Casca 34: Devil's Horseman (17 page)

“Then I think you deserve a few more coins. You’d best make your way out of here and travel to Kiev or somewhere further west. I think those Tatars will be coming this way, don’t you?”

“Leave my home city? I have a home here and I know of nowhere else. No, I was born here and I’ll die here. I would be like those poor souls out there,” she jerked a thumb at the window, “with no home and bastards to take advantage of them.”

Casca knew what she meant. He feared for her; like all good whores, she had a heart of gold and he hated the thought of her being at the mercy of the Mongols. Best he didn’t think too deeply on it. He had to do a couple of things that day. He leaned back comfortably against the feather pillows. He wondered where she’d gotten them. “Is there a decent jeweler’s around here?”

“Why yes, there’s Nikolas just a couple of streets away.
He’s just about the best, but not cheap! He paid me well, too,” she chuckled.

Casca smirked. “I bet! You’re one hell of a woman.” Maria, to Casca’s
delight, blushed, pleased. “But I have to see him about an item of jewelry as a matter of urgency. Will have to go soon. Then I must go see the local guard. I’m disgusted at the general lawlessness of the city.”

“You won’t change that,” Maria said. “The rulers here are stupid and selfish.”

“Maybe so, but I must try.”

After breakfast Casca went to Nikolas the Jeweler, and asked him about a specific job. He hummed and hawed, but eventually, after Casca produced the right number of coins, agreed to do so. It would take a week. Casca nodded and left. He gave Maria the good news that she would have him as a paying guest for a week,
then he walked the streets and sought out the city guard, and found it in the citadel, close to the river.

The commander was a busy man, but he agreed to see the finely-dressed visitor. He complained that there were not enough hours in the day to attend the number of problems, he, a loyal servant of the Prince, had to contend with. He was overwhelmed with the number of refugees and there simply weren’t enough places to house them all. Many were turning to crime and his men were just not able to cope. Casca sympathized and offered a few words of advice. “Go see the Prince; it’s his city and he ought to take more interest in it.”

“Pah!” the commander looked disgusted. “Everyone knows he’s too busy with taxing us all to worry about our woes. He’s pouring money into mercenary guards and enlarging his retinue. He’s too frightened of these Tatars to worry about us. So the city goes to hell and he protects himself.”

“If the Tatars come this way even an enlarged retinue won’t help him. Have not the refugees told you of what’s going on out there? I would offer my services myself but I’d be putting a noose round my neck. I’m off west when my time here is done. Take my advice; don’t stay here. Death is coming your way.”

The commander nodded heavily. “I know that, but I have my duty, and I must stay for the sake of my people and my men.”

“Take care in that case. I’ll take my leave. I’ve said what I came here to say.” He’d found out enough to know the city was not capable of resisting any attack; it was divided and run by someone who didn’t give a damn about the population.

A week later, and lighter by a few coins but heavier with other items, he left, pleased that his reconnaissance had been a success. He regretted that Maria would be caught up in the coming storm, but he’d done his best to warn her. There was nothing else he could really do.

It was time he rejoined the Mongol army and put into place his sneaky plan.

Winter had come once more and the snows fell, blanketing the grasslands. But the army was well fed and provisioned, and the number of prisoners taken in the raids had been more than any of them had imagined. Subedei had indeed contacted the slavers from Egypt and had sold many at a huge profit. The Egyptians told him these people, the Alans, Circassians and Kipchaks, would be trained as slave soldiers, or as they would call them, Mamluks.

One result of the raids was that most of the surviving Kipchaks had fled the steppes and gone to the Carpathian Mountains, at the far end of the steppes, and crossed into Hungary. Batu and Subedei weren’t pleased about that; they saw the Kipchaks as a subject people and talk was of them sending an ambassador to the Hungarian king, Bela, and demand them back.

Casca whistled; that would be like a red rag to a bull. Subedei and Batu were spoiling for a fight alright.

The reinforcements from Mongolia were trickling into camp daily along with more supplies and equipment, and preparations went on to resume the campaign. It was fairly clear the targets were Periaslavl and its sister state just to the north, Chernigov. The intelligence Casca had brought back had been used by Subedei in his planning. That, together with the information he’d got from his other spies, formed the basis of his strategy. He didn’t leave anything to chance.

