Horselords

time.

'Furo protect me!' he blurted in astonishment, shattering the enchantment. Suddenly, the scene was gone. Blinded, Koja stumbled back, groping his way down the slope. Sechen leaped after him, convinced the lama had gone mad. The priest eluded his grasp. Undaunted or unaware of the danger, Koja increased his speed and excitement at the same time. By the time he reached the bottom of the ridge, his breath came in ragged gasps. Eyesight returning, the priest hobbled and bounded back to the khahan's party.

'Well, what is it?' Yamun shouted. The lama's obvious excitement was contagious, infecting the khahan with a feeling of hope. 'What've you learned?'

Koja finally caught his breath. How could he describe what he saw? A power, a spirit greater than anything he had ever imagined, lay beneath-no, was part of-the Dragonwall.

'Great khahan,' Koja began, his chest heaving, 'the omens are not favorable. A powerful spirit protects the wall. I am certain it will not let you break through.'

Yamun was taken back by the priest's words. Not having a reply, he turned to Sechen, who came running up behind. 'What did you see?'

'Lord Yamun,' the wrestler said as he stumbled forward, 'I saw the Shou army. They know we are coming and have lined up to meet us.'

'How many?' Yamun probed, leaning forward in his saddle.

'Twenty, maybe twenty-five standards. I'd guess one thousand men to a banner, like our minghans.'

Yamun settled back into his saddle. 'I've got sixty standards. We'll leave-'

'But Yamun! You cannot break through!' Koja stepped up to the khahan's horse. Soaked in sweat, the priest was frantic, trying to get Yamun to understand. 'You will-'

'Quiet!' Yamun roared. 'We won't have to.' He pointed to a spur of the ridge that Koja had just crossed. 'Chanar, take your men to that ridge and hold them there. Goyuk, take one tumen and advance; set the rest of your men to protect the northern flank. I'll hold the center.' The two khans nodded in understanding.

'Goyuk, you must draw them out. Charge them once, then break and run. Chanar, your men must be ready to close the rear behind them … separate them from their wall. I'll be the anvil and you two will be the hammers. Together we will break them.' Neither khan had any questions. Their aides would settle on signals to be given with banner and drum, signals that would allow them to attack in unison.

Goyuk and Chanar left to deploy their men. It would be several hours before the troops were in position. That was good, Yamun thought, since it would keep the Shou soldiers standing motionless in the sun for most of the day. Heat and thirst would weaken them. His own men would hardly notice such conditions.

Yamun turned to Koja, who stood nearby, dispirited and dejected. 'Priest, I want you to learn more about what you saw.' With that the khahan turned away to find some shade. For him, there was nothing more to do now but take a nap.

Leaving the khahan, Chanar galloped down the valley to rejoin his command. Purposefully, he took a long route, one that carried him past Bayalun's camp. Arriving there, he was greeted by a motley collection of wizards- tall and lean, fat and sweaty, some clothed in finery, others scabrous and filthy. The khahan's guards had yet to arrive. Contemptuously, Chanar made his way past Bayalun's lackeys to seek out the khadun herself.

He found her sitting in the warm sun, disdaining the cooling shade. She looked asleep, but without opening her eyes, she dismissed her servants. 'Welcome, Chanar. Why do you visit me?'

The general swung down from his saddle and squatted beside the khadun. Quickly, he explained Yamun's plans.

'He's giving us the chance!' Chanar urged, knotting his hands into fists. 'Tell the Shou we've changed the plan. They must ride forward and then we will all attack Yamun. We can pin him between us and destroy him today!'

'No. We will do nothing of the kind,' Mother Bayalun answered coolly. She pulled the red and blue shawl off her head, letting her graying hair fall naturally to her shoulders. 'Think, Chanar, think! If you were the Shou general would you trust us?' She rose from her seat and walked to the door of her yurt. 'Don't forget, Yamun will have his guards all around me. We will keep to the plan. For now, let us prove to Yamun we are loyal.'

Chanar knew perfectly well that the khahan would never fully trust Bayalun. She was right, however; Yamun could not maintain his vigilance forever. Still, it rankled him to see such an opportunity slip by.

