Genghis Lords of the Bow

by Conn Iggulden

  “The peasants don't seem warlike at all and these canals are perfect for watering our horses,” he went on, glancing at his older brother.

  Genghis sat on a pile of saddles next to his ger, resting his chin on his hands. The mood of the tribes was cheerful around the two men, and he saw a group of boys setting wands of birch into the ground. He raised his head in interest as he saw his two eldest sons were part of the chattering gang, pushing and shoving each other as they argued over how best to set the sticks. Jochi and Chagatai were dangerous company for the boys of the tribes, often leading them into trouble and scuffles that resulted in their being slapped apart by the women of the gers.

  Genghis sighed, running his tongue over his lower lip as he thought. “We're like a bear with his paw in honey, Kachiun, but they will rouse themselves. Barchuk tells me the Xi Xia merchants boasted of a huge standing army. We have not met them yet.”

  Kachiun shrugged, unworried at the prospect. “Perhaps. There is still their great city. They may be hiding behind the walls there. We could starve them out, or break the walls down around their ears.”

  Genghis frowned at his brother. “It will not be so easy, Kachiun. I expect rashness from Khasar. I keep you close to be the voice of caution and sense when the warriors get too full of themselves. We have not fought a single battle in this realm, and I do not want the men to be fat and slow when it comes. Get them back on the training field and burn the laziness out of them. You too.”

  Kachiun flushed at the rebuke. “Your will, my brother,” he said, bowing his head. He saw Genghis was watching his sons as they mounted their shaggy ponies. It was a game of skill learned from the Olkhun'ut, and Genghis was distracted as Jochi and Chagatai readied themselves to gallop past the row of wands in the soil.

  Jochi turned his pony faster and raced along the line with his child's bow fully bent. Genghis and Kachiun watched as he loosed his arrow at full speed, sending the head slicing through the slender stick. It was a good strike, and in the same instant, Jochi reached down with his left hand and snatched the falling piece of wood, raising it triumphantly as he turned back to his companions. They cheered him, though Chagatai merely snorted before beginning his own run.

  “Your son will be a fine warrior,” Kachiun murmured. Genghis winced at the words and Kachiun did not look at him, knowing the expression he would see.

  “While they can retreat behind walls five times higher than a man,” Genghis said stubbornly, “they can laugh at us riding around on the plains. What does their king care for a few hundred villages? We have barely stung him while this Yinchuan city sits safe and he resides in it.”

  Kachiun did not respond as Chagatai rode the line. His arrow cut the wand, but his flailing hand failed to snatch it before it fell. Jochi laughed at his brother and Kachiun saw Chagatai's face darken in anger. They knew their father was watching, of course.

  At his back, Genghis made his decision, rising to his feet.

  “Get the men sober and ready to march. I will see this city of stone that so impressed the scouts. Somehow or other there must be a way in.” He did not show his brother the worries that plagued him. He had never seen a city girdled in high walls as his scouts described. He hoped that the sight of it would bring some insight into how he could enter without seeing his army dash itself uselessly against the stone.

  As Kachiun left to relay the orders, he saw Chagatai had said something to his older brother. Jochi leaped from his pony as he passed, sending them both thumping into the ground in a flurry of elbows and bare feet. Kachiun grinned as he passed them, remembering his own childhood.

  The land they had found beyond the mountains was fertile and rich. Perhaps they would have to fight to keep it, but he could not imagine a force capable of defeating the army they had brought a thousand miles from their home. As a boy, he had once levered a huge rock free on a hillside and seen the way it gathered speed. At first it was slow, but after only a little time, it was unstoppable.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Scarlet was the Xi Xia color for war. The king's soldiers wore armor lacquered in vivid red, and the room where Rai Chiang met his general was unadorned except for polished walls of the same shade. Only a single table spoiled the echoing emptiness, and both men stood to gaze down at maps of the region, held with lead weights. The original secession from the Chin had been planned within those red walls; it was a place to save and win a kingdom, rich with its own history. General Giam's lacquered armor was such a perfect match for the room that he almost vanished against the walls. Rai Chiang himself wore a tunic of gold over black silk trousers.

