The Great Khan Ch. 06

"What?!" Khorijin demanded, turning around and scowling at the threesome. "What is so funny? Is the fact that I am being boiled alive funny?"

"You're not being boiled alive," Toragana chided, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You're much tougher than Solongo or myself, and we can handle this. The difference is, we want to. You're doing your best to make it a miserable experience for yourself and the rest of us. If you'd just relax, sister, and ease yourself into the water, you'll find you adapt to it very quickly. That's it... just ease down slowly..."

Khorijin's eyes were rather wide as she settled down slowly, bracing her arms on the edge of the wooden tub, in case she needed to launch herself out of it quickly when the water attacked. She couldn't believe how red her skin was getting, even the parts not yet touching the water. She was already covered in sweat.

"The same thing happened to Solongo and I when we got in," Toragana assured her, watching while using her hands to finger both her sister and Galina. "It passes quickly, if you relax, I promise. If we could do it, then you can do it. You are mightier than any of us."

Khorijin had now settled down into a sitting position in the water, fighting the urge to leap back out. She wasn't about to be shown up by these Sukh women and a Chinese whore. But she was still tensed, not at all certain about how one was to relax when they felt like dinner in a pot.

"Settle into the water, and close your eyes, sister," Toragana said softly, trying to help. Maybe Galina had been torturing her, but Toragana didn't want to put up with Khorijin being bitchy and complaining the whole trip back about how stupid and painful baths were. "Lean your head back and just calm your body."

Against her will, Khorijin complied, closing her eyes and settling in, the water now past her breasts, and then her collarbone. "You will not try to drown me?"

"If you drown, how would we get home?" Toragana reasoned.

Stupid Sukh bitch and her logic, Khorijin thought to herself as she tried to relax. As her thoughts turned inward, she noticed that the heat remained, but bothered her less with each passing moment. She had burned herself with hot water before, and even boiling oil, and this water was nowhere near as hot as that.

She felt drowsy, and she hated to admit it, but she did indeed feel her muscles relaxing. The myriad knots from the seemingly-endless ride began to undo themselves, and the scent of the cedar and the aromatics in the water helped her body calm itself. For Mongols, bathing was at best a quick affair with water poured over oneself, unless a river or stream was handy, and then it was ice-cold. This was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life.

"Better?" she heard Toragana asked. She nodded lazily, her eyes still shut as she craned her neck back. She felt the water around her shift and heard movement. Seconds later, she felt Toragana's hand on the back of her head, easing it forward slightly.

"This will make it even more pleasant, sister," Toragana said quietly as she slipped a small, folded-up linen square beneath Khorijin's neck, protecting it from the edge of the wooden basin. Involuntarily, Khorijin moaned her approval. Mai did her best to not giggle and ruin the moment. She relaxed even more, her mind drifting as the water caressed and hugged her weary body.

Toragana, meanwhile, had returned to the other side of the basin and was once again cuddled in between Solongo and Galina, the three of them fondling and kissing again, just enjoying their time together. They'd been kissing and fingering one another for some time before Khorijin finally spoke.

"What's a girl gotta do to get her tits sucked and her cunt fingered around here?" she mumbled, her face still pointed at the distant, dark ceiling.

Still giggling, the three women moved across the tub, relieved that Khorijin had finally come around.

***

A large ring had been formed by the two clans, while each debated as to whom their champion would be. Off to the side where the musicians were sitting, the Uyghur scribes now sat dutifully, ready to record everything they witnessed. They could not be bribed to tell untruths, and if they were threatened or harmed, word would spread, and the Uyghur people would never work for the offending Mongol clan again.

Boldbator, Kula, Gerel, and a few of the other members of the keshig stood in a small circle, discussing the situation. Boldbator listened while the others made their arguments back and forth, his eyes closed. He had instructed there was to be no arguing or boasting, simply claims made and backed up with solid reasoning for the choice. He knew that on the other side of the circle, the Taichiud were doing the same. The lives of many thousands on both sides would be affected by this simple decision.

"Gerel should fight," stated Ondar, one of the keshig members. "He is a formidable warrior, as we all know, but also, should he be slain, then we still have Boldbator to lead us into whatever the future holds, even as vassals of these Taichiud dogs."