Casca was pleased to see Kaidur back to normal upon his return. He was ready to take his place and escorted his master round the camp as equipment was needed for the guard. Casca had befriended the Swede, Lars, and the Austrian, Karl, on the route back to the camp. Both had offered to serve under him and Casca readily accepted. The two former crusaders declined.

Some of the old armor and weaponry was no longer acceptable and had been thrown away, and Casca had to re-equip his men. Therefore Kaidur and two other guards went with The Old Young One on his errands, making sure nobody took an undue interest in him. Casca was pleased to hear of the resumption of the campaign; after his expenses in Periaslavl and the purchase of the armor, and paying for his men, his funds were beginning to run low. More plunder and loot would be welcome.

That evening there was a banquet held by Batu, to welcome the continuation of the attack. It was a lavish affair and all the princes sat at the long table, served by female slaves. Each diner had their personal guard stood behind them, all armed with a pole weapon of some kind, many decorated with skulls of oxen or gory trophies of one sort or another. Kaidur was content to stand there with his sword at his side. A sword was faster and if you got inside the reach of the pole weapon, much more deadly.

Casca for once refrained from wearing his high-necked shirt. Instead he wore a warmer jacket of felt lined with fleece, and he’d recently got round to wearing one of the sable hats he’d seen the others wearing. It was wonderfully warm and cozy, and could be crushed up to put in a pocket if the need arose. The yurt was warm, what with the fires and the number of people sat close together, and Casca unbuttoned the jacket to cool down.

Subedei, sat alongside, spoke to him about the coming campaign, then stopped suddenly and stared at his open necked top. Usually Casca wore the high necked shirt to hide the necklace, but this
evening he wasn’t wearing the shirt, and neither, so Subedei could see, was he wearing the necklace! He stared for a moment, then looked away. If he could notice that, then so could the other princes, including the one who knew he had it on him. Was he asking for trouble?

Casca seemed oblivious to the fact he was being careless. He took off his hat and shook his hair loose. With the coming of winter he’d let his hair grow longer, and he’d allowed a beard to grow. Better to protect his face and neck in the cold. Some of the Mongols cut their hair in odd patterns, leaving a narrow band around the sides and back of their heads yet shaving the top and front, or letting a narrow fringe run along the brow. There were as much a variety of facial hair on show, and any prince could be identified at a distance just by their mustache, beard, goatee or any or none of those combinations.

It came to the time of the toast to success. The slaves filled everyone’s goblet, and Batu stood, followed by the others. “Let us drink to success in the coming campaign. Let us drink to many victories and plunder, and the extending of the Empire of the Great Khan, Ogedei!”

Batu took a deep draught. Everyone stopped, mouths open in shock, even Batu’s brothers. Everyone, even Casca, knew that etiquette demanded that the senior prince amongst them drank first. Batu certainly wasn’t the most senior – his own brother Orda outranked him, and because of the thorny issue with being of an illegitimate branch of the family, the other princes, or at least Mongke and Kuyuk, had seniority. Batu was higher in rank only within the army on campaign.

Batu paused and lowered his goblet. He looked at the expressions on everyone’s face and suddenly colored. He realized the blunder he’d made. “Ah… I apologize…”

He was allowed to get no further. Kuyuk, incandescent, threw his goblet across the tent where it smashed against a wooden chest into fragments.
“You disrespectful cur, Batu! I may take the insults hurled at me each and every day by this foreigner being here,” and he gestured towards Casca, “but I will not stand for you dishonoring my seniority over you! You forget that I have a strong claim to the succession? You had better remember to treat me with courtesy, for one day, and not too far away, I may well be your master! If you wish to hold onto what lands you are receiving, which may I remind you is thanks to the blood of my men as well as yours, then you will treat me with the respect my position demands!”

“Kuyuk, I – I”

“Silence, you fussy old woman! The damage has been done, in front of so many people! You will regret this, you can count on it. I no longer wish to serve in your army. I am going to take my men back to Karakorum and speak to my father about your conduct.”

