Piers Anthony - Steppe

Alp charged back toward the tent, laying out warriors right and left. They were Game-players, not true nomads: no match for him individually. He was an energumen with the sword. But there were so many! And more ships were landing!

In moments his own horse would be stolen. Then he would be truly helpless! He could not reach Borte, who was already being hauled into an enemy vessel. It was a heart-wrenching decision—the same he had made back in life when his wife and child were killed—but the only one; he turned and ran for his steed.

Even then, it was close. Had he not been bred to the Steppe, he would not have made it. He lost count of the warriors he downed in that mad scramble. But the same chaos that prevented him from saving his wife also inhibited the enemy from reacting to his new thrust. He made it.

He was not out of it yet! A dozen ships rose with him. For the first time he saw their markings: Markit.

Markit—the toughest individual fighters of the region. Suddenly he understood. Oelun-eke, mother of Temujin, had been stolen from a Markit chief. It had taken eighteen Days for the Markit revenge to materialize—but the time had been well chosen! Now Temujin's own bride had been stolen in a similar manner!

There was a certain justice to it that Alp would have admired at another time. Someone among the Markit was a very shrewd player—and the Game Machine would give that man bonus points for that initiative and planning and nicety of execution! Perhaps Alp's own life had been spared intentionally, so that the precise point of the raid would be manifest, in case the Machine had any doubt.

Beautiful—but they had made one little mistake. They had not taken into account the possibility that the player of the role of Temujin the Kiyat would actually fall in love with the player of Borte the Qongirat, and would go to extraordinary measures to recover her—Game or no Game.

The real Temujin had had stern pride; Alp knew that, just from the nature of the part. He doubted, now, that Temujin was the one scheduled to become Jenghiz Qan; the boy had the proper qualities, but the elements of the Game were too heavily weighted against him. He would already have been eliminated more than once had not Alp bent the part just enough to gain essential help. Still, it was a decent part—and he was about to stretch it to its limits.

Let the Game Machine stop him openly, if it had to! Life no longer had meaning without Koka/Borte, and nothing but death would balk him!

Meanwhile, he had to elude his pursuers. This turned out to be easier than it might have been. Qasar and Borchu had escaped the planet, together with a number of his men. Also, he had posted several ships in orbit. They had not been able to stop the abrupt surprise attack but had evidently given a good account of themselves, and a number survived. These stray forces now closed in and provided cover for his escape. It was a rout, certainly—but they made it safely to the familiar Kentei range.

Alp did not stay in hiding. The real Temujin might have licked his wounds fatalistically and taken a new wife, but Alp's needs were different and his pride more devious. The moment the enemy cleared out, he took a new steed and went to Togrul the Kerayit. He also sent Borchu and Qasar and Chilaun out to make contact with other Mongol clans, in the hope that some would make common cause with him on this mission. Obviously the Markit would not settle for one prisoner when there was other loot to be taken, and it behooved other Mongols to drive the common enemy out. But of course he wanted more than that; he meant to invade the Markit homespace itself, and that would be no mean undertaking!

Togrul came through with a small army and led it personally. He seemed eager to discharge his debt to Temujin's father. Alp hoped it would not be too obvious that he and Uga were private friends. By Game logic, now that Alp had cashed in this asset, he should not be able to depend on further help from the Kerayit at a later date, should another emergency arise. That was the seeming foolishness of this mission: he was not doing it for anything important, like vengeance for insult or acquisition of a throne. Just for the recovery of one wife, whose value would surely have been decreased by the uses to which the Markit men would put her in the interim.

Well, perhaps he would not have to ask for help another time. He hoped so!

One of the other Mongol clans did respond. Jamuqa, the young chief of the Jajirat, arrived with a welcome complement. Together, the Kiyat, Jajirat and Kerayit elements made a formidable fleet.

Alp welcomed Jamuqa as soon as the man landed. "Do you know, I was about to choose that part myself!" he admitted.

"I thought as much," the Jajirat responded with a grin. "Why do you think I came here?"

"Pei-li!" Alp cried, recognizing his old companion. "I haven't seen you since Khitan days!"

"Well, I've seen you! When it became evident that the Khitans were not going to be it, I watched where you headed. I had to abort a going part to do it, but I got in there and snapped up the best prospect!"

"And Temujin didn't look like much!" Alp finished.

"Of course I didn't realize you were actually there. But when I saw how Temujin handled himself, I had a suspicion. So the first pretext I had to come and see for myself—"

"Right!" Alp said, holding no rancor. Pei-li had played it smarter and could not be faulted for that. "Wait till you meet Togrul!"

"I already have! That was another reason to come. We made a good team once—all the way up to Khagan! I think he has out-maneuvered the rest of us again—but we'll see."

"Yes," Alp agreed. "These Mongol politics are worse than the Uigur—and China is stronger now."

Togrul arrived. "But together we can do it!" he said. "It doesn't matter whom Jenghiz Qan derived from historically, so long as he manifests in the Game on schedule. I think the Machine will cover up if one of us pre-empts it. I figure it will happen in the next twenty Days."

"That makes us potential enemies..." Pei-li said.

"Stop thinking like a barbarian!" Uga snapped. "It makes us rivals —and we're friends."

"Still," Pei-li said thoughtfully, "a part that size—"

"Let the loser support the winner," Uga said. "And let the winner see that the loser has his chance to make a good score too. Jenghiz may be good for a million points—and his chief generals a hundred thousand each."

It made sense. Uga always did seem to have worked things out properly. Together they had three times the chance to become Jenghiz, and the support of the other two would sway other players toward the eventual winner. They could all do well and build this into an even better part than the Machine intended. "Agreed!" Alp said, and Pei-li nodded.

"Now let's see about recovering your wife," Uga said. "That is supposed to be the point of all this! I heard she's a pretty one."

Alp didn't answer. There was no sense in giving away exactly how important she was to him.

The three armies sufficed. They fell upon the Markit chief Toktagha in the Selenga River section of space and routed him. Temujin landed on the Markit campsite planet and ran among the tents even as the battle raged on land and in space. "Borte! Borte!" he cried.

A woman ran out heavily. "Temujin!"

It was Borte—and she was pregnant. Only a few hours had passed since she had been taken from him—but twelve Hours was equivalent to six months. The Machine had indulged in another expert job of makeup.

Was it Alp's child — or the brat of one of the Markit abductors? Alp had never had illusions about the use the Markit would have made of this lovely woman. But the possibility of pregnancy had not occurred to him before. It was only the Game—but if this had happened in history, it would have been vital to know the proper parentage. The agony of doubt was acute.