At his raised hand, the warriors around the lead cart drew up in a defensive position, their hands on the hilts of swords. The Uighurs must have had a good supply of ore for so many to carry blades, Khasar thought. Perhaps there would be trade in steel as well. There were still too many in the camp with nothing but a knife to complement their bows. Khasar directed his gaze to a small gray-haired man on the front of the cart. It was he who had held up an arm to halt the column, and Khasar saw how the warriors looked to him for orders. Though the man's deel was of simple cut, it had to be the Uighur khan, Barchuk. Khasar decided to give him honor by speaking first.
"You are welcome in the camp, lord," he said formally. "You are the last of the great tribes to arrive, but my lord Genghis has received your message in goodwill and allocated grazing land for your families."
The small man nodded thoughtfully as he looked past Khasar to the riders who waited in formation.
"I can see we must be the last. I can hardly believe there are any more warriors in the world, given the size of the host on this plain. You are the first men we have seen in many days of travel." He shook his head in wonder at the thought. "The Uighurs will pledge to Genghis, as I have promised. Show us where to pitch our gers and we will do the rest."
In comparison to some of the pricklier khans, Khasar appreciated the man's bluntness. He smiled. "I am his brother, Khasar," he said. "I will show you myself."
"Step up beside me, then, Khasar. I am hungry for news." The khan patted the wooden bench of the cart and Khasar dismounted, sending his horse back to the first rank of Woyela warriors with a slap on its rump.
"If we are the last, perhaps it will not be long before Genghis points this great arrow at his enemies," the khan said as Khasar clambered up beside him. Barchuk clicked in his cheek at the oxen, and the cart moved off with a lurch. Khasar watched how the Uighur warriors kept formation around them and was pleased. They could ride, at least.
"Only he can say, lord." The bruises he had taken from the Woyela had almost faded, though he felt Barchuk's eyes drift over them without comment. The camp had been quiet for a time after seeing the Woyela humbled, but with the end of summer, they were restless again and, now that the Uighurs had arrived, he thought his brother would move in just a few days. He felt his own excitement mounting at the idea. They had the tribes and Genghis would take their oaths of loyalty. After that, war would come and he and his brothers would take the Chin foot off the necks of their people.
"You seem cheerful, Khasar," Barchuk observed as he guided the cart around a hump in the grass. The older man was wiry with strength and his eyes seemed constantly amused.
"I was thinking that we have never before come together, lord. Always there has been some blood feud or Chin bribery to keep us at each other's throats." He waved an arm to encompass the camp on the plain. "This? This is a new thing."
"It may end in destruction for our people," Barchuk murmured, watching him closely.
Khasar grinned. He remembered Kachiun and Genghis debating the same point and he echoed their words. "Yes, but not one of us, not one man, woman, or child, will be alive in a hundred years. Everyone you see here will be bones."
He saw Barchuk frown in puzzlement and wished he had Kachiun's ability to speak as he went on.
"What is the purpose of life if not to conquer? To steal women and land? I would rather be here and see this than live out my life in peace."
Barchuk nodded. "You are a philosopher, Khasar."
Khasar chuckled. "You are the only one who thinks it. No, I am the geat khan's brother and this is our time."
GenghisLordsoftheBow
CHAPTER 3
B ARCHUK OF THE U IGHURS SPOKE FOR HOURS as the sun set outside the great ger. Genghis was fascinated by the man's knowledge, and if he came across a concept he did not understand, he made the khan go over and over it until the meaning was clear.
Of all subjects, anything to do with the Chin had Genghis leaning forward in his seat like a hawk, his eyes bright with interest. The Uighurs had come from land to the far southwest, bordering the Gobi Desert and the Chin kingdom of Xi Xia. Genghis reveled in every detail Barchuk could provide of Chin trade caravans, their dress and customs, and, most of all, their weapons and armor. It was true that merchants may not have had the best of guards, but each scrap of information fell upon the desert of Genghis's imagination like spring water, vanishing deep.
"Peace has brought you wealth and security," Genghis said as Barchuk paused to clear his throat with a gulp of tea. "Perhaps you could have approached the king of the Xi Xia to ally against me. Did you consider it?"
"Of course," Barchuk replied, disarming him with honesty. "But if I have given you the impression of their friendship, it is false. They trade with us because they have markets for the skins of snow leopards from the mountains, for hard woods, even seeds of rare plants to aid them in their study of healing. In return, they sell us raw iron, carpets, tea, and sometimes a scroll they have already copied many times." He paused and smiled wryly at the gathering of men. "They bring their litters and their guards into Uighur towns, but their distaste can be read on every face, even those they call slaves." The memories had brought a flush of irritation to his face and he wiped his brow before continuing. "Since I have learned their language, I know them too well to ask for support. You have to see them to understand, lord. They care nothing for those who are not Xi Xia subjects. Even the Chin regard them as a separate people, though they share many of the same customs. They pay tribute to the Chin emperor and, though under his protection, still consider themselves apart from their powerful neighbor. Their arrogance is colossal, lord."
Barchuk leaned forward, reaching out to tap Genghis on his knee. He did not seem to notice the way the surrounding men bristled.
"We have had their scraps for many generations, lord, while they kept the best meat behind their forts and walls."
"And you would see them broken," Genghis murmured.
"I would. All I ask is that their libraries are turned over to the Uighur for study. In addition, we have seen rare gems and a stone that is like milk and fire. They do not trade such items no matter what we offer."
Genghis watched the khan closely as he spoke. Barchuk knew he had no right to demand spoils from war. The tribes were not paid to fight and anything they won or looted was theirs by tradition. Barchuk asked a great deal, but Genghis could not think of another group who might want the libraries of the Xi Xia. The very idea made him want to smile.
"You may have the scrolls, Barchuk. My word on it. Anything else goes to the victors and is in the hands of the sky father. I can give you no special claim."
Barchuk sat back and gave a reluctant nod. "It is enough, with everything else we will win from them. I have seen my people ridden down in the road by their horses, lord. I have seen them starve while the Xi Xia grew fat on crops they would not share. I have brought my warriors to extract a price for their arrogance and our towns and fields are empty behind us. The Uighur are with you, gers, horses, salt, and blood."
Genghis reached out and the two men bound the oath with a quick clasp that hid the seriousness of such a declaration. The tribes waited outside the ger and Genghis would demand a similar oath from them all as soon as he was ready. To offer it in private was a demonstration of support that Genghis did not treat lightly.
"I ask one thing of you, Barchuk, before we go out to them," he said.