“Kuyuk Khan, perhaps now is the time for cool heads and not angry words,” Subedei stood, concern on his face.

“Subedei, you may be one of the best generals ever to have served our family, but even you cannot heal what this blundering fool has done. I will take my leave of you now!” and with that he stamped out of the yurt. Buri stood up and thumped the table, face red with anger and wine. “I, too, do not wish to remain here, fighting alongside unworthy people such as an old woman and a foreign spy!” He ran out after Kuyuk, leaving the remaining princes and Subedei and Casca lost for words.

“I – I can only apologize…” Batu’s voice trailed off and he slumped, ashen faced, into his seat.

Nobody commented. Subedei turned to Kadan, Kuyuk’s brother. “Will you be leaving us, too?”

Kadan shook his head. “The insult is nothing to me, but my brother is ambitious and believes etiquette should be adhered to strictly. There will be no point arguing with him. He’ll need time to cool down. My father won’t be pleased, though.”

“No he won’t,” Subedei agreed, and lapsed into a sullen silence, brooding into his plate of food.

“Well,” Casca sighed, “that’s the campaign ended, isn’t it?” Heads turned in his direction. Casca shrugged. “If we couldn’t carry on before the reinforcements arrived, we can’t now. Kuyuk and Buri command as many men as we’ve received in replacements this winter. We’re back to where we were three months ago.

Subedei threw down his dining napkin – he always had it draped over his large stomach, and stormed out. Casca looked once at Batu who was holding his head in anguish, then got up and followed the army commander out into the chill air, Kaidur trotting after him.

“Subedei, stop!”
Casca called out to him.

“Yes, Old Young One? Not a good evening. I am not inclined to discuss anything with you at this time.”

Casca frowned. There was an edge to his voice. “Meaning?”

Subedei paused,
then set is mouth firm and strode up to Casca. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it wide apart at the neck. He pointed to Casca’s bare neck. “This!”

Casca looked and saw his bare neck. “Ah, yes. That. I can explain.”

“No explanation necessary! It seems not only Batu makes errors of judgment. I hope in your case you can correct what has been done, unlike Batu! Good night.”

Casca was left standing with Kaidur. They slowly made their way back to Casca’s yurt and asked the guards if anything had happened. The guards said that the only thing of note had been during the last half hour or so. Plenty of people had passed by and there’d been an altercation over by Kaidur’s tent which had threatened to knock it over. A camel had broken loose and had to be restrained. Kaidur and Casca exchanged looks. “Come with me, Kaidur.” The two went round the rear of Casca’s yurt and there it
was, a slit flap. It was two feet high. “Someone’s been busy, haven’t they?”

They returned to the front and made their way in. There wasn’t much disturbed, as that would have been noisy and there had been guards outside. What had been was the trunk of clothes Casca had. The lid was open and the contents strewn about the carpets. He went over to it and searched through the fabric. Finally he stood up and sighed. He looked into the empty trunk, a curious feeling in his stomach.

“What is it, Old Young One?”

“I left the necklace in here. It’s gone.”

Subedei, predictably, was furious. Coming on top of the bust up at the banquet and the desertion of one fifth of his army, it was the last thing he needed. He sat still, his pudgy face tensing and trembling. “I shall not speak to you now of this,” he finally said, his voice tight and barely under control. “Come to me tomorrow after breakfast. You may go.”

Casca returned to his yurt and threw himself onto his fur bed. Kaidur stood awkwardly by the cloth screen that marked off the sleeping area from the rest of the yurt. “Is there anything you require of me before I retire to my yurt?” he asked.

“No, my friend, you may go. Sleep well.”

“Ha! I shall worry too much to do that.”

“It’s not worth worrying about, Kaidur. Believe me.”

The Mongol shook his head. “I wish I had that attitude, but I fear I’m too much of a Mongol not to. Good night.”

Casca slapped his furs. Even Kaidur was pissed at him. Ah well. He sat up and called Tatiana to join him. She pushed past the screen and stood dutifully in front of him, dressed in an ankle-length kaftan of felt and sable fur. It looked perfect on her. “Are you wearing any clothes underneath that, little one?”

