Devil's Horseman

by Tony Roberts

  But suddenly the governor caught him out. “Tell me, Old Young One, who do you think should be Khan once Ogedei passes onto the heavens?”

  There was silence. The chief advisor fixed him with a piercing look; Kaidur looked very wary while Sorghe smiled slightly and rested her head in one of her hands, her elbow on the table top. Her slanted almond eyes seemed to sparkle. It was as if she was daring him to say something that would piss her husband off. “As someone who rode with the great Genghis, I know how he thought and what he wanted above all else for the Mongol tribes.”

  “Which is?” the governor cocked his head to one side.

  “Strong leadership, the tribes united, and a common goal to be pursued by all.”

  “Then surely that means Kuyuk will be your choice!” the governor declared, sitting up straight. The chief advisor smiled and nodded but Kaidur scowled and Sorghe looked as if someone had broken wind next to her.

  “I didn’t say that and I don’t know if he’s the right choice,” Casca said calmly. “I’d need to see each potential candidate before making my decision. I would then recommend the Kurultai to vote for whom I believe would serve a united Mongol Empire the better.”

  The governor’s mouth turned down. “But you must see that Kuyuk is the obvious choice!”

  “I cannot say, governor. If his rival….” he looked at Kaidur for a name.

  “Mongke.”

  “Mongke. If Mongke proves to me he’s a better choice then I’ll recommend him.”

  “You cannot!” the governor stood up, furious.

  “I can and I will, and there’s nothing you can do about it, Governor.” Casca glared at the red-faced Mongol. “You would appear to be concerned that I won’t find Kuyuk my preference. Any reason why that would be?”

  The governor made a disgusted noise and threw down his silken napkin and stormed off. The chief advisor got up hastily, knocking over his chair, and ran after him. The three remaining diners sat in silence for a moment. “Guess I pissed him off,” Casca said in a far from regretful tone.

  “You have made an enemy there, Casca-Badahur,” Kaidur said heavily. “Your stay in Samarkand will be short, I fear.”

  Casca shrugged. “Suits me. It would seem I have to visit the two rivals and see for myself who I think would be the better leader. Kuyuk, son of Ogedei, or Mongke. Tell me, is Mongke the son of Tolui, Genghis’ youngest son?”

  Kaidur nodded solemnly.

  Casca grunted. He seemed to remember the name of Mongke. Tolui had become a father just before Casca had left the Mongols seventeen years previously. It would be interesting to see how the squalling brat he’d seen had grown up. Kaidur stood up and bowed to Sorghe and Casca. “If you will excuse me, I must go about my duties before I sleep. There is much for me to do.”

  Sorghe acknowledged him with a languid wave of her hand. Casca faced her across the table and waited. Sorghe stood up and slowly walked round to his side. “You may go,” she said to the musicians in a slightly raised voice. Casca remained where he was, listening to the band departing and passing through the only doorway into the palace. Now, apart from two guards stood by the doorway, well out of sight, the two were alone.

  “The Old Young One,” Sorghe said slowly, running a hand along his arm. “I heard of you when I was a girl. I thought you to be mere legend.”

  “No legend, Sorghe, I’m real enough.”

  “A man of whom there is to be no written record, so the wise men said to me years ago. In time you will be forgotten, except perhaps in tall tales to be told by camp fires at night. A pity. You have strength. My husband is foolish to oppose you, but he is a weak man with ambitions and he does not follow who he should.”

  “Meaning you don’t think Kuyuk should be Khan?”

  Sorghe smiled in the starlight. “You must decide yourself and not listen to the words of a mere governor’s wife. I go where my husband goes, and he goes where Buri commands.”

  “And where is your husband now?”

  “He has gone to a room deep in the palace to vent his anger. You did the right thing in upsetting him; he will be gone for hours.”

  Casca chuckled. “So you and I could be together alone up here, is that it?”