Bayalun sensed his dissatisfaction. 'These Shou warriors are no match for the Tuigan,' she suggested, appealing to Chanar's pride. 'We would be foolish to trust them to defeat the khahan. Today, Chanar, do what the khahan expects. Tomorrow we will crush him, and you will be khahan.'

Four hours passed while the khahan's forces moved into position. During that time Yamun slept under a thorny tamarisk tree. Koja sat in the shade of a rock, meditating and seeking guidance from his god. He hoped that Furo would grant him more knowledge of the spirit he had seen today. As the last of the troops moved into position on the plain below, a servant roused the khahan from his nap. Yamun insisted Koja accompany him, so the priest stopped his exercises and followed him back to the top of the ridge. There they found a comfortable position where they could watch Goyuk's attack. Sechen stood nearby, ready with their horses.

Below, on the plain, was the one tumen Goyuk had chosen to make the initial charge. The old khan had divided the ten thousand men into three large blocks. Each block was ten riders deep and about three hundred men wide. The right wing was deployed along the base of the ridge where Koja and Yamun sat. The rest of Goyuk's force stretched off to the left. The priest spotted the old khan's banner, a pole with streamers of blue silk topped by a silver crescent, in the gap between the nearest wing and the center. Across the plain stood the soldiers of Shou Lung, waiting in the broiling afternoon sun.

A rapid roll of drums signaled that all was ready on the plain. Lance tips wavered, creating a sparkling sea of lights. Yamun waved his hand, and his standard-bearer dipped the yak-tail banner to the ground. The signal had been given. The war began.

Koja watched, fearful and expectant, waiting for Goyuk to act. The crescent moon banner trembled, then dipped. In a wave spreading out from that one point, the banners of the minghans dropped, transmitting the signal down the length of the front. The ranks of horsemen trembled, but did not move.

A sound rose up from the plain, at first like the breeze through aspens. The sound grew stronger until it echoed like the roar of a thunderstorm. Ten thousand voices were raised in a harsh, piercing war cry. It reverberated until it seemed that the hills themselves were screaming for the blood of Shou Lung.

Goyuk's banner was suddenly raised. The effect was electrifying. The standards of the minghans sprang back up. The blocks of men seemed to expand, stretch, and then the entire tumen was in motion. The hoarse, echoing shouts of the war cry were replaced by a new sound: the deep rumble of forty thousand hooves hammering the ground. Even at the top of the ridge the ground seemed to tremble.

'Hai!' Yamun cried, leaping to his feet. He chafed with the desire to be at the front, leading the advance. Unable to be there, he paced impatiently back and forth, issuing orders.

Goyuk's men crossed the plain in a well-ordered charge. It was not a wild, pell-mell rush. Instead, the minghans advanced at a trot, keeping in a line abreast. Gradually, as they closed the distance to the enemy line, the horses picked up speed, first to a canter, then a full gallop. Across the plain, the spears of the Shou rippled in anticipation.

Yamun waited for the moment when the lead horsemen would suddenly slow their charge just short of the enemy, loose a flight of arrows from their bows, and gallop away, stinging the enemy into pursuit.

That moment never arrived.

From the ridge, Yamun could see the front of the rushing wave of horsemen reach the point where they were in range to fire, just inside the long shadow of the Dragonwall. Down the length of the Tuigan line, the ground rippled, then surged upward, exploding in a fountain of dust and rock. There was a shrieking grind of stone grating on stone and a rolling thunder as the earth's crust tore asunder. Another voice, higher than the roar of upthrusting earth, pierced through the din: the screaming wail of men and horses, their voices fused into a single cry.

Yamun shouted in astonishment and outrage. The front-most ranks of the Goyuk's tumen had suddenly disappeared, crushed by dirt and stone. The next ranks, unable to swerve their charging mounts, were swallowed by the curtain of dust that roiled outward. Here and there, the swirling tornado parted to reveal geysers of earth erupting amidst the panicked riders. Boulders tumbled and bounced, crashing through the remaining ranks of horsemen, leaving bloody and crushed bodies in their wake.