This is the fourth chapter of the story begun in xiang.
samhain
Perched on their overlook, the two friends sat
cross-legged, enjoying the serenity of the whispering canyon. The
northerly wind played among the many-colored leaves, bringing a soft,
rasping song echoing to them from below.
"You’re right about the storm," said
Shan Yu, squinting into the sky. "There’s a halo around the
sun."
Lasuluun spat out his grass stalk and stood up,
dusting his hands. "Well, let’s see what tomorrow holds for us,
then. If the horses are due today, we might be able to see them come in
from above. You with me?"
They hiked several hundred feet higher in silence,
the only sound the crunching of long-dead scrub branches under their
boots. Amidst the joint firs and sage, the leaves of small, succulent
herbs were yellowing as their roots prepared for winter.
Lasuluun and Shan mounted several false peaks
before they finally reached the summit. One of Sukhe’s sentries was
there, sitting on a flat rock and whittling a small chunk of pine as he
gazed out over the southeastern flatlands. He had seen them coming from a
distance, and as they came near, he rose and respectfully greeted them
before returning to his watch.
The village lay more than a thousand feet below
them now, and they could view the plains in every direction. The
southeastern edge of the steppe where they stood dropped severely as
sheer, rocky cliffs for hundreds of feet. At their base, huge stones
dotted the grasslands where they had tumbled and lain eroding for
thousands of years. Tucked into the foothills, around the bend from the
village itself, they could see eight large corrals made of loosely
connected split pine rails. In one of them, a herd of shaggy yaks were
lazily cropping the grass, and grazing around them were many piebald,
dark-faced sheep. The other corrals were empty, though Shan Yu estimated
that each could hold two hundred horses without crowding. Small chutes
were fenced off at the end of each of the empty corrals, offering a
confined space in which a wrangler could safely handle and examine a
flighty horse herded in from the larger enclosures.
More surprising was a large, rectangular building
constructed of great, round logs. The roof was made of pine timbers and
sun-baked clay, and appeared to have been coated with pitch and resin. It
was not quite Chinese in appearance, though it seemed as if its architects
might have seen, or at least had described for them, Chinese roofs.
Perhaps they had attempted to imitate them.
"Look at that," said Shan Yu scanning the area
appreciatively. "It’s hard to believe a settlement like Urga
has grown here since we last passed through. I’ve never seen
anything like that outside of China. Looks big enough to hold everyone in
the village!"
Lasuluun nudged his friend’s arm with his
elbow and motioned with his chin. A plume of dust was rising at the mouth
of the valley about ten miles east of the corrals.
The sentry spied the herd at almost the same time.
He rose, took an enormous breath, cupped his hands to his face and dropped
an ear-splitting whoop down on the village, his entire body tensing with
the effort. He turned to the neighboring peaks and repeated the call for
the other sentries. The sound of his voice echoed for several moments,
bouncing along the canyon walls. He waited, watching the village below.
A minute later, an answering call rose faintly from below, voiced by at
least ten men.
The sentry turned to Shan Yu and Lasuluun, his
tanned face deeply creased in a wide grin. He raised both fists and
gestured triumphantly to them. They were going to war!
Shan Yu raised his own fist in reply, then turned
to Lasuluun. "Right on schedule." He sighed. "I was
getting tired of all this peace and quiet, anyway. I hope this healer of
theirs shows up soon. We can use an extra pair of experienced hands. We
need to get moving."
The two watched for a long while as the growing
dust cloud spiraled skyward for a distance, then dropped back down behind
the herd as the horses drifted closer. Eventually, they could make out
the multi-colored bodies surging together at a steady trot. There were
more than two thousand, collected from the herds of dozens of central and
southern tribes who had agreed to send them as relief mounts. Sukhe had
pledged his people to prepare the horses while soldiers from the other
tribes went ahead to the high desert meeting ground. Riding at the flanks
of the herd were about a dozen horsemen. They trotted easily alongside,
casually rounding up any strays that lagged behind or attempted to break
for the foothills.
As the riders approached the enclosures, half of
them broke away and galloped ahead to open the corral gates.
