Conn Iggulden - Lords of the Bow

Temuge spoke quickly. "You live then, Kokchu? I thought for a moment that you had been possessed. I was ready to kill whatever spirit had taken you from your body."

Kokchu sat up, his eyes sharp and alert. A sneer touched his face. "You fear too much, Temuge. There is no spirit that can harm me." Both men knew the truth of the moment, but for their own reasons, neither was willing to force it into the open. They stared at each other as enemies, and at last, Temuge nodded.

"I will have the guard carry my brother back to his ger," he said. "Will his cough ease, do you think?"

Kokchu shook his head. "There is no curse that I could find. Take him, as you wish. I must think about what the spirits revealed to me."

Temuge wanted to prick the man's vanity with a barbed comment, but he couldn't think of one and crawled out of the door to fetch the guard for his brother. Snow whirled around him as the burly warrior hefted Genghis onto his shoulders, and Temuge's expression was bitter. No good could come of Kokchu's rise, he was certain.

Zhi Zhong woke abruptly at the clatter of sandals on a hard floor. He shook his head to clear it of sleep and ignored the spasm of hunger that remained with him at all hours. Even the emperor's court was suffering in the famine. The day before, Zhi Zhong had eaten only a single, watery bowl of soup. He had told himself the floating slivers of flesh were the last of the emperor's horses, slaughtered months before. He hoped it was true. As a soldier he had learned never to refuse a meal, even if the meat was rotten.

He stood, throwing aside his blankets and reaching for his sword as a servant entered.

"Who are you to disturb me at this hour?" Zhi Zhong demanded. It was still dark outside and he was drugged with exhausted sleep. He lowered his blade as the servant threw himself down, touching his head to the stones.

"My lord regent, you are summoned to the presence of the Son of Heaven," the man said without looking up. Zhi Zhong frowned in surprise. The boy emperor, Xuan, had never dared to summon him before. He repressed the twitch of anger he felt until he knew more, calling for his slaves to dress and bathe him.

The servant quivered visibly as he heard the call. "My lord, the emperor said to come at once."

"Xuan will wait on my pleasure!" Zhi Zhong snapped, terrifying the man further. "Wait outside for me." The servant scrambled to his feet and Zhi Zhong considered starting him on his way with a kick.

His own slaves entered, and despite his response, Zhi Zhong had them hurry. He chose not to bathe and merely had his long hair tied behind with a bronze clasp so that it hung down his back over his armor. He could smell his own sweat and his mood soured even further as he wondered if the emperor's ministers were behind this summons.

When he left his rooms, with the servant trotting ahead of him, he could see the grayness of dawn from every open window. It was his favorite time of day, though again, his stomach clenched.

He found the emperor in the audience chamber where Zhi Zhong had killed his father. As the lord regent passed through the guards, he wondered if anyone had told the boy he sat on the same chair.

The ministers were in attendance like a flock of brightly colored birds. Ruin Chu, first among them, was standing at Xuan's right hand while the boy sat on the throne, which dwarfed his tiny frame. The first minister looked nervous and defiant at the same time, and Zhi Zhong was curious as he approached and went down on one knee.

"The Son of Heaven summoned me and I have come," he said clearly into the silence. He saw Xuan's eyes fasten on the sword at his hip, and he guessed the boy knew very well what had happened to his father. If so, it made the choice of room a statement, and Zhi Zhong mastered his impatience until he knew what had given the emperor's birds their new confidence.

To his surprise, it was Xuan himself who spoke.

"My city is starving, lord regent," he said. His voice trembled slightly, but firmed as he went on. "With the lottery, perhaps as many as a fifth have died, including those who threw themselves from the walls."

Zhi almost snapped an answer at the reminder of that shameful incident, but he knew there had to be more for Xuan to have dared to call him to his presence.

"The dead are not buried, with so many mouths to feed," the emperor continued. "Instead we must endure the shame of eating our own, or joining them."

"Why have I been summoned here?" Zhi Zhong said suddenly, tired of the boy's airs. Ruin Chu gasped at his effrontery in interrupting the emperor. Zhi Zhong cast a lazy glance in the man's direction, hardly caring.

The boy on the throne leaned forward, summoning his courage. "The Mongol khan has raised a white tent once more on the plain. The spy you sent was successful and we can pay a tribute at last."

Zhi Zhong clenched his right fist, overwhelmed. It was not the victory he had wanted, but the city would soon be a tomb for all of them. Still, it took an immense effort of will to force a smile onto his face.

"Then His Majesty will survive. I will go to the walls and see this white tent, then send word to the khan. We will talk again."

He saw scorn on the faces of the ministers and hated them for it. To a man, they saw him as the architect of the disaster that had befallen Yenking. The shame of surrendering would ripple through the city along with the relief. From the high court to the lowest fisherman, they would know the emperor had been forced to pay a tribute. Still, they would live and escape the rat trap that Yenking had become. Once the Mongols had been paid their blood money, the court could travel south and gather strength and allies in the southern cities. Perhaps they would even find support from the Sung empire of the far south, calling on blood to smash the invader. There would be other battles with the Mongol horde, but they would never again allow the emperor to be trapped. Either way, they would live.

The audience room was cold and Zhi Zhong shivered, realizing he had been standing in silence while the emperor and his ministers watched. He had no words that could ease the bitter pain of what he must do, and he tried to shrug off the enormity of it. There was no point in seeing the entire city starve to death, so that the Mongols could climb the walls and find only dead men. In time the Chin would be strong again. The thought of reaching the soft luxury of the south raised his spirits a little. There would be food and an army there.

"It is the right decision, Son of Heaven," he said, bowing deeply before he left the room.

When he had gone, one of the slaves standing against the wall stood forward. The boy emperor's eyes flickered to him and now there was malice and anger showing where there had been only nervousness before.

The slave straightened subtly, altering the way he held himself. His head was completely hairless, even to bare brows and eyelids, and it shone with some rich unguent. The man stared after the lord regent as if he could see through the great doors to the chamber.

"Let him live until the tribute has been paid," Xuan said. "After that, he is to die as painfully as possible. For his failure and for my father."

The master of the Black Tong of assassins bowed respectfully to the boy who ruled the empire.

"It will be so, Imperial Majesty."

GenghisLordsoftheBow

I T WAS A STRANGE THING to see the gates of Yenking open at last. Genghis stiffened in the saddle as he watched the first heavily laden cart come trundling through. The fact that it was pulled by men and not draught animals showed the state of the city within. It was hard not to dig in his heels and attack, after so many months dreaming of this moment. He told himself that he had made the right decision, glancing at Kokchu across the field, the shaman sitting a pony from the best bloodline in the tribes.