Read Online Horselords by David Cook, Larry Elmore - Free Book Online Page B

While the khans had watched the sky fearfully, the khahan had been edgy, waiting for the rain to come. In the early evening, the storm broke. Abruptly, Yamun dismissed the khans and the servants, sending them out into the downpour. Since then, Yamun had been sitting, drinking wine and occasionally issuing orders, but his tension had not subsided. By this hour, the khahan moved wearily and his temper was short.
    Yamun swallowed a gulp of wine from a chased silver cup. “Write out this order, scribe,” he said brusquely.
    Koja neatly set aside the notes he had been working on and laid out a fresh sheet of paper. His vision was blurred by the long hours he worked. His tired fingers dropped the writing brush, splattering the drops of black ink over the clean white page.
    “You’ll have to be stronger than that, scribe,” Yamun growled, irritated with the delay. “Make yourself tougher. You’ll have days and nights with no sleep when we begin to march.”
    “March, Great Khan?” In two weeks of taking down proclamations, Koja had yet to hear any mention of the armies of the khahan going on campaign.
    “Yes, march. You think I intend to sit here forever, waiting on the pleasure of others—like your Prince Ogandi? In time, I must march,” the stocky man snapped back. “Soon the pastures here will be gone, and then we must move.”
    “Great Khahan,” Koja pleaded as he rearranged the papers, “would it not be easier for you to find another scribe? Surely one of your people, somebody stronger, could do the job.”
    “What’s this? You don’t like being my scribe?” The khahan glowered over his cup at Koja, his foul mood getting worse.
    “No, it’s not that,” Koja stuttered. “It’s … I am not brave. I am not a soldier,” he blurted out. Terrified, he turned his attention to the sheets in front of him, mumbling, “Besides, I never thought there was so much work. I mean—”
    “You thought we were ignorant and didn’t know how to keep records,” Yamun interrupted in cold tones. Koja despaired. All his attempts to explain his weaknesses were only making things worse.
    Yamun slid forward out of his seat, bringing himself close to Koja. “I can’t write and I can’t read, so you think I’m a fool. I know the value of these.” He grabbed up a handful of Koja’s papers from the little writing desk. “Great kings and princes all rule by these slips of paper. I’ve seen the papers sent out by the emperor of Shou Lung. I, too, am an emperor. I’m not some little prince who goes from tent to tent, talking to all his followers. I am the khahan of all the Tuigan and I will be more.”
    Koja looked in silence at the khahan, startled by the outburst.
    Still, the skepticism must have shown on the priest’s face. Yamun heaved to his feet, splashing wine over the carpets. “You doubt me? Teylas has promised it to me! Listen to him out there,” he shouted, pausing long enough for Koja to hear a particularly loud thunderclap. “That’s his voice. Those are his words. Most people live in fear of him. They pray and scream, afraid he’ll call them to the test. But I’m not afraid. He’s tested me and I still live.” Wobbling slightly from the drink, Yamun walked toward the door. “He’s calling to me now. Today.”
    Koja stayed at his seat, trying to make sense of Yamun’s ranting. The nightguard, however, dashed over to the doorway and flung himself down on the carpet. “Great Prince,” he entreated, “do not go outside! I beg it of you. There has never been a storm like this. It is an evil omen. Teylas has released his spirits upon us. If you go out they will try to snatch you away. Teylas is angry!”
    “See,” Yamun shouted across the yurt at Koja. “They all fear the storms, the might of Teylas. These are my soldiers-children! Move, guardsman,” he ordered, turning his attention back to the cowering man. “I don’t fear the wrath of Teylas. After all, I am the khahan. My ancestor was born the