"Do not fall, fearful one," he said. A small man, Chen Yi ascended quickly, leaving Temuge climbing alone in the dark. His arms were burning and sweat poured into his eyes, but he forced himself to walk up the rough stone, hanging out over the men below. There was no light near the top and he almost let go in shock when strong hands grabbed him and dragged him onto the crest.
Temuge lay panting, ignored by the others and desperately relieved. His heart pounded wildly as they stood and looked back into the city. Below, the baskets of rubble had been cut free and they pulled the ropes up quickly, dropping them over the other side.
The wall was ten feet wide at the crest and the rope stretched over it. Lian swore under his breath as he saw the ropes would not reach right to the ground outside the city.
"We will have to jump the last part and hope no one breaks a leg," he said.
The last rope had to be pulled up. It bumped its way to the top with the bundle of Lian's tools, Khasar's bow, and three plain swords all wrapped together. Lian lowered it down the outside of the wall and paused, waiting for Chen Yi to give the order.
"Go now," Chen Yi said. "You will have to walk unless you can find a place to buy mules."
"I am not riding a mule," Khasar said immediately. "Are there no ponies worth stealing in this land?"
"It is too much risk. Your people lie to the north, unless you intend to return by way of the Xi Xia. It is not more than a few hundred li from here, but there will be garrisons of Imperial soldiers on every road and pass. You would do better to head west past the mountains, traveling only by night."
"We'll see," Khasar said. "Goodbye, little thief. I will not forget how you have helped us." He crouched on the far edge, then slid over to hang on his elbows before reaching for the dangling rope. Ho Sa followed with merely a nod to Chen Yi, and Temuge too would have gone without a word if the little man hadn't laid a palm on his shoulder.
"Your khan has what he wanted. I will hold him to promises made in his name."
Temuge nodded briskly. He did not care whether Genghis torched Baotou to the ground. "Of course," he said. "We are an honorable people."
Chen Yi watched as he climbed down, as ungainly and feeble as before. When the leader of the Blue Tong was alone on the wall, he sighed. He did not trust Temuge, with his shifting eyes and visible cowardice. In Khasar he had sensed a fellow spirit; a ruthless man, but one he hoped would share his sense of honor and debt. He shrugged as he turned back to the city. He could not be certain. He did not enjoy the thrill of gambling and had never understood it in those who did. "The tiles are flying," he murmured. "Who knows where they will fall?"
The four men were dusty and footsore by the tenth day. Unused to walking, Khasar had developed a limp and his mood was surly as they trudged on. Once out of reach of Chen Yi, Lian too had asked only a few questions before settling into a grim silence. He walked with his tools over his shoulder, and though he shared the hares Khasar killed with his bow, he made no attempt to join in the conversations as the others planned their route. A biting wind made them walk with one hand on their robes, bunching the cloth tight.
Khasar had wanted to take the shortest trails north. Temuge had argued and been ignored, but Ho Sa had swayed him with descriptions of the Chin forts and the wall that guarded the empire from invaders. Though it was broken, there were still guards enough to pose a danger to four men alone. The only safe path was to head west along the banks of the Yellow River until they reached the mountains that straddled the Xi Xia kingdom and the Gobi desert.
At the end of the tenth day, Khasar had insisted on entering a Chin village to look for ponies. He and his brother still carried a small fortune in silver and gold-enough to terrify peasants who would not have seen anything like that level of wealth. Even finding a merchant willing to change a few silvers into bronze was difficult. They left empty-handed and set off again as night fell, unwilling to remain in one place for long.