Effortlessly, the remaining herdsmen pushed the nervous creatures
forward. Some of them shied, probably never having seen a fence. Firmly
pressed, they bolted inside, tossing their heads and fanning their tails
in alarm as they trotted as far from the humans as they could. It was not
long before all the horses were milling about in five corrals. A few of
the calmer beasts slowed down and began hungrily cropping the dense,
drying grass carpeting the enclosures.
"Nicely done." Shan said.
"Want to take a closer look?" Las
offered.
"Might as well see what kind of horseflesh
we'll be riding."
Saluting the sentry, the two set off the way they
had come. Beyond the brow of the summit, and out of the sentry’s
sight, Shan Yu glanced furtively to be sure no one could be watching from
above or below, then sent Lasuluun a silent dare from beneath his brows.
He sprang down the slope, taking gigantic, gravity-assisted leaps from
precipice to loose earth and sliding half the way down on his heels. Las
was right behind him, stumbling and panting with the effort of the race.
They inhaled as much dust as air, each laughing breathlessly at the
others’ missteps and falls.
"This is really stupid!" Lasuluun
chortled, sliding past Shan Yu on his backside.
"You're right, Eejee! We could break a
leg!" Shan Yu puffed, spitting dust.
As they neared the treeline where the ground
leveled, both of them lengthened their strides until they were running
full out.
"Then we’d have to stay here and relax
for a few weeks!" Las gasped, as he pulled past Shan Yu, beat him to
the first line of trees and trotted to a halt, wheezing.
Huffing deeply, Shan Yu pulled up beside his
friend. They looked at each other’s dust-caked faces, as if suddenly
remembering why they were there. As he caught his breath, Las put his
hands on his hips and gazed back up at the slope from where they had
come.
"That’s not going to happen, is it,"
he said, suddenly sober. "We both have scores to settle."
Shan Yu clapped him lightly between the shoulder
blades and continued walking down the hill. "Then let’s go see what
we have to work with."
Shan Yu led the way, travelling along the slope
towards the center of the canyon. The soft rush of the runoff called to
them long before the spicy, earthy aroma of willows, alders and birches
told them they had found the stream. They walked along water-smoothed
boulders until they found a flat area where a deep, swirling pool had
formed. Shan knelt beside the water, leaned over and buried himself to
his waist in the icy water, sending a few large, speckled fish darting for
the opposite bank. He stayed underwater for a moment, standing with his
hands on the pebbled bottom, then pushed himself out quickly, gasping from
the cold and sending a great spray of silver droplets arcing behind him.
More to humor his friend than for any other reason, Lasuluun rinsed off as
well before they continued downstream and found their way to the
village.
They emerged from the trees into the village
square. Gaitan and Batu, still enjoying the company of the women under
the great beech tree, were lounging there among them, being hand fed a
midday meal. Gaitan spied his commanders, rose halfway and gave a
sheepish salute as they walked by. Batu did the same.
Shan Yu raised an eyebrow at the brothers and
motioned them to be at ease, but said nothing.
Out of their earshot, Las remarked, "Think they'll
share?"
"I thought you were more discriminating. You'd
take their leftovers?"
"Depends on how long it's been since I've
eaten."
Shan Yu scanned the square and nearby paths.
"I don’t see Ulan anywhere. You don’t suppose..."
Lasuluun gave a low, appreciative whistle.
"That’s got to be a new record. Even for him."
As they left the square and walked the dirt path
towards the small pasture where their horses had been left to graze, they
were met by Sukhe and a small group of riders. The village chieftain cast
a puzzled glance at their half-wet, half dust-caked clothes.
"Funny weather up there..." said Las,
trailing off as a sidelong glance told him that Shan Yu was once again the
stern commander.
"I’d like to take a look at the
herd," he said.
"I was about to suggest it," said Sukhe.
"By your leave, I will take you around the bend to the
corrals."
Lasuluun bent close to Shan Yu. "Want me to
round up the others?"
"No." Shan Yu gave an indulgent grin.
