by Alan Smale
Hadrianus looked just as surprised to see them. Decinius Sabinus was there, along with two tribunes Marcellinus did not know. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief that Agrippa apparently was dining in his own castra. Whatever was going on, it would surely be easier to resolve without the Praetor of the 27th in attendance.
“Tahtay and Taianita, welcome,” said the Imperator. “An unexpected pleasure. And Gaius Marcellinus.”
“Caesar.” Marcellinus bowed.
Decinius Sabinus got to his feet and bowed to Taianita, who smiled back at him. Marcellinus blinked. Both men knew her?
Hadrianus waved at the table behind him. “You will take wine?”
“I will,” Tahtay said to Marcellinus’s surprise, and moved to the table to pour. Equally unexpectedly, Taianita strolled over to the Imperator’s couch and perched on the end of it. Neither Hadrianus, Sabinus, nor his two tribunes reacted to this overfamiliarity, and with a moment of shock Marcellinus realized that Tahtay and Taianita were now more frequent visitors to the Imperator’s table than he might have supposed.
Tahtay brought wine and water to Marcellinus, handed a beaker to Taianita, then turned to the Imperator. “And so, Hadrianus, my friend, once again you have lied to me.”
The Imperator’s face was slightly red. It was not the drink but the blazing Hesperian sun of high summer. His sunburn and quizzical smile made him look a little comical. “Never before have I met a man who owned as little trust as you, Tahtay of Cahokia.”
Tahtay gave a short sharp laugh. “Trust? You say so? Futete!”
“Certainly.” Hadrianus raised his cup in toast. “As best I recall, I have not broken a promise to you this entire moon.”
“Huh.” Tahtay sipped his wine and for a moment seemed lost in thought. Then he nodded and spoke. “I am much saddened, Caesar. Truly, my heart grieves. Despite all the pain and violence between our peoples, over recent months I had begun to have hope. I had thought perhaps we were finally coming to an understanding, you and I. That this might not all end in bloodshed and ruin between your Romans and my people. But that is not so, is it?”
Sabinus looked wary. Hadrianus’s smile faded. “Tahtay, you will need to stop speaking in riddles if you expect me to answer.”
“There are many more Romans than you have told us of,” Tahtay said. “Many, many more. You have tried to delude me into believing your army will one day march away into the Grass, but they have shown few signs of doing so. And today I know why. It is because other Roman legions have already arrived, far to the west past the Great Mountains. They have slain thousands upon thousands of Hesperians and enslaved the rest. The rivers are running with blood, Caesar. The land itself is weeping.”
Tahtay stood upright, his face calm and his body controlled, but Marcellinus knew he must be surging with strong emotions to be using such words.
Hadrianus and his Praetor and tribunes sat so still that they might have been carved in stone. Tahtay nodded. “From your eyes I see that I am right.”
Now the Imperator leaned forward, his expression intent. “Where are they, these new armies you speak of? How do you know of them?”
“I am a savage,” Tahtay said brutally. “I am a barbarian. I am a redskin. So you call me, and perhaps I am. But I am not a fool, Caesar. Far from it. I can see that you have long known of this, and that confirmation is all I needed.” He drained his beaker and tossed it aside, and it clattered across the floor. “I must go and summon the clan chiefs and elders and decide what must be done. Because if Roma has already taken the west, you have lied to me from the very start. You have no need to leave Cahokia. Ever. And that, Cahokia cannot tolerate.”
“Wait, Tahtay.” Hadrianus swung his legs off the couch. “I beg of you: tell me what you know. I am in earnest. Please answer me.”
Tahtay’s brow furrowed. He said nothing.
“You may tell him, Gaius Marcellinus.”
Marcellinus looked carefully at his Imperator. “You release me from the oath I swore to you before Roma and Cahokia buried the ax?”
“Yes, yes, Marcellinus; you may speak candidly to Tahtay about the threat we face. Perhaps he will believe it more readily from you.”
Still Marcellinus hesitated. “We should call a council of the elders. All should—”
Tahtay spun and fixed him with a glare. “Merda, Hotah! Tell me now!”
“They are not Romans,” Marcellinus said. “The armies that have landed on Hesperia’s western shores are Roma’s implacable enemy, and will soon become enemies of Cahokia as they sweep across the land, destroying all in their path.”
