"The second empress has some plan?" whispered the voice, somewhat rankled by her observations.
"Indeed. The armies of Shou Lung will destroy the khahan and his bodyguards."
"What will you do while we risk all?" the speaker snapped.
"We will aid you, but we cannot act so directly. We cannot be suspected, or the throne will fall to one of the khahan's sons. If that happens, nothing will be gained," Bayalun explained patiently. "You must attack the khahan."
"Very well. I will," the hidden speaker across the clearing agreed. "What is your plan?"
"You will bring your army out of the Dragonwall and defeat the khahan. In the battle, he will be killed."
"That is all?" the voice asked sarcastically. "And how are we to defeat him?"
"Chanar, explain the khahan's plans," Bayalun commanded, seating herself on a rock.
Chanar stepped forward, standing on the edge of the light. "Yamun Khahan will bring part of his army in front of the Dragonwall. He will attack with this group and then seem to retreat in great confusion. We've done this many times," explained the general. "You must not pursue him. It's a trap. When you don't follow he'll return to attack again. That's when you must be ready to charge."
"He outnumbers the troops we'll have available. To attack then will be suicide," whispered the Shou speaker.
"Only if you attack alone," countered Chanar, "and you won't. Send your army out onto the plain in front of the wall. The khahan won't be able to resist. He will charge. When he does, break to your flanks and let him pass through toward the wall. My men will fall upon him from the rear, and you can strike from the sides. Trapped between the wall and our men, he'll be destroyed."
"And you will become khahan," the voice concluded with a trace of sarcasm.
"And, if the tribute is paid to the khans, there will be peace between the Tuigan and Shou Lung," Bayalun pointed out.
"The bribe will be paid. I will tell Ju-Hai Chou of your plan. You will not hear from us again until after the battle," the voice said flatly. There was a scraping noise from the shadows as the stranger prepared to leave.
Bayalun called out, "Hold one moment, speaker for Ju-Hai Chou. A request."
"What?"
"Send us one of your men to be a runner in case we need to communicate."
"Can't you use spells?" inquired the Shou.
"The runner will be an extra precaution, should I be unable to use my spells. Give us a man. We have clothes ready for him at the edge of our camp." Chanar looked at Bayalun, knowing full well they'd made no such preparations. She met his gaze sharply, warning him to keep quiet.
"It is agreed." There was a pause, then a small man stepped out of the shadows. He wore the dress of a common soldier of Shou—a long padded coat stitched with quilted squares, slipperlike shoes, and a simple metal cap. The runner carried a spear, and a sword hung in a scabbard at his side. In the darkness the colors of his clothes were impossible to see. Nervously, the man, barely more than a youth, moved across the clearing.
"Success to the second empress and the illustrious general," said the shadowed figure across the ravine.
"Indeed. Chanar," Bayalun whispered very softly, "be watchful and ready to use your sword on my signal." She tilted her head slightly toward the Shou soldier. "Quickly now, we must be back before it grows too light," she said in broken Shou, her voice loud enough that the warrior could hear her.
The three set out, following the trail back to the camp.
Bayalun took the lead, then came the Shou warrior, while Chanar brought up the rear. They wound their way along the ravine until they reached the spot where Chanar had hidden the sentry's body.
"Now," said Mother Bayalun without turning around. Chanar instantly took the cue and, before the unfortunate soldier could react, the general's sword bit into the man's neck just below the ear. There was a soft snap as the blade sheared bone. The guard's severed head went tumbling down the slope. There was a quick jet of blood, then, legs and arms still flailing, the body toppled to the ground.
Chanar wiped his blade on the dead man's sleeve, then tore off a piece of the cloth to wipe his mail shirt clean. He retrieved the head and set it closer to the sentry Bayalun had killed earlier.
"Good. Leave the body where it is," the khadun said from the top of the ravine. "When the guards find the bodies in the morning, they'll decide the sentry was attacked by Shou enemies. No one will suspect us. Now, we must get back into camp."
15
The Dragonwall
The excited jabber of men's voices echoed throughout the royal compound just before sunrise, even before dawn marked the horizon. The noise interrupted Koja's bath. What was normally a luxury, though unappreciated by Hodj, was today an icy ordeal. The air was cold and the water was melted from the snows outside. The commotion in the camp was a welcome excuse to get dressed.
Shivering, Koja quickly pulled on his new black robes, foregoing his normal careful inspection for vermin. He couldn't see how the Tuigan could stand it, lice-ridden as their clothes so often were. Putting the thought aside, he hastily pulled on the soft boots Hodj had found to replace his worn-out slippers. The priest made an incongruous figure—a bald, gaunt man, hardly a warrior, dressed in the rich black kalat of Yamun's elite bodyguard.
While Koja dressed, the clamor outside continued. Still fastening the toggles on his kalat, the lama scrambled through the door into the predawn darkness. A fire blazed nearby, casting shadows of the men standing around it. Two bodies lay on the ground next to the flames. Koja hurried over to the group—several common troopers, a few more of the Kashik, and stooped, old Goyuk. "What is it, Goyuk Khan?" the priest asked.
"Come and look," the ancient warrior answered, his wrinkled face marked by a grim frown. Scowling, Goyuk pointed at the bodies on the ground. Pushing past the troopers, Koja stopped in horror.
Spread on the ground were the corpses of two men. One was a Tuigan trooper with the front of his kalat soaked in blood from a gaping slit in his throat. The other was a strange warrior wearing a heavy quilted robe emblazoned with a single Shou character, the word for virtue. He wore the armor of a simple foot soldier. The warrior's head was carefully set next to the body.
Koja turned away. "Who is it?" he gasped to Goyuk.
The old man deferred to the Kashik commander standing beside him.
"Master lama," the Kashik explained politely, although his voice was cold with anger. "This man was a soldier of the Naican ordu stationed on guard duty last night. They found him this morning, along with this other one. He must have met a Shou patrol, and they killed him. At least he killed one of the enemy before he died. It happened over there." The commander pointed toward the northeast, where the ground fell away toward the plain below.
"Does Yamun know?" Koja asked of Goyuk.
The old man nodded, sucking on his lower lip. "He sent me."
Koja looked at the bodies again. There was something here that didn't seem right. "Why?" he finally asked, almost to himself.
"Why did Yamun send me? Beca—"
"No, no," Koja quickly corrected. "Why were the Shou so close to the camp? Did anything else happen?" Koja asked the officer.
"Nothing was reported, master lama," the commander replied.
"They were scouting us, and this man found them," Goyuk said with finality. "It is clear. Hang the body of the Shou up. Now there is work to be done." Having voiced his opinion on the subject, the old khan stomped away, his armor jingling as he went. The Kashik followed after him.