impossible for me to look into the faces of my illustrious sires with clear honor."
    Nine times he made the ko-tow, and withdrew, satisfied. The bronze tablets hung in their places as always, the smoke from the brazier curled upward; no sign was vouchsafed Mingan that what he was doing was dishonorable. His senses were keyed to perceive any omen. All he saw was a gleam in the upper corridors of one of the residence palaces of the enclosure.
    It was the only light visible, and he stopped to puzzle over it, realizing that it must come from the palace of Benevolent Youth, the