Tahtay eyed him unblinking. Marcellinus went on. “They are called Mongols, and they are utterly ruthless. They come from a continent we call Asia, far across the ocean to the west. In Asia the Mongols have already defeated many nations—great kingdoms, territories of mighty chiefs, in all as broad in extent as the land from the Mizipi to the Atlanticus.”
Decinius Sabinus nodded, but everyone else in the room still stood or sat as if frozen. Marcellinus continued. “Caesar and his armies have fought long wars with the Mongols in Asia, trying to hold their forces in check and prevent them from sweeping over Europa and sacking its cities. Tahtay, I swear the truth of this to you. The Mongols are great warriors. They fight on horses, the same four-legs the Romans use. Their war chief, Chinggis Khan, is here to command his armies in person, just as Caesar commands the armies of Roma. And if the Mongols have already taken the whole western coast of Hesperia, and if the Blackfoot know of them now, it cannot be long before they break out beyond the Great Mountains and come flooding across the prairie to attack us here.”
“Merda…” Taianita frowned, shook her head, and gestured to Marcellinus: Speak true?
Marcellinus held her gaze and hand-talked back: I speak true. Wanageeska swears.
Tahtay’s eyes were wide. “Hotah, you, too, have fought these Mongols?”
“No.” Marcellinus had faced the armies of Kara Khitai, steppe warriors of a similar vein to the Mongols, and he had partnered with the Chernye Klobuki and Polovtsians of southern Rus. He was familiar with the horsemen of Asia but had never seen the armies of the Great Khan in battle. “But about the Mongols you may believe these men of Roma and what they say.”
“Asia is a huge land,” Decinius Sabinus said. “Marcellinus may be too cautious on this score. The sum of the Mongol homelands, added to their conquests of the Jin and Song Empires, may well be larger in extent than all of Nova Hesperia. And when the Mongols swept over the Asian lands before we beat them back, they must have slain twenty million people. That is twenty thousand-thousand.” He looked at Hadrianus. “More, you think?”
The Imperator shrugged. “Who’s to say? Millions upon millions of the Song alone.”
“Why? Why?” Tahtay shook his head. “It makes no sense. What would such men want? We do not know them. Why would they attack us?”
“Because that is what the Mongols do, Tahtay. They conquer.”
“It is true.” Marcellinus nodded. “War chief, we must hold a council. The Imperator and his Praetors, and myself, and you and your elders and clan chiefs. We must prepare for the Mongols. All of us together, as one.”
Tahtay looked at Hadrianus, then at Sabinus. Marcellinus hoped that the war chief wasn’t entering one of his funks. Again Marcellinus wished Kimimela were there; she could push him out of such states with a well-chosen word, often an insult. But Kimimela was across the river in Cahokia, and Taianita appeared lost in thought.
Now she raised her head. “Caesar. Speak. If this true, why you not tell us from very start?”
Hadrianus gestured to Marcellinus, who said, “The Imperator and his Praetors believed it would weaken their negotiating position with you and…complicate matters.”
“All my Praetors,” Hadrianus said. “As I recall, Gaius Marcellinus, you were in full agreement.”
Taianita turned to stare at Marcellinus.
“It’s true,” Marcellinus said. “I agreed,
and at the Imperator’s bidding I swore an oath not to tell Cahokia of the Mongols. An oath he has now relieved me of.”
Tahtay was gazing past Marcellinus at the wall behind him, but the look of scorn on Taianita’s face cut Marcellinus like a pugio blade.
“Worse than you?” Tahtay said at last. “The Mongols are worse than Romans? Worse than the Iroqua at their most terrible? Is that even possible?”
Sabinus smiled tightly. “Oh, yes, war chief. Did we not make peace with you, for all our flaws? Are we not talking now? The Mongols would make no such peace. The Mongols do not negotiate. They ride to war on their four-legs in the tens of thousands and cut down everyone in their path. If the Mongols had come to Cahokia in our place, they would have slaughtered or enslaved every person in your city. There would have been no discussion, no embassies or parleys or last-minute treaty mongering. I have seen them with my own eyes, and I give you my word: the Mongol Khan and his Horde are the most vicious and ruthless enemy I have ever faced.”
