necessary. I can only imagine the weight of information that must pass through Karakorum.’
‘It is the new world,’ Arik-Boke replied, closing the door softly behind them. ‘I think Genghis would not have understood it.’
Batu grinned, looking suddenly boyish.
‘He would have hated it, I know that much.’
‘I am not one to dwell too long in the past, Batu. That is why I invited you to Karakorum. You are my cousin and men speak well of you. We should not be strangers.’
‘You honour me,’ Batu said lightly. ‘Though I am comfortable enough on my lands. My tribute is a burden, of course, but I have not failed to make the payments yet.’
The hint was obvious enough and Arik-Boke nodded. ‘I will send a scribe to you to review the amounts. Perhaps some new arrangement should be worked out, for my khanate. All things can be remade, Batu. I have spent months simply learning the extent of my influence and power, but it is not all work. I see no reason why I should not reward those loyal to me.’
‘It is better to lead than to follow,’ Batu said. ‘It’s more tiring, but the rewards …’
Arik-Boke smiled slyly. ‘Let me show you the rewards,’ he said, gesturing for Batu to follow. ‘My brother Hulegu described a seraglio in Baghdad. I have begun something similar here.’
‘A seraglio?’ Batu replied, pronouncing the strange word carefully.
‘A gathering of beautiful young women, dedicated to me. I have men in the slave markets with my funds, looking only for the youngest and best. Come, I will give you your choice, any of them that takes your eye. Or more than one, if you wish.’
He led Batu down a series of corridors, until they came to a door and two heavyset guards. Both men stood rigidly in the presence of the khan and Arik-Boke swept past them, opening the door onto sounds of laughter and running water. Batu followed him in, his interest growing.
A small courtyard was revealed beyond, set with lush plants and with a covered walkway running around it. Batu saw six or seven young women and he noted Arik-Boke’s wolfish smile broaden. Around the courtyard were simple chambers with beds and a few ornaments.
‘I keep them here until they are pregnant, then move them out to other rooms in the palace to have the children.’
‘They are … wives?’ Batu asked.
Already the women were scrambling up at the khan’s presence, some of them kneeling on the polished stones. Arik-Boke laughed.
‘I have four wives, cousin. I do not need more of those.’
He gestured to one young woman and she came forward with fear in her eyes. Arik-Boke raised her chin with his outstretched hand, turning her head to the right and left so that Batu could see her beauty. She stood very still as he dropped his hand past her neck and opened her robe, revealing her breasts. He lifted one with rough fingers and the girl tensed. When Arik-Boke spoke again, his voice had roughened.
‘What a delicious weight on my hand. No, Batu, these are for pleasure and children. I will have a thousand heirs. Why not? A khan should have a strong line. Choose any of them. They will give you a night to remember.’
Batu had seen the girl’s wide pupils and understood the sweetish smell in the air was from opium. He showed Arik-Boke nothing as he nodded pleasantly.
‘My own wives are not so forgiving as yours, my lord khan. I think they would take a knife to my manhood if I took up your offer.’
Arik-Boke snorted, waving the girl away.
‘What nonsense, cousin! Every man should be khan in his own home.’
Batu smiled ruefully, struggling to find a way through that would not give offence. He did not want Arik- Boke’s women.
‘Every man has to sleep, my lord. I prefer to wake up with everything still attached.’
He chuckled and Arik-Boke responded, some of the tension easing out of him. He continued to fondle the girl’s breasts, distracted.
‘My brother Hulegu described rooms dedicated to pleasures of the flesh,’ Arik-Boke said. ‘With costumes and strange chairs and tools; hundreds of beautiful women, all for the shah.’
Batu grimaced, unseen. The girl stared with dull eyes as Arik-Boke pawed her. Her lips looked bruised and swollen, and in truth Batu found her intensely attractive. Yet, as Ogedai Khan had once told him, everything was about power. Batu did not want to put himself in Arik-Boke’s debt. He could sense the small man’s arousal coming off him in waves, almost like heat. Arik-Boke snuffled as he breathed through his mouth, the scarred face ugly in lust. Batu struggled with nausea as he kept his smile in place.
‘And Kublai, lord? I have not seen him in years. Is he returning to Karakorum?’
Arik-Boke lost some of his flush at the mention of his brother. He shrugged deliberately.
‘At his best speed, cousin. I have ordered him home.’
‘I would like to see him again, my lord,’ Batu said innocently. ‘He and I were friends, once.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
‘Be silent for the Son of Heaven, Emperor of the Sung, Lord Perpetual Nation,’ announced the imperial chancellor. His master raised a hand in greeting to Lords Hong and Sung Win as he came to the front ranks. Huaizong’s young face was flushed with excitement to be riding with such a host. He rode an elderly gelding as wide as a table. The amiable mount had been considered suitable for an eleven-year-old who could
‘See how they run before us!’ he called to his lords. Huaizong had come from the safety of the centre to the front lines to confirm the news his imperial messengers had brought. In the far distance, he could see the Mongol tumans riding north to the Chin border. The sight of it made him want to laugh in joy. His first act as emperor had been to drive them forth from his lands. Truly, heaven smiled on a reign that began in such a way.
It did not matter that his lords had been forced to push hard just to bring the enemy in sight. Emperor Huaizong was by then aware that the Mongols had begun to withdraw before his vast army was in range.
‘They are going home,’ he said. None of the closest lords chose to answer what was not a clear question.
Huaizong climbed up onto his saddle, so that he stood there with the careless balance of the very young. His horse ambled along beneath him, keeping pace with the multitude of soldiers and horsemen that stretched on either side and behind for as far as he could see. When he turned to look over his shoulder, Huaizong could only shake his head in wonder at the strength of the nation he had inherited. Soldiers marched in perfect lines, coloured banners fluttering. Those nearby averted their gaze from the emperor, while those further back marched stolidly, too far to see the small figure staring over their heads. Still further he looked, until the colours darkened and the marching lines resembled the distant waves of some dun sea, rippling across the land under the wide, blue sky. A host of peasants trudged behind on foot and in carts, carrying the food and equipment to support the soldiers. Huaizong did not heed those. His towns and cities teemed with them. When he noticed them at all, it was only as beasts of burden, to be used and discarded at will.
Huaizong turned back and dropped into his saddle with a pleased grunt as Lord Sung Win brought his horse alongside.
‘They will not stand to face us?’ Huaizong asked, craning to see the Mongol tumans over the land ahead. His voice was sour.
Lord Sung Win shook his head.
‘Perhaps they know the Son of Heaven rides with us today,’ he said, not above flattering the boy who held power over his house and line. ‘They have showed no sign of stopping for days now.’
‘I am only disappointed not to have seen a battle, Lord Sung Win,’ Huaizong said.
Sung Win glanced sharply at him, worrying that the boy would order them across the border into Chin lands just to slake his immature desire to see blood. The older man had a fair idea of the costs involved. As with most
