Chapter 10 - THE ARMY MARCHES WEST

1

"Uncle Ouyang, you're too kind." There was a tinge of sadness to her tone, and none of the satisfaction Viper had been anticipating. "Guo Jing has fallen for your ploy and vowed to kill my father, even if it costs him his life, severing all ties…" She trailed off, struggling to maintain her composure. "When you save Papa tomorrow … Were your nephew still with us … our troth-plight…" A heavy sigh, conveying all that she was unable to put into words.

Why does she bring up my boy and that business again? Viper Ouyang's natural suspicion sprang into life.

Lotus turned to the Qu girl. "Hey, your nice brother treats you very well, doesn't he?"

"Yes! He's taking me home. I didn't like the island. I want to go home!"

"Why do you want to go home? It's haunted. Someone died there."

The girl gasped and screamed. "Ghost! A ghost in my home! I don't want to go back!"

"Who killed that man?"

"I saw nice brother—"

Clink, clink, something clattered to the floor.

"Why did you try to hurt her, Your Highness? Why won't you let her speak?"

"The idiot girl talks nonsense!" Yang Kang squawked.

"You know this grandpa wants to hear your story," Lotus cajoled.

"No, I'm not talking. Nice brother doesn't want me to."

"There's a good girl," Yang Kang said in a honeyed tone. "Lie down now and sleep. If you open your mouth and say even one word, I'll tell the ghost to come and eat you alive!"

Cowering, the Qu girl muttered her assent and wriggled back into her bedding, pulling the blanket over her head.

"Hey, if you won't talk to me, I'll get Grandpa to drag you back," Lotus said darkly.

"No! No!" the girl yelled through the coverlet.

"Then tell me who the nice brother killed in your home."

The specificity of her demand left everyone open-mouthed.

Yang Kang pooled his strength in his right hand, ready to plunge his fingers through the Qu girl's skull with the Nine Yin Skeleton Claw if she breathed a word of what he had done in Ox Village. He could not allow Viper Ouyang to learn the truth.

I should've got rid of her on Peach Blossom Island. He rued his soft-heartedness. I thought there were just the four of us at the inn—me, Mercy and the young couple. This half-wit must have been hiding somewhere.

Everyone waited for the Qu girl's answer with bated breath. Ke Zhen'e scarcely dared to inhale. Time passed, and soft breathing, then snores, began to fill the silence.

She's fallen asleep! Yang Kang let out a sigh of relief, his palm sweaty from the tension. She's a threat to me as long as she lives, he said to himself as he stole a glance at Viper Ouyang. The Martial Great was sitting with his eyes closed. Moonlight, reaching through the window, bathed one side of his face in its cool wash. He looked detached, unconcerned by the exchange that had just taken place.

Since the Qu girl was deep in slumber, the men settled down with their makeshift bedding and closed their eyes, drifting off.

Then the Qu girl cried out in a drowsy haze—"Ow! Who pinched me?"—and jumped up.

"A ghoul!" Lotus shrieked. "A ghoul with broken legs! It's you! You killed him. He's coming to take your life!"

"No! Not me!" the Qu girl screeched. "Nice brother—"

A hiss then a thump. Yang Kang's attempt to dig his fingers into the Qu girl's crown was forestalled by Lotus. She had flipped his legs out from under him with the Dog-Beating Cane.

Hector Sha and his companions scrambled to their sleepy feet and surrounded Lotus.

She took no notice, pointing at the temple gate. "Come. Your killer's here."

The Qu girl followed Lotus's finger, but could see nothing in the dark. Still, the thought that there could be a ghost lurking nearby was enough to terrorize her. She pulled Lotus's sleeve and cried, "Don't come for my life. It wasn't me! It was the nice brother. He killed you with his spearhead. I saw it. I was hiding in the kitchen. I saw everything … Legless ghoul, don't, don't come for me!"

It had never occurred to Viper Ouyang that Yang Kang might be his son's murderer, yet he knew the Qu girl was not clever enough to lie. He let out a shrill laugh of grief and wrath.

"Your Highness, my nephew deserved his fate." He glared at Yang Kang. "You did well in killing him. My congratulations!"

His words pierced the ears of all within hearing, like a thousand tiny needles. They tried in vain to stop their bodies from shuddering and their teeth from chattering. Even the crows in the pagoda were roused by his voice, croaking and flapping their wings in fear. Some took to the sky in fright.

Yang Kang knew that, if he stayed put, he faced certain death. He cast his eyes around the main hall, searching for an escape route.

Wanyan Honglie began pleading with the Venom when the crows had calmed down enough for him to be heard. "This girl is not of her right mind. I trust Master Ouyang does not believe her words. It was I who invited your nephew to join my enterprise, and both myself and my son came to rely on his wisdom and knowledge. Why would we wish harm upon him?"

Viper had been sitting on the floor, but, with one flex of his toes, his whole person flew up into the air. Then, without straightening his body, he leaped across and was suddenly sitting next to the Qu girl in the same cross-legged posture. He grabbed the girl by the arm.

"Why did he kill my nephew? Tell me!"

"I didn't kill him. Don't come after me!" She thrashed around, but she could not free herself from the Venom's iron grip.

"Pa! Pa!" she wailed.

Viper hissed his question again and again, to the point where the Qu girl ceased to cry and simply stared blankly.

"Hey, don't be afraid," Lotus cooed. "Grandpa just wants to give you some cake."

Viper fumbled in his robe at this reminder—fear would only make her clam up—and pulled out a mantou. He let go of her arm and stuffed the cold bun into her hand. "Here! Cake!" A grim approximation of a smile.

The Qu girl clung to the bread, still terrified. "Grandpa, it hurts!"

"I won't do that again. You're a good girl." Viper spoke in a gentle voice that was almost laughably out of character.

"That day, the sir with the broken legs was holding a girl in his arms, wasn't he? Was she pretty?" Lotus asked.

"Very! Where is she now?"

"You don't know who she is, do you?"

The Qu girl clapped and smiled smugly. "I do! I do! She's the lady-wife of my nice brother."

This was all the confirmation Viper Ouyang needed. He had always known of his boy's fondness for women, and was not surprised that a woman was the cause of his downfall. And yet one thing nagged at him. Even though Gallant had lost the use of his legs, he was still the superior fighter of the two. Yang Kang did not have the skill to cause him harm. How had it happened? He snapped around to face Yang Kang. "My nephew gave offense to the young Consort, and for that he deserved a thousand deaths."

"No … no … it wasn't me…"

"Who, then?"

Viper's roar scattered Yang Kang's wits and left him limp and weak. Drenched in sweat, he could not string two words together.

"The Heretic gave the map of Peach Blossom Island to my nephew," the Venom went on. "I asked how it came into your possession, and you told me you were good friends and that you'd borrowed it to learn about the Five Elements and the Eight Trigrams. I must say, I was not entirely convinced at the time, and now I know why. You killed him and took it from him, didn't you?"

Terror had reduced Yang Kang to a mute, shivering wreck.

"Uncle Ouyang, you mustn't blame His Highness for his cruelty, or your nephew for his wanton ways. You only have your kung fu to blame," Lotus said with a sigh.

"What do you mean?"

"When I was in Ox Village, I heard an exchange between a man and a woman. I haven't been able to place the speakers, until now."

"Huh?" Viper had not the faintest idea what she was talking about.

"Let me repeat what I heard word for word. I wasn't able to see their faces, so I didn't know who they were. The man said, 'They saw me kill Gallant Ouyang. What if they tell someone?' And the woman replied, 'Real men are brave and get things done. You shouldn't have killed him if you were going to worry so much…'" Lotus let the words hang in the air.

"She's right," Viper said a beat later, realizing that she was not going to continue. "What did he say to that?"

Forced to listen to his own words from Lotus's lips, Yang Kang could barely contain his panic. The moon, reaching in through the doorway, was now shining on the floor before the statue of General Wang the Iron Spear. He skirted around its sheen and tiptoed into position behind Lotus.

"He said, 'I have another idea. I could make his uncle my master. The idea first came to me a while ago. But his school of martial arts has a very strict rule: only one student per generation. Now that his disciple is dead, however, he might consider taking me on.'"

Lotus had not said outright who the speaker was, but, from her tone and accent, it had to be Yang Kang—a mix of northern and southern sounds: that of Daxing in Zhongdu, where he grew up, and the melody of Lin'an, where his mother Charity Bao was born.

Chuckling, Viper turned to where Yang Kang had been sitting, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A smack sounded, followed by a howl of pain.

Yang Kang, standing in the moonlight, his right hand bloody, his face drained of all color.

When Lotus began to mimic his way of speaking, he knew he had to silence her at all costs. He leaped up and plunged his talons down at her head. Needless to say, Lotus had been expecting this very reaction and had been on her guard, her senses attuned to the slightest change in the air. The instant she sensed him above her head, she sheered off to the right. His fingers dug instead into her left shoulder, and were pierced all the way through by the prickles of the Hedgehog Chainmail. The pain had almost knocked him out cold.

In the gloom of the main hall, no one was sure what had happened. They only knew that Yang Kang was hurt. Whether by Lotus Huang or Viper Ouyang, they could not tell, but they all decided it was best to keep quiet, in case the Martial Great was responsible. All but Wanyan Honglie, who rushed up to steady his son.

"Kang, what happened? Where are you hurt?" He pulled out his saber and put it in his son's hand. He knew Viper Ouyang would not let his nephew's murder pass, but he had numbers on his side—perhaps he and his son still had a chance.

"I'm fine," Yang Kang replied, clenching his teeth against the pain as he closed his fingers around the saber's hilt. It slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. He stooped to pick it up, only to find his arm hanging stiff and unresponsive. He pinched the back of his hand. Nothing. He could feel nothing on one side of his body.

