by Barry Sadler
Casca watched Temujin lead his small army out of the camp of the Borjigin. He strutted, if it was possible to do so from horseback. His eyes shone with pride and promise. Casca wasn't so sure. A hundred men was still very far from an empire. But who knows? And he had nothing better to do, so he rode along to see what would be the conclusion of this story.
From the village they passed through the last of the Khanghai range onto the plains between the Rivers Selenga and Orkhon, skirting the lands of the Kereit of Ong Khan. One more river crossing and they entered the ancestral lands of the Mongols. Here, where the plains ran as far as the mind could reach, was the breeding place of the savage tribes of the steppes.
To the west were the Quonqurat of Bortei; to the north the Merkit; and behind them three hundred miles, the Naiman, the Tumat. Quigiz and numerous large family clans too small to be called tribes were to be found in the Sayan mountain range, along the Rivers Tannu-Qla and Yenesei.
Water was the stuff of life. Those who could claim land along the river were blessed. The other poorer, less powerful tribes, were pushed out into the Gobi or Tien Shan deserts to scratch as best they could for life.
To the south was the River Tula and Ulan Bator, the only city of any consequence for hundreds of miles. And it was no more than a pigsty fit for traveling bandits and beggars.
Temujin led them past this to an alley in the Kentei Mountains. There he had them make camp. The journey had been slow and uneventful. Ten days to cover only three hundred miles. Normally they could cover a hundred miles a day, but Temujin wanted the time on the trek to get to know his army better.
The trail told one many things about the people he traveled with – who was a slacker and who would do more than his share. It was an excellent testing ground. However, he had done well in the selection of his warriors. With the aid of Chagar and Casca, they had weeded out the troublemakers early. These hundred would serve him well.
Once camp was made and the animals cared for, Temujin called a war council, consisting of he, Casca, and Chagar. It was time to find out what was happening in his village where the Qiyat, the tribe of his fathers, awaited his return. It would be good to talk with his brothers Jochi and Temuge. Temuge was his youngest full brother and was three years younger and his favorite. Elchitei and Belgutei were not in the camp. They had gone on Jemuga's orders to another village near the junction of the Rivers Orkhon and Shilka. Jemuga thought four of Yeshugei's brats in the same camp might be too much to keep the peace.
Casca would have gone, but Temujin was concerned that he might be recognized by someone who had been to Qura-Qurom, and if that occurred, they might be able to place him and Temujin together.
Jemuga was very suspicious, and that could prove exceedingly painful. No, it was best if Chagar went on this mission and brought his brothers here to him. From them he would find out all he needed to know. Then they would make plans for the removal of Jemuga.
The way Temujin spoke of Jemuga made Casca think that it would have been a good thing to have one like him on their side. He had once asked Temujin if he thought there was any possibility of bringing Jemuga over to them.
Temujin had laughed bitterly, replying with a touch of the sadness that memories bring, "I wish that it were so, Old Young One. Jemuga was one of the best men I have ever known. But it has gone too far between us now. He must be put to rest for my mind to be free. I must pay my debt to him.
"None will have faith in me if I forgive him or let him go. You do not yet know very well my people, Old Young One. Vengeance they understand. What you call mercy is a strange and alien concept to most of them. But do not feel compassion for Jemuga.
"If you think I am a savage, it is only because you have not yet met him. I don't know what happened. But something changed him. He was the friend of my childhood, and now he is a wild animal that I must destroy. I can never rest completely as long as I know that he draws a breath upon this earth."
It took Chagar four days to return from the village of the Qiyats. He had followed behind mounted on a shaggy bay gelding, a smaller replica of Temujin's. The boy looked to be about fourteen years old and was armed to the teeth with bow, sword, lance, and even a small ax hanging from a leather thong attached to his saddle.
