The women were waiting on the knoll above the mouth of the canyon when Kati came to Festival. She'd ridden through a day and night, using several stops to heal and energize her animal with the purple light from her hands. The horse was tiring again when Kati saw the women, and she urged it to a trot; it responded, but was near exhaustion, for it was not a mountain horse.
Goldani was there to greet her, and the other ordu leaders nodded politely. Kati was in her leathers, quiver and bow across her back, a sharpened sword in the saddle scabbard. The women had already changed into their colorful robes and sat quietly on horseback, thinking private thoughts to bring on The Change in their faces for the procession. Goldani had achieved it, her canines glimmering, eyes light green like Manlee's and Ma's had been.
Goldani reached over to hold Kati's hand warmly in hers for a moment. "You're punctual, but we would have waited for you. I ride in the place that should have been your mother's. I'd be honored if you'd ride with me. Do you remember the rituals?"
"Yes, Goldani. Thank you for inviting me."
"This is your place among us. Are we ready?"
The other women nodded, eyes red, with faces of the shizi.
They formed a column and descended the knoll to the sandy trail into the canyon: high, orange walls of sandstone with seams of black coal, the walls closing ahead beneath an arch. She had come this way before, sitting on Kaidu, Da's chest against her back. Her little Empress, he'd thought, and then died without knowing the truth. Now she'd returned as a woman, a Tumatsin, riding in a place of leadership because of Goldani's graciousness.
It was a lie. She was not Tumatsin, or Moshuguang, but a unique blend of the two, trying to somehow bring them together with a common cause.
The din of a thousand voices came to her from beneath the arch. The trip through the canyon seemed so short this time, and the people were there, just ahead, waiting to see the woman who said she would be Empress of Shanji. Kati was suddenly apprehensive.
Goldani drew out her sword, and Kati did likewise, placing its pommel on her knee, curving blade upright. The blade was scratched and pitted from countless blows aimed at her face and body, while Goldani's was pristine and ornamental. My blade is not for ritual, Kati thought. It is for killing.
Kati thought of war, and felt The Change come upon her, as if an invisible hand gripped her face to pull it downwards. The canines pressed hard on her lower lip. She opened her mouth slightly, and allowed a soft growl to escape with her breath.
Goldani looked over at her, and smiled.
Voices, sudden shouts, and the sound of rushing water as they passed beneath the arch and out onto soft sand. The waterfall, the pool, all was as she remembered it, but now there was a sea of faces, all looking at her, and the only sound was the splash of water. She growled again, opening her mouth wider in display, and her upper gums were aching from the pressure of distended teeth. The blade of her sword was now tinted green in the light of her eyes, and people ogled her, drawing back a step as she passed by.
They went to the pool, and stood in a line before it. A few tents were up, but mostly there were heaps of possessions, tightly packed together on the sand, the people sitting on top of them. Near the front of the crowd, a young woman smiled up at Kati with an expression of delight, pointed at her, then whispered to a man sitting next to her with their two children.
Goldani waved her hand, and the waterfall ceased flowing behind them. Kati remembered thinking it magic, but Ma had explained that a man simply closed a gate at the top of the waterfall, diverting the stream that fed it, and giving them the silence to hear the hot breath from the Eye of Tengri-Nayon.
And it was there, the sound from deep inside the ground, coming down the hanging canyon to her left. All those assembled listened to it for a moment, and then Goldani raised her arms.
"We're gathered for a special Festival in the Eye of Tengri-Nayon, and in the presence of the living Empress Mandughai, who watches over us all! She comes soon to free us, and has sent an emissary to tell us what we must do! She has chosen one of our own as emissary, a Tumatsin woman taken from us in tragedy and returned in triumph. That woman sits beside me. She is Kati, daughter of Toregene and Temujin. The leaders of your ordus have told you the story of Kati's life and how she came to be chosen by Mandughai. There are those of us who have seen a sampling of her powers. But she comes with a warning about our liberation by Mandughai, for it is not to happen in the way we've believed! Many of you have doubts. You must hear that warning directly from the mouth of The One our Empress sends to us."
The people were silent, all expressions serious; their eyes were on Kati.
"Tell them," said Goldani, "exactly as you told it to me."
Kati took a deep breath, cheeks flushed, and her voice came forth as a hoarse, throaty growl that surprised her audience.