  The general was white-haired, a man of dignity. He could feel the history of the Xi Xia hanging heavy in the air of that ancient room, as heavy as the responsibility he would bear himself.

  He placed another marker of ivory on the lines of dark blue ink.

  “Their camp is here, Majesty, not far from where they entered the kingdom. They send their warriors out to raid a hundred li in every direction.”

  “A man cannot ride further in a day, so they must make other camps for the night,” Rai Chiang murmured. “Perhaps we can attack them there.”

  His general shook his head slightly, unwilling to openly contradict his king. “They do not rest, Majesty, or stop for food. We have scouts who say they ride that far and then back from dawn to sunset. When they take prisoners, they are slower, driving them before them. They have no infantry and carry supplies with them from the main camp.”

  Rai Chiang frowned delicately, knowing that would be enough criticism to make the general sweat in his presence.

  “Their camp is not important, General. The army must engage and break these riders who have caused so much destruction. I have a report of a pile of dead peasants as high as a mountain. Who will gather the crops? The city could starve even if these invaders left us today!”

  General Giam made his face a mask rather than risk further anger. “Our army will need time to form and prepare the ground. With the royal guard to lead them, I can have the fields sown with spikes that will destroy any charge. If the discipline is good, we will crush them.”

  “I would have preferred to have Chin soldiers with my own militia,” Rai Chiang said as if to himself.

  The general cleared his throat, knowing it was a sensitive subject. “All the more need for your own guards, Majesty. The militia are little better than peasants with weapons. They cannot stand on their own.”

  Rai Chiang turned his pale eyes on his general. “My father had forty thousand trained soldiers to man the walls of Yinchuan. As a child, I watched the red ranks parade through the city on his birthday and there seemed no end to them.” He grimaced irritably. “I have listened to fools and counted the cost of so many over the dangers we could face. There are barely twenty thousand in my own guard and you would have me send them out? Who then would defend the city? Who would form the teams for the great bows and hold the walls? Do you think the peasants and merchants will be of any use to us once my guard have gone out? There will be food riots and fires. Plan to win without them, General. There is no other way.”

  General Giam had been born to one of the king's uncles, and promotion had come easily. Yet he had courage enough to face Rai Chiang's disapproval.

  “If you give me ten thousand of your guard, they will steady the others. They will be a core the enemy cannot break.”

  “Even ten thousand is too many,” Rai Chiang snapped.

  General Giam swallowed.

  “Without cavalry, I cannot win, my lord. With even five thousand guards and three thousand of those on heavy horse, I would have a chance. If you cannot give me that, you should execute me now.”

  Rai Chiang raised his eyes from the map and found General Giam's gaze steady. He smiled, amused at the bead of sweat that was making its way down the man's cheek.

  “Very well. It is a balance between giving you the best we have and still keeping enough to defend the city. Take a thousand cross-bowmen, two of cavalry,
and two more of heavy pikes. They will be the core that leads the others against the enemy.”

  General Giam closed his eyes in silent thanks for an instant. Rai Chiang did not notice as he turned back to the map.

  “You may empty the stores of armor. The militia may not be my red guards, but perhaps looking like them will give them courage. It will relieve the boredom of hanging profiteers and whitewashing the barracks, I have no doubt. Do not fail me in this, General.”

  “I will not, Your Majesty.”

  Genghis rode at the head of his army, a vast line of horsemen that stretched across the plain of the Xi Xia. As they came to canals, the line would bulge as men raced each other over the drop, laughing and calling to anyone who fell into the dark water and had to ride hard to catch up.

  The city of Yinchuan had been a smear on the horizon for hours before Genghis gave the order to halt. Horns sounded up and down the line and the host came to a stop, with echoing orders passing down to alert men on the wings. This was hostile country and they would not be taken by surprise.

