The Tiger-Headed Horseman (13 page)

Tengis could hear the door being unlocked from within. It
opened. A tall dark-haired man with an enormously wide and bushy moustache answered the door. It was Odval's father. Odval's father liked Tengis. If he could ever have allowed himself to entertain the notion of his daughter being married, it would have been to Tengis. He respected Tengis's intellect and self-belief. Odval's father was also a man of politics. With Tengis's newly acquired political capital he was more than welcomed into his home.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Enkh,’ said Tengis.

‘And a good afternoon to you, young Master Khaan,’ said Mr Enkh. ‘We have been a busy chap, haven't we? I am most impressed by your words on reform. Although a devout Khadist, I recognise when change is required and you seem to be a man who has the ideas, belief, direction and energy to enable such a change. And what is that marvellous yellowybrowny-orange shining material everybody keeps talking about? Not that I'm interested in it. Your words are clearly far more important. Do you have any of it with you? Can I see it? Where did you get it? Is there more? Can I have some?’

‘What are you doing here?’ said Odval briskly. Despite the harshness of her tone, Tengis was glad to see her and equally pleased to avoid Mr Enkh's oddly insistent line of questioning. He had always thought of Mr Enkh as a principled man; this metal he had mined seemed to have a strange effect on even the soundest of minds.

‘I came to see you,’ said Tengis. ‘I wanted to know if you could forgive my leaving you the way I did.’

‘Is that meant to be an apology?’ asked Odval.

Her father knew it was safer to retreat to the safety of his library than come between his irate daughter and her prey.

‘If it is then you can . . .’

‘I am not here to fight,’ said Tengis. ‘I am also not here to apologise for anything I said about my beliefs but I am sorry
about the way I spoke to you. You deserve more than that, especially from me.’

Tengis moved towards Odval and tried to take her hand. Although only a short time had passed since they had last met, Tengis felt as though he had grown and matured far beyond his years. Upon seeing Odval, he knew that he no longer merely wanted her friendship. She was more, far more. He looked beyond her curt glare. He could only see the beauty in her eyes, her smooth face, her glistening dark hair, her perfectly formed figure. A sudden sense of longing filled him; he needed to hold her close to him but was too afraid to move closer – afraid that, if he held her, he would never be able to let go. His breathing became deeper, his self-control vanished.

‘Why are you staring at me like that?’ asked Odval. ‘And why is your mouth hanging open? Do you have any idea how stupid you look? And what's all this silliness about Chinggis? It's one thing to dream about an emperor; it's another to use his name as a means of communicating your ideologies, and quite another altogether to believe that you are an emperor. I assume you still think that you
are
an emperor?’

‘I do,’ said Tengis enthusiastically. He was daydreaming and utterly oblivious to what Odval was saying.

‘If you persist with this line of thought,’ said Odval, ‘then I absolutely insist that, if we are to be friends, only friends mind you, that you pay a visit to Doctor Todd the Mind Minister. I've done some thinking about what you said. I have never had reason to doubt you in all the time we have known each other, but your outburst at school was frightening. If I agree to be friends with you, will you promise to make an appointment with Doctor Todd?’

Tengis said nothing but closed his eyes, puckered his lips and moved closer to Odval. He was still very deeply enjoying his daydream. Not quite knowing what to do, Odval stuck her fore-finger
between his lips and wiggled it around a bit. It felt odd but it also had the desired effect of waking Tengis back into the present.

‘Absolutely barking!’ said Odval. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. They both blushed.

‘Friends?’ asked Tengis.

‘Friends,’ confirmed Odval.

She cuddled Tengis. Tengis laid his head on her shoulder. She was warm and he thought she smelled good. Everything had worked out just as he had wanted.

13

‘I can make a decision,’ mumbled Lily.

Only her horse Lucky could hear her. They had been riding across the Steppe towards Baatarulaan for two days and hadn't seen a single person. If you were all alone, the Steppe could make you feel even more so. However, it had given Lily ample time to think about what her spirit guide had been telling her.

‘Silly horse, why can't you talk?’

