There was panic along the rims of the hills. Pennants were dropped, and horses were rearing in fright, trying to run back from the rim but blocked by the crowd behind them. The wave of her awful energy surged ahead with a mind of its own, faster than she wished. She spread her aura over it, pulled back, but nothing happened. Now it was two hundred meters from the rims of the hills, blackened soil behind it, closing rapidly on its target.
KATI! STOP IT! We surrender! Don't let this happen! PLEASE!
Mandughai. Kati pulled again, harder, felt resistance from an energy density suddenly too great for her to handle.
Don't you understand? We GIVE UP! The war is OVER!
This time it was Yesugen. There was no time, now. Death was seconds away from the rims of the hills. Kati released her auric hold on her terrible creation, breaking the connection with the gong-shi-jie. The wall of swirling colors disappeared in a flash, leaving a shimmering image of the hills. Cool air rushed to fill the hot void; there was a sharp crack and grumble, like rolling thunder.
Tears stung her eyes, and her skin felt cold. Her horse jumped at the sound of the thunder, and she grabbed the reins tightly to control him.
Calm yourself, Kati. It's over, now. You've convinced everyone of that. All we've set out to do is finished, and there will be no more killing.
Mandughai! Why did you wait so long?
It was Yesugen and her followers who needed convincing, and the delay was theirs. You've given us all a bad fright, but that's good. Please, Kati, be calm. It's now time for us to meet, and I'm sending Yesugen to you personally to declare the end of this war and escort you here. You needn't be gentle with her. She has learned a hard lesson, and is quite terrified of you now. But she will come to you because she has courage.
Mandughai, we've done a terrible thing here today.
It may seem so, but it was necessary. We'll talk about it when you come to my ship. Remember who you are, Kati. You're Empress of Shanji. We are foreigners whose challenge you've met and turned back, and we stand on your ground. Yesugen must be reminded of that. Hurry, Kati. I've waited years for this meeting.
Yes, Mandughai. So have I. Kati sighed with relief.
A single rider had detached from the others, and was plunging rapidly down the blackened slopes, carrying a red pennant on a long staff. Kati sat where she was, but turned and gestured for her people to move back when she saw many of them moving towards her with apprehension. They were silent, still stunned by what they'd just seen.
They obeyed when the approaching rider was still a kilometer away, moving at a slow gallop, but they watched warily in close-packed ranks behind her.
Kati was also wary, now vulnerable to a laser burst from afar, or a sword thrust from the rider who approached her. She called on the light again to tinge her aura in deep blue, a reminder of the power that was only a thought away, waiting to touch a threat against her.
It was a woman, dressed in a simple black robe, and she held a sword across her chest. She was in her late twenties or thirties, and tall in the saddle, her face gaunt, with sharp features, highly arched nose and veined, domed forehead. She slowed to a trot as she drew near and smiled, showing fine white tusks thicker but shorter than Kati's. Kati returned the smile with her own toothy display, for The Change hadn't left her since that first laser burst by the sea.
"Yesugen," she growled.
Yesugen's eyes glared red as she came hesitantly to Kati's side within arm's reach, and she jammed the shaft of her plain, red pennant into the ground. Her fear was terrible, but it was not apparent to the eye. "You're undoubtedly pleased to see me," she said. "Do I call you Kati, or Mengnu, or just Empress, now that this day is over?"
"It makes no difference, now that we're one people."
"So you hope," said Yesugen. "I think that remains to be proven."
"I intend to do that. Mandughai says you'll take me to Her now."
"Yes, but first some ceremony for the people now ready to kill me if I make a sudden move against you. It's a token of your victory, and I give it willingly."
Yesugen pulled a scabbard from her saddle, slid it slowly over the blade she held across her chest, and then, with a slight bow, handed them over to Kati. "I am the vanquished," she said, and the words seemed to catch in her throat.
Kati took the sword, and bowed in return. "I accept this in thanks for the end of the killing. The only vanquished people I see are the ones who lie dead around us, and I have no pleasure in that. I see no victory in the death of even one soldier, yours or mine."
Yesugen laughed. "We're different indeed, you and I. Our people are different. Mine are bred for war. They're bred to kill, and be killed. The names of our dead will live forever on our monuments, and their families will be honored for their losses."
"My people will bury their dead, and forever wonder if there was good reason for the loss," said Kati.
