by Elena May
“The wind had come.”
Chapter Thirty
A Sharp Turn
Myra finished her tea and placed the empty cup down on the fluffy snow. Vladimir. Was this the one? The man whose name the Prince had taken as his own? She burned to ask him but was afraid to speak. What if it was too personal, too soon? What if he stopped talking and left? She settled on an easier question. “The Khan’s son was named Vladimir even before his baptism?”
The Prince smiled, but his eyes remained distant. “Oh, he was, and he hated it. At the end of one military campaign, he gained the nickname Rasate, after the Ras Fortress, where he signed a peace treaty with the Serbs. He preferred his nickname so much that some thought it was the name he was born with. But it was his father who named him Vladimir.”
He placed the kettle on the hot charcoals once again and refilled it with water. “Even back then, I knew this was a sign of a big change to come, but Roxana seemed to be right—the change had to be for the better. We all wanted peace and unity.”
Myra studied him across the flames and smoke, through the snowflakes melting in the air. His face had relaxed as he had spoken of his daughter and wife, and of the young heir. He looked at peace, but there was a strange, sharp edge in his voice.
“The hopes were so high when, three weeks after Khan Presian’s death, we gathered inside the stone Citadel in the Inner Town of Pliska.” His words were soft, but clear. “All the great and small boílas had arrived, and as many commoners as the Citadel could fit. More kept coming, and we kept squeezing in and making room. The hall felt like a waterskin made of a cow’s bladder, filling with more and more wine, stretching its walls and ready to burst. Crushed green pine needles simmered in large cauldrons over the many fireplaces along the wall, bringing the fresh scent of mountain woods into the city.
“Khan Boris would now officially receive his crown, and the priests and priestesses would foretell what his reign would bring. I stood close to the front rows, with my father and mother on my right and Roxana on my left. I held Erniké in my arms, raising her up so she could see above the crowd.
“Drummers started to beat out a rhythm, slow and longing. Stringed instruments joined them, adding their notes to weave a melody that broke my heart. A dozen musicians held polished sheep skulls filled with small stones, and they shook them in a lively rattle. A woman’s voice soared above it all, her song open, vast and boundless like the steppe of Asia. The sound was drenched in ache and yearning, a dream of freedom, of the north wind over the open land, of horse hooves over grass. Goose bumps rose all over my arms, and I stole a glance at Erniké, who was watching, wide-eyed.
“A woman’s voice chanted wishes and blessings. She recited the future Khan’s lineage in a deep, low voice, half-song, half-speech. Boris, son of Presian, son of Malamir, son of Omurtag the Builder, son of Krum, the Great Khan who had founded the dynasty.
“Erniké shifted in my arms. ‘Why does she say only the fathers? And not the mothers?’
“My hands itched, and coldness spread through my body. She had the mind of a child—innocent and natural, untwisted by the ways of the world. If only I could keep it this way forever. ‘Look, my sweet,’ I said instead of answering her, and I raised her higher up, above the heads of everyone around us. ‘The festivities are about to start.’
“The torch flames rose and fell like dancers, but I knew the true dancers were still to come. I suppressed a smile. I had seen it before, but it would be Erniké’s first time, and I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
“A tall man walked in front of the crowd, leading a large black ram on a leash. Behind him came five other men, each carrying a shovel and pushing a one-wheeled cart filled with red-hot burning charcoals.
“They took the shovels and started spreading the coals on the stony ground in a large, flat circle. A wave of heat reached my face. The coals glowed bright red, with small sparks of orange and gold.
“The music rose, higher and higher, and more voices joined the first in song, male and female alike. Seven women walked in front of the crowd, dressed in flowing robes of pure white, barefooted, their black hair long and loose. They raised their hands in the air together and stepped onto the charcoals.
“Erniké gasped. The women danced to the sweeping music, their bare feet touching the burning coals, and yet their faces showed no sign of pain. Their dresses flowed like waves in the sea. Sometimes the pure white hems would touch the coals and become scorched and blackened, but the dancer’s feet remained unhurt.
“‘How do they do it?’ Erniké asked once the music stopped and the men started collecting the coals back into the carts. ‘Is it magic?’