As the moon rose, the four weary men were deep in pine woods, making slow time on animal paths and trying to keep sight of the stars to guide them. For the first time in his life, Temuge had become aware of his own smell of sweat and dirt and wished for another opportunity to bathe in the Chin style. He looked back on his first experience of a city with nostalgia, remembering the cleanliness of Chen Yi's house. He cared nothing for the beggars, or the mass of people like maggots in flyblown meat. He was the son and brother of a khan and would never fall to such a low estate. To find that wealthy men could live as he had seen was a revelation, and he asked questions of Lian as they walked in the darkness. The mason seemed surprised that Temuge should know so little of city life, hardly understanding how each new fact was like water to a dry soul. He told Temuge of apprenticeship and universities, where great thinkers came to exchange ideas and argue without bloodshed. As a mason, he spoke of sewers being laid even in the poorest sections of the city, though corruption had stalled the works for more than a dozen years. Temuge drank it all in, and as he walked he dreamed of strolling with learned men in sunlit courtyards, discussing great issues with his hands clasped behind his back. Then he would stumble on a hidden root and Khasar would laugh at him, shattering the images.
It was Khasar who stopped on the trail without warning, letting Ho Sa thump into his back. The Xi Xia soldier was too much of an old hand to break the silence. Lian stopped in confusion and Temuge raised his head from private thoughts, his breath catching in his throat. Surely they had not been tracked? They had seen a guard post on a road two days behind, giving it a wide berth. Could the word have gone out to find the fugitives? Temuge felt a stab of despair, suddenly certain that Chen Yi had given them up in exchange for his life. It was what Temuge would have done and as panic overwhelmed him in the darkness, he saw enemies in every shadow.
"What is it?" Temuge hissed to his brother's back.
Khasar turned his head this way and that, searching for sound. "I heard voices. The wind has changed now, but they were there."
"We should head south for a few miles to lose them," Ho Sa whispered. "If they are looking for us, we can use the woods to lay up for a day."
"Soldiers don't camp in woods," Khasar said. "It's too easy to creep up on a man. We'll go ahead, but slowly. Have your weapons ready."
Lian removed a long-handled hammer from his roll of tools, swinging the head onto his other shoulder.
Temuge stared at Khasar in growing anger. "What do we care who else is in these woods?" he demanded. "Ho Sa is right, we should go around them."
"If they have horses, it's worth the risk. I think it's going to snow and I'm tired of walking," Khasar replied. Without another word, he padded stealthily on, forcing them to follow. Temuge cursed him in silence. Men like Khasar would not walk the avenues in the city of his imagination. They would guard the walls perhaps, while better men were given the honor and dignity they deserved.
As they walked along the narrow track, the glow of a fire could be seen through the trees and they all heard the noises Khasar's sharp ears had picked out. Laughter came clearly on the night air and Khasar beamed when he heard the whinny of a mare.
The four men crept slowly toward the light, the noise of their own movement hidden by shouts and cheering. When they were close enough, Khasar lay down on his stomach and peered into a tiny clearing where ancient roots overlaid each other in twisted patterns.
A mule was there, yanking at the leather strap that bound it to a branch. To Khasar's pleasure, three shaggy ponies were tethered on the edge of the clearing. They were small and thin, standing with their heads drooping. Khasar's gaze hardened at seeing the white lines of scars on their haunches, and he unstrapped his bow, laying arrows on the briars.
There were four men around the fire, three of them taunting the fourth. He was a small figure in a robe of dark red. His shaven head shone with sweat in the firelight. The others wore no armor, but they carried knives in their belts and one had a short bow leaning against a tree. Their faces were cruel as they con
tinued their sport, darting in and out again to strike the small man. His features were bruised and swollen, but one of the men bled freely from his nose and did not join in the laughter with the others.
As Khasar watched, the one with the bloody nose hit out with a stick, making the small man stagger. The thump of the blow could be heard across the clearing, and Khasar grinned wolfishly as he strung his bow by feel. He wormed his way back to Ho Sa away from the light, his voice the barest whisper.
"We need their horses. They don't look like soldiers and I can take two with the bow if you rush the last. There is another young one with a head like an egg. He's still fighting, but he hasn't a chance against all three."
"He may be a monk," Ho Sa said. "They are hard men, for all they spend their time begging and in prayer. Do not underestimate him."
Khasar raised his eyes, amused. "I spent my childhood learning weapons from dawn till dusk. I've yet to see one of your people who could stand against me."
Ho Sa frowned, shaking his head. "If he is a monk, he will be trying not to kill his attackers. I have seen them show their skills to my king."
