“You are afraid,” Genghis murmured, though he was guessing.
“I am not,” Jochi replied without heat, reaching for his clothes. “Will you love me more if I beat them?” For the first time, his voice shuddered with strong emotion. “I do not think you will.”
Genghis looked at the little boy in astonishment. Not one of Yesugei’s sons would have dared to speak to him in such a way. How would his father have responded? He winced at the memories of Yesugei’s hands clipping him. His father would not have allowed it. For an instant, he considered knocking sense into the boy, but then he saw that Jochi expected it and had tensed himself for the blow. The impulse died before it was born.
“You would make me proud,” Genghis said to him.
Jochi shook, but it was not from the cold. “Then today, I will run,” he said. His father watched without understanding as Jochi took a mouthful of the river and set off, running fast and sure over the broken ground after his brothers.
When it was quiet again, Genghis walked little Tolui back to where Borte sat by the ponies. She was stony-faced and did not meet his eyes.
“I will spend more time with them,” he told her, still trying to comprehend what had happened with Jochi. She looked up at him and for an instant her face softened as she saw his confusion.
“He wants nothing more in the world than to be accepted by you as your own,” she said.
Genghis snorted. “I do accept him. When have I not?”
Borte rose to her feet to face him. “When have you taken him in your arms? When have you told him how proud you are of him? Do you think he has not heard the whispers of the other boys? When have you silenced the foolish ones with some display of affection?”
“I did not want to make him soft,” he said, troubled. He had not known it had been so obvious, and for a moment, he saw how hard a life he had forced on Jochi. He shook his head to clear it. His own life had been harder and he could not force himself to love the boy. As every year passed, he saw less and less of himself in those dark eyes.
His thoughts were interrupted by Borte’s laugh. It was not a pleasant sound.
“The bitterest thing of all is that he is so obviously your son, more than any of the others. Yet you cannot see it. He has the will to stand up to his own father and you are blind.” She spat into the grass. “If Chagatai had done the same, you would be grinning and telling me the boy had his grandfather’s courage.”
“Enough,” he said quietly, sick of her voice and her criticism. The day had been spoiled for him, a mockery of the joy and triumph he remembered when he had come to that place with his own father and brothers.
Borte glared at his angry expression. “If he beats Chagatai down the hill, how will you react?” she said.
He cursed, his mood as sour as old milk. He had not considered that Jochi might still win, and he knew that if he did, he would not embrace the boy with Borte watching. His thoughts swirled without release and he did not know how he would react at all.
Temuge listened to Khasar’s grunting with a furious expression. His brother had earned a great deal of goodwill among the crew with his response to the attack. In the days after those terrifying moments in the dark, Chen Yi regularly included the Mongol warrior in the camaraderie of the boat. Khasar had learned many phrases in their language and shared their rations of hard spirit and balls of rice and shrimp in the evening. Ho Sa too seemed to have warmed to the boat master, but Temuge remained resolutely apart. It did not surprise him to see Khasar acting like an animal with the others, hanging his backside over the side and defecating into the river in broad daylight. He had no understanding and Temuge wished Khasar would realize that he was nothing more than a bowman sent to protect his younger brother. Genghis, at least, knew how valuable Temuge could be to him.
On the night before they left for the river, Genghis had summoned Temuge and asked him to remember every detail of the walls of Baotou, every part of the defenses. If they failed to return with the masons who had constructed the city, that knowledge might be all they had to begin a summer campaign. Genghis trusted Temuge’s memory and the keen intelligence that Khasar evidently lacked. Temuge had recalled the urgency in frustration when they passed a boat with two female crew and Khasar waved silver coins at them, inviting them over.
There was no privacy in the boat and Temuge could only stare at the water rather than watch as two young women stripped off and swam across like otters, gleaming and shivering as they came on board. Chen Yi had thrown out an anchor in the deep water so the women could swim back when the crew were finished with them.
