Lords of the Bow (13 page)

Khasar let out a breath, satisfied. “So I am not a mute, then,” he said, pleased. “I did not think I could keep that up.” He settled himself back on the sacks, nudging Temuge out of the way to find a comfortable position. As the boat drifted upriver, Khasar closed his eyes and Ho Sa thought he had gone to sleep.

“Why did he draw his finger across his throat?” Khasar said without opening his eyes.

“He wanted to know if I intended to kill you and throw you over-board,” Ho Sa snapped. “The idea had occurred to me.”

Khasar chuckled. “I am beginning to like that little man,” he said drowsily. “I am glad we took a boat.”

Genghis walked through the vast camp in the shadow of mountains he had known as a boy. Snow had fallen in the night and he took a deep breath of the chilled air, enjoying the way it filled his lungs. He could hear the whinnying of mares calling to their mates, and in the distance, someone was singing a child to sleep. With the families around him, he was at peace and his mood was light. It was easy to remember the days when his father still lived and he and his brothers knew nothing of the world around them. He shook his head in the gloom as he considered the lands that had been shown to him. The sea of grass was larger than he had ever realized, and part of him hungered to see new things, even the cities of the Chin. He was young and strong and ruled a vast army of men with the skills to take what they wanted. He smiled to himself as he reached the ger he had built for his second wife, Chakahai. His father had been content with his mother, it was true, but Yesugei had been khan of a small tribe and not had beautiful women offered to him in tribute.

Genghis ducked his head as he entered. Chakahai was waiting for him and her eyes were wide and dark in the glow from a single lamp. Genghis said nothing as she rose to greet him. He did not know how she had procured two young girls from her own people to serve her. Presumably they had been captured by his warriors and she had bought or bargained for them. As they slipped out of the ger, Genghis could smell the perfume they wore and he shuddered slightly as one of them brushed silk past his bare arms. He heard their whispering voices dwindle into the distance, and he was alone.

Chakahai stood proudly before him, her head raised. The first weeks with the tribes had been hard for her, but he had sensed a fine spirit in her flashing eyes long before she had learned the first words of his people. She walked as he would have expected a king’s daughter to walk, and the sight of her always aroused him. It was a strange thing, but her perfect posture was the greatest part of her beauty.

She smiled as his gaze traveled over her, knowing she had his full attention. Choosing her moment, she knelt before him, bowing her head and then glancing up to see if he still watched the display of humility. He laughed at that and took a wrist to raise her up once more, lifting her into the air to lay her down on the bed.

He held her head in both hands as he kissed her then, his fingers lost in her black hair. She moaned into his mouth and he felt her hands lightly touching his thighs and waist, exciting him. The night was warm and he did not mind waiting while she opened up her silk tunic and revealed whiteness down to a flat belly and the silk belt and trousers she wore like a man. She gasped as he kissed her breasts and bit softly. The rest of the clothes followed swiftly after that and the camp drowsed around them as he took a princess of the Xi Xia, her cries echoing far in the gloom.

CHAPTER 11

I
T TOOK A WEEK
for Chen Yi’s boat to reach Shizuishan on the western bank of the river. The days were gray and cold and the siltladen water darkened until it deserved its name, curling creamily under the prow. For a time, a family of dolphins had stayed with them, before Khasar struck one with an oar in his excitement and they vanished as quickly as they had come. Ho Sa had formed his own opinions of the little boat master, and he suspected the hold was stuffed with untaxed goods, perhaps even luxuries that would fetch high prices for the owner. He had no opportunity to test his suspicions, as the crew never seemed to tire of watching the passengers. It was likely that they were in the employ of a wealthy merchant and should not have risked the cargo by taking passengers. Ho Sa judged Chen Yi was an experienced man who seemed to know the river far better than the emperor’s tax collectors. More than once they had taken a tributary off the main route, looping far around before returning to it. On the last of these occasions, Ho Sa had seen the dim shadow of an official barge in midstream behind them. The tactic suited his needs and he did not comment on the loss of time, though he slept with his knife in his sleeve and then only lightly, waking at the slightest sound.

