Ruler of the Sky: A Novel of Genghis Khan

by Pamela Sargent

  Branches clawed at her. Yisui staggered to the hut, then sank to the ground; she could not escape on foot. Rage at Tabudai rose inside her; she struggled against it. He could not have defended her by himself, and it was less likely they would kill a woman. She wondered if he had been thinking of that, or only of his own fear.

  Ten horsemen emerged from the trees and trained their bows on her. “Mercy!” she cried, then pulled her scarf more closely around her face.

  “You won't die,” one man said. He waved an arm. “Follow the other one.” Five of the men moved off through the woods; the man who had spoken dismounted, walked towards her, and pulled her to her feet. “What is your name?”

  “Yisui,” she whispered, “daughter of Yeke Cheren.”

  The Mongol threw back his head and roared. “The Khan will reward us well for finding you.”

  She gaped at him, stunned. “Your Khan seeks me?”

  “Yes.” He pushed the scarf back from her face. “Now I see why.”

  “Too bad,” another man said. “We could have enjoyed her.”

  Yisui shuddered. The Khan could only want to claim a daughter of Yeke Cheren to mark his victory. She would have to endure the man who had destroyed her people.

  The five Mongols took Yisui down the hill to where other horsemen waited with several Tatars, all of them women and children. One man rode ahead to tell the Khan of their capture; the rest put the prisoners on spare horses and followed, stopping to graze the animals and to make camp. They reached her father's camp in three days, and by then the other five men had caught up with them, giving up the search for Tabudai.

  Yisui averted her eyes from the spiked heads near the camp, afraid she might see her father's. Her captors took her to Yeke Cheren's tent as the other prisoners were led away.

  A guard greeted them in front of the great tent. “Welcome, brothers,” he called out. “The Khan was pleased to hear of your find. He's hunting by the river—go there to ask for your reward, and leave the woman here.”

  Yisui dismounted. Another guard went up the steps and called out to those inside. Her hands trembled as she smoothed down her coat.

  “Yisui!”

  She looked up. Yisugen stood in the entrance, wearing the long pleated robe and high head-dress of a Noyan's wife. For a moment, Yisui imagined that she would step inside to find her mother by the hearth and her father seated near his bed. “Yisugen,” she whispered, then raced up the steps and threw herself into her sister's arms.

  They clung to each other, weeping with joy, unable to speak. At last Yisugen sent the other women away and led Yisui to a cushion.

  “I prayed they would find you,” Yisugen said. “When I was told they had, my heart nearly burst.”

  Yisui wiped at her face. The shock of seeing her sister faded as she understood why Yisugen was here. “I begged the Mongol Khan to search for you,” Yisugen continued, “and now you're with me, just as he promised.”

  “You asked him to look for me?”

  Yisugen nodded. “I told him I would give my own place to you, that you'd be an even better wife to him.”

  Yisui flinched. “I was with Tabudai.”

  Her sister gasped. “He's alive?”

  “We escaped to the hills together. When the Mongols found me, he fled on our horse.” Yisui's mouth twisted. “So now I'm to belong to our father's murderer.”

  “Yisui—”

  “Mother died at their hands—a witness told me so. The ground has closed over many of our people.”

  “We're together,” Yisugen said. “What else can we do except live how we can? Those still alive may need us to plead for them. My only chance to find you rested with our enemies—that's why I gave myself up.”

  Yisui recoiled. “You surrendered yourself?”

  Yisugen took her hand. “Mother told me to do it.” She looked away. “I was hiding in the hills, and Mother's spirit came to me in a dream. She told me our men had failed us, and that I had to seek safety however I could. She sent me here—I didn't know at first, when I surrendered myself, that I had found their Khan.” She took a breath. “Mother's spirit guided me to the heart of our enemy, and we can be no safer with anyone else. You're all I have left. Don't hate me because you were brought here.”

  “How can I hate you? I feared for you as much as you did for me. If we must belong to these people, better to be the women of their Khan than slaves to some other man.” Yisui slipped her hand from her sister's. “Your plea must have touched him. I wouldn't have thought there could be any kindness in such a man.”

