However it may have been in this case, it was a fact that when Knez Libor returned from his campaign, he received high praise from Batu Khan, who cared nothing at all that the force had melted away till little more than a fourth part was left to return to the Sajo. Batu had further uses for Libor.

When the Mongols had at last made off, and Moses and Talabor found that the shepherds had been killed, and the sheep, either eaten on the spot, carried off, or scattered in the woods, they first cautiously searched the neighbourhood, and then proceeded with no little labour, to bury the dead.

This done, Talabor made it his business to ride out every day, and was sometimes absent for hours, scouring the country while those at home were busy with the governor, strengthening the defences of the castle.

One morning, some days after the attack, Talabor asked to speak to Dora.

It had been a trying time for all in the castle, but Dora had gone back to her usual habits, and was looking after her household affairs as strictly and regularly as if nothing had happened. In one thing she was somewhat changed: her confidence in and dependence upon Talabor had much increased.

"Well, Talabor, is there any good news?" she asked gently.

"May I speak plainly, dear young mistress?" he asked, by way of answer.

"I never wish you to speak otherwise, Clerk Talabor."

"Then I will tell you at once, that you must not stay here any longer, mistress. The place is too unsafe now that the Mongols know it."

"Must not? and where could I go?"

"We have to do with dangerous enemies, and they are enraged, and will be certain to revenge themselves as soon as they can," he urged.

Dora sighed. "I know, Talabor, but I am not going to move till I hear from my father."

"Dear lady," said Talabor again, after a pause. "Dear mistress--perhaps you may have noticed that I have been out riding every day. I have scoured the whole neighbourhood for miles round, and I have learnt a good deal more than the mere rumours which are all that reach us here."

"And you have dared to keep it to yourself?"

"Yes, dear mistress, I have dared! I did not wish to trouble you for nothing, and one hears many things. If I have done wrong, G.o.d knows, I could not do anything else until I was sure."

"Talabor!" said Dora, quite disarmed, "and why do you speak now?"

"Because the time has come when I must either tell you the worst, or let you risk your precious life."

Dora shuddered but did not speak, and Talabor went on to tell her, what we already know, of the invasion, and of the successes already gained by Batu Khan. There were naturally many gaps in his narrative, and much that was already sorrowful fact, he knew only as rumour and surmise. But still, with all deficiencies it was abundantly evident that her present home was no longer safe, and that the very next week, day, even hour, she might be exposed to fresh and graver peril.

And still, what was she to do?

"Is that all?" she asked presently, "you have not heard anything of my father?"

"I have heard that he is alive at least," responded Talabor cheerfully, "though twice I heard the contrary----"

"And you kept it from me?"

"Why should I tell you what I did not believe myself, and what those who told me were not at all sure of? It was only a report, and now I know for certain that Master Peter is alive."

"Certain? how?"

"Truly," and he told how the news had reached him, adding, "so now we know where to find him, when we have the opportunity."

"Ah! that settles it then, Talabor. The proper place for a good daughter is with her father. I'll go to him!"

But while Dora was thus making up her mind to ride to the camp, events had taken place which, when they came to her ears, made her hesitate again as to what she ought to do.

Meantime, until they could decide, Talabor went on strengthening the walls in every way he could think of, and rendering the steep approach more difficult.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAMP FIRES.

Dschingiz Khan had died in 1227, and by the year 1234 his son and successor, Oktai, had completed the subjugation of Northern China. Two years later he sent his nephew Batu westwards at the head of 500,000 men, and in less than six years the latter had overrun nearly one quarter of the circ.u.mference of the earth.