“Roma is kindness itself by comparison,” Hadrianus said sardonically.
“Huh.” Finally, Tahtay met the Imperator’s eye. After a long moment, he turned to Marcellinus. “These are all true words, Wanageeska? On your honor, on your oath?”
“Yes,” Marcellinus said. “I swear by all the people I love, all—”
“You would swear on your daughter’s life?”
Again the room went very quiet. The Imperator raised his eyebrows. Sabinus looked back and forth between Marcellinus and Tahtay. Taianita, her eyes large, now looked at the floor.
Marcellinus tried to keep his expression neutral. “Yes, I so swear.”
Tahtay studied him intently, then nodded.
Hadrianus rose and went to fetch the pitcher of wine himself. “And now, Tahtay, please tell me more of what you have heard from the western reaches of Nova Hesperia.”
“Death,” Tahtay said. “Cruel men in armor who ride horses and trample the people. They have killed countless Hesperians, laid waste to entire villages and towns, slain whole tribes. Others they have chained and forced to mine gold from the rivers and mountains.”
Sabinus nodded. “Merciless. Just as I said.”
“In what numbers? How many Mongols and where?”
Tahtay shrugged. “Was Enopay there to count? No. We do not know how many. More than enough to smash the tribes all up and down the western seacoast. They are everywhere, Caesar. They are in the north, where the winters are cold and the peoples carve and paint tall poles in bright colors. They are in the south, where it is always warm and the people fish and eat clams and live in plenty. I knew little of these peoples until they were destroyed, but now a number have fled across the mountains. They came up a river and over the mountains and down the other side into the valley where the Wemissori begins, and there they met the Shoshoni.”
“Shoshoni?” said Sabinus.
Tahtay grinned tautly. “The Shoshoni are the enemies of my other people, the Blackfoot. And then these Mongols pursued the western peoples over the mountains and fought a battle with the Shoshoni, who broke and came to the Blackfoot. They brought one thing, and you will want to see that thing, I think. Send word to the Blackfoot who waits at our canoe, and he will bring it here to you.”
The Imperator pointed at one of his Praetorians. “Make all haste to the Mizipi bank and bring the Blackfoot who waits at the canoe.”
“And show him all due respect,” Marcellinus added.
The Praetorian saluted and hurried from the room with a jangle of steel armor.
—
The Blackfoot unwrapped the bundle he had brought into the Imperial presence. Under the fabric was a long, slim tube of iron. Taianita frowned at it. “Is what?”
Tahtay was watching their eyes. “You have seen this before.”
As no one else seemed inclined to say anything, Marcellinus took the tube. He put his nose to the end and sniffed. “Yes, this is just like mine.”
“Yours?” said Tahtay.
“I did not make it. It is Mongol. I found it at the Market of the Mud.”
“What does it do, Wanageeska?” Taianita asked.
“It shoots fire,” Sabinus said. He pointed to one end. “Here sits a package of Jin salt, a black powder somewhat like your liquid flame. When ignited, it sends fire through the tube, blazing hot, and so it is known as a fire lance.” He studied the tube professionally. “This one has a very smooth bore. Well engineered.”
“The Mongols are coming,” Hadrianus said, eyes flashing. “And when they do, they will bring many of these.”
Taianita regarded him. “You are excited? War and death excite you?”
“Yes,” said the Imperator. “After all this time? Yes. After all the planning and journeying and endless logistics of legionary travel, war with a worthy foe is at hand. For my money, it cannot come soon enough.” He rubbed his hands together. “Well, then. Gentlemen, Taianita? I believe we must talk strategy.”
“If so…” Tahtay took a deep breath and boldly met the Imperator’s eye. “If so, Caesar, we must know all you know of Mongols. And there must be no more tricks. No more lies. You must swear that now, to my eyes. You understand?”
The room was silent. The Praetorians dropped their hands to their sword hilts as Tahtay approached the Imperator. Sabinus looked concerned.
Marcellinus forced himself to breathe. This was a dangerous moment. One did not simply confront an Imperator and demand honesty.
