Save the Last Bullet for God (29 page)

I thought to myself for a moment before
speaking again.

“Have you ever felt like there was something
missing, that there might be something else to be done? As if you
were hungry but you didn’t know what to eat?” I asked.

“Your father is about to conquer the world.
All these lands will be yours. Hundreds of years from now, people
will remember you and this time. Isn’t that enough?”

“That is my people’s fate,” I replied,
“their path. I am with them until the end, but I will go my own way
later. Maybe my only wish is to not be what everyone else is.”

“You’re tired from war and travel. I think
you should get some rest. Then you can decide what to do. What do
you think?”

“Yes, maybe you’re right. I will go as soon
as possible. I don’t know how, but my end is near, and I have a
limited time to fulfill what I need to do. I just feel it.”

“
Where will you go?” Selen asked. “I
can come with you…if you want. My father used to tell us that you
weren’t one of us and the souls of our ancestors warned him about
you. He told me many times to be careful and not to approach you,
but, I insisted, and, with you being the son of Genghis Khan, he
didn’t …”

I put my hand on her hand, and I stared into
her eyes. They seemed to be the only light in the sky. I slowly
pulled her to me and kissed her lips gently.

“You are the only one I am glad to know,” I
said. “And you are also the last one I want to upset. If you feel
the same for me, try to understand me. Just don’t stop me because,
if I could, my only choice would be to be with you. The most
painful thing is to now realize what I will miss, what could have
happened with you…”

We walked towards our horses. She stopped
and untied the red silk handkerchief in her hair. Her hands, like
her lips, trembled. She gave me the handkerchief, and I stood alone
in the dark as she rode away.

I never saw Selen again. Weeks passed by
hopelessly. When I told my mother that I was leaving, she accepted
it on one condition: that I leave quickly.

Northwest

Sobutay and I set off for the north with a
small convoy. On the way, we talked a lot about the war and our
childhood. He never asked me the reason why I was going to the
forest, the lands where he had been born. Maybe he also remembered
the stories my mother had told us, of how my great-great
grandfather lived alone in a remote place and how it was repeated
every few generations in the family.

We stayed as guests of his family for a
while, and then Sobutay went back, leaving me there. When we hugged
each other, we said goodbye. Sobutay said he would see me when we
set off for the campaign to the west.

I was caught off guard by the endless
forests with trees that covered the sky, the thick blankets of snow
that lay everywhere, the high mountains, and the strange people. It
was cold, bitter cold, with sharp wind, frozen water, and short
days that surrendered themselves to night at the first
opportunity.

Slowly, I grew used to the climate and the
place. First, I learned how to keep warm, and then I learned how to
find food, set traps, and hunt. All of the life experiences I had
gained until then seemed almost meaningless. It had been months
since I had held my sword in my hand and I found out how difficult
it was to shoot arrows in the cold.

After many failures, I learned that in order
to hunt, you had to approach the prey and attack from a distance.
When I came across wolf packs, I felt that I was close to my wolf.
Then, I reminded myself that it was dangerous to interfere with
these animals, who systematically hunted and were brutally cruel.
When spring came and conditions improved, I left the company of
others, lived on the border and put all the advantages of a
community aside. I began to live in solitude and learned my
limits.

When one stays alone, he learns how to not
be his own enemy. When he realizes his mistakes, he doesn’t judge
cruelly, nor does he deny himself understanding. Alone in the
forest, I thought things over, discussed things with myself, and
wandered around with my memories. My eyes danced in the flames as I
thought of those distant from me. I knew I was weak, unprotected,
and small in the silence of the forest, but I needed to be there to
become aware of that, and, even if I struggled, I had to survive.
To do so, I was directed to my basic instincts.

I could only protect myself. There was
nothing else, and if there was, it didn’t matter. The existence of
others far away, how rich or civilized they were, how they spoke,
and what they felt didn’t matter. Maybe all hell had broken loose,
and I was the only human being alive in the world. As long as I
didn’t see them and wasn’t in contact with them, it didn’t matter
how many thinking beings existed in this giant universe.

The West of the South

I had lost track of time.

I didn’t know until I was told by those who
arrived to find me that it had been nearly four years since I had
left. After saying good-bye to a few friends and a lot of memories,
I set off for the south and to the campaign. As I approached the
steppes and met those who I had forgotten but who still lived
within me, I was still a warrior and a human being, but now I spoke
less and lower than before. On the long road south, I talked with
my comrades but they couldn’t prepare me for what I
encountered.

When I saw the army of hundreds of thousands
of people, I became terrified. I delayed as much as I could to face
those who knew me, and when I asked to delay for a few days, the
soldiers who came with me showed understanding. Finally, the
inevitable happened, and I was again among my family and fellow
warriors. They accepted me without objection. They were in a
welcoming mood and treated everything with enthusiasm due to the
excitement of being at war after so many years of waiting.

From the East to the West

Months before, the Shah of the land of
Harzem Muhammad plundered a caravan under our protection and killed
the messengers we sent there to respond to the situation. Suddenly,
the excuse we needed to begin our new campaign had been found.

The Mongol empire, which now extended from
China, Korea, and parts of Japan in the east, now longed to extend
west. My father would then be the ruler of everything between two
seas, and no one would stand against his giant army. It was just a
matter of time. A storm was coming down the steppes. We would
attack the biggest cities, bring death upon the oldest
civilizations, suck the life from within and spit out the
remains.

Hearing of our approach, our prey were
scared but had no idea the price they were about to pay, a price
that went beyond everything they could conceive of in their minds
and souls. Those who were most unaware of the scope of the loss and
what it meant would be the first losers.

