“You say that was one thing Arjasp hadn’t thought of,” Matt said slowly. “Does that mean he chased you to this city deliberately?”
“Not by choice, no.” John’s face hardened with memory. “I am sure he would have preferred to see his gur-khan slay me and all my army. They swept in off the steppe without warning and did not begin their unholy howling until they heard my own sentries raising the alarm. Then horrible monsters descended from the skies while others even more terrible clambered up our walls. Our sentries could not stand against them. A fireball burned our gate to ashes in seconds, and the barbarians rode in, howling like demons and laying about them with their swords. My soldiers did what they could to protect the people, but many of them died, and those who lived did so only because they retreated to the gate and out.” His face had become a rigid mask. “I led them in their retreat.”
Several of the guards made involuntary noises in their throats, but caught themselves, though their spears trembled.
John glanced up, annoyed, and admitted, “Well, true enough that I led from behind, staying between my troops and the monsters until we were clear of the city, holding them at bay with such spells as I could muster—but I rode to the head of the column as quickly as I could, for I knew that there would be no peace for us in our own land, but that the conquerors might not choose to follow through the mountain passes, where we could stop them by throwing rocks down upon them. Sure enough, they hesitated—long enough for me to lead the remnant of my army out into the desert, to this city, for only I knew of its existence, since it had long stood emptied of people. We set to repairing its defenses as quickly as we could, and by the time the gur-khan had ridden around the mountains and surrounded us, he saw our walls would be impregnable. He summoned up his monsters again, but I was ready for them now, and called up the spirits of the ancestors of this town to battle them. At last Arjasp set demons to pen us in and left, sure that we could no longer interfere with his plans.” He admitted it with bitterness. “For the last fifteen years we have only proved him right. Every time we sally forth, demons of gruesome and horrible aspect appear from the very ground itself and fall upon us. It is all we can do to win back to the city alive.”
“But we didn’t see any demons on our way in,” Matt objected.
“Oh, be sure you would not! They will let as many as wish come in to join us—but will tear to pieces any who seek to leave.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Matt said, frowning, “if Arjasp didn’t know you had unlimited rations. Since he didn’t, he probably expected you all to starve to death within a fortnight.”
“So did we,” John said grimly. “But after a week’s time the stewards came to me and reported that no matter how much grain they drew out of a granary during the day, it was full again the next morning—and no matter how much meat, dried fish, and dried fruit were taken from the other stores, they too were full again by mom. Even the heaps of fresh fruit were high again each and every dawn. I set my wizards to watching the night, but they could see nothing. At last I myself took up the vigil, and saw blurs so fast I could scarcely distinguish them—but I knew the form of the whirlwind, and thus discovered what passed in the night. Each evening we gather, every household, to thank our benefactors, and hope that they hear.”
“I shall be sure of it,” Prince Marudin told him.
“So of course Arjasp is plenty willing for his demons to let people in,” Matt said. “He thinks that every extra mouth will just eat up your limited stock of provisions that much faster—and he knows you’re too charitable to tum away any refugee.”
“Even so,” Prester John agreed. “I fear his spies may have told him we still live, though. Any day, his demons may tum upon any who come near.”
Matt shuddered. “Glad we made it in before the deadline. But how did Arjasp know to hit you first? Were you such an obvious threat?”
John’s smile was hard. “There has been a Prester John in Maracanda to hold back the barbarians for five hundred years; I am the twenty-fifth by that title and name. The first, the founder of my line, led a small band of Christians, fleeing from the Muslims in search of freedom to worship as they pleased. They found this valley, farmed, and prospered. Then came famine, and they had food when their neighbors had none. The first Prester John insisted that his folk act with Christian charity, welcoming people of all nations and sharing food with them, provided they were willing to live in peace with one another. He enforced that peace sternly, for hard labor had made his people hardy and hunting small game had made them doughty archers. Even the Kirghiz and the Kazakhs lived in truce in his country, as did the Turks and the Mongols.”
“Warlike peoples all,” Matt said, musing. “Didn’t he insist they had to become Christians?”
“He did not, for he realized that they who seek baptism only to gain food are likely to fall away when famine ends. Nonetheless, the goodness and charity of his people, combined with their strength, induced many of the immigrants to convert.”
“And as time went by with their descendants growing up in a Christian environment, more and more of them converted?”
John nodded. “They did indeed, until we became as you find us—almost all Christian, but with Muslims and Buddhists and others welcome to come, and to worship as they please.”
“I take it the immigrants intermarried with the original pioneers.”
“They did,” said Prester John, “and taught one another their martial arts. As time went by, we became one hybrid people with the blood of Russians, Persians, Turks, Mongols, and Chinese—indeed, all the peoples of Asia—coursing in our veins, with their combined wisdom in our heads and hearts.”
“And their blended prowess in the arts of war in your arms,” Matt concluded.
“Indeed,” their host confirmed. “The third Prester John established athletic contests in these arts, and the young folk strove to perfect their skills, while those who were mature exercised to keep them at their peak. Late in his reign, when the Mongols and Turks allied against us, the Prester led his armies to a battle that was hard fought but brief, routing the hordes completely.”
“And every Prester John since has had to fight off his own attack by barbarians?”
“Yes, and sometimes twice in one reign. If the wild horsemen of the steppes have never penetrated to the West before, you may thank my predecessors. Even my father, in his youth, fought off an alliance of Mongols under a chieftain named Temujin.”
Matt’s scalp prickled as he recognized the man who had held the title “Genghis Khan,” universal ruler, in his own world.
Prester John’s face darkened and his head bowed. “I alone have failed in this duty.”
“Only temporarily,” Matt said briskly. “That does explain why Arjasp realized his gur-khan had to hit you before he attacked anyone else, though.”
“Indeed,” Prester John said, his expression grim. “Arjasp and his gur-khan seem to have learned from the mistakes of those who attacked and lost before them. They struck first at my capital of Maracanda, as I have told you. Later, fugitives told us that they sacrificed those few of our nobility whom they caught, slew them with ceremony on the altars of their god of deceit and blood. Then the gur-khan left Maracanda and all the kingdom with a strong garrison and rode west to conquer in their tens of thousands, with little to stop them save armies who knew not of their coming.”
“Surprise has served them well,” Matt said, “and their reputation for being both unbeatable and cruel to their enemies, but merciful to those who surrender, has taken them even farther. Of course, legions of the conquered have been quick to convert to the worship of Ahriman.”