  “Of course. He is a man who craves power, but he is not a powerful man. He works hard at furthering his political ambitions and has little time to be a husband. You, on the other hand, are a powerful man, yet you shy away from power. I have noticed your distaste when power is talked about. You could be the most powerful man in the Empire, yet you do not wish it. You do know, don’t you, that power is an aphrodisiac? You could have women attracted to you wherever you go.”

  “I do already; what do I need of a throne? Only those born to it or those greedy to obtain it will have it, and they find it’s a prison, not a throne. I leave that to those who want it. I’m content enough with what I am.” Casca looked at the woman stood before him. She was trembling slightly and her breath was coming shorter now. She was controlling herself, but only just. He found her desirable; slave girls he could have whenever he wanted because they were slaves and they must obey, but this was a free woman and therefore fornication with her would be much more because she wanted it too.

  Casca pushed his goblet away and slid his chair sideways so he was facing her. Sorghe pulled her robe up to her waist and straddled him, sinking down onto his lap and releasing her robe. Casca ran his hands down her back and she shut her eyes and arched her back, groaning. Her pelvis pushed against his loins and she began to roll her hips, rubbing herself against his groin.

  Damn, this bitch is hot, Casca thought. He kissed her throat and neck, working down her front. Sorghe cried out softly and pulled her robe apart, freeing her breasts. Casca’s lips found her nipples and she shuddered in delight. He felt her slide his trousers down and he helped her, lifting himself briefly. Then her skin was against his and she pulled him into her, hissing in pleasure. Her head was thrown back and she began to slowly ride, rotating her hips, uttering small noises in her passion.

  Casca kept on running his hands up and down her back, realizing it was one of her erogenous areas, and she shuddered and gasped. “oh, ohh,” she said and rolled her head, eyes shut, licking her lips. He held himself back as she reached her climax, and she collapsed in a sweat-soaked heap against him.

  After a moment she pulled herself up and flicked a sweaty strand of hair back from her forehead. “You know how to touch a woman. My husband alas does not!”

  Casca grunted and pushed her off him and stood up, turning her round. “Ma’am, I know how to touch a woman. Now let me have you!” He pushed her face down onto the table, so she had to support herself on her arms, and her robe was yanked up over her waist. Casca kicked her legs apart and gripped her waist. He slid into her from behind and pushed deep into her. Sorghe gasped and looked round at him. “You would ride me like an animal?”

  “Oh yes!” Casca growled and began thrusting in and out. Sorghe mewled and panted, her mouth open. Casca rammed into her harder and harder and this time didn’t hold himself back, spilling into her with a snarl of pleasure.

  Afterwards she leaned back against the table while he sat back in his chair sipping the remnants of his wine. “You are a man who I could be happy with.”

  “No you wouldn’t,” Casca shook his head. “You are used to this lifestyle. How would you cope with the rigors of army life on campaign? And when I leave as I will, I will go somewhere else where I may not be looked upon as one of the ruling elite. My life is up and down. For now, it is up. Other peoples may not look upon me as favorably.” He grimaced briefly. The Delhi Sultanate wouldn’t, that was for sure.

  Sorghe pursed her lips. “You may be right, but I tire of him.”

  Casca grunted. “So why marry him?”

  She tossed her head. “To get away from my dull life on the steppes. I was one of five daughters of a goatherd. Luckily for him we were all beautiful and he made lots of money out of matching us to suitable husbands. I
was the last to marry, and I chose him. He was ambitious even in his youth and the son of a local warlord. Back then he had the energy and time for me,” she smiled briefly in remembrance. “But later when he fell in with the family of Ogedei’s son, he became twisted and pursued positions of power for power’s sake.”

  “I’m sorry for you,” Casca said, “but your fate is tied to him, just as my fate is tied to the path I take.”

  “Maybe so,” she conceded, “but I deserve better.”

  “And if Mongke succeeds Ogedei, your husband will fall. What will you do then?”

  “Enjoy his humiliation, and maybe get my husband back. I hope. I know I won’t if Kuyuk wins. My husband will seek greater positions and I, as the dutiful wife, will trot along in his wake.”

