Swords From the East (31 page)

Mingan had been well content these last years. He had gone with the Horde when Genghis Khan led his power-strengthened by the Keraits-against the peoples of the Roof of the World, as far as the bleak mountains that offered only rock-strewn sides that vanished up among the clouds,*
and as far to the west as the fortified cities of the Turks. Mingan liked the experiences of new lands, listening to the talk of philosophers and astrologers.

The fellowship of the three palladins had continued unbroken, although now, with their duties as commanders, they were seldom together. As they assembled their followers and rode down the passes toward Tangut, Mingan was thoughtful.

"The successes of Genghis," he observed, "are due to two things. His campaigns have been on level land where horsemen can maneuver readily, and he is the finest leader of men in Asia. Lesser chiefs have attached themselves to him for their own advantage. Yet the horsemen of the Horde cannot out-maneuver the walled cities of Cathay, and Chung-hi's forces have machines to throw stones and fire and great javelins. As against the three hundred thousand of the Horde, Chung -hi has a million."

"You are middle-aged and foolish," scoffed the Tiger. "Mountains are as bad for horses as walls, yet Genghis built bridges of chains and tree trunks across these gorges and roads around the steep slopes. I will wager with you a hundred milk-white Arab barbs against gold to the weight of a man that I ride my horse through the Wall."

"You will not do that. Ah, it is in my mind to turn the heart of Genghis from this war."

"As well try to stem one of yonder freshets. But do you take Iny wager?"

"Very well."

It was a clear, star-lit night when Mingan answered for himself to the mounted patrols outside Tangut, entering the familiar lines of the camp across the river from the city. He picked his way through the horse herds, sniffing the warm odors of the felt tents, the taint of dung-smoke in the air, and the smell of leather and the reek of the camels that muttered dismally somewhere out of sight.

There were miles of tents, and standards that Mingan had never seen before, as well as black, shapeless masses standing in line. Carts, they were, loaded with supplies. Beside these were innumerable oxen, their muzzles thrust placidly into dried grass and barley on the ground.

All at once, as if he saw the Horde with new eyes, Mingan became aware of its power. And now-it faced Cathay.

Horses thudded softly past him, turning into the tent lanes, as he made out the yak-tail standard planted in front of the largest pavilion. As Mingan dismounted to enter the palace tent, he raised his eyes and beheld against the horizon glow the castle of Prester John.

It was now, he thought, the tomb of the blind king who had kept faith with his God. What if Prester John had not withstood Jamuka. He might be alive, and Mingan dead at the hands of the Turks. He wondered if there was a destiny that shaped men's fortunes, and if the stars foretold destiny.

The hour was late, but lights still burned in the palace tent. Genghis Khan was laying on the summit of a mighty dais; his women were seated on the step, tending the candles and giving food and drink to the assembled officers. Burta, her head against the knee of the chieftain, looked at him and smiled.

"Mende sun tabe tiniger buis ta? Are you quite hail and well, my companion?" Genghis Khan greeted his friend. "Talk to me, 0 teller of tales. I would sleep until the dawn hour."

Chepe Noyon and the higher officers made their adieus, to seek their commands before the Horde should move eastward at daybreak. Some of the candles guttered out, while the guards of the pavilion leaned on their spears to take rest as they might. The captains, sword-bearers, the masters of the herds, and others who remained under the dais put their heads on their arms and slept at once, while Mingan's voice repeated the familiar tales of hunting and the far-off places of Cathay that Genghis Khan liked to hear of.

Once when a gust of air stirred the banners overhead, brushing the tresses of Burta who also listened to Mingan, chin on hand, the Khan started up.

"Did the soul of Yesukai, my father, speak? Surely then there came a messenger from the sky-world of the elder heroes while I slept. I will follow the path of vengeance, for that Yesukai died of Cathayan poison."

"0 my lord," Burta's soft voice made response, "it was Mingan."

She watched the eyes of the chieftain close. On the morrow Genghis Khan would leave her and only the gods knew when he would return. She loosed the gold chaplet from her forehead so that her dark hair fell around her face and Mingan could not see that she was sorrowful.

