Conqueror (2011) c-5

by Conn Iggulden

  She shook her head. ‘Of course not, husband. He should have put it before the princes and senior men. He should have considered you might challenge for the great khanate before he declared. But that is in the past. It is pointless to argue what he should have done. He declared himself khan. You have to see him as a man now, not the boy you once picked up when he fell, or you told stories to. He had the same mother in Sorhatani, who practically ruled the nation for years. He had the same father, who gave his life for a khan. You both had Genghis for a grandfather. If you keep thinking of Arik-Boke as a weakling or an idiot, he could destroy you.’

  ‘I’ll kill him first,’ Kublai said. ‘I did not expect to be khan, Chabi. Mongke had a dozen sons. If he’d lived just a few years longer, he would have named an heir and the line would have passed smoothly. But he did not and now he is gone and instead, instead…’ He could not express the fury that filled him and only clasped at the empty air.

  ‘You need to find calm,’ Chabi said. ‘You need to put aside your anger and betrayal and think as a khan.’ She shook her head. ‘And you need to make the decision. Either treat him as your enemy, or give up the khanate and swear an oath of loyalty to Arik-Boke. One or the other. There is no point driving yourself to madness with this. Either way, you cannot remain in Sung lands.’

  In an instant, the anger went out of her husband and he slumped as he stood before her, his shoulders drooping.

  ‘It’s just such a waste,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve lost good men. We’ve all suffered to carry out the orders Mongke gave me. I don’t know if he expected me to succeed or not. Maybe it’s true that he thought I’d fail and he would have to ride in and rescue me. But I am here, still standing. I could take their capital, Chabi.’

  ‘And you would lose the world if you do,’ she murmured wearily. ‘You’ve said all this before. Even if you win against the Sung, even if you become emperor here, you will still have to face Arik-Boke. You will have taken a khanate for the greater nation, but you will be your brother’s vassal. You would still have to go to Karakorum and swear loyalty to him.’ She sighed as the baby started to squeak and wriggle, gently putting her little finger in its mouth. Still asleep, the baby sucked greedily on it.

  ‘I cannot do that,’ he said, staring into the distance as if he could see all the way to the homeland. ‘I am khan, Chabi. I have the right and I will not give it up. What was he thinking to call himself khan? Do you see what he’s done to me? He had no right, Chabi. No right at all.’ He shook his head, turning again to stare into the fire.

  ‘When I was young, I used to dream of following in the path Ogedai laid out, but it was just a fantasy. His son Guyuk would inherit. I knew that. I understood that. When Guyuk died, Mongke was the obvious choice. He was older, respected. He’d ridden with Tsubodai into the west - he was everything I was not, Chabi. I wasn’t ready then. He used to sneer at me for the way I dressed and spoke, the books I read.’

  ‘I remember,’ Chabi said softly.

  ‘But he was right, Chabi! The things I’ve seen … no, the things I’ve done.’ He shuddered slightly as memories flashed into his mind. ‘I was an innocent. I thought I understood the world, but I was little more than a child.’

  Kublai took up an iron poker and began to thrust it at the burning logs, causing a stream of bright sparks to fly into the room. Chabi shielded the little girl from the heat with her hand.

  ‘But I am no longer a child,’ he said, his voice grown low and hoarse. He put the poker down and faced her.

  ‘We were so young then, but by the sky father, I am not that young man who had never seen the swollen dead. I am khan. It is done and I would not change it.’ He clenched his fist, taking pleasure in his own strength. ‘I will not let another stand in my place.’

  Both of them turned their heads as a man cleared his throat at the outer door. One of Kublai’s guards stood there, rain streaming off his oiled cloak and puddling around his boots.

  ‘Orlok Uriang-Khadai is here to see you, my lord khan,’ he said bowing deeply.

  No one reached Kublai without being checked for weapons and passing at least two guards. Even yam riders were forced to strip to bare skin before being allowed to dress and enter his presence. Those few who had reached him had been forced to remain with his tumans, rather than have them carry back the news of his declaration. The lessons of Mongke’s death were still rippling through the nation. It explained why Uriang-Khadai was flushed with indignation as he came in out of the rain.

