"Not too bad," Yamun commented with a sigh. "Give the prisoners the choice of service or death. Those that join us are assigned to Shahin's command." He coughed a little and then wheezed out the rest. "What about Manass? The governor?"

"He was cowardly and did not come out, Father. Our messengers have already delivered the heads of his generals. I thought you would want this done," Jad answered, sliding closer to the bed. "He sends back messages of peace and friendship. Manass will be ours."

"And soon all of Khazari," added Goyuk, glancing at Koja to see how the priest reacted.

"Indeed, all of Khazari," agreed Yamun.

"Were the assassins from Manass?" Jad asked.

"It makes sense," Goyuk concurred.

"No, it doesn't," Yamun disagreed with a weak sigh. The two khans looked at him in surprise. "Why would the governor send his army if he had assassins? Besides, Afrasib is one of Bayalun's people." The khahan let the point sink in for a moment while he recovered his strength. "What was this creature called, the one that attacked me?"

"A hu hsien, Khahan," Koja explained as he fixed Yamun's covers. "They are evil spirits who often do men harm. I heard tales of them at my temple. They appear as foxes normally, but can disguise themselves as people. It is said the emperor of Shou Lung uses them as spies because they can change their shape."

"It could have been this emperor," Jad offered.

"The emperor of Shou," Yamun mused. "Perhaps."

"You have many enemies, Yamun," Goyuk pointed out. "Why would this emperor attack you now?"

"Why, indeed?" Yamun slowly pulled one arm out from under the sheets and began to stroke his chin. "Perhaps he fears me. Perhaps he knows that I can conquer his land." Yamun's eyes glazed slightly. Koja quickly wiped the khahan's sweaty brow with a warm cloth. Yamun closed his eyes and then spoke again. "So, one of Bayalun's wizards was involved."

Koja nodded. "Yes, Khahan—er—Yamun."

"You shouldn't have let them die," Jad pointed out. "We could have made him talk."

"Your father's guards were most incensed and did not heed my suggestions," Koja answered defensively.

"Still, they should not have died," Jad snapped, his jaw stubbornly set. "Perhaps we'd now know who was responsible for the attack on the khahan."

"Do you have their bodies?" the priest suddenly asked, turning to Jad and Goyuk.

The prince was taken aback by the lama's question. "Yes. Yes, we do," he answered, flustered.

"Perhaps you can have your answer," Koja offered mysteriously. "See that their bodies are not burned. If mighty Furo is willing, I will speak to them." Confused, the prince looked into the gloom at the priest.

"Afrasib is Bayalun's man. Then she's suspect, unless the wizard acted on his own. Bayalun. The emperor of Shou. Perhaps one, perhaps none," the khahan murmured feebly from his bed. "I do have many enemies." Yamun paused, his strength temporarily exhausted. The others sat silently, considering his words.

"How long can I be dead?" the khahan asked suddenly.

"What?" Jad blurted out.

"I want everyone to think I'm dead. How long can you keep the army together?" Yamun turned toward Jad.

The prince thought for a little bit. "Without you, two, maybe three days. There are already rumors."

"I say four or five days. The men are good men. They listen to your son," contradicted Goyuk, punctuating his comment by sucking on his lip.

"Jad, you'll keep them together as long as you must. No one must know what's happened me," Yamun said in the best commanding tone his weak voice could manage.

"But, why?" Koja asked. "Don't you want to reassure your men?"

"Someone—Bayalun, the Shou emperor, or someone else—wants me dead. They're sure to have more plans in mind. If I'm dead they'll reveal themselves by their actions," Yamun explained as if he were talking to a child. His speech was stopped by a fit of coughing. Jad and Goyuk looked away, politely ignoring the khahan's weakness.

The priest helped Yamun sit up to clear his throat. "You need rest." Yamun, still wheezing, tried to wave Koja off, but the priest refused to take his seat. He pulled the blankets up to wrap them over the khahan's shoulders. "You need rest now, unless you want to die."

Yamun was wracked by another fit of coughing. "All right," he gasped out. "Go to your tents, all of you. Jad, I'm depending on you. Listen to Goyuk and the priest. Now, leave me." He sank back onto the cushions, breathing noisily between the intermittent coughing fits.

Jad and Goyuk exchanged worried glances and then bowed to the floor. Silently the two took their leave. As they went out the door, Koja took a blanket from a pile at the foot of Yamun's bed and wrapped himself up in it. He curled up on the floor beside the Illustrious Emperor of All People and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. Tonight he would stay in Yamun's yurt, to watch over his patient—his anda.

10

Dead Voices

The only glow that lit the darkness came from a rough crystal, the size of a large egg, nested on a tripod of wrought iron. The stand's small legs ended in finely chiselled rams' heads covered in gilt. Small, facetted garnets decorated the curling horns of the beasts, tapering back into the black iron of the supports.

The crystal shown dimly with the warm colors of sunlight. Chanar marveled at it. Staring into the stone was like looking out on a sunny morning through a small hole in the tent wall. Warmth and light danced in front of his eyes, just beyond his reach. When he stared into the stone closely, he thought he saw shapes flicker and fade deep in its heart. He wondered what Bayalun, sitting across from him, saw as she hunched over the orb.

The khadun chanted. Her nose was practically pressed against the crystal, and her hands were carefully cupped around the base of the tripod.

Chanar squirmed. His legs were going to sleep, but he didn't want to move for fear of disturbing Bayalun. She had been sitting in the same position for the last half-hour, repeating the same chant over and over again. Chanar wondered how she managed it. The chant was mind-numbing. At first he thought it was Tuigan, badly distorted, but that quickly proved to be wrong. Whatever she was saying, it was in no language Chanar had ever heard. The general was sure of that. He'd had thirty minutes to listen and be certain.

Abruptly Mother Bayalun ended the chant with a huffing sigh of exhaustion. She sat up straight, arching her back, and rubbed her temples hard with her fingertips. The crystal still glowed between them.

"Look," she commanded as she lightly touched the stone. The stone's glow shimmered and then expanded, filling the air between them. Bayalun spread her hands open and the light spread, too.

A scene formed and grew within the light. It was a yurt in the bright morning sun. Guards stood rigidly outside, ringing it. A tall standard set near the doorway flapped in the breeze.

"That's Yamun's yurt!" Chanar exclaimed.

Mother Bayalun laughed. "General Chanar, you are so charming," she said. "Yes, that is the khahan's tent." She stood up, leaning heavily on her staff, and stiffly walked to his side. "Look," she commanded again.

Chanar peered closely at the scene. "There's old Goyuk ... and Jad," he whispered, pointing at the image.

"There is no need to be quiet," Bayalun croaked out. She stopped to clear her throat. "They cannot hear us."

Chanar nodded, still watching the scene. He stepped back to give the image space. The general wasn't about to let it touch him.

"Look!" Bayalun suddenly hissed. "Look at the banner! It's just as they said." She pointed at the pole standing in front of the yurt. From it, gently swinging in the breeze they couldn't feel, were nine black yak tails.