“‘No magic,’ I said. ‘Only skill. These are the nestinarki, the fire dancers.’
“‘When I grow up,’ Erniké said, ‘I’ll be a fire dancer.’
“She fell silent. Khan Boris had come in front of the crowd and was now giving his vows. He would protect our people as if we were his own family, and he would only do what was best for the realm. A woman dressed in white stepped next to him, her snow-white hair falling long and straight around her wizened face.
“‘That is Kalina, the High Priestess of Tangra,’ I whispered to Erniké.
“Kalina nodded to the man holding the black ram, and he held up the animal and placed it onto a stone altar. The men who had brought the charcoals now walked to the altar and helped him tie down the sacrifice.
“Kalina took out a large jewel-encrusted dagger from a sheath at her belt and handed it to the Khan. ‘Take it, Kanasubigi,’ she said—that was the proper term to address a Great Khan. ‘You must deliver the sacrifice. I will guide you.’
“Boris raised the dagger and slowly cut the ram from heart to stomach. A sickly metallic scent mixed with the smell of pines, and dark red blood flowed out, all over the altar and onto the stony floor.
“‘See?’ Kalina pointed at the blood. ‘So many small rivulets. All divided as we are now. But see, here they all come together. You will bring unity, Kanasubigi, as no other khan has done before. Together, we will be stronger and will have peace with our neighbors. But look! The river then makes a turn. Such a sharp turn I’ve never seen before. You will bring a change, Kanasubigi. You will take a path no khan has ever taken. And here—the river stops and forms a pond, large and deep. This strange path you take will lead us to prosperity.’
“‘When I grow up,’ Erniké said. ‘I’ll be a khan.’
“My father chuckled next to me. ‘I would love to see that, dear child.’
“‘Don’t encourage her.’ My hold around my daughter tightened. ‘Erniké, every khan comes from the ruling dynasty,’ I said. ‘Boris comes from Krum’s Dynasty. They have ruled us for fifty years, and may they rule for many more.’
“‘So, dynasties change?’ she said. ‘The next one will be Erniké’s Dynasty.’
“My father was now laughing openly, but I ignored him. ‘Erniké, the khan is always a man.’
“‘Why?’ she asked.
“‘Because he is chosen by Tangra to represent him in the material world. And Tangra chooses a man.’
“‘But I’ll be a priestess of Tangra,’ she said. ‘And then I’ll tell him to choose me. And then I’ll be the first woman khan.’
“‘Erniké, you shouldn’t—’ I started, but my father interrupted me.
“‘You shouldn’t always listen to your father,’ he said with a wink, and she giggled.
“I sighed. ‘Indeed. How come you never gave me this piece of advice? And, please, stop giving her hopes for something that cannot be.’
“‘Cannot be?’ he said. ‘How would you know what can and cannot be? You heard Kalina—a change is coming, a big change that will bring prosperity. And perhaps this change will impact young Erniké’s future in ways we cannot possibly foresee.’
“I fisted my hand and turned my eyes to the bloodied floor and the sharp turn in the river of blood. I was not at all sure I wanted any changes out of my c
ontrol to impact my daughter’s future.”
“None of the promises of greatness came true at first. Some of Boris’s early military campaigns went wrong, and he lost territory to Byzantium. But when it came to politics, he was a magician. Whenever he met with foreign diplomats, he always got everything he wanted, and more. I watched him and learned, and his lessons helped me centuries later.
“The first years of Boris’s reign were mostly uneventful—neither great nor bad, more peace than war and more gains than losses, although there were plenty of both. Roxana and I gained another brave and spirited daughter, but we also lost three children—one stillborn, and two who lived no more than a month.
“But all the peace and calm changed about a decade after Khan Boris’s coronation, when he called all great boílas to a council meeting of unseen importance.
“‘My trusted advisors,’ the Khan said. He sat on a high throne at the end of a long rectangular table. Bright sunlight seeped through the large arched windows, sliding over the gold that adorned his seat. ‘We have a matter of great importance to discuss. You are certainly aware that both the Christian and Muslim preachers on the outskirts of our khaganate have multiplied in the past years.’
