The Mongoliad: Book Three

Burchard groaned and leaned forward, remaining-for the moment-in his saddle. He fumbled with a pair of Mongol arrows-both had struck him high in the chest-and tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a spatter of dark blood. His hand slipped, leaving a red smear across his horse’s mane, and then he too fell to the ground.

Tegusgal spoke, and Pius translated, his voice a quavering whisper. “He’ll kill all the knights he pleases. It is not for you to tell him otherwise.”

Dietrich ground his teeth and stared at the Mongol commander. His hand drifted toward the hilt of his longsword, and a number of Mongol bows creaked as their owners drew them back.

Tegusgal held them off with a raised hand. He spoke again, his voice brusque and commanding.

“He will consider your proposal,” Pius whimpered, “While you show him the camp of the Shield-Brethren. Should he be victorious there, he may grant you-”

“What?” Dietrich demanded as Pius faltered to a stop.

“He may grant you a head start,” the priest wailed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Graymane’s Ride

The striking difference between a normal night’s rest and the camp being constructed in the valley beneath Burqan-qaldun was the frenzy of the preparations. Jachin had watched the proceedings for a little while but had grown quickly bored by the monotony and had returned to the warmth of her nonmoving ger. Lian remained outside, happy to have an excuse to remain free of Second Wife-for a little while at least.

Since her conversation a few days prior with Chucai, the freedom she had been enjoying in moving around the camp had become tainted with uncertainty-an effect she was certain Chucai had considered in the course of his chat with her. She had served with Master Chucai long enough to be fully aware of his predilection for manipulating people-she had even taught him one or two tricks-but that didn’t make being the recipient of his machinations any easier. More so when he spoke truly, without the sort of slippery guile that he normally employed when trying to get people to do what he wanted. She suspected Chucai’s true intimation in their conversation about the frog and the stone was not that the stone would swamp the frog-it was an amphibian, after all, and could survive being dunked in water-but that the sudden weight of the stone would strip away the frog’s hiding place. She would be exposed- bait meant to entice a predator. In this case: Munokhoi.

She recalled the incident with the drunk guards in the alley. She had been able to put them off with the warning that she was protected by someone powerful in the Khagan’s court, but that protection was only valid if the men threatening her concerned themselves about repercussions for their actions and if that protective shield was actually true. If she lost Chucai’s protection, then what would stop Munokhoi from assaulting her? In fact, given the animosity between the Torguud captain and Gansukh, she feared Munokhoi would relish assaulting her as it would provoke a reaction from Gansukh. Such a reaction would be the only excuse he’d need to get into a deadly fight with the Khagan’s young pony.

Lost in thought, she wasn’t aware of the approach of another person until a hand around her waist from the left. She jumped at the sudden touch and found herself reacting in a way that Gansukh had taught her-right thumb on the back of the stranger’s hand, grabbing the edge of the fingers with hers and twisting up and out as she spun sharply to her left. As she spun around, raising her arm, she recognized the man who had snuck up on her.

“Ah!” Gansukh’s mouth was twisted, caught between trying to smile and holding back a grimace. He brought his right hand up to her neck in a mock counter-a real warning that she was hurting him. “I should have never taught you that wrist lock,” he said, massaging his wrist after she let go.

“No, having taught it to me, you should have known better to sneak up on me like that.” She punctuated these last two words with a finger to Gansukh’s chest.

Gansukh laughed, pretending to be physically shaken by the force of her strident poking. “Ah, what’s a little rough contact between-” He paused, reading something in her expression. “What is it?” he asked, his tone losing its levity.

“Nothing,” she said.

He caught her hand as she tried to withdraw it, and pulled her toward him. She minced forward, letting herself be dragged close. “I don’t believe you.” He touched her hair lightly, his hand hesitating-wanting to stroke her head, but not wanting to be so affectionate in public. “I haven’t seen you for several days.”

“I know. Second Wife has been in need of company, and Chucai asked me to report on her moods.”

Gansukh smiled. “And he needed you for that? I could tell him her moods. Anyone could tell him her moods.”

Lian fought the urge to smile. “Also, as long as I am with Jachin, I am…” She wrestled momentarily with telling Gansukh what had been on her mind right before he had grabbed her. She fought the urge to lean into his touch-to let him hold her. “It’s… Munokhoi,” she said.

“Ah, I see.” Gansukh nodded, a thoughtful expression tightening his face. “Has he threatened you?”

Lian shook her head. “I haven’t see him, but I know he hasn’t forgotten what happened during the Chinese raid.”

“He is to be relieved of his command,” Gansukh said. He moved to Lian as he spoke, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t know when it is going to happen, but I suspect it will be soon. And when he is stripped of his rank, he will no longer be protected by the rules of the Torguud.”

This was all the confirmation she needed for her suspicions. Without the rules of the Torguud mandating his behavior and protecting him from reprisals, he would be even more liable to seek revenge for the injuries done to his reputation. “Are you…?”

Gansukh shook his head, a hard smile pulling back his lips. “Do you take me for a scared boy from the steppes?” he asked, mock outrage in his voice. There was a gleam in his eyes, an excitement that was equally frightening and thrilling to see.

“Staying with Second Wife is a good idea. It puts you out of harm’s way,” Gansukh continued, trying to soothe Lian’s fears. Trying to pretend that he hadn’t revealed the hunter’s delight in his heart.

She felt a momentary pang of guilt as relief washed over her. She didn’t need to be the bait that drew Munokhoi out. She didn’t have to put herself in danger.

Gansukh was already planning on hunting Munokhoi. He knew what had to be done, and he had no reticence about doing it.

A commotion beyond the nearest rank of ger gave Lian an excuse to break away from the confusing elation and horror brought on by this train of thought, and they separated to a more discrete distance as they hurried through the ger.

A large crowd gathered near the Khagan’s ger: courtiers, merchants, Torguud-both on horseback and on foot-and other riders, bearing the sky-blue banners of the Darkhat. As she and Gansukh approached the verge of the crowd, a ripple ran through the host as they parted to allow someone to approach the steps of the wheeled ger.

Ogedei ascended to the platform and turned to address the crowd. He planted his feet firmly on the wooden platform, standing more firmly than he had earlier, and when he spoke his voice was strong and clear. As if his words came straight from an equally clear and resolute mind. “I have offered my prayers to the spirit of my father and to the spirits of our ancestors, Borte Chino and Qo’ai Maral. They have accepted my prayers and blessed my sacred mission.” The Khagan paused as the audience cheered his pronouncement, and Lian noticed he did not lean on the railing for support while he waited. “We have come to this sacred land to hunt a great beast, a martial