Khasar snored at astonishing volume. To Ho Sa’s irritation, the crew seemed to like him and had already taught him phrases that would have little use outside a dockyard whorehouse. He swallowed his anger as Khasar arm-wrestled three of the burlier sailors, winning a skin of fiery rice wine which he then refused to share.

Of the three of them, it was Temuge who seemed to take no pleasure at all from the peaceful journey. Though the river was rarely choppy, he had vomited over the side on the second morning, earning hoots of derision from the crew. Mosquitoes found him at night so that he had a new crop of red bites on his ankles each morning. He watched Khasar’s cheerful camaraderie with a tight expression of disapproval, but made no attempt to join in, despite his greater command of the language. Ho Sa could only wish the journey was at an end, but Shizuishan was merely a stopping point to replenish their supplies.

Long before the city came into view, the river grew crowded with small boats crossing from bank to bank and carrying with them the gossip and news of a thousand miles. Chen Yi did not seek anyone out, but as he tied up at a wooden post near the docks, boat after boat came close to exchange words with him. Ho Sa realized the little man was well known on the river. More than a few questions were called about the passengers, and Ho Sa endured their stares. No doubt their descriptions would race the length of the river before they even saw Baotou. He began to consider the entire enterprise doomed, and it did not help to see Khasar standing on the prow and shouting foul insults at other captains. In different circumstances, it might have earned him a beating or even a knife in his throat, but Chen Yi roared with laughter and something about Khasar’s expression seemed not to give offense. Instead they replied with worse and Khasar traded a couple of coins for fresh fruit and fish before the sun set. Ho Sa watched in glowering silence, punching a grain bag to make a depression for his head as he tried to find sleep.

Temuge awoke as something bumped against the side of the boat. The night air was thick with insects and he was heavy with sleep. He stirred drowsily, calling out a question to Ho Sa. There was no reply and when Temuge raised his head, he saw Ho Sa and his brother were awake and staring into the blackness.

“What is happening?” Temuge whispered. He could hear creaking, and muffled sounds of movement, but the moon had yet to rise and he realized he could only have been asleep for a short time.

Light shone out without warning as one of the crew removed the shutters from a tiny oil lamp on the prow. Temuge saw the man’s arm lit in gold, then the night erupted in shouts and confusion. Khasar and Ho Sa vanished into the gloom and Temuge rose to his feet, rooted in fear. Dark bodies crashed into the boat, coming over the sides. He scrabbled for his knife, hunching down behind the sacks so they could not see him.

A cry of pain sounded somewhere near and Temuge cursed aloud, convinced they had been discovered by Imperial soldiers. He heard Chen Yi shouting orders and all around were the grunts and gasps of men struggling with each other in near-total darkness. Temuge crouched lower, waiting to be attacked. As he strained his eyes he saw the tiny golden lamp swing up into the air, leaving a trail that remained in his vision. Instead of hissing into the river, he heard it thump onto wood. The oil spilled in a bloom of light and Temuge gasped in fear.

The thrown lamp had landed on the deck of a second boat, rocking wildly as men leaped from it. Like Chen Yi and his crew, the attackers wore little more than a strip of cloth at their waists. They carried knives as long as their forearms and fought with vicious grunts and curses. Behind them, flames grew on the dry wood and Temuge could see the sweating bodies locked together, some of them showing dark gashes and pouring with blood.

As he watched in horror Temuge heard a sound he knew above all others, the slap of a double-curved bow. He jerked round to see Khasar standing steady on the prow, shooting arrow after arrow. Every shaft found its mark, bar one that went into the water when Khasar was forced to duck a thrown knife. Temuge shuddered as a dead man fell facedown near him, the impact shoving arrow feathers further into his chest so that the point stuck out of his back.