When they were spotted coming, Temujin swung into the saddle, racing out to meet them. From where Casca sat on a boulder, he saw at first much backslapping, hugging, then, as if aware of his dignity as a leader of warriors, Temujin swung back into his saddle and stiffly rode back to their camp, with Chagar and Temuge following behind.
Temujin always had to be in the lead. Well, that was his nature. At least he did show the first bit of normal human feelings for another. Maybe there was hope he could become civilized. Casca thought about that for a moment, then shook his head from side to side. No way!
After leading them all away from the rest of the men, Temujin introduced his youngest brother to Casca. Temuge looked at him with awe, as though a ghost story had come true. Temuge kept his distance from Casca, though he never took his eyes off him for very long. Temujin laughed at his brother's actions, saying, "Don't worry, Temuge. He is on our side. I know he's ugly, but you will get used to him after a time. Now tell us what has happened since I left. Where is Jochi?"
Temuge relaxed a bit. His voice was higher and he was smaller and thinner. Other than that, Casca thought he knew exactly how Temujin looked when he was the same age, which was not that long ago. "First, my brother. Jochi thought it was best if only I came. As I am the youngest, Jemuga does not pay much attention to me. He will not miss me if I am gone for a few days. On the other hand, he watches Jochi like a hawk. He knows every time he goes to empty his bowels."
Temuge broke into a high-pitched, boyish laugh. "Jochi says that he goes to shit so often, hoping one day he'll look down and there will be Jemuga spying on him."
Everyone joined in the laughter. It was good and broke up much of the tension as everyone was waiting to hear about Jemuga and what plans could be made to eliminate him.
"That's good, little brother. I am glad to see you can still laugh. But now tell me of Jemuga and the tribe."
"As you say, Temujin, Jemuga is not well loved. There are few who follow him willingly, but he has some who do. They prey on the rest of us like wolves on sheep. The slightest wrong word or look and you die. But if you are to take Jemuga, then you must get rid of those who stand by him. Many are from outside the tribes, though all are hated."
Temuge sat down, pursing and sucking his lips. "How many will fight for Jemuga?"
Temuge looked around at Casca and Chagar. "I don't know. If you meet him in open battle, there will be many who will be afraid not to join with him. On the other hand, if you can take his men, who number about four hundred in the camp though there are more who oversee the rest of the camps, he will have little if any support. Most will just wait and see who survives. They remember our father well, but they know you were driven out by Jemuga. Take our camp. Throw out Jemuga and all will follow you. Fail and be driven out again and they will have no faith that you will ever take over our father's place."
Casca liked the way the boy thought. Like Temujin, he was young but seemed to have a good mind. Their father, Yeshugei, must have been a hell of a man, for he'd certainly trained his son well.
Temujin stood up, dusting off the seat of his trousers. "I think you are right, little brother. As the Old Young One once said, `Take the head and the body follows.' Or words to that effect. He says the same things so many different ways sometimes, it is hard to keep them all straight. But anyway, that is what it means. We will go after Jemuga. If his men get in the way, we'll be ready for them."
Putting his arm around Temuge's shoulders, he gave him a hug. "Now return to the camp. I know there are some there who remember me and would like to see me regain the khanship of our father. As soon as you return, don't waste time sleeping or resting. Immediately seek them out and speak to them – but only those you are absolutely certain of.<
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"Tell them I will come with men five nights from now. We will attack just before dawn, going straight for Jemuga's yurt. All my men have to do is hold his off long enough for me to kill him, and they will fall apart.
"Now, before you make the ride back, show us the layout of the camp – where the guards are stationed and, most important, the location of Jemuga's yurt. And once you return, do not forget to tell Jochi to be ready from the moment you return."
Once Temuge had drawn the layout of the camp, Temujin took him back to his horse and hugged him firmly, saying with affection, "One day, for what you and Jochi have done, I shall make you kings. Now ride, little brother, and remember to tell Jochi to be ready from this moment on."
Temuge leapt into the saddle with an ease and grace that Casca hated, reared his horse back on its hind legs, waved his sword in salute, heeled the bay, and was gone in a cloud of dust.
