David Cook - Horselords

The lama waved to a servant to bring a pot of simmering herbs. It was placed carefully at his side, along with a colorful strip of woven cloth. The lama dipped the cloth in the pot and gingerly lifted the steaming fabric out, holding it up to cool. Finally, Koja laid the herb-infused cloth across Yamun's chest, folding it back and forth several times. With shaking fingers, the priest pressed it into position and then carefully covered the khahan once again with the blankets.

The lama finally got up from his examination. "He heard us. It is a sign he is getting better." Jad's face broke into a shaky smile of relief. "But only a little better," cautioned Koja.

"But what is this plan, lama?" Goyuk asked, breaking the tension.

Thankful for the excuse to change the subject, Koja hurriedly launched into an explanation. "Khans, Furo has seen fit to answer my prayers and grant me the power to speak with the dead. Not with the illustrious khahan," he hastily added, "but to talk to one of his assassins."

"What good is this?" Jad asked, looking away from his father.

Koja shook his head. "I may learn something about the poison used on the khahan. You may learn who is to blame for the attack."

"I know who is to blame—didn't you yourself say the creature was an agent of the Shou? And didn't you say the governor of Manass had a Shou advisor at his side? What more is there to know?" Jad said, dismissing Koja's last suggestion with a wave.

"There was Afrasib, too," Goyuk pointed out. "How does he fit in?"

"He was a wizard," Jad snapped, as if that explained it all.

"The khahan, he would find out. Try what the lama say," Goyuk urged.

Jad took a deep breath. He was young and unused to making such important decisions. "Goyuk," he said slowly, "because you advise this, I'll try the priest's ideas." He pivoted to face Koja. "What do we do?"

"Have the bodies brought to the tent, and we will perform the rite to summon their spirits. Then you can ask your questions through me."

"You mean to bring the bodies here, to the royal yurt? I won't allow it," Jad said defiantly, his young eyes flashing. "Since my father is stricken, I'm in command. The dead bodies will pollute the yurt. That cannot be allowed."

"But I must have the bodies. I must touch them," protested Koja.

Jad mulled over the lama's words. "Very well, but it must be done in secret, and it cannot be done here." The prince got to his feet and paced back and forth as he gave his commands. "Goyuk, have one of the nightguards—not the dayguards—go to Sechen the Wrestler's yurt and order him to come with us. Issue a proclamation: all khans are to assemble their men this evening for a review by their prince. That will keep the curious occupied and out of our way."

"By your will, it shall be done," Goyuk declared as he left.

"Thank you, wise counsellor," Jad replied as the tent flap fell closed. Exhausted, the son turned back to his father. Spotting Koja, Jad stopped. "And you, priest, go and get yourself ready."

Koja bowed and then left. There was little he needed to prepare, but he obeyed all the same. Yamun would manage without his care for a little while. As he walked back to his yurt, Koja could feel the gloom that had settled on the camp. The warriors were tense, uncertain of the future.

Back in his tent, Koja quickly gathered the few things he would need. Hodj prepared him a hot meal, the priest's first in days. The food revived Koja, bringing him back from the edge of exhaustion. The meal finished, the priest opened his scrolls and once more reviewed the sutras he needed to know for the upcoming rite.

He was still reading when Sechen brought horses. Packing up a small pouch, Koja joined the others. They rode silently across yesterday's battlefield. Most of the dead men were gone, taken by relatives or friends to be properly buried. A few still lay where they had fallen, their bodies looted. Still, the battlefield was far from clean. Littering the field were the bodies of horses. Nearly all the dead animals had been left to rot. The victors had taken what saddles, bridles, and tack they could carry, but the carcasses were left undisturbed. Only a few horses had been butchered for their meat. Most were puffy and bloated after many hours in the sun. Vermin were feasting on the carcasses. Vultures squawked at the riders as they went by. Jackals yipped when the men ventured too close.

Jad worried that they were being watched as the group rode along. The prince had forgone his fine white stallion with the black and red saddle for a plain black mare and a saddle borrowed from one of the dayguards. He did not want to attract undue attention. Several of the dayguards had asked to ride along, since the prince was almost certain to be their new khahan, but he had firmly refused them.

Ahead of the prince, Koja, too, rode quietly, thinking of what was to come. He was worried. When he'd made the offer to summon up the spirits of the assassins, he hadn't considered the possible results. What if he were wrong and the assassins were paid by Prince Ogandi? The farther they rode, the less confident Koja became.

"Down there," said Sechen, interrupting the thoughts of both men. "We hid the bodies down there." He pointed to a small overhang that projected from the other side of the gully. "That way there would be no questions."

"Good," Jad said. "You have served my father well. He will see that you are rewarded."

"To serve him is my only reward," answered the wrestler. Koja had no doubts the man meant every word.

Stopping at the edge of the gully, the group dismounted in the shade of the trees. Sechen hobbled the prince's stallion so it could not wander. The rest slipped off the bits and bridles so the mares could graze comfortably. The mares would naturally stay near Jad's stallion, so there was no need to hobble them. Leaving their mounts, the men slid and stumbled down the bank to where the bodies were hidden.