Yet of all who stood in the Praetorium, Hadrianus seemed the least perturbed. “Must I cut my flesh, Tahtay of Cahokia? Would you believe me then?” Without waiting for an answer, he gestured. The nearest Praetorian drew his pugio and handed it to his Imperator, hilt first. With no hesitation, the most powerful man in the world raised his left arm, allowing the sleeve to drop away and leave his skin bare.
His eyes met Tahtay’s. “And then, will you be as free with the truth as I and do all in your power to bring the Hesperian tribes to fight alongside Roma against these demons? Will you ally with me against them? If so, I will willingly swear an oath in blood, and share my blade with you.”
Tahtay looked at Marcellinus, and a moment later so did Taianita.
Marcellinus swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Now this had become his responsibility?
But of course it had to be.
Hadrianus was about as trustworthy as any Imperator. Blunt, ruthless, and perfectly capable of manipulating the situation to his advantage.
And although Marcellinus liked and admired Tahtay, the war chief had lied to him just as much as Hadrianus had.
But war with the Mongol Khan had made strange bedfellows in Asia and would do so here as well. Marcellinus no longer had any doubts where the true enemy lay in Nova Hesperia: it lay to their west, in Chinggis’s ruthless army. All the differences between Cahokia and Roma were as nothing compared with the atrocities committed by Chinggis and his men. They had left a trail of death, tens of millions of corpses, behind them in Asia. Such a thing must not be allowed to happen in Nova Hesperia.
From personal experience, Marcellinus also knew that an oath sworn in blood weighed upon a man’s soul like no other.
“You should swear,” he said. “Tahtay, Caesar, both of you. In good faith and in blood. And I will swear to help you both.”
“I should not ask the other chiefs?” Tahtay asked Taianita in Cahokian.
Taianita looked again at Marcellinus and read his eyes. To Tahtay she said: “No, Fire Heart. The Wanageeska has spoken. We must do what is right, and we must do it now.”
Nodding, Tahtay stepped forward and accepted the pugio from the Imperator.
The blade cut deep. Roman and Cahokian blood flowed once more and mingled.
Despite Tahtay’s promise when he had taken over as war chief of Cahokia, he had not completely done away with the Longhouse of the Sun on the top plateau of the Great Mound of Cahokia. He had dismantled it and left it in pieces for the rest of the year, but in the winter that f
ollowed he had rebuilt a much smaller version on the first plateau.
The new longhouse had no sheets of burnished copper to make it shine by day and no perpetual flame to light it at night, and Tahtay did not live there as his father had. The new longhouse was less than half the size of the Longhouse of the Wings at the Great Mound’s crest and was used solely for meetings of the elders and clan chiefs.
And it was this new Longhouse of the Sun that they stood in today, as the Imperator and Praetors of Roma and the paramount chief of Cahokia held their council of war.
It was the first time Hadrianus had been invited there. The Great Mound was sacred space, and the Romans had not brought weapons or armor. To get there the Imperator had ridden through the streets of Cahokia with Marcellinus and Tahtay on one side and Sabinus and Agrippa on the other. Hadrianus wore a white linen tunic with a pair of vertical purple stripes leading from his shoulders to its lower hem, and over this a fine sagum cloak despite the heat. Sabinus and Marcellinus wore simple Roman tunics and sandals. Sintikala wore a leather flying tunic and a band in her hair decorated with hawk feathers, with her leather falcon mask hooked over her belt. Tahtay, in a buckskin tunic and his red sash of the Fire Hearts, was the best-dressed person in the meeting.
This was not, after all, a full council of the ranking Cahokians. The elders were prone to ramble, and the clan chiefs would need a great deal of background information before they could fully comprehend the topic of conversation. Today’s council of war would include only Cahokians who were used to the Romans and were now at least partway knowledgeable about the crisis that faced them: Tahtay, Sintikala, Kanuna, Matoshka, Chenoa, Akecheta, and Mahkah. And Taianita, Kimimela, and Enopay, who were supposedly present only to help translate. On the Roman side, in addition to Sabinus and Agrippa, the Imperator had brought the First Tribune of the 27th, Mettius Fronto. Marcellinus had met Fronto infrequently but was impressed by his resolve; to Marcellinus’s eye, Fronto’s calmness and experience served as a useful counterweight to Agrippa’s impetuosity. Finally, there was Aelfric, included by virtue of his familiarity with both Roma and Cahokia.