"Temujin," he asked, "do you think it wise to have him tell anyone of the time when we are going to attack?"
Temujin turned to look at him. "Old Young One, you are forgetting your own classes and the words of Sun Tzu that all war is deception. Well, I have just deceived my own brother. He will do as I said and tell only the most trusted of our coming. But I will guarantee you that Jemuga has subverted at least one of them. Jemuga will be looking for us in five days. We will hit him the same night that Temuge returns."
Turning to Chagar, he commanded, "Get the men ready to ride in two hours. We go to win back that which was lost to me."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Temujin called his warriors to him. Quickly he made his plans. Sketching out the camp, he made certain that each of them knew exactly where they were supposed to be. This would be fast. "No time to play, and remember, kill only those who oppose you, for they are my people."
Using the dirt map at his feet, he pointed out the yurts of the guard who served Jemuga, where his yurt was located, and the pastures where the horses and camels were kept. To each one he drew lines and assigned them to one of the tens of which the hundred was made up.
They were to be broken down into three main parties. Each would have its target and its time to move. He would command one, taking Casca with him. Chagar would take control of the other elements.
Once the situation was laid out, he gave the command to mount and ride. They would be three hours behind Temuge, keeping their distance.
They rode long into the night. Temuge would not stop until he reached the camp. His brother was returning.
Temujin told Casca as they passed an outcropping of sun- blistered and freeze-cracked boulders, "It is important that we do not lose any time. Temuge will ride fast. Once we are there, we will have to go into action immediately. That will give him three hours to spread the words of our return. In that time Jemuga will hear of it.
"If we wait any longer, he will take Temuge and Jochi. I cannot let that happen. If they are in his power, he will try to use them as hostages against me. And I would have to let them die.
"One can never give in to threats of that nature. There is only one response. The hostages pay the price and you kill those who took them, preferably in the most painful and memorable manner possible, to discourage those who would try such acts again."
Several times in the distance they saw the dust trail of Temuge as he rode across the plains. Temujin was careful to keep their distance. Temuge stopped only long enough to rest his horse, then he was off again, alternately riding and walking to make the best time. Temujin's force emulated him.
It was near dusk of the second day when Temujin called a halt. They were near the camp of Qiyats. Now they must wait until dark fell before they moved any farther. Temuge had just entered the camp. Temujin didn't see it, but he knew.
Now they would rest for an hour, then move in closer, staying in one group till they were closer to the camp, where they would break up into their separate units.
They had taken up hiding behind a ridge of low hills overlooking where the camp was laid out beside the River Kerulen. Behind the camp, rising to the heavens in that strange glowing orange light of the Gobi, were the Kentei Mountains, their peaks aflame with reds and golds as the sun died for another night.
Once more he called his leaders to him. Pointing to one place, then another around the valley, he gave them detailed descriptions of the features of the land.
Other dust trails rose from the plains, those of the camp's outriders. Temujin made note of them and spoke to his commanders. "Mark them well – and their numbers. We will try to go between them. It is best not to engage them at this time. But don't worry, when we have taken the camp, you will have an opportunity to try yourselves against them when they return. By then we will have all the men of the Qiyat behind us."
It was time. They moved slowly as soon as the dark had set enough to cover the trails. When they were an hour from the village, Temujin detached two ten-man elements and showed them where to station themselves. They were to guard against the outriders or messengers from the observation posts coming to warn or aid Jemuga. If they did return, they would have a warm welcome.
This was his land and he knew they would take the same trails back; they always did. "Habits," the Old Young One had said, "were to be avoided at all costs. Never repeat yourself except when your enemy expects you to do something different. Break patterns and thinking, and you will always be ahead of your foe."
Jemuga's outriders were not large in number. Bands of five or ten men at the most. They served only to watch over the valley. But they were late and the valley was large. Most of them would take up posts on high ridges to watch for dust trails, then send fast riders to warn the camp if the strangers appeared to be in large numbers. Temujin knew where all of these posts were.