"I bring greetings from Mandughai, who has sent me here and made me all that I am! She arrives in only a few months with a great army to rid you of the Emperor and bring freedom for all the people of Shanji, of which you're only a part. She brings freedom to Tumatsin and Hansui alike, but especially to the millions living in poor conditions to the east of the mountains, people you've never seen who live in filth and poverty while slaving for nobles who do not care about them. Your lives are good, by comparison. There is much misery in our world, and Mandughai will not have it remain any longer! She will rid Shanji of poverty, and requires all the people, Tumatsin and Hansui, to work towards that goal! We must come together, work together. We are all one people, with one Empress. The division between us must come to an end when the Emperor is gone!"
The expression of many men had turned to scowls, and they were whispering among each other. Kati glared at each of them until the whispering stopped.
"Your hatred for the Hansui runs deep, and has reason. I also have reason to hate them; they killed my mother, and burned the ordu of my childhood. But I've learned there are many good people among the Hansui, people who care about every living being, and work for justice and equality, all the things you expect Mandughai to give you. She will give you nothing! She expects you to do it, by working together as one people."
The men were whispering again. This time, she didn't stop them.
"I know your doubts! I hear them in your minds, for Mandughai has also made me Moshuguang, a Searcher. She also hears your doubts, and has told me you'll only unite with the Hansui to fight a common threat. I didn't accept that, at first, but now I do. Her army will move against all of us, Tumatsin and Hansui alike. We'll unite in fighting Her army, or be destroyed, and leave Her to begin again. I'm committed to your defense, even if you will not aid me in defending the Hansui. I ride with my soldiers! I do not watch from afar! I'll give up my life to defend all the people of Shanji, not just the Tumatsin. And I ask you to join me in defending our world."
"You proclaim yourself Empress!" shouted a man.
"You're rude!" cried Goldani. "Quiet!"
"No! Let him speak. It's the men who risk their lives in war, and they must believe in the reason for such risk. Mandughai has chosen me, not I. She's taught me, extended my powers, all of it in preparation to bring change to Shanji, and a better life for all the people. You've all been told of my plans for reform."
"So give us a sign of your powers!" shouted the same man.
"I'll do that tonight—by this pool. I'll expect to see you here. But I fear you'll only believe when your ordus are burning. And when that time comes, I will be there to defend you!"
Goldani interrupted before Kati could take a breath.
"You hear her words! She has given her warning, and you must think about it. We can be destroyed, or we can follow the will of Mandughai, and do what has been told to us. Our long wait is over. Our prayers have been answered, though not in the way we've expected. There will be new rule on Shanji! There will be justice, and a better life for all of us if we choose it. Now, let us go to the fields to eat, and to celebrate the fulfillment of our prayers!"
The children jumped to their feet, excited, though the adults were still serious looking and quiet. One exception was the young woman who'd been smiling at Kati. She was beaming now, and rushed to Kati's side as the women were just turning their horses.
"Kati! It is you! You're still wearing the necklace of shells I gave you when we got our horses!"
"Edi? Is it you? I would never have guessed!" Kati reached down to take the woman's offered hand. "I saw you there, You have children!"
"Two," said Edi. "Do you remember the little wooden knife you gave me?"
"Yes."
"You see, on the belt of my son Tuli. I've passed your gift on to my son."
"We must go," said Goldani.
"I want to talk more," said Kati. "After our meal?"
"I want to hear everything," said Edi, and released Kati's hand.
The column of women on horseback started up the hanging canyon, and the people formed a long line behind them, those in front pressing in closely to keep watching Kati as best they could. Hot air and a sharp odor swirled between the rock walls towering above them, the roar of Tengri's Eye drowning out any conversation as they neared it.
"I wish to make a small demonstration," said Kati, as they reached The Eye. She stopped by it, and the other women went on. Kati held up a hand to the people and shouted.
"I came here as a child, and The Eye burns as it did then. I will make it burn brighter to celebrate the fulfillment of our prayers! Stay to your left, so you'll not be burned by it!"
Kati held out a hand towards The Eye of Tengri, and the burning coal seam deep within, a column of organic vapors rising from it. The gesture was only ritual, her aura entering the hot cavern and drawing heat from it like a cosmic bellows. The fire hurried to follow her, intensifying. A column of hot gas and flame erupted from the cavern, searing rock to a glaze, and startling Kati's horse into rearing.
Stay. She froze the animal in place, enveloping the two of them in a blue auric shield she knew would be seen by the women. The column of flame rushed upwards, and past her within two arms' length as she sat there calmly, hand outstretched. The people shielded their eyes, pressing to the rock wall to slide past her as quickly as they could.
It was half an hour before all the people had filed past in a tumble, and then they stopped to look back at her.