  “It isn't kindness,” Yisugen murmured. “He may show kindness, but I don't know if he feels any pity or love. It amused him to bring you to me, and to claim us both. When he sees devotion, when he's pleased, he rewards those who serve him. I would never want to fail him, Yisui. If I did, one look from him would burn away my soul.”

  Yisui said, “And this is the man who would claim me.”

  “I'd rather seek the shelter of the eagle's nest than to have his shadow cover me before he strikes. He's the only shield we have now.”

  The Khan returned to the tent that evening with several of his men. One look at his strange, pale eyes told Yisui that her sister had spoken the truth. She shrank back as he circled her. Yisugen had given her a clean robe and head-dress, but the days in hiding could have done little for her looks.

  “So you are the sister,” he said, “whom my new wife begged me to find.” His soft voice terrified her. His eyes were like a cat's; he was toying with her, letting her know that only he could decide her fate. “She said,” he went on, “that she would give up her own place to you, should I choose to keep you.”

  “I pray that you will.” Yisui glanced at her sister, who was kneeling next to her; Yisugen's dark eyes were wide with doubt. He might give her away, part her from Yisugen, simply to show that he could.

  “Yes, I'll keep you.” He smiled. “My men went to some trouble to find you.”

  He went to the bed as she and Yisugen got to their feet. Women brought food and drink to the men; Yisui sat at the Khan's left, with Yisugen next to her. Yisugen whispered to her, pointing out each Noyan by name as the men drank and talked among themselves. Yisui thought of how her father's men had acted around him, warily, with cautious words; this Khan's men seemed at ease with him.

  The men had finished their food when the one named Mukhali stood up. “I'd accept more hospitality,” he said, “but you must be impatient to enjoy your new woman.” The others said their farewells and left. After the women had cleared away the platters and jugs, the Khan dismissed them.

  “I had my doubts,” he said, “when Yisugen asked me to look for you—I didn't think I'd find another with her beauty.” His handsome face wore a kindly expression, yet seemed like a mask; his eyes glittered like gemstones. “She told me you were recently wed.”

  “Yes,” Yisui murmured. “My husband fled when your men found me.”

  “It was good that he did. Yisugen made me promise to spare the lives of any who were found during the search, and it would have distressed me to let him live.”

  Yisui forced herself to look directly at him. “We were married for so short a time that I should be able to forget him.” She could not keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  He smiled, apparently pleased by her answer. Yisugen rose. “Where are you going?” the Khan asked.

  Yisugen looked away from him. “I only thought—”

  The Khan's eyes narrowed slightly. “I'm not about to banish you from my bed. You'll stay with us.”

  Yisugen gasped. “While you join with my sister?”

  “I can think of no better way for you to show your devotion to her. Surely it would ease things for her to have her beloved sister with us.”

  Yisui's cheeks burned. Yisugen's face was red; her hands fluttered. “It isn't fitting,” the younger girl said.

  “Are you telling me,” he said softly, “that I can't satisfy two wives?”

 
“Oh no—I would never say that.” Yisugen covered her mouth.

  “Then enough of this chatter.”

  Yisui stood up, blushing furiously. Her sister was already shedding her clothes. Yisui slowly slipped out of her own robe as the Khan undressed, then got into the bed and pulled the blanket over herself. It would be over soon; she would try not to think about it in the meantime.

  He got in next to her and drew the blanket away as Yisugen climbed in on the other side. Indecency, Yisui thought. He was only showing the power he had over both of them, that he could bring them to this. His hand cupped her breast and slid down to her belly. If she did not please him, both she and Yisugen might suffer for that. She waited, expecting him to take her at any moment, but he continued to stroke her belly and thighs, teasing her with his hand. In the shadows, she saw her sister's dark form press against him.

