The Great Han

Forward:

This story was given to me as a challenge. Think of it as an alternate history to some degree. There are historical personages represented who interact with my invented characters. Feel free to ask which is which. There is plenty of graphic sex in this story, along with a lot of combat and violence. Just warning you now. Reviews and genuine critiques are welcome. Flames will be snickered at and deleted. Enjoy!

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Chapter 6

"Garaar gants huniig diilekh. Tolgoigoor myangan huniig diilekh."

"Conquer one with your hands, but a thousand with your head."

Alkol Nuur. The sapphire blue of the water in the great vale beckoned to them, along with the towering walls of the Taryagatai Mountains that rose all around them, their side covered in numberless emerald trees. All the Mongols present could not help but gape in wonder. No one present, not even Mai, had ever seen such vast forests before. They seemed as endless as the rasping grains of sand on the steppe.

"By the damn wolf," Khorijin muttered, astonished at the sight. The entirety of the steppes could not have had as much wood in it as one of these mountains. "We could go home with a hundred times what we've come to buy and still not make a dent in these forests."

"It's true, even I've never seen the like," Mai agreed, sitting atop her pony amongst the Uyghur scribes who had accompanied them. "And my people have access to plenty of wood, as well as trade with the Kyrgyz. I have seen their caravans."

Toragana nodded. "I have seen them as well, for my people traded with them as well. Their trade goods mean they need not live as we do, following our herds."

"Your father's pretense of building that permanent settlement seems even more foolish, then, since he had not to the means to defend it," Khorijin remarked, not hiding her snide tone.

Toragana shrugged. "Mayhap he was a fool, sister. My husband took his head, and now we will never know. Best not to speculate, since we actually have a mission to attend to."

Khorijin bristled at the implied dismissal of her words as irrelevant, but held her tongue. If Toragana had no intention of rising to the bait, then there was no sense in talking, because nobody was listening or cared. There was an uneasy (mostly on Khorijin's part) peace between the wives of Boldbator Khan, since they had resolved to focus on assisting him in unifying the tribes of the steppes, rather than vying for position and prominence with one another.

But it was Khorijin that it irked most, and mostly because she was the most hot-tempered and irascible. The younger sister of the Khan, she was also one of his three established wives, because of a prophecy about her that Boldbator chose not to ignore. Naturally, she assumed this made her as prominent as his First Wife, Sarantuya, but it didn't feel that way to her. She couldn't help but feel that Boldbator taking her to wife was simply him appeasing the gods.

It burned, the feeling that she was almost an afterthought. Did she not give herself to her brother as wholly as any of his other damned wives? Did she not fuck him vigorously, and being him to peaks of pleasure like the others? Was she not one of his devoted

bahatur,

his elite guards that rode with him on the battlefield and never left his side?

Then why was she out here, far from home, playing nursemaid and bodyguard to the Sukh bitch?

Because no one else can,

she finally admitted to herself. There was no one else he could trust with the mission, not even Kula. While he was a ferocious warrior, possibly as mighty in battle as Boldbator himself, Kula was a violent brute with little or no head for anything beyond simple tactics. He would have made an ill choice of guard for Toragana and the riches they sought to trade now with the Kyrgyz.

This is your part. Play it well. Fulfill your mission and obligation handed down to you by the khan, your brother, and he will continue to see your worth. There is nothing to be gained in protesting or squabbling with your sister-wife anymore.

Khorijin took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well. Let us find a place to make camp, and then we will continue at daybreak. I know nothing of these Kyrgyz and how they would react to our approach at night. They are no doubt watching us already, so let them have their fill of observing us, to see that we mean no harm. We will head into the vale at daybreak."

Everyone acquiesced readily, which pleased her. Toragana was in nominal charge, perhaps, of the entire endeavour, but she also readily acceded to Khorijin's superior skills in matters of a martial nature. If Khorijin felt it best to approach openly by day, and if nobody had any information to prove to the contrary, then that's how they would do things. She was the expert.

For protection, they had all fit themselves into one

ger

again, sleeping except for those on guard duty. Khorijin found herself lying alone, while Toragana and Solongo were snuggled into one another, and Mai was lying next to the Uyghur scribes, whispering to them occasionally in her damnable Chinese language. She found herself lost in thought, and with no one to talk to, they were dark thoughts indeed.

