The Tiger-Headed Horseman (11 page)

BOOK: The Tiger-Headed Horseman
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Little concerned Lily here. She had visited hundreds of times and, despite meeting various untoward characters who had frightened her, her fear had been little more than thrilling; there was no danger for her. This was a world where Lily could explore and expand her horizons with carefree abandon. She had her friend to look over her. From what Lily had experienced so far, her friend was an important spirit. Although she guessed that her friend was only about the same age as she was, perhaps a couple of years older, other spirits, regardless of age, tended to kowtow to her.

Standing upon the bridge, Lily looked across the river to the land beyond. She had never been to that side of the river. Her friend had suggested she stay on this side. Like any young lady, Lily was intrigued by implied danger. Her gaze into the distance was broken by a friendly sound. Three young puppies ran circles between her feet chasing one another. Their mother padded towards her more sedately. There were a great number of stray dogs in the spirit world and mostly they were affable. This family had been here for as long as Lily had visited.

Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out some scraps from the dinner she had prepared for Lucky and herself. The pups and their mother always seemed so grateful for Lily's kindness and generosity. They couldn't offer anything in return but nonetheless Lily was filled with a curious sense of having done something good and worthy each time she visited. The mother dog barked her appreciation as she led the puppies back down under the bridge. Lily smiled and returned her gaze to the land on the other side of the river.

Little stirred over there, but then again little stirred on this side either. A few trees swayed gently and a pillar of smoke rose from a small cluster of houses. There was nothing more or less remarkable than on this side of the river. The eerily echoing tones continued to soothe and reverberate around her ears.

‘Lily,’ said a quiet voice behind her, ‘how lovely to see you again.’

‘Hello,’ replied Lily. She didn't know her friend's name. Her friend always evaded that question. ‘I needed to get away. I wasn't able to think straight and there is so much I need to think about.’

‘Well,’ said her friend, ‘we are good at finding solutions here. Let's take a walk.’ She beckoned Lily to follow her.

Lily obliged without hesitation. Presently, they came to a bench beneath a tree. It wasn't particularly hot but it is always nice to sit under a tree canopy. The branches opened out overhead, their arms trailing down almost to the ground. Once the young ladies were seated, other spirits began to stir. People of and from all ages gently milled around beneath the tree's protection.

‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ said a man who looked like a Roman centurion. He was particularly handsome and Lily could not help admiring the musculature of his bronzed thighs. The Roman appreciated the admiring looks and flexed his muscles accordingly. The ladies laughed nervously. ‘Such pretty ladies. I do hope you enjoy the day. Would you mind helping me? Which way is the lighthouse? I must get back to Alexandria and see my dear girl.’ The Roman theatrically bent the arm he was pointing with so that his muscles bulged. Droplets of sweat ran out from beneath his armour. He winked and walked off.

‘Lovely day for a walk,’ said another man who wore a heavy bearskin hat and red military jacket. Lily thought the hat looked funny and began to giggle.

‘You must be roasting with that badger on your head!’ joked Lily. The man in the red jacket picked up his rifle, vigorously leaned it against his shoulder and marched off into invisibility. Her friend shot her a glance that stopped her humour dead.

‘We must be respectful!’ said her friend. ‘If you drink the
water, follow the custom.’ Lily knew that meant something; most of what her friend said did. It was just that sometimes Lily didn't quite understand what it was that was being said. ‘When you are in the spirit world, value those in the spirit world. You might learn something about yourself.’

‘I apologise,’ replied Lily. She knew she was more intelligent than to have acted like the child she used to be. She also wondered what it was that she might learn about herself. That sounded interesting. She was keen to listen to whatever her friend would say next.

‘Now,’ said her friend more calmly, ‘what is it that you want to think about?’

‘I . . .’ Lily hesitated. She worried that what she was about to say might sound fanciful or downright silly. She needed to know though and curiosity won out. ‘I received a golden box from my elders. In the box I found a message secretly hidden away from all but the most prying eyes. That message appears to have come from Chinggis Khaan. Have you heard of him?’