He looked up at Lotus. "You—you poisoned me!"

Tiger Peng and his fellows had instinctively held back, daunted by the idea of standing in opposition to Viper Ouyang. Yet, having considered the situation, they all came to the conclusion that, as a prince of the Great Jin Empire, Wanyan Honglie would have the power and resources to resolve the unfortunate incident involving Gallant Ouyang, and they should really be seen acting on the young Prince's behalf. So, some of them rushed to Yang Kang's side with reassuring words, while the others bullied Lotus for the antidote, all making sure to give Viper Ouyang a wide berth.

"The Hedgehog Chainmail has never been laced with poison," Lotus shot back. "And, considering the company we are in, there are others who are more keen on seeing the back of you than I am."

"I … I … can't move!" Yang Kang's knees gave way and his body drooped. An animalistic growl rumbled in his throat.

Lotus could not fathom how her Hedgehog Chainmail could have elicited such a reaction. And yet there was no mistaking the surprise on Viper's face. By now, Yang Kang's features were twisted by merriment rather than pain. His spine-chilling countenance was accentuated by the silvery moonbeams. She had seen that same grotesque expression once before.

"It must have been Uncle Ouyang…" she said.

"Well, it does look like the venom of my serpent." There was a note of astonishment in his voice. "I was thinking of giving him a taste of the very same poison, so I must thank you for doing the hard work, young lady. Tell me, how did you get hold of it?"

"You're the poisoner, not me, but you might not be aware of it."

"How can that be?"

"Uncle Ouyang, remember your bet with the Hoary Urchin? You fed your serpent's venom to one shark. When a second shark ate the poisoned carcass, it too succumbed to the toxin. When a third shark came to feast on the second victim, it fell prey to the same fate. This bane you've created can spread its lethal effects without losing any of its power. Am I right?"

"Why else do you think I am called the Venom of the West?"

"Indeed, and Woodcutter Nan was the first shark."

Yang Kang was in a frenzy, rolling back and forth on the floor. Graybeard Liang wanted to restrain the young man, but he was flinging himself about so wildly that no one could get close.

Viper pondered her words, his brow furrowed. "Can you elaborate?"

"You said you set your serpent on Woodcutter Nan, and, when we found him on Peach Blossom Island, he punched me. On my left shoulder. His poisoned blood was left on the prickles of my Hedgehog Chainmail, and so the steel shirt became the second shark. Just now, when His Highness struck me, by some divine justice, he was pricked by the very spikes stained with Woodcutter Nan's blood. So, he's is the third shark."

A chill passed through the temple. The hardened martial men grew ever more wary of Viper Ouyang, having witnessed the horrifying effects of the venom. They also noted how fast retribution came—it was just days since Yang Kang had plotted to butcher five of the Freaks, and now he was tainted with Woodcutter Nan's contaminated blood …

Wanyan Honglie approached Viper Ouyang and fell to his knees. "Master Ouyang, please spare my son's life. I shall be forever in your debt."

Though Yang Kang was no kin of blood, the boy had called him Papa all his life, and Wanyan Honglie had doted on him, treating him as his own issue. He had been so captivated by Charity Bao that his love extended to those dear to her.

"Are you saying your son's life is worth more than my nephew's?" Viper cackled, sweeping his eyes over the Prince's entourage. "If any of the heroes gathered here disagree with me, let them make themselves known."

Silence. Just then, Yang Kang vaulted up from the temple floor and—pang—punched Graybeard Liang, sending the old man flying in a somersault.

Wanyan Honglie had also climbed to his feet. "We leave for Lin'an now. We will find the best physician for the young Prince."

"Do you think a doctor—even the very best—could find a cure for my poison? Do you think a medical man would risk his life to thwart my will?"

"Help His Highness!" Wanyan Honglie ordered his guards.

Yang Kang hopped away from the hands reaching for him, jumping so high that he almost hit the rafter above. He jabbed his finger at Wanyan Honglie. "You're not my father. You killed my mother. Now you want to kill me."

The Jin Prince recoiled, stumbling several steps back.

"Your Highness, focus your mind!" Hector Sha cried, striding up to take Yang Kang by the arms.

The young man, with faster reflexes than anyone knew he possessed, flipped his right hand into a backhand hook and seized Sha's left wrist, digging his nails deep into the exposed arm. Stunned by the uncalled-for violence, the Dragon King's only thought was to free himself from Yang Kang's grip. Until the pain struck him. A numbing itch began to spread across his skin.

"The fourth shark."

Tiger Peng, a skilled user of poison himself, caught on to Lotus's meaning. He pulled his saber free from his belt and—sha!—hacked off his good friend's left arm.

Browbeater Hou lunged at Tiger Peng. "I'll kill you!"

"Stop! He saved me!" Hector Sha yelled at his martial brother.

Yang Kang's mind was completely gone now, leaving him a pointing, striking, kicking, biting, maddened thing. Not one man dared approach him after what had happened to Hector Sha. Shrieking, they all fled. The commotion woke the crows once more, and they circled the pagoda, casting ominous shadows on the clearing outside the temple, their caws clashing with Yang Kang's growls.

Wanyan Honglie was ushered into the open by his guards, though they could not prevent him from looking back and calling for his son. "Kang! Kang!"

Somehow, his cries managed to get through to the young man. "Father! Father!" he wailed as he ran toward the Jin Prince.

Overjoyed by the lucid response, Wanyan Honglie folded his arms around his boy. "Son, are you feeling better?"

A gnarled face and snapping white teeth answered his question. Terrified, Wanyan Honglie flung his son away from him and Yang Kang toppled to the ground, all strength drained from his body. There, he flailed on his back, unable to get up again. Wanyan Honglie could not bear to watch his son suffer any longer. He leaped on his horse and galloped into the night, his retinue straggling behind him.

Viper and Lotus watched Yang Kang writhing on the ground, each lost in their own thoughts. Before long, a final spasm seized the young man and then he was still.

It was Viper who broke the silence. "It's almost dawn. Let's see how your father fares."

"What's there to see? He must be back on Peach Blossom Island by now."

It took a moment for the Venom to collect himself. The smirk returned to his face. "So, the little wench has been lying all along."

"Well, only at first. Do you honestly think those stinking Quanzhen Taoists could trap my papa? Would you have let me question the Qu girl if I hadn't mentioned the Nine Yin Manual?"

Ke Zhen'e now had a new admiration for Lotus. He almost felt protective of her, and he prayed that she would come up with a clever ploy to get away from Viper Ouyang.

"Your lies were rooted in truth, or else I would never have fallen for them. Now, recite for me your father's translation of the final passage in the Manual—every last word."

"What if I don't remember it?"

"It'd be a shame if my snake were to bite a pretty girl like you."

Lotus had been prepared to die when she stepped out from the statue, and yet, having witnessed Yang Kang's agonies, she was not so certain anymore.

He might not let me go, even after I've told him everything Reverend Sole Light has shared with us, she realized, but she had no better plan right now than trying to string him along for as long as possible.

"If you recite the original, it may remind me of the translation. Give me the first line."

"Don't try to hoodwink me. Who on earth can remember such gibberish?"

Hang on … If he can't remember that passage, then he must value the manuscript as highly as his own life, she concluded. Yes, I can use that to my advantage.

"In that case, read it out and I'll translate it for you."

Viper Ouyang went back inside the temple and lit a candle stump from the altarpiece. Then he produced a parcel, carefully wrapped in three layers of oilpaper, from the inside pocket of his shirt, eager to at last make sense of the Manual's final pages.

Lotus suppressed a giggle. Look how he treasures the nonsense Guo Jing put down for him!

Viper read aloud: "Mahaparas gatekras … habhaya kazidada sagalopa."

"Herein lies the key to the Manual: make good use of the observation of appearance in order to channel twelve kinds of suspiration."

Excited, the Venom continued, "Jaramanas haho."

"Able to overcome a multitude of maladies, gradually enter the mystic marvel."

"Siddhabhasita aneka."

Lotus pondered for a few moments, then shook her head. "That's not right. You've got it wrong."

"That's how it's written down."

"But it makes no sense…" She rested her chin in her hand, as though deep in thought.

Impatience screamed inside the Venom, but he dared not interrupt her.

At length, she said, "Guo Jing must have got it wrong. Can I see?"

He handed the manuscript over obediently. She took the pages and grabbed the candle to take a better look in its flickering light. Without warning, she jumped back a dozen paces, letting the flame lick close to the pages.

"Uncle Ouyang, this is fake!"

"Oi! What are you doing? Give it back!"

"Do you want to take the Manual or take my life?" She grinned, threatening to set fire to his treasure.

"What am I to do with your life? Give it back!" he snapped, ready to pounce on her and take the papers by force.

"Stay where you are!" She held the pages even closer to the flame. "One tiny movement and I'll burn them all!"

"Huh! I can't outwit you, you little imp. Put it down and go!"

"As a Martial Great, you'll honor your word, won't you?"

"I said, put it down and go," he repeated darkly.

Lotus set the Manual and the candle on the floor with a chuckle. "Sorry, Uncle Ouyang." With the Dog Beater in her hand, she turned to leave.

Though entirely unscrupulous, Viper did care deeply about losing face, so he stuck to his word and let her go. But, as she walked out of the temple's main hall, he leaped up and swung a vicious backhand. Pang! The statue of Wang Yanzhang the Iron Spear broke in half.

"Blind Bat, come out!"

Lotus whipped around and saw Ke Zhen'e jump out, twirling the spear shaft in an arc of protection. She realized her oversight. Anyone with the Venom's martial abilities would have heard Master Ke's breathing. He had not mentioned it because the Freak was too minor an opponent to be worthy of the trouble. She rushed back and reached out with the Dog-Beating Cane in Ke's defense.

