The Great Khan Ch. 05

"I heard wolves earlier," Khorijin replied, still looking outward, and barely acknowledging her sister-wife's presence. "And that did not sit well with me."

"We are too many for wolves to attack, even in packs," Toragana reasoned. "And this time of year is a glut for them, there is game to be had. What need would they have to attack us?"

"You may have some minor skill with a blade, but you lack a warrior's sensibilities still," replied the Tengger woman. Her words were a statement of fact, not meant to be a taunt. She was declaring her authority on an issue Toragana had yet to recognize. "The wolves are not hunting us, they are following others."

"Others."

Khorijin nodded, her expression grim. "Wolves may hunt, but they are also scavengers of opportunity. They gather because they sense a chance to feed on corpses."

"Ours?"

"Not if I can help it." Khorijin replied. "I am not dying on these damnable sands for the likes of you."

"Then who?" Toragana pressed. "Who seeks our death?"

Khorijin did not answer for several seconds, simply gazing out at everything around her. "It is flat here. There is no cover. We cannot help but be seen, but this means no one can surprise us either, if we are vigilant."

"Who, Khorijin?"

"That old bastard back at your settlement," murmured the warrior-woman. "Did he not say that they were being raided by a clan to the South, the Khoton?"

"Yes," confirmed Toragana. "Do you believe they intend to attack us?"

"Someone intends to, I am certain of it." Khorijin said. "My brothers and I, we have a feeling for these things. It is why the Tengger are almost never taken unawares. Enemies come, and carrion wolves follow. It will not be long now."

"Will they attack at night?"

"No, they would lose sight of us," mused Khorijin. "The clouds are thin, but they cover the moon and stars tonight. We could easily disappear before they found us. To pin us down, they will need the sun. They must outnumber us, though I know not by how much. You should get inside the ger."

"No," Toragana said firmly. "If we must face foes, I will not hide. I will fight as a khan and die as one if necessary."

Khorijin grunted in amusement. "Brave words."

"Words I will back with action. If I am to die, I will make sure Boldbator is proud of me."

"Suit yourself," Khorijin said unconcernedly. "But you will obey my instructions when it comes to defending our encampment."

"You are the authority in that regard, and I will trust to it." Toragana said readily. "Tell me what to do."

Khorijin nodded. "My arvahn and I will provide the initial line of defence. We will meet any concentrated attacks as best we may, first with bow and then with blade. It is our duty to keep them from approaching us at all."

"What would you have me do?"

Seconds of silence from Khorijin as she considered. "They will doubtless outnumber us. And some are bound to break through. It will fall to you, sister, to be the last guard before the entrance to the ger. I will help as I may, but even I cannot be everywhere at once."

Toragana nodded. It would be no easy thing, defending the people within the ger. She would not be mounted and her foes most likely would be.

"I do not know which directions the attack will come from, so you must be vigilant," Khorijin continued. "Walk around the ger constantly, always aware of the fighting. Keep your bow ready, as well as javelins, because knocking them from their mounts may be your only chance."

"Will they use fire arrows?" asked Toragana.

Khorijin pursed her lips. "I do not think so. Our little band would present no worthwhile bounty, unless we carried something valuable with us. And we seek to defend one little ger. That alone should convince them to not burn it."

"That is something, at least."

The thin wind carried another howl. Toragana's blood was chilled to hear it. It now sounded like doom to her.

"Prepare yourself," Khorijin said tersely. "There is little more than two hours of sunlight left to them. If they attack, it will be soon. If night descends, we will strike our position and ride hard under the cover of darkness. Perhaps we can lose them."

Toragana could only hope for the latter outcome.

***

Alas, it was not to be. Twilight was almost upon them when ululating war-cries were heard to the north and east. Four of Khorijin's warriors faced those directions, while the last two kept a vigil to the west and south, looking for further danger. Khorijin rode back and forth tirelessly, exhorting her men and bolstering their spirits.