Her friend stood up abruptly. She looked displeased and a little startled.

‘What do you mean, you have a message from Chinggis Khaan?’ said Lily's friend.

‘So you
have
heard about him?’ said Lily.

‘Of course I have, you stupid child!’ replied her friend.

It was the first time that Lily's friend had spoken to her in anything other than a kindly tone. Lily was taken aback. She didn't know how to proceed. She wondered whether she had done something wrong.

Then, more calmly, her friend asked, ‘Are you sure it was from Chinggis Khaan?’

‘I have no evidence to the contrary,’ said Lily, trying to sound more grown up, ‘but neither do I have any evidence to confirm it. I just have a feeling that it is from him. It feels right.’

‘What do you mean, a feeling?’ asked her friend.

Lily's cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of red.

‘Well,’ said Lily coyly, ‘when I read the words I had a strange sensation in the very bottom of my stomach. It was as though Chinggis Khaan had been with me and had whispered the words directly into my ear. I know that sounds weird but I don't know how else to explain it.’

‘I have heard he has been known to have that effect on people sometimes,’ replied her friend dreamily.

‘What do you know about him?’ enquired Lily. ‘Did you ever, you know, meet him or anything either in this world or in the real one?’

‘Which one is real?’ said her friend. ‘He and I crossed paths but it was so long ago I can barely remember. He has a reputation, though. Many are aware of him but very few hear him. Those that do appear to have been chosen for a reason and are ultimately destined for greater things.’

‘Do . . . do you think he really chose me?’ asked Lily. She was excited at the prospect.

‘Had you thought about him before you received the box from your elders?’ asked her friend. ‘Did you ever wonder what it would be like to have met him and spent time in his company?’

‘Perhaps a little,’ said Lily. She wasn't sure where her friend was taking this conversation and, while she had spent a considerable amount of time with her, she didn't feel that she wanted to disclose her more intimate thoughts and feelings.

‘I can see by your hesitation that he has been long in your thoughts,’ probed her friend. ‘Do not be embarrassed. There is no shame in feeling as a woman ought to. I have often thought about him myself. It would appear that Chinggis has indeed identified you for some purpose. They say that he is still around somewhere, waiting for an opportunity to bring about peace to
his people. I am less sure. From what I see of your world they have little desire for anything other than carnal pleasure, and certainly not peace. What was it that your message said?’

Lily quoted Chinggis's words to her friend: ‘A tiger wearing a bell will starve and a cat that likes to eat fresh fish will not go into the water; however, the distance between Heaven and Earth is no greater than one thought.’

‘I think the feline references relate to the city dwellers of Baatarulaan,’ said Lily, ‘though I'm not certain. I don't know what the stuff about the bell and the starving means or about not going into the water. It's very obscure, isn't it? I'm not sure I even believe in Heaven, so that can't have anything to do with me, can it?’

Her friend looked at her pensively. It took her several minutes before she answered Lily.

‘You are correct about the “fat cats” – that much is true,’ said Lily's friend. ‘They are certainly odd people that live in that city. If only they knew how much more pleasant a culturally rich and honest way of life could be. If they could only see the great cities that stand on the oceans in the west or the river cities to their south. Then they might think about changing. Then they might see that there is a way other than evil, debasement and debauchery.’ Lily's friend sighed.

‘That's all very well,’ said Lily, ‘but no one knows anything about anything outside Ongolium. We all know the Legend of Khad. We all know that we have more than we need if only we could make it work. Anyway, what's this got to do with the words on the box? What about the other references?’

‘There are some things we can see clearly,’ said her friend, ‘there are others that we see but do not understand. You are a clever lady: you already know the answers you are seeking; you already have the solution available to you.’

Lily raised her eyebrows. She knew that conversations in the
spirit world were rarely straightforward and often unusual, but his one felt particularly silly.

‘Please!’ pleaded Lily. ‘I don't understand what you are saying. Can you please stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what it is that I need to know? If I am set to undertake some sort of challenge, I need your help in understanding what it is I am supposed to do.’

