Koja thought back to the scrolls in his temple that showed ogres as hideous, blue-faced monsters locked in combat with Furo. 'They are treacherous and violent beasts. I would not trust them.'
'Hmmm.' Yamun sat wrapping the long end of his mustache around his finger, considering the choices. 'The Tuigan do not fight alongside beasts. Tell Tomke to have nothing more to do with them.'
Koja scribbled out the order and passed it along to the sealbearer.
'Unless you've got more to say about Tomke, tell me how Jad's camp was,' Yamun commanded after he'd struck his seal on the last order.
'Jad sets his camp at Orkhon Oasis, five hundred miles southeast of Tomke. His pasture and water are good, and he has held his men in hand.'
Koja suddenly paid more careful attention. He didn't know where the Orkhon Oasis was, but southeast was the direction of Khazari.
'How many?' Yamun queried.
'Five tumen-Hamabek, Jochi-'
'Enough, I do not need their names. What does he have to report?' Yamun scratched at his brow.
Chanar paused to pick at his teeth and spit into the mud at the edge of the carpet. 'His scouts said they traveled south into the mountains. The peaks were so high that snow never melted from the tops. There they found a mountain that breathed fire and spit stones at them. There was a race of little bearded men there who lived underground and prayed to the mountain. These little men were wonderful craftsmen of iron. The scouts claimed when they tried to cross it, the mountain killed many of them with magical burning stones. I think they lied and they were afraid to go on.'
'Mother Bayalun, have your wizards ever told you of a mountain like this?' Yamun queried.
The second empress looked as if she were asleep. At Yamun's words, she slowly raised her head. 'They have never spoken of such a place, my husband.'
Koja didn't remember any fire-breathing mountains to the southeast, but Khazari was on the edge of a great range of peaks. Such a strange thing was certainly possible.
'You should send a truth-seeker to question the scouts,' Chanar continued. 'Jad is too lenient with them.'
'How many scouts went out and how many came back?' Yamun took off his cap and set it on the ground.
'I did not ask,' Chanar replied, as if it was beneath him.
'Then how do you know they lied?' countered Yamun.
Chanar sat silent, brooding over the khahan's rebuke.
'Is Jad ready to march?' Yamun finally asked.
'His men are in hand, as I have said,' Chanar responded. He looked down, shielding the anger in his eyes from the khahan.
Koja made notes, both for the khahan and himself. He needed to find out more about Jad's-Prince Jadaran's- army: where it was, and what Yamun intended to do with it.
'And what of my youngest son, Hubadai? Has he heard from the caliph of Semphar?'
'No, Yamun,' Chanar said, using the khahan's familiar name. 'The caliph apparently didn't believe the demands I delivered at the council.'
'Scribe, were my demands unclear?' Both Yamun and Chanar turned their attention to Koja.
Koja cleared his throat and took the time to answer carefully. 'Khahan,' he said, watching Chanar out of the corner of his eye, 'General Chanar presented your demands quite clearly.'
'What exactly did Chanar Ong Kho demand?' Bayalun asked suddenly.
Koja's mouth went dry as he wondered just why Bayalun was asking. 'I apologize to General Chanar,' he began, 'if my words do not do him justice. It has been some time since I heard him speak. He said that all caravans crossing the great steppe would pay taxes to the khahan of the Tuigan.' Koja paused, rubbing the stubble on his head nervously.
'Is that all?' Yamun queried. Chanar sat up straight, ready to protest.
'Oh, no,' Koja said hurriedly. 'He also said that all kingdoms must offer you tribute or submit themselves to your rule.'
'It seemed quite clear to me, Great Lord,' Chanar offered.
Yamun nodded in agreement. 'So, the caliph has not responded?'
'No, Yamun,' Chanar noted. 'No word has come from Semphar.'
'Perhaps the caliph does not believe you have the power, Khahan,' suggested Koja. 'After all, Semphar has a large army and many cities. Indeed the caliph is called the 'Chosen Prince of Denier' and the 'Great Conqueror.' '
'The 'Great Conqueror' will learn,' Yamun said grimly. 'How many men does Hubadai have at present?'
'He has kept all his tumen, five of them, ready. I, myself, advised him to await your orders,' Chanar boasted.
'Did you?' Yamun commented. He smiled faintly, though any warmth in his expression was twisted by the scar across his lip. The lama could not decide if Yamun was being sarcastic or not. If he was, Chanar apparently did not notice.
'Yes, Yamun,' Chanar said proudly. The general sat up straighter and puffed his chest out.
'Scribe, send this to Hubadai,' Yamun ordered, settling back on his stool. 'He's to divide his command into three parts. He will lead one, and I'll send commanders to lead the others. No man of his army will go hunting except for food, to save the horses. If a man breaks this law, the first time he will get three strokes of the rod. The second time, he will have three times three. The third time he will get three times times three times three. His men are to have two weeks of food ready at all times. The horses must have sufficient fodder on hand. He must be ready to go to war on the day he is ordered.' Koja wrote furiously, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire pace of Yamun's order.
'His men must have their weapons ready,' the khahan continued. He signaled a servant to bring him a drink. 'Each man must have two lances, two bows, and four hundred arrows. Any man who doesn't will be beaten-five lashes of the rod. Any man whose horse is not ready will be beaten for the same. Any man who goes home to his family will be captured and given to his khan for punishment.'
Koja finished writing with a flourish. He held his brush poised, ready to resume writing.
'The morning audience is over,' Yamun abruptly announced. 'Tonight there will be a feast to honor the safe return of Chanar Ong Kho. Let all who welcome his return attend.'
Chanar was stunned. Although pleased about the feast, he expected a longer meeting with the khahan. Always in the past he had enjoyed Yamun's favor. Now, it seemed things had changed. Reluctantly, he stood to go, bowing to the khahan as he started to leave. Koja also got to his feet, wincing as his legs refused to unbend.
'Koja,' Yamun suddenly said, using the priest's personal name for the first time, 'I want you to stay. I'm curious about your prince.'
The priest waited as the khahan ordered, obedient if baffled. He also sensed Chanar's dark looks behind him. The general stalked away, keeping his counsel to himself.
'I will go now, too, my husband,' Mother Bayalun pronounced. Yamun didn't answer.
After Bayalun and Chanar had departed, the khahan ordered the servants to bring drinks, black kumiss for himself and hot wine for Koja. He once again lounged back on his stool. 'Now, Koja of the Khazari, I've let you learn something of our plans. Perhaps now you can tell me what sort of man your Prince Ogandi is.' Yamun yawned.
Koja paused, uncertain of what to say. How much could he reveal without betraying his lord? How much did he owe to the khahan?
Down the slope, Mother Bayalun caught up with Chanar as he was walking toward his white mare. She hobbled alongside him, prodding the ground with the tip of her staff.
'Greetings to our brave general,' she hailed. 'Will you take a little time to visit with an old woman?'
Chanar looked at her carefully. The sunlight gave her face a warm glow. It was a mature beauty, livened with self-confidence and will. Bayalun gave Chanar a smile, knowing and tempting. 'Old woman' was hardly the way Chanar would describe her.
'Greetings returned, Mother Bayalun,' Chanar replied. A part of him was intrigued. It was not like Bayalun to be so forward.