The teller of tales ceased his recital. The clink and thud of a mailed regiment passed the pavilion, answering the hoarse shout of the captain of the guard. Genghis Khan stirred and slept again. But his mouth was set in a hard line, furrows in his sloping forehead. Mingan, searching his face, knew that Temujin, the boy of the horse herd was long dead, and Genghis Khan had replaced him, a leader and a slayer of men.

The Horde did not sleep. And Genghis Khan was Master of the Horde; he had made it. Mingan started up as if out of a long slumber, a drowsiness of fifteen years. He touched Burta's knee and put into her hand the gold tablet of palladin that he took from his girdle.

"0 mother of princes, to you I say farewell. When the Khan wakens give this tablet to him, saying that Mingan, the friend of Temujin, is no longer at his side; but Ye Liu Chutsai Mingan of Liao-tung rides to join his people and share their fortunes."

His lips barely moved in a low whisper.

"My sword and sword-belt are without the palace tent. I will leave them there. To Chepe Noyon and Subotai give greetings and my farewell. If ever I have served you, remember it for two hours, until the Horde arises for the march. Two hours must I have to win clear. Then forget the name of Mingan. Kai-be it so."

Not daring to remonstrate or answer, she nodded reluctantly. Over their heads the shoulders of the chief stirred as he raised himself on his hands, his eyes alert. He was wide awake and he had heard the message of the orkhon.

Mingan stood up.

"I cannot ride against my people. I must range myself with them, now that the Khan wars with Cathay."

He slipped down the dais steps and out the door, scarcely noticing the salute of the captain of the guard. Genghis Khan reached down and touched Burta's shoulder:

"Give it to me-the tablet!"

Stifling a scream, her fingers pressing her lips, the queen handed him the square of gold, and his throat snarled as he felt of it. Quietly, so as not to awaken the sleepers, he made his way to the tent entrance. The officer on guard strode toward him watchfully; then, seeing who it was, he fell on his knees.

"Gur-khan," the chief ordered brusquely, "seek out Mingan's brand from the pile. Take it, follow the hero to his tents, and be as his shadow until he quits the last line of our patrols and then-" his voice sank to whispered gutturals. "Fear not for your post; I will take command of the guard."

When the man had left to carry out his errand, the chief remained standing by the tent, looking up at the stars incuriously. He did not bother his head about portents or the working of destiny. He had his own way of dealing with men. Mingan had faltered, had become like a lame horse that must be loosed from harness.

Only Genghis Khan was sad.

Mingan handed his helmet and mail to his cup-bearer, and divested himself of his long mantle. He glanced around his tent at the bronze astronomical instruments, the carved ivory objects, the neatly piled manuscripts that he had collected in the last years. Then with a sigh he took down a hunting spear from the tent wall, a sheepskin cloak and saddle bags filled with food from the hand of another servant, and made his way to the picket-line of his horses.

Selecting the gray stallion, now a little aged and stiff of limb, and a longstriding mare, Mingan ordered a saddle for the gray. He tested girths and breast-strap before mounting, and then led the mare by her halter.

An hour later he passed out of the tent lines, a little uneasy, for it seemed to him that another rider followed. If he should be halted and questioned, the danger would be grave. He was leaving the Horde in time of war without permission and soon Burta would deliver her message, he assured himself.

If there was a man on earth that Mingan hated, it was Chung-hi, the new emperor. Yet no man more than the Prince of Liao-tung knew the menace that now confronted Cathay. Inbred in him was the sense of loyalty to the reigning dynasty. He had sworn to the dead emperor that he would be faithful to that dynasty, as had his fathers for countless generations. Mingan could not go to them with a clear face if he did not keep his oath.

To do so, he must first try to reach the Wall before Mukuli and Subotai should attack it. Then he must present himself at the Dragon Throne and abide by what followed. What? Mingan looked up at the stars searchingly, for the first time in his life wondering whether the planets were truly the messengers of destiny-

"Draw rein and stand. What is this led horse? Where do you come from and by whose order?"

Unseen by him, several horsemen had been waiting in the deep shadow under some willows by the river road. Mingan was confronted by a suspicious lieutenant, the commander of a patrol who did not know him by sight. From force of habit he felt his girdle for the gold tablet, then realized that he no longer had an insignia of rank.