‘You already know,’ said her friend. ‘Are you not the youngest herder group leader of our age? Do you not have control over your shamanic gift? Are you not able to walk in both the physical and spirit worlds? All this and you appear to have some sort of bond with Chinggis Khaan, the greatest emperor of all time!’

‘I know,’ implored Lily, ‘but I am still young and have so much to learn. I need your help. I have never been anywhere other than the Steppe. I have never met anyone other than herders. I have not had dealings with the city dwellers – that was my father's job. I am just a young woman who has been given a special and unusual box she doesn't understand, with words written on it that seem to mean very little. I don't know what it is I am supposed to do. You need to tell me what I have to do. You have always been here for me . . . Please!’

‘The more you listen to me, the more you give yourself room for doubt,’ said her friend. ‘Believe in yourself and act as you feel you should. There is no wrong decision other than not making one. Now, go and fulfil your destiny.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

12

Tengis had been back in Baatarulaan for only a short while but he had already noticed that the city had begun to change more than it had in the previous three hundred years. Tengis was shocked by just how fickle his countrymen were. When he had left a few days previously they had all been ardent supporters of Khadism. They had been people for whom laughter was more than just a way of life. But now it appeared that he had not been alone in wanting regime change. His Ten Recommendations had been an instant success.

People adored new proclamations of this sort. When the proclamations were made in the presence of the lumps of lovely shining sunny metal, people dropped to their knees and venerated them and a whole new faith was born. Tengis truly did believe he was doing the right thing; that his actions were exactly what Chinggis would have done, only with less blood-letting and womanising, which he personally felt was a good thing. It didn't matter to him whether people were in love with the Recommendations or the shiny stuff. What mattered was that they were helping him facilitate positive change. Change was always good in Tengis's mind.

Tengis had adopted a solitary and solemn persona. He decided he could be more effectual if he worked alone, trusted nobody and delegated nothing of importance. He did need help in some areas though. The first people he had visited were the Fun Brigade. The voice in his head had suggested that overly
angry militia types would definitely be more impressed by the shimmering metal than by the Ten Recommendations. The voice had been correct.

Despite Jester Oldortar having been excited by the prospect of educating the reprobate Tengis after his schoolroom heresy, he was even more delighted to hold and eventually own a small fragment of the sunny shimmering stuff. Tengis was surprised by the extent to which the material clawed control of the hard-man cum jester's mind, and even more so by his exceptional willingness to undertake Tengis's bidding whatever that might be. So keen was Jester Oldortar to help Tengis that within hours of having arrested Tengis he was slapping him on the back, telling him how fond he had always been of him and asking him if there was anyone special whom he would like earmarked for future education by the Fun Brigade or whether he had ever had someone in mind for a lengthy holiday in the House of Fun.

It was all a little bewildering for Tengis but he was enjoying himself thoroughly. He had always been treated as an Outsider. The shimmering sunny substance was winning him much acclaim and even more friends. By the time Tengis left Clown Oldortar, the leader of the Fun Brigade had agreed that he would undertake any bidding that Tengis wished. He had also readily agreed to drop the word ‘jester’ from his name, so that Tengis's endeavours could not be tainted by Khadism. The two men set in motion a feasibility study of the city's public services, most of which related to discipline in some way or another. They agreed they would meet again soon to decide what to do. The shining metal was more powerful than Tengis could understand; nonetheless he was a little upset that it wasn't his Ten Recommendations that were inciting such excitement.

To Tengis's credit, when he had written the Ten
Recommendations he had been suitably vague in his wording. He was smart enough to know that, if he committed
everything
to slate, then it might be difficult to change things in the future; and change was almost always necessary. However, his vagueness was also down to the fact that Tengis had not really thought things through properly on his two-day trek; he had just known that he would need to retain a flexible approach as he sought to wrestle control from the Khadists he despised so much.

BOOK: The Tiger-Headed Horseman
9.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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