  “And remain sexually frustrated,” Casca finished. “Get a manservant to attend your needs. All your needs,” Casca grinned.

  Sorghe laughed, a soft, tinkling sound. “You give me wrong ideas. I shall teach him to take me as an animal. I enjoyed that!” she said. “But now I must go. He will be finished soon in his room. He is not pleasant to be with when he is like that. I shall bathe and prepare myself for bed. Good night, Old Young One. May whatever path you take be a safe one.”

  “Good night Sorghe. And may your path bring you enjoyment.” He raised his goblet to her.

  She smiled, leaned forward, kissed him slowly on the lips, then glided away into the night. Casca finished his drink, belched, and leaned back, hands behind his head. So far his stay in Samarkand had been wonderful.

  He just had a nagging feeling it wasn’t going to last.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kaidur called the following morning, his face gloomy. “The governor has expressly asked for the two of us to attend his chamber. I fear it isn’t good news.”

  Casca shrugged and pushed Ashira out of his bed. “Time to get about your duties, woman.”

  Ashira pulled a face and flounced off, admired by Kaidur. “You have a way with woman, Old Young One,” Kaidur said, his voice tinged with envy.

  “Oh?” Casca paused in the process of washing his face from the bedside jug and bowl.

  “Be careful with the governor’s wife; if he finds out you will be executed.”

  Casca cursed. “Who else knows, for Jupiter’s sake?”

  “Be assured, only the two guards and I. They are loyal to me, not that blustering moron.”

  Casca grunted. “How is the order for my armor progressing?”

  Kaidur smiled. “The maker is proceeding well. I know him to be the best in all Samarkand. You will have a set to be admired by all. And I’ve managed to get it paid for by the governor, although he doesn’t know it yet!”

  Casca burst out laughing. “You sneaky little devil! Very well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be; let’s go see what the blustering moron wants.” Casca had shrugged into last night’s clothing and followed the warrior out of the room, leaving the slave girl to bathe and then clear up the chamber.

  The governor greeted the two men with a predatory smile. Standing behind him was the chief advisor, and two guards stood at their posts by the door. Casca felt a little uneasy; the governor wasn’t someone who smiled unless he was profiting from something. “Ah, The Old Young One! I trust you had a restful night? Please, be seated. I have news for you. Both the rival candidates for the Khanate are together with an army north of here. I have decided it is best for you to go to them to see for yourself which is your choice to succeed Ogedei. I shall present you with a document to allow you freedom of passage throughout the region. But once you cross the Oxus River you will be beyond the limit of Mongol control and you will have to rely on your own abilities to make your way. There may be brigands and outlaws.”

  Casca leaned forward. “How far north of here?”

  “Beyond the Sea of Aral, in the steppes. I am led to believe it is being commanded by Batu, son of Jochi.”

  “Batu? I know him,” Casca said. “But he was a boy when I last saw him. What is the destination of this army?”

  The governor spread his hands. “Alas, I do not know that. I only know that I have been asked to supply some men and equipment, and slaves. I do not think it would befit one of your rank and prestige to travel with them to the army being assembled, so I am willing to loan you a squad of my guard to escort you to Batu Khan.”

  Casca smiled. “That is very generous of you, governor. However, there is no need. I’m sure Kaidur here can provide me with that. Just give me the location I need to get to and I’ll be on my way. It will be good to be part of a Mongol army once more.”

  The governor smiled for a moment. Casca could almost hear the wheels clicking round inside his head. “Ah, Kaidur’s men are needed here. I have a large personal escort and the loan of four or five of them will not be missed for the few weeks it will take for them to escort you there and then make the return journey.”

  “In that case I accept,” Casca said, keeping a smile on his face he didn’t feel like making.

  “Good! Arrangements will be made for you to depart tomorrow!”

  “Can’t be done,” Casca said. “I have a suit of armor being made and it will take some time.”

  The governor frowned. “But arrangements are almost complete!”

