'Indeed. Chanar,' Bayalun whispered very softly, 'be watchful and ready to use your sword on my signal.' She tilted her head slightly toward the Shou soldier. 'Quickly now, we must be back before it grows too light,' she said in broken Shou, her voice loud enough that the warrior could hear her.
The three set out, following the trail back to the camp.
Bayalun took the lead, then came the Shou warrior, while Chanar brought up the rear. They wound their way along the ravine until they reached the spot where Chanar had hidden the sentry's body.
'Now,' said Mother Bayalun without turning around. Chanar instantly took the cue and, before the unfortunate soldier could react, the general's sword bit into the man's neck just below the ear. There was a soft snap as the blade sheared bone. The guard's severed head went tumbling down the slope. There was a quick jet of blood, then, legs and arms still flailing, the body toppled to the ground.
Chanar wiped his blade on the dead man's sleeve, then tore off a piece of the cloth to wipe his mail shirt clean. He retrieved the head and set it closer to the sentry Bayalun had killed earlier.
'Good. Leave the body where it is,' the khadun said from the top of the ravine. 'When the guards find the bodies in the morning, they'll decide the sentry was attacked by Shou enemies. No one will suspect us. Now, we must get back into camp.'
15
The excited jabber of men's voices echoed throughout the royal compound just before sunrise, even before dawn marked the horizon. The noise interrupted Koja's bath. What was normally a luxury, though unappreciated by Hodj, was today an icy ordeal. The air was cold and the water was melted from the snows outside. The commotion in the camp was a welcome excuse to get dressed.
Shivering, Koja quickly pulled on his new black robes, foregoing his normal careful inspection for vermin. He couldn't see how the Tuigan could stand it, lice-ridden as their clothes so often were. Putting the thought aside, he hastily pulled on the soft boots Hodj had found to replace his worn-out slippers. The priest made an incongruous figure-a bald, gaunt man, hardly a warrior, dressed in the rich black kalat of Yamun's elite bodyguard.
While Koja dressed, the clamor outside continued. Still fastening the toggles on his kalat, the lama scrambled through the door into the predawn darkness. A fire blazed nearby, casting shadows of the men standing around it. Two bodies lay on the ground next to the flames. Koja hurried over to the group-several common troopers, a few more of the Kashik, and stooped, old Goyuk. 'What is it, Goyuk Khan?' the priest asked.
'Come and look,' the ancient warrior answered, his wrinkled face marked by a grim frown. Scowling, Goyuk pointed at the bodies on the ground. Pushing past the troopers, Koja stopped in horror.
Spread on the ground were the corpses of two men. One was a Tuigan trooper with the front of his kalat soaked in blood from a gaping slit in his throat. The other was a strange warrior wearing a heavy quilted robe emblazoned with a single Shou character, the word for virtue. He wore the armor of a simple foot soldier. The warrior's head was carefully set next to the body.
Koja turned away. 'Who is it?' he gasped to Goyuk.
The old man deferred to the Kashik commander standing beside him.
'Master lama,' the Kashik explained politely, although his voice was cold with anger. 'This man was a soldier of the Naican ordu stationed on guard duty last night. They found him this morning, along with this other one. He must have met a Shou patrol, and they killed him. At least he killed one of the enemy before he died. It happened over there.' The commander pointed toward the northeast, where the ground fell away toward the plain below.
'Does Yamun know?' Koja asked of Goyuk.
The old man nodded, sucking on his lower lip. 'He sent me.'
Koja looked at the bodies again. There was something here that didn't seem right. 'Why?' he finally asked, almost to himself.
'Why did Yamun send me? Beca-'
'No, no,' Koja quickly corrected. 'Why were the Shou so close to the camp? Did anything else happen?' Koja asked the officer.
'Nothing was reported, master lama,' the commander replied.
'They were scouting us, and this man found them,' Goyuk said with finality. 'It is clear. Hang the body of the Shou up. Now there is work to be done.' Having voiced his opinion on the subject, the old khan stomped away, his armor jingling as he went. The Kashik followed after him.
Still unsatisfied with this simple answer, Koja knelt beside the dead trooper and gingerly examined the wound. 'How often does a warrior in battle have his throat cut so neatly?' Koja asked, turning to one of the guards who remained nearby.
The guard looked at him, puzzled. 'It is rare,' he admitted, 'but one of the Shou might have attacked him from behind.'
'And he still chopped the head off another?' Koja asked skeptically.
'It could happen,' insisted the man.
'Perhaps,' Koja said, though he was far from convinced. The priest stood, and the guards took the body of the dead enemy to hang out for display as Goyuk had instructed. As they were dragging the corpse off, Koja suddenly had an idea. 'Leave the head and this man,' he ordered, pointing to the trooper. 'Wrap the bodies and keep them safe.' There were some questions Koja wanted to ask the dead men, but first he had to rest and pray to Furo for guidance.
The men looked at him with horrified eyes, shocked by his grotesque request. Fearful of what they imagined were the priest's awesome powers, the guards gulped and carried out his orders.
His mind racing with speculation, Koja went back to his tent to have his morning tea and say his daily prayers to Furo. Hodj had already cleared away the bath and set out a pot of hot tea. The drink warmed the priest, driving away the predawn chill.
His tent provided only a brief haven from the commotion of the camp. Outside, the army was already beginning to array itself. Eventually coming out of his yurt, Koja took the horse his bodyguards held for him and rode to where Yamun's standard waved. The dark line of the Dragonwall was clearly visible on the plain below.
Yamun, his aides, and the army's commanders were clustered around the banner, debating strategies for the impending attack. In addition to the khahan there were a few others Koja recognized: Goyuk, Chanar, and the big brute, Sechen. The priest looked about for Bayalun, but she was nowhere in sight. There were others he only knew by passing acquaintance: minor commanders of the Kashik, Yamun's standard-bearer, and even his old, withered scribe. They formed an impressive group, dressed in their battle armor.
Yamun wore his finest armor in anticipation of his victory. The suit was made up of small metal plates, each fashioned like the scale of a dragon, gleaming gold. Silks of bright yellow, blue, and red hung from the armor, and a gorget of hammered steel circled Yamun's neck and upper shoulders. The khahan's red braids dangled from beneath the conical helm hung with silver chain mail and trimmed with the white fur of a winter wolf. Long metal bracers of polished steel, tooled with tigers and dragons locked in combat, were strapped over the chain mail that covered his forearms. In one hand, the khahan held a silver-handled knout of three thongs. A bowcase of green-dyed wyvern leather hung at his side, along with a gem-encrusted scabbard. The hilt that thrust out from the scabbard was plain and businesslike. A round shield of hammered gold and silver hung on his back.
Yamun's horse, a fine pure-white mare, was as lavishly decorated, fitted with half-barding that matched the khahan's armor. The saddle had high arches at the front and back, covered with plates of tooled silver, patterned with coiling and twisting vines. The saddle frame was covered with a cushion of thick red felt, trimmed with bits of silver mirrors and golden tassels. The bridle, rein, and straps across the horse's croup and withers were completely covered by bosses of gold set with turquoise. In the eastern sunlight, both Yamun and his horse were dazzling.
Those around the khahan, though not as lavishly dressed, were no less splendid. Each commander wore his best armor. Horses were carefully groomed and prepared. Koja was amazed; he'd never realized the khans brought