When I came into the presence of my father,
I could read it in his eyes that he had missed me. He hugged me
tight and talked to me for a long time, and I listened to him.
While he told me how much I had grown and how strong I had become.
He also rapidly and eagerly told me about the war and the lands to
be conquered.

My sister, Alangoya, interrupted when she
came running into the tent and hugged me tight. She had become a
young woman. She chided me for not being at her wedding, and she
dragged me out by the hand without giving me a chance to tell my
father good-bye; she was eager to introduce me to her new husband.
The tall young man was, to be honest, more handsome than me. When
he tried to tell me his name, my sister gave the introduction for
him. “This is Tokucar, my husband and the father of my baby,” she
said, with her hand on her belly. “He is one of father’s favorite
commanders.”

As I tried to tell my sister and her husband
how pleased I was to hear the news, my youngest brother, Tuluy,
saved me from the situation.

Seeing Tuluy was the best thing that had
happened so far. He was a young warrior and no longer a child. He
proudly told me what had happened while I was away: he had been
given two divisions and had fought in many battles.

Two nights later, the messengers called all
the commanders, and we gathered in the big tent in the presence of
my father. I finally saw Sobutay and all the childhood memories
came rushing back. We greeted each other warmly and tried to talk
without attracting much attention.

My father laid the leather map on the ground
and pointed out our location and our planned route. He asked
questions when necessary but rarely answered the questions of
others. As the night gave way to morning, we drank less koumiss and
more tea and determined the distribution of tasks.

Cebe and Sobutay would move quickly toward
the east, to the Shah Muhammad to press him and force him to fight.
They would pass over the Amuderya River with four divisions, no
invading, no spoils, no war unless necessary. Tokucar would be a
raider, heading toward the southwest, the land of Horasan. He would
pass over the Amuderya River, and attack whoever got in his way,
spreading terror, plunder, and fire, and intimidating everyone.
Cagatay, Ogheday, and the King of Uighur would lay siege to the
city of Otrar on the River Siderya and wait with their large force
until they captured it.

I wouldn’t join the siege of Utrar. Instead,
I would cross over the Syr Darya River and head toward the city of
Gurgenc along with four divisions and lay a siege there. With the
remaining forces, my father and Tuluy would cross over the Syr
Darya River from the south of Otrar and direct the forces to the
region of Transoxiana, which would become our headquarters.

The city of Bukhara would be the first
attacked. My father was not only a genius of war and command, he
was also a master of predicting and shaping the future with
necessary interventions. Other military leaders would need much
more than a single night to prepare a plan like his, but Genghis
Khan was unique.

After the long and tiring meeting, Sobutay
and I rode our horses to the meadow to talk at sunrise.

“Everyone sends you greetings from the land
of the forest,” I said. “Actually, it’s my hometown now as you
aren’t from there anymore and I stayed for so long,” I said in
jest.

“It must be because a wolf breastfed you
when you were a child,” Sobutay replied. “I don’t think you
suffered the usual difficulties of being a stranger there. It’s
even rumored that you survived a great deal of time in
solitude.”

“How have you spent your days?” I asked.

“There hasn’t been a proper war for a long
time. I was bored like everyone else. I even got married. I was
going to invite you to the wedding, but it wasn’t possible.”

“Who is the poor girl? Do I know her?”

“Selen. We got married a few months after
you left.”

I didn’t know how or why, but suddenly
something got stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow. I lost
the ability to breathe. I tried to talk as if I was okay, but
wasn’t aware of what I was saying.

“Our Selen …the best choice ever…I wish you
happiness. Wish I had been there …congratulations.”

He knew as much as well as I that there were
things better left unsaid.

“I am going back to my army today, and from
there I will head east,” he said.

“I understand,” I responded, regaining my
composure. “But don’t forget the promise you made to me in Beijing,
when the wolf died. I think I will ask you to keep that promise
before this campaign is over.”

“Whatever you want, my friend, but is a
promise necessary?”

“No, no, it’s just that I want my best
friend by my side at the end.”

“Then he will be…let’s race to the
camp.”

“And the loser?”

“The loser is a loser, what else?” he said
as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

Gurgenc

I’d never seen such a fertile land anywhere.
Green grass, small streams, low hills, and scattered trees were all
around. We moved on toward the sunset for days on roads widened by
frequent caravans. We passed through scenery of wide fields and
small villages, but all the settlements we passed were empty. Our
reputation had preceded us. Save for some plundering, we reached
the city without fighting anyone.

The city was built near a giant river, and
it was massive. It spread over a wide area and was surrounded by
walls so high that birds perched on them. I’d never seen such a
sight. Deep moats surrounded the city, and their depths exaggerated
the magnitude of the walls. The city was a masterpiece of human
construction, and its glory was easily felt.

It took days to settle my army near the
water sources of the city. We remained safe outside of firing range
while we waited for our forces to gather and I sent a messenger
with a carefully prepared warning:.

“I am the son of Genghis Khan and the one
who has the right to these lands. I have shed no blood in your
country nor tortured anyone, and, if you surrender, you will join
the vast empire of Genghis Khan and be protected. However, if you
resist and delay the inevitable, there will be no mercy.”

We waited for a response and soon got it:
the head of the poor messenger.

The city was besieged from all sides. The
roads were occupied, and the empty neighboring villages and towns
were set on fire and plundered. The water sources of the city were
blocked, and the waiting process began. Meanwhile, a black tent had
already been pitched in front of the city’s gate. Their fate was
certain.

I chose to wait for the necessary siege
works and equipment. I sent messengers to my father, and my father
stated that he would send some of the forces that had already
conquered the city of Otrar. After a few months of waiting, a force
under the command of Cagatay arrived with siege tools. Our force
now numbered one-hundred thousand.