She felt decidedly alone, and wondered how much of that was her own fault- she'd pillowed with Toragana at least once on this excursion, and while certainly pleasant, it lacked the heady and terrifying thrill of making love to Mai, since they whispered of murdering one another before they climaxed together. The sister of the khan found herself feeling very out of sorts and did not know what to do about it.

She'd agreed, before Boldbator and even her mother, Turkina, to no longer war with her sister-wives, even Mai or Serantuya. The Chinese whore was completely off-limits to all threats, while Sarantuya no longer wished to fight with Khorijin, and this was most frustrating for the Mongol warrior.

How many times had they come to blows inside the

ger

they shared as Boldbator's wives? How many times had they rolled back and forth across the floor, wrestling, clawing, biting, and punching, trying to dominate one another? She remembered with a cold fury, but also a strange fondness, of the pain she felt when Sarantuya punched her in the cunt or clawed at her breasts, her eyes wild with fear and anger.

Khorijin had always won these savage fights, pummeling Sarantuya, the vaunted First Wife, into unconsciousness, or choking her into submission. Battered and broken, Sarantuya wept while Khorijin, always the superior warrior, violated her harshly, or pissed on her to show her contempt. Sarantuya may have come from a famed clan, but she was no Tengger when it came to fighting.

For all that, though, Sarantuya never backed down, even if Khorijin could smell her fear, and see it in her eyes. She fought her sister-wife, toe-to-toe, never fleeing or begging. And to Khorijin's secret delight, she seemed to have been getting better at fighting. There were times when Sarantuya had almost turned the tables on her and put her in dire straits. Only Khorijin's superior strength and ferocity had pulled her through at those moments, and Sarantuya was once again, left a trembling, scratched-up and bruised wreck on the dirt floor.

But those days seemed to be behind them now, and she felt both a pang of loss, and fear- what would replace the dynamic she had come to rely on to assert herself? Sarantuya would no longer fight, Mai had always been inviolate, and the new wife, Toragana, showed no interest whatsoever in what she considered to be a complete waste of time. She'd even gone so far as to ask Khorijin to train her to be a better warrior, to better serve their husband!

She heard subtle movement and then someone crawled under her hemp-fiber blanket and fur covering, nestling up behind her. She could already tell it was Toragana, and she frowned as she wondered why the Sukh woman was intruding on her.

"Solongo is grinding her teeth again in her sleep," Toragana whispered, her arm coming around Khorijin's body to hug her close for warmth. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar climes, but it

did

seem strangely colder here. "I won't be getting any sleep if I stay with her."

"What guarantee have I of any if you intend to grope me?" Khorijin almost hissed, trying to sound annoyed, even if she was not. That fact that she wasn't annoyed was what actually annoyed her.

"Trust me, I want to sleep as much as anybody," said her sister-wife quietly. "And I'm not lying with Galina next to those fat Uyghurs, I do not trust them, even if they were eunuchs. Therefore, I will share body heat with you."

"Just don't keep me awake with girlish nattering," Khorijin muttered, resigning herself to her fate. "You're not the only one with duties that must be executed."

"As you wish, sister," Toragana whispered before snuggling in closer and then going silent, as if already falling into a deep sleep. Khorijin shook her head and stared into the darkness, still disgruntled, even if she took some small comfort in Toragana's embrace.

She wasn't sure if she liked this new world or not. Only time would tell.

***

Boldbator stared into the hearth, deep in thought while Sarantuya knelt and fed yak chips into the fire. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet at the head of the

ger

, his fingers covering his mouth and his chin resting in his palm. His dark eyes reflected the flickering flames while he pondered his next moves. Determined to do the unprecedented and unite the fractious tribes of the steppes under his suzerainty, he could not be too careful, or too audacious. Such a challenge.

Nearby him, his younger brother Kula sat, trying to not shift around impatiently. He knew his place, he was Boldbator's cruel and brutal hammer, meant to crush his foes, but waiting was maddening. He had no head for plans and strategies, he only wished to annihilate the enemies of his clan.

