Dragonwall

17

After an uneventful but rigorous five-day ride from the summer palace to Shou Kuan, Batu now stood in a courtyard that had once belonged to the besieged city's prefect. Along with Koja and Ju-Hai Chou, he was awaiting his turn to meet the khahan of the Tuigan.

Half an inch of autumn snow covered the stone pavement, and a chilly wind whipped over the brick-faced walls, but the prematurely bleak weather did not bother Batu's hosts. The khahan and his officers had dragged a dozen rolled rugs from the prefect's mansion and were using them as cushions. They now sat in a rough semicircle, exposed to the elements and drinking fermented mare's milk from gold and silver goblets.

The Tuigan wore grimy trousers and filthy silk tunics called kalats. Precious stones glittered from gold settings on their fingers, around their necks, and in their scabbards. The khahan's feet rested on an open chest filled with delicate jade figurines, endless strings of pearls, carved ivory, and other priceless treasures. The emperor of Shou Lung had sent the chest with Koja as a peace gift.

In the center of the barbarians' semicircle, Kwan Chan Sen lay spread-eagled on the ground, bound by his wrists and ankles to four heavy stones. For the last hour and a half, he had been screaming horribly. Considering what the Tuigan had put him through, it was no wonder. Two barbarians were still torturing him while the others watched. The khahan occasionally shouted advice or made wagers on how long the old man would survive.

Batu watched the scene with cool detachment. He felt no delight in watching his nemesis die so horribly, yet he experienced no pity. Kwan's agony seemed remote and unreal, as if the event were being reported by a messenger. Even considering the hatred between the two men, his lack of emotion did not surprise Batu. Nothing had stirred his feelings since the morning of Ting's execution. It was an emotional state well-suited to a renegade soldier.

The horrible sound coming from Kwan's throat changed into barely discernible words. "Cut my liver!" he gasped. "Please-I'm protected by magic. It's the only way I can die."

A swell of laughter surged through the ring of barbarians, and several began arguing as to how this revelation should affect their wagers.

Koja turned to Ju-Hai, his face a sickly shade of yellow. "For your sake," he said sympathetically, "I hope all Shou mandarins are not protected by such magic."

Ju-Hai shook his head. He was biting his lip, and his face was as pale as snow. Still, he was struggling to maintain his composure. Ripping his eyes away from Kwan, the ex-minister answered Koja. "No. I didn't even know Kwan had such protection. I have often wondered why such an old man seemed so hardy."

Batu had wondered the same thing many times, especially during the journey of the past week. With their horses well-fed and rested, the Tuigan army had ridden like the wind. Even for a man as battle-hardened as Batu, the pace had been strenuous, and the renegade general had often expected to find Kwan dead in the saddle. The old man had endured amazingly well, riding from dawn until past dusk, eating on the move and stopping to rest only when it grew so dark that the horses stumbled.

Covering up to a hundred miles a day, the Tuigan had quickly left their Shou escorts behind. The rapid pace had made Batu suspect treachery, but Koja had assured him that such travel rates were not unusual for the barbarians. They were simply rushing back to tell their commander the good news. The procession had stopped only once during daylight hours, when, on Koja's recommendation, Batu paused in a village to buy a personal gift for the khahan.

Finally, the small army had reached Shou Kuan. Batu and Ju-Hai had visited the general from Wak'an to deliver a letter from the emperor. The letter placed the astonished general in charge of all the provincial armies, and informed him of the emperor's acceptance of the peace terms. After an awkward farewell, Batu had accompanied the barbarians into the city.

That had been over two hours ago, and Batu still had not been formally introduced to Yamun Khahan. As soon as Koja had arrived and announced that the peace proposal had been accepted, the Tuigan ruler had ordered Kwan's death in celebration. Batu had not anticipated such a long wait, but he now guessed the khahan would be in good humor when Koja finally presented him.

As Batu watched the barbarians inflict yet more pain on Kwan, he realized that Koja's words in Tai Tung had been true. The Tuigan universally delighted in suffering, and Batu knew that even at his cruelest, he could never have matched the punishment the barbarians inflicted on the former Minister of War.