"Uncle Ouyang, I'm staying, let him go."

"No, Lotus, go!" Ke cried. "Find Guo Jing. Tell him to avenge his shifus."

"He won't listen to me, Master Ke. If you won't go, Papa and I will forever be wronged. Tell Guo Jing, I don't blame him. Tell him, don't dwell on the past."

But how could Ke Zhen'e let her risk her life a second time to save his? He stood his ground.

It was Viper Ouyang's turn to show impatience. "Wench, I agreed to let you go. Why did you come back?"

"I've decided I prefer your company, Uncle Ouyang. Let's be rid of this blind old fool. I'll stay with you, but you mustn't hurt him."

Viper was pleased by Lotus's suggestion, since he could not care less whether Ke Zhen'e lived or died. He strode forward and grabbed the front of the Freak's robe. Ke swung the spear shaft sideways to protect himself. Viper pushed back, his force numbing Ke's arms as a dull pain gripped the Freak's chest. With a clang, the spear shot upward through the roof.

Ke Zhen'e jumped back, but, before his feet touched firm ground, he felt his collar tighten and his body was lifted once more into the air. But he had been in enough fights to know this was not the time to panic. With a flick of his left wrist, he let fly with two poisoned devilnuts aimed straight at the Venom's face.

Viper had not imagined the Freak would have the skill to retaliate so effectively from such a compromised position. The projectiles were shooting toward him at great speed. At such close proximity, the only way he could dodge them was to bend backward. He used the momentum generated by his evasive maneuver to flip the blind man overhead and hurl him away, sending him through the temple doors. In fact, he was now flying faster than his own secret weapons, which had sailed just above Viper Ouyang's head.

"Aiyoo!" Lotus gasped. Any moment now, the poisoned darts would hit Ke Zhen'e.

Somehow, the Freak twisted his body midair and caught the two devilnuts in his palm. He could indeed see better with his ears than most people can with their eyes.

Viper applauded his display. "Impressive. I'll let you go, this time, Blind Bat."

Ke Zhen'e landed on his feet, but gave no response.

"Master Ke, Uncle Ouyang is going to bow to me, so I'll be his shifu and teach him from the Nine Yin Manual. Why are you dallying? Do you want to call me Shifu too?"

Ke was still standing, dazed, on the spot. He knew, despite her jovial tone, what grave danger she was in. He could not desert her.

But then, he heard Viper's voice. "The sky is light. Let's go." The Martial Great took Lotus's hand and pulled her along after him.

"Master Ke, remember what I wrote on your palm." Lotus's fading voice drifted back to him, already several zhang from the temple.

Flocks of crows rushed past Ke Zhen'e. The sound of them pecking and squawking over Yang Kang's body jolted him out of his stupor. He hopped onto the temple roof and groped around for the iron spear shaft.

Where should this blind old fool go? he asked himself when he had found his makeshift weapon.

Before he could come up with an answer, a wave of desperate screeching assaulted his ears, followed by a scramble of flapping wings. Then, thud, thud, thud, crows were dropping out of the air, one after another. The first group that had been feasting on Yang Kang's remains were now dead. Killed by Viper Ouyang's poison.

The Freak let out a long sigh and jumped down from the slanting tiles. He would head north, for now.

2

Ke Zhen'e had been on the road for three days when he picked out the caws of the condors. His disciple must be nearby.

"Guo Jing, my boy!" he called. "Guo Jing!"

Soon, the clatter of hooves echoed in the empty wilderness.

"Shifu!" Guo Jing cried, elated to see his Master unharmed. Almost a week had passed since they were separated in the skirmish with the Song army, near the Tower of Mist and Rain, in Jiaxing. The young man leaped from the saddle before Ulaan had come to a stop. Just as he was about to embrace his mentor, he felt a box on the ear. And then another.

Guo Jing's arms fell slack at his sides. He made no move to dodge the blows, letting his shifu hit him again and again. The next thing he knew, Ke was slapping himself on the face too.

"Shifu?" he asked, mystified by his teacher's actions.

"You are a young fool and I am an old idiot!" Ke Zhen'e struck Guo Jing and himself a dozen more times, until their cheeks were red and swollen. Then he cursed their stupidity once more, before recounting in detail how, in the Iron Spear Temple, Lotus had staked her life on revealing the truth behind the massacre on Peach Blossom Island.

Guo Jing tried to wrap his mind around the many twists and turns in his shifu's story, while confronting a barrage of emotions—joy, shock, sorrow, shame, remorse.

I have sorely wronged Lotus, he said to himself.

"Our lives should be forfeit. How could we be so gullible?" Ke Zhen'e yelled into the desolate landscape.

Nodding vehemently, Guo Jing replied: "First Shifu is not to blame. You can't see. It's all my fault."

"No. I am not just blind in the eyes, I am blind in here too." Ke thumped his chest.

After a moment's pause, Guo Jing said, "We need to rescue her."

"Where is her father?" Ke asked.

"He took Shifu Hong back to Peach Blossom Island. Where do you think Viper Ouyang has taken Lotus?"

Ke Zhen'e had no answer for him. After a short silence, he said, "The Venom is sure to use torture. He won't be gentle. Go and find her, quickly. I will take my own life to thank her for uncovering the truth about my siblings' death."

"No, Shifu, you mustn't!" Guo Jing cried, though he knew his Master's temperament: no one could sway the eldest Freak when his mind was made up. "Please hurry to Peach Blossom Island. We need Apothecary Huang's help. I'm no match for Viper Ouyang."

Guo Jing's words spurred Ke Zhen'e into action. Clutching his spear, he adjusted his course and stumbled off in the direction of the coast, but, before long, he realized that his student was trailing after him. Ke swung his spear shaft backward in a blind arc. "Why are you following me? Why aren't you looking for Lotus? I'll kill you with my bare hands if you fail to find her!"

Shocked by the anger in his mentor's voice, Guo Jing halted and watched as Ke continued on his way east, eventually disappearing into a mulberry grove. At a loss as to how he might find Lotus, he eventually decided to start from her last known location, Iron Spear Temple. He leaped onto Ulaan and, with the condors flying overhead, made his way back toward Jiaxing.

It took Guo Jing no time at all to cover the distance it had taken his teacher three days to cover on foot. All around the abandoned shrine, he found dark clumps of lifeless crows. A pile of bones picked clean by the now lifeless scavengers lay outside the main hall of worship, their bleached white appearance a stark contrast to the black feathered bodies surrounding them.

Guo Jing loathed Yang Kang for causing the death of his five shifus, but the sight of his pitiful remains took the edge of his hatred—after all, they had been sworn brothers. He collected what was left of the young man and buried it at the rear of the temple.

"Brother Yang, I've given you a final resting place," Guo Jing said, bowing on his knees. "Please, help me find Lotus, to atone for your wrongs."

AUTUMN HARDENED into winter and winter melted into spring. Six moons had passed, and yet Guo Jing had found no trace of Lotus. He had asked many wulin Masters for help, including those of the Quanzhen Sect and the Beggar Clan, tapping into their vast networks of associates and contacts.

Nothing. Not a single sighting. Not a whisper of her whereabouts.

The thought of the hardships Lotus must be enduring sliced through Guo Jing's heart like a keen blade. He was determined to find her. He would travel to the heavens' edge and the ocean's end if need be.

He went to Zhongdu, the Jin capital. He went to Bianliang, the Song Empire's former seat, stolen by the Jurchens. He went to Peach Blossom Island, where he found no sign of Lotus or her father. He even went to Roaming Cloud Manor. The grand estate had been razed to the ground, but he had no time to ask around and find out what disaster had befallen Zephyr Lu and his son Laurel Lu.

Guo Jing ventured north once more, entering Shandong province. Desolation met him along the way. Houses and villages stood empty and abandoned. Roads were packed with people fleeing from bloody clashes between the Mongolians and the Jurchens. The latter had been routed, and what was left of the Jin forces had taken to pillaging as they retreated, committing every manner of evil.

For three days, Guo Jing rode through war-torn landscapes, and the further north he went, the more heartbreaking the devastation. He was witnessing firsthand how the common people paid the greatest price when two armies met in battle. As the Jin soldiers moved south, they killed, burned, raped and looted. The Mongol troops were perhaps less brutal, but the difference was negligible to those who came across them. Though he had no love for them, Guo Jing had to admit that, for the time being, the Jin were keeping the Great Khan's cavalry away from the diminished Song Empire, delaying the horrors that were heading its way.

On the fourth day, Guo Jing crossed the border of East Shandong into territory still occupied by the Jin. He rested for the night in the town of Juzhou and continued north until he reached a village outside Mizhou. Just as he was about to ask the locals for a place to water Ulaan and prepare some food, the neighing of war horses and the murmur of gruff, threatening voices filled the air. A company of Jurchen soldiers, several dozen strong, torched their way through the settlement, forcing the villagers from their burning homes. Young women were taken prisoner, their hands bound; the rest—including children and the elderly—were cut down on sight.

Outraged by the savagery on display, Guo Jing urged Ulaan forward, galloping straight at the leader of this cruel troop, and snatched his spear from his grasp. At the same time, he swiped his other hand at the Great Sun acupressure point on the man's temple. The officer's eyes bulged and he dropped dead. His followers roared in fury, leveled their weapons at Guo Jing, and charged.