"They need this break. Besides, I have a feeling that if you tried
to ‘round up’ Ulan right now, he might put an arrow through your
eye." He gave Lasuluun’s shoulder a light tap with the flat of
his hand.
"You could use a bit of a break yourself,
brother. Don’t come along if you’d prefer to stay here and
relax a bit." He cast a meaningful look at the women surrounding
Gaitan and Batu.
Las followed his gaze and laughed. "No. You're
right. I'm not desperate enough to take what they leave behind. Let's
go."
The men made their way to the pasture at the edge
of the village where their horses grazed. Shan Yu’s mare spied her
master and trotted up, ears pricked.
Sukhe watched with surprise. "You do seem to have
a way with the beasts."
Shan Yu pulled his mount’s hackamore from the
fence and slipped it over her head while Lasuluun walked over to his own
horse. His eyes roved over his mare, instinctively checking her for
injuries or lameness. "I do like them."
"Then you will find it easy to work with Tianlin,"
said Sukhe.
"I’m eager to get started," Shan Yu
said. "Hope your Tianlin shows up by tomorrow."
"She’s never late for important
things," said Sukhe. He looked away up the canyon and seemed
distracted.
Shan Yu mounted and wheeled his mare to stand
beside Sukhe’s mount. "Tianlin is a woman?"
"Oh...did I not mention that?" Sukhe was
still staring up the canyon, and seemed to be completely lost in
thought.
Lasuluun rode up, disturbing Sukhe’s reverie.
"Let’s go!"
Sukhe and his riders led them out of the village
and onto the plains. As they rode, Shan Yu was struck by the spare beauty
of the steppe. It had been many years since he had traveled in such
prairies. Not since he had gone to live far north in the taiga. From
this level, the grasslands rising across the plains to the southeast had a
sweeping grandeur even more magnificent than when viewed from above.
Between rocky rises, each level fanned into high prairie that rolled for
miles, broken only by the jagged black of huge slate boulders thrusting up
from beneath the skin of the mountains. The north face of the mountain
dropped ragged, shelved cliffs into a densely wooded canyon.
With a soldier’s eye, he assessed the
landscape across which they would travel in a few days. The blind rises
between the prairies and the lack of protection afforded from below
troubled him. His small band, occupied with driving a herd of thousands,
would find it difficult to scout the flat surfaces of the higher steppes.
It would be easy for a hostile force to mount an ambush from above.
He tried to dismiss his misgivings. No one was
likely to cause trouble. The local tribes were allies. Still, he
promised himself to send scouts ahead of his company when the time came to
climb those steppes. And he would keep the herd close to the edge, near
the canyon. An enemy might be loathe to lie in wait there, for fear of
the deadly drop so close by.
Sukhe roused him from his contemplation, offering
him and Lasuluun some jerky from a pouch hanging at his pommel. Both
politely refused the first offer, accepting only after it was proferred a
second time. Shan Yu grasped his distractedly, reflexively thanking Sukhe
with a Chinese bow of his head that surprised Lasuluun and told him that
his friend was preoccupied.
Sukhe followed the Khagan's gaze. "Choosing
your path? Up the steppes and over the range into the desert?"
He nodded, absently chewing a strip of jerky while
still studying the lay of the land.
"Tianlin lives in that canyon," said Sukhe.
"The wooded one bordering the rising steppes."
Shan Yu looked at him in surprise. "She
doesn’t live in the village with you? That doesn’t seem very
safe."
The old chieftain smiled. "She stays with us
for long stretches, but usually prefers the solitude. I have tried to get
her to at least spend the winter with us. She did for a couple of years,
but then went back to her little stone hut in the canyon. She is quite
safe there. Not only do I post sentries to watch over her, but she is
widely known to the local tribes as a healer and shaman. They would be
foolish to do her harm. In the eight years she has lived with us she has
shown us spirit paths that were unknown to our people before." He
rubbed the blue snarl of tattoos twisting across his skull. Shan Yu
looked at them more closely, not recognizing their foreign patterns or
style.
Sukhe continued. "Her ancestors traveled from
the far West. They were healers, musicians and bards who migrated for
years across wild western lands and then along the Silk Road before they
finally reached China and settled in Lo Yang and in a little harbor
village north of Chien K’ang. Tianlin’s grandmother was a
powerful udgan. It is through her that Tianlin channels her own
magic."
