Conn Iggulden - Conqueror

Yao Shu was growing flustered, Sorhatani could see. In the past, Guyuk had been lazy, barely able to mask his impatience while his councillors talked. Making decisions at this speed was so unlike him that she could only wonder at what he was trying to demonstrate to them. Distaste for Guyuk made her stomach clench. His father would not have ignored word of a plague in his lands so easily, as if the thousands of dead did not matter at all, as if it could not spread. She listened to Yao Shu talk of the need for shipbuilding and the sneering tone as Guyuk refused to spend the funds needed. Yet they had a coast in Chin lands and there were nations outside it that rode the waves with skills the Mongols could hardly imagine.

Yao Shu covered dozens of topics and received quick answers each time. Sorhatani groaned to herself at some of them, but at least it was better than the stagnation of previous days. The world would not stand still while Guyuk hunted with his pretty birds. The light changed outside and Guyuk had food and drink brought for himself, though he ignored the needs of those others present. At last, after hours, Yao Shu stepped back and she was free to speak.

As Sorhatani came forward, she saw Guyuk suppress a yawn.

‘I think that is enough for the day,’ he said. ‘You will be first tomorrow, Sorhatani.’

‘My lord ,’ she said, aghast as a ripple of discontent spread through the crowded room. There were others there that he could not afford to ignore, important men who had travelled far to see him. She steeled herself to go on. ‘My lord, the day is still young. Can you at least say whether Batu has replied to his summons? Is he coming to Karakorum, lord, to take the oath?’

Guyuk paused in the act of leaving to turn back to her.

‘That is not the business of my councillors, Sorhatani,’ he said in a reproving tone. ‘I have that in hand.’ His smile was unpleasant and Sorhatani wondered for the first time if he had sent the order to Batu at all.

‘Go on with your work,’ Guyuk called over his shoulder as he reached the doors. ‘The nation does not sleep.’

At dawn the following morning, Sorhatani was woken by her servants. She still had her suite of rooms in the palace, given to her when she aided Torogene through the crisis years that followed Ogedai’s death. Guyuk had not yet had the nerve to take those from her, though she thought it would come in time as he consolidated his power. She sat up straight in bed as her chamberlain knocked at the door, his head bowed low so that he would not catch a glimpse of his mistress. No one in the nation slept naked, but Sorhatani had fallen into the Chin habit of wearing just the lightest of silk robes to bed and there had been embarrassing scenes before her servants learned her ways.

She knew something was wrong as soon as she saw the man standing there rather than one of the young women who helped her to bathe and dress each morning.

‘What is it?’ she said sleepily.

‘Your son Kublai, mistress. He says he must speak with you. I told him to come back when you are dressed, but he would not leave.’

Sorhatani stifled a smile at the man’s poorly concealed irritation. Kublai could have that effect on people. Only the presence of her personal guards could have prevented him from storming in.

She pulled on a heavier robe, tying it around her waist as she padded out into a room lit by the soft grey of dawn. Sorhatani shivered as she saw Kublai there, dressed in dark blue silk. He looked up as she entered and glanced out of the window at the rising sun.

‘At last, mother!’ he said, though he smiled to see her tousled and still sleepy. ‘The khan is taking the tumans away from the city.’

He gestured to the window and Sorhatani followed him, staring out over the plains. Her rooms were high enough to see far and she could make out the dark masses of horsemen riding in formation. She thought of the way cloud shadows slipped across the land in summer, but her mouth tightened and her thoughts cleared suddenly.

‘Did Guyuk tell you he was taking them out?’ Kublai asked.

His mother shook her head, though it hurt to admit she had not been taken into his confidence.

‘That is … odd,’ Kublai said, his voice soft.

Sorhatani met his eyes and, with a gesture, sent her servants away to make fresh tea. Together, they watched them leave and Kublai relaxed subtly when they were alone.

‘If he is making some display of power, or even just training them, I think you would have been told,’ Kublai went on. ‘He knows half the city will be tumbling out of warm beds to watch them go. There is no way to move the army in secret. Guyuk knows that.’

‘Tell me then, what is he doing?’

‘The word is he will head west to test the new men, to bind them to him in the mountains with hard marches and endurance. The market traders have all heard the same thing, which makes me suspicious. It feels like a story someone has planted, a good one.’

Sorhatani held back her impatience as her son thought through all the possibilities before fixing on one. She knew him well enough to be sure of his judgement.

‘Batu,’ he said at last. ‘It has to be him. A quick strike to remove the one man who has not taken the oath to the khan.’

Sorhatani closed her eyes for a moment. They were still alone, but there were always ears to hear and she stepped very close to her son, dropping her voice to just a breath.

‘I could warn him,’ she whispered.

Kublai drew back from her, searching her eyes.

‘You would risk all our lives,’ he said, dropping his head to hers as if he comforted his mother. Even a secret watcher could not have been sure they spoke together as he muttered into her hair, breathing its scent.

‘Shall I do nothing and see your cousin killed?’ she replied.

‘If it is the khan’s will, what choice do you have?’

‘I cannot stand by and watch without giving him a chance to run. The yam riders can outpace the army.’

Kublai shook his head. ‘That would be dangerous. The riders would remember carrying the message. If Batu escapes, Guyuk would hunt back down the chain until he reached you. I cannot allow you to do that, mother.’

‘I can have some servant take the message to the stables in the city.’

‘Who would you trust when the khan comes in fury, looking for the source? Servants can be bought or broken until they talk.’ He paused for a time, his eyes far away. ‘It could be done, by a rider willing to use yam horses who is yet not one of them. Nothing else would have the speed to warn Batu in time. If you are sure that is what you want to do.’

‘He should have been khan, Kublai,’ she said.

He gripped her arms, almost painfully. ‘Mother, you must not say that, even to me. The palace is no longer a safe place.’

‘Exactly, Kublai. There are spies everywhere now. Just a year ago, I did not have to watch my words in case some perfumed courtier ran to his master to whisper in his ear. The khan sent Torogene away. I will not last long now, with his eye on me. Let me thwart him in this, my son. Make it happen.’

‘I will take the message,’ he said. ‘Then there will be no papers, no record.’

He had expected her to argue, but she understood there was no one else and nodded, stepping back from him. Her eyes were full of pride as she raised her voice to a normal level.

‘Very well, Kublai. Go out to the plain and watch them go. Tell me everything when you come back this evening. I want to hear it all.’ A listener would have heard nothing to alarm him, though both of them knew he would not return.

‘Mongke will be with the khan,’ he said. ‘How I envy him.’

‘He is the khan’s orlok, his most loyal follower,’ she replied. The warning did not have to be spoken. Mongke could never know they had moved to save Batu. The older brother could not be trusted with such a secret.