She understood that nothing wore on a man's nerves like waiting for battle. It became a physical ache, a yearning to come to grips with the foe, anything to end the anxiety and tedium of waiting. Men became parched with thirst, irritable and breathed heavily. The release of battle was what they craved, no matter the odds.

Toragana walked slowly around the ger¸ now aware of the threat and where it came from. But until they were close, she would not cease her patrol. She had a small suspicion Khorijin had told her to do this as a way of occupying her, but she obeyed all the same. There was too much at stake to risk unnecessary disobedience of a sensible order.

"Their attack will be coordinated, coming from the two directions at once," Khorijin had explained. "Once they break through our defences, they will make directly for the ger to seize it, and whatever lies within. You must make sure they die in the attempt."

Horns and war-cries, and the thunder of hooves. Before long, the whine of arrows reached her, coming from the north. She kept walking, but dared to glance north. She could see horsemen in the distance, although she could not determine their number. Khorijin's warriors were watching warily from horseback, occasionally drawing their bows and firing arrows, as if to warn the enemy to keep their distance.

She could see the problem, though. Once the foe decided to attack, they could release showers of arrows, and quickly kill off the defenders if they stayed put. But in moving around to protect themselves, they were opening the way to an attack against the ger. How were they supposed to stay alive long enough to defend it when they were outnumbered so?

The answer was audacity. Khorijin sent her men forward on their fleet ponies, skirting the enemy to distract them, while she presented a threat in front. Toragana could not help but think that the attackers knew who she was, and that they were staying a respectful distance from her.

How did they know Khorijin was here? What else did they know?

And who had told them?

There were wild cries and the clash of steel to the east. Her head snapped around and she saw a wild melee, where Khorijin's warriors were engaged in close combat with a small knot of enemy horsemen. The Tengger warriors were holding their own, but at least three horsemen broke through and thundered past them, heading straight for the ger. One was brought low by Khorijin, who twisted around in her saddle while at a full gallop and shot him right off his mount at the very edge of her bow's range, even while she harassed the foes to the north.

Toragana found herself in awe of the Tengger woman's instinct for battle. She wondered if she could ever hope to match it.

Two more came on, and she had ducked around the side of the ger, listening for their approach. They were very close when she stepped out and cast a javelin she was holding, the missile leaping forward and punching through the throat of one of her foes. He tumbled backwards, his feet caught in his stirrups, and was now flopping alongside his panicked pony, who galloped in circles, snorting and whinnying. This gave the other rider a momentary pause, and it was enough for Toragana to attack.

The man raised his shield to defend himself, but she had rushed in and leapt haphazardly at him, a knife in her hand. Her yataghan, though longer, would have proven unwieldy at this extremely close range, and she knew she did not have the requisite skill to fight that way. She crashed into him and there was cursing as a confused struggle ensued. But within seconds, Toragana managed to drag the curved blade of her khirris across his throat, and the man gurgled and died in a welter of blood.

Toragana fell off to the side and scrambled to her feet hastily, in case another attack came. Her heart thundered in her chest and she tried to control her breathing, shaking her head to clear it. She slipped her knife back into its sheath and took up her bow as it leaned against the ger. She hunkered down low, knowing her best chance to kill the foe was if they did not see her.

One of the Tengger warriors fell fighting the foes in the north, and Khorijin's whooping call led her guard in the west to turn and speed toward the fight, leaving the vigil to the man facing south. Khorijin herself dashed in and rode around the edge, sniping at exposed warriors who were engaged in fighting her troops.

Whoever the attackers were, quite possibly the Khoton, they had clearly been relying on brute force and numbers to achieve their objective, for there was little in the way of tactics to counter. Toragana could not help but wonder who had informed them of their presence in these remote lands. But she would find out.

Two more broke off from the fighting and made toward the coveted ger. Khorijin ignored them, trusting to Toragana's promise to defend the center somehow, and attacked from behind, laying about with her curved blade like a demon, blood flying in ribbons from it. In spite of their superior numbers, the attackers in the north suddenly found themselves on the defensive. The superlative skill of the Tengger warriors had blunted their assault.