Even then, they might have been overwhelmed if the flames had not begun to spread on the attackers’ boat. Temuge saw some of them jump the gap to their craft, grabbing at leather buckets. They too fell with Khasar’s arrows in them before they could drench the fire.

Chen Yi sawed through two thick ropes that bound the craft together and braced himself on a wooden rail to shove the other boat away. It drifted without control onto the dark river and Temuge could see struggling shadows of men fighting flames. It was too late for the boat and in the distance he heard splashes as they sought safety in the water.

The fire made its own sound, a coughing, spitting roar that dwindled as the current carried the burning boat downriver. A finger of bright sparks reached up into the darkness, taller than a sail. Temuge stood at last, his chest heaving. He jumped as someone came close, but it was Ho Sa, stinking of smoke and blood.

“Are you hurt?” Ho Sa said.

Temuge shook his head, then realized his companion was blind in the dark after staring at the flames. “I am fine,” Temuge murmured. “Who were those people?”

“River rats, perhaps, after whatever Chen Yi has in the hold. Criminals.” He fell silent as Chen Yi’s voice barked in the night and the sail turned across the wind once more. Temuge heard the hiss of water as they began to move away from Shizuishan docks into the deepest part of the channel. At another order from Chen Yi, the crew fell silent and they moved unseen across the water.

The moon seemed to take an age to rise, but it was still half full and lit the river silver, casting shadows from the surviving crew. Two of Chen Yi’s men had been killed in the fight, and Temuge watched as they were dropped over the stern without ceremony.

Chen Yi had come back with Khasar to oversee the work, and he nodded to Temuge, his expression unreadable in the half-light. Temuge watched him turn to go back to his place by the sail, but the man paused, clearly making a decision. He stood before the looming figure of Khasar, staring up at him.

“This merchant of yours is not a follower of Islam,” Chen Yi said to Ho Sa. “Moslems pray endlessly and I have never yet seen him drop to his knees.”

Ho Sa tensed as he waited for the little master to continue. Chen Yi shrugged visibly.

“But he fights well, as you said. I can be blind in the dark or the day, do you understand?”

“I do,” Ho Sa replied.

Chen Yi reached out and clapped Khasar on the shoulder. He mimicked the sound of the bow with his throat, making a hissing sound with obvious satisfaction.

“Who were they?” Ho Sa asked softly.

Chen Yi fell silent for a moment, considering his answer. “Fools, and now dead fools. It is not your concern.”

“That depends on whether we will be attacked again, before Baotou,” Ho Sa replied.

“No man may know his fate, soldier-merchant, but I do not think so. They had a chance to steal from us and they wasted it. They will not catch us twice.” Once more he copied the sound of Khasar’s bow and grinned.

“What is it in the hold that they wanted?” Temuge said suddenly. He had prepared the words carefully, but Chen Yi still looked surprised at the strange sounds. Temuge was about to try again when the little master replied.

“They were curious and now they are dead. Are you curious?”

Temuge understood and flushed unseen in the darkness. He shook his head. “No, I am not,” he replied, looking away.

“You are lucky to have friends who can fight for you,” Chen Yi said. “I did not see you move when we were attacked.” He chuckled as Temuge frowned. He could comprehend the scornful tone if not all the words, but Chen Yi turned to Khasar before he could formulate an answer, grasping his brother by the arm.

“You. Whore’s blanket,” he said. “You want a drink?” Temuge could see the whiteness of his brother’s teeth as he recognized the word for the fiery spirit. Chen Yi led him away to the prow to toast the victory. The tension remained as Ho Sa and Temuge stood together.

“We are not here to fight river thieves,” Temuge said at last. “With just a knife, what could I have done?”

“Get some sleep, if you can,” Ho Sa replied gruffly. “I do not think we will be stopping again for a few days.”

