Casca 22: The Mongol (17 page)

The balance of the Kereit force was clearing the walls as fires started up over the city. Casca took his detachment and moved to the bazaar to secure it. There was no plundering. All had been told they would receive their share, and any who took something and did not report it would lose both of his hands, if not his head.

People were beginning to stream into the streets, seeking refuge from the flames, not yet knowing their city was under attack.

When flames came too close to the bazaar, Casca had the Kereits fight them. The bazaar had to be kept intact. He reminded them that anything that burned up was in truth theirs. The Mongols worked like madmen, tearing down structures too near the bazaar and smothering out small fires to keep them from spreading. Several citizens wondered who these wild men were who fought so hard to save their city from the flames consuming it.

Temujin was making progress to the palace of the Tatar khan a white, baked-brick, three-story structure, the tallest in the city. To his men he had given much the same orders. Once they knew the city was in their hands, they had to save it. It was his, and he would not lightly destroy his own property.

Leaving behind Subetei and the two thousand Kereits he had taken from Casca's force to secure the walls and the gates, he and his Merkits and Borjigin rode straight for the palace through narrow streets beginning to fill with smoke and people. Those in his way were trampled under the hooves of their horses.

He was not interested in the civilian population at this point. Only the palace and the khan. It struck him that he did not even know the man's name. No matter... he would find him. Kill the head and the body dies quicker.

Around the palace wall was an area cleared for a distance of a block – a plaza. Temujin's warriors did not even stop their rush. They went straight on over the walls. Grappling hooks were thrown as the warriors swung out of their saddles to scramble up them, attacking the defenders on the wall.

The palace guard was more alert as they took a toll of the attackers, but not alert enough. The gates opened and Temujin was inside. He forbade the use of torches in the place. His men did the next best and killed everything that had balls or was too old to enjoy in bed. The guard of the khan died to the man –  seven hundred before the butchery stopped.

The khan was found locked behind the door to his chambers, standing with a saber in his hand, his personal guard of twenty in front of him, bared swords and shields at the ready. They were swarmed over and pulled down as the Mongols piled into the room. The guards died.

The Mongols came on them so quick that when they made a kill, there wasn't time enough to withdraw their swords and spears before five more of the savages were on them, clinging, stabbing, and ripping at them, sometimes with bare hands, in their lust to kill.

Temujin had to repeat himself three times for them not to kill the khan. He personally had to strike down two of his own men who in the battle rage heard nothing and were attacking the khan, who was ably defending himself.

The Tatar master of Khalkak moved to face his attackers. Temujin liked what he saw. The man was near his own age. Smooth face, dark eyes. His hair was cut short to the nape of the neck. Behind him were his six women, who cowered behind curtains. Temujin also admired his taste in womanly flesh.

Spotting Temujin as the leader, the Tatar faced him squarely, speaking calmly and with no trace of tremor to his voice.

"Ho, Mongol. It is good that you have come at this time. A month later and it would have been different. Before I die, I would have you know that I, Sarjan Khan, will give you good sport. Now, how is it you wish to finish the game? One at a time or as the dogs you are, sent like a pack to bring down one man?"

Temujin's men grumbled and started to move forward to cut down the insolent swine who would dare speak to their master thus. Temujin stepped them with a wave. The man had courage and had said something that tickled Temujin's interest. Why, if he had come a month later, would things have been different? Waving his men back, Temujin walked slowly forward to just outside the range of the man's sword.

He, too, spoke calmly, with no anger or rancor to his voice or words. "Lay down your weapon, Sarjan Khan."

For a long moment they looked steadily at each other. As if the man had been a longtime friend who had only been in his cups a bit too much, Temujin walked over to him and removed the sword from his hand.

"Fear not. Your women are safe, and I believe that we will have much to speak of. For now, rest. There is still fighting in the city and I have much to do."

Sarjan Khan didn't know why he had let the Mongol take his weapon from him. He was truly ready to die. It seemed as if it were the thing to do. Still, he tried to find some anger within himself. "Yes, I know the history of your people. We are not so different. You will kill and burn and loot till there is nothing left."