Up on the small dais behind them, their mother, Turkina, waited with quiet grace. Much had changed recently, both within the clan, and also her relationships with her children. She remained, as she always had, a figure of great authority, not only with the Tengger clan, but also in the steppes, wife of the famed Arslan, khan before Boldbator, and father of her three children. But now, Boldbator, her eldest, had seen fit to put her in her place about certain matters pertaining to his household and his vision for their future, and it sat poorly with her.

Of course, she had obeyed her son, the khan, readily, but there were certain things she could do to make her displeasure known. He had told her, in no uncertain terms, that his soft Chinese whore, Mai, who dared to call herself Galina in the Khalkha tongue, was to not be interfered with or scorned any longer. She was to be accorded every courtesy as one of his wives, even if she was only his concubine. And if Turkina objected, Boldbator didn't care. She would accept his instruction, and not grudgingly.

Turkina complied. Even if she despised the Chinese whore, she would obey the khan, and treat Galina with dignity and respect. But there was a price, one that Boldbator had clearly suspected and was willing to accept- he would no longer be pillowing with his mother, as he had been since he became a man. Turkina had allowed this, because

someone

had to train her son to fuck women properly, and she held few expectations of his various wives' ability to do so, be it Sarantuya, or her own fearsome daughter Khorijin.

Boldbator clearly considered the price worth his while. Whatever it was he saw in the Chinese filth, it was worth more to him than his mother's warmth. He would never know her touch again. Turkina was certain, though, that she had come out on the losing side of this new understanding. Though she would never admit it, Boldbator could fuck her and make her climax even more powerfully than Arslan had. She would secretly miss it. She would need to find another lover to quench her passions now.

From behind and above, she watched her eldest son, lost in thought as he pondered his seemingly heaven-appointed task. He was sitting naked from the waist up, his bronze skin gleaming in the reddish light of the hearth. His powerful back muscles and sinews were visible under his taut skin and she felt a flush of warmth at the sight, yearning to feel his strength again.

Her eyes flicked up to look at the far side of the

ger

a split second before Sarantuya glanced at her, having finished feeding the fire. Though she liked the girl, and she knew that Sarantuya respected and admired her, it would not do to let the younger woman see her turmoil. Never.

Not far from Kula, in the woman's section of the

ger

, his first wife Chambui also waited, fidgeting with a needle as she worked on fixing the seam of a sheepskin

del

. Her husband was attending to his brother, the khan, and she was therefore attending to him. Kula's adopted daughter, Bolorma, was playing outside with other children. He kept the child far away from Chambui, who he did not trust with Bolorma's safety, such was his first wife's hatred for his newest wife, Solongo. Bolorma was cared for by Sarantuya and Turkina while Solongo was gone.

Kula finally sighed loudly, slapping his hands on his thighs. "What say you, brother? What is to be our next move? Who will we conquer?"

Boldbator blinked and looked up from the fire, having made his decision some time ago, but just considering the consequences of his actions down the road. What he had planned next was dangerous, no question. But if he was right, if his plan succeeded...

"The Taichiud," he said with a firm tone, indicating his decision was made, and not merely a consideration. "I will deal with the Taichiud next."

Sarantuya felt a chill shiver up her spin, despite the warmth of the

ger

. "A great family, my khan, and powerful. They are renowned warriors, and feared by their Naiman neighbours."

"Exactly," Boldbator said, nodding, looking at the fire again. "To best them will cause many clans to think twice before contesting my ambitions."

"Have you the strength yet, my khan, to contest them so?" his wife asked. Kula, Turkina, and even Chambui waited silently to hear his answer. This was indeed an audacious plan, even for Boldbator.

"While I do not doubt we could defeat them, we would be significantly reduced in strength if we face them in open battle," the khan stated, his eyes distant as he stared into the flames. "And that does not suit me. It hinders my plans."

"What, then, will you do, brother?" Kula asked, confused. How did Boldbator plan to conquer them if he did not fight them? If he could not smash something, Kula had little or no idea of how to overcome a problem. "If we do not fight them, how can we destroy them?"

