The Mongoliad: Book Two

Clutching her bag tightly, she strode away, heading toward the crowded courtyard.

He watched her go, lost in thought.

“Have you seen Gansukh?”

The question frightened Lian. Not because she hadn’t seen Master Chucai approach, but for a moment, she panicked, terrified that he knew everything. He had seen them in the alley; he knew what was in the bag she held so protectively. “N…no, no,” she stammered. She had been walking alongside the mounted ranks of the Imperial Guard, her head down and eyes averted from the ranks of bored warriors. Trying to be as invisible as possible. “Not since yesterday,” she added, trying to shove aside all the memories of the encounter in the alley that were still scampering around in her head. “If I see him,” she said, getting herself under more control, “I will tell him you are looking for him.” She bowed slightly and made to continue walking.

“Wait.” Chucai had her pinned with his unwavering stare, as if he could-by force of his will-read all her secrets. He came to within half a pace and shifted his piercing gaze to the bag in her hands. “I thought we had loaded all of your-”

“Lian!” Gansukh strode up behind Chucai, an angry expression furrowing his brow. “There you are.”

Flustered, and not entirely sure why but thankful for the confusion nonetheless, Lian bowed toward the young warrior. “Gansukh,” she said, indicating Chucai. “Master Chucai was looking for you.”

Gansukh glanced at the Khagan’s tall advisor for a second before returning his attention to her. “And I’ve been looking for you,” he said. He pointed at the bag she was carrying. “More lessons on how to act?” he asked. “Aren’t we done with all that?”

Lian risked a glance at Chucai and shook her head. “Are you ever done learning how to hunt?” she snapped, suddenly finding herself on much more secure footing. “I told you we would continue going over the lessons until you had mastered them as well as you have the bow.” She stamped her foot. “Did you think you could escape me on the steppe?”

“I was really looking forward to staring up at the stars,” Gansukh groused, “instead of having my face buried in lessons on courtly manners.” He shot Chucai a pleading look, but the tall man only shrugged and stroked his beard. With a heavy sigh, Gansukh reached for Lian’s bag, which she handed over without hesitation. “This is never going to end,” he snorted as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

“Soon,” Chucai assured him. “It will end soon enough.” His gaze relented, though Lian was not convinced Chucai’s disinterest was entirely genuine.

Gansukh grunted and glanced around at the ranks of Imperial Guard. “Are we ever going to actually leave?” he asked.

“That all depends on the will of the Khagan,” Chucai said, and Lian bowed her head, a devotional acknowledgment of the Khagan’s magnificent being. “We are ready, though, so as soon as he desires to leave for Burqan-qaldun, we shall.”

Gansukh nodded smartly. “Good. I am looking forward to getting out of this stifling palace and sleeping under the open sky again.” He thumped a fist against the bag, and Lian tried very hard not to flinch, anticipating some sound from the purse of jewelry and coins. “I will not let these become my prison. I am a free man.”

He inclined his head to both of them and wandered off. Chucai and Lian watched as Gansukh and the bag disappeared into the crowd in the direction of the Khagan’s ger. His stride was exaggerated, and he swaggered slightly, as if he had just won a wrestling match.

“Horse boy,” Lian chirped. Privately, she wanted to run after him and kiss him-a fierce urge flushing through her blood, the encounter in the alley still fresh in her mind and body. But to openly expose herself in that way would be to destroy the illusion they were attempting to weave for Chucai. If they had even been successful in doing so- Chucai’s bland expression made it hard to tell.

“He has learned much about life at court, hasn’t he?” Chucai noted. “But for all of our help, he’s still a nomad of the steppes.” He waved a hand toward the palace walls. “Out there, it’s his world.”

Lian gave Chucai one of her alluring yet aloof smiles, hoping he would misread her expression as being disdainful of having to credit Gansukh with any intelligence whatsoever.

Secretly, she was counting on it. He had come to her aid so quickly and so effortlessly. Would it be that easy?

Toregene blocked the inner door to Ogedei Khan’s quarters, barking orders at anyone who dared to come within earshot-servants, guards, the other wives. Ogedei slumped on an enormous chair near the center of the room. Absently, he toyed with a large bone-handled knife in a leather sheath, oblivious to the chaos around him. Occasionally, a servant would wander close, intending to ask for the Khagan’s guidance on the disposition of a piece of furniture or of some robes, but the Khagan only grunted inconclusively-if he answered at all. Toregene would quickly snap at the confused servants, sending them scurrying away, smarting from the lash of her tongue.

Ogedei was ready to leave Karakorum. She could sense his indifference was born from frustration. He knew all the preparations were necessary, that to hurry them would only cause them to take longer, but all he yearned for was to begin the long journey to Burqan-qaldun. The Khagan, like most men, did not like to wait. It was a trait his father had truly mastered; unfortunately, it had not been passed on to any of his sons.

“We are leaving,” she announced in a shrill voice. “If it cannot be readied by the time the Khagan leaves this room, it stays here.” After a moment of shocked silence, the servants and other wives exploded into a frenzy of activity as they frantically tried to stuff more items into already overstuffed trunks.

Ogedei was looking at her, a small smile playing across his lips. He waved her over, and she crossed the room to sit at his feet, tucking her legs beneath her.

“What would I do without you?” he asked.

Her smile was genuine. “Thankfully, it is a question that will never be answered, my Khan. I am yours now and forever.”

Ogedei nodded; then his smile faded. “My wife, I must ask a favor of you.”

Toregene turned to face her husband more fully. “Anything, my Khan.”

“I want you to stay here.”

“What?” She stared at him, unable to fathom the reason for his request. She was First Wife. She was his woman; she was always at his side. That was her right. Why would he not take her with him? His face was impassive; if he suffered any qualms about his request, they did not show.

It is not a request.

“Of…of course, my Khan,” she murmured, dropping her gaze. She put her hand on his knee for a moment, and when he did not move, she let it slip off. “If this is what you want,” she tried. “If…if this is your wish.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Toregene saw that all activity in the room had ceased. The servants were trying to hide behind the trunks they were hauling from the room. The other wives had lost all interest in their final, desperate flurry of packing; Jachin was openly staring at Ogedei and Toregene, and she made no effort to hide her glee.

Toregene couldn’t imagine what offense she had given the Khagan. She tried to calm her thoughts, but Jachin’s delight was only making her angrier.

“Toregene,” Ogedei rumbled. He rested his hand on her head, stroking her hair, and his touch quieted some of her anger. “You are First Wife,” he said, “and there is no one I would rather have as the head of my household.” She leaned against his hand, grasping his arm so that he would not stop touching her hair. He raised his voice so that everyone in the room would hear his words. “I must go on this hunt, and to be successful, I must be able to concentrate. If I have to worry about-”

“You will not have to worry about me,” Toregene interrupted. She hadn’t meant to beg, but the thought of being passed over for Jachin was still too much to bear. “I will be like a shadow at midday. I will-”

He put his hand over her face, his fingers pressing against her mouth. “I need you to stay,” he said. “Someone must watch over my affairs. Someone I can trust.”

Behind her, Jachin gasped, and Toregene blinked heavily as her vision swam. She sagged as he removed his hand, and she tried to steady herself. “My Khan…” she began, but he was no longer sitting in the chair.