Hawk of the Hills | Page 6

it, or you wouldn't be here. All right;
here I am. Tell me what you've got to say and I'll answer you."
Willoughby discarded the plan he had partly formulated. The sort of

diplomacy he'd had in mind wouldn't work here. This man was no dull
bully, with a dominance acquired by brute strength alone, nor was he a
self-seeking adventurer of the politician type, lying and bluffing his
way through. He could not be bought off, nor frightened by a bluff. He
was as real and vital and dangerous as a panther, though Willoughby
felt no personal fear.
"All right, Gordon," he answered candidly. "My say is soon said. I'm
here at the request of the Amir, and the Raj. I came to Fort Ghazrael to
try to get in touch with you, as you know. My companion Suleiman
helped. An escort of Orakzai met me at Ghazrael, to conduct me to
Khoruk, but when I got your letter I saw no reason to go to Khoruk.
They're waiting at the mouth of the gorge to conduct me back to
Ghazrael when my job's done. I've talked with Afdal Khan only once,
at Ghazrael. He's ready for peace. In fact it was at his request that the
Amir sent me out here to try to settle this feud between you and him."
"It's none of the Amir's business," retorted Gordon. "Since when did he
begin interfering with tribal feuds?"
"In this case one of the parties appealed to him," answered Willoughby.
"Then the feud affects him personally. It's needless for me to remind
you that one of the main caravan roads from Persia traverses this region,
and since the feud began, the caravans avoid it and turn up into
Turkestan. The trade that ordinarily passes through Kabul, by which the
Amir acquires much rich revenue, is being deflected out of his
territory."
"And he's dickering with the Russians to get it back." Gordon laughed
mirthlessly. "He's tried to keep that secret, because English guns are all
that keep him on his throne. But the Russians are offering him a lot of
tempting bait, and he's playing with fire--and the British are afraid he'll
scorch his fingers--and theirs!"
Willoughby blinked. Still, he might have known that Gordon would
know the inside of Afghan politics at least as well as himself.
"But Afdal Khan has expressed himself, both to the Amir and to me, as

desiring to end this feud," argued Willoughby. "He swears he's been
acting on the defensive all along. If you don't agree to at least a truce
the Amir will take a hand himself. As soon as I return to Kabul and tell
him you refuse to submit to arbitration, he'll declare you an outlaw, and
every ruffian in the hills will be whetting his knife for your head. Be
reasonable, man. Doubtless you feel you had provocation for your
attacks on Afdal Khan. But you've done enough damage. Forget what's
passed--"
"Forget!"
Willoughby involuntarily stepped back as the pupils of Gordon's eyes
contracted like those of an angry leopard.
"Forget!" he repeated thickly. "You ask me to forget the blood of my
friends! You've heard only one side of this thing. Not that I give a
damn what you think, but you'll hear my side, for once. Afdal Khan has
friends at court. I haven't. I don't want any."
So a wild Highland chief might have cast his defiance in the teeth of
the king's emissary, thought Willoughby, fascinated by the play of
passion in the dark face before him.
"Afdal Khan invited my friends to a feast and cut them down in cold
blood--Yusef Shah, and this three chiefs--all sworn friends of mine, do
you understand? And you ask me to forget them, as you might ask me
to throw aside a worn-out scabbard! And why? So the Amir can grab
his taxes off the fat Persian traders; so the Russians won't have a
chance to inveigle him into some treaty the British wouldn't approve of;
so the English can keep their claws sunk in on this side of the border,
too!
"Well, here's my answer: You and the Amir and the Raj can all go to
hell together. Go back to Amir and tell him to put a price on my head.
Let him send his Uzbek guards to help the Orakzai--and as many
Russians and Britishers and whatever else he's able to get. This feud
will end when I kill Afdal Khan. Not before."

"You're sacrificing the welfare of the many to avenge the blood of the
few," protested Willoughby.
"Who says I am? Afdal Khan? He's the Amir's worst enemy, if the
Amir only knew it, getting him embroiled in a war that's none of his
business. In another month I'll have Afdal Khan's head,