"Ah, but you are the reason. You'll now be Empress."
Kati growled. "I didn't choose this tragic war to achieve it. That was done for me by others. I will never again ask my people to fight. I'll meet any threat in my own way."
Yesugen's smile disappeared, and she bowed. "You showed your way by the sea today, and I'm grateful for your restraint. There are things we must talk about, but now my mother is waiting."
Yesugen sullenly turned her horse, and Kati rode with her at a walk. "I warned you I'd do what was necessary, and I had no choice in the action I took against your people by the sea today. A thousand lasers against fifty isn't my idea of equal forces."
"I'm aware of it," said Yesugen, then paused. "I'm also quite impressed by what you did with your sword. You fight hard, and with skill. It reminds me we're related by blood."
Yesugen had made no effort to mask the feeling that showed it was a compliment, not just a thing said out of fear. They rode in silence for a moment until Yesugen said, "You know I'll someday be Empress of Tengri-Nayon and its worlds."
"Yes. Mandughai told me that."
Yesugen made a snorting sound. "Has She told you about the mess She leaves me to deal with when Her generous rule is finished?" The woman's fear seemed to be dissipating.
"No."
"Of course not. She is Mandughai, who will bring all the people together, even if it means the destruction of Her own planet. She sees unification as Her place in history, and not of the consequences I'll be left to deal with."
"Unity on Shanji is necessary for us to prosper," said Kati. "My people must work together to ease the lives of many, but of course that's not your concern."
Yesugen looked at Kati without hostility. "I speak of my own world, Meng-shi-jie, not Shanji. You'll have many problems to solve here, but a violent sun won't be one of them, or an overwhelming influx of people from a dying planet. Now is not the time, but there are things we must talk about. Our worlds are too close for us not to have a connection. We're all descended from the same people."
No condescension, only concerns, a discussion between neighboring worlds. "When? When can we talk?"
"As we have before, but after I've returned to Tengri-Nayon, perhaps much after. I'll call you from the gong-shi-jie, and we'll speak privately." Do you hear that, Mother? Privately! Yesugen smiled. "Enough for now. Her ship is just over this hill."
They climbed a blackened hill, and the mounted troops were still there: small, thick men on mountain horses, swords sheathed, watching them come with narrowed red eyes.
There was not one line of men along the hills, but many; a mass of soldiers numbering in the thousands. They all looked towards her, many craning their necks to see her face. A corridor appeared, horses pulled back to give them a wide passage through the ranks, and ahead was a broad plain with several shuttles there. The shuttles were twice the size of the ones she'd seen in the mountain, but similar in design, with ceramic bellies, a line of thick glass ports above open maws with loading ramps leading down to the ground. Sitting on eight landing pods, they looked like spiders ready to spring at her.
They rode to the nearest ship and up a ramp into a huge space the size of the warehouse she'd seen in the east, but broken into hundreds of cubicles separated by head-high dividers and filled with tangles of webbing for securing horses during takeoff and landing. They veered right to an open lift, and dismounted. The lift was large enough for four horses and rose slowly up into the ceiling, where monstrous fans turned lazily. Blank steel walls slid past them, and there were odors of horse, and hay, and oil. They passed two floors, passageways of metal latticework and red lights, the sounds of machinery humming, and stopped at the third. Red lights in a vaulted ceiling illuminated concentric semicircles of consoles, all attended by seated women and men with tusked faces and sharp features. All were dressed uniformly in form-fitting black uniforms. They followed Kati's blue aura with their eyes as Yesugen led her left to a short corridor ending at a door. She knocked softly on it.
"Come!"
The room seemed dark at first, indirect lighting around the edge of a low, domed ceiling. The walls were bare, and the room was filled with a single, round table surrounded by plush chairs.
One chair was occupied. A figure stood up there, a glorious aura of red and gold in the gloom, and walked around the table to where they stood. Kati's heart thumped, and her mouth was dry.
"Hello, Kati. There were moments when I thought our meeting wouldn't happen, but fortunately I was wrong."
Mandughai, the Emerald Empress of Tengri-Nayon and all its worlds, held out her hand in greeting, but suddenly Kati was stiff, arms at her sides, hands clenched.
She was a woman, and not so old as Kati had expected. She was dressed in a simple black robe like her daughter, her face more rounded beneath the domed forehead, tusks short, barely showing below her upper lip. Her skin was smooth, without wrinkles, her nose ordinary, without the high arch. It was both the Moshuguang and Tumatsin face of a woman perhaps in her early sixties, with the exception of one feature.