Khasar snorted softly. "You are a strange people. Soldiers who cannot fight and holy men who can. Tell Lian to get his hammer ready to crack a head when I shoot."
Khasar inched forward once more, coming slowly up to a kneeling position. To his surprise, he saw the man with the bloody nose was lying on the ground, writhing in agony. The other two had fallen into grim silence. The young monk stood straight despite the bruises he had taken, and Khasar heard him speak calmly to his tormentors. One of them sneered, tossing aside his stick and pulling a wicked-looking dagger from his belt.
Khasar bent his bow, and as it creaked, the monk looked through the fire at him, suddenly light on his feet as if ready to leap away. The others hadn't noticed and one of them rushed the monk, the dagger held to punch into his chest.
Khasar let out a breath and loosed an arrow that took the bandit in the armpit, hammering him off his feet. The other swung round as Lian and Ho Sa shouted, leaping up. As they moved, the monk stepped very close to the remaining man and landed a blow to his head that knocked him into the fire. Ho Sa and Lian came roaring in then, but the monk ignored them, dragging his attacker out of the flames and patting him down where his hair had begun to smoke. The man was limp, but the weight did not seem to trouble the monk at all.
When that was done, he stood to face the newcomers, nodding to them. The one with the bloody nose now moaned in fear as well as pain. Khasar nocked another arrow as he walked, Temuge following at his heels.
The monk saw what Khasar intended and darted forward, so that Khasar's view of the writhing figure was blocked. The bald skull made him look little older than a boy.
"Step aside," Khasar told him.
The words were received blankly, but the monk did not move and only folded his arms to stare down the arrow.
"Tell him to step away, Ho Sa," Khasar said, gritting his teeth against the strain of holding the drawn bow. "Tell him we need his mule, but otherwise he can go on his way once I've killed this one."
Ho Sa spoke and Khasar saw the monk's face light up as he heard words he recognized. A blistering exchange followed, and when it showed no sign of ceasing, Khasar swore in the Chin language and eased off the strain.
"He says he did not need us and the man's life is not ours to take," Ho Sa said at last. "He also said he will not give up the mule, as it is not his, but only loaned to him."
"Does he not see the bow I am holding?" Khasar demanded, jerking it in the monk's direction.
"He would not care if you had a dozen pointed at him. He is a holy man and without fear."
"A holy boy, with a mule for Temuge," Khasar replied. "Unless you want to ride double with my brother?"
"I do not mind," Ho Sa said immediately. He spoke to the monk, bowing three times in the course of the conversation. The boy nodded sharply at the end, glancing at Khasar.
"He says you may take the ponies," Ho Sa said. "He will remain here to tend the wounded men."
Khasar shook his head, unable to understand. "Did he thank me for rescuing him?"
Ho Sa looked blank. "He did not need rescuing."
Khasar frowned at the monk, who stared calmly back.
"Genghis would love this one," Khasar said suddenly. "Ask him if he wants to come with us."
Ho Sa spoke again and the boy shook his head, his eyes never leaving Khasar.
"He says the work of the Buddha may take him onto strange roads, but his place is amongst the poor."
Khasar snorted. "The poor are everywhere. Ask him how he knows this Buddha didn't want us to find him here."
Ho Sa nodded, and as he talked, the monk looked increasingly interested.
"He asks if the Buddha is known among your people," Ho Sa said.
Khasar grinned. "Tell him we believe in a sky father above and an earth mother below. The rest is struggle and pain before death." He chuckled as Ho Sa blinked at hearing the philosophy.
"Is that all you believe?" Ho Sa asked.
Khasar glanced at his brother. "Some of the foolish ones believe in spirits as well, but most of us believe in a good horse and a strong right arm. We do not know this Buddha."
When Ho Sa relayed the speech, the young monk bowed and strode to where his mule was tethered. Khasar and Temuge watched as he leaped into the saddle, causing the animal to snort and kick.
"That is an ugly beast," Khasar said. "Is the boy coming with us?"