Sensing the excitement of combat, the Fergana horse burst forward at such speed it was as though he had taken wing, bringing his master into the fighters' midst. Guo Jing seized a broad saber from a nearby soldier. He was still surprised by his own strength, for he had not intended to kill their officer with a single blow. Thrusting the spear with his right hand and swinging the blade with his left, he unleashed the Competing Hands technique on the rogue platoon. The ferocity of the onslaught crushed the men's fighting spirit. They wrenched their horses around, fleeing the same way they had come. And yet, at that same moment, a banner was sighted beyond the fire and smoke. A small division of Mongol riders was galloping toward the village. The Jurchen cavalry had already been crushed by the Mongolians on the battlefield, and they had no desire to face them again, so they pinned their hope on their strength of numbers, reasoning that they might stand a chance against a lone warrior, and spurred their mounts back into the settlement.

But Guo Jing was not prepared to let these soldiers terrorize the helpless farmers any further. Sitting astride his proud steed, he blocked the path leading into the village. A dozen of the braver men led the first charge, and a handful of them fell to Guo Jing's spear in a matter of moments. The rest remained rooted to the spot, too cowed to advance and too frightened to retreat.

The Mongol riders, who had not expected to receive help in enemy territory, now launched a decisive offensive to finish off the remaining Jin soldiers. When the fighting was over, the commander turned to Guo Jing, but, before he could address him, one of his subordinates recognized the young man and hailed him—"Prince of the Golden Blade!"—as he prostrated himself on the ground. Realizing he was in the presence of Princess Khojin's betrothed, the commander scrambled down from the saddle to pay his respects, sending his fastest rider to inform his superior.

While the Mongol soldiers were busy extinguishing fires, on Guo Jing's orders, to a chorus of gratitude from the surviving villagers, a thundering rumble of pounding hooves approached the settlement. The appearance of a yet another cavalry force, and a sizeable one at that, had the locals exchanging looks of fear and dismay.

A magnificent steed with a rich chestnut coat broke out from the newcomers' ranks, as fleet as the wind, and his rider—a strapping young general—asked, "Where is my anda Guo Jing?"

"Tolui!" Guo Jing rushed over and joyfully embraced his sworn brother. Recognizing a familiar figure, the condors swooped down to greet the Mongolian Prince, nuzzling him affectionately.

Once the two anda had greeted one another, Tolui sent a company to round up the Jin stragglers in the area and arranged for a tent to be set up on the hillside, so he and Guo Jing could catch up in comfort on all that had happened since they had parted.

The last few times these childhood friends crossed paths, circumstances had not allowed them much time to speak. Tolui now filled his anda in on developments over the past year or so since Guo Jing had left for the Central Plains with his shifus, the Six Freaks of the South. He had followed his father Genghis Khan on campaign after campaign, riding eastward and west, as had his three brothers, the Princes Jochi, Chagatai and Ogedai; the Four Great Generals, Muqali, Bogurchi, Boroqul and Tchila'un; and less-exalted generals, such as Jebe and Subotai. Together, they won many glorious victories for the Great Khan, greatly expanding Mongol territory—even the Tangut state would soon fall to their might and become a part of their realm. Now he and Muqali were tasked with the conquest of the Jin Empire, and they had been routing the Jurchens in Henan and Shandong. The defeated soldiers—along with other remnants of the Jin army—had retreated to Tong Pass, taking refuge in the mountain stronghold, too afraid to venture into Shandong to face the invaders.

3

Several days later, an urgent message arrived at Tolui's camp. Genghis Khan was summoning all his Princes and generals to the northern part of the Mongolian desert. Tolui and Muqali handed the banners of command to their deputies without delay and set off that very night. Guo Jing decided to join them since he had not seen his mother for more than a year and had no clear idea where he should go next in search of Lotus.

After several days of intense riding, they arrived on the banks of the majestic Onon River. Looking out over the vast plains, which stretched from horizon to horizon, as far as the eye could see, Guo Jing saw thousands of war horses roaming between rows and rows of gers, as countless spearheads and weapons glistened in the spring sunlight. In this makeshift city of tents, one magnificent example fashioned from beige felt stood out from the tens of thousands in modest gray. The tip of its canopy was crowned in solid gold, and a banner made from the tail hairs of nine yaks was planted beside its entrance.

As Guo Jing took in this grand view, he could feel the might of the Great Khan's army and the authority that the golden ger exuded reaching far across the steppes into distant lands. He could imagine Genghis Khan issuing an order from his tent, and a herald carrying it to the swiftest horse, to be passed from rider to rider, until the Khan's words were received by a Prince or a general ten thousand li away. Bugles would sound. Beacons would be lit. Smoke signals would rise from the grasslands. Arrows would fall as dense as a locust swarm. Swords and sabers would flash as iron hooves pounded through plumes of dust.

What are the Great Khan's plans for these lands and people? Guo Jing wondered, but he was soon distracted from his musings by the cloud of fine earth kicked up by the cavalrymen spurring over to welcome them.

Tolui, Muqali and Guo Jing followed the soldiers to the golden ger to greet Genghis Khan. They realized they were the last to answer the summons, for all the other Princes and generals were already standing in two rows inside the tent.

Genghis Khan was pleased by their arrival. He listened to Tolui and Muqali's report on the situation in Henan and Shandong, before turning to Guo Jing. The young man knelt and said, "The Great Khan sent me to take the head of the Jin Prince Wanyan Honglie, but I failed and let him slip away several times. I accept my punishment willingly."

"Why would I wish to punish you? When the condor comes of age, it will catch the fox," Genghis Khan replied with a smile. "I am glad you are back. I have thought of you often."

The conversation soon moved on to the next steps in the campaign against the Jin. The majority of their remaining elite troops had taken refuge at Tong Pass, and it would be nigh on impossible for the Mongolian forces to breach its natural fortifications. But, if they could not subdue its garrison, they would not be able to vanquish the Jurchens once and for all. Muqali proposed they seek alliance with the Song Empire and join forces with their army to launch a pincer attack. Genghis Khan put the proposal into action instantly, ordering a scribe to draft a letter to the Song court and appointing an ambassador to ensure its safe delivery.

The meeting went on for some hours before they adjourned for the day. Guo Jing left the ger to be greeted by the spreading hues of dusk, and immediately went in search of his mother. He had barely walked a few steps when he sensed two hands reaching from behind to cover his eyes. Someone of his martial stature could not possibly fall for such an ambush. He leaned a fraction to the side and was raising his arm to push the attacker away when he caught a sweet fragrance. He pulled back immediately and cried out, "Khojin!"

Genghis Khan's favorite daughter regarded him with a hint of a smile. She had grown taller since their last meeting, near Ox Village, half a year ago. She stood proud over the windswept grasslands, her long-limbed, athletic frame accentuated by her spirited nature.

"Sister," he said, greeting her again.

"You've really come back!" Khojin burst into joyful tears.

This unguarded display of emotion touched Guo Jing. He could tell that she had a thousand things to say to him, but no idea where to start.

"Go and see your mother," she said after a long pause. "Who do you think will be more delighted by your return—me or her?"

"I'm sure Ma will be very happy."

"You mean I'm not?" A playful admonishment.

Guo Jing felt a pang of familiarity at Khojin's frank response. Though he had grown accustomed to the more roundabout way in which people expressed themselves in the South, it warmed him to experience Mongolian forthrightness again, to hear someone state outright what they were feeling in their heart. He was indeed back in the land of his boyhood.

Khojin took his hand and led him to Lily Li's ger. She was overjoyed to be reunited with her son, though the sight of him could not chase away the lonely months she had had endured while he was away.

WITHIN A week of his return, Guo Jing was summoned by Genghis Khan.

"Tolui has told me about your decision. You chose to abide by your word, and that pleases me more than you can know, child. You shall wed my daughter very soon."

Shocked, Guo Jing's first instinct was to refuse. He had yet to find out whether Lotus was dead or alive. How could he marry someone else behind her back? Faced with the imposing Genghis Khan, however, he could only stammer incoherently, unable to string half a sentence together.

The Khan thought the artless young man was struck dumb by excitement. He made him a gift of a thousand household slaves, a hundred jin of gold, five hundred horses, five hundred oxen, two thousand goats and three hundred camels, then ordered him to make preparations for the ceremony.

Khojin was the youngest daughter of Genghis Khan and his first wife and Consort, who had the highest status among all his women. The Mongol Empire had grown prosperous, its might reaching far and wide. Genghis Khan was indefatigable in battle; he could conquer any state or kingdom. When the khans and chieftains of other local tribes learned of the forthcoming nuptials, they all came with congratulations and precious gifts, enough to fill dozens of gers. Khojin was radiant with joy, but Guo Jing's face was drawn with worry, his belly full of troubles.

As the day of their union approached, Guo Jing was increasingly weighed down by dejection, and his whole person was haunted by a cloud of gloom.

Lily Li noticed his demeanor and decided to probe him one evening. Guo Jing told her all about Lotus, holding nothing back, from how they first met to how they had parted. She considered for a long time how she should respond, but, before she could share her thoughts, Guo Jing said, "Ma, I'm really torn. I don't know what to do. I don't even know if she can forgive me for how I treated her."

"We can't repay the Great Khan's kindness with ingratitude. But, as for Lotus…" She sighed. "Though I haven't met her, I can tell she must be very charming."

"What would Papa do?"

It was not a question Lily Li had expected. She cast her mind back to the brief years she had enjoyed with Skyfury Guo, recalling his character and values.

"Your papa would rather suffer for a lifetime than break his word," she said with pride.

Guo Jing got to his feet solemnly, his mind made up. "I have never met Papa, but I will live as he did. If Lotus is unharmed, I will keep my promise and marry Khojin. But if something bad has happened to Lotus, then I will not take a wife in this lifetime."

Lily Li was taken aback by his decision, for it meant that, if the worst were to happen, the Guo bloodline would end with him. And yet, she understood her boy. He was stubborn to a fault, just like his father, and she knew there was nothing anyone could say to sway him.