  The city loomed in the distance. Even miles away, it seemed a massive construction, intimidating in its sheer size. Genghis squinted into the haze of the afternoon sun. The stone the builders had used was a dark gray, and he could see columns that could have been towers inside the walls. He could not guess their purpose and strove not to show his awe in front of the men.

  He looked around him, seeing that his people could not be ambushed on such a flat piece of ground. The crops could have hidden crawling soldiers, but his scouts would sight them long before they were close. It was as safe as anywhere could be to set up camp, and he made the decision, dismounting as he gave his orders.

  Behind him the tribes scurried in the routines they knew. Gers were lashed together and raised by individual families long used to the work. A village, a town, a city of their own sprang out of the carts and herds of bleating animals. It was not long before Genghis's own cart came up and the smell of frying mutton filled the air.

  Arslan walked along the line with his son Jelme. Under their eyes, the warriors of all the tribes stood tall and kept their chatter to a minimum. Genghis approved and he was ready with a smile as they reached him.

  “I have never seen such a flat land,” Arslan said. “There is nowhere to hold, nowhere to retreat to if we are overwhelmed. We are too exposed here.”

  Jelme raised his eyes at the words, but did not speak. Arslan was twice the age of the other generals and he led cautiously and with intelligence. He would never be a firebrand amongst the tribes, though his skill was respected, and his temper feared.

  “We will not be turned, Arslan. Not from here,” Genghis replied, clapping him on the shoulder. “We will make them come out from that city, or if they will not, perhaps I will just build a ramp of earth to the top of their walls and ride in. That would be a thing to see, would it not?”

  Arslan's smile was tight. He had been one of those who had ridden closer to Yinchuan, close enough for them to waste arrows on him.

  “It is like a mountain, lord. You will see when you ride close to the walls. Each corner has a tower and the walls are set with slits where archers poke their faces through to watch you pass. It would be hard to hit them, while they have an easy shot against us.”

  Genghis lost some of his good humor. “I will see it first before I decide. If it will not fall to us, I will starve them out.”

  Jelme nodded at the idea. He had ridden with his father close enough to feel the shadow of the city on his back. For a man used to the open steppes, he found himself irritated at the thought of such an ant hill of men. The very idea offended him.

  “The canals pass into the city, lord,” Jelme said, “through tunnels barred with iron. I am told they wash away the dung of so many people and animals. There may be a weakness there.”

  Genghis brightened. He had ridden all day and he was weary. There would be time to plan the assault tomorrow when he had eaten and rested.

  “We will find a way,” he promised.

  CHAPTER 7

  WITH NO SIGN OF OPPOSITION, the younger warriors under Genghis spent their days riding as close as they dared to the city, testing their courage. The bravest of them galloped under the shadow of the walls as arrows whipped overhead. Their whooping cries echoed over the fields in challenge, yet only one Xi Xia archer managed a clean strike in three days. Even then, the tribesman recovered his seat and rode clear, pulling the arrow out of his armor and throwing it contemptuously to the ground.

  Genghis too rode close, with his generals and officers. What he saw brought him no inspiration. Even the canals into the city were protected by iron bars as thick as a man's forearm, set deep into stone. He thought they might still batter their way in, though the thought of crawling down dank tunnels was unpleasant to a man of the plains.

  As night fell, his brothers and generals gathered in the great ger to eat and discuss the problem. Genghis's mood had grown dark once more, but Arslan had known him from the beginning of his rise and did not fear to speak bluntly.

  “With the sort of wooden shield we used against the fort, we could protect men long enough to hammer through the canal openings,” Arslan said, chewing. “Though I do not like the look of those constructions on the walls. I would not have believed a bow could be so large. If they're real, they must fire arrows as long as a man. Who knows how much damage they can do?”

  “We cannot stay out here forever, while they send messages to their allies,” Kachiun murmured, “and we cannot pass by and leave their army free to strike at our back. We must enter the city, or return to the desert and give up everything we have won.”

  Genghis glanced at his younger brother, his expression sour. “That will not happen,” he said with more confidence than he felt. “We have their crops. How long can a city last before the people are eating each other? Time is on our side.”

