Chanar sagged. His plans had collapsed, and the fight went out of him.

"Take him away and keep a guard on him," Yamun shouted irritably to the Kashik. Turning to Chanar as he prepared to leave, Yamun said, "You will ride with me one last time. If you live, you will be banished from my sight. Go and prepare for battle. Teylas will take us to victory!"

"Ai!" The guards hailed the benediction to the khahan's words. Yamun turned his back as the guards led Chanar out.

"My anda, my true anda," the khahan called to Koja. "You will stay." Arms nervously crossed, the priest stood quietly by the door.

Yamun turned to face the lama. The khahan looked very tired. "Koja, once again you have acted wisely and well. It pains me that I cannot honor you for what you have done, but it is not a custom for outsiders to become khans."

"I do not seek honors, Yamun," Koja said sincerely. "But what are you going to do with Bayalun? You need her wizards to clear the battlefield."

The khahan joined Koja at the doorway, pulling aside the tent flap to look out on the camp. "For now, we keep her arrest a secret. Guards will visit her wizards. We'll tell the wizards she's ill. Perhaps you can to tend her," Yamun suggested with a mirthless smile. "After we break the Dragonwall, there will be time to decide."

If we all survive, Koja thought to himself.

17

The Final Assault

It was the largest array of warriors Koja had seen yet. The sun was just rising over the eastern horizon. From the top of the ridge, the priest watched as the creeping rays of morning struck the outermost edge of the right flank. The golden light touched the mass of lance tips, breastplates, shields, bridles, swords, every bit of metal the warriors had. It looked as if some god were pouring gems from the heavens over the Tuigan horde.

Koja guessed that there were two hundred thousand men, perhaps more, gathered on the edge of the plain. They were lined up as far from the Dragonwall as their commanders could manage. After yesterday's disaster, no one wanted his men too far out in the open. The valleys leading onto the plain were choked with columns of horsemen, backed up behind the leading tumens. The men were organized into dense blocks, each unit separated from its neighbors. Yamun supervised the disposition of the units from his vantage point on the ridge. Chanar was nearby, ostensibly part of the khahan's honored command. A group of well-armed Kashik accompanied the general wherever he went. Bayalun was being held secretly in a yurt, far from her own guards.

Their mistress's fate kept from them, Bayalun's wizards had done their job well. While the army moved into position, the spellcasters had used their powers to disintegrate boulders and move mounds of earth out of the way. By daybreak, they had cleared several wide, level breaks through the rubble. Surveying the openings from the hill, Yamun decided these were more than adequate for the attack.

In the distance, the Dragonwall, too, underwent a change. In the shadowy, predawn light, the wall was a brooding monolith. As the sun rose, the gloomy walls became red-gold. The towers and cornices were etched in sharp relief against the green and brown land beyond. Along the battlements, a glinting line of light from the defenders' spear-points shone like small fangs. From where the khahan stood, the Dragonwall's majesty was inspiring.

"Come, anda, it's time for battle," Yamun grunted. He looked out over his army. "Today is a great day. I will either conquer Shou Lung or I will lose every man I have."

Koja looked toward the khahan. "I thought you were certain of victory."

"I am—but it may not be today. If I am beaten here, I'll go back and build a new army. I've been beaten before." Yamun shaded his eyes to look toward the Dragonwall. "But, I wouldn't like to lose," Yamun concluded with a wry smile. "Now, anda, it's time."

The khahan was dressed as he had been the day before; indeed, the man hadn't changed out of his war clothes at all. Koja himself wore the same suit of armor he had worn at the Battle of Manass, as he had come to call it, although Hodj had at least found the time to size it better. The armor was still heavy and hot, but at least it didn't chafe as badly.

"I am coming, Yamun," Koja answered. He didn't want to be in the middle of the battle, but he had no choice. It was his duty to supervise the sacrifice, which had to take place closer to the wall. Trotting to catch up with Yamun, he reined in his mount alongside the warlord.

"As is the custom of our people," Yamun said, "I have ordered one hundred of my finest white mares to be given to this spirit. Is this enough?"

"I do not know. Would it be sufficient to please your god, Teylas?"

"More than enough I should think." Yamun leaned over in his saddle to issue the final orders to a waiting messenger. Satisfied that the man understood the commands, the khahan sent the messenger on his way. Another messenger came forward to take the man's place.

As he neared the main body of the army, Yamun halted, motioning for the guards to bring Chanar forward. The general sat rigidly on his horse, refusing to look at the khahan. Chanar's pride seemed to be all that was sustaining him.

"Chanar Ong Kho," Yamun said solemnly. "In a few moments we will ride among the army. I will give you the place of honor for our coming battle—leading the first charge against the Shou. I give you this because you are my anda, and only because of that. Do not dishonor yourself before the entire army." Chanar made no attempt to answer. "Give him his weapons," Yamun said, then spurred his horse forward.

The khahan's route took him and his entourage through the heart of the two hundred thousand. Koja marveled at the men's discipline. It reminded him just how well trained Yamun's soldiers were. Their insouciance on the march belied their rigid discipline on the field of battle. Two hundred thousand men waited on their horses in strict lines: ten men to an arban; one hundred to a jagun, which in turn formed minghans of one thousand; and the minghans were grouped into massive tumens. Each tumen formed a block of riders ten riders deep and one thousand men across. At their center was the tumen's standard, while the banners of the minghans formed a line of signal flags each man could see.

Two hundred thousand men and animals made enough noise for their presence to be known. As the khahan passed, the men hailed him with a mighty cheer. Even the ranks far from the khahan were not silent. There was a constant rumble as nervous men and horses waited for the signal to attack.

At last, Yamun, Koja, and Chanar reached the head of the army. Yamun's Kashik were set in the center of the line, at the forefront of the army. The khahan rode out to address them. "Men of the Kashik, finest of my warriors! Today, we will crush the armies of the Jade Throne. Ride under the banner of Chanar Ong Kho, the finest of my valiant men. Go forward and fight bravely, for here we will succeed or die!"

The Kashik raised a mighty shout, beating their lances against their swords. Hearing the clamor, the rest of the army took up the cry. The roar echoed in the valleys and across the plain. Koja could not imagine what it must have sounded like to the Shou defenders on the walls.

At a signal from Yamun, Chanar rode to the head of the Kashik. Two standard-bearers galloped behind, one carrying Chanar's banner and the other the standard of the Kashik. The riders took their positions behind the general. The command assigned, Yamun galloped back to where Koja waited.

Taking a position next to his white-tailed battle standard, Yamun surveyed the length of the line. On one side were Chanar and the main body of the Kashik, eight thousand strong. To the other side of the khahan was a line of one hundred white horses, each led by a Shou prisoner, some of the few taken in yesterday's debacle. Next to each horse was a quiverbearer. The Tuigan's black robes stood out starkly against the white mares.