  “Be patient,” he whispered and she heard Yisugen sigh. His fingers found Yisui's cleft; her back arched as her legs fell apart. The warmth came in waves for, somehow, he had sensed what she wanted. She moaned, unable to struggle against the pleasure he was bringing to her, and drew up her knees, opening herself wider to him, not caring who he was or that her sister was near. Her hips rose to meet him as he entered; her sheath tightened around him. She cried out as the aching inside her flared; he groaned and trembled in her arms, thrusting deeply one last time before he groaned again, then withdrew.

  They were still, their bodies damp with sweat. He pulled the blanket over them and stretched out on his back; in the dim light, his face seemed gentler. Her hand slid down to his member, softer now, but still large against her palm.

  A hand brushed against hers as Yisugen reached for him. Yisui drew her hand away and curled up next to him. “You see,” he said, “It wasn't so shameful this way. You're much like your sister, and I know how to please her.”

  “Please me now,” Yisugen whispered.

  “Let me rest,” he said. “You promised to give up your place to Yisui, and already you want her pleasure for yourself.”

  “And you said you could please two wives.”

  He was silent for a while, then sighed as he turned towards Yisugen. Yisui ran her fingers along his spine, making bumps on his flesh. The faint light from the hearth flickered over his thigh and hip; his body hid her sister's. His hand dropped towards the other girl; Yisugen's long sigh was like the sound the wind made in the pines, and then her legs rose, knees out and spread wide, toes pointed towards the hearth.

  “Ah,” Yisugen sighed. “Ah.” Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. Yisui recalled how he had touched her and thought of what her sister must be feeling now. Her nipples hardened; her cleft was growing wet once more. The Khan knelt between Yisugen's thighs; the bed shook as Yisugen writhed under him. Yisui sighed; his head turned towards her. He had known, she thought; he had guessed what could bring them both to love him. Her sister moaned, locking her legs around him. Yisui closed her eyes, feeling Yisugen's pleasure inside herself.

  74

  The Khan soon moved west to Lake Buyur, where his herds grazed the grasslands and his men hunted the ducks and cranes that summered in the marsh. The Onggirats to the north of the Khan's encampments made no move against the Mongols who had ravaged their Tatar allies, and the Khan sent no warriors against his first wife's people.

  By then, Yisugen had been given her own tent, taken from another Tatar chief, and her dwelling was raised next to Yisui's.

  When the sheep grew fatter, the Mongols would hold a feast to celebrate their victory; until then, the Khan was content to hunt and rest with his two new wives. The sisters had pleaded with him for their cousins and other prisoners they knew, and he had given many of them to his close comrades.

  Yisui refused to dwell on the past. The times when she wanted to cover her face and weep came less often. The Tatars who had survived would be Mongols now. The children were rapidly forgetting their lost fathers and brothers; the women did the same work for their new masters as they had for the old. Tengri had willed it, and made Temujin His sword.

  She was fortunate to be his woman. She had heard many stories of his earlier life, of how he had rescued his chief wife from captivity, and it was easier not to think of the husband who had abandoned her. His men talked of how he gave the greater share of any spoils to them, and she remembered that her father had always demanded more for himself. Temujin spoke often of how pleased he was with the two devoted sisters, and proved it by seeing that they lacked for nothing.

  He was her only shield; Yisugen had said it. She meant to cling to that shield until all the ghosts of the past were vanquished.

  Temujin stirred next to her. He had come to Yisui alone, and she had missed her sister's presence.

  She leaned over him and pressed her lips against his, then drew back. “What's this?” he asked.

  “Something my people do.” He would not want to hear that she had learned it from Tabudai. She kissed him again, opening her mouth a little. “It's said we learned it from the people of Khitai.”

  “Then you should have shown me this before. I'm someone who enjoys learning new things.” He pulled her down and covered her mouth with his; he was learning quickly.

  She guided his hand to her cleft and moved against him. From the ashes he had made of her people, she and her sister had rescued one thing from the fire, the bond they had with each other. That he loved them both made it easier to love him; he was the thread that now bound them together. A few nights ago, she had guided his member into Yisugen and held him tightly as he took his pleasure. At other times, Yisugen would kneel next to her, parting Yisui's legs for him; she remembered how her sister's hands felt against her thighs.