Lily still had so many unresolved questions. She hoped that going to the city would help answer them. It was the first time Lily would have been to Baatarulaan and, although she thought of herself as braver than any of the herders she lived with, the idea of being in a place crammed with so many people intimidated her. Still, her father had been going there since he had been young. Unfortunately, her father had been imprisoned on his last scavenging outing. Lily hoped that, as well as addressing her questions, she might be able to find her father and help him return to the herders. He was after all their rightful leader; she had only ever agreed to take the role on a temporary basis.

Lily and Lucky continued plodding across the vast open arid plain. Snow began to fall. In Ongolium, snowfall was light. There was lots of it but, because of the dryness, snowflakes were tiny. They rarely had an opportunity to lie on the ground before they evaporated back into the atmosphere. Today the environment was allowing a sparkling carpet to be formed. It crunched
quietly under Lucky's hooves. His dark shoes glided gracefully across the glittering ground.

Riding around a rocky outcrop. Lily could see that the horizon had changed. Lucky let out a loud snort of disapproval. All her life Lily had only ever seen the Steppe on the horizon. She was now presented with what looked like man-made mountains; each was uniformly perpendicular. Instead of wide opening valleys and space there was barely a gap between the mountains. It seemed as though cliffs fell away sharply from each mountain before rising up into the next. The vision occupied the central part of the Steppe lying in front of her. Either side it stopped suddenly. Its centre was its peak, the mountains there rising higher than the rest. Above the artificial mountain range there hung a thick, dull-looking cloud. It was unlike any cloud she had seen before. It was far lower than she would normally expect to see clouds, and seemingly made of a different texture, although from this distance it was hard to tell. What puzzled her most was why the cloud seemed to be attached to the man-made mountains at various points where what looked like rocky towers rose into the sky. But Lily was not afraid. Her first sight of Baatarulaan had filled her, rather, with a sense of wonder and adventure. She spurred on Lucky, who very reluctantly moved a little faster, but not much.

As Lily neared the entrance to Baatarulaan she was able to better absorb what she was seeing. There were no mountains. She could see wooden and metallic structures that looked as though they were filled with people. In her experience people lived in small gers. Here she found herself confronted by buildings up to six storeys high. The drab grey stone structures were packed full of people. Every window had a dank light on the inside showcasing at least one, but more often two or more, citizens sitting blankly in their homes. The tracks between buildings were equally busy. People walked here and there
purposefully, their hands shoved deep into their pockets; few, if any, took notice of other people around them. They walked fast and bumped into one another grumpily. On corners, small groups of people stood warming their hands against the cold over barrels filled with flame. The more Lily examined the city the less she was able to find any soul.

Anxiously Lucky strode deeper into Baatarulaan. It was not noisy but there was an eternal din that rang through Lily and her steed's minds. They were used to the contemplative silence of the Steppe. In Baatarulaan, the hubbub of chatter, movement and general day-to-day doings of the city's one million inhabitants were enough to generate a din that forbade peacefulness. Lucky snorted deeply and then sneezed violently. Lily patted his neck fondly. She was feeling the same way.

The city had a stench that was both unfamiliar and repugnant. It was the smell of a million lives spent living too closely together in unsanitary conditions. Lily's ger camp had occasionally stunk of horse or camel dung, but Baatarulaan took things to a completely different level. Lily could tell that the sides of the well-worn tracks were to be avoided at all cost. For many decades the townsfolk had used the gutters as a dumping ground for their more odious household refuse. In turn, the city leaders had long felt it was better not to do anything about the reeking remnants. In their opinion, they were so toxic that given time they would rot themselves away. It was their attempt at embracing environmentalism and they made much of it in the media.

Lily dismounted and, patting Lucky's head, tied some dried herbs to his reins. He showed an immediate improvement. Walking slowly, she led him on, her eyes wide in wonder.

‘Excuse me,’ said Lily. She tried to grab the attention of a passer-by. The first man ignored her. ‘Excuse me,’ she said again. The second man cast her a look of contempt before
walking away. ‘Please, excuse me,’ said Lily to a lady carrying shopping bags filled with newspaper and empty canisters. The lady grunted and pushed past her. ‘These people are so rude!’ exclaimed Lily to her horse.

