"Please pardon my ignorance, but I have only been here a short time. What is the House of Hoekun? Is it the same as the Tuigan, or is it something different?" queried Koja. He waited attentively for her answer.
"A quick mind. You ask questions," commented Mother Bayalun as she leaned forward, setting the point of her staff on the rugs. She studied the priest's face intently with her dark, deep eyes. Raising the tip of her staff, she drew a large circle in the thick nap of the felt. "This is the Tuigan empire." Her staff tapped at the circle.
"Are the Hoekun part of the Tuigan?" Koja asked.
Mother Bayalun ignored the question. Instead she drew several smaller circles inside the first. The circles more or less filled the space. "These are the people of the Tuigan empire. These," she said, stabbing at one of the circles with her staff, "are the Naican, conquered by Burekai, my husband before the khahan." Bayalun went on to tap four other circles. "These are the Dalats, Quirish, Gur, and the Commani. They were all defeated by the current khahan. And this circle," she pointed at the last, in the center of all, "is the Tuigan. There are many families among the Tuigan." Using her staff, the empress poked the rug, leaving little dents. "These are the people of the Tuigan. There are the Hoekun, the Basymats, the Jamaqua, and many more. Each house is named for its founder. Ours was Hoekun the Clever, son of his mother, the Blue Wolf."
Koja nodded politely, though he wasn't sure he understood completely. "The Blue Wolf?"
"A wise spirit. She whelped our ancestor in the middle of winter and caused our people to be born." Bayalun leaned back and shrugged her shoulders. "The children of the House of Hoekun are all the sons and daughters of the Blue Wolf. This makes the Hoekun the royal family of all the Tuigan. I am the oldest of the house, so I am called Eke—or Mother—Bayalun."
"Then your husband before Yamun Khahan was also the khahan?" Koja noted, trying to make sure he grasped everything clearly.
A scowl knitted Bayalun's brow, but she quickly assumed a blank look. "Burekei was khan of the Hoekun ordu, no more. It was his son, Yamun, who was chosen to be the khahan."
"Yamun Khahan was elected? He wasn't born to become the khahan?" Koja asked in surprise. He had assumed the khahan was a hereditary rank, like that of king or prince.
"All men are born to become what they will. Such is the will of Teylas, Lord of the Sky," she explained, playing her fingers up and down the staff. "When Burekei died, Yamun became khan of the Hoekun. It was only later, after he conquered the Dalats, that the families named him great prince of all the Tuigan." Bayalun crossed her feet and adjusted her seat.
"But, I did not invite you here to answer all your questions, envoy, although they have been amusing." She gave him a slight mocking smile and watched to see what kind of reaction her gentle barb would bring.
Koja became red-faced. "Accept my apologies, Second Empress," he meekly responded, bowing his head slightly.
"Please, call me Mother Bayalun," the empress chided. Sitting back in her seat, Bayalun carefully set the staff down by her feet. "You say you are a lama of the Red Mountain," she began casually. "What teachings do you follow?"
"The lamas of the Red Mountain live by the words of the Enlightened One, who taught us how to reach peace and perfect oblivion. We seek to banish our passions, so we can understand the teachings of the Enlightened One." He paused, waiting for some sign of understanding. Bayalun watched him closely but gave no indication that she understood.
Koja continued. "If I drink tea and I like tea, my life will be ruled every day by the desire for tea and I will not know anything else. Every day I will think about my cup of tea and will miss what is happening around me." The priest's hands mimed holding a cup of tea. "Only after we no longer savor life can we truly feel everything life has to offer." Koja tried to keep his explanation simple, not wanting to confuse his hostess with the complexities of Red Mountain theology. Judging from the shaman beside him, the Tuigan were not all that familiar with sophisticated philosophical teachings.
Mother Bayalun squinted at him. "I heard it said you followed Furo the Mighty. Isn't he the god of the Red Mountain Temple? But today you talk of the Enlightened One. Do you follow the teachings of one and worship the other?"
Koja scratched at the stubble on his skull. His simple explanation was getting more complex. "We know it is a truth that Furo the Mighty is a divine agent of the Enlightened One."
"So, you practice the teachings of the Enlightened One, but pray to Furo to intercede on your behalf?"
"Yes, Mother Bayalun." Koja marveled at the astuteness of her questions.
" 'He is like the wind all about us. Felt but not touched, heard but not spoken, moving but unmovable, always present, but always unseen,'" quoted Bayalun, her eyes closed in concentration.
Koja stared at her in amazement, too dumbfounded for words. "That is from the Yanitsava, the Book of Teachings," he whispered.
"And you're surprised that I know it," she chuckled. "I, too, have spent my life learning the teachings of wise men. These worthies have been my instructors." She waved a hand toward the men who sat down the row from Koja. "This is Aghul Balai of the Tsu-Tsu, a people close to the border of Shou Lung," she said, introducing the thin man in the mystical robes. "For many years he studied in Shou Lung, learning the secrets of Chung Tao, the Way." The wizened man pressed his palms together and bowed slightly to Koja.
While at the temple, Koja had heard a little about Chung Tao. It was powerful within the Shou empire, far to the east. It was said that the emperor of the Jade Throne himself followed its teachings. Koja had been taught its teachings were wrong and had heard many evil stories about its practices. To Koja, the mystic suddenly looked sinister and dangerous.
"This other," continued Bayalun, pointing to the fur-clad man, "is Fiyango. Through him, we are able to speak with the spirits of the land and our ancestors, and learn much good advice." The shaman, whose age Koja found impossible to place, smiled a toothless smile at him.
"And she," concluded the second empress, tapping her staff in front of the old crone, "is Boryquil, and this is her daughter Cimca. Boryquil has the gift to see things as they are and things as they should be. She knows the ways of the kaman kulda, the dark spirits that come from the north."
"With my eyes I can see them; with my nose I can smell them," cackled the hag, reciting an old, ritualistic formula. Her lungs labored from the exertion. With each gasping breath, her necklace clacked and rattled. Peering at it from across the aisle, Koja saw that it was a leather cord strung with broad, flat bones. Each bone was covered in red-inked script.
"So you can see, Koja of the Red Mountain, I have surrounded myself with people of useful skills. They advise me and they teach me." Bayalun stopped and quickly wet her lips. "Aghul hopes to convert me to Chung Tao. Fiyango worries that I will forget the spirits of earth, sky, and water, while Boryquil protects my tent from evil spirits. Of course," she added softly, "not that any spirit could enter this area." She touched the finial on her staff.
"Tell me, Koja of the Khazari, are you here to teach me the secrets of the Red Mountain?"
Koja paused for a bit, trying to think of an appropriate response. Finally, he answered, "I was never the best student of my masters, and so I only learned a little from them. These were only small things in the teachings of Furo. I have traveled instead, hoping to aid others through the services of the Enlightened One." Koja didn't lie; he wasn't the best disciple, but his skills were more than he allowed.