Temujin shook his head from side to side, as if he had to explain things to a hotheaded child.
"No, Sarjan Khan, that is not what I shall do. I go now to stop the killing and put out the fires. Listen to me in this matter. I have things of much greater import to do than raze this one small city. I would speak of these things to you later."

Sarjan Khan did not trust his words completely. This was not the Mongol manner. "If what you say is true and you are going to spare the city, then I should come with you to order my men to stop fighting until we have had our `talk.' After that..." He shrugged his shoulders elegantly.

Temujin took him at his word. All that night they rode together. And Sarjan Khan ordered bands of warriors who were still resisting to cease fighting until, as Temujin had said, he and the Mongol had had their "talk."

True to Temujin's word, he saw the Mongols fighting to put out the flames. In the bazaar the tribesmen of the Kereit, under the command of a large-framed man with pale hair and a scarred face, were winning their battle to save the bazaar. The Mongol chieftain saluted him as an old friend.

Patrols of Mongols rode through the streets, ordering all to remain inside on pain of death. No one was to leave their buildings. Those who had earlier come into the streets were whipped back into whatever door was nearest. No one entered a building or took hostages from them. He saw something very strange also. Under the Mongol command were Merkits, Borjigin, and Kereits.

Somehow this Mongol with the grayish eyes had managed to band them together, and it was not just for plunder. As Temujin appeared, all of them, regardless of their tribe, saluted him wildly.

Only once did he see a Merkit gone mad with the killing fire. He dragged a woman from her house, tearing at her clothes. A twitch of the finger from Temujin and a dozen arrows from other Merkits ended his madness.

To Sarjan Khan he said, "There is nothing done that is not by my command. Nothing."

The city was secured. Contrary to their nature, the Mongols explicitly obeyed every command given them by Temujin and his Noyans. The prisoners were confined to the barracks under guard. The people were told to stay off the streets, except for two hours in the morning when they could go for food and water.

Temujin held his meetings in the court of Sarjan Khan. On this, the second day after the fall of Khalkak, Temujin had time to speak to Sarjan Khan alone. His guards were stationed outside, at the doors to the court. "We have something to speak of, Sarjan Khan. First on my mind is, what did you mean when you said that if I had come a month later, it would have been very different?"

Sarjan Khan sat down at the foot of the chair of power that was to have been his, resting his haunches on soft cushions of felt. "By that I meant that in another month those slackers your men met on the walls would have been much different. I arrived in Khalkak only two days before you. My father, who was master here, died three months earlier. It has taken me that long to travel here from the court of the Sultan Muhammad of Khorasan at Merv. It was to there that my father sent me to be educated. He much admired the sultan and felt there was much to be learned in the West. It was there that I received word of his death and returned.

"For the last years my father – may his rest be merciful – had let discipline grow slack. With the coming of his years he found more interest in things of the mind and spirit. Consequently my warriors were in the sorry state in which you encountered them.

"I think it would have taken a month to put them back into proper order. For if one is to be a warrior, he has to pay attention to his trade and art. Discipline is the first rule of success."

He eyed Temujin, looking up at the dark face of the man who had taken his heritage from him. It was exceedingly strange that he felt no rancor toward him. To sit at his feet did not seem to be a thing of shame, but somehow quite natural. "I suppose now that I will never know if I would have been a good leader or not."

Sipping good, hot green cha from Chin found in the kitchens of the palace, Temujin smacked his lips in satisfaction over its taste. It was seldom that he found time to enjoy the pleasure of his senses in anything other than war.
"Do not think that, good Sarjan. If it is a warrior you wish to be, my coming may be a blessing for us both. This city of Khalkak is only the first. Already I have done the things to bind the most powerful of the tribes and nations of the steppes to me. There is only one thing left unfinished, then I shall have them all.

"If it is war you wish, come with me. Why do you think I spared your Tatars? From the first moment we laid eyes on one another I knew that we would come to this. It is our kismet that we met. When I leave here, Chagar will take command of the city. You will have no need of it. I will return to you your Tatars and see if you can make them into proper warriors, for you and they will ride with me. From this day on, you are the Noyan of all the tumens of the Tatars."