Her eyes. In the dim light of the room, they glowed —emerald green.
Mandughai held out her hand for a long moment. When Kati wouldn't take it, the woman frowned.
"Kati? I've spoken to you since you were a child. Don't you know me? Are you all right?" Her voice was soft.
"I have some wounds, but they'll heal," said Kati.
"Where? Yesugen, you knew she was injured? I didn't feel it!"
"The wound on her leg should leave a fine scar if she rubs salt into it," said Yesugen gruffly. "The rest are quite superficial."
Mandughai pulled out a chair, and beckoned to it. "Please sit, Kati, and rest yourself."
Kati sat down, back rigid, and clasped her hands in her lap. Mandughai sat next to her, and leaned forward so that their knees were nearly touching.
"What's wrong? Your aura is so blue, and I feel a repulsive force there. Why do you draw away from me? We've waited so long for this moment."
Kati swallowed hard. "I suppose I've changed. A year ago I was full of dreams of making the lives of my people easier, and today I'm responsible for their deaths."
Yesugen snorted behind her. "In war, there's always death. A good commander can only minimize it. You're not—"
"I understand," said Mandughai, waving a hand to silence her daughter. "What you've seen today is horrifying."
"You haven't seen what's out there," said Kati. "You haven't been there. I sat with a friend and watched him die; a gentle person, not a soldier. He was the Emperor's son."
"One less complication in your assumption of power," said Yesugen.
"He was my friend! Doesn't human life have any meaning for either one of you?"
Yesugen laughed. "What hypocrisy! I suppose you were thinking about the meaning of life when you ionized half of my southern battalion by the sea! You came close to doing the same thing to the rest of our army, and the ships that brought us here. You're certainly no pacifist; your words don't match your deeds!"
Mandughai raised an eyebrow. "She has a point, Kati. You did what you felt necessary to defend your people. I did what I felt necessary to bring them together. We've both accomplished our objectives, but not without cost. I've ruled for over forty years, and yours is just beginning. You'll see that everything you strive to do will have a cost, and you'll be constantly deciding how much you're willing to pay to meet your goals. The price can be money, human misery, death, or the loss of friendships, even loved ones. People will oppose you, undermine you, work behind your back to destroy your visions, and much of the time you'll be alone. If you're lucky, a few will be close to you, and even they will be potentially traitorous. The life of an Empress is hard and lonely, often dangerous. Examine yourself, Kati, right now, and ask whether or not you're ready for it."
Her words had been quick, and firm, like the admonition of a mother. Mandughai leaned back in her chair, waiting for an answer. Her eyes darted to Yesugen, who stood right behind Kati. Perhaps she'd been talking to both of them. Veins throbbed at her temples, and were suddenly prominent on the great dome of her forehead. She cupped her chin in one hand, and the glow of her eyes intensified.
"Well?"
Still the superior in this group of three, but only by experience, for her physical powers didn't approach Kati's. All the conversations in the gong-shi-jie, the careful training, the patience and encouragement of a mother to a daughter was clear in Kati's memory.
"There were things you said you'd have me do when I was a woman. Have I done them, Mandughai?"
"Yes, you have, and more. More than I hoped for. You call me Mandughai, the Empress, but it's you who are the Empress of Light, the closest thing to the Mei-lei-gong we've sought for so long. You're a miracle, Kati. I don't want to lose you, not after the sacrifices that have been made to put you on the throne here."
Kati shook her head. "There was more to it than that. My people have sacrificed their lives to solve political problems between you and Yesugen and whoever else has seen Shanji as a world to be conquered. I don't care about your political problems, Mandughai. I've done things for you, but now there are things I want to do for my people, and I want to be free to do them without threat from you or Yesugen."
Mandughai glanced at Yesugen, and smiled. "You've always been free, Kati. When you will it, it will happen. We cannot stop you, but I ask for the privilege to discuss things with you. You still have much to learn. I hope you'll listen to me and to your father, but all decisions will be yours to make."
"Mengmoshu! Does he know I'm safe?"
"Yes, dear. He's on his way here right now."
"I didn't feel him," said Kati.
"Be glad for that. He was frantic with worry over you. He wouldn't show it when there was danger, for fear of distracting you."
