Initially flustered, Koja quickly replied. "Sometimes Furo can grant such insight."
"Then can he tell us the outcome of today's battle?" Yamun inquired, tugging at his mustache. "Bayalun has not seen fit to bring any of her shamans along to provide the service."
Koja thought for a moment, reviewing the spells Furo had granted him this day. "Perhaps not a perfect answer," he finally ventured, "but Furo might grant some hint of the fortunes of this place. I cannot promise any more."
"Whatever, just do it." The khahan was not particularly interested in the technical aspects of Koja's spells. He was only interested in the results.
"I will need to be closer to the Dragonwall."
"Just ahead, over that ridge," Yamun said with a nod. "Sechen, escort him there and see that he is unharmed."
"By your word, it shall be done," said the big man. Sechen guided Koja and a band of his guards up the last yards of the broken slope until they reached an outcropping of brush. There they found a shaded spot where Koja had a clear view of the wall.
They were less than a mile away from the great Shou fortification. The Dragonwall stretched in a long unbroken line, greater and more massive than it had appeared from the top of the pass. The brick used to build it gave the wall a dull yellow-brown color. Koja guessed it stood thirty feet high. The top was toothed with crenellations. A roadway ran the length of the top, broad enough for a chariot to ride down. At regular intervals, about one mile apart, stood square towers, taller than the surrounding wall. These were obviously watchtowers.
The trail from First Pass Under Heaven wound down from the heights to a massive gate set in the wall. The doors themselves were fully as high as the wall, while the towers were even higher. These gatehouses, smooth-surfaced and rectangular, tapered toward the top. Arrow loops, barely visible on the lower levels, were replaced by balconies as archers' positions higher up. An arching bridge stretched between the towers, over the heavy wooden gate.
Briefly, Koja considered telling Yamun that his spell revealed their situation was hopeless. If the trick worked, he could save untold lives. Morally though, he knew he must work the spell. He could not presume to speak for Furo; such an act would be blasphemy. Besides, he doubted his prediction could sway Yamun's resolve.
Bright flashes of light sparkled on the plain. "They've deployed outside the gate," observed Sechen, whose eyesight was much better than Koja's. Now that it was pointed out, the priest could see the men arranged in a long line. The flashes must have been from their armor and weapons. "They know we're here. Work quickly, historian."
Koja began a breathing exercise to calm his mind. It took a long time, but Sechen was too busy counting the standards of the enemy to notice. Finally, the priest produced a scroll he had made that morning. It was covered with special prayers. Holding it up to the east, he read it aloud, then carefully repeated this process to the other points of the compass. Finished, he closed his eyes and stood quite still, his body unconsciously going completely rigid. Sechen and the guards waited, all afraid to say anything lest they disturb the spell.
At last his overtensed muscles sagged and relaxed, and the priest staggered backward. Blinking, he opened his eyes and stared at the Dragonwall. Furo's power was filling his sight, letting him see the great balance of all nature. All things, living and dead, animal and mineral, were filled with the force of the Enlightened One. Some, such as an ordinary rock, contained only a little, while others—men of powerful will, in particular—glowed brightly with inner power. By seeing these auras through the divine inspiration of Furo, Koja hoped to "read" the harmony of the land, and, perhaps, predict the battle's outcome.
At that moment, Koja saw that a prediction would not be difficult to make.
Before the priest's eyes blazed the aura of the Dragonwall itself, as blinding as the sun. Its brilliance blotted out all other auras, even that of the Shou army deployed on the plain. The intensity was beyond anything Koja had experienced. The priest was dumbstruck. The aura shone from all the way underneath the foundations of the fortification to the topmost towers. The burning fire stretched all along the length of the wall, and in it Koja could barely make out a form, a shape struggling, as if against invisible bonds.
Painfully, Koja forced himself to stare into the heart of this magical fire, to discern what lay hidden in the wall. A claw dug deep into the earth. A ridge of spines reached to the topmost battlements. A pattern of scales blended with the brick and stone. Through it all, Koja felt a power watching him, wrathful and tortured at the same time.
"Furo protect me!" he blurted in astonishment, shattering the enchantment. Suddenly, the scene was gone. Blinded, Koja stumbled back, groping his way down the slope. Sechen leaped after him, convinced the lama had gone mad. The priest eluded his grasp. Undaunted or unaware of the danger, Koja increased his speed and excitement at the same time. By the time he reached the bottom of the ridge, his breath came in ragged gasps. Eyesight returning, the priest hobbled and bounded back to the khahan's party.
"Well, what is it?" Yamun shouted. The lama's obvious excitement was contagious, infecting the khahan with a feeling of hope. "What've you learned?"
Koja finally caught his breath. How could he describe what he saw? A power, a spirit greater than anything he had ever imagined, lay beneath—no, was part of—the Dragonwall.
"Great khahan," Koja began, his chest heaving, "the omens are not favorable. A powerful spirit protects the wall. I am certain it will not let you break through."
Yamun was taken back by the priest's words. Not having a reply, he turned to Sechen, who came running up behind. "What did you see?"
"Lord Yamun," the wrestler said as he stumbled forward, "I saw the Shou army. They know we are coming and have lined up to meet us."
"How many?" Yamun probed, leaning forward in his saddle.
"Twenty, maybe twenty-five standards. I'd guess one thousand men to a banner, like our minghans."
Yamun settled back into his saddle. "I've got sixty standards. We'll leave—"
"But Yamun! You cannot break through!" Koja stepped up to the khahan's horse. Soaked in sweat, the priest was frantic, trying to get Yamun to understand. "You will—"
"Quiet!" Yamun roared. "We won't have to." He pointed to a spur of the ridge that Koja had just crossed. "Chanar, take your men to that ridge and hold them there. Goyuk, take one tumen and advance; set the rest of your men to protect the northern flank. I'll hold the center." The two khans nodded in understanding.
"Goyuk, you must draw them out. Charge them once, then break and run. Chanar, your men must be ready to close the rear behind them ... separate them from their wall. I'll be the anvil and you two will be the hammers. Together we will break them." Neither khan had any questions. Their aides would settle on signals to be given with banner and drum, signals that would allow them to attack in unison.
Goyuk and Chanar left to deploy their men. It would be several hours before the troops were in position. That was good, Yamun thought, since it would keep the Shou soldiers standing motionless in the sun for most of the day. Heat and thirst would weaken them. His own men would hardly notice such conditions.
Yamun turned to Koja, who stood nearby, dispirited and dejected. "Priest, I want you to learn more about what you saw." With that the khahan turned away to find some shade. For him, there was nothing more to do now but take a nap.
Leaving the khahan, Chanar galloped down the valley to rejoin his command. Purposefully, he took a long route, one that carried him past Bayalun's camp. Arriving there, he was greeted by a motley collection of wizards—tall and lean, fat and sweaty, some clothed in finery, others scabrous and filthy. The khahan's guards had yet to arrive. Contemptuously, Chanar made his way past Bayalun's lackeys to seek out the khadun herself.