If the battlefield hadn't already stank of death, they would have smelled the bodies some distance away. With so much death around, the smell of the corpses was only a minor thing. The heat of the day had not been kind to the dead. Drawn by the decay, flies buzzed thickly around the small shelf where the bodies were tucked. Sechen reached in, brushing the cloud of insects away, and pulled the corpses out.

The bodies had already started to rot, and something had been gnawing at them. A noxious, poisonous wind exhaled from their inner cavities as the two corpses came tumbling out of the crack. They flopped and rolled down the slope until they jammed up on a small pile of rocks. Koja felt a quick squeeze of queasiness and resolutely choked it back. This was all his idea; he couldn't be sick now. Goyuk and Jad stepped back, well away from the bloated remains. Sechen quickly hurried away as soon as his job was done.

Koja was not as fortunate as the others, for the spell he meant to cast required him to touch the bodies. However, he was slightly prepared. He pulled a spice-infused cloth and pressed it over his face. The heady smell made him dizzy, but at least now his nostrils weren't filled with the odor of rotten flesh.

"Get started," Jad said impatiently.

The priest thrust a small stick of incense into the ground, then waved to Sechen. Reluctantly, the tall fellow shambled over with a small metal cage hung from a chain. In it glowed a hot ember. Taking the chain, Koja picked out the ember with silver tongs and touched it to the incense. Within seconds, a thin stream of sweetly scented smoke rose up from the little stick. As the incense filled the air around him, Koja settled back and began chanting sutras. He had never used these prayers before, but knew they were the words needed to summon back spirits.

The others watched him silently. Still suspicious of the priest, Jad signaled to Sechen, making like he was drawing a bow. The wrestler nodded in understanding. Quietly he took up his bow and held it ready, just in case the priest attempted to cast a spell on the prince.

Everyone waited nervously for Koja to finish his chant. It seemed that the priest droned on forever. The words were hypnotic, seductive.

Koja was oblivious to the strange sound of his chant. All his concentration was spent in uttering the words Furo poured into his mind. Simply saying the chant required an effort that cramped the muscles of his face. His upper lip trembled, and the back of his neck tingled. He could sense forces swirling about him, called by the musical quality of the words. His vision narrowed to a single point.

Then, abruptly, the words stopped. Koja leaned forward and touched the cold, blue forehead of the dead wizard. A pale red light swelled out of the late Afrasib's slack mouth, winding slowly around the dead wizard's face. Gradually, the orb rose, trailing tendrils of light that continued to play over the cold face. As the orb moved, it elongated and increased in size.

Koja sat back in surprise. Summoning up dead spirits was new to him; he had no idea what to expect. No one at the Red Mountain Temple ever mentioned a glowing light like this. As he watched, the light shimmered and expanded, slowly forming into something—a wispy, transparent form of Afrasib. The spirit opened its eyes, black voids, and stared directly at Koja. The lama shuddered as he looked into the dark pits.

The priest spoke over his shoulder to the others, behind him. "The spirit is bound here for a short time," Koja whispered, afraid he might disturb the thing that hovered over Afrasib's body. "Quickly, what are your questions? I can only ask a few, so choose them carefully."

"Ask who it worked for," Jad hissed, sitting stiffly upright, concealing his fear.

Koja turned back to the spirit. "Who ordered you to kill Yamun?"

"The one who wanted it done," the spirit answered. Its voice came from midair, somewhere in the vicinity of its former mouth. It was Afrasib's voice, but cold and monotone.

"Ask the name," urged the prince.

"What is the name of the person who ordered this killing?"

"Ju-Hai Chou." The words drifted softly throughout the gully.

"Who is Ju-Hai Chou?" Jad wondered aloud. "No, don't ask that. Ask about Bayalun."

"Did Eke Bayalun know of the attack?"

The spirit languorously replied. "Mother Bayalun knows many things. Would she not know this?"

"Now the spirit questions us," the prince muttered in disgust.

"I cannot hold him much longer, Prince Jadaran," cautioned the lama. Sweat had broken out on his brow, and the strain of keeping the spirit bound was telling on him.

"Who is Ju-Hai Chou?" Goyuk broke in, taking up Jad's previous question. "This may tell us more."

"Who is Ju-Hai Chou, the one who ordered you to kill Yamun?" Koja strained to keep the spirit from slipping away. The light wavered and dimmed, then returned.

"The hu hsien," the voice echoed faintly. The image started to dwindle.

"What was his plan? Quickly, priest, ask!" Jad shouted, sensing that the contact was fading.

"Afrasib, what was Ju-Hai Chou's reason?" Koja blurted out.

"He was sent to help," the spirit intoned.

"Who sent him?" Koja quickly asked, before the spirit could fade.

"The Minister of State," was Afrasib's cryptic reply.

"Who was Ju-Hai Chou help—" Koja didn't finish the question. The light had shrunk in on itself, leaving only a small point that hung in the air for a few more seconds and then disappeared completely. The priest slid back from the dead bodies, thankful to Furo that it was over. "I am sorry. The spirit escaped me. It was very strong." He pulled off the scented cloth and bowed to the prince in apology.