"How are you going to break the news to the Great Khan?"

"I will tell him the truth."

"Then we can't stay here any longer." Lily Li would stand by her son, no matter what. "After you thank the Great Khan, we will go south immediately."

Guo Jing nodded and started to help his mother pack a few changes of clothes and a small amount of silver for the journey. Everything else in the ger had been a gift from Genghis Khan and she left it all where it was.

When they were ready, Guo Jing said, "I want to bid Khojin farewell."

"Are you … able to say it to her? We should just go quietly … spare her the heartache."

"No, I must tell her myself." With these words, he took leave of his mother and went to find Khojin.

KHOJIN AND her mother were bustling around the ger they shared, getting ready for the impending marriage ceremony, when they heard Guo Jing's arrival.

Khojin's mother chuckled. "The wedding is just days away, and he can't get through a few hours without seeing you."

The young woman blushed. "Ma!"

"Fine. Off you go!"

Beaming, Khojin headed out of the tent.

"Guo Jing." Her voice was softer than usual.

"Sister, I need to speak to you."

Guo Jing led the way. They walked westward for several li, until they were some distance from the camp, then sat down on the ground. Khojin shuffled close and leaned against Guo Jing.

"I have something to say to you too," she said under her breath.

"Ah, you know?" Guo Jing gasped. Perhaps he would be spared the burden of delivering his heavy message?

"Know what? I wanted to tell you … I am not the Great Khan's daughter."

"Huh?"

Khojin turned her face skywards and gazed at the crescent moon that had risen above the horizon while they were walking. "Once we are married –" for once, she was taking her time over her words—"I will forget that I am Genghis Khan's daughter. I will just be Guo Jing's wife. If you wish to beat me, berate me, you can do as you wish. You don't have to hold back because the Great Khan is my father."

Guo Jing's chest tightened at her words. He could feel blood surging through his veins, and the heat that went with it. "Sister, you've been very good to me, but I fear I'm not good enough for you."

"No! You're the best in the world. Only Papa is better than you. My four brothers aren't even half the man you are."

Hearing this, Guo Jing realized that his lips would not be able to form the words he had come to say—that he was leaving Mongolia for the South first thing in the morning.

"I'm so happy," Khojin went on, unaware of the storm churning inside Guo Jing. "When I heard you had died, I just wanted to kill myself so I could be with you, but Tolui made me put the sword down. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here to marry you … Guo Jing, if I can't be your wife, I'd rather be dead."

He sighed, thinking of Lotus. He knew he would never hear Lotus speak to him in this way …

"Why are you sighing?"

"… Nothing."

"I know Big Brother and Second Brother don't like you. But I'll keep reminding Papa that they're not to be trusted. And I'll say nice things about Third Brother and Fourth Brother, because they're fond of you. You have nothing to worry about."

A self-satisfied grin spread on Khojin's face. Guo Jing's confusion was clear to see. He did not understand why she had shifted the conversation on to her brothers. "Mama says that Papa has been thinking about his heir because he's getting old. Who do you think he'll name?"

"Jochi, surely? He's the eldest, and he's won the most battles."

Khojin shook her head. "I don't think so. Most likely, it'll be Third Brother. And, if not, then it'll be Fourth Brother."

"The Great Khan won't change his mind because of a few words from you, will he?" Guo Jing was not convinced by Khojin's predictions. He knew all four Princes. Jochi, the firstborn, was a fierce warrior, indomitable on the field, and Chagatai, the Khan's second son, was astute and capable—it was hard to say who had the greater potential. They were always in competition, each trying to outshine the other. The third son, Ogedai, was a drinker and a hunter, generous and easygoing. It was widely held that either Jochi or Chagatai would succeed, though it was common knowledge that the youngest, Tolui, was the Khan's favorite. As such, Ogedai knew that it was unlikely the title of the Great Khan would be passed on to him. Since he was no threat to them, he was able to maintain a close relationship with all his brothers.

"I don't know," Khojin replied. "It's just my guess. But, even if Big Brother or Second Brother becomes the Great Khan, there's no need to worry. If they make trouble for you, I'll take a blade to them myself."

"You don't have to do that." Guo Jing smiled. He knew it was no empty promise. She was dearest to Genghis Khan's heart, and even her battle-hardened brothers let her have her way.

"True, we can always run away to the South."

"I'm going south," Guo Jing blurted out.

Taken aback, Khojin said after a pause, "Papa and Mama won't let me—"

"It's just me…"

"But I'll always do what you want me to. If you say we're going to the South, that's where I'll go. If Pa and Ma try to stop us, we'll run."

"It's just me and my ma." Guo Jing hopped to his feet in agitation. "The two of us. Going home."

They looked into each other's eyes. One standing, the other sitting. Neither made the slightest movement, as if they were sculptures fashioned from wood or clay.

Confusion flooded Khojin's features. She could not understand his words.

"I'm sorry, Sister. I cannot marry you."

"Have I done something wrong? Are you upset that I didn't kill myself for you?"

"No, no, no, it's not you. You've done nothing. I don't know who's in the wrong. I suppose it's me."

He opened up to her about Lotus, telling her that she had been captured by Viper Ouyang more than six months ago, and that he had failed to find any trace of her. The Mongolian Princess was moved to tears by the grief in his voice.

"Forget me. I have to look for her."

"Will you come to see me when you've found her?"

"If she's safe and unharmed, I'll come back. If you'll still have me then, we'll get married. I won't break my word."

"I know you always keep your word. You should know that I've only ever wanted to marry you. Go find her. Ten years, twenty, as long as I'm alive, I'll be waiting for you here on the steppes."

Sobbing, Khojin leaped up to embrace him. Guo Jing folded his arms lightly over her body, his eyes red-rimmed. They held one another in silence. They both knew anything they said now would only inflict further pain.

4

Four horses charged past Guo Jing and Khojin, galloping toward the camp. One of the beasts collapsed ten zhang from Genghis Khan's golden ger. The rider scrambled to his feet and ran into the tent without casting a glance at the animal, which had dropped dead from exhaustion.

A moment later, ten buglers emerged and arranged themselves in formation to face all four directions, sending steady blasts of their horns out to the furthest reaches of the camp. This unrelenting alarum was Genghis Khan's most urgent summons. All Princes and generals were required to be present. Any who failed to attend or arrived late would be beheaded, with no exceptions.

"The Great Khan's call!" Guo Jing rushed back to the camp, using his fastest lightness kung fu, without bidding Khojin farewell, the thunder of galloping hooves sounding all around him.

Though he had strayed far from the camp, Guo Jing was not the last to enter the golden ger. And, before long, all those expected to attend were gathered before the Great Khan.

"Does that dog Ala ad-Din Muhammad have such fleet-footed princes? Such brave generals?" the conqueror asked with pride.

"No!" the men roared as one.

The Great Khan thumped his chest, pleased with the enthusiastic response then, in a furious tone, he cried, "Look how that dog treated my loyal servants! Look at the men I sent to protect our emissary to Khwarazm!"

Every eye turned in the direction he was indicating and howls of fury erupted as a knot of soldiers entered the ger. Lush beards should have adorned their faces, but all that was left of them was burned stubble that could not conceal the disfiguring swellings and bruises on the skin. Facial hair was a symbol of a Mongol warrior's dignity—it was considered a great insult to touch another man's beard. This was an unforgiveable affront.

"Khwarazm may be large, with a powerful army, but do they intimidate us? We left them alone because we were busy thrashing the Jin dogs. Jochi, my son, tell us what that cur has done."

Jochi stepped forward and said in his booming voice, "Some years ago, Father sent me to quell the cursed Merkits. On our return, flushed with victory, we came across a sizeable army sent by that Khwarazm dog to fight these same Merkits. Our forces met, and I sent a herald to convey Father's wish to establish an alliance, but that red-bearded dog refused, saying, 'Genghis Khan ordered you not to fight us, but Allah demands we fight you.' It was a fierce battle. We had the better of it, but they outnumbered us ten to one, so we had to retreat under the cover of darkness."

"Despite this provocation, the Great Khan continued to be courteous," Boroqul added. "When they robbed and murdered our merchants, we sent an envoy to repair relations, but that dog Muhammad is doing the Jin mongrel Wanyan Honglie's bidding. He had our brave ambassador killed, together with half his guards, then he scorched the beards of the rest of the men and sent them back to us."

A chill went through Guo Jing's heart at the mention of his father's murderer. "Wanyan Honglie is in Khwarazm?"

Growling, one of the survivors answered, "I saw him sitting next to the Shah, whispering in his ear."

"The Jin are working with Khwarazm. To trap us between their armies. But are we afraid?" Genghis Khan asked.

"No!" A collective cry, then one of the generals spoke up. "Invincible is our Great Khan. We will take the fight to Khwarazm, capture their cities, torch their houses, slaughter their men and seize their women and livestock!"

"We'll take Shah Muhammad! We'll take Wanyan Honglie!" Genghis Khan declared, and the generals chanted as one, filling the grasslands with their battle cry and making the candles in the ger flicker.

Genghis Khan unsheathed his saber and brandished the blade, then rushed outside and vaulted onto his steed. The generals followed suit and together they rode until they reached a hill several li away. The Khan galloped to its crest, but his men stayed put at its base to give their leader the space to think in solitude, forming a circle around the mound instead.

Spotting Guo Jing down below, the conqueror called out, "Come here, son."

When the young man reined in next to him, Genghis Khan pointed his horsewhip at the view before them. The entire camp of the Mongolian army. By each ger, a fire was burning. They twinkled on the steppe like stars in the sky.