While he pondered, a horse trotted up behind him and an authoritative voice spoke:

"I am gur-khan of the imperial guard. This man goes forth by permission of the Khan."

The newcomer exhibited the baton of a captain in the half-light of approaching dawn. The patrol was satisfied. Then, without ado, the gurkhan handed Mingan his own sword, belting it into place. Gathering up his reins, he lifted his hand.

"May the way be open before you." He gave the customary salutation at parting. "Keep your distance from the path of the Horde, orkhon."

"May it be well with you," Mingan answered mechanically.

Urging his horse forward, he struck into a trot. He was on the first leg of a seventeen hundred mile ride to the Gobi and across the heart of the desert-to the Wall.

XI

Distance Proves the Horse's Strength

Distance proves the horse's strength and time the heart of man.

-Chinese proverb

The gong in the tower over the Taitung or Western Gate of the Great Wall of Cathay struck the first hour of the day with an echoing clang. The commander of a thousand opened his almond eyes, yawned, spat, and stood up, pretending not to look to see if the nearest commander of ten had noticed that he had been asleep. Satisfied, the officer who had charge of the gate put on his wide-brimmed and tasseled hat, straightened the quilted coat on his broad belly, and tightened the belt from which hung the heavy, two-handed sword that dragged on the ground. After first pouring a sparing libation to Kwan-ti, god of war, he drank eagerly from a goblet of elderberry wine.

It was hot under the tower roof. Sweat, even at this hour of sunrise, trickled down the plump back of the commander of a thousand, and the wide, dusty road that wound into the plain of the west was whitish-yellow as the well-kept hands of the stout officer. For this was the month of the feast of Hao, when the sun was like a red ball in the midsummer sky.

Yet this month, Chung-hi, the Son of the Dragon, was not coming to hunt in the western plain. Instead, herds of cattle, horses, and men were pressing into the gates of the Wall to escape the Mongols, who, in the estimation of the worthy officer, were uncouth barbarians.

He saw that the forces guarding the towers had been doubled. On the summit of the wall, eight paces wide and as high, blue-smocked soldiers were chattering over the morning rice pots.

A double line of spearmen was forming at the road inside the ponderous gates. A score of crossbowmen had laid down their weapons in readiness to lift down the three iron bars that had held shut the gate during the night. The officer yawned and almost forgot the customary morning kowtow toward the Great Court. He blinked and scanned the sky-no smoke rising above the trees by the highway to the west; no hostile cavalry in sight. Only the herds of cattle, somewhat larger than usual, the tattered herders, and a dust-stained beggar with a long beard who limped forward, leaning on a staff, trying to push his way through the crowded cattle.

All was quiet. He gave the order to open the gate.

One after the other, the three bars came down. The lock was turned with a lever, and the weaponless archers laid hold of handles on the twin doors. Slowly, with a reluctant creak, the portals swung open.

The sun rose.

Dust eddied up as the cattle started into motion. The foremost steers passed under him, lowering their horns and grunting. The dust thick ened, and the outcries of the drivers grew louder. The commander of a thousand leaned against the framework of a catapult and fanned himself pleasantly.

"Worthy officer," observed a calm voice at his elbow, "it were well to close the gate. There are Mongols between the foothills of the Kinghan and here. In the night I heard the passing of their horses."

The fat man was disturbed to learn that the beggar with the beard had climbed the steps to the tower summit without being heard. So he became angry.

"Ignorant and worthless!" he reproved. "You do not know that there are watch-pillars every two ii between here and the hills. By day a warning smoke would be in the sky if the enemies of the Dragon were near-and a flare by night. I see nothing. Get you gone-I have no rice or water-"

So he said, observing the browned and cracked skin of the wanderer, the bloodshot eyes that glared with the glare of the dead. To show his superiority he quoted a proverb: "The blind man sees a ghost at night."

Somewhat to his surprise the tattered stranger responded with a proverb, speaking with the cultured inflection of a courtier.

"If you never climb a tree you will never see beyond the horizon. You, commander, can see the sky for five li. The Mongols can ride fifteen ii between sunset and sunrise, and, surrounding one of your watch-towers, they can keep the summit clear of defenders with their arrows while they batter in the gate. Look to yourself! "