"Now sleep!" said Kati. She lowered her hand, and the column of flame disappeared as if sucked on by a great inhalation from deep within The Eye.
There was fear on the faces of the people, and yet she saw faint smiles from some of the women. The terror of such wonderment, such power, was somehow muted by the fact she was one of them. Kati followed them up the canyon, but they kept looking back, as if expecting a new wonder.
Then they reached the plateau, with the colorful gerts, the smells of meat cooking, the big field roped off for games, all as she remembered.
With the reversal of her change, her face relaxed and the tension left her mouth; she was the familiar Kati, or Mengnu, again, a daughter of the Tumatsin—and the Moshuguang.
When the people saw her on the plateau, now smiling as she looked around to recall memories, they also seemed to relax. Children ran past her with honeycakes, and young boys trotted their horses on the game field, sitting erect and looking around to see who was watching them. The adults were lined up for food, the men shouting as they heard the pop of an ayrog skin being opened.
Goldani came up to her on foot, and Kati dismounted, tethering her horse at the edge of the game field. They waited in line with the others, and stuffed themselves with lamb, potatoes, cheese and barleycakes, even drank cups of ayrog offered to them by the men. Kati noticed the way the men looked at her, a few cups of ayrog now in their bellies, and it was different than it had been before. For the moment, at least, they saw her face, not her power, and she was able to relax even more. For the moment, she was simply one of them.
Edi came by to sit with her while they ate their meal before a ger. She talked about her husband, a herder of sheep for the Kereit ordu well down the coast. She'd discovered him at Festival, and now there were children, a boy and a girl, their first horses yet to come.
They stood together at the edge of the game field, and Kati's eyes filled with tears as they watched three boys and two girls receive first horses from their fathers: the squeals of joy, the hugs, fathers at first leading the animals, then releasing the children to ride round and around the field.
Edi saw the tears in Kati's eyes, and hugged her arm. "We rode around and around, until it was dark, and they had to come out to get us off our horses."
"Yes," said Kati, but she wasn't thinking about dear Sushua. She thought again about Da, and his loss. Her loss.
Forgive me, Mengmoshu, but he was the only father I knew as a child.
These children were no different than she and Edi. They rode until nightfall, and the fathers had to go out and pull their protesting children from the horses.
With a brilliant Tengri-Nayon overhead, they left the plateau to walk down the canyon, passing the glow of The Eye. Goldani offered her tent to share with Kati, for Baber had not come with her. It was a disappointment to Kati, but Goldani pointed out he was a fisherman now, and none of them were there. The fish did not come to Festival. As a child, it had seemed to Kati that all Tumatsin were at Festival, but now she saw it was only a small portion of them, only those who could make time for fun, or the few who truly believed in Mandughai or Her coming. They'd prayed for two thousand years, and nothing had happened. Now it was happening, and they didn't believe.
She saw the man who'd shouted at her when she'd spoken earlier. He was drinking ayrog before his ger, and a woman sitting with him nudged him with an elbow as Kati approached.
"You wanted a sign?" she asked.
"I saw what you did with The Eye," the man said, lowering his eyes.
"I'll do something more useful, now."
Kati walked back to the edge of the pool, heard whispers and the shuffling of feet behind her. She stood at pool-edge, waiting until it was quiet, then stretched her arms out over the water. She pushed her aura out over the pool, flattening it to a disk, then closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. All ritual, the aura a point of focus for her mind, for Kati did not yet understand how she brought the light from the gong-shi-jie, It was simply there when she wanted it, streaming through openings small beyond imagination, and now it was coming again, a purple shower like rain, falling from aura to pool.
The people behind her gasped as fog appeared above the water, then steam and bubbles as the pool came to a roiling boil in only seconds.
Kati turned around, and smiled, as if amused. "The night is cold, and now we can all have a warm bath," she said, and sat down to remove her boots.
People scrambled to their gerts to change clothes, and Goldani laughed. "I will get you a robe," she said to Kati.
The little children bathed nude, the men in their underclothes, the women in robes. The pool was quickly filled, but the water was so hot that people willingly gave up their places after only a few minutes. Kati went in three times, finally emerging for sleep, drowsy and wobbly. Goldani helped her into bed, the sound of happy bathers still coming from outside.
Goldani smiled. "I think you'll be a very practical Empress," she said.
The people saw them as games, but not Kati. Tests, yes, but not games, not with a war so close in their future.