With the fall of night they could make out the camp by the fires, which burned softly in the camp like fireflies in heat. Ahead of his units he sent his own outriders, ones who knew how to kill silently and quickly. It was for them to reduce or eliminate anyone between them and the camp, but only if it was possible to do so without noise. If it looked as if it would get messy, they were to try to avoid them and look for another way.
Two miles from the camp, they split into their three separate elements, Temujin taking Casca, fifty men, and going to the left; Chagar taking the other two units to the right.
When they could clearly see the outlines of the tents and yurts in the dark, Temujin waited no more. With a cry he launched the attack, driving over several sentries, who had little time to cry out warnings. But it wasn't necessary; the sound of drumming hooves was well known on the steppes. Men rushed from tents with weapons, and Temujin and his men cried out that Temujin had returned and that they were friends with the Qiyat: They only wanted Jemuga and the traitors. Most listened; a few did not, and they died.
Temujin rode straight for the baragah of Jemuga, Casca with him and the rest coming fast behind. They broke through the first line of bodyguards to reach the baragah of Jemuga. Casca was first to hit the line of guards with the chest of his horse, half running into the tent.
Rolling out of the saddle to where his feet were on dry, solid ground, he faced off with two warriors. They had no chance; just as he was not at home on horseback or aboard ship, they were not well suited to fighting on the ground.
He hit one with the round, spiked shield, slapping the man's sword to the outside, then driving the four-inch spike of the shield into his chest. The weight of the man's body dragged it from his arm. The other Mongol tried a wild, wide side cut to Casca's head, under which he dropped, then Casca sank his sword deep into the Mongol's armpit, severing the large artery and puncturing the upper lobe of the lung.
As he came to his feet, regaining his shield and sword, he was nearly knocked on his ass by a heavy blow to the shield. Stumbling backward, he swung wildly with his sword to keep whoever had hit him from following up until he regained his balance.
He made a solid hit on the other's weapon, a type of ax he had not seen s
ince he'd left the land of the Germanii tribes centuries past: a heavy, two-handed, hardwood shaft topped with a single-sided massive blade as large as a man's two hands spread together.
The man wielding it was equally impressive, taller than Temujin and much wider-shouldered. Unlike many of his tribe who preferred shaven pates, he had a full head of rich, wild black hair streaming in a mane down his shoulders. Thick mustaches hung to the tips of his jawline, the ends swinging free as he hefted the battle-ax for another try to rip Casca's head off.
The blow was stopped but only just barely. Another sword came to his aid. Temujin was there, standing beside him, hacking at Jemuga, teeth clenched. It took both him and Casca to drive the man back into the tent.
Jemuga handled the heavy ax with ease. From his hands it swung as lightly as a wand. Twice more Casca tried to close upon him so he could get under the ax and sink his blade into his opponent's stomach. If he could do that, he would then be content to step back and wait for him to die without taking any further risks. One kiss of that wide blade and you lost an arm or leg, if not your head.
Jemuga's men were rallying to him. Emerging from holes they cut in the walls of the yurt, they bunched around him. More were coming, and Temujin's men were hard pressed to hold their own. Jemuga's warriors were well trained and alert. They knew their jobs. They formed into a solid vee formation. Not bunching up, they gave each other enough room to use their weapons and still keep the formation solid.
Casca knew he had been right. It would have been much better, if possible, to have had Jemuga on their side. But that was wishful thinking. Right now he had to do his best to keep the Mongol from chopping him to bits, along with Temujin, who was ever mindless of his own safety.
Jemuga added another to Temujin's long list of scars, this one running along his rib cage. The ax had just kissed him, but he thought it had caved in his side. Once more Temujin threw himself at Jemuga, screaming in rage as he tried to get to the man who had betrayed him. It was the first and only time he saw Temujin lose complete control.