  “You may have made them, governor, but since you neglected to inform me until just now, I made other plans. I will remain here until the armor is ready. I’ve been informed it will be another two weeks.”

  “But-but…”

  Casca tapped the top of the desk. “You would have me ride into hostile territory unarmored? What are you thinking of?”

  The governor looked wildly at Casca, then began stammering. “I apologize, Old Young One, I’m just eager for you to get to your destination! I won’t make the same error again, I assure you.”

  “No you won’t.” Casca stood up and leaned over the shrinking man. “From now on if you intend doing anything that involves me, you will have the manners to inform me. I will then tell you whether it will be done or not.”

  He left, waving Kaidur out with him. Outside, they paused. Casca leaned close to the ugly soldier. “Can the armor be ready before two weeks?”

  “Of course,” Kaidur murmured. “You plan to leave before the governor knows?”

  “Yes. That bastard was planning to have me cut up into little pieces. He doesn’t want me to get to the army, that’s for certain. See if you can get hold of the location Batu’s army is being assembled. Pick a trusted group of, say, five men to escort me northwards and have them ready when my armor is completed.”

  “I shall come with you too,” Kaidur said. “I have no wish to remain here. It will be done secretly, have no fear of that, Casca-Badahur.” He left, his slightly bow-legged gait marked with the squeaking of leather, and Casca smiled fondly at the back of the warrior.

  The armor was ready ten days later. Kaidur had a message sent to him and as night fell Casca made his way through the streets to the address along the Street of Jasmine. Kaidur was there with two men, and Casca was quickly shown into the armorer’s shop. A set of lamellar armor rested upon a stand, black and shiny. It looked evil. Casca slowly walked up to it and examined it from all angles. The small rectangles of iron overlapped one another, sewn together with tiny lengths of wire. Arm plates went down as far as elbow length, and the thigh pieces flared out, in order to allow the wearer to ride on horseback unhindered.

  Resting on top of the stand was a plumed helmet, with neck piece and ear flaps. Casca picked this up first and slowly placed it on his head. There was also a nasal guard and the Eternal Mercenary looked left, right, up and down. Vision was good. “Let me try this on,” he said, pointing at the armor.

  The two guards lifted it off the stand and Casca shrugged into it. It was heavy, but that was to be expected. He could carry it without much hindrance. “Excellent. Tell the armorer he’s done a good job here. Now all I need are weapons.”

  Kaidur picked up a sheathed curved sword that had be
en resting by his leg and threw it to Casca. The scarred warrior caught it and slid the blade free. It gleamed dully in the lamp light of the shop, but was pristine, clean and brand new. A film of oil still coated it. Casca chuckled. “Kaidur, my friend, you have done well.”

  Kaidur bowed low. “We must leave tonight. I have arranged everything.”

  Still wearing his armor and now his sword, strapped to a belt around his waist, Casca followed Kaidur and the two guards along the street to a corner by the river. Here a couple of wagons had been parked, and more horses stood in front of and behind them. Some of the horses were mounted, but most weren’t. Casca noted the wagons were piled with supplies and equipment, and both were occupied by two people each. He was surprised, pleasantly so, to see Ashira sat on one. “Ho, woman, I see you have come along for the journey.”

  Ashira pouted. “As if I had any choice, master.”

  “There’s that,” Casca conceded. Kaidur thought of everything.

  Casca mounted up on one of the shaggy steppe horses the Mongols used almost exclusively, and settled himself. He wasn’t looking too forward to the journey, but horse was the only fast way of getting around, and where they were going there wouldn’t be that many roads, so traveling by wagon wouldn’t be fun.

  Kaidur led the small group north through the dark streets of the city and through the tall imposing gate, guarded by men who Kaidur had placed there that evening. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the governor replaced the guard with men of his own choosing, but that was no longer his concern. He had had enough of the city and its intrigues. He was returning to what he knew best, and was serving one who shared his beliefs and moreover was already a legend amongst the warriors of the Empire. What else could anyone in his place wish for?