Toragana waited and finally stepped out, aiming and shooting at one man with her bow. She was off the mark, though, and the missile only creased his bicep as it sped by. Still, it was enough to slow his advance, and he pulled about as he tried to ascertain how hurt he was. The other man came on, and she had no time to nock a second arrow. She dived aside wildly as he leaned in and swiped at her with his sword.

Once again, she scrambled to her feet, fearing that he might trample her. She dodged another blow, wishing she could reach her shield. He got close again, and she jumped out of the way, not far from the flap entrance of the ger. Still mounted, the man kicked at her with his sturdy boot, knocking the wind from her and putting her on her back, dazed. She tried to roll over and rise, moving slowly. He laughed gruffly, his eyes glinting with amusement, now that it was obvious she was a woman.

He raised his sword for a stroke, but stiffened, his eyes wide, as three javelin points burst through his chest, spraying a gout of blood. His horse shrieked and dashed, leaving him behind to fall on the hard earth. Cries of panic from inside the ger could be heard, and whoever had been using the javelins to kill the man from behind just released the weapons and retreated within, leaving Toragana alone again.

Wheezing, she clambered to her feet and staggered over to retrieve another javelin, her head still spinning from the impact of her last fall. She felt queasy, and fought to control herself. Her sister's life was at stake here! Gritting her teeth, she gazed out toward the east again, trying to ascertain what was happening. The wild melee continued, and there was little she could do about it.

Khorijin's last reserve warrior galloped east now. She was apparently convinced that there was no further threat aside from these two groups. The attack seemed to have stalled in the face of the determined and skilled defence. Now all that remained was a test of endurance and who could better endure the wounds they inflicted on one another.

Deprived of her mount, Khorijin was fighting on foot, wading between the stamping and kicking horses like they posed no particular threat to her. Indeed, they seemed not to, as she wrenched men violently from their saddles and killed them with her keen blade. The combat to the north seemed to be well in hand.

The situation in the east looked tenuous to Toragana. The Tengger men were flagging; she could tell by the way they were fighting. There was only so much their skill could do before the numbers began to tell.

Her decision made, Toragana dashed over and leaped onto her horse, riding it out of the makeshift pen and heading east. She skirted around the fight, trying to get behind the Khoton attackers, and readied her bow. With grim determination, she began firing arrows at them, doing everything she could to avoid hitting her own men, and concentrating on shooting the outliers of the battle.

Three men died before the rest became acutely aware of the danger to their rear, one turning about and deservedly getting slain for his distraction. Her horse walked closer, allowing her easier aim. Another arrow punched through the tough leather backplate of a Khoton and he wailed as he died. Heartened by the reinforcement, the Tengger warriors redoubled their efforts against the foe.

In the north, only three men had managed to flee from the failed assault, and while two of Khorijin's warriors gave chase, she led the other three to the fray in the east barrelling into the Khoton flank and hacking them down savagely. The melee quickly became a rout, and Toragana whooped with triumph as she continued to shoot at the fleeing forms of the Khotons. Khorijin pursued, determined to let none escape. Night had descended when the warriors were gathered back at the ger, ready to assess the damage.

One Tengger warrior was dead, another two injured seriously. Four more had light wounds, and two ponies were injured or crippled to the point that they would need to be killed out of mercy. Two foes had been captured, one of them injured almost to the point of death, while the second was relatively unharmed. He glowered at them now as he sat on the rough earth, his hands and feet bound.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you." Khorijin said to the man, her normally tan features unusually pale, thanks to the gash across her bicep and shoulder. The blood had stopped flowing and was now replaced with a throbbing ache, one that she had yet to treat.

He scowled at her and spat in her face as she got too close. Khorijin said nothing, but wiped the effluence from her face and sighed. She walked over to her horse and retrieved something from her side pack on the saddle. When she returned, she held the item up for examination. It was a rather impressive ivory phallus.

Let's try this, then," she suggested. "Give me one good reason not to destroy your ass with this and leave you bleeding and you bleeding for the wolves to find."

The man still said nothing, but Toragana could tell he was frightened.