The old man momentarily regained the faraway look
he had worn at the village pasture. "We have something very
important planned for this night." He looked directly into Shan
Yu’s eyes. "I am hoping at least as much as you that she
arrives by this evening."
Shan Yu looked off towards the southern mountains
where Tianlin was probably travelling at that moment. He smiled,
imagining a strong, weathered old priestess, still handsome, with bright
eyes and long, grey hair tied back with tassels and ceremonial beads and
bones. He had known a few other udgans, female shamans.
Unbeknownst to any but Lasuluun, he felt a greater kinship with them than
most other men of the steppes might, for his mother, Kong Mei, had been a
strong woman and a follower of the Dao. He wondered what he would find in
this Tianlin Udgan who had been born and raised in China.
The sound of whooped greetings floated to them from
the distance. The horse herders were rounding the bend and coming to meet
them. Urging his mount into a canter, Sukhe broke away from the group.
As he met the rider at the head of the wranglers, the two grasped forearms
and Sukhe leaned far over to wrap the younger man in a one-armed embrace,
thumping his back with gusto. As Shan Yu, Lasuluun and the others rode
up, the elder turned to them, his eyes shining.
"This is Qaidu, my first son."
Qaidu extended his arm to Shan Yu, who gripped it
and nodded a greeting.
"I am honored to meet you, Shan Yu
Khagan," said Qaidu, studying the famous chieftain’s visage with
some awe. "It will be my greatest honor to ride at your side to win
our ancestral lands back from the Khyatad."
"Kaaje sends word to you, Son," said
Sukhe. "She says that tomorrow is all she has been living
for."
Qaidu turned to his father with a wide grin and
gave a guileless, open laugh. "She’s all I’ve been able to
think about on this trip!" Suddenly realizing how he must have
sounded to his future military commanders, he looked askance and cleared
his throat behind his fist. But the smile did not leave his face.
"I made it back just in time."
Sukhe turned his mount and began leading the group
towards the corrals. "You needn't have hurried," he said wryly.
"Tianlin has not arrived yet."
Qaidu’s eyes widened slightly. "She
hasn’t? But tonight..."
A barely noticeable change of expression from Sukhe
told him to be silent. "She’ll be here. She’s never late
for important things." His face softened. "I almost hate to
load all these rituals on her at once just as she returns." He gave
a sharp laugh and urged his horse into a swift trot. "But
she’ll get over it!"
Lasuluun turned to Qaidu as the two of them rode
abreast. "From the sound of that exchange, I'm guessing that you're about
to have your wings clipped. You're being married tomorrow?"
Qaidu nodded. "When you see Kaaje, you will envy
me my loss of freedom." He smiled. "I've been waiting for this for
months. Tianlin is bringing supplies for the wedding feast all the way
from Chien K’ang. I can't believe she's so late. I guess that means
you have not met her."
"No. Just heard the name tossed
around."
"She’s different."
Shan Yu looked over, but the young man did not
elaborate. "I am honored beyond measure that the Khagan himself and his
famous warriors will be joining our celebration," he said.
Shan Yu and Lasuluun exchanged brief glances.
"It is our pleasure to join your family for this
great occasion, Qaidu," said Shan Yu.
"By your leave." He looked to Shan Yu for
permission to ride ahead to catch up to his father. The Warlord granted
it with a silent nod.
Once Qaidu was out of earshot, Shan Yu spoke from
the corner of his mouth, trying not to laugh. "So in order to keep peace
with our mighty ally Sukhe, we bless his son's wedding with our august
presence."
"I could not be more excited," Lasuluun said,
maintaining a serious face. "Ah, well." He switched to broken
Chinese. "Food and fodder must precede troops and
horses.’ Isn’t that what they say in your old home
town?"
Shan Yu winced. "You need to work on your
pronunciation. I think I know what you meant, but it’s not what you
said."