She watched the men shoot their arrows at fifty paces to man-sized, straw targets, and asked if she could join them, an unheard-of request by a Tumatsin woman. The men allowed it out of curiosity more than anything else. Then they seemed surprised by her accuracy and speed with the bow. Still, there were men more accurate than she, even better than the troops she'd practiced with for years.
It was with the sword, even on horseback, that they lacked training. The sword was a symbol of a Tumatsin past, when the first Mandughai's army had come. The women carried it in ceremony, the men used it in games on horseback, striking at straw targets with great force, but little technique, and a trained soldier on foot would disembowel them in an instant. On foot, they knew nothing of the blade's art. On foot, man-to-man, they were helpless.
Kati asked to join them again, and again they were curious about what she could do in a man's game. They loaned her a grey mountain horse, a young mare with thick shoulders and good spirit. Her own horse from the city still limped slightly on a sore foot. When she felt the animal bunching its muscles in excitement beneath her, she knew it would be a mountain horse she rode into battle, both for stamina and quickness. There were none better; even the Hansui knew it.
She rode with the men, and felt The Change come upon her as she charged around the field in pattern after pattern, growling, then shrieking as she struck each target, not just slashing wildly, but using deft jabs with single, double, even triple feints, her blade a blur to the eye. It was like practice with the troopers, and she was quickly focused on it, oblivious to anything else around. She didn't hear the quieting of the crowd around the field, or notice the men ride to its edges to watch her.
She completed another round, and finally noticed she was alone on the game field. It was embarrassing to her, all the people watching, the men just sitting on their horses. Kati walked her horse to them as she sheathed her sword. "I'm sorry. I didn't notice you'd finished with the game."
"You didn't learn to do that when you were a child," said a man, smiling. All the men studied her alertly, and she was relieved. They did not seem offended by her display.
"No. I've studied with a sword master, and trained with the Emperor's troopers for several years."
"They are as skilled as you?" asked the same man.
"Some better, but I've held my own with them. When The Change is upon me, not one of them has defeated me. My Tumatsin blood gives me an advantage they don't have."
"The advantage of a woman," said the man, and she knew what he was thinking. The skill she'd displayed was superior to theirs. The skill of the Emperor's troopers was superior to theirs. They'd played games, while others prepared for war. They were vulnerable to attack.
"Do you practice hand-to-hand with the sword?" she asked.
"No." The men looked grim, now.
"I can give you some exercises to practice, if you're willing. You only have a few months to practice, but it's enough to make a difference. I can show you now, if you wish, but you'll have to teach others. I'll not be able to return before Mandughai comes with Her army."
"Then show us," said the man, dismounting, and drawing his sword.
The others followed him, and Kati took them to a far corner of the field, forming them into two lines facing each other. For one hour, and another hour later in the afternoon, she taught them the ten dongs of Master Yung, and had them practice at sword's length. A first lesson, but there was no more time. Still, they learned quickly, and she was able to correct the most glaring errors they made. A small skill was better than nothing. It would not be much against Mandughai's troops. Kati's people would not be prepared for war.
Kati did what she could, and the crowd around the field was amused by the sight of the men hacking away at each other. Goldani finally came out to the field to halt their practice. "Get to your horses. It's time for the ceremony of Mandughai's charge against the Emperor."
The men left, talking among themselves, and Goldani turned to Kati. "When you were a child, it was Toregene, your mother, who led the charge. I would like you to do it with me, in her place."
Kati was moved to tears. "I thank you for such an honor, Goldani. Your kindness is more than I expected. I'll join you to honor my mother."
She went back to her horse, and rode over to join the ceremonial warriors assembled at the end of the field. Goldani was again in her robe, eyes light green. The Change was upon her, and a group of perhaps fifty men were jostling their horses behind her. As a child, it had seemed there were thousands participating in the ritual charge, but now she saw how few there were. They were farmers, herders, craftsmen, not soldiers. They played games, and acted out war, based on a memory that was false. The first Mandughai had come with fierce, bioengineered troops to destroy them all, not to save them from the Emperor. Her soldiers had the faces of shizi, and battle was the purpose of their lives. How many would come? Thousands? Tens of thousands? And now, here was Kati, leading a charge of fifty untrained men to entertain the crowd watching them.
The Change was fully upon her as the men formed two lines behind them. "There's a ritual we use with the Emperor's troopers before a charge," she growled to Goldani. "Will you trust me to use it here?"
Goldani nodded, and Kati turned her horse towards the men.
"Hold out your swords!" she shouted with a hoarse voice.