"I think I should fight for the same reason," Kula grunted. "I am very nearly my brother's equal with a blade, and should I fall, it is no loss to the leadership of our tribe. Gerel is a mighty warrior, it's true, but I've always had his measure in our matches, and remain undefeated."

"That is true," Gerel acknowledged, bowing his head. "I am not our lord's equal in battle. If he so wishes, it should be Kula who fights for our honour. But I am indeed willing, if our khan has other plans for his brother."

A warrior rode over from the Taichiud, stopping by the little group and nodding his head. "For our part, lord of the Tengger, we have chosen our champion. We now await you."

There was silence as the man trotted off, leaving everyone looking at Boldbator, who still stood there, his arms crossed, and his eyes closed in deep thought. Several moments passed before Kula spoke up. "What say you, brother? Who will fight for our clan? Gerel, or myself?"

The khan's eyes opened, and they had a steely quality to them. "These are my ambitions, brother, and they should die with me, if I am contesting the will of Heaven. I will fight their man. It is only proper."

And with that, he turned and began walking toward the Taichiud, alone. Everyone just stared in disbelief as their khan trudged fearlessly toward possible death, the end of his dreams.

"I will be the one standing for the Tengger," he announced loudly, his hand on the hilt of his yataghan. "Bring forth your warrior to his death."

Ambaghai frowned slightly, he hadn't been expecting Boldbator to do this. "And who will lead your clan without you, o khan?"

"Does it matter?" replied the warrior. "A woman, probably. It matters not, the Tengger destiny is decided here today."

The older man nodded solemnly, and then turned and made a beckoning motion. Chuckles were heard as the Taichiud forces parted, making way for a warrior to come to the fore. He was large, taller than Boldbator, and heavily built. In his hands, he carried a huge, iron-bound club. His face was split in half by a ragged scar that ran diagonally from his left jaw to his right forehead. His ferocious, eager grin was reminiscent of Kula's. His face, however, was thinner.

"A Jurchen, Ambaghai?" Boldbator called, clearly not fazed by his foe's size. "Have you no proper Mongols to fight your battles for you?"

Ambaghai bristled at the insult. "He is a member of our clan, and my champion."

"I assure you, he won't be a member of mine," the Tengger khan growled, drawing his sword from its sheathe.

The Taichiud khan's eyes flared angrily. "Tolo!" he barked. "You know what to do!"

"Yes, my khan..." the huge man said as he lumbered forward.

***

The hall they now met in was low and rectangular, the cedar panelling treated to look dark, and carved with inscriptions in various languages. The Uyghur scribe, Nur, once again was translating the words of Toragana, who was speaking on behalf of the Tengger embassy. On the other side of the low table, sat several Kyrgyz men, the principal one being the elder they'd addressed the day before. With her were Khorijin, Mai, and Solongo, as wall as the two junior scribes. As a courtesy, their men waited outside, and all weapons had been left at the entrance.

The elder nodded and began speaking, his words translated by Nur. "You needn't worry overmuch, for we have endless dealings with your people. We are assuming this is a simple transaction, where you require our wood in amounts that the steppe cannot provide."

"It is so, sir," Toragana acknowledged, nodding her head. "My only assumption is that you are not used to seeing my people from so far afield as the Khamag."

"While not unheard of, it is a relatively rare thing indeed," he confirmed. "We have had dealings with the outlying clans and tribes for generations, those who have mingled with the Kazaks, Uyghur, or our own, mostly. Even your own people, the Sukh, were a rarity."

"And I am here, sir, because I am indeed a Sukh, and hope you remember our previous dealings with good favour," she added. "My husband, the khan, is a busy man, and not always the most patient."

"A man of action, and few words?" the elder queried. "Many warlords are as such."

"There are no warlords quite like my lord Boldbator," Mai interjected, bowing her head low, until it almost touched the tabletop, her voice soft, and somehow almost reverent. "Though he is indeed a mighty warlord, sir, even amongst the steppe people, he is much more, for he is literate, and has his eyes turned to the heavens."