As they reached the corrals, Shan Yu pulled his
mare alongside the split pine fencing of the nearest, placed a hand on the
top rail and vaulted over it to dismount. The horses did not run from him
as he walked among them. He visually examined each one, occasionally
stopping to run his hand along a leg or rump where a wound showed red.
Those would be treated tomorrow. He chose one beast at random, took its
muzzle in his great hands, and, speaking softly to it, prized its mouth
open to look at its teeth.
Lasuluun walked up. Shan Yu relaxed most of the
force he had used to hold the horse’s mouth open, but still held its
muzzle as the horse loudly champed its jaws and twisted its head slightly
to escape the strong grip. Shan tilted the muzzle up for Lasuluun to see
inside the horse’s mouth as it chewed, working its tongue along its
palate.
"If this one is any indication, we’ll
have some filing to do," Shan Yu said. "Take a look at what
those molar spurs have done to his tongue." He released the horse
and looked around at the other beasts milling nearby.
"Some of these mares will be staying with you,
Sukhe," he called out. "Look at this one!" He slapped the
flanks of a dark bay mare whose belly bulged wide on either side. "She'll
drop that foal before three sunsets. Why did they even send her?"
As Sukhe walked up, the horses shied away. He
shook his head, clucking his tongue in disapproval. "I don’t
know. Some of the tribes’ horsemasters don’t seem to have as
much sense as ours. I gave our boys orders to bring the herd--not sort
through them. Well, the little mother horses will be safe with us through
the winter. Maybe safer than where they came from."
Shan Yu spent more than an hour strolling through
the herd, gauging the amount of work ahead of them. He decided that the
task could probably be done in two days, even if the storm broke and
robbed them of a few hours tomorrow.
"They look good," he said, clapping the
dust from his hands as he and Lasuluun emerged from the corral.
"Most of them seem in fine shape." His gaze strayed to the
great timber building at the base of the hill. "We saw that from
above. Very unusual."
"That is our Great Hall," said Sukhe, as the
three of mounted. "It was built apart from the village on that spot
because when Tianlin first walked there, she sensed it was holy ground.
That's not to say we don't use the structure for mundane things," he
added. "At the moment, it's packed full of the weapons and supplies
you sent for, and more will be coming with Tianlin. Before you leave,
we'll array everything for your inspection to be sure nothing is amiss.
"We also use the Great Hall for rituals and
celebrations, especially if the weather is unfriendly. In fact,
tomorrow…" the old chieftain quickly looked up at Shan Yu.
"Khagan," he said almost sheepishly, "Since your
arrival, I have made no mention of my eldest son's wedding. I am assuming
that the Avar messenger I sent to keep you abreast of our preparations has
already extended my invitation that you join us for this great feast."
"In his haste to rejoin his own camp, the Avar
seems to have forgotten that part of his message," Shan Yu said. "But I
have already told Qaidu that we will be honored to join your clans for
your family's important celebration."
Sukhe straightened and scowled off to the west.
"I'll flay the boy if I ever see him again! Avars! Can't trust them."
"I can be trusted," Lasuluun said, leaning forward
with a teasing spark in his eye.
Sukhe's jaw dropped slightly as he gave the famous
Master Tracker a stricken look. "Lasuluun Noyon," he said. "I did
not mean that as it sounded. I think perhaps I should keep my speech to
war and horses and leave the social niceties to my women!"
By the time the group had made their way back to
the village, the smells of early evening meals were rising from the
firepits at the gers. Almost as they arrived, they saw Ulan strolling the
path with his paramour. Both wore looks of relaxed bliss.
"A new record," remarked Lasuluun.
Shirchin had joined Gaitan and Batu, each of whom
had their huge arms draped around the comparatively tiny forms of their
admirers--one under each arm.
"Evening, Noyon," Shan Yu greeted
them with mock formality. "I hope your day of leisure has prepared
you for the real work tomorrow."
"By your side and at your command, Shan,"
Gaitain grinned up at him. "This place makes me feel like a teenager
again."
"Well, try to keep that attitude," said Lasuluun.
"We're expected at a wedding celebration tomorrow after the day's work
with the horses."