"Believe me, I will do it without a second thought." Khorijin said almost causally. "The wolves will probably start eating you while you're still alive, because they prefer fresh prey. Cooperate, though, and I'll kill you quickly. Be especially cooperative, and I might even let you live on in bonds. Your choice. You've got until I come back from dressing my wound."

She turned on her heel and walked away. The man watched her depart and then turned to look at Toragana, who stood nearby. She had already removed her helmet and now unwrapped the long black scarf she had wrapped around her head. She saw the man looking at her and shrugged.

"She is Khorijin, sister of Khan Boldbator," she mentioned. "I think we both know she's not bluffing. What remains now is simply a question of how much agony you will die in."

She could see the anxiety building in his eyes and said nothing further, leaving him to stew in his own fears. There was no worse death for a Mongol than to die on the cold steppe, your carcass mauled by the wolves and other scavengers.

It was not long before Khorijin returned, her face somewhat less pale, and her expression grim. She was also out of patience. One of her warriors hauled the prisoner roughly to his feet and she stood in front of him. By now, the fear in his eyes was evident. She grunted in amusement.

"So, how have you chosen to die, Khoton scum?" she asked. She may have sounded casual, but Toragana knew that they were pressed for time. This battle, small though it was, would not remain unnoticed for long. And there were still wolves and other predators to deal with.

"Shall we start with your useless little cock?" Khorijin mused, pressing the blade of her khirris against the man's trousers. He shivered in fright and whimpered. "Throw it to the wolves as a taste of what's to come?"

"No, please!" he gasped as she pressed the knife harder. "I'll tell you what you want to know!"

She let the knife drop away from his crotch. "Very well. You have attacked the Tengger clan with impunity. For that, your clan's right to exist is forfeit. Tell me where they are encamped."

He swallowed, trying to compose himself. He was sweating profusely. "Two- two day's ride to the southwest."

"You came from behind us, from the east, and the north." Khorijin countered.

"We knew of your approach many days ago, and we determined that we would take you at unawares if we flanked you. We determined that you would least expect an attack from the east, since those are Sukh lands."

"Who told you of our approach?" she asked sharply, her temper flaring.

The man said nothing.

"Pull his pants down!" she snarled. Her men complied and pulled the prisoner's legs apart. Without another word, and while the captive struggled in panic, Khorijin took the phallus and jammed it inside him. He screeched in pain.

"Who... told... you?" she growled, standing and gripping his cheeks in her fingers and glaring into his watering eyes.

"E-Ergil," he wheezed, his body shaking. "Ergil, elder of the Gantulga family!"

Khorijin's head snapped around to glower at Toragana, who met her gaze steadily and nodded.

"I promise you he will die at least as unpleasantly as this man for his betrayal, sister."

"Good luck with that," she muttered. "This shit is proving unhelpful."

"What else do you want to know?" he almost whined, still squirming.

"We have killed over twenty of your warriors," Khorijin replied. "How many more remain?"

The man didn't respond immediately. He cried out loudly as a one of her warriors rammed his knee up into his behind, spearing the phallus deeper inside him.

"No more than ten!" he sobbed, sagging in his captor's grip. "Ten... we knew about the treasure and sent most of our warriors to take it from you... please..."

"There, was that so difficult?" Khorijin reasoned as he took the man by the hair and pulled, craning his head back and exposing his neck. Without a thought, she struck the stout butt of her knife into his throat, cracking his larynx. The soldier holding the captive released him and he fell to the ground convulsing as he began choking, gasping and turning blue. Khorijin simply watched impassively, while Toragana grimaced and watched her sister-wife. More than a minute passed before the man finally stopped moving, his sightless eyes staring at the blue-black vault far above.

"We should keep moving, once our injured are seen to," the Tengger woman said finally. "While I believe a man in the throes of great pain and fear, I do not trust to his words completely. If they are as weak as he intimated, then we will be dealing with them on the way back."

"For daring to attack us," Toragana agreed, nodding. "And then we will stop to have words with Ergil."