The contrast reminded the renegade Shou that though he shared some of their blood, he shared nothing of the horse-warriors' culture. He suddenly realized how alone he would be when Ju-Hai died. For a moment, he doubted the wisdom of his decision to leave Shou Lung, but the feeling passed as he tried to think of what remained for him there. With the Tuigan, at least, he would have his fill of fighting.

The two torturers finished their latest procedure and Kwan, protected by his magic, continued to beg for death. For several minutes, the Tuigan discussed new ways to amuse themselves with his pain. Finally, the khahan raised his hand to demand silence.

"We have had fun enough this day," he said in the thick, guttural language of the Tuigan. The khahan motioned to end the prisoner's misery.

One of Kwan's tormentors plunged a knife into the old man's liver. After the last scream died away, the khahan continued. "We have serious things to consider. The mares have stopped giving milk, and we have drank so much stallion blood that we should change our name to 'People of the Leech.'"

A chorus of raucous laughter rounded the circle of barbarians.

The khahan turned his golden goblet upside down. A few curdled drops of milk slid out of the cup. "This is the last of the kumiss," he said. "In another week, we will be reduced to drinking water and eating our friends."

Batu thought that Yamun was making another joke, but no one laughed.

The khahan looked toward Koja. "It is good, then, that Koja, my anda, returns from his mission successfully."

Koja bowed, then said, "It was the light of your wisdom and the fear of your wrath that persuaded the ruler of Shou Lung to accept our terms," he said. "I was only the humble vessel of your message."

"No doubt," the khahan replied. Looking in Batu's direction, he said, "I see you have brought a guest."

Taking Batu by the arm, Koja walked into the middle of the Tuigan circle. Remembering the elaborate security precautions surrounding his own emperor, Batu was surprised to see that no one took his sword.

Though the barbarians were seated outside, the air was ripe with the fetid smell of old sweat and fermented milk. Fortunately, Batu had grown accustomed to the odor of unbathed soldiers on the trail. He showed no outward sign of his disgust.

After guiding Batu into a kneeling position, Koja said, "Illustrious Emperor, I present Batu Min Ho, the commander of the Shou armies who opposed your mighty will."

The khahan leaned forward, staring at Batu with a fierce expression of displeasure. The ruler had the butter-colored skin and flat nose common to the Tuigan, but his features were so strong and sharp that they seemed chiseled in stone. The shape of his face was almost square, marked as it was by the hard lines of his jaw. A narrow mustache drooped over the corners of his tense-lipped mouth, and his strong cheekbones rode high on his face. His black and narrow eyes were set under a coal-colored brow.

The khahan looked back to Koja. "I did not ask for this man's life."

"I asked to see you," Batu said, daring to speak without permission.

Though clearly surprised that Batu spoke his language, the khahan did not seem offended at the Shou's boldness. "Why?"

"To present you with a personal gift," Batu said.

The khahan shifted his feet, purposely knocking a jade statue and an ivory talisman out of the chest. "Your emperor has sent me gifts," he said, curling his lips into a sneer.

"I am sure the Illustrious Emperor of All Peoples will find Batu's gift more to his liking," Koja interrupted. "Your guards are holding it outside the gate."

"Very well," the khahan responded suspiciously. "Bring it in."

An officer dutifully opened the gate, then one of the khahan's black-robed guards led in a horse bearing a small portion of Batu's gift.

The khahan's eyes lit up when he saw the two casks. "Wine?"

Batu nodded. "There are a hundred more casks, all from the finest plum orchards in Ching Tung."

"Wine from plums?" sneered one of the men seated with the khahan. He was a lean soldier with shifty eyes and a mistrustful expression.

"Wine is wine, Chanar," the khahan responded. "Tap a cask!"

Several Tuigan rose to obey, and the khahan watched them with a rapacious expression. After they had inserted the spigot, Yamun thrust his goblet at a quiverbearer to have it filled, then turned back to Batu. "Your gift is most welcome. We have done without wine since our second battle in this land." He paused and frowned. "Rather than leave a drop for our tongues, your peasants spilled it on the ground, the dogs!"

