The Mongoliad: Book Two

important? All the trappings of her prison, or freedom? She could earn money-somehow-and buy new robes. They wouldn’t be as fine as these, but what did that matter? The oils and lotions she would miss, but she had lived without them before. When the Mongols had conquered Qingyuan, she had lost everything. She had been just another frightened prisoner, a foreign woman to be shared among the rapacious Mongol warriors until she was nothing more than a dry and broken husk. She had caught Master Chucai’s attention, and it hadn’t been because of fine clothes or her painted face or the way she smelled. It had been her bearing and her tongue that had saved her, two things that could not be taken from her.

If she left everything, she would still be Lian, and that had been enough to save her once before.

Her roaming gaze fell on the small satchel she used to carry her teaching materials. It had a shoulder strap, a critical necessity, as it would leave her hands free. Could she climb or ride a horse or fight if she was carrying a bag? Shaking her head, she started to sift through the detritus of her belongings. She could leave it all, but that was what a terrified slave girl would do. She was not that girl. Sturdy shoes, a waterskin, food. She started to assemble a few critical things. Jewelry can be traded.

Dawn began to recolor the peaks of the palace roof, and Master Chucai watched the light drip down the glazed tiles. It would be another hour before the light warmed the glade in the Khagan’s gardens where he stood. He was not chilled, however; he had begun his qi exercises when the roosters in the camps outside the palace walls had started crowing, and he would be done long before sunlight reached the balconies on the upper floor of the palace.

He had slept very little in the past few weeks. The Khagan’s decision to go to Burqan-qaldun presented a number of logistical problems, and all of his time was devoted to organizing the expedition so that it could leave as soon as possible. Three weeks had passed already, and the Khagan’s patience was starting to become very brittle.

The Khagan’s drinking had lessened, and Master Chucai had congratulated Gansukh on his small victory, but neither man wished to lose the ground he had gained.

Chucai folded his long frame in half, bending impossibly far forward while keeping his legs stiff. His outstretched arms slowly scooped out and up as if he were gathering a large tiger in his arms. His fingers stiff, hands pointing toward the dawn-painted palace, he slowly lifted one foot and stepped under the imaginary tiger in his hands as if he were shifting it to his shoulders. His qi extended deep into the ground, balancing him as he shouldered the imaginary weight of the full-grown tiger. He rotated his hips, lifting his other foot and stretching it toward the southern wall of the garden. He held the pose until the muscles in his lower back quivered, mentally reciting several sets of the questions and answers that the Yellow Emperor put forth in his Inner Canon-questions that were meant to facilitate a cleansing of his mind and body in conjunction with the qi exercises.

After thorough consideration of the Yellow Emperor’s insights, he turned his shoulders and raised his arms. The tiger became an enormous stork, and he stretched to his full height in a stiffened parody of the bird’s own motion as it leaped into flight. He inhaled until his lungs were swollen with air; as he exhaled, he relaxed his arms and let his leg come back to the ground.

Only then did he acknowledge the fidgeting slave who had been standing nearby since before dawn had breached the eastern horizon. “Yes?”

“Master,” the slave bowed, “Mistress Lian has given me her travel trunk, and I have loaded it with the rest of your household.”

Chucai undid the ties on the sleeves of his robe, letting them down. “Did you examine it?”

“Yes, Master. Nothing but clothes and all the other things a woman carries with her.”

Chucai nodded absently. No food or money. No sign that she was harboring a plan to flee. He waved the slave away. Nevertheless, he would keep an eye on the Chinese woman. She had been in his household a long time, and he knew all her moods. She was hiding something from him, and while he suspected it was nothing more than a foolish infatuation with Gansukh, he was not entirely confident there wasn’t something else on her mind.

She was an intelligent woman, and she had a certain animal cunning that he knew better than to dismiss. If he were in her place, he would consider escaping during the trip to Burqan-qaldun. It would be the best time.

Chucai left the pastoral embrace of the garden, his mental energies restored by the rigors of his qi meditation. The garden was a placid calm within the swollen chaos of the palace grounds. Walking toward the main courtyard, he reentered the bedlam of the court’s preparations.

The activity that filled the courtyard was not unlike a city marshaling for war.

Hundreds of people swarmed the courtyard, jostling and yelling at one another. What had once been an orderly attempt at a long column of carts had collapsed into a confused mass. Supplies were being thrown, hauled, shoved, and haphazardly stacked in a frenzied effort to get everything packed on top of something with wheels. Crates of dried fruit and meat; barrels of airag, arkhi, and wine; bags of clothing and furnishings; medical supplies; the heavy bundles of dismantled ger; weapons-all manner of goods needed to sustain the hundreds of travelers who would be going with the Khagan.

Six hundred and four. Chucai knew the exact number, just as he knew how many barrels of arkhi and crates of dried meat were being loaded as well.

Six hundred and nine, actually, if one were to count the prisoners from Onghwe, but the Khagan, in a moment of lucidity a few days ago, had reminded him that these men would not be traveling any farther than Burqan-qaldun.

At the center of this activity was the Khagan’s wheeled ger. The hides stretched tightly over its wooden frame had been painted white, and the morning light made them glow. A team of eight oxen shifted impatiently, and behind the ger, six supply carts were being frantically readied.

Late the day before, Chucai had given the order that all preparations be completed by sunrise. Though he doubted Ogedei would emerge from his quarters until late morning, he wanted the caravan ready to depart the instant the Khagan climbed onto the platform of his movable tent. The caravan masters knew they would be left behind were they not ready, and none of them wanted to face the shame of having to chase the Khagan across the steppes.

In a rough line to the north of Ogedei’s ger and supply carts were three smaller wheeled ger: two for Ogedei’s wives, followed by one to be utilized by Chucai and a few other important advisors.

Ogedei had casually mentioned that he expected Gansukh to be given space in this tent, and Chucai had simply nodded. He had no intention of allowing Gansukh and Lian to sleep in the same ger. For a while, he had been incensed at the idea, more so when he realized his reaction was that of a protective father more than the Khagan’s senior advisor. Fortunately, Ogedei had mentioned the same expectation to Gansukh, and the young man had come to him to ask the best way to decline the Khagan’s suggestion. I need some…space, Gansukh had said. I would prefer my own ger.

Staring at the mob of Imperial Guard lined up behind the three ger, Chucai understood the need. Three jaghun of mounted soldiers, Munokhoi’s elite troop, and two companies of a hundred men each. Their supply train stretched out of the palace gates-cooks, doctors, livestock drivers, wagon masters. A small group of acrobatic entertainers caught Chucai’s eye as they performed up and down the supply line. Mukha had shrieked for half a day when she had been told they couldn’t come along; Chucai had relented finally, only to get her to shut up, and he secretly hoped a Chinese raiding party would confuse them for an unguarded supply caravan.

There was no sign of Gansukh or Lian. He was not concerned yet, but he kept an eye out for them.