Kati sighed. "Then I'll bring the people together in making the necessary reforms on Shanji without fear of another war with you?"
Mandughai nodded. "Our unfortunate war is ended, and there will be peace between us." Her eyes again moved towards Yesugen when she said it.
"There's more, mother," said Yesugen. "Shanji cannot remain isolated as it has." She stepped over to stand behind her mother, eyes red. "There must be tangible relations between our worlds, for mutual benefit."
"What kind of relations?" asked Kati.
"Trade, exchange of technology, even people with special skills, that sort of thing."
Mandughai watched Kati for a reaction, and smiled. "We can talk later about this, but there is opportunity for you, Kati. With the calming of Tengri-Nayon, we're emerging from our buried cities to build on the surface. We'll have great need for building materials and new seed varieties for surface crops. You have that, but you've lost your space-faring capabilities for delivery. I intend to leave two shuttles here for you when we depart. They should give you a new start in developing interplanetary and interstellar trade. You'll find we've come a long way since the ships the Moshuguang tend in the mountain."
"That's most generous of you, Mandughai. Trade is an important part of my program." Kati tried hard not to show her excitement, but her voice betrayed it, and so did her aura.
"There are other things as well, but they can wait. I also want to talk to your father. Yesugen, could you see if our other guests are ready to come in? They have just arrived."
Yesugen frowned. "Yes, mother, but Kati and I must talk, soon."
"Of course, dear. In private."
Yesugen pressed her lips tightly together, then turned abruptly, and marched out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Mandughai seemed to listen for something for a moment, then suddenly beamed, leaning close and taking Kati's clenched hands in her own.
"Kati," she said softly. "At last I can touch you, see you face-to-face as a person, not an image. All these years with you, and here you are, a woman, an empress of both this world and the place of creation. Who could know that by simply looking at you?"
Gently, she coaxed Kati's rigid fingers to relax, folding them out, and stroking the palm of one hand with a thumb. She looked into Kati's eyes and said, "Ah, that's what I want, not the red of wariness and suspicion, but the green that links you to our common ancestors. My blood is in you, Kati. If only you could have been my own child. You're a comfort to this old woman."
Kati's heart softened from the touch on her hand. "You're not so old," she murmured. "Your hands are soft, and smooth."
"Yours are hard, and calloused," said Mandughai, "but now we touch, and are real to each other, not phantom images or thoughts. We only have a little time, and it may be we'll never see each other in person again. Kati, I want to hold you for just a moment, if you'll let me. Please?"
Mandughai stood up, and Kati with her, wincing from a stab of pain in her leg. After sitting rigid, feet flat on the floor, her leg had begun to throb fiercely. Mandughai took a short step and put her arms around Kati, pressing against her with surprising strength, her mouth against Kati's ear, whispering to her.
"My dear little girl, my Tumatsin, I'll always be with you, until my last breath. Whenever you call, I'll be there, not as the empress of your childhood, but as the woman who holds you like her own daughter. From now on, I'm not Mandughai to you, but Abagai, the woman."
"Abagai," said Kati softly. Her hands had moved of their own will, and now rested lightly on Abagai's back.
"Call me, and seek the advice of your father as you grow in experience. He loves you with a devotion I'd not thought possible for him."
"I will, Mandu—Abagai. I'll always seek advice, and listen to it."
Abagai squeezed her gently, then released her and held her by the shoulders. "There is another you'll listen to, a man who also loves you and waits outside now with great impatience."
"Huomeng! He's here?"
Abagai laughed. "Your eyes glow wonderfully at the sound of his name, and your spirit softens with your love for him. For some moments, when you first arrived, I felt and saw a hardness in you that frightened me, but now it's gone. Don't allow your spirit to become hard, Kati. The love and compassion within you can yield a power greater than what you bring from the gong-shi-jie."
Kati nodded solemnly, for now there were tears in Abagai's eyes. Kati's heart seemed to crack, and she embraced Abagai tightly, their cheeks pressed together. "I've had three mothers in my life, not one. All have been good to me, but at times I've misunderstood them."
Abagai struggled from her grasp, eyes filled with tears as the door opened without warning, and Yesugen was standing there.
"They've arrived, mother. Should I bring them in now?"
"Yes, please," said Abagai sharply.
Yesugen gave Kati a sour look, but closed the door immediately, and went away.