“No, Casca.”

Casca smiled and stood up, reaching for her buttons. He slowly undid them. “You are as naughty and devious as me, you know, Tatiana.”

The Russian smiled. Casca thought she really was a very pretty young thing. He finally undid the last button and slipped her kaftan off, revealing her pale white nakedness. He gloried in looking over her. “By the gods you certainly excite a man. But there’s one more thing I have to do before I let you in my bed.”

“Please hurry,
it’s cold standing like this!”

“As you say, it’s cold.” He reached over her neck and undid the golden necklace she was wearing. The dragon nestled comfortably between her breasts. “This suits you, you know.” Casca lifted the necklace and Stone and examined it. “Get into bed, my little conspirator.”

Tatiana giggled and slipped under the furs, sighing in relief. Casca placed the necklace back round his neck and joined her in bed. “Well, it seems to have worked. Everyone’s swallowed the deception. That copy the jeweler in Periaslavl made for me was good enough to fool the thief. It’ll be a shock to whoever took it when they find it to be a fake.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“I expect someone will go absolutely berserk. It won’t be for a while yet, I think. Someone will now try to take power in a coup, thinking they have the coronation Stone. It’ll be a slap and a loss of face when they find it’s a fake.”

“Won’t they be angry at you?”

“Oh yes. I think they’ll come for me with blood in their eye.”

“So who is it?”

Casca grinned and wagged his finger. “I’m not telling.”

Tatiana pouted. “Why won’t you tell me? I’m grown up.”

Casca eyed her body. “Mmm, you sure are.”

“Oh, don’t you think of anything else?”

“Not when I’m in bed with you.” He kissed her and began feeling her smooth skin. She gasped, then tried again to get him to speak. “I’m as much involved as you are…”

“Mmm, I’m glad you are; I’m getting fairly involved now; aren’t you?”

Tatiana shuddered and closed her eyes. She forgot to try to get him to talk; it was plain he wasn’t going to, so she sank into the exquisite pleasures he was giving her, surrendering once again to his touch.

The next morning Casca presented himself to Subedei, once again wearing the high-necked shirt. The aged commander took one long look at him,
then waved dismissively at the shirt. “There’s no further need for you to wear that, is there?”

Casca grinned and looked at the guards to either side of him. Subedei went pale,
then leaned forward. “Everyone except the Old Young One is to leave, now!” The bark he emitted on the last word send all scurrying out of the yurt.

Subedei leaned back and put a finger to his chin. “Show me.”

Casca unfastened the top few buttons and popped the Stone out, showed it briefly, then replaced it and redid his shirt up. Subedei remained sat, looking at Casca for a long time before speaking. “You have your reasons, Old Young One.”

It was both a statement and a question. Casca nodded. “Look, you put me up as prime target for whoever wants this and I’ve had two attempts on my life already. As both of us know it could have been any one of ten, and I’m including Batu. So I had to start working out who it was, and narrowing down the candidates.

“It was a risk, but one I thought was worth it. I had a fake made in Periaslavl and left it in my yurt for whoever it was to take it. They wouldn’t break in unless they knew I wasn’t wearing it, so at last night’s banquet I made it obvious I didn’t have it on. Nine of them would not notice anything, but the tenth would and probably make the attempt there and then. Opportunity.”

Subedei played with the arms of his chair. “And did you find out who it was?”

“Not really. One of the princes must have noticed, and passed a message to a guard who must have taken it outside. The next thing my yurt gets raided and the fake gets stolen.”

“Who was it?” Subedei snapped.

“I wish I knew for certain, but wouldn’t you return to Karakorum once you had it, rather than remain here with the army risking it being found or losing it in battle and so on?”

“You mean Kuyuk or Buri? They should be stopped and searched before they go too far!”

“Not so hasty, old friend.” Casca was thinking hard. “They’ve gone back to Karakorum. They won’t get there for weeks. I’m willing to bet either Buri took it to present Kuyuk with it as a gift, a sign of loyalty, in return for some high position once Kuyuk is crowned, or Kuyuk did it himself to seize power sooner rather than wait for his father to die.”

“But you said it’s a fake.”