Temuge closed his eyes at the squealing sounds that came from the second of the two women. She was small breasted and lithe, attractive in her youth, though she had not looked in his direction as she accepted Khasar’s coin. The sounds she made were only interrupted when Khasar’s plunging efforts knocked her hand open and the coin rolled away, causing laughter from the watching crew as she pushed him off and scrambled for it on her hands and knees. Temuge observed from the corner of his eye as Khasar took advantage of the opportunity, and the girl’s giggling made him swear under his breath. What would Genghis think of this delay to their planning? They had been given a task without equal in importance for the tribes. Genghis had made that clear. Without knowing how to enter the walled cities of the Chin, the Imperial soldiers would never be broken. It made Temuge furious while he waited for Khasar to finish for a second time. The day was being wasted and he knew that if he said anything, his brother would scorn him in front of the crew. Temuge burned with silent humiliation. He had not forgotten why they were there, even if Khasar had.
It was growing dark when Borte saw Jochi leading his exhausted brothers back across the river. His bare feet still bled from the run as he stood before her, his chest heaving. Borte’s heart broke for the little boy as he looked in vain for his father. Something went out of him when he saw Genghis was not there. He spat out the mouthful of water and gasped loudly into the evening silence.
“Your father was called back to the camp,” Borte lied. Jochi did not believe her. She could see the pain in his face and she hid her frustration with her husband and herself for arguing with him.
“He will have gone to his new wife, the foreigner,” Jochi said suddenly. Borte bit her lip rather than reply. In that too, she had lost the man she had married. With her oldest son standing bewildered and hurt before her, it was easy to hate Genghis for his selfish blindness. She resolved to enter the ger of the Xia Xia woman if she could not find him. Perhaps he did not care for his wife any longer, but he did care for his sons and she would use that to bring him back.
Chagatai and Ogedai came stumbling along in the darkness, each boy spitting water as he had been told. Without their father to see, the victory was hollow and they seemed at a loss.
“I will tell him how you ran,” Borte said, her eyes shining with tears. It was not enough for them and they were silent and wounded as they mounted for the ride home.
CHAPTER 12
HO SA TOLD THE BROTHERS that Baotou was a trek of some miles from the busy river port that kept it supplied. The city was the last trading post between the northern Chin and the Xi Xia kingdom, and the river teemed with boats by the time they wound their way into the area. The journey had taken three weeks since abandoning their ponies, and Temuge at least was sick of the slow hours, the damp river mists, and the diet of rice and fish. Chen Yi and his crew drank from the river without ill effects and Khasar seemed to have a stomach of iron, but Temuge’s bowels had grown weak for three days, leaving him in misery and his clothes foul. He had never eaten or even seen fish before, and he did not trust the silver-scaled things from the river. The boat crew seemed to delight in them as they yanked them onboard on thin lines, jerking and flopping madly while the men stove in their heads. Temuge had washed his garments as they moored, but his stomach continued to rumble and bring bad air from both ends.
As the Yellow River snaked between hills, more an
d more birds could be seen, living on scraps from the boats and traders. Temuge and Khasar were fascinated by the sheer number of men and craft bringing cargoes up and down the river, denser in this place than any other they had seen. Though Chen Yi seemed able to find a path through the press with just the sail, many of the boatmen carried long poles to fend off other boats. It was noisy and chaotic, with hundreds of shouting traders competing to sell anything from fresh fish to water-spoiled cloth that could still be used for rough clothing. The smell of strange spices hung in the air as Chen Yi maneuvered between his competitors, looking for a space to moor for the evening.
Chen Yi was even better known in these waters, and Temuge watched with narrow eyes as he was hailed by friends again and again. Despite the fact that the crew seemed to have accepted Khasar as one of their own, Temuge did not trust the little boat master. He agreed with Ho Sa that the hold was probably full of some contraband substance, but perhaps the man could earn another few coins by reporting their presence to Imperial soldiers. Remaining onboard without knowing they were safe was a gnawing tension on all three men.