  ‘You asked to see me, my lord khan,’ the orlok said, his mouth a thin, pale line. He spotted Chabi at that moment and bowed to her, unbending enough to smile at the child in her arms.

  ‘My lady, I did not see you there. Is your daughter well?’

  ‘She sleeps all day and keeps me awake all night, but yes, she is well. It’s time for me to wake and feed her.’

  Uriang-Khadai nodded, almost amiable. Kublai watched him in surprise, seeing a side of the man he had not witnessed before. Uriang-Khadai had not brought his wives or children on the campaign and it had simply not occurred to Kublai that the stern officer might be a doting father as well.

  Kublai cleared his throat and Uriang-Khadai bowed again to Chabi before approaching her husband at the great fire. Kublai gestured for him to warm himself and the orlok stood with his palms outstretched, gazing into the flames.

  ‘You were my brother Mongke’s man, Uriang-Khadai. I know it and it does not trouble me.’ He glanced at the orlok, but Uriang-Khadai said nothing.

  ‘You have proved yourself to me against the Sung …’ Kublai went on. ‘But that is past. It seems I must take my tumans home. If it comes to battle, we will face Mongol tumans on their own land. We will face our own people, men that perhaps you know and respect.’

  Uriang-Khadai turned from the flames, his eyes and the planes of his face in shadow. He nodded briefly.

  ‘And you wish to know if I can be trusted, my lord. I understand.’ He thought for a time, wiping some of the droplets of rain from his face. ‘I do not see how I can make you certain, my lord. It is true that your brother Mongke chose me to lead your armies, but I have obeyed every order from you. I have been loyal and I gave my oath with the rest when you declared yourself khan. If that is not enough, I do not know what else I can offer you.’

  ‘Your family is in Karakorum,’ Kublai said softly.

  Uriang-Khadai nodded, the muscles in his jaw tensing.

  ‘That is true. It is true for most of the men, the new tumans and the old. If your brother Arik-Boke uses my family as hostages, there is nothing I can do to save them. I will expect to avenge them.’

  For an instant, his eyes revealed a flash of raw anger and Kublai had a sudden insight that brought something like shame. His family had manipulated this man for years. Kublai looked away first. He had sent the women and children of his tumans back to Karakorum and he would have given his right hand to undo that innocent decision. It gave Arik-Boke a piece to play that would cut to the heart of those who fought with Kublai. He did not know yet if Arik-Boke would use the threat, but as Chabi had said, he no longer knew his brother.

  ‘I must plan a campaign against the homeland,’ Kublai said, almost in wonder. ‘Will you help me in this?’

  ‘Of course, my lord. You are the khan. My loyalty is yours.’ Uriang-Khadai spoke each word with such quiet certainty that Kublai felt his doubts vanish.

  ‘How would you begin?’ he said.

  Uriang-Khadai smiled, aware that the crisis had passed.

  ‘I would withdraw immediately from Sung lands, my lord. I would make my base in the Chin territory, around Xanadu. There is food enough there to keep us in the field. Your brother has to bring in grain and meat from the Chagatai khanate and Russian lands, so I would move to cut those lines. Supply will play a part in this war.’ The orlok began to pace in unconscious mimicry of Kublai’s movements before he had entered. ‘Your brother will have vassal princes, personally sworn to him. You must break the
strongest of those quickly, to send a message to the rest. Take your brother’s power, his support, and when you face him in battle, he will collapse.’

  ‘You have thought about it,’ Kublai said with a smile.

  ‘Ever since the news came in, my lord. You must return home and if you have to, you must tear down Karakorum. You are the khan. You cannot allow another to claim the title.’

  ‘You are not troubled at the thought of facing our own people in war?’ Kublai asked.

  Uriang-Khadai shrugged.

  ‘We have fought almost continuously for five years, my lord. The tumans under you were the best Mongke could give you, but they have become far stronger. I do not flatter them when I say that. No one your brother can field could stand against us. So no, I am not troubled. If they choose to draw a line in the ground, we will step right over it and gut them.’

  Uriang-Khadai paused, weighing his next words.