“It is. Chaghadai will know it is, but Buri’s a kid; he won’t know the difference. Kuyuk might know it’s a fake, but it was taken at night and I bet it’s hidden away so nobody sees it, and so he won’t realize it’s not the real thing until he picks it up. It certainly isn’t gold! Is Batu going to write to Ogedei about what happened at the banquet?”

“Yes. Kuyuk’s conduct was wrong. He should have accepted the apology. He has also endangered the chances of this invasion continuing. That won’t go down well with the Khan.”

Casca shrugged. “Then write to Chaghadai. Warn him there’s a fake Stone and it might be used to foment a revolt.”

Subedei shook his head slowly. “That might not be wise. It may or may not be them. To accuse them of something that cannot be proved would be dangerous for me and my family. I shall send a message to Chaghadai but to tell him of a fake Stone that was stolen and to warn Kuyuk to watch out for anyone trying to fool him with it. I shall of course caution him not to say where he got his information.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Casca admitted, “but I’m willing to bet once this is known to be a fake whoever it is will come for me big time. The loss of face will be too much. It was all I could think of, throwing them off my back. Things were getting a bit uncomfortable for me, and all I could think of was how I could get out of it fast. And I’m always mindful of Sun Tzu; ‘all war is deception’.”

“Indeed it is. I bow to the master,” Subedei bowed and then laughed. “It is a weight off my mind. Come, we must see Batu; he is depressed. We must cheer him up.”

The two left for Batu’s quarters, determined to lift his depression. After a while he did bring himself out of his black mood, and composed a long letter to Ogedei Khan complaining at the manner of both Kuyuk and Buri. Then Subedei composed a letter of his own and entrusted both to a messenger. The messenger would use the relay posts that had been set up throughout the Empire in Genghis’ day, so that they could ride hundreds of miles in a couple of days. Messengers either tied bells to their clothes or to the horse’s harness, so that they could be heard approaching, and a replacement horse readied by the time the messenger arrived. That way hardly any time was lost. All that had to be done was to change horses and the message continued.

Over vast distances messages were sent in incredibly short time. Subedei was confident that their letters would be in the hands of Chaghadai and Ogedei within two or three weeks at the most.

“What about Kuyuk and Buri’s men? They’ll be traveling over the same route, won’t they?” Casca asked, concerned.

“Not so. I instructed the messenger to travel further to the north to start with. Our campaigns have removed any hostile tribesmen in the region, and he will ride in safety. Once past Kuyuk’s force he will ride for the first messenger post near the Caspian Sea. From then on it will be fast.”

All they could do after that was wait.

* * *

The winter passed and gave way to spring and the Mongols combated boredom by raiding far and wide, but they avoided the Russian cities. Some of the cities even began to think all was over; they would be spared the wrath of Satan. Kaidur and Ashira duly got married when the snows vanished, and that provoked a great deal of feasting and drunkenness. Mongols did seem to be prone to drinking too much.

Subedei advised Casca that Chaghadai had received his letter and has passed word round that a fake Stone had been seen. Kuyuk and Buri were soon told of this when they arrived back in the
capital, and what they said or how they reacted wasn’t told, but no revolt took place.

Casca found that nobody took any interest in him or his possessions in an unpleasant way. It did seem that either Kuyuk or Buri were behind the sinister moves previously. Casca also spoke to Batu about his complaint to Ogedei, and he told Casca that Ogedei had torn a strip off his son and told him to grow up and get back to the army and sort out whatever was between him and Batu and not come sniveling to Daddy. Batu had enjoyed that, but wasn’t looking forward to Kuyuk returning with Buri. Ogedei had put the responsibility in patching up the differences right back in Batu’s lap.

Casca wasn’t thrilled either, but at least they would finally get back to getting on with things. Casca desperately wanted to get to Europe. He thought the Mongols had one good shot at it, but with the huge distances involved and the fact their unity was beginning to fracture, it was now or never. He doubted they could take Europe. There was simply too much to fight and the terrain was against them.

Kuyuk and Buri returned as the autumn was giving way to winter, and nobody said anything that could have been taken the wrong way. It seemed the matter was forgotten.