The Khan Series 5-Book Bundle: Genghis: Birth of an Empire, Genghis: Bones of the Hills, Genghis: Lords of the Bow, Khan: Empire of Silver, Conqueror (89 page)

Yao Shu was bare-chested, despite the altitude. He seemed not to feel the cold, and as Chagatai walked in a circle, making him turn, the falling snowflakes rested as they touched the monk’s shoulders. Yao Shu was breathing lightly, though Chagatai was already flushed and bruised from the bout. He eyed the monk’s stick, wary of a sudden strike. Though the little Buddhist disdained swords, he used the stick as if he had been born to it. Chagatai felt stabbing aches in his ribs and left leg where he had been struck. He had not yet landed a blow of his own, and his temper simmered close to the surface.

The crowd had grown, swelling with idle warriors. There was little else to do and they were always curious. The pass was too narrow for more than a few hundred of them to watch the practice, and they pushed and squabbled amongst themselves as they tried to give the fighters room. Chagatai sensed the movement in the crowd before he saw his father and uncles walking through, the ranks pressing back rather than jostle their generals. He clenched his jaw, resolving to get in at least one good blow while Genghis watched.

To think was to act and Chagatai darted in, bringing his stick around in a short, chopping blow. If Yao Shu had remained still, it would have cracked him in the head, but he ducked and tapped Chagatai sharply in the lower ribs before stepping away.

It was not a hard strike, but Chagatai colored with anger.

Yao Shu shook his head. “Remain calm,” the monk murmured. It was the boy’s chief failing in the practice bouts. There was nothing wrong with his balance or reflexes, but his temper undid him every time. Yao Shu had worked for weeks to get Chagatai to stay cold in battle, to put aside rage as much as fear. The two emotions seemed permanently linked in the young warrior, and Yao Shu was resigned to slow progress.

Chagatai circled, reversing his gait just as it looked like he might attack. Yao Shu swayed back to meet the stick as it came in low. He blocked it with ease, snapping out his left fist against Chagatai’s cheek. He saw the boy’s eyes flare and rage took over, as it had done many times before. Chagatai came in fast, his stick blurring. The crowd whooped at the cracking sounds as he was blocked again and again. Chagatai’s arms were burning when he tried to step away, and at that moment, the monk trapped his foot under his own, sending Chagatai sprawling.

Their movements had taken them away from the open ground between two gers. Yao Shu would have spoken to Chagatai, but he sensed someone close behind him and turned, always alert.

It was Kachiun who stood there, his face showing nothing. Yao Shu bowed briefly to the general, still listening for the sound of Chagatai coming at him again.

Kachiun bent his head close, though the noisy crowd could hardly have overheard.

“Will you give him nothing, monk?” Kachiun murmured. “With his father watching and men the boy will command?”

Yao Shu looked up at the Mongol general blankly. He had trained to master his body. The thought of letting a blustering child like Chagatai strike him was a strange concept. If it had been a more modest warrior, one who would not crow about it for months, Yao Shu might have agreed. For the khan’s spoiled second son, he only shook his head.

Kachiun would have spoken again, but both of them jerked as Chagatai attacked from behind, desperate for any advantage. Kachiun firmed his mouth in annoyance as he watched Yao Shu step clear with smooth strides, almost sliding across the ground. The monk was always in balance and Kachiun knew Chagatai would not touch him that day. He watched coldly as Yao Shu blocked two more blows, then attacked harder and faster than before, giving Kachiun his answer.

All the warriors heard Chagatai’s “oof” as the stick thumped air from his lungs. Before he could recover, Yao Shu struck him on the right hand so that it sprang open and the stick fell. Without pausing, the monk passed his weapon through Chagatai’s legs, so that the boy went tumbling on the frozen ground. The crowd did not cheer as Yao Shu bowed to the prostrate son of a khan. They expected Chagatai to return the gesture, but instead he rose with his cheeks flaming and stalked from the open space without looking back.

Yao Shu held the pose longer than necessary, showing his own anger at having been ignored. It was his habit to discuss the bouts with the young warriors, explaining where they had failed and done well. In five years with the tribes, he had trained many of the men Genghis commanded and kept a school of twenty of the most promising. Chagatai was not one of those, but Yao Shu had learned enough of the world to understand his permission to remain came at a price. Today, it had been too high for him. He passed Kachiun without even glancing at the general.

Though many in the crowd looked at Genghis to see how he reacted to his son’s rudeness, the khan showed them the cold face. He turned to Temuge and Khasar after watching the monk pass Kachiun.

