CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Sorhatani was tugged from sleep by the creak of the floor. She woke with a start to see Kublai standing by her bed, his expression grim. His eyes were red and she was suddenly afraid of what he would say. Though years had passed, the memory of Tolui's death was still painfully fresh. She sat up sharply, pulling the blankets around her.

'What is it?' she demanded.

'It seems your sons are cursed to bear bad news, mother,' Kublai replied. He looked away as she stood and removed her shapeless nightdress, pulling on clothes from the day before.

'Tell me,' she said, yanking at a tunic's buttons.

'The khan is dead. Ogedai is dead,' Kublai replied, staring out of the window at the night outside the city. 'His Guards found him. I heard them and I went to see.'

'Who else knows?' Sorhatani said, all sleep forgotten as the news sank in.

Kublai shrugged. 'They sent someone to tell Torogene. The palace is still quiet, at least for the moment. They found him in the gardens, mother, without a mark on him.'

'Thank God for that at least. His heart was weak, Kublai. Those of us who knew have feared this day for a long time. Have you seen the body?' she asked.

He winced at such a question and the memory it evoked. 'I did. Then I left and came to tell you.'

'You were right. Now listen to me. There are things we must do now, Kublai, as the news begins to spread. Or before summer you will see your uncle Chagatai come riding through the gates of Karakorum to claim his birthright.'

Her son stared at her, unable to comprehend her sudden coldness.

'How can we stop him now?' he asked. 'How can anyone stop him?'

Sorhatani was already moving towards the door.

'He is not the heir, Kublai. Guyuk stands in line and in his way. We must send a fast rider to Tsubodai's army. Guyuk is in danger from this moment until he is declared khan by an assembly of the nation, just as his father was.'

Kublai gaped at her. 'Have you any idea how far away they are?' he said.

She halted, with her hand on the door.

'It does not matter if Guyuk stands at the end of the world, my son. He must be told. The yam, Kublai, the way stations. There are enough horses between us and Tsubodai, are there not?'

'Mother, you don't understand. It is more than four thousand miles, maybe even five thousand. It would take months to bring word.'

'Well? Write the news on parchment,' she snapped. 'Is that not how it works? Send a rider with a sealed message for Guyuk alone. Can these messengers hand a private letter over such a distance?'

'Yes,' Kublai replied, shocked by her intensity. 'Yes, of course.'

'Then run, boy! Run to Yao Shu's offices and write the news down. Get the news moving to the one who must have it.' She wrestled a ring from her hand and shoved it into his palm.

'Use your father's ring to seal it in wax and get the first rider on his way. Make him understand there has never been a message as important as this one. If there was ever a reason to create the scout line, this is it.'

Kublai broke into a sprint down the corridors. Sorhatani bit her lip as she watched him go before turning the other way, towards Torogene's rooms. Already, she could hear raised voices somewhere nearby. The news would not be kept in the city. As the sun rose, it would fly from Karakorum in all directions. She felt sadness swell in her at the thought of Ogedai, but pressed it down, clenching her fists. There was no time to grieve. The world would never be the same after the day to come. Kublai had cause to thank his mother as he sat at Yao Shu's writing desk. The door to the chancellor's workrooms had been replaced by carpenters, but the holes for the new locks still sat ready, clean and sanded. It had swung open at just a push and Kublai had shivered in the cold as he took a Chin tinderbox and scratched sparks with a flint and iron until a wisp of tinder blew into flame. The lamp was small and he kept it well shuttered, but there were already voices and movements in the palace. He looked for water, but there was nothing, so he spat on the inkstone and blackened his fingers rubbing a paste. Yao Shu kept his badger-hair brushes neatly and Kublai worked fast with the thinnest of them, marking the Chin characters on the parchment with delicate precision.

He had barely finished a few stark lines and sanded them dry when the door creaked open and he looked up nervously to see Yao Shu standing there in a sleeping robe.

'I do not have time to explain,' Kublai said curtly as he stood. He folded the vellum parchment, goatskin beaten and stretched until it was as thin as yellow silk. The lines that would change the nation were hidden, and before Yao Shu could speak, Kublai dripped wax and jammed his father's ring down, leaving a deep impression. He faced Ogedai's chancellor with a strained expression. Yao Shu stared at the neat package and the glistening wax as Kublai fanned it in the air to dry. He could not understand the tension he saw in the younger man.

'I saw the light. Half the palace is awake, it seems,' Yao Shu said, deliberately blocking the door as Kublai moved towards it. 'You know what is happening?'

'It is not my place to tell you, chancellor,' Kublai replied. 'I am on the khan's business.' He met Yao Shu's eyes steadily, refusing to be cowed.

'I'm afraid I must insist on an explanation for this…intrusion before I let you go,' Yao Shu replied.

'No, you will not insist. This is not your business, chancellor. It is a matter of family.'

Kublai did not let his hand drift to the sword he wore on his hip. He knew the chancellor could not be intimidated with a blade. They locked eyes and Kublai kept silent, waiting.

With a grimace, Yao Shu stepped aside to let him pass, his gaze falling onto the desk with its still-wet inkstone and writing materials scattered in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Kublai had already vanished, his footsteps echoing.

It was not far to the yam way station, the central hub of a network that extended as far as Chin lands to the east and beyond. Kublai raced through the palace outbuildings, across a courtyard and along a cloister around a garden, where the wind caught him up and passed him with a cold breath. He could see torches in the garden, lighting a spot in the distance as men gathered by the khan's body. Yao Shu would hear the terrible news soon enough.

Out of the palace, he ran along a street made grey in the dawn. He skidded on the cobbles as he rounded a corner and saw the lamps of the yam. There was always someone awake there, at every hour of the day. He called as he passed under the stone arch into a large yard, with horse stalls on either side. Kublai stood panting, listening as a pony snorted and tapped the door of its stall with its hoof. Perhaps the animal sensed the excitement that gripped him; he did not know.

It was just moments before a burly figure came into the yard. Kublai saw the yam master had only one hand, his job a compensation for losing his ability to fight. He tried not to look at the stump as the man approached.

'I speak with the authority of Sorhatani and Torogene, wife to Ogedai Khan. This has to reach Tsubodai's army as fast as you have ever run before. Kill horses and men if you have to, but get it into the hands of the heir, Guyuk. No other but Guyuk. His hands alone. Do you understand?'

The old warrior gaped at him.

'What is so urgent?' he began. It seemed the news had not yet spread to those who carried it. Kublai made a decision. He needed the man to jump quickly and not waste a moment longer.

'The khan is dead,' he said flatly. 'His heir must be told. Now move, or give up your post.'

The man was already turning away and calling for whoever was on duty that night. Kublai stayed to watch the pony brought out to a taciturn young rider. The scout stiffened as he heard the order to kill horses and men, but he understood and nodded. The papers went deep into a leather satchel that the scout strapped tightly to his back. At a run, yam servants brought a saddle that jingled with every movement.