The pretty young girl under Batu’s left arm
leaned forward and exclaimed excitedly, "Yes! Kaaje and Qaidu are to
be married tomorrow!" She glanced up at Batu and smiled
meaningfully. "Kaaje is only Qaidu’ first wife."
Batu blanched and sputtered, "Yes. Well. You
have to start slowly, you know. One at a time." He shot Shan Yu and
Lasuluun a grimace over her head.
Shirchin, sitting with his back against the great
beech and polishing his blade, was studying his work closely. The corners
of his eyes crinkled. "Sometimes one is enough!"
Shan Yu and his company joined Sukhe, Baaja and
their sons shortly after sundown and shared the evening meal by their
fire. Sukhe seemed even more distracted than he had that afternoon.
"Tianlin will be here," Baaja soothed.
"Everything is prepared. Sometimes, you know, she does these things
for a reason."
"Yes. To drive me to distraction!" Tight-lipped,
Sukhe shook his head and took Baaja's hand. He looked around at his
family and guests. "I have directed my people to bed down early tonight.
That way, everyone will be rested for tomorrow's work with the horses and
for the celebration. But we will leave the torches burning tonight." His
voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, and he seemed to be trying to
convince himself of what he said. "I know Tianlin will be here in time
for this Samhain. Junden's spirit called to her. Tianlin will not fail
her."
Batu glanced uneasily over at his commander. The
big man was straightforward in his dealings, and he disliked such mystery
and secrecy. "Maybe all of us should bed down early," he
suggested, giving Gaitan a conspiratorial wink.
"Good idea, Batu," agreed Shan Yu. The
visitors rose, thanking their hosts, and made their way to their gers.
Shan Yu called his men close to him and spoke quietly as they walked.
"I don’t know what’s going on any
more than you do. But it’s clear that Sukhe is involved in some
spiritual matter that does not concern us. So I suggest that no matter
what you might hear, you just close your eyes and keep sleeping." He
gave Batu and Gaitan a dry look. "Or whatever."
A low chorus of "Yes, sir’s" met him
as they reached their gers. At the sound of approaching voices, the
muffled sound of giggling came from inside Batu’s and Gaitain’s
ger.
"Brothers," announced Ulan, "you
have the place to yourselves. I have made other arrangements for myself
this night." He saluted them all and disappeared into the
darkness.
Batu disappeared into the ger. Before following
his brother, Gaitan looked around and grinned at Shirchin, Lasuluun and
Shan Yu. "With all the hiking and running around you great warriors
did today, I guess you’ll be needing your sleep. See you in the
morning!"
"Well," said Las, watching the tent flap
swish down behind Gaitan’s back. "Seems they spent their day
more productively than we did."
Shirchin snorted good naturedly. "Maybe if
you ask Gaitan nicely, he’ll share."
Lasuluun made a face. "I’m not desperate
enough to want their leftovers. You’ll give me nightmares with that
talk."
"Come on," said Shan Yu, lifting the flap
of their own ger and motioning Shirchin and Las inside. "There's
still tomorrow night to make up for missed opportunities."
"Now that I think on it, I did have a pretty good
time at Shirchin’s wedding."
"I'm surprised you even remember, after all that
arkhii," laughed Shirchin. "Anyway, we'll have the last laugh
tomorrow when those two worn out pups get trampled for not paying
attention to what they're doing!"
"If I know Gaitan, he'd say it was a fair
trade," said Shan Yu.
Shan Yu lay staring into the darkness. He was not
sure whether it was vague worries about the upcoming herd drive or a day
of too little physical activity keeping him awake. The muffled sounds of
lively coupling in the neighboring ger did not make his insomnia any
easier to bear. With an annoyed sigh, he rolled over and pulled one of
the sheepskins over his ears, shutting out everything but the tedious
recycling of tomorrow’s concerns in his brain.
He must have fallen asleep, for when he opened his
eyes to the darkness, the night was very still. Yet something had
awakened him. A sound, lost to his half-dreaming memory. He threw off
his covers, crept to the door of the ger, pushed aside the flap and stood
in the doorway. The torches had gone out. The icy sparkle of countless
stars and a needle-thin sliver of light curving around the dark grey
circle of new moon gave the only light between the silent village and the
black sky. Needles of frost were growing from the ground. His breath
smoked faintly in the darkness.