Sarjan Khan was not surprised at Temujin's words. He, too, had felt this thing the Mongol had mentioned. Now he would find out if he was a great leader and warrior. For, to speak truly, the idea of spending his life in this backwater mud-hut city of ignorant nomads and itinerant traders was not to his liking after the courts of Mery and Baghdad and all the great cities and learned men of Persia and Iraq. It was almost a sentence of death for him to return to these barren wastes of his childhood. "As you wish, Lord Temujin. But you know that I am a Muslim, and a follower of the Koran and the laws of Allah, blessed be His name."

Temujin smiled at him taking another sip of cha. "That is one thing I do not care about, Sarjan. Your gods belong to you, but do not put them above your duty to me.
I am sure, Sarjan Khan, in all books of all religions there are some passages permitting you dispensation in special cases. Be assured that I am a special case. I have Christians, Buddhists, animists, Moslems, and others I cannot recall in my service. To me, all are equal. Argue your philosophy, debate who is right endlessly, but do not persecute another for his race or religion. I am the only one who may do that."

Setting aside his cup, he clapped his hands for the guards to re
-enter his presence. The doors opened wide and he ordered, "Bring Casca-Bahadur to me."

The sentries bowed and hastened to obey.

"I would have you meet my chief councillor. He has been with me many years. A most strange man, as I am sure you will agree once you have had the opportunity to know him better. He is one I think you would have an interesting time with in a debate about religion. I do believe that he has views that may be completely original.

"Now, if you have offered your services to me, I accept. Therefore your first duty when Casca comes will be to cooperate with him in all things. One of your most important duties will be to assist him in the levying of soldiers from the male population."

Sarjan Khan started to say something but stopped. Temujin did not have to say more. Sarjan Khan knew from this moment on that everything he had was the property of Temujin. It was his to do with as he chose. Wisely he bowed his head and said only, "As you wish, my lord."

Temujin was pleased at how quickly the Tatar learned. And there were things he wished to learn from him also: how things were done in the courts of the sultan; the manner of their warriors; the weather and terrain; the feelings in the court; who was plotting against whom.
He wanted to know it all. As Casca said, information was never wasted. And in time, who knows what value Sarjan Khan might have for him.

Casca came into the court, bowed to Temujin, and sat without being invited on one of the brightly cushioned divans clustered around the room.
For this part of the world, the room wasn't bad. There were tiles arranged in geometric patterns in the Arab style, hanging plants, and some carpets from Bukhara and Samarkand. Brass decorations and ornaments of war hung from the walls. Not bad at all. Obviously the Tatar chief had some feelings for the better things in life, much unlike his half-wild kinsmen.

"Ah, Old Young One, welcome. I would have you meet a new member of our family. You saw him briefly the first night of our visit here. He is Sarjan Khan. I would have you know him better."

Casca gave a half bow from his seated position. He knew who the Tatar was already, and most of his history, at least what was known around the palace. "Did I understand, Sarjan Khan, that you have decided to join us?"

Sarjan Khan nodded. "Yes, there are some things in life which are inevitable and unbeatable. I feel that this is one of those things. I bow to my destiny."

Casca watched him carefully. He had been so long among the Mongols that he wasn't quite certain of what to do with one like Sarjan Khan, who obviously was well educated and intelligent. "Then welcome. But be prepared for a long, hard road. Temujin is not known for sitting in one place very long. I would bet that he has already made preparations to leave Khalkak. That is, as soon as he takes from it that which he wishes."

Turning to Temujin, he continued. "I have done as you ordered. The markets are open for business. The traders have been assured that all will be as before, and perhaps even better.
From the warehouses of the khan I have separated out the things you wished. We are well supplied with cloth, weapons, and salt.

"For the warriors I have arranged a distribution of the tribute we extracted from the city for losing the battle. It does not come to as great a treasure as those paid by Chin, but it will suffice. It comes to sixty thousand pieces of silver and twenty thousand ounces of gold. That is all I was able to discover in the treasury.