The boundless steppes of Asia, and the lands lying between the River Ural and the Dnieper, with all their various peoples, were speedily brought under his sway. In the autumn of 1237 the Mongolian catapults had reduced Riazan to a heap of ruins; Moscow perished in the flames; and with the capture of Kieff, then the handsomest and best fortified city of Northern Europe, all Russia sank under the yoke of the Mongols, who ruled her for centuries. Kieff had fallen towards the end of 1240, and Batu had then divided his forces, sending 50,000 men to Poland, where they burnt Cracow and Breslau, and then proceeded to Silesia, where, on April 9th, they defeated an army of Germans, Poles, and Bohemians near Liegnitz; they then devastated Moravia, and entering Hungary on the north-west, presently rejoined Batu, who himself had made a straight line from Kieff for Hungary, entering it, as already said, by the pa.s.s of Verecz, on the north-east.

The third division of Mongols had gone south, skirting the eastern Carpathians and entering Transylvania at two different points.

One portion of this division had rejoined Batu at the river Sajo, in time for the pitched battle now imminent.

When first the Hungarian camp was pitched Batu had surveyed it from an eminence with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"There are a good many of them!" he exclaimed, "but they can't get away!

They have penned themselves up as if they were so many sheep in a fold!"

With the return of Duke Kalman after his victory at the bridge, all danger was believed to be over for the night, and save for a few merry-makers, the exultant army slept profoundly. There were few watchers but the King, the Duke, the Archbishop, and the few others gathered in the royal tent.

On the other side of the Sajo a different and wilder scene was being enacted.

The night was dark, but the Mongol camp was brilliantly illuminated by the blaze of a bonfire so huge, that its light shone far and wide.

It was never the Khan's way to extinguish his camp fires; quite the contrary. He wished his enemy to see them, and to suppose that his army was stationary.

Thanks to his innumerable spies, he was well aware of all that had taken place early in the night, and had not been in the least surprised by the recent sortie. It was, in fact, just what he had wished to provoke, by way of diverting the attention of the Hungarians from that which was taking place farther up the river.

If a few hundred scape-goats had perished, what matter? there were plenty more to take their place. And they were not even Mongols, but slaves, Russians, Kuns, etc., who had been forced into his service.

While these wretches, with the trembling Libor perforce among them, were bearing the brunt of the Hungarian onset, and being thoroughly beaten, Batu had sent a large force across the Sajo farther up and this, under cover of the darkness, was now stealthily drawing nearer and nearer to the Hungarian camp. It moved forward in absolute silence, and without attracting any notice.

Batu and several of his chief leaders were just now standing on a low hill, all mounted, armed, and ready for battle. Below was the Mongol host, mounted also and armed with bows, spears, and short, curved swords. A wild, terrible-looking host they were, short of stature, broad in the chest, flat in the face; with small, far-apart eyes, and flat noses. They were clad in ox-hide so thick as to be proof against most weapons, and consisting of small pieces, like scales, sewn together. So they are described by Thomas, Archdeacon of Spalatro, who had but too good opportunity of seeing what they were like. He adds that their helmets were either of leather or iron, and that their black and white flags were surmounted by a bunch of wool; that their horses, ridden bare-backed and unshod, were small but st.u.r.dy, well inured to fatigue and fasting, and as nimble and sure-footed in climbing rocks as the chamois. Scanty food and short rest sufficed these hardy animals even after three days of fatigue.

Their masters were not accustomed to much in the way of creature-comforts for themselves. They carried nothing in the way of stores or supplies, which gave them great advantage in the matter of speed; they ate no bread, and lived on flesh, blood, and mare's milk.

Wherever they went, they dragged along with them a large number of armed captives, especially Kuns, whom they forced into battle, and killed whenever they did not fight as desperately as they desired. They did not themselves care to rush into danger, but were quite content to let their captives do the worst of the fighting while they reaped the victory. In spite of their enormous numbers they made no noise whether they were in camp, on the march, or on the field of battle.

Thus far Archdeacon Thomas.

When to this description we add the fact that they had had continuous practice in warfare for years past, that a career of well-nigh unbroken victory had given them perfect self-confidence, while it spread such terror among those whom they attacked as paralysed the courage even of the stoutest hearts, it is not difficult to understand how it was that everything fell before them, and they were able to found an empire vaster than any which had before, or has since, existed.