  “We are not hurting them yet, I think,” Kachiun replied. “They have the canals to bring water, and for all we know, the city is stuffed with grain and salted meat.” He saw Genghis frown at the image, but continued. “We could be here for years, waiting, and who knows how many armies are marching to support them? By the time they are starving, we could be facing the Chin themselves and be caught between them.”

  “Then give me an answer!” Genghis snapped. “The Uighur scholars tell me that every city in Chin lands is like this one, or even larger, if you can imagine it. If they have been built by men, they can be destroyed by men, I am certain of it. Tell me how.”

  “We could poison the water in the canals,” Khasar said, reaching for another piece of meat with his knife. He speared it in sudden silence and looked round at the others. “What? This is not our land.”

  “That is an evil thing to say,” Kachiun chided his brother, speaking for all of them. “What would we drink ourselves, then?”

  Khasar shrugged. “We would drink clean water from further up.”

  Genghis listened, considering. “We need to sting them into coming out,” he said. “I will not see clean water poisoned, but we can break the canals and let the city go thirsty. Let them see the work of generations being destroyed and perhaps they will meet us on the plain.”

  “I will see it done,” Jelme said.

  Genghis nodded to him. “And you, Khasar. You will send a hundred men to break through the bars where the canals enter the city.”

  “Protecting them will mean more carts taken apart. The families will not like that at all,” Khasar said.

  Genghis snorted. “I will build more when we are in that cursed city. They will thank us then.”

  All the men in the ger heard galloping hoofbeats coming closer. Genghis paused with a piece of greasy mutton in his fingers. He looked up as a clatter sounded on the steps outside and the door to the ger opened.

  “They are coming out, lord.”

  “In the darkness?” Genghis said incredulously.

  “There is no moon, but I was close enough to
hear them, lord. They chattered like birds and made more noise than children.”

  Genghis tossed the meat down into the platter in the center of the ger. “Return to your men, my brothers. Make them ready.” His gaze flickered around the ger to Arslan and Jelme, the father and son sitting together.

  “Arslan, you will keep five thousand to protect the families. The rest of us will ride with me.” He grinned at the prospect and they responded.

  “Not years, Kachiun. Not one more day. Get the fastest scouts riding. I want to know what they are doing as soon as dawn comes. I will have orders for you then.”

  So far south, the autumn was still hot, the uncut crops drooping under their own weight as they began to rot in the fields. The Mongol scouts shouted challenges to the red army that had marched from the safety of Yinchuan, while others rode back to Genghis with details. They entered the great ger in groups of three, passing on what they had learned.

  Genghis strode back and forth, listening to each man as he described the scene.

  “I do not like this business with the baskets,” he said to Kachiun. “What could they be sowing on this ground?” He had heard of hundreds of men walking together in patterns before the host from Yinchuan. Each had carried a basket on his shoulders while a man behind him reached into it, over and over, casting his arms wide.

  The khan of the Uighurs had been summoned to explain the mystery. Barchuk had questioned the scouts closely, demanding every scrap of information they could recall.

  “It could be something to slow our horses, lord,” he said at last. “Sharp stones, perhaps, or iron. They have sown a wide band of these seeds outside the army and they show no sign of crossing it. If they are intent on drawing us in, perhaps they expect the charge to founder.”

  Genghis clapped him on the shoulder. “Whatever it is, I will not let them choose the ground,” he said. “You will have your scrolls yet, Barchuk.” He looked around him at the bright faces of his most trusted men. None of them could truly know the enemy they faced. The slaughter at the fort to enter Xi Xia lands bore little relation to the fighting formations of the king's own city. He could feel his heart beating quickly at the thought of finally standing against his people's enemies. Surely they would not fail, after so long in preparation? Kokchu said the stars themselves proclaimed a new destiny for his people. With the shaman attending him, Genghis had sacrificed a white goat to the sky father, using the name in the most ancient shaman's tongue. Tängri would not refuse them. They had been weak for too long, made so by the Chin in their cities of gold. Now they were strong and he would see the cities fall.