"On my orders," Batu revealed.

"That order cost many Shou lives," the khahan responded, grimacing at the remembrance of so many days without libation.

"It also slowed your advance," Batu replied, "and that cost many Tuigan lives."

The officer returned the khahan's goblet, but the Tuigan leader did not immediately drink. "You would do well to remember that you are in the enemy camp," Yamun warned.

Batu shrugged, not intimidated. "It is written that there are no rules in war."

The khahan's eyes narrowed and once again he regarded Batu suspiciously. "I have no use for reading," he replied, looking down his nose at the full goblet in his hand. A moment later, he handed the wine back to the quiverbearer. "I forget my manners" he said, staring into Batu's eyes. "Our guest has no cup. Let him drink from mine."

The other Tuigan, who had been waiting for the khahan to drink before lifting their own cups, nervously glanced at their own wine and wondered if the Shou had poisoned it.

The officer delivered the khahan's goblet to Batu, then stepped away.

"Go ahead," the khahan urged.

Batu raised his goblet to Yamun's companion, saying, "To the khahan's health."

The officers blanched, then lifted their vessels toward their lips. Even if the drink were poisoned, refusing to toast the khahan's health would have been an insult to their commander.

"No!" the khahan boomed, rising to his feet.

Sighing in relief, the officers stopped short of drinking.

"Our guest should drink the first cup alone," Yamun continued. "After all, he has had a long journey and we would not want him to find us lacking in courtesy."

Looking around the courtyard, Batu was glad the wine was not poisoned. Every officer held a full cup in one hand, and kept his other wrapped around his sword hilt. If the renegade general had refused to drink, he was sure he would have met a fate worse than Kwan's.

Batu rested his gaze on Yamun, then lifted the goblet in the powerful Tuigan's direction. "To my health, then!" He drained the wine in one long gulp.

The ronin wiped the spillage off his chin with his sleeve, as he was sure any Tuigan would have done. Still not taking his eyes off the khahan, Batu thrust the cup at the quiver-bearer, ordering, "Get me another."

The khahan smiled broadly, then called to the servant, "Not before you fetch me a fresh cup!"

As the youth scurried into the mansion in search of another goblet, the khahan returned to his seat and addressed Batu. "Your nerve amuses me, General, but war is no game. When it is over, opponents do not meet each other to brag about their victories over cups of wine-even if it is not poisoned. Why have you come to my camp?"

"I am a soldier in search of a war," Batu responded.

The khahan frowned, then twisted the end of his drooping mustache between his thumb and forefinger. "What do you mean?"

"I am ronin, a soldier without a country," he said. "I have an insatiable appetite for fighting and war, and Koja suggested I would find plenty of both with you."

"You did express your admiration for the enemy general's talents, Divine Master of the World," Koja interjected.

"That was before he knew the man would betray his own country," responded the lanky officer known as Chanar.

Batu turned on Chanar. "You are unaware of my reasons for leaving Shou Lung, so I will forgive your insult-once."

Scowling, Chanar reached for his sword, but Yamun raised a hand to stop him. "Chanar, you have just earned the right to stand in my sight again," the khahan said. "Are you so anxious to lose it?"

"You heard the dog!" Chanar objected.

Koja leaned toward Batu and whispered, "Him, you must watch. Were Chanar not an old friend of the khahan, his treachery would have been the end of him long ago. As it is, he only regained the right to stand within the Mighty One's sight by saving the khahan from capture."

Ignoring Chanar, Yamun asked Batu, "Why do you leave the emperor's service?"

"I am sorry, mighty khahan, but my reasons must remain my own," Batu responded, bowing his head to Yamun. He was not anxious to reveal the extent of his feelings for his family. He suspected that among dedicated soldiers like the Tuigan, such emotions would be regarded as a weakness.

The khahan frowned. "Nothing is yours that I wish to have."

