what you've learned,' the khahan said as soon as Koja stepped through the door.
'Mighty Furo saw fit to hear my prayers,' Koja said as he took his seat. Yamun got off his throne and sat on the floor closer to his anda.
'And?'
'It was a spirit that attacked today, a spirit that is trapped in the Dragonwall,' Koja eagerly explained. 'The same spirit spoke to me in dreams, although Furo did not say why it chose to.'
'But can it be destroyed?' Yamun demanded, holding up a fist.
Koja shook his head. 'No, not destroyed. Furo said it craves release. There is some way to free it.'
'How, anda, how?' Yamun stared at Koja, awaiting his answer.
The lama took a deep breath. 'For that, I must consult the spirit of the Dragonwall.'
'Then do it,' Yamun said as he headed for the door.
'I cannot,' said Koja, bringing the khahan to a stop. 'I cannot until I rest. These spells are very tiring. I will be ready tonight, before the dawn. And I will need an offering, one suitable to something as powerful as this spirit must be. Is this possible, Yamun?'
'It will be arranged,' Yamun assured the lama as he slowly walked back to his throne. 'What happens after you talk to this spirit?'
'I do not know,' Koja admitted. 'I have never done this type of thing before.'
A Kashik slowly appeared at the door, making sure that the khahan knew of his presence. Behind him came one of Yamun's couriers. 'A message from Sechen the Wrestler, Great Lord,' explained the Kashik, stepping aside to let the messenger speak.
'Speak your message,' Yamun ordered.
'Sechen sends me to report that Goyuk Khan is dead.' The messenger bowed his head and stood quietly.
Yamun walked to the door and looked out over the plain, the pain clear in his face. Slowly and deliberately he spoke, 'Shou Lung will pay.' His voice implied no threat, no promise, only a certainty that he would break the Dragonwall and gain his vengeance on the emperor who cowered behind it.
16
That night was a somber one in the Tuigan camp. The yurtchis, following Yamun's instructions, had moved the tents forward so that by late evening the yurts were in position. Campfires covered the ridge and the near side of the plain before the Dragonwall. Yamun ordered the men to build extra fires to make the army seem even larger. Still, no fire was closer than what Koja, Bayalun, and her wizards determined was safe. The distant tumble of rocks served as a reminder of what could happen to any who ventured too close to the Shou fortification.
The fires of the Tuigan were matched by sparks of flame along the length of the Dragonwall. The Shou troops had withdrawn behind the wall and now lined its ramparts. In the darkness between the two forces, jackals growled and fought over the carrion.
In the royal yurt, Yamun sat, searching for a way to break the stalemate. The khahan had to be prepared, in case Koja failed. Sechen, his duties among the troops finished, stood at his usual place by the door. Bayalun and Chanar sat at the khahan's feet. Though her mood was dark, Bayalun sat calmly. Chanar was openly agitated, distressed by the actions of the Shou. It was not according to the plan. Yamun assumed the general's nervousness was caused by frustration at the day's failure.
From the corner, the scribe read aloud the reports from the scouts. The news was not encouraging. There was no hope of flanking the wall, nor had the riders been able to find any weak spots along its length. Some reported troop movements atop the wall, but the numbers given were not large enough to alarm the khahan. Other scouts screened the army's flanks, watching for enemy repositioning. So far these riders had seen nothing.
Other couriers carried dispatches from Prince Tomke. The khahan's third son was marching with his army to join Yamun. Unlike his brothers, Jad and Hubadai, however, Tomke was cautious and advanced with care. The message claimed it would be several days before his men would arrive. This last piece of news prompted Yamun to send his son an angry rebuke about his troops' slowness.
Finally, the scribe reached a sheet that arrived only a few hours before, a scroll delivered from the Shou. Carefully and slowly, the ancient scholar read the crabbed characters, holding the sheet close to his eyes to see it clearly in the dim light.
Khahan, the note began. The emperor of the Jade Throne is pleased to call you an equal to his sons.
You have seen the futility of attacking the unbreakable Dragonwall. It is a truth that if you continue, your greatness will only be dimmed by failure. Let there be no quarrel between the Tuigan and the emperor of all Shou Lung. Depart and go in peace.
As the scribe finished reading the note aloud, Yamun looked at both Chanar and Bayalun. 'They want us to surrender.'
'So it would seem, Khahan,' Bayalun said. Chanar only grunted in agreement.
Yamun picked at his teeth. 'Mother Bayalun, why did your wizards fail me today?' The accusation in the khahan's voice was clear.
Unfazed by her stepson's obvious distrust, Bayalun sat proud and stiff-backed as she gave her explanation. 'The wizards failed you no more than your own men. They were unprepared for what happened.'
'And why did it happen?' Yamun pressed.
'It is a mystery,' Bayalun admitted. She lowered her eyes to the floor, abashed at being forced to admit her ignorance.
'When will your wizards know? Tomorrow? That is when they must be ready,' Yamun insisted, nodding to the scribe to write the order.
'If my son, my husband, were to rescind his orders to have the wizards beaten, I am certain they will be able to help tomorrow.' Bayalun kept looking to the floor, seeking Yamun's favor with mock humility.
'They deserve to be beaten,' Yamun snapped.
'Perhaps,' the second empress allowed. 'But if they are beaten, they will be too weak to fight tomorrow.'
'Then give me seven of them, to make an example to the others.'
Bayalun stiffened. 'No. Their numbers are few and you will need them all tomorrow.' She realized her defiance had backed Yamun into a corner with no way to save face. 'Tomorrow, if they fail, you may do as you wish with all of them,' the khadun offered.
Yamun bristled at her disobedience, knowing he could not force her to comply with the conflict looming before his army. 'Very well,' he said, his voice tinged by his ill-temper. 'Make certain they're ready. There will be no more failures.' He pointed at her to accent his words. Her face a mask, Bayalun nodded in understanding.
Finished with the question of wizards, Yamun turned his attention to Chanar. 'My general, with Goyuk slain, I'm giving you command of the Ciejan, Ormusk, and Ulu tumens. I'll take the rest.' Chanar bowed his head in gratitude. 'Will your men be ready for battle tomorrow?' the khahan asked.
'Of course, Yamun. But how will we cross the plain?' Chanar gestured in the general direction of the wall. 'Their magic will destroy us.'
Yamun smiled enigmatically. 'Perhaps not. Now, Chanar, my valiant man, we must make a plan. Since we cannot get the Shou to chase us, how do we attack their wall?'
Stepping down from his throne, Yamun sat on the rugs across from his general. The scribe quickly unrolled a long, narrow scroll between the two men. Along one edge was a diagram of the Dragonwall, showing the gates and the towers. Opposite the wall were little circles, denoting the camps of the Tuigan.
Chanar risked a glance toward Bayalun, to see if she knew what the khahan intended. Noting the general's perplexed look, she gave a small, quick shrug to show that she knew no more than he. Chanar looked back to the map, studying it briefly. 'First, Yamun, we must find a way to reach the wall. The broken dirt blocks our horses.'