As Lily examined them, she noted that the menfolk of Baatarulaan were far more stocky and rounded than those she had grown up with on the Steppe. They had gruff faces that Lily feared shielded an even more gruff temperament within. Most of them dressed in the same long traditional del robes made of felt worn in the countryside, although the urban versions were more ornately decorated. On their feet the men wore thick leather boots that were designed for warmth not looks. In contrast, the women of Baatarulaan were beautiful. Several inches taller than the women who lived in the herder communities, the city ladies proudly wore what Lily presumed to be the latest fashions. They were far slimmer and carried a less pronounced bosom than their countryside cousins and their facial bone structures seemed designed entirely to give aesthetic pleasure.

‘Hey you,’ said a voice. ‘Hey you, young woman. You new here?’ A grubby-looking man walked out of nearby shadows towards them. Both horse and rider backed away. ‘You new here? Where you from? You're not from round here, are you?’

‘Hello, sir,’ said Lily, ‘we have just arrived. We . . . we . . . we are from a different part.’ Lily didn't want to disclose that she was a herder. Her father had warned her that Baatarulaan's residents were highly suspect of anyone from outside the city limits and the city's rulers would immediately imprison anyone of that variety. Lily had presumed this was why her father had not returned to their camp.

‘Which part?’ said the man. ‘District 4? District 11? Possibly District 13?’

‘District 8,’ said Lily. Eight was her favourite number.

‘Oh,’ said the man, ‘that'll be why you have the horse. How are the crops this year? We gonna get any food? What about this, can I buy your horse; it sure looks tasty?’

The concept of eating horsemeat – let alone Lucky – filled Lily with horror.

‘My name is Lily,’ said Lily. ‘I am in this area on business.’ Lily didn't really know what business was but knew that people who wanted to sound important tended to say they were on business regardless of what it was they were doing. ‘Important business,’ added Lily for effect.

‘Wow!’ said the man. He whistled theatrically. ‘Why didn't you say?’ He made an exaggerated bow in her direction and doffed his filthy cap. ‘My name is Drudger. It be a pleasure to be meeting you. I am at your disposal.’

Lily prayed she would be able to dispose of him soon. On the other hand she needed help finding lodgings and some place to stable Lucky. She figured there was little harm in asking Drudger for assistance; he seemed an all right kind of person and had been the only one to stop and talk to her.

‘No problem,’ said Drudger. ‘I know a lovely little guesthouse, perfect for a lady of your standing. They've got a stable, too, from memory, though it probably ain't seen no horse in our lifetime. You don't get many horses round here, not live ones at any rate. Anyways, follow me.’ Drudger shot off, walking fast along some of the darker, narrower tracks that weaved their way between the oppressive buildings.

Lily followed hastily with Lucky in tow. She only just managed to keep up with Drudger as he wove left and right around corners that made Lily dizzy. An hour previously Lily had never been on a street. She was now finding herself chasing a stranger, turning tight corners in semi-darkness along busy streets in the middle of a noisy, smelly city while trying desperately to give off the impression that she knew what she was
about. In a matter of minutes she was completely lost. Her only option was to keep Drudger in her sights and follow him wherever it was he was leading her. This was not an altogether appealing option but at that particular moment it was the only one she had.

Eventually Drudger stopped. ‘I'm sorry about the rush, miss,’ said Drudger. ‘You never know who is following you in this place. Anyway, we're here.’ He opened a rickety gate that led into a small muddy yard.

They had a reached a dead end. On the three sides ahead of them were tall buildings reaching up towards the sky. Behind them Lily noticed that they had come through a hole in another equally imposing building that led back into the labyrinthine passageways she had been chasing Drudger along. No natural light found its way here, but at least there was quiet and the stench of outside seemed to be kept at bay. There was very little that was striking about the place but it had a sense of order and peace that Lily had yet seen elsewhere in her short time in Baatarulaan. A door on the ground floor of one of the buildings creaked open and a large man peeked around it nervously.