“Terimer stood up from his chair and fisted his hand. ‘My sources have told me of this,’ he said. ‘We need to kill this snake while it’s still small.’
“‘I agree that we need to do something about it,’ Boris said calmly, fixing his advisor with his dark eyes.
“‘We need to kill all the preachers,’ said Terimer. ‘And then we need to punish everyone who converted, as a lesson to the others.’
“I stared at Terimer, unbelieving. How could an advisor to the Khan, a great boíla, suggest such a thing? It stood against all our values and against the paths our ancestors had followed for centuries.
“‘We will do no such thing,’ I said. ‘Tangra teaches us to respect everyone under the Eternal Blue Sky and to give them a place at our table, be they Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, or those who worship the many Slavic gods. We cannot force our beliefs on anyone or judge them for theirs. And what is the problem, anyway? People in our lands have been converting to foreign faiths for centuries. If a few more follow, so what?’
“‘So what, indeed,’ Boris said. ‘I can tell you exactly what will happen if we do nothing. More and more people will convert. Both Christianity and Islam hold an appeal I cannot claim to understand, and people are flocking to these preachers like moths to the flame.’
“He stood up and walked along the table, his long red cape, embroidered with a border of golden lions around the edge, trailing on the stone floor. ‘In a few years, a part of our realm will be Christian, and another Muslim. Some of us will still have Tangra, and some of the Slavs will still have their gods. Some of the Christians will follow the Eastern Greek rites, and some the Western Latin. We will be more divided than ever, and if we try to fix the damage, it will be too late. The matter will have fallen out of our hands. We must act now. But worry not.’ He met my eyes. ‘When I say we must act, killing and punishing the new converts is far from my mind.’
“He paused and looked around the room, meeting each of the boílas’ eyes one by one. ‘We must accept Christianity as a state religion. And we will make everyone convert—Slavs and Bulgars alike.’
“A few gasps sounded, and many denials. I myself felt my world spin. Surely, the Khan could not be suggesting this in all seriousness. Surely, I had misunderstood.
“‘The world that we know is changing,’ Boris continued. ‘And we must change with it, like a sand viper throwing away its old skin and donning a new one. Christianity will come for us sooner or later. We can be powerless victims, letting the tides of time carry us to whatever shore, or we can take the matters into our own hands. If we do this now, we have much to gain and nothing to lose. Rome and Constantinople can’t stand each other. They both want us. Let them haggle for us, and see who makes the better offer.’
“‘So, we are bait for vultures now?’ Terimer cried.
“‘Nothing to lose?’ I uttered. ‘We lose our whole identity. We lose who we are. And what do we gain?’
“‘Strength,’ the Khan said. ‘Finally, the Bulgars and the Slavs will unite under one faith, and we will use the opportunity to create one common tongue among us. And Christianity will bring us closer to Europe. Until we do this, everyone will view us as barbarians, as heathen outsiders who came from the east and defeated the civilized Byzantium and stole the lands that should have gone to European people.’
“I watched the Khan, and bile rose to my throat. He didn’t care about the Christian God. He didn’t care about Tangra, or anyone, or anything. All that mattered was politics. ‘And you think Christianity will unite our people?’ I said. ‘How? They’ll go to these temples and hear sermons in Greek or Latin that no one will understand. They will have no idea what they are expected to believe in or why. This new religion will be meaningless to them.’
“‘Unless the sermons are in Slavonic,’ Boris said.
“I frowned. ‘Impossible. Priests can only hold service in Aramaic, Greek, or Latin.’
“‘And now, they will do it in Slavonic,’ he said.
“He was ambitious; I had to give him that. ‘The Pope will never allow this,’ I said.
“Boris interlaced his fingers in his lap. ‘Or perhaps he will. And I will go one step further. I will give the Slavs an alphabet fit for their tongue. The brother monks Cyril and Methodius have already devised a prototype. Many are unhappy about this, and they face persecution all over Europe. But I will offer them and their disciples a refuge and my patronage, so they can continue their work in peace.’
