Horselords

'I agree. Mother Bayalun,' the khahan called out without looking up from the map, 'your wizards must clear a path through the broken earth.'

'Yes, my husband,' the khadun answered quietly as she looked over their shoulders. 'But the men will fear being crushed if the earth moves again.'

'Just do what you are ordered. I will worry about the men. How long will it take?' Yamun demanded impatiently.

Bayalun looked to the ceiling, calculating the spells needed to do the task. 'By morning, I think.'

'Go then and see that it is done,' Yamun ordered. 'Sechen, lead a guard to protect the khadun. Send me reports on her progress.'

'By your word, it shall be done,' the soldier and the khadun both said at once. As the pair left, Bayalun eyed the big wrestler venomously. She knew that the man was being sent to spy on her.

Yamun turned his attention back to the map. 'If the paths were clear, Chanar, where would you make the attack?'

Chanar studied the map, stalling to conceal his discomfort. The khahan did not suspect that tomorrow the general planned to overthrow him. The khahan was, in fact, giving the traitor an opportunity to personally plan his downfall. His intentions set, Chanar studied the map in earnest.

'I would strike here and here,' the general answered, his hand sweeping over the map. He tackled the problem with enthusiasm. Things were almost like earlier times, in the days when he and Yamun made plans to conquer the Dalats and Quirish. Only now, the stakes were much higher and the game subtler.

Quickly Chanar sketched out his ideas to Yamun. The khahan listened, then added these to his own plans, never realizing that Chanar was planning treachery. Together they argued and discussed, working well into the night. It was a slow process, but gradually the two warriors created a plan of battle for the morning.

'I'll have arbans sent into the mountains to cut trees for rams and ladders immediately,' Chanar promised. 'The men will be ready to attack at dawn.'

'Excellent, my anda,' Yamun said. 'Tomorrow we will avenge Goyuk. Go and rest. There will be much to do when the sun rises.' With a wave he dismissed the general.

As the warrior left the tent, Yamun settled back with satisfaction. Chanar at times might be ambitious, but Yamun thought that he could depend on the general. The plan they had worked out was dangerous, but sound.

Outside the tent, Chanar sought out Bayalun at her yurt. Telling the guards Yamun had posted there that he carried orders from the khahan, the general was admitted with only the briefest announcement. Chanar was not surprised to find Bayalun still awake, meditating over her brazier. Once safely out of earshot of the guard, Chanar told her what had happened. 'Why is he planning this? Does he expect your wizards to keep the ground from tearing open again?' Chanar asked in bewilderment.

'I do not know,' Bayalun confessed. 'I have sat here and pondered on it. The Shou have built some secret into their wall. Of that I am certain. But why Yamun is confident he can overcome their magic is another mystery.' She shrugged off these concerns. 'Whatever he does, it will not matter. If the Shou kill him with their magic or we catch him in the trap, our plans will succeed.'

'Then he will fall,' Chanar observed.

'Of course-just as long as he makes the attack.' Bayalun glanced toward the vain general with a knowing smile. 'Tomorrow, my stepson will be dead. Then we can see about making you the khahan of the Tuigan-as you should be.'

Chanar returned the smile, though his heart was pained. Tonight, for a short time, he and Yamun were anda once more. Tomorrow that bond would be severed forever.

While Chanar and Bayalun plotted in her yurt, Koja and a small group of guardsmen picked their way between the Tuigan camp and the Dragonwall. Quietly, the company moved through the ruins of the battlefield toward the line of tumbled dirt and stone that marked the limit of that day's charge. Several times the men came across bands of jackals or viler creatures-gigantic centipedes and carrion worms-feasting on the bodies of the dead. The sight sickened the priest, but there was little he could do for the dead now. He said a few quick prayers for the fallen warriors.

The corpses reminded Koja that he should attempt to speak to the dead guard discovered that morning, providing he ever got the chance. There was something about the way the bodies were found that nagged at his brain. It's probably nothing, the lama assured himself so he could keep his mind on the business at hand. However, this was a war, and you can't be too careful.

The band finally reached the churned, rocky ground that marked the beginning of the destruction. 'Here, priest?' asked the guide, a grizzled Kashik with long, gray braids.

Koja shook his head and whispered with exaggerated caution. 'On the other side, as close to the Dragonwall as possible.'

The Kashik looked ahead apprehensively, then began carefully picking a path through the rubble. Strict orders were given down the line not to talk or make any unnecessary noise.

Slowly, the men walked over the top of the mound and started down the loose slope on the other side. Each time a stone skittered down the slope, the men froze, waiting for a challenge. It was a painful hour before they reached the bottom.

The dark shadow of the Dragonwall stood out distinctly ahead of them. Koja and the men were close enough to make out individual soldiers at the top of the wall, outlined against the fires they had built to keep them warm. 'Now?' hissed the Kashik at Koja. The lama only shook his head.

Stealthily the group moved forward from shadow to shadow, toward a nearly deserted section of the wall. At last, they were at the base of the fortification. Now, no one spoke. The guards watched warily as Koja sat, preparing his spell.

Alone, the priest carefully unwrapped the offering he brought-the khahan's sword and jewel-encrusted scabbard. He hoped this would be sufficient to contact the spirit. Very softly, he began to murmur sutras similar to those he had used earlier in the day. The lama spoke with exaggerated clarity and care.

At the closing words of the prayer, the priest fell into a trance. Quickly, something writhed out of the wall near Koja. At first it only seemed to be a small tendril of smoke, then it grew, expanding and swelling. Finally it coalesced into the transparent outline of a huge dragon. The long serpentine coils of its body lazily circled the priest. The flowing, fanged face stopped directly in front of him.

The dragon's body seemed to glimmer from reflected light, even though there was no light to reflect: The creature's scales shone with iridescent colors. The spirit was massive and yet moved with an ethereal grace. It looked solid, yet floated lightly. It was a spirit, unreal, yet appeared real before Koja's eyes.

Why have you summoned me? the spirit bellowed inside the priest's mind. Its voice was the voice of Koja's old master, and it triggered the priest's memories of lectures given in the great hall of the temple. The words made the stubble on the back of the lama's shaven head prickle.

'I call you in the name of the Illustrious Emperor of the Tuigan, Yamun Khahan,' answered Koja as bravely as he could. His voice was barely a whisper, though this did not matter to the spirit.

Then he has come, came the voice, suddenly keen with interest. A claw, transparent to everyone but Koja, carved furrows in the earth in front of the priest.

'Are you the spirit that lives beneath the Dragonwall?'

I am the spirit of the Dragonwall! roared the dragon, now using the voice of the khahan in Koja's mind.

'Do you serve Shou Lung?' Koja asked, trembling before the might of the spirit.

I do not serve the Shou oxen! crashed the khahan's voice. The dragon twitched and thrashed, as if lashing out at some invisible foe. There was no mistaking the bitterness and hatred in its voice. Koja wished he could flee.

'Are you bound to serve them?' the priest timorously asked.

They are my captors! The priest cringed before the fury-laden voice that assaulted his mind. I must do as they bid.

'Did you speak to me-ask me to free you?'

I called to you in hope that you would bring your lord. Together you must free me. This time the dragon adopted the soft voice of Koja's mother.

'Why me?' Koja asked softly. 'Why not another in the Tuigan camp?'