The old man, who's name was Jyrgal, according to Nur, studied Mai, and then Toragana curiously. "A literate Khalka warlord... I do not know whether to be impressed or worried."

Nur did not translate, allowing the Kyrgyz their jest, and they chuckled amongst themselves. Jyrgal then continued to speak. "Your lord, the khan of the Tengger, requires an ample supply of wood for whatever his ambitions might be."

"Aye," Toragana confirmed. "It is no small amount we come to request, either."

"And might one inquire as to what the great khan Tengger Boldbator might require with all this wood?" Jyrgal queried.

Toragana bowed her head again. "Would I seem remiss, or a rude guest, if I was not inclined to share my khan's intentions? Forgive me for saying so, but information has a way of spreading, and cannot be controlled."

Jyrgal smiled. "If we knew, we could then sell the information to his enemies, is that it? Or, if we considered his intentions truly dangerous, give them warnings for free. That is possible, lady of the Sukh. There are no assurances I can give you to prove otherwise. Even if we have no intention of betraying such secrets, you would be foolish to believe us."

"Thank you for understanding, sir," Toragana intoned.

"And to be honest, it would be relatively easy for us to guess what he had in mind, based on the amount of timber you intend to procure," the old man reasoned. "Your people are nomadic, following the herds where they need to graze, so it is safe to assume that the khan is not adopting a sedentary lifestyle and wanting to build permanent homes. His needs are... otherwise."

"It is as you say, sir," she agreed. "And my lord, who controls the treasure of Targetai, will pay handsomely for what he needs."

"So the rumours are true," mused Jyrgal, studying her. "The treasure of the warlord Targetai was indeed found."

"In a manner of speaking," Toragana admitted. "My clan, the Sukh controlled it, and it was the source of much of our wealth, although we unwisely hoarded it. When the Tengger destroyed my people, lord Boldbator claimed the treasure as his own."

"And he does not sit on it, reveling in his wealth?"

She shook her head. "He is not that sort of man, sir. He is using it."

There was silence for several seconds as they considered her words. What on earth could a warlord from the central steppes be using such a treasure for, except...

"How much wood does he require, my lady?" Jyrgal asked.

Toragana's eyes flicked over to Nur, and she nodded subtly. The scribe put a parchment scroll on the low table and pushed it on front of Jyrgal. It was written in Kyrgyz, Uyghur, and Chinese, so that there was no mistaking the request. The elder studied the parchment for several seconds, before sitting up straight and collecting his thoughts.

"I would speak alone with the lady Toragana," he announced. "We will summon you all back in shortly."

The Kyrgyz all got up and left through a back door without a word. Solongo, Mai and Khorijin hesitated, but a curt nod of Toragana's head indicated they were to do as instructed. They rose and walked out the entrance they'd come in.

"I can't imagine that being a good thing," Solongo sighed, clearly worried.

"It merely means that the elder is unusually suspicious of the amount of wood our lord requires," Mai said simply. "He will no doubt be asking our sister many hard questions at this point, but that does not mean we have failed. Boldbator no doubt knew this would happen, and that is why he sent Toragana. Our lord is very wise."

"I just hope she keeps her nerve and that she's as good a negotiator as my brother thinks she is," Khorijin grunted. "I had to leave my damn sword in there..."

***

The three remaining occupants now sat in silence. Nur sat between Toragana and Jyrgal at the low table, waiting to translate. She waited patiently, trying to not overthink the situation. Clearly the elder was alarmed by what he saw, and that was to be expected. There was no way under Heaven that Boldbator hadn't thought of that.

Jyrgal finally spoke, and his voice was not grave, but expressed concern. "I want you, child of the steppes, to assure me that your husband has no ill will toward my people, nor intends to harm them."

She bowed her head. "On my honour as a Sukh, sir, with whom you have had dealings before, I can assure you that is indeed the farthest thing from his mind. If we did not need the wood, he would not have given your people a second thought. Like I said, he is a busy man."

"And I am no fool," Jyrgal said, looking at the parchment again, the numbers making his blood run cold. "Allow me, my lady, to tell you what I think is happening here."

"Please, sir."