"As you wished, the silver has already been divided among the men, with special rewards to those who showed the most valor. As for animals, we have acquired some hundreds of camels, mules, donkeys, and a goodly stock of fine-blooded horses. I presume they were those of the Tatar guard."

Temujin nodded at him, smiling. "Well done, Old Young One." Turning to Sarjan Khan, he asked, "Is there anything he missed?"

Sarjan Khan nodded. "Not much, but there is in my rooms a hiding place, where, as was the custom of my father, I keep jewels and gold for emergencies."

Temujin was well pleased that Sarjan Khan had told him this, for he already knew it. Hot tongs applied to the sensitive inner parts of the thigh and sexual organs elicit answers from the most unresponsive. One thing about palaces:
nothing is truly secret. There is always one who knows. The problem is in finding him. "Very good, Sarjan Khan, thank you. They shall be put to good use.  I assure you. Now, to business! Old Young One, make ready to ride. Leave here three thousand of my men, one thousand from each tribe. I will make Chagar governor of this city in my name.

"When we leave, Sarjan Khan will be in command of the tumen of the Tatars. They, too, will join us after we make them the same offer we do to all. I think they will see the wisdom of accepting our offer. In addition, Sarjan Khan will assist you in acquiring another two thousand young men between the ages of fifteen and thirty for the civilian population.

"Next, search me out men of learning in the sciences – engineers, mathematicians, and such. It is time for our own people to start learning how to do more than eat and ride and kill. We must become a nation fit to rule, and I cannot do that by myself, even with your help. I must have men of intelligence and skill to call upon when I need them. We will not always have the advantage we did here. We must prepare for those days."

As he wished, so it was done. In three days they were ready for the march to the winter pastures and the rest of Temujin's people. Casca referred to them as Temujin's people or as Mongols, for they were fast becoming a united force, not separate, petty clans.
It had taken a long time in human terms for Temujin to reach this point. But now he was truly and strongly on the path he had sought for so long.

Sarjan Khan did as he was bid and assisted Casca in all matters. He even told him how to squeeze another ten thousand in silver out of the rich of the city. It pleased him to watch the misers give up their wealth.
As always, they were asked only once. Those who hesitated regretted it. The Mongols knew how to elicit answers. And refusal also meant that the men's families became the property of the Mongols. Many a daughter or young wife would find her way to the yurt of a savage tribesman and bear him sons, whom Temujin would send into battle.

The number of slaves had to be kept to a minimum, as there would be little to feed them once they reached the pasture. Each man was permitted only one slave. These came mostly from those already in the city who had been the property of others. Only those who opposed them were taken as slaves.
Temujin divided most of his portion among the soldiers, keeping only the jewels and five thousand ounces of gold, as Sarjan Khan had said, for emergencies.

On the dawn of the third day they rode out. As he had forecasted, the Tatars had seen the wisdom of becoming part of his force. And with Sarjan Khan to lead them, there was little grumbling.
In truth, many of them were happy to be on the move again. The life of a city dweller was not for a nomad. The open lands were in their blood, and their fathers' fathers had been sired in the same wild lands that had bred the Mongol. They were, if not brothers, then at least first cousins.

Casca, Temujin, and Sarjan Khan stood mounted outside the gates of Khalkak as the array passed by. Temujin had never looked better. The years had been kind to him. He was healthy and fit for his thirty-five – or was it thirty-six – years. Casca didn't know for certain.

Even though he had acquired wealth, he kept his personal dress simple, though it was always the best to be had. Now, instead of robes of half-cured goat hide, he had the soft, rich furs of the northern weasel draped around his shoulders to keep out the winds. For a helmet he wore a simple steel-spiked, bowl-shaped helm with a neck guard of chain mail. His weapons were much the same – simple but of the best quality.

As the army passed by, Casca could tell that Temujin was becoming one of the great ones. At least that is what history would call him, as it had Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great.
The families of the thousands who would die to gain him that title might have a different name for him. Casca knew that he had been especially merciful to Khalkak. That would not always be the case. There was still a wildness in him that no amount of talking to could take out of him. He was a Mongol, and a Mongol he would die, though surely he was one of the most exceptional men that the world, for good or evil, would ever see.