“That goat will be ready by now,” he said.

Temuge smiled for an instant, though it was not at news of hot food. In his innocence, the monk had made enemies of violent men. Perhaps they would teach him humility. The day had turned out rather better than Temuge could have hoped.

Yao Shu was a small man, but he still had to duck low to pass into the ger of the khan’s second wife. As he entered, he bowed to Chakahai, as befitted a princess of the Xi Xia. In truth, he cared nothing for the titles of men, but he admired the way the woman had made her place in Mongol society. It could not have been more alien to the court she had once known, but she had survived and Yao Shu liked her.

Ho Sa was already there, sipping the black tea her father sent to the camp. Yao Shu nodded to him, accepting a steaming cup from Chakahai’s own hands before settling himself. The camp was a small place in some ways, despite the vast, sprawling size of it. Yao Shu suspected Kachiun would know exactly how many times the three of them met and perhaps even had listeners outside. The thought made the tea seem sour in his mouth, and Yao Shu grimaced lightly. This was not his world. He had come to the camps to spread the gentle teachings of the Buddha. He did not know yet if that had been the right choice. The Mongols were a strange people. They seemed to accept whatever he told them, especially if he phrased the lessons in stories. Yao Shu had passed on much of the wisdom he had learned as a boy, but when the war horns sounded, the Mongols shrugged off his teachings and rushed to kill. There was no understanding them, but he had accepted it as his path. As he sipped, he wondered if Chakahai was so accepting of her role.

Yao Shu hardly spoke for a long time, as Ho Sa and Chakahai discussed the welfare of Chin soldiers in the khan’s tumans. Perhaps eight thousand men in the camp had once lived in Chin cities or been soldiers for the emperor himself. Yet as many had come from the Turkic tribes in the north. The Chin recruits should have had little influence, but Chakahai had seen to it that all senior men were served by her people. Through them, she knew as well as Kachiun himself what went on in the camps.

Yao Shu watched the delicate woman as she assured Ho Sa she would speak to her husband about the death rites for Chin soldiers. Yao Shu emptied his tea, taking pleasure in the bitter taste and the
sound of his own language in his ears. That was something he missed, without a doubt. His drifting thoughts were dragged sharply back at his own name.

“… perhaps Yao Shu can tell us,” Chakahai said. “He has been with my husband’s sons as much as any other.”

Yao Shu realized he had not heard the question and covered his embarrassment by holding out his bowl to be refilled.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

Chakahai sighed. “You have not been listening, my friend. I asked when Jochi would be fit enough to take his place with his men.”

“In another turn of the moon, perhaps,” Yao Shu replied immediately. “His wounds have remained clear, though his legs and arm will always be scarred from the hot irons. He has to rebuild the muscles there. I can work with him. At least he listens, unlike his foolish brother.”

Both Chakahai and Ho Sa stiffened slightly as he spoke. The servants had been sent away on an errand, but there were always ears to hear.

“I watched the practice, earlier,” Ho Sa said. He hesitated, aware of delicate ground. “What did General Kachiun say to you?”

Yao Shu looked up, irritated at the way Ho Sa’s voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.

“It is not important, Ho Sa, any more than it is important to guard my words in this ger. I speak truth as I find it.” He sighed audibly. “And yet, I was once fifteen years old and stupid. Perhaps Chagatai could still grow into a strong man, I do not know. As it stands, he is too much of an angry boy.”

For the monk, it was an astonishing outburst and Ho Sa blinked in surprise.

“That ‘angry boy’ may lead the tribes one day,” Chakahai said softly.

Yao Shu snorted into his tea. “I think sometimes that I have been among the tribes for too long. I should care nothing for which man inherits the horse-tail standard of his father, or even if these new enemies see it trampled into the dirt.”

“You have friends here, Yao Shu,” Ho Sa said. “Why should you not care what happens to us?”

The monk frowned to himself. “I thought once that I could be a voice for reason in this camp, that I might have an influence on the khan and his brothers.” He made a dismissive sound in his throat. “Such is the
arrogance of young men. I thought then that I might bring peace to the fierce hearts of the sons.” Yao Shu’s cheeks flushed slightly under his skin. “Instead, perhaps I will watch as Chagatai comes to lead his father’s people and takes them on to more destruction than any of us could imagine.”

“As you said, he is yet a boy,” Chakahai murmured, moved to see Yao Shu so distressed. “He will learn, or Jochi will lead the tribes.”

