01-Wolf of the Steppes by Harold Lamb

Author:Harold Lamb [Lamb, Harold]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Central, Action & Adventure, Fantasy, Steppes - Asia, Cossacks, Steppes, Asia, General, Science Fiction, Adventure Fiction, Historical Fiction, Central - History - 16th Century, Fiction, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780803280489
Publisher: Bison Books
Published: 2006-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

II

The setting sun that day lighted the encampment of the Jun-gar Tatars by the Tula River, not far from Lake Baikal. Sunset was the signal for gathering the kurultai council. But no nacars were needed to summon the khans. For the encampment was small, and the council consisted of a scant half-dozen of the lords of Tatary—a remnant of the warriors who had held dominion over China, Tibet, Sogdiana, and Persia for centuries.

The council assembled in the pavilion of the Kha Khan, or White Khan, of the Jun-gar. This was a felt-covered tent erected on a large wagon. As the warriors entered they seated themselves, after greeting the Kha Khan, on bearskins ranged around the fire. Behind them the walls of the pavilion were hung with weapons and trophies of their recent victory—the last of its kind—over the Chinese at Shankiang.

Opposite the entrance to the tent sat the Kha Khan, a whitehaired Cossack, keen-eyed and scarred of face, known to his enemies as the Wolf. Over Khlit's knees lay the curved sword of Kaidu which had earned him his right to leadership of the khans.

On Khlit's left sat Chepé Buga, a swarthy veteran of fifty battles, and a man quick of wit with tongue or sword.

On the right of the Kha Khan was Berang, the young khan of the Ordu horde. The khans of the Hoshot and Torgot tribes completed the circle. Opposite Khlit sat Lhon Otai, a shaman and leader of the priest-conjurers. By the entrance lounged the giant figure of Chagan, sword-bearer of the Kha Khan.

Grim men they were, hard riders and fighters. With the Kallmarks, their powerful neighbors, they formed the last of the race of Genghis Khan, conqueror of Asia. But today their faces were sullen and downcast. Chepé Buga puffed silently at his pipe, while Berang fumbled uneasily with his sword.

“We are like a herd of horned cattle, Khlit, lord,” spoke Chepé Buga at length, twisting his mustache, “with flocks of sheep pressing in on our pasture on all sides. Hey, soon there will not be room on the Tatar steppe for our horses' dung!”

“Aye, that is true,” nodded Berang. “The tidings we have received today are that the Kallmarks are driving their herds over our southwest boundaries, near Khamil. And there are many horsemen in the Kallmark horde. Now they are quarrelsome, being more numerous than we are.”

“The Mings and Manchus,” added another khan, “have driven us from the dorok graves of our fathers by the great desert of Gobi, to the river Kerulon and the Khantai Khan Mountains. They have killed many of us.”

“We can go no further north, Khlit, lord,” agreed Chepé Buga moodily, “for the frozen rivers of Baikal are near us, and the cattle cannot graze in the snow.”

Khlit smoked his black pipe silently, scanning the faces of his companions shrewdly. He understood their anger. The Tatar of the steppe must have freedom to rove, without tie of home or god; no intruder can take their lands. They looked to him for protection of their boundaries.

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