  She knelt over him and encased him in her sheath, riding him until the waves of pleasure passed. In the darkness, she heard the movements of the slaves Temujin had allotted to her. Usually they did not enter the great tent until dawn; she remembered that the camp would be feasting today.

  Yisui got up and dressed, then went to the hearth. Women knelt on the floor, folding up the tent's felt panels at the bottom so that the warm air could flow more freely. A woman at the hearth handed her a bowl of broth, which Yisui carried to the Khan. Temujin had given her Tatar slaves from distant camps, people she did not know, which made it easier not to pity them.

  Temujin finished his meal, then pulled on his clothes. “There's one thing I dislike about summer,” Yisui said, “The nights are too short.”

  He grinned as he stood up. “And if they were longer, I'd sleep even less.” She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his broad chest. Yisugen still feared him, but Yisui had lost her fear, sure of her hold on him.

  He left the tent. The women hurried outside to join the others preparing food for the feast. Yisui followed, and found the Khan among the day guard; Borchu hastened towards them with another man.

  “Jetei has ridden here from your mother's camp,” Borchu said. “He tells me he has news of your son Tolui.”

  Yisui walked towards the men. “What news do you bring?” the Khan asked.

  “Good news,” Jetei replied, “although it might have been otherwise. Bortai Khatun sent Tolui to stay with his grandmother for a time, and I was one of those who rode there with the boy. A wanderer came to your mother's yurt, while she was talking with Boroghul's wife Altani. The stranger begged her for food, and Hoelun Khatun brought him inside to her hearth. Your son entered the yurt, and then this man seized him and held a knife to his throat, saying that he was Khargil-shira of the Tatars and that the boy would pay for his father's deeds.”

  Several guards cursed. Temujin's face was taut; Yisui saw the rage in his eyes. “Go on.”

  “The Tatar dragged Tolui from the yurt. Altani and the Khatun raced after him. Your mother screamed for help, and Altani grabbed the man by a braid and twisted the knife from his hand. Jelme and I were outside slaughtering a bullock, and when we heard their cries, we ran to their aid. Altani had nearly cl
awed the man's face to shreds by the time we killed him with our axes.”

  “You and Jelme will be rewarded for what you've done,” Temujin said, “and Altani will have her reward as well.” He paused. “I might have lost my son. The Tatars I hold here will pay for that. I showed too much mercy before. Every Tatar boy who remains with us, even the babies in their cradles, will die.”

  “No!” Yisui cried out. “You can't be so cruel! They don't deserve—” The Khan's eyes flickered towards her; his face paled.

  “I've been too easy with my new wife. It seems she wishes to speak her last words.” His soft voice cut at her like a knife. “She hasn't yet learned her place. Perhaps I should have left her body in the forest where she was found.”

  The men stared at her in silence. The women at the fires beyond the tent were still as they clung to the lambs they had brought there to kill for the feast. “Shall I give the order?” Borchu asked at last.

  Yisui knelt and held out her hands. “I beg my husband to listen to me first.”

  “More pity.” The Khan's lip curled. “My mother's pity for a stranger nearly cost me my son.”

  “It isn't pity.” She struggled to find her voice. “I only—” The men near her were shaking their heads; Yisui caught her breath. “Many boys are your captives. In the years to come, they'll be your soldiers. You would lose all those future servants by killing them now. Does the hawk strike at his fledgelings?”

  “Utter one more word, woman,” he said softly, “and you'll become a spot of blood on the ground, and your sister will embrace you in the grave. I won't keep a wife who would remind me so much of the one who displeases me so greatly now.”

  She heard a cry. Her sister was suddenly at her side; Yisugen knelt and threw her arms around Yisui. The Khan smiled mirthlessly as he watched them. He was enjoying this, letting them know how quickly he could crush them; she felt as though his blade was at her throat.

  “The Khan must do as he wishes,” Yisugen said faintly, then pressed her forehead against the ground.