"A raid!" suggested one of the Kashik khans.
"No, not a raid," Yamun answered coolly. "More than a raid. We'll teach this emperor to fear. We will conquer Shou Lung! I, Yamun Khahan, will be the Illustrious Emperor of All People!" The khahan roared out the last words to the sky, threatening as much as promising. "It is our destiny."
Yamun's eyes blazed. He panted, lustful for the challenge. His heart longed for the fury of battle and the greatness conquest would bring to him.
The excitement of the khans formed into a chant. It was as if Yamun's vision of conquest spread from him to them. It leaped to the khans, took possession of their spirit. Even Koja felt the wild passion, the lust to act that flowed from Yamun.
The khahan stepped back to his seat and surveyed the khans. They looked to him in anticipation: some eager, a few fearful. "Who will go to war with me? Who will share in the riches of Shou Lung?" he shouted to the masses.
The response came in a tumult of yells and clapping from the khans. Koja, in their midst, was almost deafened by the warriors' frantic shouts. Yamun stood before his seat, clearly enjoying the frenzy. His eyes were wild, and his face was flushed and pulsing with energy. It seemed to the priest that the khahan had found his own cure, Here again was the man who could withstand the might of a god's thunderbolts.
"By the will of Teylas, my khans, we will ride to victory!" proclaimed the khahan. "The Dragonwall must fall!"
13
Yamun growled at his bodyguards, ten Kashik warriors who circled him at a respectful distance. One of them had clumsily bumped into an armor stand, sending Yamun's gilt mail sprawling. Fumbling to correct his error, man made still more noise. Yamun snarled impatiently for the mortified soldier to stop fussing.
It was one thing to have a bodyguard of ten thousand men who would make camp, patrol at night, and charge boldly into battle; it was quite another thing to have an arban of soldiers hovering around you wherever you went. The Kashik, however, upon learning that morning that their khahan still lived, were determined to protect him at all times. It was a great honor for the men chosen to guard the khahan, but it was going to take time for Yamun to get adjusted. Still, the khahan knew better than to argue with the devotion and loyalty of his own men.
The guard finally finished straightening the gear and quietly took his place along the wall of the Great Yurt. The other guards stood silently in their positions. Satisfied that there would be no more disturbances, Yamun resumed his conversation.
Sitting at the foot of Yamun's throne was his anda, the grand historian, Koja. "Well, anda," Yamun said to him, "soon there'll be more to write in your histories, if you have the time. There's much to be done before we march on Shou Lung."
The priest looked at Yamun sharply, still puzzled by the events of the couralitai. "Why have you done this?" he finally asked. "You attack Shou Lung and ignore Bayalun. Is this wise?"
Yamun scowled. "Anda, I did what I must." He held out his fists. "Someone seeks to kill me: Bayalun-" He closed one fist. "And Shou Lung." He closed the other. "I will not ignore this insult."
"But Shou Lung is the mightiest of nations!" protested Koja. "Why them and not Bayalun?"
"Bayalun is one of my people. If I strike at her, there will be dissension among the khans. They will demand proof and the wizards will turn against me," the khahan predicted. "Then my empire would be nothing." He lowered his fists. "But, if I attack Shou Lung, my people will stand united in battle, and I will be rid of one enemy. Better one foe than two. That is ruling, is it not?"
Koja swallowed, hearing the determination in Yamun's voice. "But Shou Lung is huge!"
"And their emperor is afraid of me. Scared men can be beaten," Yamun confidently predicted.
Koja resigned himself to Yamun's decision. "What of Bayalun?" he asked as an afterthought.
Yamun dismissed her name with casual wave. "Now that I know her tricks, she will be watched. We will keep her here with us so she can't cause problems. We will keep the snake under our heel.
"I have decided," Yamun noted idly, abruptly changing the subject, "you'll meet with these envoys from Khazari and handle the details of their surrender. I've got to make plans for our conquest of Shou Lung."
"Me, Yamun? Have you forgotten that I am a Khazari? I can't negotiate the surrender," Koja protested.
"Who said negotiate?" the khahan replied sharply. "Just accept their surrender."
"But, there must be terms. I can't just tell them to give up."
"Why not?" Yamun asked, stroking the fine point of his mustache. "They've got no army to protect Manass. I can destroy anything they send. You tell them that. There are too many things for me to do here. There are orders to give, and reports have just arrived from Hubadai in Semphar." He pointed to the royal scribe, next to whom sat a bundle of papers tied with yellow silk ribbons.
"But, they want my head!" the little lama sputtered, nervously rubbing his scalp.
An ironic smile twisted the khahan's scarred lips. "You will do this because I have ordered it. They want your head, so they no longer consider you a countryman. You see, you are no longer a Khazari."
Koja swallowed at Yamun's words. "What can I do?" Although he did not want this task at all, it was clear that he had to accept the khahan's will.
"I want them to surrender," Yamun repeated, knowing that Koja expected more. "Very well, I want goods equal to ten thousand bars of silver to be paid on the first moon of every new year. Then, they must turn over this governor, his wizard, and the Shou officials you described. They escaped the battlefield and I want them-or their heads and hands."
Koja waited for Yamun to outline more, but the khahan had finished his demands. "That is not all," the priest enjoined.
Yamun counted out his terms on his fingers. "Surrender, goods, and prisoners. What else is there?"
Exasperated, Koja took paper and pen from the scribe, spreading the sheet between himself and Yamun. Koja quickly drew Khazari's borders.
"Yamun, these are not wandering tribesmen you have conquered. The Khazari will not surrender and obey you just because you are khahan-"
"Then I'll destroy their homes and scatter the people among my khans. Tell them that," Yamun threatened.
"No, Yamun, that will not do. The Khazari are not like the tribes." Koja dotted the map with the towns and cities of Khazari. "They have stone towns and fields. They do not travel from camp to camp. You must set someone to rule them, pass laws, and make judgments."
Yamun leaned forward to study Koja's map. "This is not our way," he grumbled. "But because you say it must be done, I will consider it. For now, tell the envoys they must give me Manass as my own. Then, they must tear down the walls around all their other ordus." The khahan pushed the crude map away with his toe. "Make me a good map of Khazari, anda."
Koja sighed and thought through the list of demands that Yamun had made. "And what can you negotiate on?"
"My anda, there will be no negotiation." Yamun loomed over the priest to add emphasis to his words.
"And if they refuse?" Koja asked softly.
Yamun casually sipped from a cup of kumiss. "As I said: I will destroy every ordu in Khazari. Every male taller than the yoke of an oxcart will be put to the sword, and all their wives and little children will be scattered as slaves among my people. Their nation will be no more. That I can do, anda." The khahan settled back into his seat. "Scribe, write out my demands. I'll put my seal to it. Anda, you can take that with you as proof."
The demands written, Yamun turned to his scribe and ordered him to begin reading the stack of reports that sat beside him. Koja rose to one knee and made a brief bow to the khahan before slowly backing out of his presence. Rapt in Hubadai's account of the fall of Semphar, Yamun didn't even notice his departure.