Temuge sighed in pleasure as the new servant worked at a muscle, his thumbs digging deeply. Perhaps it was not such a loss, after all. Old Sen had known nothing of oils and massage, and though his presence had been relaxing, the new man talked whenever Temuge allowed him to speak, explaining any aspect of Chin society that caught Temuge's attention.

"That is very good, Ma Tsin," he murmured. "The tenderness is almost gone."

"My master is welcome," the spy replied. He did not enjoy rubbing the man's back, but he had once spent almost a year as a brothel guard and he knew how the girls relaxed their customers.

"I saw the armies move away this morning, master," he said lightly. "I have never seen so many horses and men in one place."

Temuge grunted. "It makes my life simpler to have them far away. I have had enough of their complaints and bickering. I think my brother has as well."

"They will bring back gold for the khan, I do not doubt it," the spy went on. He began to pummel the heavy muscles of Temuge's back, before finding another knot to work with stiff fingers.

"We do not need more of it," Temuge muttered. "There are already carts of coins and only the Chin recruits seem interested."

The spy paused for a moment. This was one aspect of the Mongol mind that confused him. Temuge was already relaxed, but he continued to work, trying to understand.

"It is true, then, that you do not seek wealth?" he asked. "I have heard it said."

"What would we do with it? My brother has collected gold and silver because there are some who look greedily on such hoards. But what use is it? Real wealth is not found in soft metals."

"You could buy horses with it, though, weapons, even land," the spy persisted. Under his hands, he felt Temuge shrug.

"From whom? If a pile of coins will make another man give us his horses, we take them from him. If he has land, it is ours anyway, to ride as we please."

The spy blinked in irritation. Temuge had no reason to lie to him, but bribery was not going to be easy if he spoke the truth. He tried again, suspecting it was hopeless.

"In Chin cities, gold can buy huge houses by a lake, delicate foods, even thousands of servants." He struggled for more examples. For one who had been born into a society that used coins, it was difficult to explain something so obvious. "It can even buy influence and favors from powerful men, lord. Rare pieces of art, perhaps as gifts for your wives. It makes all things possible."

"I understand," Temuge replied irritably. "Now be silent."

The spy almost gave up. The khan's brother could not grasp the concept. In truth, it made him realize the artificial nature of his own world. Gold was too soft for any real use. How had it ever been seen as valuable?

"What if you wanted a man's horse in the tribes, master? Let us say it is a horse better than all the others."

"If you value your hands, you will not speak again," Temuge snapped. The spy worked in silence for a time and Temuge sighed. "I would give him five horses of lesser breed, or two captured slaves, or six bows, or a sword made by a skilled man, whatever he wanted, depending on my need." Temuge chuckled, drifting toward sleep. "If I told him I had a bag of valuable metal that would buy him another horse, he would tell me to try it on some other fool."

Temuge sat up then. The evening sky was clear and he yawned. It had been a busy day, arranging the departure of so many.

"I think I will take a few drops of my medicine tonight, Ma Tsin, to help me sleep."

The spy helped Temuge into a silk robe. The man's pretensions amused him, but he could not escape the frustration he felt. The power of the small khans had been strangled when Genghis gave the order for the tumans to form. It was no loss. None of them had real influence in the camp. The spy had cut his losses and worked quickly to replace the servant killed by the assassin. Moving at such a speed brought many dangers, and he felt the strain grow daily. He still thought Temuge a vain and shallow man, but he had not found a lever that might tempt him into a betrayal, nor any better candidate. The black tent had to come down, but Genghis could not know the agony of Yenking. The spy considered the lord regent had set him a near-impossible task.

Lost in his own thoughts, the spy prepared the draught of hot airag and added a spoonful of the shaman's black paste, scraping it out of a pot. When Temuge wasn't looking, he sniffed at it, wondering if it was an opiate. The nobles smoked opium in the cities and seemed attached to their pipes, much as Temuge was to the drink.

"We are almost at the end of the supply, master," he said.

Temuge sighed. "Then I will have to ask for more from the shaman."

"I will go to him, master. You should not be troubled with small things."

"That is true," Temuge replied, pleased. He accepted the cup and sipped at it, closing his eyes in pleasure. "Go to him, but tell him nothing of what you do for me. Kokchu is not a pleasant man. Make sure you do not tell him anything you have seen and heard in this ger."

"It would be easier if you could buy the paste from him with gold coins, master," the spy said.

Temuge replied without opening his eyes. "Kokchu does not want your gold. I think he cares only for power." He drained the cup, grimacing at the bitter dregs, but still tipping it back to catch every drop. The thought of the empty pot troubled him strangely. He would need it again in the morning.

"See him tonight, Ma Tsin. If you can, try to discover how he makes the paste, so that you can prepare it yourself. I have asked him before, but he hides it from me. I think he enjoys the fact that he has some hold on me still. If you can find the secret, I will not forget."

"Your will, master," the spy replied. He was due back at the wall that night, to report. There was time to see the shaman before he went. Anything and everything could be useful, and as things stood, he had achieved little in the camp, while Yenking starved.

GenghisLordsoftheBow

T HAT SUMMER WAS THE MOST PEACEFUL Genghis could remember. If it had not been for the looming presence of the city that filled the eye every day, it would have been a restful time. The khan's attempts to rebuild his fitness were hampered by a persistent cough that left him gasping and only worsened as the year turned cold. Kokchu had become a regular visitor to his ger, bringing syrups of honey and herbs so bitter that Genghis could barely swallow them. They brought only temporary relief and Genghis lost weight alarmingly, so that his bones showed white under skin that looked sallow and ill.

Throughout the cold months, Yenking sat on the edges of his vision, unchanged and solid, mocking his presence in that land. It was almost a year since he had won the battle at the Badger's Mouth. There were times when he would have given anything to be able to travel home and regain his strength in the clean hills and streams.

In the grip of the lethargy that affected them all, Genghis barely looked up when Kachiun darkened the door of the great ger. When he saw his brother's expression, he forced himself upright.

"You're bursting with news, Kachiun. Tell me it's something that matters."

"I think so," Kachiun replied. "The scouts from the south say there is a relief column heading this way. As many as fifty thousand soldiers and a huge herd of prime cattle."

"Khasar missed them, then," Genghis replied, his mood lifting. "Or they came from somewhere off his path." Both men knew armies could pass each other only a valley apart. The land was vast beyond imagining, coloring the dreams of men forced to stay in one place for longer than they ever had before.

Kachiun was relieved to see a spark of the old pleasure in Genghis. His older brother had been weakened by the poison running in his blood, anyone could see that. Even as he tried to reply, his wind was stolen by a fit of coughing that left him red-faced and clinging to the central spar of the ger.