And then, softly but unmistakably in the distance,
came the rhythmic sound of drums. The cadence set chills dancing through
him. The driving sound pulled at something deep inside him, rarely
touched. They were coming closer. Perhaps a dozen drums and various
other percussive instruments. Some had the hollow clack of long-dried
bones. Others the hissing rattle of rain in the trees. As the players
drew near, the rhythms of each instrument wove together and spread apart
like a flight of wild birds.
Up the hill, the torches outside Sukhe’s ger
flickered one by one and flared to life. The old man was standing in the
doorway, waiting, a staff in his hand. Along the path to the
chieftain’s ger, more torches tentatively sparked, then licked high,
sending translucent circles of gold to banish the dark.
The drums were at the outskirts of the village.
Their thrumming snaked along the paths, echoed from wall to wall of the
canyon and through the clustered gers. Dark forms appeared, moving
sinuously along the paths. He could see no faces; each was completely
veiled in black. Behind the black-veiled forms came wildly outfitted
dancers, their shoulders draped with dried grass and bells that hissed and
jingled in time with the drummers' cadence. Their masks, fiercely painted
with great slashes of white, gold and orange, were skulls and demon heads,
floating with disembodied grace between the torches and up to the waiting
chieftain.
Shan Yu drew back into the shadows of his ger, not
wishing to intrude, but unwilling to stop watching. Lasuluun and Shirchin
were suddenly behind him.
"I thought you said..."
Shan Yu raised a hand to silence Lasuluun, but was
unable to look away from the scene. There were perhaps forty participants
in the bizarre parade. They continued to weave between the torches and
gers after the first of them had reached Sukhe’s door. A circle of
torches was moving steadily through the writhing crowd. At its center was
a form completely robed and hooded in black. The figure glided
purposefully towards Sukhe and stopped before him. With a long,
shuddering rattle and hiss, the drums fell silent. A wave of woodsmoke
incense rolled down from the hillside. Shan Yu recognized the aromas of
juniper and cedar, but other essences were unfamiliar. They seemed to
creep inside his head and swirl there, making all he saw seem more of a
dream than a dance of flesh and bone.
Sukhe dropped to one knee and the black-clad leader
placed darkly wrapped hands on his skull. Low chanting floated through
the sudden silence. The voice was deep and soft. Shan Yu could barely
make out the foreign, unfamiliar words. The torch bearers around the
chieftain and the black-robed form closed in, raising Sukhe to his feet
and spiriting him away into the darkness. The drum cadence began again,
carrying the strangely solemn group into the forest. The wild rhythm
knocked back and forth among the trees as shadows danced on the dark
canyon walls in the golden torchlight. When they reached a spot close to
where Shan Yu and Lasuluun had ended their race that morning, the
reflections halted and quivered against the darkness. Again, silence.
Lasuluun gave a low whistle, but none of them spoke
through the thick magic hung in the air. Slowly, Shan Yu pulled the drape
back over the door, retreated to his pile of furs and sat there,
straight-backed and cross-legged. He heard Lasuluun and Shirchin settle
into their own furs.
He denied his impulse to leave the confines of the
tent and seek the source of the magic. Something very personal was
happening between Sukhe, his priestess and his people. He wondered if it
might even be dangerous for him to intrude. The frosty silence seemed
even more alive than the voices of the drums. It hung in the chill air
like a stone about to drop.
And then, a new sound.
Every hair on his body rose at the song taking wing
through the stillness. He had heard women sing before. He knew the
formal chants and songs of roving musician-bards who provided music for
rituals and ceremonies. He had heard the cheery songs of nomadic
minstrels. He had known the singing of village women intoning their
working songs together and mothers singing their children to sleep.
But he had never heard a voice like this one.