Ho Sa still looked surprised as he nodded. "He is. He says that no man can guess his path, but perhaps you are right that you were guided to him."
"All right," Khasar said. "But tell him that I will not let my enemies live, that he must not interfere with me again. Tell him if he does, I will cut his little bald head right off."
When the monk heard the words, he laughed aloud, slapping his thigh as he sat astride the mule.
Khasar frowned at him. "I am Khasar of the Wolves, monk," he said, pointing to himself. "What is your name?"
"Yao Shu!" he replied, thumping a fist twice into his own chest like a salute. The action seemed to amuse the monk and he chuckled until he had to wipe his eyes. Khasar stared at him. "Mount up, Ho Sa," he said at last. "The brown mare is mine. At least the walking is over."
It did not take long for them to mount. Ho Sa and Temuge rode together once the saddle had been unstrapped and thrown down. The surviving bandits had grown quiet amidst the talk, aware that their lives hung in the balance. They watched the strangers go, only sitting up to curse when they were sure they were alone.
The pass that separated the Xi Xia kingdom from the southern edge of the desert was empty as the party of five men reached it. In the Khenti mountains a thousand miles north, the winter would be deepening, gripping the land for many months to come. Even at the pass, a freezing gale roared through as if in pleasure at its release. There was no fort to make the pass a place of stillness any longer. Instead, the wind always blew and the air was full of sand and grit.
Khasar and Temuge dismounted as they reached the pass, remembering the first bloody efforts to take the fort that had stood there. Genghis had been efficient in having it dismantled. A few large blocks lay where they had fallen in the sand, but every other stone had been dragged away. Only a few square holes in the cliffs showed where timbers and braces had been anchored, but otherwise it was as if the fort had never existed. There was no barrier to the tribes coming south any longer, and that fact alone gave Khasar a feeling of pride.
He strolled with Temuge along the pass, looking up at the high cliffs on either side. The monk and the mason watched them without understanding, neither having known the place when it boasted a fort of black stone and the Xi Xia kingdom ruled in splendid isolation.
Ho Sa looked south, turning his pony to gaze over the bare fields of his home. Dark spots in the distance showed where the rotten crops had been burned and the ashes returned to the land. There would be starvatio
n in the villages, he was certain, perhaps even in Yinchuan. He shook his head at the thought.
He had been away for almost four months and it would be good to see his sons and his wife once again. He wondered how the army had fared after the crushing defeats at the hands of the great khan. The tribes had shattered an ancient peace and he winced as he recalled the destruction. He had lost friends and colleagues in those months, and the bitterness was never far from the surface. The final humiliation had been to see a royal daughter handed over to the barbarians. Ho Sa shuddered at the thought of such a woman being forced to live in their stinking tents among sheep and goats.
As Ho Sa stared into the valley, he realized with some surprise that he would miss Khasar's company. For all the man's crudity and easy violence, Ho Sa could look back on the journey with some pride. No one else from the Xi Xia could have stolen into a Chin city and returned alive with a master mason. It was true that Khasar had almost got him killed in one village where he had drunk too much rice wine. Ho Sa rubbed a scab on his side where a soldier had scraped a knife along his ribs. The man had not even been posted there and was visiting his family. Khasar could not recall the fight when he sobered up and seemed to think nothing of it. He was in some ways the most irritating man Ho Sa had ever known, but his reckless optimism had affected the Xi Xia soldier and he wondered uneasily if he would be able to return to the rigid discipline of the king's army. The annual tribute would have to be carried across the desert and Ho Sa decided then that he would volunteer to lead the guards on that trip, just to see the land that could give birth to the tribes.
Khasar walked back to his companions. He felt elation at the thought of seeing home again and bringing their quarry back to Genghis. He grinned at the others in turn, showing his pleasure. To a man, they were dust covered and filthy, with dirt lining every crease of their faces. Yao Shu had begun to learn the speech of the tribes from Ho Sa. Lian had no ear for language, but he too had picked up a few useful words. They nodded back to Khasar uncertainly, unsure of the reason for his good mood.
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