David Cook - Horselords

No one answered. No one, it seemed, could tear his eyes from the khahan.

Koja looked toward Bayalun. She was once again smiling the same faintly triumphant smile that had crossed her face earlier. Next to her, Jad was watching the khans, his smile equally triumphant as he searched out the slightest sign of opposition.

"None shall be khahan but you, dear husband," Bayalun said diplomatically. "But some, believing you dead, were eager for a new khahan." All eyes turned toward Chagadai. His thin face grew pale. "They forgot what is proper and called for Chanar to be khahan, ignoring your own sons. They did not even wait the thirty days of mourning that tradition demands." Bayalun tapped the ground with her staff for emphasis.

Chagadai nervously walked down the path, trying to discreetly return to his place. Those khans who had applauded his words sat very quietly in their seats, doing nothing to attract attention to themselves. Yamun turned toward the trembling Chagadai, fixing the man to the spot with his fierce stare. Those between the two men slid out of the way. "These words are true," the khahan growled.

"Great Lord," Chagadai sputtered, falling to one knee and bowing his head. "I did these things for the good of your people. Hubadai attacks Semphar, while we fight the Khazari. We need guidance."

"And my son isn't fit to rule. This is treason."

The nobles whispered in fearful concern. None, however, dared raise his voice in protest.

"Husband and son," Bayalun interjected, "he acted for the good of the Tuigan. If Chagadai knew you lived, he would not have spoken so."

" 'Only a foolish man holds the pecking hawk close to his eyes,'" Yamun angrily retorted, using an old proverb to make his point. "Like the hawk, Chagadai attacks me. He has betrayed me." Yamun strode to where the khan cowered.

Before anyone could object, Yamun drew his sword and thrust it forward. The sword pierced the khan's chest. There was a choked gasp of surprise from Chagadai, then he flopped to the ground, blood spurting from his wound. The dying man twitched and jerked, but finally lay still. Yamun, exhausted by the effort, leaned on the sword, its tip in the dirt, blood running down the blade.

For a moment, no one spoke. The khans, so vocal before, were unwilling to draw Yamun's ire. The khahan, as he regained his breath, grimly scanned the assembly, looking for anyone who might challenge his actions. Servants hurried forward and dragged the body away, sweeping dirt over the dark stain of blood on the ground.

"You have been told I died in battle," Yamun finally said to his apprehensive audience. "This was a lie, you say: the khahan did not die." Yamun wiped the bloody sword on his robe. "I remained hidden by my own command. I wanted you, my faithful khans, to think me dead."

"Why, Great Khan, why?" one of khans sitting on Jad's side asked hesitantly.

"I was attacked by assassins. I was wounded, but I live. Teylas protected me from this evil attack." He stopped to recover his strength. Suddenly everyone could see his weakness.

"Who did this to our khahan?" Bayalun called out. She looked around, waiting for an answer.

"The Khazari!" answered one from Jad's side of the couralitai. Koja suddenly felt uncomfortable, exposed. The commander next to the priest swiveled slightly, one hand on his sword. On the other side, the belching khan slid back, not wanting to sit too close to the lama.

"No, not the Khazari," Yamun snapped. "It was a Khazari who saved me from the assassins. The lama, Koja, fought to protect me from my attackers. For this I've made him my anda." The khans on either side of Koja eyed him with surprised respect.

"Who then?" asked a khan.

"Do you want to see my assassins?" Yamun asked, feigning reluctance. Weakened by the effort of speaking, the khahan closed his eyes. The wave of shouted approval from the khans rocked him slightly. Slowly, he took the empty seat between Jad and Bayalun.

"The bodies! Yes, we will see the bodies," the commander next to Koja shouted, urging the khans around him to add their voices to the cry. It quickly swelled and grew as khans from both sides expressed their outrage. Yamun settled back, confident that the khans still followed him.

"The bodies, bring the bodies!" went up the chant.

Yamun raised his hand, commanding silence. "Loyal khans," he shouted over the dying rumble, drawing deeper on his reserves of strength. "You shall see them. Sechen, bring the assassins here."

In the brief moments it took to fetch the grim bundle, Yamun sagged back in his seat. The khahan, Jad, and Goyuk conferred quickly amongst themselves.

Sechen returned, carrying the bloodstained rug, and dropped it with a thud at Yamun's feet. A wave of anticipation rippled through the nobles.

"Now, see who attacked your khahan," Yamun solemnly announced. "An unclean creature and a man!" With the tip of his boot, the khahan carefully pushed a fold of the rug aside. A visible wave of pollution and decay, marked by a cloud of flies, rose up from the rotting bodies. A gasp of astonishment came spontaneously from the assembled group. "A beast!" hissed a voice filled with disgust. "They send beasts to kill our khahan!"

There were two bodies in the rug: the hu hsien and the wizard. The once-bright fur of the fox creature was stiff and dull-colored. Its wounds, more fearsome in death, were sunken, the edges soft and black. Dark patches of decay spread from these, mottling the skin beneath the bristling fur. The eyes were gone, pecked out by birds. A purplish tongue, dry and cracked, lolled out of its mouth. The human next to it was equally decayed, the slashed throat gray and crusted.

Bayalun choked, "Afrasib!" She quickly clamped her mouth shut and avoided Yamun's gaze. Her face was pale. Leaning over, she whispered a word to one of the khans beside her. He nodded and slid back out of sight.

"Who are they?" cried out a thin, pock-marked khan, pushing his way through his fellows to get a closer look at the corpses. The other khans surged forward behind him.

"The beast is a hu hsien, a creature of Shou Lung," Jad explained. "The other is the wizard, Afrasib." The prince stopped, letting the khans form their own conclusions.

Eyes, suspicious and hard, started to turn toward Bayalun. She met their gaze firmly, not showing any fear. Slowly and regally, the khadun stood and walked to the dead bodies. She studied the corpses, poking at them with her staff. The khans stepped back, creating a circle around her. She rolled Afrasib's head to the side. "Traitor!" she hissed. Leaning over, she spat onto the dead wizard's face.

"He has betrayed the khahan. The Shou emperor must have bought his loyalty," Bayalun announced, turning back to her seat.

"But who sent these killers?" the pock-faced khan asked, his questions still not satisfied.

"Who, indeed?" Jad asked, looking toward Bayalun.

"The emperor of Shou uses things like the hu hsien as spies," Bayalun countered as she stiffly sat down. "Ask Yamun's priest if this is not so."

"It is true," Yamun said. In the crowd, Koja started at the statement. He didn't see why the khahan was siding with the khadun. He must be must be planning something, the lama decided.

"This is what Shou Lung thinks of us," sneered Yamun, still talking. "Their emperor fears us, so he sends evil spirits to kill me. Do we fear the dogs of Shou?"

"No!" came the cry. Even Chanar seemed roused by the khahan's passionate boast.

"Shall we sit here while they send killers-like this-" Yamun jabbed a finger toward the dead hu hsien. "He sends beasts to stalk us. Are we deer before the hunter?"

"No!" came the shout again. The khans were gripped by rage. Koja was amazed; Yamun showed no sign of the wounds that weakened him only a few minutes before. The khahan stood tall, his legs spread and set solidly.