It was clearly no accident that they arrived at the river port as evening was coming. Chen Yi had delayed their passage around a bend in the river, not deigning to reply when Temuge pressed him to make better time. Whatever was in his hold would be unloaded in the darkness, when the tax gatherers and their soldiers would be less alert.
Temuge muttered angrily under his breath. He cared nothing for Chen Yi’s problems. His task was to get to the docks as quickly as possible before making his way to the city. Ho Sa had said it was only a few hours’ walk on a good road, but the alien sights and sounds all around him were making Temuge nervous and he wanted to be moving. The crew too had grown tense as they found a place where they could moor and wait their turn on the rickety dock.
The river port was not impressive to look upon, no more than a few dozen wooden buildings seeming to lean upon each other for support. It was a squalid little place, built for trade rather than comfort. Temuge did not mind that, but he could see a pair of well-armed soldiers keeping an eye on everything that was unloaded and he did not want to come to their attention.
He heard Chen Yi speak in low tones to his crew, clearly giving orders as they ducked their heads with sharp gestures. He struggled to hide his irritation at another delay. He and his companions would soon be off the river and away from this peculiar little world he did not understand. For a short time, he had wondered if he could buy illustrated manuscripts in the boat market, but there was no sign of such a trade and he had no taste for ingots of silver or carved figurines. Those items were held out in the dirty fists of boys, paddling out in reed coracles to the side of any new vessel. Temuge looked stonily past the urchins until they passed on. His mood was black by the time Chen Yi came to the stern to speak with his passengers.
“We must wait until there is a space on the docks,” he said. “You will be on your way before midnight, or a few hours later.” To Temuge’s annoyance, the little man nodded to Khasar.
“If you did not eat so much, I would take you on as crew,” he said. Khasar did not understand him, but he clapped Chen Yi on the shoulder in reply. He too was impatient to be going on, and the little master sensed the mood of his passengers.
“If you wish, I can find a place on the carts to take you to the city. It will be a fair price,” he said.
Temuge saw the man was watching them closely. He had no idea whether the journey to Baotou was an easy one or not, but he suspected a merchant as he claimed to be would not turn down the offer of a ride. The idea of traveling further with Chen Yi’s suspicious gaze on him made him uncomfortable, but he forced a smile and replied in the Chin tongue.
“We will say yes to you,” he said. “Unless your unloading is long.”
Chen Yi shrugged. “I have friends here to help. It will not take long. You are impatient for merchants, I think.” He smiled as he spoke, but his eyes remained fixed on them, taking in every detail. Temuge was thankful that Khasar could not understand. His brother was easier to read than a map.
“We will decide later,” Temuge said, turning away to make sure Chen Yi knew he was dismissed. The man might have left them alone, but Khasar pointed to the soldiers on the dock.
“Ask him about those men,” he said to Ho Sa. “We want to get past them and I think he does as well. Ask him how he is going to unload without them noticing.”
Ho Sa hesitated, unwilling to let Chen Yi know they had guessed his cargo was illegal or untaxed. He did not know how the man would react. Before he could speak, Khasar snorted.
“Chen Yi,” he said, pointing at the soldiers again. The master of the boat reached up and pressed Khasar’s arm down before the gesture could be seen.
“I have friends on the docks,” he said. “There will be no trouble here. Baotou is my city, where I was born, do you understand?”
Ho Sa translated and Khasar nodded.
“We should keep this one in view, brother,” he said to Temuge. “He can’t betray us while he unloads, or he would draw too much attention to whatever we’ve been sitting on for the last few weeks.”
“Thank you for your interest, Khasar,” Temuge replied, his voice acid. “I have considered what to do. We will take his offer of a trip to the city and get in the walls with him. After that, we will find our men and head back.”