"My boy, remember what I said to you on that day when we were surrounded by Senggum and Jamuka on the hill."

"Yes, you said we Mongols have many brave men, and, if we were united, we could make all the world's grasslands ours."

Genghis Khan waved his whip over his head. A sharp crack sounded in agreement. "And now, we Mongols are united, and we will catch Wanyan Honglie."

Although Guo Jing had made up his mind to return to the South the next morning, he knew he could not let a chance to avenge his father pass him by. And he would also be eliminating one of Mongolia's enemies, thereby repaying some of the kindness the Great Khan had shown him and his mother over the years.

"We'll catch the Jin dog, this time!"

"Khwarazm claims to have a host one million strong, but I think they only have six or seven hundred thousand men. Still, that is a sizeable number. Our whole army amounts to two hundred thousand, and I have to keep some men back to fight the Jin. Now, do you think one hundred and fifty thousand of us can beat seven hundred thousand of them?"

"Yes!" Guo Jing was unfamiliar with the art of war, but he had the headstrong boldness of youth and he could not imagine shrinking from adversity.

"Indeed, we will triumph." Genghis Khan was infected by the young man's conviction. "That day on the hill, I said I'd treat you as my own son, and Temujin always remembers the promises he makes. Ride west with me. We will take Muhammad and Wanyan Honglie together. And, when we return victorious, you can marry my daughter."

Genghis Khan spurred his horse downhill, his voice booming in the night: "Muster the troops!"

A blast of bugles passed on his command.

As Guo Jing rode back by Genghis Khan's side, he saw soldiers rushing by and warhorses racing ahead, but there was not a hint of chatter or confusion—men and beasts prepared for the Great Khan's inspection with exemplary discipline and efficiency. Three divisions of ten thousand cavalrymen, sabers glistening in the moonlight, had arranged themselves in neat rows on the grassy plain in the short time it took the conqueror and his generals to return to the golden ger.

GENGHIS KHAN sent for his scribe. He was ready to declare war on the Shah of Khwarazm. The clerk selected a sizeable piece of lambskin parchment and set down a long message. When he finished, he read it aloud on his knees.

"Appointed by the heavens above to rule over the tribes of the earth, the Great Khan hath claimed lands stretching ten thousand li and conquered kingdoms beyond number. No sovereign hath since time immemorial reigned over an empery as vast and glorious as does the Great Khan. When the Great Khan strikes, he dazzles like thunder and lightning, and none living can withstand his fury.

"The fate of thy state, whether mercy or desolation, depends upon thy resolve today. Think thrice with care. For, if thou wilt not submit and pay tribute, the great Mongolian troops thou shalt face…"

Wrath spread over Genghis Khan's face as he listened. He gave the white-whiskered man a taste of his boot, sending him flipping over in a sprawling roll.

"Who are you writing to? Does Genghis Khan waste his words on a Khwarazm dog?" The conqueror picked up his horsewhip and lashed the scrivener over the head a dozen times. "Listen well. Write down my exact words."

Quaking in pain and fear, the man scrambled into a more dignified kneeling position and produced a second parchment, his eyes trained on his liege's lips.

The Great Khan gazed at the thirty thousand soldiers visible through the open flap of his ger and spoke in a deep bass: "Just six words."

He paused and declared in a voice loud and clear: "You want war. Here we come."

The startled scribe had never imagined penning a message for the conqueror so lacking in decorum, but he had suffered enough from the whip and his face was still burning from its sting. He held his tongue and set down the blunt words in his largest hand, filling the whole parchment.

"Put my gold seal on this and have it delivered right away."

Muqali stamped the letter with the symbol of Genghis Khan's authority and beckoned over the commander of a thousand-strong battalion, who he ordered to act as courier. The bold message roused the spirit of the warriors inside the ger, and, as they listened to the beating of hooves speeding westward across the open country, they chanted in one voice:

"You want war. Here we come."

"Ho-hu! Ho-hu!" The thirty thousand soldiers outside answered with the Mongol rider's war whoop. Horses huffed and neighed in excitement.

The battle call shook the grasslands and rattled the heavens, as though the fighting had already begun.

FROM HIS golden throne, Genghis Khan dismissed his generals, and, in their absence, he was soon lost to his memories. The ornate chair was once the Jin Emperor's personal possession, a prize the Khan had seized when his riders entered Zhongdu. On its back, carved dragons chased after a pearl. The conqueror rested his elbow on an armrest adorned by a fearsome tiger and cupped his chin in his hand. He thought of his youth, those distant days of hardships and trials. He thought of his mother, his first wife, his four sons and his beloved daughter. He thought of his countless concubines, his undefeated armies, his vast empire and the mighty enemy he was about to face.

He might have been getting on in years, but his hearing was still keen. He picked up the cry of a horse in distress in the distance and the lifeless silence that followed it. He was familiar with the scenario that had just played out. An aged horse, an incurable ailment, one hack of a saber to end all suffering.

I too am growing old, he admitted with a sigh. Will I come back from this campaign? If I die in the field, will my four sons turn the realm upside down fighting over this throne?… Can I escape the clutches of death?

He had always been fearless, indomitable, a great hero, but the days of waning strength were looming and thoughts of death were never far away, bringing a shiver to his heart. His mind turned to a group of people from the South that he had heard about. Taoists, they were called. It was said that they had ways of becoming an Immortal, of living forever without growing old. Could this be true?

Genghis Khan clapped twice and ordered a guard to send for Guo Jing, so he could ask the young man about the matter.

"I don't know if what you describe is possible," Guo Jing answered. "But lengthening one's life by training the qi and controlling your breathing—that can be done."

"Are you acquainted with anyone with such skills? Find them for me."

"Those who possess such knowledge are not easily summoned."

"True … I can send a high-ranking official with gifts to entice them north. But who should I approach?"

Guo Jing pondered the question. The Quanzhen Sect was the most orthodox school, and Reverend Qiu was not only the most skilled among his five martial siblings, but also the most interested in worldly matters. Maybe he could be persuaded?

Delighted by Guo Jing's suggestion, Genghis Khan called the scribe into his ger again, instructing him to write to Qiu Chuji the Eternal Spring Immortal inviting him to visit Mongolia. The man thought hard about how to word this letter, his skin still hot from the beating earlier. He decided to model it on his last composition and set down seven simple words:

I seek your knowledge. Come at once.

The man was confident the note would please the Great Khan by emulating his forthright style, but the moment the words came out of his mouth, he felt the horsewhip again.

"You think I'd address a learned man in the same way I do a Khwarazm dog. Start again. This letter must be long, respectful, polite."

The scrivener was unfamiliar with Chinese writing, so he sent for a Han clerk, relaying the Khan's instructions, and soon Genghis Khan was presented with a parchment filled with columns of neat calligraphy.

The heavens look askance at the tendency for haughty extravagance among those of the Central Plains, and I, who live in the northern wilderness, harbor no such sensual passions, but wish to return to honest simplicity and to forswear luxury for frugality. My every garment and my every meal are the same as that of a herdsman or a stableboy. I see the people as my own children, I nurture talents as if they were my own brothers, seeking harmony in our principles and abundance in our gratitude. In drills, I step out first before divisions of ten thousand; on the field, I have survived more than a hundred confrontations and never lagged back. In seven years, I have succeeded in my great endeavor, uniting all between the heavens and earth and within the four breaths of the wind.

It is not my behavior that is deemed virtuous, but that the Jin lack constancy in their governance, and thus I have been blessed by the heavens to inherit the empery supreme. To the south, Song of the Zhao clan; to the north, the Uyghurs; to the east, the Tanguts; to the west, petty barbarian tribes. They all pledge loyalty as clients. Such power has never been known to the many Khans who have led our kingdom for thousands of years and hundreds of generations.

Yet, as I strive to maintain this great and weighty responsibility, I fear I am lacking the ability to instill orderly rule. Just as men have known to carve wood into boats when they wish to cross a river, thus must one hire wise men and choose capable aides when one wishes to settle all under the heavens. Since my ascendance, I have put my heart into every aspect of governance, but the places of the three chancellors and the nine ministers are still to be filled.

From my inquiries, I have heard that Master Qiu lives in truth and walks with integrity, is learned and experienced and has studied the laws of the world in depth. As such, the Master is rich in virtue and the Way, with the lofty airs of upright men of old and the graceful demeanor of noble men untainted by guile; and, for a long time, the Master has lived in valleys of rocks, hiding his body and shielding his form.

I have also heard that the Master has been disseminating the teachings of his forebears, drawing men who have attained knowledge in the Way, gathering like clouds in numbers uncountable on the path to seek Immortality. It has come to my knowledge that, since the clash of shields and dagger-axes, the Master has continued to live in the same place of old in Shandong, and my heart has much admired and thought often of the Master.

After reading out what he had written, the Chinese clerk asked, "Is this letter long enough?"

Laughing, Genghis Khan replied, "Yes, it is! Just add that I will send the Han Chinese official Liu Zhonglu to escort him, and insist that he must come."

The man touched his brush to the parchment again:

Of course, I am familiar with the lore of King Wen of Zhou finding Jiang Ziya fishing on the bank of the Wei River and bringing him back in his carriage to assist him at court, and the tale of Liu Bei visiting Zhuge Liang's thatched hermitage thrice to invite the master tactician to aid him in winning the throne.

Frustrated by mountains towering and rivers wide, I am unable to perform the courtesy of bowing low and entreating you in person, but I have descended from the seat imperial and stood to the side, fasted and bathed, before sending my close and trusted officer Liu Zhonglu to travel with the swiftest horses and an unadorned carriage, undeterred by the distance of many thousands of li, to humbly invite the Master to grant us his Immortal steps for a time. Think not of the far-flung sandy desert, but of affairs concerning vast multitudes, and of the skills that would help me preserve this body.