"I do not want to destroy them, brother," Boldbator replied, showing his characteristic patience with Kula. He was well aware of his younger brother's limitations. He was as irascible as Khorijin, but lacked her intelligence and sense of scale and tactics. He fought like an enraged tiger, but he was a tool carefully employed on the battlefield, and an instrument of terror. Eventually, given his head, he would lose it to a smarter foe. "I want their warriors for myself. I want their strength for my armies. How will I ever conquer the Song, or even the Xia-Xia, if I kill every rider on the steppe?"

Kula put his face in his hands, stifling a groan. While his brother was no doubt right, he felt a deep frustration in these plans within plans, these wheels that never stopped turning. He almost yearned for the earlier days, when all they did was fight and raid with other clans. His blade was always wet with blood back then. He cared for little else.

"They are strong enough to not simply join you, brother," Kula stated, hoping he didn't sound exasperated. "And they are also wealthy, the treasure of Targetai will not move them, I fear. They are warriors of honour, not to be bought."

"It is that honour I am counting on," Boldbator answered, nodding, mostly to himself. "I intend to appeal to that honour and compel them to join us."

"I see the appeal of this plan, my son, but if their power rivals our own, why would they choose you as the khan to lead the tribes, when it could be their own?"

"That

Khamag

is not big enough for both of our clans," the eldest son said. "And they are aware that a war with us will hurt them badly, even if they were to win. And the Naiman clans would surely swoop in for the kill. If I force the issue, if I threaten them with war, then they know one side or the other will be destroyed, the other possibly crippled. Open battle with us does not serve their purpose."

"But once again, that will not compel them to bend their knee to you, my lord," Sarantuya gently pressed. Boldbator had a plan, they just needed to get it out of him now. Her husband was not known for being inclined to explain himself. "If we cannot defeat them in battle for fear of killing their warriors, whom you need, and they cannot be bought, then what?"

"Conquer one with your hands, and a thousand with your head," replied the Tengger khan. "I will appeal to their warrior's honour. A contest, a duel, will decide the fate of our clans."

Kula's eyes widened. "You expect them to allow a simple duel to decide the destiny of their people?"

"Look at their alternative," Boldbator reasoned, finally standing, flexing his toes and legs to get the feeling back in them. He'd been reflecting into the fire for almost five hours now. It was time to put his plan into action. "If they face us in battle, their next foe is the Naiman tribes, eager for the kill. If they defeat our champion in battle, we become their vassals, just as the Sukh became to us."

"But we defeat the damned Sukh in open battle," Kula protested, now standing as well. The wives both rose and scurried about now, while still listening. Turkina remained seated, as was her privilege, and paid close attention. Boldbator's mind never ceased to fascinate her- he was seeing their future on a scale no one else could contemplate readily. How had her eldest proven so different from her younger children? "What if they do not agree, and call your bluff?"

"It is no bluff, brother," the khan said firmly, turning to face his sibling. "If they do not agree to my duel and my terms, then it is war. And your blade will run crimson with Taichiud blood for months to come as we bring them to heel. Surely that prospect appeals to you."

Kula sighed again. "I do not know what I want, brother. What you say no doubt makes sense, but I do not see it for myself."

"Brother," Sarantuya intoned, facing Kula, and kneeling to bow respectfully. Chambui joined her quickly. "You are a mighty warrior, unmatched except by my husband, our khan. But I believe him now, when he says that his plan will work. I humbly implore that you give yourself to this endeavour, as only you can."

Still uncertain, Kula glanced over at his mother, who nodded subtly. That was good enough for him. He looked at Boldbator and nodded as well. "Very well, brother. As always, where you lead, I will follow. No matter how bizarre your plans sound to me, you have yet to lead us astray, and my blade does not lack for taste of blood. What now?"

Boldbator smiled wolfishly, encouraged by his brother's assent. "Envoys to the Taichiud, of course. And the selection of our champion."

***

The dirt road was quiet as they approached the settlement, protected by a tall wooden palisade. Watch towers commanded a view of the entire valley, and all its approaches. They could see guards wearing tall peaked helmets, carrying curved blades and compound bows, not unlike their own. Toragana did not know whether she found this encouraging or not.