The quiverbearer returned, saving Batu from the necessity of an immediate response. The young man gave a goblet of wine to the khahan, then another to Batu. The khahan lifted his cup, saying, "To my health, General!"

"To your health," Batu responded.

They each downed their wine in one long gulp. After they had given the goblets to the officer to refill, the khahan said, "A fine drink, though it is sweeter than wine I have had before." Without changing tone, the khahan returned to the subject of Batu's secret. "Few enemies have tricked me, and none have lived to brag about it, save you. Only a fool would let such an enemy go free, for that man will surely return to defeat him another day. So I have only two choices: take you into my ordu, or kill you."

When his words had no visible effect on Batu, the khahan continued, "If I am to accept you into my clan and my army, I must know why you left your own. A horse who throws one master may throw another."

Batu nodded. In similar circumstances, he would have had the same suspicions as the khahan. "There are not many horses in Shou Lung," Batu answered. "Perhaps that is because the masters do not protect the mares and foals while the stallion is away at war."

The khahan asked, "Am I to take it that one of your wives and her children were killed while you fought us?"

"In Shou Lung, we have only one wife and but a few children, Mighty One," Batu replied. "They died under the protection of the Shou emperor."

"That is why you have renounced your duty to your master?" the khahan asked. "Because he allowed your household to die?"

Batu nodded, uneasy about revealing this weakness.

"That is no reason!" Chanar said. "An honorable soldier does not place his family above his commander!"

Chanar had barely finished the sentence before Batu stepped toward him, placing a hand on his sword hilt. As the Tuigan saw the Shou's intention, his jaw went slack and his eyes opened wide in surprise. He quickly rose to his feet and gripped the hilt of his own weapon.

"Apologize!" Batu hissed.

"I will not," Chanar responded, regaining his composure. "You must see that you'll be killed the instant you draw your weapon."

As if to emphasize the point, a dozen Tuigan stepped toward Batu.

The ronin paid them no attention. "Where or when I die does not matter," Batu said, stepping closer to the object of his wrath. "Apologize!"

Chanar looked to the khahan. "Let me kill this insolent mongrel," he said.

"Leave your blade in its sheath," the khahan replied, his voice perfectly calm. "Batu is a guest in my camp, and I will not be dishonored by having his blood spilled-especially when it is your own dull wit and sharp tongue that provoked him. Batu warned you not to insult his honor."

Chanar's face reddened, but he left his weapon in its sheath. Glaring at Batu, he said, "I meant no disrespect, renegade. I apologize."

"For now, that will do," Batu responded. He took his hand off his weapon. Chanar returned to his seat, staring at the Shou with undisguised hatred.

Yamun addressed Batu. "The next time you threaten one of my officers, you had best be prepared to use your weapon."

"I was prepared," Batu responded, bowing to show that he meant no disrespect to the khahan.

The Tuigan's eyes narrowed. "Yes-I suppose you were."

Yamun took a long pull from his goblet, his brow furrowed in reflection. Finally, he lowered the cup and said, "I will consider your request, General Batu. Until I decide, you shall remain a welcome guest in my camp." He looked at his officers to be certain they had heard and understood his words, pausing for special emphasis at Chanar.

A moment later, the khahan turned his gaze back to Batu. "You have given me a gift and I must give you a better one. Is there anything in this camp you want?"

Batu studied the courtyard carefully. Though there was enough wealth in it to ransom a lord, Batu was not interested in gold. His eyes came to rest on Ju-Hai Chou, the one man in the government whom he had been justified in trusting.

"Great Khahan," Batu answered, "when a man goes too long without wine, it becomes more valuable than gold, does it not?"

The khahan scowled, but he said, "This is true. No man can drink gold."

"Then, in all of your camps, there is only one gift equal to the wine I brought," Batu replied, pointing at Ju-Hai. "Him."

Koja quickly grasped Batu's arm. "No!" the lama hissed. "He tried to kill the khahan, so he must die. If you try to save him, you will perish with him."

Batu shook the man off and pointed at Ju-Hai again. "Him," he repeated.