I shall personally wait on your Immoral seat, in hope that the honorable Master will deign to spare a word for me between a cough and a hawk, and I shall be satisfied. And now, this letter merely represents not one ten-thousandth of my intent. I sincerely hope, since the Master is at the forefront of the Great Way, that he would respond always to kindness and oblige the wish of the multitude, and this is why I am sending this invitation.

Once Genghis Khan had heard the additional content, he bestowed on the clerk five taels of gold and ordered Guo Jing to write a personal note to add weight to the letter. And, that same night, Liu Zhonglu traveled south to seek out the Taoist.

5

The following day, Genghis Khan gathered his princes and generals to discuss their campaign in the west. In the sight of his most loyal followers, he named Guo Jing Noyan and allocated him a division of ten thousand soldiers. The title was Mongolia's highest official honor, granted only to those closest to and most trusted by the Great Khan.

Guo Jing might have been a capable martial artist, but he was a novice when it came to warfare. So, he turned to his sworn brother Tolui and the Generals Jebe, Subotai and Boroqul for help. He had never been a quick learner, and battle formations were full of subtleties and variations. How could he cram knowledge accrued over years of fighting on the field into a matter of days? Even organizational and administrative duties like inspecting soldiers, preparing provisions and selecting horses and weapons were beyond him. All he could do was to delegate work to the ten captains under his command, while Jebe and Tolui kept an eye on his progress and gave him advice and reminders along the way. After all, there was plenty to be done before one hundred and fifty thousand men were ready to march westward across frozen, barren landscape, and every man, whatever their rank, had their share of responsibility.

A month into the campaign, Guo Jing was feeling more and more uncertain in his role. He was under no illusions about his lack of strategic acumen, and, against an army of a million men, the eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms and the Nine Yin Manual would be no use at all. One ill-advised command could spell total defeat. Not only would he tarnish Genghis Khan's good name, he would be personally accountable for the deaths of the ten thousand men under his banner. He resolved to resign his commission and fight instead as a regular soldier—a single rider breaking through the enemy lines to cause havoc. Just as he was about to head to Genghis Khan's golden ger to give him the news, one of his guards reported that more than a thousand Han Chinese had come to seek an interview with him.

Excited that Qiu Chuji had arrived sooner than expected, Guo Jing rushed out of his tent to find a large group of men in patched rags.

Three stepped forward, each greeting him with a deep bow. Jian, Liang and Surefoot Lu—Elders of the Beggar Clan.

"Have you had any news of Lotus?" Guo Jing asked, after taking a moment to gather his wits.

"We have been searching, but have yet to find the Chief," Surefoot Lu replied. "We are here to offer assistance on your campaign."

"How do you know about it?"

"We heard it from the Quanzhen Sect. A herald from the Great Khan was in contact with them concerning an invitation for Reverend Qiu Chuji."

Guo Jing stared at the wisps of white cloud in the south. The Beggar Clan has eyes and ears everywhere, he said to himself, and even they have no idea where Lotus might be. This can't bode well. The rims of his eyes turned red at this thought, but he quickly mastered his emotions. He ordered his guards to help the beggars settle in, then he went to the golden ger to inform Genghis Khan of the new arrivals, who were given permission to serve under his banner. After a moment's internal struggle, the young man broached the subject of his intention to step down.

"No one understands warfare from birth!" the Great Khan barked, clearly furious. "You'll learn after a few battles. How can someone who grew up under my care be afraid of leading troops? How can Genghis Khan have a son-in-law who can't cope with command?"

Guo Jing knew there was nothing more he could say on the matter and returned to his ger, weighed down by worry. At nightfall, while posting sentries, he came across Surefoot Lu, and, when the beggar learned of his troubles, he said, "If I'd known, I would have brought a copy of Sun Tzu's The Art of War or Grand Duke Jiang's Six Secret Teachings from the South." He offered a few more words of consolation, then took his leave.

The Beggar Clan Elder's comment reminded Guo Jing that General Yue Fei's final writings were in his possession. The Secret to Defeating the Jin. A military treatise! How could he have forgotten? He took the thread-bound volume from the small parcel of clothes and personal belongings he had brought with him from the South and read through the night until noon the next day.

Even though he felt a little tired, he was also invigorated, for the book discussed in detail every aspect of military action—devising strategies, analyzing situations, launching assaults, maintaining a defense, training soldiers, deploying captains, assigning formations and leading guerrilla operations. Whether one was on the march or stationary, or in a secure or precarious position, it offered tactics that could confound an opponent's expectations. Guo Jing had leafed through the text when he was sailing down the Yuan River with Lotus; now that he had a use for it, he began to understand the true value of its contents.

Whenever he reached a section he could not comprehend, he would invite Surefoot Lu to his ger and seek his opinion. Each time, the Beggar Clan Elder would say, "I don't have an answer, right now. Let me think on it," and take his leave. Yet, moments later, he would return with a lucid, thorough explanation. Delighted, Guo Jing would ask the beggar follow-up questions, and the same thing would happen again. Surefoot Lu never had a response on the spot, but, once he had stepped outside to consider the issue, he was guaranteed to return with solutions, as though he had an extra store of intellectual power beyond Guo Jing's tent. At first, the young man thought little of it, but, when the same interaction recurred time and again over the next few days, even he sensed that there was something peculiar at work.

One night, Guo Jing pointed out a character he did not recognize. Surefoot Lu glanced at it and said he would step outside to consider the matter.

How odd, Guo Jing said to himself. You either know a character or you don't! How can you work out its meaning by just thinking about it? This isn't a question on the book's content.

Driven by the curiosity common to young men of his age, this commander of ten thousand soldiers sneaked out the back of his ger the instant Surefoot Lu left through the main entrance. He lay flat among the tall grass to spy on the beggar, determined to find out the source of his secret knowledge.

The older man scuttled into a nearby small tent, emerging again just moments later. Guo Jing rushed back to his ger and pretended that he had never left it.

"I recall now," Surefoot Lu said, and he stated the character's pronunciation and meaning.

"Elder Lu, why don't we invite your teacher to join us?" Guo Jing said with a chuckle.

The reply came a beat too slow. "I have no teacher."

"Let's see, eh?"

Grinning, Guo Jing took the Beggar Clan Elder by the arm and led him to the tent he had just ducked in and out of. The two Clan members standing guard by the entrance coughed as one the moment they saw Surefoot Lu was not alone. Recognizing it was a warning to whoever was inside, Guo Jing ran ahead and flung the tent open, but found it empty. He caught a slight movement of the felt on the far end and lifted the material to look outside. Just grass. Not a soul in sight in the gloom. Guo Jing fixed Surefoot Lu with a suspicious look, but the beggar insisted that he was the sole occupier of the ger.

Unconvinced, Guo Jing raised another question about General Yue Fei's writings in hope that he could lure out this mysterious fount of knowledge, but Surefoot Lu replied that it was one he would have to consider overnight. When Guo Jing received the answer the next morning, the only information he could glean from it was that this teacher was most likely a learned man of the jianghu, and that they held no ill intent toward him. He had decided to respect their wish to remain anonymous, and, since there was still much to be done to get his troops in order, he soon put the matter out of his mind.

Every night, Guo Jing studied the military tract, and through the day he drilled his soldiers using the methods described in its pages. The Mongol cavalry had always charged in a free-flowing, irregular horde and were unaccustomed to formal battle arrays, but they followed their commander's orders without complaint. In a little more than a month, the supplies for the whole army were ready, and the ten thousand men led by Guo Jing had also learned eight key tactical formations: Shielding Sky, Embracing Earth, Rising Wind, Hanging Cloud, Soaring Dragon, Winged Tiger, Gliding Bird and Coiling Snake. These combat arrangements were invented by the military strategist Zhuge Liang, based on ancient patterns, and General Yue Fei had enhanced them with his own interpretations.

In The Secret to Defeating the Jin, General Yue not only explained these formations in detail, he also gave an account of how he had come to appreciate their value on the field. In his early career, he had demonstrated a preference for guerrilla tactics, but his superior Zong Ze warned him: "You are as courageous, wise and talented as the great generals of old, but a fondness for irregular battle plans makes you vulnerable."

Once Yue Fei had mastered the art of tactical deployment, he came to a conclusion that had Zong Ze nodding in approval: "It is standard practice to assume a formation before battle, but tactics are only as good as the men you command." As General Yue gained experience fighting campaign after campaign, he realized that battles could not be won by simply deploying existing structures. He began to drill his soldiers relentlessly, until their familiarity with the maneuvers allowed them to adapt them as the situation required, giving them a tactical edge that all but ensured victory.

6

On a brisk, crisp morning, under a jade-blue sky stretching ten thousand li, fifteen divisions of ten thousand men lined up in neat rows on the steppe. Genghis Khan made offerings to the heavens and earth, and addressed his troops.

"Stones have no flesh, human life is finite," he cried. "My hair and beard have grown white. I may not return from this campaign. So, today, I will name the son who will raise my banner after I am gone."

The Khan's generals stirred, eager for the announcement. Many had fought hundreds of battles at the conqueror's side, giving their youth and blood to forge his empire, and for the most part they had likewise gone gray.

Genghis Khan continued: "Jochi, you are my firstborn. Who should I name as my heir?"

The Prince's heart skipped a beat. It was not a question he was expecting and not one he could answer comfortably. Brave, warlike, the eldest son with the most battle honors, he had always assumed that he would be the natural choice to ascend the throne.

It was the fiery Chagatai who answered. "Huh! Let Jochi speak? Let this Merkit bastard rule over us?"