Abagai put an arm around Kati, and walked her slowly towards the door. "I'll try to find more time for us before I leave, but there's something I must say while my daughter is distracted. Beware of Yesugen, Kati. For the moment, she is subdued by her fear of what you can do, but it won't last. She's also jealous of you, and I must take the blame for that. Deal cautiously with her when she comes to power. We have different agendas, and if she had her way now, she'd round up all the many emigrants from Lan-Sui, our dying inner planet, and move them here to be rid of them. She's hard inside, and militant like her late father. She believes in force, not persuasion; she will not respect your compassion, but only the power you can wield. Remember that."
"I will," said Kati. Her leg was throbbing horribly now, as if nerves there had suddenly awakened after being cut by the sword. "How long before she takes your place?"
Abagai opened the door, and Kati fought a limp as they went to the elevator.
"Some years, yet, without mischief on her part. Most of the people are still behind me. Yesugen's support has come from her field commanders, and the governor of Lan-Sui. Still, it'll be all too soon, and then there will be you and Yesugen to finish what I've tried to begin. I want all the people united, Kati, not just here, or on the worlds around my violent star. Our suns are a pair, Kati; they are one system. I want all our people united, and what you do on Shanji is only the beginning. You are the one to do it, not Yesugen. You or your successors; perhaps your own children."
They reached the elevator, and Abagai embraced her again. "Remember I'm ready to come to you when you want me. And remember this day, but don't dwell on it. Use love, patience and persuasion when you can, but don't forget the powers you have. Build on them, and be ready to use them as you did today, if necessary. You've seen horror today, and I hope you'll someday forgive me for forcing this war. I hope you'll forgive yourself if you ever have to do battle again. Dear Kati, I wish you well!"
Abagai hugged her fiercely as the elevator door opened. Kati kissed her softly on the cheek, and said, "You're still Mandughai to me. We will not be apart until the breath is gone from both of us."
Kati stepped into the elevator, but Abagai's back was to her as the doors closed. She felt sadness at leaving, was determined to see Abagai again before she left, and then there would always be those times in the gong-shi-jie. She felt pain, from her leg. She checked it, saw no bleeding, only burned flesh in and around the deep cut. She moved her hand over it, taking heat from the air, but it only hurt worse.
When she stepped out of the elevator she was limping and saw Mengmoshu and Juimoshu approaching, Yesugen in the lead. Juimoshu smiled, but her father looked grim. He took her by the shoulders, but did not embrace her, not in front of Yesugen. She felt him nearly bursting with the urge to do it anyway, even if it destroyed the image others had of him.
"There's blood all over you!" he said gruffly.
She smiled, reached over to touch a hand on her shoulder. "My leg is hurting badly now. I think there's dirt in the wound."
"Mengyao is with the flyer. He'll take you right back for treatment. We'll talk tonight."
Juimoshu ran a hand down Kati's arm as she passed silently by her, Yesugen waiting impatiently in the elevator, and then the doors were closed, she was hobbling alone to the loading ramp and painfully down it. She saw Mengyao standing near a flyer. Grinning, he raised a fist at her. She was filthy, bloody, and exhausted. Perhaps he found her appearance amusing.
Movement from her right, a man intercepting her at the base of the ramp. It was Huomeng, and tears came to her eyes at the sight of him.
Huomeng looked her up and down, then held out his arms.
"It looks to me as if you've had another one of your terrible days," he said.
Kati limped to him, and threw herself into his arms.
Mengyao finally came over to separate them, check Kati's wound and get them into the flyer. He lifted off gently as two more shuttles came in to land beyond the others. Soldiers of Mandughai were already loading their horses.
They circled the valley, part of the field of battle still littered with the dead, the rest scorched black by Kati's purple light. The ranks of Moshuguang, Hansui and Tumatsin now sat in clusters where they'd been when she'd left them. Mengyao flew low, wiggling the stubby wings of the craft, and Kati waved to the men through the clear canopy. Mouths opened in cheers she couldn't hear over the whine of the flyer, and a thousand swords were raised.
They lifted up, up, far above the dome of the city, and began settling down towards it. Huomeng's arm was around her, her head on his shoulder, and for a moment she could see the eastern valley, the tunnel into the mountain, the three peaks, and far beyond it the shimmering sea in the yellow light of Tengri-Khan.
Her home. Her place. Shanji.