"What Koja says is true," the khahan warned. "Ju-Hai Chou must die."

Ju-Hai could not understand the Tuigan language, but he clearly knew he was being discussed. He looked at Batu with a hopeful expression, though his complexion remained pale.

"I know," Batu answered. "I merely ask for the privilege of killing him."

The khahan smiled. "What you ask is a great gift, but I am a man of honor and will keep my word. Bring the prisoner forward."

Two officers rose and led Ju-Hai into the center of the circle. Batu drew his sword. "Minister Ju-Hai, please turn around," he said, speaking Shou.

"What are you going to do?" the ex-mandarin demanded, his voice trembling.

Ju-Hai had ridden all the way from Tai Tung to Shou Kuan with his head held high, but the renegade general did not blame him for being frightened now.

"Turn around," Batu repeated. "It will be quicker and less painful."

As he realized that his friend had not saved him, Ju-Hai began to shake. Nevertheless, he did as instructed. "I understand," he began. "My grat-"

Batu swung. The sword bit into the back of Ju-Hai's neck, killing him instantly and mercifully.

"What do you mean by that?" Chanar demanded. Even before Ju-Hai's body had hit the snowy cobblestones, the Tuigan had risen to his feet and pointed an angry finger at Batu.

"This man was a friend," Batu responded simply, cleaning his blade on Ju-Hai's samfu. "I did not want to see him die like an animal."

"You've insulted the khahan!" Chanar insisted.

"I will decide when I have been insulted," Yamun responded. "The prisoner's death was Batu's gift. If he wished to waste it, that is his privilege. Now sit down, Chanar, We have much to discuss."

After Chanar returned to his rug, the khahan turned to Batu. "Your loyalty to your friend is impressive, and I no longer doubt your motivations. If you are going to fight in my army, you must learn that I am the Illustrious Emperor of All Peoples. Obviously, this other emperor, the one who allowed your wife and children to die under his protection, must be an impostor. Is this not so?"

"Clearly, you are correct, Mighty One," Batu said, bowing. He could not help but compare the magnificence of the summer palace to the disorder of the khahan's besieged court, but he also knew there was more to being an emperor than the trappings of priceless and pointless luxury.

"You swear allegiance to me?" Yamun asked.

"For as long as you feed and pay me," Batu replied.

The khahan grinned. "Honestly spoken," he said. "Sit down." The khahan waved Batu to his side.

"I am honored," the Shou said, taking the seat to the khahan's right. "I look forward to fighting at your side."

After Batu was seated, the khahan began a general discussion about where his armies should attack next. Chanar favored breaking their word and riding on the Shou capitol. Another officer wanted to invade Tabot, the mountain kingdom on Shou Lung's southwestern border. One man, clearly a fool in Batu's opinion, even suggested capturing a fleet and sailing against the islands of Wa.

After listening patiently to each recommendation, the khahan turned to Batu. "You know this land better than any of us," he said. "Which option do you recommend?"

Batu did not even have to consider his answer. "None," he said. "You know less about sailing than Shou do about horsemanship, so I would not recommend attacking the Wa Islands. In the high mountains of Tabot, horses would prove more of a hindrance than an advantage, so attacking there would be bad judgment."

"And what about the Shou capitol?" the khahan asked, studying Batu with a raised eyebrow.

"You have made a peace agreement with Shou Lung," Batu responded, meeting Yamun's gaze with an intentionally blank expression.

"As you have said, in war, there are no rules," the khahan countered.

"True," the Shou replied cautiously. "In war, there are no rules. In personal conduct, however, there are. You have given your word, and I cannot recommend that you break it."

Batu paused, studying the khahan. The ruler's expression was unreadable, but he did not doubt the man was seriously considering riding against Shou Lung once more.

But to his surprise, the Tuigan ruler said, "What you say is wise, Batu. A man should keep his word." The khahan studied the faces of his officers for a moment, then returned to the Shou and asked, "So, where do we go?"

"If you cannot go east, north, or south, there is only one direction left," Batu answered. "West."