  ‘I do not know what you intend for your brother. You should know that if Arik-Boke threatens the families of our tumans, you may not be able to spare his life at the end. I have seen you grant mercy to entire cities, but your warriors lost only silver and loot when you did. If your brother has blood on his hands when we meet him …’ He broke off as Kublai grimaced.

  ‘I understand,’ Kublai said. The older man was watching him closely. ‘If this begins, I will end it. I do not want to kill him, orlok, but as you say, there are some things I will not ignore.’

  Uriang-Khadai nodded, satisfied at what he saw in Kublai’s face.

  ‘Good. It is important to understand the stakes. This is not a game, or a family feud that can be settled with a good argument and strong drink. This will get bloody, my lord. I take it you have not informed your brother of your intentions? I saw you were holding the yam riders prisoner.’

  Kublai shook his head.

  ‘That is something, at least,’ Uriang-Khadai said. ‘We will be able to surprise him and that is worth half a dozen tumans. I suggest you make Xanadu your stronghold, my lord. It is within striking range of your brother and we can leave the remaining camp followers there. Moving fast, we can break his supply lines and take the lands of whichever princes support him. We need information on those men, but with a little luck, the war could be over before your brother realises what is happening.’

  Kublai felt the older man’s confidence lift him. He thought of the letter from Arik-Boke once again. His brother had boasted of the princes who had given their oath to him.

  ‘I believe I may have a list, orlok. My brother was kind enough to give me the names of his most prominent supporters.’

  Uriang-Khadai blinked and then smiled slowly.

  ‘There were no yam lines when you made yourself khan, my lord. He may not hear for months yet what you have done. We can stay ahead of the news and be welcomed by the princes before they have any idea of our intentions.’

  Kublai’s mouth tightened at the thought. He did not enjoy the idea of approaching men who thought of him as an ally and then destroying them, but his brother had left him with few choices.

  ‘If that is how it must be,’ he said. ‘Mongke’s two oldest sons declared for my brother, Asutai and Urung Tash. Do you know them?’

  ‘No, my lord. They will have been given lands in exchange for their support. Who else?’

  ‘Chagatai’s grandson, Alghu; Jochi’s son, Batu. Those are the most powerful of his new allies.’

  ‘Then we will take them first. I am not worried about Mongke’s sons, my lord. They will be minor players and they have not yet made their names. Batu will control the supplies of food and equipment coming from the north. He is the one we must attack first, then Alghu.’

  Kublai thought for a moment.

  ‘Batu … owes me a great deal. Perhaps we can bring him to our side.’ Uriang-Khadai looked at him questioningly but he shook his head, unwilling to discuss it. ‘Even so, it means going around the homeland. Thousands of miles.’

  ‘Tsubodai managed three times the distance, my lord. Send a small force, two or three tumans to make the raid. General Bayar would bite your hand off if you offered him the chance to act for you. You and I will assault the Chagatai territory to the west.’

  ‘My brother Hulegu has a new khanate around Damascus. I will send someone to him there. Then Karakorum,’ Kublai said softly. ‘Each one in a season, orlok. I will not spend years on this. I want this finished quickly, so that I may return to the Sung.’

  ‘As you will, my lord khan,’ Uriang-Khadai said, bowing.

  Arik-Boke opened the door and leaned against the frame as he stared into the palace hall. The room was large enough to echo at the slightest noise, but the host of scribes seated at desks were almost silent. Only the scratch of quills and the gentle thump of ink-stamps could be heard. They sat with their heads bowed, writing and reading. Occasionally, one of them would rise from his seat with a scroll in hand and cross the room to check it in whispers with his superior.

  Batu peered through the open doorway. He was much older than Arik-Boke, though he too was a grandson of Genghis, descended through the line of Jochi, the first-born son to the great khan. His black hair was shot through with grey and his face was as weathered as any herdsman who spent his days in wind and rain. Only his paler skin showed his lands lay in the Russian north. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of the scribes and Arik-Boke chuckled.

  ‘You wanted to see the beating heart of the empire, Batu. This is it. I admit, it is not what I imagined when I became khan.’

  ‘I think I would go mad if I had to work in such a room,’ Batu replied seriously. He shrugged. ‘But it is necessary. I can only imagine the weight of information that must pass through Karakorum.’

