Conqueror

‘How many tumans does he have?’ Batu said.

‘Ten, with two or three spare mounts to a man.’

‘Catapults? Cannon?’

‘No. They rode like raiders on a grand scale. All the supplies were on the spare horses, at least those I saw. Cousin, my mother has risked a great deal in sending me. If it became known …’

‘It won’t come from me, you have my oath,’ Batu replied. His eyes were distant, as he thought through what he had been told. Under the silent pressure of Kublai’s gaze, he came back and focused.

‘Thank you, Kublai. I will not forget it. I can wish for more than a week to prepare, but it will have to be enough.’

Kublai blinked. ‘He has a hundred thousand warriors. You’re not thinking of fighting?’

Batu smiled. ‘I don’t think I should discuss that with you, cousin. Rest here for a few days, eat and grow strong, before you ride back to the city. If I live, I will show my gratitude – give my regards to your mother.’

‘My brother Mongke is with the khan,’ Kublai went on. ‘He is the orlok of Guyuk’s armies and you know he is no fool. See sense, Batu! I brought you the warning so you could run.’

Batu looked at him, seeing the terrible weariness in the way Kublai slumped at the table.

‘If I discuss this with you, I cannot let you go, do you understand? If Guyuk’s scouts capture you, you already have too much information.’

‘They would not dare torture me,’ Kublai said.

Batu only shook his head.

‘If Guyuk ordered it? You think too highly of yourself, my friend. I would imagine that your mother survives because Mongke has supported Guyuk so loyally. And there is only room for one on that particular tail.’

Kublai made his decision, in part because he could hardly imagine getting on a horse ever again, the way he felt at that moment.

‘I will stay until it is safe to go. Now tell me you are not thinking of attacking the khan’s army – the army that took Yenking, broke the Assassin fortress and humbled the Afghan tribes! What do you have, twelve thousand warriors at most, some of them still untried boys? It would be a massacre.’

The food and tea arrived and Kublai fell to with a will, his hunger banishing all other concerns. Batu sipped at a cup, watching him closely. Kublai was known for his intelligence. Even Genghis had remarked on the prodigy and told his brothers to look to Kublai for solutions. Batu could not ignore Kublai’s opinion when it was so completely against him.

‘If I run, I run for ever,’ he said. ‘I was there in Hungary, Kublai, five thousand miles from home. There aren’t many alive who understand as well as I do that the khan cannot be outrun. Guyuk would chase me to the end of the world and think nothing of it.’

‘Then have your people scatter in a hundred directions. Have them ride deep into the Russian steppes as herders. Tell them to bury their armour and their swords, that they might at least survive. You cannot stand, Batu.’

‘The forest is vast …’ Batu began.

Kublai had revived with the draught of salt tea and he thumped his fist on the table as he interrupted.

‘The forest will only slow them down, not stop them. Genghis climbed mountains around the Chin wall with men just like these. You say you know the army. Think, then. It is time to run. I have bought you a few days, enough to stay ahead of them. Even that is not … Well, it is all you have.’

‘And I am grateful, Kublai. I have said it. But if I run, how many of the people in this valley will still be alive a year from now? A few thousand? A few hundred even? Their lives are dedicated to me. These lands are mine, given by Ogedai Khan. No one has the right to take them from me.’

‘Why didn’t you come to Karakorum? If you had bent the knee then, if you had given your oath, there wouldn’t be an army on the way here.’

Batu sighed and rubbed his face. For a moment, he looked almost as weary as Kublai.

‘I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want my warriors taken for some pointless war under Guyuk. I supported Baidur, Chagatai’s son, but in the end he chose not to fight for the khanate. I can’t say I blame him. I didn’t expect the gathering to go ahead without me, but there it is. Call it vanity, perhaps, or just a mistake. It could have gone another way.’

‘But after that? When Guyuk was made khan you could still have come.’

Batu’s face grew cold. ‘To save my people, I would have done even that. I would have knelt in front of that perfumed toad and sworn my honour away.’

‘But you did not,’ Kublai said, disturbed by the extent of the man’s simmering anger.