The sound was high and pure, as crystalline as the
icy stars above him and as warm as the furs rising around his hips. He
left his resting place again, found himself at the door of the ger. He
stared up the canyon from where the song came. Deep inside him, something
stirred. He had heard that voice before. Had known it intimately,
perhaps in some lifetime past. His heart beat faster. Which of the
village girls possessed this voice?
The song trembled through the trees, and nothing
else existed. It was wordless at first, soaring in a minor key. And then
came words--foreign, rarified. The image of Sukhe’s blue tattoos, a
network of squared knots and dragon heads, flashed through his mind. Why
did he know that voice? What ancient spirits were being conjured by the
power of that song? What strange magic had brought him here?
He rose and stood silently before the ger, his
quickened breath leaving him in great clouds of steam. He lifted his
palms and arms slightly and tilted his head back, assuming the position of
a shaman receiving the powers offered by the earth and air around him. It
was all he could do to remain there and not seek out the conduit of those
powers, the lone voice. He closed his eyes and let the sound shiver
around him, felt the spirits fly through him. He suddenly felt as much a
part of the ritual hidden in the canyon as if he had been standing there,
side by side with Sukhe.
As he stood silently in the icy night, a strange
warmth crept about him, sealing him away from the cold. His head seemed
to float above his shoulders, and faint shapes began to play against his
closed eyelids, taking form from the shimmering rush of blood in his
sight. A face. Barely there, it floated, pale, blurred. A woman’s
face. Dark, with bright, dark eyes and high, sharp cheekbones in her
broad, handsome face. And then it was gone.
A voice whispered against his temple. He could not
make out the words. It came again, louder.
"Chinua," the whisper was the
rustling of dry leaves. "Sayan Chinua."
His breath caught in his chest and he swayed
slightly. Sage wolf. Where had he heard the words before, spoken in such
a hissing whisper? But before he could recall, a great wave of rushing
sound enveloped him, tearing away the words and the memory of them. He
was alone in darkness once more. Hoofbeats. Hundreds of them against
snow-packed earth. A flash of red cloth, a chamois skirt swirling against
the snow. Blood. A raging scream cut short by a wet blow. Blood across
his eyes. Darkness wrapped him like a bearskin. He could not breathe.
The darkness rolled back to blinding light so
strong that he could see nothing. He felt, rather than heard the deep
rumble as if it came from inside his head. The brilliant light about him
flickered, sparkled, became a great cloud of spraying snow racing down
upon him. A crushing avalanche of snow. Pinpricks of icy crystals burned
and melted against his skin. His body jerked as if struck from behind.
He was being pressed down, smothered in a blue-grey shroud. Blinded.
Breathless. Trapped. Darkness enveloped him, and the vision faded.
When he opened his eyes, the dark moon had strayed
to the west, and sat poised on the jagged horizon. It had been several
hours, but he was not tired. Had slept, standing in his place? Yet
through his felt clothes, he felt only the slightest chill. His heart was
pounding.
Movement at the edge of the trees caught his eye.
It was the participants in the rite, returning home. They were Urga
villagers again, talking amongst themselves with relaxed voices. Many had
removed their masks, and were carrying them under their arms as they
ambled to their gers. Breathing deeply, Shan Yu squinted through the
darkness. Some of the unmasked dancers looked unnaturally pale. But
before he could look more closely, they disappeared into gers and down the
paths of the village.
Shan Yu retreated into the shadows of the doorway
and dropped to one knee, suddenly spent. In the distance, a single torch
lit the way for Sukhe. Beside him walked the priestess, her hood thrown
back over her shoulders to reveal, not the wizened, grey-headed shaman he
had imagined, but a relatively young woman. Her face and hair seemed to
be somewhat lighter in color than those of the village women, but it was
too dark and she was too far away for him to make out more than that.
Once again, he heard her deep voice speak in quiet tones to Sukhe. Then
the old chieftain locked her forearms in traditional embrace, disengaged
himself and disappeared into his ger. The priestess turned away and
walked alone over the top of the slope and out of his sight. He would
have to wait until morning to learn more about Tianlin. He hoped that she
or Sukhe might tell him whose high, shimmering voice had trapped him and
held him while the strange visions invaded him.
This time when he returned to his furs, he had no
trouble falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
