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or defeat."
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"Doesn't that put him in much danger? Wouldn't they be likely to slit his throat one night and be rid of
him?"
She shook her head, tossing that stray lock of hair back over her eyes. Again she pushed it back, this
time without a shock.
"Ahriman has been very clever. He came toKarakorum, from what I hear, as a priest of a new religion.
A warrior's religion. The Mongols do not harm priests; they tolerate all religions. So, even though there is
great fear of Ahriman's powers, the High Khan will not allow him to be harmed so long as his
prophecies of victory continue to be true."
He was clever, I thought. More clever than I, to understand these people so thoroughly.
"Besides," Agla went on, a bit more lightly, "the Mongols do not shed the blood of important
personages."
"Oh? Then what..."
"They strangle them, or smother them beneath carpets. The Yassa forbids bloodletting among the
Mongols, but it does not overlook the need for killing."
I sat in the stiff wooden chair, digesting all that Agla had told me. I could not help seeing Ahriman's face,
and his ghastly smile, as I considered the fact that not even Genghis Khan's code of laws could prevent
human beings from murdering one another.
Ye Liu Chutsai returned at last, looking somewhat puzzled, as if he could not quite remember why he
was doing what he was doing.
"It is arranged," he said to me. "You will be received by the High Khan tonight, before the evening meal.
You will come alone."
I glanced at Agla.
"The High Khan," explained Liu, "would not respect a man who was accompanied by a woman. It is the
way of the Mongols, and no insult to you, lady."
"I am not insulted," Agla said. "Merely afraid that Orion might not understand everything that happens in
Ogotai's court."
"I will be there to guide him," Liu said. "He is in enough peril, with Ahriman's prophecy already working
against him, to have him appear before the High Khan with a woman at his side, and a woman whom
many in Karakorum know to be a healer and perhaps something of a witch..." He let the thought
dangle.
"I understand," I told him. But, remembering what had happened to Aretha, I added, "I would like to
have the guards protect Agla while I am away from her. Ahriman, or others, might try to strike at me
through her."
The mandarin bowed his head slightly. "It will be done. You are both under my protection, for whatever
good that does. And you, Orion, still have Subotai's recommendation to protect you."
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I smiled at him. "I value Subotai's generosity, and I treasure your own, my lord Chutsai."
That pleased him. But he warned, "A shield is only as strong as the arm on which it is worn. You have a
powerful enemy here atKarakorum. Be careful."
"Thank you, my lord. I will be."
Late that afternoon, as Agla fussed nervously about our quarters and I tried to concentrate on
understanding what I had learned thus far so that I could peer into the future and determine what I must
say to Ogotai, a servant brought new clothes for me to wear for my appearance before the High Khan. A
gift from Ye Liu Chutsai.
Agla marveled at the outfit of leather and fine cloth. "You look like a prince! A handsome, powerful
prince."
I smiled at her, although it hurt my newly shaven face. Shaving in cold water with a finely honed knife is a
true test of courage. Agla beamed at me like a little girl and tried not to show how worried she was. We
both knew that visitors to the High Khan's pavilion sometimes came away with gifts of gold and slaves
and even horses. But sometimes they came away with molten silver poured into their ears.
"You must be very careful," she warned me, staring at me with somber, anxious eyes.
"I will be."
"Let the mandarin guide you. Do not allow them to see your powers; that will frighten them, just as
Hulagu was frightened."
"Will Ahriman be there, do you think?"
Her gray eyes went even wider with fear. "I don't know. Perhaps."
Someone knocked at the door.
"Well, whether he is or not," I said, "that must be the guards to escort me to the pavilion."
Agla flung her arms around my neck. "I wish I were going with you!"
"I'll be all right," I said. I gave her a swift kiss and then went to the door and opened it. A quartet of
warriors stood outside, their gleaming armor and burnished helmets making our two regular guards look
scruffy and mangy by comparison.
I glanced over my shoulder at Agla, gave her a final smile, and closed the door. My escort marched me
to the pavilion, but not before I looked back to see her standing at the door watching me, while the two
guards looked back and forth from me to her.
I walked between the two bonfires and stood patiently while the guard at the entrance to the High
Khan's tent searched me for weapons. It was no perfunctory search; I have had medical examinations
that were less thorough.
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Finally I was allowed to enter the tent, my four escorts walking with me, two ahead and two behind. I
was either an important guest or a dangerous captive; I imagined that Ogotai and his aides had not yet
decided which.
The tent was much larger than Hulagu's or any other I had seen. Carpets fromChinaandPersiacovered
the ground. Silks and tapestries hung along the felt walls. To one side stood a long table of what
appeared to be solid silver, laden with mare's milk, fruit, meat and salt: a symbol of the nomad's
generosity to guests. Warriors stood at either end of the table, and more were posted at the various
entrances to the wide, long tent. Up ahead of me, on a one-step-high platform, sat Ogotai, the High
Khan, flanked on his left by half a dozen of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, and by twenty or
more Mongols who could only be generals and other warriors, on his right. I recognized only Ye Liu
Chutsai, standing in a splendid robe of sky blue and gold, to the High Khan's immediate right and slightly
behind him.
Ogotai reclined on cushions. He had no throne. He was a solid, chunky man, in his early fifties, I judged,
with an open, curious expression on his round face. He was getting fat, but he did not seem to care about
that. In one hand he held a wine goblet of gold, encrusted with jewels. Well behind him stood a Chinese
boy, holding a gold pitcher the Khan's wine steward.
As I marched in step with my four escorts toward the Khan's slightly raised dais, I scanned the big tent
for a sign of Ahriman. I could not see him. That was all to the good, I thought.
The warriors brought me to a stop three paces in front of the High Khan. I bowed from the waist, then
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