Jyrgal drew a deep breath. "A khan has been born, one with the stars in his eyes. The steppe is not big enough for him, and he seeks to do the impossible, and unite the tribes. But the people of the steppe are warriors, and their fealty cannot be had without reward, and such things are a constant need in a society such as yours."

Toragana listened impassively.

"And the treasure of Targetai, though impressive, is not enough to unite the clans and declare him the Great Khan, and certainly not forever. Therefore, he needs must direct his people against other foes, to plunder their lands, and reward his warriors."

"It is our way," she said simply.

"But such foes have protected themselves against the predations of the steppe peoples before: the Xiongnu of ancient days, the Khitans, and now your own mighty folk. They hide behind rivers and great walls, which even your fleetest ponies cannot traverse, and your mightiest warriors cannot break."

She let him continue. "Therefore, to ask for the vast amount of wood that he needs, he intends to overcome these barriers, with bridges and war machines, siege engines such as the people of the South use, or the caliphs and sultans to the west. Boldbator Khan intends to cross the rivers and fight the Xia and the Liao, and take their lands."

Toragana said nothing, but the wise old man didn't need her to. He could read it in her reticence. "By Allah," he breathed. "Not just the Xia or the Liao... your lord intends to conquer the Song..."

He almost seemed pale as he considered his conclusion, but then he bowed his head until it almost touched the table. "My lady, please forgive any conceived impertinence on my part, but I do not know if we dare help you. Your husband's desires, they would see the world burn."

Toragana was not unkind in how she spoke, but she knew now was the time to press the matter. "My husband indeed looks to the Heavens and listens to them, my friend. In a land far from your own, Allah, your God, has birthed a warrior who will take the world in his hand."

Her final words shook him to his core. "And one cannot go against the Will of God."

***

The musicians had begun playing as the two champions circled one another warily, their weapons ready to strike. Boldbator had removed his del, knowing that the added weight and warmth would tire him, He remained in his armour, although he wasn't at all certain that it would provide any protection against the blows of that fearsome club his foe carried- it looked like a small tree, with iron bands wrapped around it, and covered in metal studs meant to break armour and shatter bone.

He couldn't make it a long fight, because the sun was punishing with its heat as it rode overhead. He needed to destroy this Jurchen bastard quickly, in order to legitimize his claim in this fight. He would give Ambaghai no excuses.

The mon khour instruments were playing, their notes carrying on the breeze, accompanied by drums and other strings. A man began to sing now, an old song of the proud Tengger. It touched each of them with a fierce sense of pride.

"Arslan irwees alaldan uraldıya

Bars irwees baildan uraldıya

Dzaan irwees janchildan uraldıya

Khün irwees khüchilden uraldıya!

If lions come, we will fight to our end

If tigers come, we will fight strongly

If elephants come, we will fight with fury

If men come, we will obliterate them!

Bid arslan irwees alaldan uraldıya

Bars irwees baildan uraldıya

Dzaan irwees janchildan uraldıya

Khün irwees khüchilden uraldıya!

Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu!"

Boldbator felt the rhythm of the song flowing through him, and he was ready when Tolo burst forward in a savage charge, swinging with his giant club. Boldbator nimbly ducked and swiped with his yataghan, but the Jurchen spun away, the momentum of his swipe carrying him out of range. But the Taichiud warrior charged again, this time slamming down his weapon from above, as if to drive Boldbator into the ground like a spike meant to hold a ger in place.

Boldbator feinted a strike, but then leapt back, having expected the powerful blow that followed, as Tolo swung out with his giant fist. He was not as fast as Boldbator, but faster than he looked. He was probably also stronger, which most people who knew Boldbator considered damned impossible. He couldn't dart in to strike before Tolo was ready again, and the wary circling continued, each warrior waiting for the other to make a mistake or lose their nerve.

"My brother is no fool," Kula muttered, watching on and wishing it was him fighting. He would have loved to test his axe against the club of the Jurchen, to see who was strongest. But Boldbator said this was his fight, and Kula obeyed, watching grimly. "I just hope he finishes this before he fries like a damned fish in his armour."

"Khatgagch ereen mongoi bolokh bol

Khanarĭd bolon deegüür nĭ düülne

Khürkhrekh ereen bars bolokh bol