He spoke knowing Chen Yi could not understand, but it was still with a sense of foreboding. Finding the masons of Baotou was one part of the plan they could not predict back in the Xi Xia kingdom. No one knew how easy they would be to locate, or what dangers the city would present. Even if they were successful, Temuge was still not sure how they would bring unwilling prisoners out when a cry for help might bring soldiers running. He considered the wealth of silver Genghis had given him to ease their passage.
“Will you be returning to the river, Chen Yi?” he said. “We may not stay long in the city.”
To his disappointment, the man shook his head.
“I am home now and there are many things I must do. I will not leave again for many months.”
Temuge remembered how much they had been charged for the passage, as if Chen Yi had been reluctant to go so far.
“So you were always coming here?” he asked, outraged.
Chen Yi grinned at him. “Poor men do not go to Baotou,” he replied, chuckling. Temuge glared at him until he strolled back to his crew.
“I do not trust him,” Ho Sa murmured. “He does not worry about soldiers on the docks. He is carrying something valuable enough to risk an armed attack, and he is well known to every other boatman in Baotou. I do not like this at all.”
“We will be ready,” Temuge said, though the words had thrown him into a panic. The men on the docks and the river were all enemies and he hoped to pass unseen amongst them. Genghis had pinned his hopes on them, but at times it seemed he had set an impossible task.
The moon rose as a frozen sliver of white, casting only a faint sheen on the water. Temuge wondered if Chen Yi had planned their arrival with even more care than he had realized. The dark night was a hindrance at first as Chen Yi untied the ropes that held them to a river post and sent two of the crew to work a steering oar off the stern. As it swished back and forth, Chen Yi himself used a long pole to create a path through to the docks. Sleepy men swore at him as the pole thumped into wood, the noise muffled in the dark. Temuge thought the moon had moved by the time they were in reach of the dock itself, though Chen Yi had barely broken sweat from his labors.
The docks were dark, though some of the wooden buildings still showed light in their windows and they could hear laughter somewhere within. The yellow glow from those places was all Chen Yi seemed to need to find his place on the dock, and he was the first to leap out on the wooden pilings, a rope in his hand to tie up the boat. He had not ordered silence, but none of the crew talked as they dismantled the sail. Even the noise of them throwing open the hatches down to the hold was
muffled.
Temuge let out a long, relieved breath to have reached land, but at the same time, he felt his pulse increase. A few shadowy figures could be seen, lounging or sleeping. Temuge squinted at them, wondering if they were beggars, whores, or even informers. The soldiers he had seen would surely be ready for night landings. Temuge feared a sudden shout or a rush of armed men that would be the end of everything they had accomplished so far. They had reached the city Genghis had wanted, or at least the closest point on the river to it. Perhaps because they were so near to their goal, he became convinced it would all come to nothing, and he scrambled past the others to step over the side onto the wooden planking, stumbling as he did so. It was Ho Sa who took his arm to steady him, while Khasar vanished in the dark.
Temuge wanted nothing more than to leave the boat and its crew behind, but he still worried that Chen Yi might betray them. If the master of the boat had understood the significance of Khasar carrying a Mongol bow, the information might buy him out of trouble. In a strange land, even with Ho Sa’s help, they would be hard pressed to avoid a hunt, especially one that knew they were heading for Baotou.
A creaking sound came out of the darkness, making Temuge reach for his knife. He forced himself to relax as he saw two carts approaching, drawn by mules whose breath fogged the cold air. The drivers stepped down and spoke in low voices to Chen Yi, one of them chuckling as they began to unload the little boat. Temuge could not help but strain his eyes to see what was coming from it, but he could not make out details. Whatever the men carried was heavy, judging by the sounds they made as they lifted it. Temuge and Ho Sa found themselves drifting closer, drawn by curiosity. It was Khasar who spoke out of the dark, passing by with a dark mass on his shoulder.
“Silk,” he hissed at Temuge. “I felt the end of a roll.” They heard him grunt as he heaved the weight onto the closest cart before returning to them.
The Khan Series 5-Book Bundle Page 58