The monk’s face softened at her tone and he reached out to pat her on her shoulder.

“It has been a difficult day, Princess. Ignore what I have said. Tomorrow I will be a different man, with the past gone and the future unknown, as always. I am sorry to have brought my anger here.” His mouth twisted wryly. “At times, I think I am a bad Buddhist, but I would not be anywhere else.”

Chakahai smiled at him, nodding. Ho Sa refilled his own cup with the precious tea, deep in thought. When he spoke, his voice was very low and hard to hear.

“If Genghis falls in battle, it will be Kachiun who is khan. He has sons of his own and all of this would be like leaves in the wind.”

Chakahai tilted her head to listen. She was beautiful in the lamplight, making Ho Sa think again that the khan was a lucky man to have such a woman waiting in his gers.

“If my husband named an heir from among his sons, I think Kachiun would honor it.”

“If you push him to it, he will name Chagatai,” Ho Sa said. “The whole camp knows he does not favor Jochi, while Ogedai and Tolui are still too young.” He paused, suspecting that Genghis would not be pleased to have other men talking to his wife on such a subject. Still, he was curious. “Have you spoken to the khan about it?”

“Not yet,” Chakahai replied. “But you are right. I do not want Kachiun’s sons to inherit. Where would I be then? It is not so long since the tribes abandoned the families of dead khans.”

“Genghis knows that better than anyone,” Ho Sa said. “He would not want you to suffer as his mother suffered.”

Chakahai nodded. It was such a pleasure to be able to speak openly in her own language, so far from the guttural breathiness of Mongol speech. She realized she would rather go back to her father than see Chagatai become khan as things stood, yet Ho Sa spoke the truth. Kachiun had his own wives and children. Would any of them treat her with kindness if her husband fell? Kachiun perhaps would give her
honor, perhaps even send her back to the Xi Xia king. Yet there would always be some who looked to the old khan’s wives and sons for a figurehead. Kachiun would be safest in having them all killed on the same day his brother fell in battle. She bit her lip as she thought it through, disturbed to have such dark thoughts come to her ger. Genghis would not accept Jochi, she was almost certain. He had been laid up to heal for more than a month, and a leader needed to be seen by his men if he were not to be forgotten. Even then, she did not know him, only that Chagatai would be a poor choice. Her children would not long survive his rise, she was certain. She wondered if she had the skill to bring Chagatai to her side.

“I will think about it,” she told the two men. “We will find the right path through.”

Outside the ger, they could hear the wind moaning through the carts and homes of the Mongol nation. Both men heard the sadness in Chakahai’s voice as she dismissed them back to their posts to sleep.

As Yao Shu stepped out into the wind and snow, he shivered, pulling his deel close around his shoulders. It was not just the cold, which he hardly noticed after so many years wearing just a thin robe. At times, he felt he had taken a wrong turn in coming among the people of the horse. He liked them, for all their childlike arrogance and belief that they could order the world to suit them. The khan was a man to follow and Yao Shu had been impressed by him. Yet he had failed to find the right ears for the words of the Buddha. Only little Tolui seemed open to them and then only because he was so young. Chagatai laughed coarsely at any philosophy that did not involve grinding enemies under his heels, and Jochi seemed to listen with detached interest, letting the words and ideas flow over him without sinking in.

Yao Shu was lost in thought as he walked the snowy paths through the camp. Even then, he remained aware of his surroundings, and he knew the men were there as soon as they began to surround him. He sighed to himself. There was only one foolish boy who would have sent warriors to attack him that night. Yao Shu had not even brought his practice stick to the ger of Chakahai, believing himself safe.

Still, he was not a child to be ambushed by fools. He wondered if Chagatai had told them to kill him, or just break a few bones. It did not matter: his response would be the same. As the snow swirled, Yao Shu darted between two gers and attacked the first dark shape to loom up
before him. The man was too slow and Yao Shu dropped him neatly with a strike to the chin while he blocked the back foot with his own. He did not intend to kill in that mountain pass, but he heard other voices answer the sound and knew there were many of them. Footsteps pattered lightly from all directions and Yao Shu controlled the growing anger in his chest. It was unlikely that he knew the men, or they him. There would be no malice in the assault, unless he killed one of them. He shrugged to himself, thinking again that time amongst the tribes had changed him subtly. The Buddha would have let them come in without raising a hand in anger. Yao Shu shrugged as he padded toward another shadow. At least he was no longer cold.