The Mongoliad: Book One

“And?”

“His military advisors.”

“Besides his military staff, Gansukh, who can influence the Khagan?” Her pleasure at his answer was fading.

Gansukh gave her question serious thought. Who else is there? He looked at the trees again. An unbroken line. Interwoven branches. Only as strong as each individual tree. That was how an army was successful. How it survived on the field of battle. Each man knew his place and held it. “Why don’t you just tell me what answer you are looking for?” he burst out. “I promise I’ll remember it.”

She was silent for a minute, and Gansukh stole a glance at her and was taken aback by the expression on her face. She wasn’t angry.

“Because,” she said, her tone less charged, “if you reach the answer yourself, you’ll be more likely to remember it yourself. If I watch you shoot arrows, will I become a better archer?”

Gansukh smiled. “Well said,” he laughed. But he pressed once again, instinctively sensing a weak spot in his teacher’s armor. “But give me a hint.”

Lian removed her hands from her sleeves and lightly toyed with the collar of her jacket. “Does the general have his wife on the battlefield with him?” she wondered.

Gansukh snorted. “Of course not.”

Lian remained silent, and realization dawned on Gansukh. “But the Khagan has all of his wives here…and they spend more time with him than any general or advisor!”

Lian raised her hand toward her temple and her body trembled as if she were going to collapse. “By the ancestral spirits, I thought we were going to be here all morning!”

Gansukh laughed more readily this time. “I would not mind,” he said, which was not entirely true. But the sight of her pretending to faint had dispelled her stony countenance, and under his direct gaze, Lian blushed. The color in her cheeks only made her more comely.

“Gansukh,” she said, turning and wandering slowly toward one of the stone benches, “you must learn who has influence on the Khagan and, just as importantly, what they do to get that influence.”

“What do you mean?” He followed her, well aware that was exactly what he was supposed to do.

“How do captains in the field gain the respect of their general?”

“We execute his orders. Successfully. We win battles and return with the heads of our enemies.” Gansukh forcefully planted an imaginary stake in the ground between them.

Lian flinched. “Charming,” she said. The blush was gone from her face. “In court, you don’t need to bring… trophies… in order to gain favor. There are more subtle ways.”

Gansukh pondered how he had gone astray again for a few seconds, and then he nodded. “Yes, I see. Sex. Food. Drink. Entertainment.” He started a count on his fingers. “Information. Counsel: how to deal with the Chinese, how to respond to the matters of the court…”

He stared at the spread fingers of his hand, and when Lian prompted him to continue, he didn’t even hear the elation in her voice. He was already up to seven, more than he had fingers on a hand. He shook his head. “Too many,” he said. “It’s too complicated. There are too many people with influence.” He closed his hand into a fist and nodded grimly at the shape it made. This I understand.

She touched his fist, and he jerked slightly. He had thought she was farther away from him, and her sudden proximity startled him. She gripped his hand with both of hers and, with gentle pressure, coaxed his fingers to relax.

“There are different kinds of battlefields,” she said softly. A long strand of her hair hung across her face, and Gansukh wanted to brush it back, but his hand wouldn’t move. “On some of them, you can’t see the enemy as well as he can see you.” She raised her head slightly, looking up at him through the strand of dangling hair. “Is that not true?”

Gansukh nodded. She was still holding on to him, her fingers supporting the weight of his hand.

“And do you not use different tactics for these different battles?” She shrugged and let one set of fingers release their hold on him. “For some of them, is brute force the best way to win?” She let go completely, and his hand dropped, suddenly heavy. She smiled as he tensed, grabbing at his right wrist with his left hand.

“Everyone can see a fist coming, Gansukh,” she murmured as she retreated a few steps and sat on the bench. “You must learn to hide your intentions better. Use your environment to your advantage. What kind of warrior is the man who rides in plain sight with his sword held in his hand?”

“A dead one,” Gansukh said. He let his hands fall at his side. The muscles in his lower back, the ones that were stiffest after a night in the bed, were starting to tighten. He sat down heavily on the bench next to Lian. “Yes,” he nodded, “that is a good way to think about it, Lian.” His shoulders slouched.

“One last lesson for this morning,” said Lian, and Gansukh unconsciously let out a heavy sigh. “Does the general have favorite captains?”

“Favorites?” Gansukh repeated. It was a strange word to use in reference to battlefield command, and he tried to understand why she had chosen it. “He has captains he trusts more than others…”

“And do those favorite captains try to embarrass the other captains in the general’s eyes?”

Gansukh looked at Lian. The bench wasn’t very wide, and he could smell her fragrance, an aroma muskier than the scent of the flowers surrounding them. She was uncomfortably close.

“We gain our general’s respect by winning battles,” he said after taking a deep breath. “We do not concern ourselves by trying to embarrass the other captains. We do not have time for such games, and if we engage in them, we are not concentrating on keeping our men alive. If other captains fail in battle, they do so on their own. That is embarrassment enough.”

Lian clapped her hands lightly. “Yes. Do you see the difference now?” When Gansukh shook his head, she continued, momentarily forgetting her resistance to providing him the answer. “Your general gives you orders and treats you with respect because he knows that you are a capable man, that you will carry out his orders well and, in doing so, enable him to win the battle. He would not give you those orders otherwise.”

She let her hand fall on his forearm. “But here at court, there are no orders to follow, no battle to win for the honor of the Khagan. So how does he know whether you are a worthy commander?”

Gansukh sat very still, as if her hand were a bird he didn’t want to scare away. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “I would have to tell him,” he said.

“In some ways, the battlefield is more civilized than court,” Lian said, somewhat wistfully. “A man’s worth is exactly how much glory his actions bring to his general.” Her tone hardened. “Here, a man’s worth is calculated by what he says and by what others say about him.”

Lian removed her hand, placing it in her lap. She directed her attention at the still surface of the pond. “You may have already made enemies, Gansukh,” she said softly, a note of caution in her voice.

Gansukh grunted, acknowledging the truth in her statement.

An expression flickered across Lian’s face, a tightening of her mouth and eyes. She hid it well, and if he’d been looking at her face, he wouldn’t have seen it. “Oh?” she said. “Who?”

She already knows, he thought. “Munokhoi,” he said, and he knew he was right when she didn’t react to the name. He waited for her to turn her head; he wanted to see what her eyes would tell him. Like you are hunting a deer, he thought. Patience will be rewarded. He recalled the way she had looked over her shoulder at him that night in the bath. Knowing he was watching her, making eye contact one last time as she left. She’ll look. I can wait her out.

She did, sooner than he thought she would, and she blinked when she saw the smile on his face. She looked away quickly, but not before he caught a flash of unguarded emotion in her eyes.

“He is threatened by you?” Lian asked, her eyes focused on the pond, as if she were trying to see beneath its placid surface.

Gansukh didn’t see any reason to answer the question, not when she already knew the answer. Not this time.

Lian pushed back her shoulders, collecting herself. “How are you going to deal with him?” she asked, her challenging tone returning, pushing him.