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Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
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farther than any of the rest of us, and knows the cities to the east and south. He takes with him Chung La and his sister Mei Hsu-No. The three will travel by water most of the way. Rivers and canals will carry them to the sea, and it has been arranged that they will go by sea around the end of Tien-Du. Mei Sa-Fong has been instructed that if he does not find Christians there, he is to continue westward. We have provided him with routes to Mi-Sz’i-Rh and Ki-Sz’i-Da-Ni, where Shih Ghieh-Man tells us that the Church rules everywhere since the time of an Emperor for whom the city is named. I have always believed that such a place was more legend than fact, but he assures me that the rumor, if anything, underestimates the city. A few of the elders have said that we are not wise to put our faith in so few of our number, but no one else in the congregation is as competent. Should this party visit you, I ask that you will receive them in the name of the master and give unstintingly of your aid. What they may discover will be of use to you as well as to us.
Mei Sa-Fong and Mei Hsu-No spoke at length with this Shih Ghieh-Man and said that he was most helpful to them, though he has not been in Mi-Sz’i-Rh or Ki-Sz’i-Da-Ni for a very long time. He said that since the Muz-Lum followers have taken much territory, it is not as easy for Christians to move through their countries as it once was. Mei Sa-Fong informs me that if he can face Mongols, he can deal with any Muz-Lum he encounters.
My congregation and I pray that our Christian brothers and all our countrymen come safely through the ordeal that is ahead. Even as Our Lord was tested, so are we, and we must show ourselves worthy of His struggle. We have been taught that those who rule the earth are the self-disciplined, which we must keep in mind through the coming years.
With my blessing to you and your congregation, this by my own hand.
Nai Yung-Ya
Pope of the Nestorian congregation of Lan-Chow
4
Mao-T’ou stronghold sat at the end of a ridge of hills above a winding road between two narrow valleys, very much like the spearhead for which it was named. The keep itself was of thick, ancient timbers but the outer fortifications were of split logs standing in foundations of mortared stone.
“As you see,” T’en Chih-Yü was explaining to Saint-Germain as they rode up the approach through a powder of light snow, “the north flank is our strongest, but if assault came down the crest of the hill, we would not have a chance against any large force. Thirty, forty men we could withstand, but no more than that.”
Saint-Germain nodded grimly, holding his gray to the pace of the Warlord’s feisty sorrel. “You will need to build up most of the walls. An outer retaining wall might be helpful.” The approach was steeper here, and a few pines grew in this fold of the hill, though higher up they had been cleared off, both to provide lumber for the stronghold and to provide attackers little opportunity for concealment.
Chih-Yü’s scale armor jingled as she urged her horse up the incline. It was necessary here to ride single file, and as she took the lead, she called back over her shoulder, “We’re short of labor, so it might be difficult to undertake more building. I was hoping there was a way to strengthen the walls as they stand.”
“There is,” Saint-Germain assured her, “and it is better than nothing. Do you have manpower enough to dig a ditch—a deep one—around the stronghold?”
“A ditch?” Her voice rose in surprise.
“Mongols fight on horseback. A ditch would deter them for a while. It would certainly slow them down. You’d have to contend with the archers, but you have your own bowmen.” His horse, unfamiliar with the ground, stumbled, and Saint-Germain strove to bring the gray’s head up. The hooves scrambled on the frost-hard earth, and though he did not fall, the gray was favoring his off-front hoof as he resumed the upward climb.
“What
Mei Sa-Fong and Mei Hsu-No spoke at length with this Shih Ghieh-Man and said that he was most helpful to them, though he has not been in Mi-Sz’i-Rh or Ki-Sz’i-Da-Ni for a very long time. He said that since the Muz-Lum followers have taken much territory, it is not as easy for Christians to move through their countries as it once was. Mei Sa-Fong informs me that if he can face Mongols, he can deal with any Muz-Lum he encounters.
My congregation and I pray that our Christian brothers and all our countrymen come safely through the ordeal that is ahead. Even as Our Lord was tested, so are we, and we must show ourselves worthy of His struggle. We have been taught that those who rule the earth are the self-disciplined, which we must keep in mind through the coming years.
With my blessing to you and your congregation, this by my own hand.
Nai Yung-Ya
Pope of the Nestorian congregation of Lan-Chow
4
Mao-T’ou stronghold sat at the end of a ridge of hills above a winding road between two narrow valleys, very much like the spearhead for which it was named. The keep itself was of thick, ancient timbers but the outer fortifications were of split logs standing in foundations of mortared stone.
“As you see,” T’en Chih-Yü was explaining to Saint-Germain as they rode up the approach through a powder of light snow, “the north flank is our strongest, but if assault came down the crest of the hill, we would not have a chance against any large force. Thirty, forty men we could withstand, but no more than that.”
Saint-Germain nodded grimly, holding his gray to the pace of the Warlord’s feisty sorrel. “You will need to build up most of the walls. An outer retaining wall might be helpful.” The approach was steeper here, and a few pines grew in this fold of the hill, though higher up they had been cleared off, both to provide lumber for the stronghold and to provide attackers little opportunity for concealment.
Chih-Yü’s scale armor jingled as she urged her horse up the incline. It was necessary here to ride single file, and as she took the lead, she called back over her shoulder, “We’re short of labor, so it might be difficult to undertake more building. I was hoping there was a way to strengthen the walls as they stand.”
“There is,” Saint-Germain assured her, “and it is better than nothing. Do you have manpower enough to dig a ditch—a deep one—around the stronghold?”
“A ditch?” Her voice rose in surprise.
“Mongols fight on horseback. A ditch would deter them for a while. It would certainly slow them down. You’d have to contend with the archers, but you have your own bowmen.” His horse, unfamiliar with the ground, stumbled, and Saint-Germain strove to bring the gray’s head up. The hooves scrambled on the frost-hard earth, and though he did not fall, the gray was favoring his off-front hoof as he resumed the upward climb.
“What
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