‘He did not ask me, Kublai. You are the first person from Karakorum I have seen since Guyuk was made khan. For a time, I even thought you had come to call me to oath. I was ready for that.’ He waved an arm to encompass the whole camp around them, as well as the dogs and children, the families. ‘This is all I want. The old khan chose well when he granted me these lands. Did you know that?’

Kublai shook his head silently.

‘When I came here,’ Batu continued, ‘I found a few rotting gers and homes of wood, deep in the forest. I was amazed. What were those things of the nation doing so far from home? Then I found a broken saddle, still marked with my father’s symbol. These are the lands Jochi settled when he ran from Genghis, Kublai. The lands chosen by the first-born of the great khan. My father’s spirit is here, and though Guyuk may never understand it, this is my home. If he just stayed away, I would never be a threat to him.’

‘But he comes. He will burn this camp to the ground,’ Kublai said softly.

‘That is why I must face him.’ Batu nodded to himself. ‘Perhaps he will accept a personal challenge, between two grandsons of Genghis. I think he might enjoy the drama of such a thing.’

‘He would have you cut down with arrows before you could speak,’ Kublai said. ‘I do not enjoy saying these things, Batu. But you have to know the man would never risk his own life. Put aside these mad plans. You speak in desperation, I understand! But you have no choices …’

Kublai broke off, a thought occurring to him as he spoke. Batu saw his attention fix on some inner place and reached out suddenly to take him by the arm.

‘What is it? What came into your mind just then?’

‘No, it is nothing,’ Kublai said, shaking off the grip.

‘Let me judge,’ Batu said.

Kublai rose suddenly, making one of the dogs growl at him.

‘No. I will not be rushed into it. Give me time to think it through.’

He began to pace the room. The idea that had come to him was monstrous. He knew he was too used to solving problems in the safe confines of the city, without having to consider the consequences. If he spoke it aloud, the world would change. He guarded his mouth, refusing to say another word until he was ready.

Batu watched him pace, hardly daring to hope. As a young boy, Kublai had been the favourite student of the khan’s chancellor. When he spoke, even great men paused and listened. Batu waited in silence, only frowning at one of his sons when the boy crept under the table and curled himself around his leg. The little boy looked up with trusting eyes, convinced his father was the strongest and bravest man in the world. Batu could only wish it were true.

Finding it hard to think with Batu’s hopes and needs pressing on him, Kublai walked outside without a word. The warrior with the white eye came out after him and stood close by, watching. Kublai ignored the stare and went into the road, standing in the centre and letting the people bustle around him. The camp was laid out like a town, with winding roads running through it in all directions. He smiled to himself as he realised none of them ran straight, where an enemy could use them to charge. As with a camp of gers, the tracks twisted and doubled back on themselves to confuse an attacker. There was an energy about the place, from raised voices calling their wares to sounds of construction. As Kublai stood there, he saw two men carrying a log of wood to some unknown destination, shuffling along with a weight almost too much for them. Young children ran around him, grubby urchins still blissfully unaware of the adult world.

If he did nothing, Batu would either attack and be destroyed, or run and be hunted down. Had he truly come so many hundreds of miles only to watch the annihilation of Batu’s families? Yet Kublai had given his oath to the khan. He had sworn to serve him with gers, horses, salt and blood. His word was iron and he was caught between his oath and his need.

Suddenly furious, he kicked a stone in the road and sent it skipping. One of the children yelped in surprise, glaring at him as he rubbed a spot on his leg. Kublai didn’t even see the boy. He had already skirted his oath in warning Batu, but he could live with that. What he contemplated was far worse.

When he turned back at last, he saw Batu standing with the white-eyed warrior in the doorway, the dogs lying at their feet. Kublai nodded.

‘Very well, Batu. I have something more to say.’

CHAPTER NINE

Guyuk loved the long summer evenings, where the world hung for an age, suspended in grey light. The air was clear and warm and he felt at peace as he watched the sun begin to ease towards the west, turning the sky a thousand shades of red, orange and purple. He stood at the small door of a ger, looking out at the encampment of his tumans. It was always the same, as they made a town, a city rise in the wilderness. Everything they needed was carried on the backs of the spare horses. He could smell meat and spices on the air and he breathed deeply, feeling strong. The light would last a long time yet and the hunger was strong in him. He tried to sneer at his own caution. He was khan; the laws of Genghis would not bind him.