As the Nadir force topped the hills around the campsite, Chien’s trained eye swept over them. There were almost three hundred men in the attacking group and his pride swelled. Here, at last, was a compliment from the barbarians: three hundred against twenty. Chien could almost feel Sukai’s joy, watching as the twenty men ran to their horses. Sukai took up his position in the centre, drawing both his swords. Nagasi, in Chien’s red coat, was beside him.
Screaming their battle cries the Nadir charged. Sukai, forming the point of a wedge, kicked his horse into a gallop to meet them. Dust swirled under the horses’ hooves. Chien made to stand, but Oshi tugged nervously at his jerkin and reluctantly Chien sat. He could see Sukai cutting and cleaving a path through the Nadir ranks, and could just make out the features of the traitor Kubai at the rear. Sukai almost reached him, but a spear was thrust through his throat; he killed the wielder, plunged his second blade into the body of a Nadir warrior and fell from the saddle. The battle was brief, but Chien waited until he could count the Nadir fallen. Almost ninety of the enemy had been killed or wounded.
Kubai rode through the Nadir ranks and dismounted alongside Sukai’s body, which he kicked three times. Then he hacked the head from the neck and raised it by the hair, swinging round and finally hurling it away to roll in the dust.
Chien backed away to the horses, Oshi following.
‘They fought well, lord,’ said Oshi.
Chien nodded and vaulted to the saddle. ‘The Khan will pay dearly for Sukai’s death. I swear this on the souls of my ancestors.’
Turning his horse to the south-east, Chien led the way towards the distant mountains. His sword on his back, his hunting bow in his hand, he flicked the reins and let the stallion run. The wind was cold on his shaved head, but his blood was hot with the memory of the battle.
The distant mountains rose jagged against the sky, awesome in their size, clouds swirling about their peaks.
‘Will we cross them, lord?’ asked Oshi fearfully.
‘There is a narrow pass that does not offer perils to the traveller. We will go there.’
‘Do they have a name, these mountains? Do spirits wander there?’
‘They are the Mountains of the Moon . . . and spirits wander everywhere, Oshi. Do not concern yourself.’
‘I am concerned only for you, lord. Where will I find food to prepare for you? Where will you bathe? How can I clean your clothes?’
Chien smiled and hauled back on the reins, allowing the stallion to walk. He turned to Oshi. ‘I did not bring you with me so that you could serve me. I brought you because you are an old man and a friend, Oshi. You served my father with diligence and loyalty, and me with loyalty and affection. I still remember sitting upon your knee and listening to fanciful tales of dragons and heroes. I remember you letting me drink seichi, and eat rice-cakes by your fireside. It was you, Oshi, who cured me of my childhood fears: my nightmares. Do not call me lord any longer. Call me Chien, as you used to when I was a child.’
‘You have decided to die then, lord?’ whispered Oshi, blinking back tears.
‘I do not think that even I can hope to take on the Nadir nation and survive, Oshi. I am pledged to kill Jungir Khan. If necessary I will walk into his palace and do it before all of his generals. Do you believe I can walk away from such a deed?’
‘You could kill him with an arrow,’ ventured Oshi.
‘Indeed. But then he would not know for what crime he is slain. No, it will be with a sword. But first we must ascertain the fate of Mai-syn. Once that is accomplished, we will find a ship for you to return home.’
‘I could not leave you, lord . . . Chien. What would I do? What would you do without me? We will kill the Khan together.’
‘Someone must take the news back to the Emperor. I will also give you letters to my wives. You will execute my will.’