♦                  ♦                  ♦

It was a beautiful winter’s day in the mountains. Genghis had ridden with his wife and sons to a river he had known as a boy, far from the vast camp of the tribes. Jochi and Chagatai had their own ponies, while Borte walked her mount behind them with Ogedai and Tolui perched high on the saddle.

As they had left the tribes, Genghis felt his mood lighten. He knew the land under his mare’s hooves, and he had been surprised at the wave of emotion that had struck him on first returning from the desert. He had known the mountains had a hold on him, but to his astonishment, feeling the turf of his childhood under his feet had brought tears to his eyes, quickly blinked away.

When he had been young, such a trip would always have had an element of danger. Wanderers or thieves could have roamed the hills around the stream. Perhaps there were still a few who had not joined him in his journey south, but he had a nation at his heels in the encampment and the hills were empty of flocks and herdsmen.

He smiled as he dismounted, watching with approval as Jochi and Chagatai pulled bushes together and tied the reins of their mounts. The river ran fast and shallow at the foot of a steep hill nearby. Jagged shards of ice tumbled past from where they had broken free in the peaks. Genghis looked up the slopes, remembering his father and how he had once climbed for eagles on the red hill. Yesugei had brought him to the same place and Genghis had seen no joy in the man, though perhaps it had been hidden. He resolved not to let his sons see his own pleasure in being back amongst the trees and valleys he knew so well.

Borte did not smile as she lowered her two youngest sons to the ground before slipping down herself. There had been few easy words between them since he had married the daughter of the Xi Xia king, and he knew she would have heard of his nocturnal visits to the girl’s ger. She had not mentioned it, but there was a tightness around her mouth that seemed to grow deeper every day. He could not help but compare her to Chakahai as she stood and stretched in the shade of the trees that leaned over the river, casting the water into shade. Borte was tall; wiry and strong where the Xi Xia girl was soft and pliable. He sighed to himself. Either one could stir him to lust with the right touch, but only one seemed to want to. He had spent many nights with his new wife while Borte remained alone. Perhaps because of that, he had arranged this trip away from the warriors and the families, where eyes always watched and gossip flowed like spring rain.

His gaze fell on Jochi and Chagatai as they approached the stream’s edge and stared into the flowing water. No matter how things stood with their mother, he could not leave the boys to bring themselves to manhood, or allow their mother to do so. It was too easy to remember Hoelun’s influence on his brother Temuge and how it had made him weak.

He strode up behind his two eldest sons and repressed a shudder at the thought of entering the freezing water. He recalled the time he had hidden from enemies in such a place, his body growing numb and useless while the life leached out of it. Yet he had survived and grown stronger as a result.

“Bring the other two close,” he called to Borte. “I would have them listen even if they are too young to go in.” He saw Jochi and Chagatai exchange a worried glance at this confirmation of their purpose. Neither relished the idea of stepping into the icy river. Jochi stared up at Genghis with the same flat, questioning gaze he always used. Somehow it made his father’s temper prickle and he looked away as Borte brought Tolui and Ogedai to stand at the bank.

Genghis felt Borte’s eyes on him and waited until she had moved off and seated herself by the ponies. She still watched, but he did not want the boys turning to her for support. They had to feel alone to test themselves and for him to see their strength and their weaknesses. They were nervous around him, he saw, blaming himself for the time he had spent apart from them. How long had it been since he braved the disapproving glares of their mother to play with one of them? He remembered his own father with love, but how would they remember him? He pressed such thoughts from his mind, recalling Yesugei’s words in the same place, a lifetime ago.

“You will have heard of the cold face,” he said to the boys. “The warrior’s face that gives nothing away to your enemies. It comes from a strength that has nothing to do with muscles, or how well you bend a bow. It is the heart of dignity that means you will face death with nothing but contempt. Its secret is that it is more than a simple mask. Learning it brings its own calm, so that you have conquered fear and your flesh.”