  ‘It is the new world,’ Arik-Boke replied, closing the door softly behind them. ‘I think Genghis would not have understood it.’

  Batu grinned, looking suddenly boyish.

  ‘He would have hated it, I know that much.’

  ‘I am not one to dwell too long in the past, Batu. That is why I invited you to Karakorum. You are my cousin and men speak well of you. We should not be strangers.’

  ‘You honour me,’ Batu said lightly. ‘Though I am comfortable enough on my lands. My tribute is a burden, of course, but I have not failed to make the payments yet.’

  The hint was obvious enough and Arik-Boke nodded. ‘I will send a scribe to you to review the amounts. Perhaps some new arrangement should be worked out, for my khanate. All things can be remade, Batu. I have spent months simply learning the extent of my influence and power, but it is not all work. I see no reason why I should not reward those loyal to me.’

  ‘It is better to lead than to follow,’ Batu said. ‘It’s more tiring, but the rewards …’

  Arik-Boke smiled slyly. ‘Let me show you the rewards,’ he said, gesturing for Batu to follow. ‘My brother Hulegu described a seraglio in Baghdad. I have begun something similar here.’

  ‘A seraglio?’ Batu replied, pronouncing the strange word carefully.

  ‘A gathering of beautiful young women, dedicated to me. I have men in the slave markets with my funds, looking only for the youngest and best. Come, I will give you your choice, any of them that takes your eye. Or more than one, if you wish.’

  He led Batu down a series of corridors, until they came to a door and two heavyset guards. Both men stood rigidly in the presence of the khan and Arik-Boke swept past them, opening the door onto sounds of laughter and running water. Batu followed him in, his interest growing.

  A small courtyard was revealed beyond, set with lush plants and with a covered walkway running around it. Batu saw six or seven young women and he noted Arik-Boke’s wolfish smile broaden. Around the courtyard were simple chambers with beds and a few ornaments.

  ‘I keep them here until they are pregnant, then move them out to other rooms in the palace to have the children.’

  ‘They are … wives?’ Batu asked.

  Already the women were scrambling up at the khan�
�s presence, some of them kneeling on the polished stones. Arik-Boke laughed.

  ‘I have four wives, cousin. I do not need more of those.’

  He gestured to one young woman and she came forward with fear in her eyes. Arik-Boke raised her chin with his outstretched hand, turning her head to the right and left so that Batu could see her beauty. She stood very still as he dropped his hand past her neck and opened her robe, revealing her breasts. He lifted one with rough fingers and the girl tensed. When Arik-Boke spoke again, his voice had roughened.

  ‘What a delicious weight on my hand. No, Batu, these are for pleasure and children. I will have a thousand heirs. Why not? A khan should have a strong line. Choose any of them. They will give you a night to remember.’

  Batu had seen the girl’s wide pupils and understood the sweetish smell in the air was from opium. He showed Arik-Boke nothing as he nodded pleasantly.

  ‘My own wives are not so forgiving as yours, my lord khan. I think they would take a knife to my manhood if I took up your offer.’

  Arik-Boke snorted, waving the girl away.

  ‘What nonsense, cousin! Every man should be khan in his own home.’

  Batu smiled ruefully, struggling to find a way through that would not give offence. He did not want Arik-Boke’s women.

  ‘Every man has to sleep, my lord. I prefer to wake up with everything still attached.’

  He chuckled and Arik-Boke responded, some of the tension easing out of him. He continued to fondle the girl’s breasts, distracted.

  ‘My brother Hulegu described rooms dedicated to pleasures of the flesh,’ Arik-Boke said. ‘With costumes and strange chairs and tools; hundreds of beautiful women, all for the shah.’

  Batu grimaced, unseen. The girl stared with dull eyes as Arik-Boke pawed her. Her lips looked bruised and swollen, and in truth Batu found her intensely attractive. Yet, as Ogedai Khan had once told him, everything was about power. Batu did not want to put himself in Arik-Boke’s debt. He could sense the small man’s arousal coming off him in waves, almost like heat. Arik-Boke snuffled as he breathed through his mouth, the scarred face ugly in lust. Batu struggled with nausea as he kept his smile in place.