“Terimer was pacing back and forth, muttering, ‘Madness. This is madness.’ I felt sick. Boris had thought this through. He was not asking us for our advice. He was informing us of a decision he had already made.
“‘Wouldn’t that weaken your rule, Kanasubigi?’ I challenged, desperate. ‘The majesty of the Khan is granted by Tangra. If you abandon this, your rule will be no longer divine.’
“‘A king’s rule is also divine,’ said Boris. ‘Christianity is the perfect state religion. It teaches people to be obedient and to be good.’
“‘You speak as if people are mindless sheep,’ I said. ‘People don’t need the fear of hell to do good. Should we force our people into a faith that shames them for who they are? A faith that glorifies pain and suffering and condemns pleasure that harms no one?’
“‘The Greeks have been Christian for centuries and have led rich and happy lives,’ the Khan said.
“‘Yes, but that is them, not us,’ I said. ‘Faiths from all around the world have developed naturally, from the land and from the people. Tribes worshipped their own gods and no one tried to impose them on others.’ I leaned forward across the table, meeting the Khan’s gaze, my eyes pleading. ‘No one but the Christians and Muslims, who go around colonizing the world and forcing others to accept their beliefs. When we came here, did we force the Slavs to worship Tangra? We left them have their gods, as it should be.’
“‘This is because Tangra appeals only to our people,’ Boris said. ‘Just as the Slavic gods appeal only to them. These are, as you said, faiths that evolved naturally from the people and the land, and would belong to no one else. But, for some reason or another, Christianity and Islam appeal to the whole world.’
“Kotrag, one of the boílas, cleared his throat. ‘There is wisdom in your words, Kanasubigi,’ he said. ‘But, surely, if we have to accept Christianity, it cannot be from Byzantium. They have been our greatest enemy since the day our ancestors arrived in these lands.’
“‘We are neighbors,’ Boris said. ‘We are currently at peace, and I would keep it that way. And, as I said, nothing is decided. Perhaps Rome will make the better offer.’
“Terimer spat on the floor. ‘For two centuries Byzantium tried to defeat us and always failed. And now, we give ourselves to them willingly? Their swords wer
e never sharp enough to conquer us, but now we let them conquer us with books!’
“Boris stood up and met Terimer’s gaze, his dark eyes hard. ‘If you believe I will let our future church be subservient to Byzantium, you do not know me at all. We will be independent and their equals in every way. I am not letting books conquer us. I am giving our people writing and knowledge, so we have the strength to withstand anything coming at us.’ His gaze swept the room once again. ‘Think on what I said. I will begin my negotiations and will update you on my progress. This council is dismissed.’
“I walked down the narrow corridor leading outside, my chest tight. I couldn’t breathe. Terimer and Kotrag hurried their pace to catch up with me. ‘The Khan couldn’t have come up with this insanity on his own,’ said Terimer. ‘Someone is whispering in his ear.’
“‘It’s his Greek slave, Gregoras,’ Kotrag said. ‘I’ve seen the Khan. He treats him more as a tutor and an equal than as a slave.’
“‘No,’ said Terimer. ‘It must be the Khan’s sister. She converted to Christianity while in Constantinople.’
“I listened to them, but I knew they were both wrong. No one was influencing Boris. I wished that had been the case—then we could have dealt with it one way or another. But the Khan had made this decision clearheaded and on his own.
“‘What are we going to do?’ I asked.
“‘We can only hope no one is interested in what the Khan has to offer,’ Terimer said.
“Right. No one in Europe would be interested in the Bulgar Khaganate abandoning what they called ‘paganism’ and converting to Christianity? ‘And if that fails?’ I asked.
“‘If that fails,’ said Kotrag, ‘we hope that Rome makes the better offer.’”
Chapter Thirty-One
Civilization
A gust of frosty wind blew in Myra’s face, and she pulled at the woolen blanket, trying to disappear inside it. Snowflakes bit at her cheeks like tiny daggers. Her eyes fixed on the flames, rising greedily, dancing, devouring frost and snow. Ice and fire, caught up in an eternal battle. Humans and vampires. Change and stability. There was no peace, no balance, only never-ending conflict.