They did so, blades gleaming. Kati withdrew her own, battered sword, and shrieked at them, "This is not play! It is real! The next time you do this, a hoard of invaders will be coming at you to murder your families and burn your ordus! You're all that stand in their way! You are the only defense of your people!"
The men looked at her, astonished. Kati kicked her horse, and rode back and forth along the two lines of men, slapping each blade hard with her own, and screaming, "You defend your families! You defend your ordus! You defend Shanji! Now let the enemy hear you coming!"
The men were screaming before she made the last turn back towards Goldani. The woman saw her coming, and kicked her horse, but then Kati was past her, blood boiling, her blade outstretched as she screamed.
"SHANJIIII!"
They covered the length of the field in seconds, the crowd trilling and screaming with them. They formed up again, horses snorting, banging hard against each other in their excitement.
"Again!" shouted Goldani.
"SHANJIII!" a chorus of bass screams as they crossed the field a second time to the cheers of the crowd.
Now everyone was laughing, dismounting, the swords again in their scabbards. "It was a good charge," said Goldani. "They have the spirit."
"Yes," said Kati, frowning at her, "but they do not understand."
There was nothing more she could do. Kati felt frustration, and some despair. Even the trained troops of the Moshuguang had never known true battle with a skilled army. And battle would come, forced on her by a woman she loved, and another who craved only power. How many would die before Mandughai was satisfied with their opposition? Or would it be all of them? All her loud threats to Yesugen were suddenly silly. Destroy all her ships indeed. She didn't even know if she could bring herself to use the light of the gong-shi-jie against a human life. If she could not, then Shanji was doomed, for Yesugen would bring a superior force for conquest, and only Kati's powers could stop her.
The joy of Festival was suddenly gone from her. She went back to a ger to sit grimly before it while the people ate and visited with friends. The little children came out again to ride their first horses. Some were already leaving the field to pack their belongings for treks back to the more southerly ordus.
Goldani brought her a plate of food, and sat beside her to eat, "You're not happy," she said.
"I'm afraid," said Kati. "I'm afraid about what will happen to them when Mandughai's army comes. They don't even believe it."
"I believe, and there are others. Many are not here."
"It won't be enough. I'll do what I can, Goldani. I'll bring as many troopers as I can, but I'm still afraid for them all. It's coming so soon!"
Goldani put a hand on her shoulder, then went back to her eating, chewing slowly.
"How can you be so calm?" asked Kati.
Goldani smiled serenely. "I take you at your word. You've said Mandughai hopes to break off Her attack at the first sign of unified opposition from us. That is my hope."
"Those were Her words," said Kati. She'd said nothing about Yesugen, and would not do it now.
"You don't believe Her?"
"I want to."
"But you have doubts."
"Yes." Kati thought again of the real leader of the invasion: Yesugen, the cold, imperious one from the gong-shi-jie, the one who had drugged her own mother to enable a private meeting with her adversary. She might have killed her mother in such a way. What else was she capable of?
"Don't underestimate your own people, Kati. We live simple lives in isolation, but we've not survived all these years by being foolish. We're practical people, capable of making decisions we'd rather not make. I think we'll demonstrate that when the time comes. Things will be decided by Mandughai's mercy, not by how well we do in battle. We must trust Her."
"Your belief is strong, Goldani, though you've never seen Her, or talked to Her as I have. I admire your faith."
"I also have faith in the Tumatsin woman who will be Empress of Shanji," said Goldani, "and I have faith in the people."
Kati leaned against her, and Goldani put an arm around her shoulders.
"So soon," said Kati. "So soon."
She worked with the men a final time in the afternoon, and then Festival was over, and everyone was leaving. She found Edi again, and they talked while the horses were packed, and then they were gone. The people were gone, and the sand was empty by the pool, the only sound that of the breath from The Eye of Tengri-Nayon, and she was standing alone with Goldani as the waterfall began to splash again. Everything was completed, and the people were still not together.
There would be war soon.
She rode through the canyon with Goldani, and they parted at the intersection of trails heading west, east, and south. Goldani leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek.
"Have faith in Mandughai," she said, "and in yourself."
Goldani turned her horse, and rode away towards the glimmering sea. Kati watched her until she was a speck, then turned her horse east. The animal seemed rested. She walked it for several hours, breaking into an occasional trot as the sky darkened, and Tengri-Nayon was glaring down at her. The following afternoon, when she saw the silhouette of Three Peaks, not far ahead, she went to a slow gallop, holding it much of the way back to the Emperor's city—and Huomeng.
She wondered how much time they were destined to have together.