In Genghis Khan's early days, when his followers were few, the Merkits had abducted his wife. By the time he rescued her, several years later, she had given birth to Jochi, but the Khan had raised him as his own blood.

Jochi threw himself at Chagatai and seized the front of his robe. "Father has never treated me as an outsider, and yet you insult me thus! You're no better than me, you arrogant cur! I challenge you. If you best me at archery, I'll hack off my thumb. If I lose in a duel, let me stay in the dirt forever." He then turned to Genghis Khan. "Father, give us permission to fight!"

The brothers had always had a fractious relationship, and now, with each clutching a fistful of the other's clothes, it seemed certain they would come to blows. The Khan's generals rushed over to restrain the pair. Bogurchi took hold of Jochi's arms, while Muqali dragged Chagatai back.

Genghis Khan was unusually subdued, reminded of how helpless he had been, so young and so weak that he could not even protect his own wife, thus sowing the seeds of the present discord. When he heard the generals chiding Chagatai for his rash words, for bringing up painful, buried ghosts of the past, he issued a calm but firm command: "Let go, both of you. Jochi is my firstborn, and I have always loved and valued him. There is nothing more for anyone to say on this matter."

Grudgingly, Chagatai released his brother. "It is known that Jochi is strong and capable, but he has none of Third Brother's finer qualities. Let Ogedai be your heir."

"Jochi, what say you?"

The question made it clear to Jochi that he would never be Khan. But he had always been friendly with Ogedai, and given the younger man's charitable nature, he would not have to fear future plots against his life.

"Excellency, I concur," he said, accepting his fate.

Tolui, the Fourth Prince, had no objection either, but Ogedai declined the honor.

"Do not refuse me," Genghis Khan said to his third son. "You may not be as skilled in warfare as your older brothers, but you are kind and generous. When you are the Great Khan, you will keep the peace between your princes and generals. So long as we don't turn against each other, we cannot be vanquished. Do not look so troubled. You are more than worthy."

A feast was held to celebrate the naming of the Crown Prince and everyone drank late into the night. By the time he reached his ger, Guo Jing was himself a little tipsy, but, before he could undress for bed, one of his guards rushed in.

"General! The First Prince and Second Prince have called their men to arms!"

"Tell the Great Khan immediately!"

"We can't wake him. He's passed out from the wine."

Jochi and Chagatai both had many loyal followers who had been fighting under their banners for years. If they were to meet in battle, it would do irreparable damage to the core force of the Mongolian army. The Princes had almost come to blows before the Great Khan during the day, and now, with their wits addled by drink, Guo Jing knew it was a clash he had little hope of averting. He paced around, slapping himself on the forehead and wishing he could think of a plan.

"If Lotus were here, she'd tell me what to do," he mumbled with mounting anxiety as he listened to the rumble of distant war cries. Any moment now, the Princes' men would be plunging their blades into their own countrymen.

Just then, Surefoot Lu rushed into the ger and handed him a note:

Keep the two forces apart with Coiling Snake.

Round up those who resist with Winged Tiger.

In the past weeks, Guo Jing had studied The Secret to Defeating the Jin so thoroughly that he knew it almost by heart. One glance at the message, and he could already visualize how he should deploy his soldiers to prevent bloodshed, but why had he not come up with the idea himself? What was the point of learning battle tactics when he was too slow-witted to apply them?

Guo Jing ordered a bugle to be sounded. Although his men were still half drunk from the feast, the iron discipline of the Mongolian army was drilled into their very bones. At the first blast of the horn, they were pulling on their armor and mounting their horses, and, before long, ten thousand men were lined up in orderly ranks.

Three beats of the drums, followed by a resounding fanfare. The vanguard roared, then spurred northeast, leading the charge. Several li later, a scout returned to report that the Princes' forces were drawn up in battle lines and the first skirmishes had already broken out. The war whoops of ho-hu, ho-hu were growing louder.

Am I too late? Can I stop them? Guo Jing asked himself as he signaled to his captains. On his command, ten thousand men instantly split into dozens of companies and began to arrange themselves in the Coiling Snake formation.

Three battalions from the Right-Rear Earth Axis company charged ahead, and the same number of troops from the Right-Fore Earth Axis drew back to form the snake's tail. Units from the Right-Rear Celestial Balance, the Right Earth Rear-Surge, the Right Celestial Rear-Surge, the North-Westerly Wind and the North-Easterly Wind took up positions to the right of this central force, mirrored by an identical deployment on the left flank.

By now, Jochi and Chagatai's advanced guards were already crossing swords. Guo Jing's troops drove a wedge between the two factions, separating them. Each of the Princes commanded more than twenty thousand men, but not a single soldier on either side had ever seen such a tight formation move so rapidly. Even seasoned fighters hesitated and began looking around in confusion for fresh orders.

"Are you here to help me or the Merkit bastard Jochi?" Chagatai yelled.

Ignoring the question, Guo Jing signaled to his flag-bearer, and the Coiling Snake morphed seamlessly into a Winged Tiger. Now the main strength of the formation faced to the left, led by four units from the Right-Fore Celestial Balance. Further companies moved to outflank Chagatai's force, while two units from the Left Celestial Fore-Surge stood ready to repel an assault from Jochi's forces.

At last, Chagatai caught a clear view of the banner of the commander who had dared come between him and Jochi. "I always knew southern barbarians weren't to be trusted," he hissed.

The Second Prince ordered his soldiers to attack Guo Jing's men, but the Winged Tiger, devised by the military tactician and general Han Xin during the decisive battle at Gaixia against the warlord Xiang Yu, was adaptable, powerful and difficult to outflank. Though it was widely held, as decreed by Sun Tzu, that a commander should only consider encircling an opposing force if he outnumbered them ten to one, the flexible Winged Tiger formation defied this rule. A smaller army could employ it to get the better of a much larger opponent.

Guo Jing's soldiers began to weave through gaps in Chagatai's ranks in small units, making it difficult for them to determine how many men and horses they were up against. Fear and doubt started to spread through the Second Prince's troops as they were cut off from support and forced into isolated, disorganized groups, their already weak fighting spirit waning fast. After all, they understood they had been ordered to attack their own tribesmen, friends and brothers-in-arms, and feared the Great Khan's wrath.

"We are Mongolians. We are brothers. We shouldn't turn our blades on each other," Guo Jing's deputy cried. "Throw down your weapons if you want to keep your heads."

The majority of Chagatai's men dismounted at once and tossed their sabers aside, but a thousand of the Second Prince's most loyal and trusted fighters, following their commander's lead, charged at the heart of Guo Jing's formation.

A gong sounded three times, and eight companies of Guo Jing's soldiers galloped over from all directions to intercept Chagatai's small force. Ropes were stretched out across the ground to trip the horses, sending men flying from their steeds. Each of Chagatai's defiant soldiers was subdued by three or four of Guo Jing's men and pressed into the ground, their hands tied behind their backs.

Delighted to see Chagatai's troops quelled, Jochi urged his horse forward and hailed Guo Jing, but his call was drowned out by a blast of the horn. Guo Jing's rear guard was suddenly his front line, and they were closing fast on Jochi's men. The First Prince had studied tactics, but he had never seen anything like this. He ordered his riders not to engage, as he watched Guo Jing's force split into twelve groups, but now, instead of advancing, they were retreating. Jochi was flummoxed. He had no way of knowing that the mercurial formation was inspired by the twelve hours of the day. The groups—Zi of Great Black, Chou of Foe Crushed, Yin of Left Breakthrough, Mao of Green Serpent, Chen of Evil Smashed, Si of Forward Surge, Wu of Great Red, Wei of Advance Spur, Shen of Right Strike, You of White Cloud, Xu of Victory Claimed, and Hai of Rear Guard—alternated between launching assaults and holding their ground, charging back and forth in unpredictable patterns, always confounding expectations. Sometimes the companies on the right surged toward the left, and at other times those on the left cut across to the right. In no time at all, Jochi's ranks were broken, morale shattered, and any who resisted were subdued in the same way as Chagatai's loyal followers.

Outfought and outthought by Guo Jing, the Princes turned their minds to the indignities they had subjected the young man to at their first meeting, almost fifteen years before. Jochi had whipped the six-year-old Guo Jing half to death and Chagatai had set his mastiffs on him. Surely he would now seize his chance to take revenge. As their heads cleared, the Princes began to rue their drunken impulse and dread the punishment their father would mete out.

Although Guo Jing had broken up the battle and captured the two culprits, he was unsure if he had put himself in greater trouble, for he understood his place as an outsider. He was about to seek out Ogedai and Tolui for advice, when he heard a bugle's call. The Great Khan's white yak-hair banner, illuminated by torchlight, was approaching.

Genghis Khan had been incensed when he was at last roused from his drunken stupor to be greeted by the news that his two eldest sons were leading their armies against one another. He galloped over in his nightclothes, without stopping to arm himself, his loose hair flowing in the wind.

To his great surprise, he found the two forces sitting on the ground in neat rows, watched over by Guo Jing's cavalrymen. The Princes sat astride their steeds, but their helmets and weapons had been taken away, and they were each surrounded by eight warriors with gleaming sabers. On the gallop over, he had expected to find a bloody scene—his finest soldiers slaughtering each other and his two eldest sons slain. He had not imagined that such a disaster could be averted without casualties.

After hearing Guo Jing's account of the event, Genghis Khan summoned all the generals, publicly chastised Jochi and Chagatai, then he turned to his future son-in-law.

"You told me you knew nothing of leading armies, but you have done a greater deed tonight than if you had vanquished the entire Jin force. If we fail to capture a city, we can lick our wounds and return another day, but if I had lost my sons and my best soldiers, nothing we could do would bring them back."

The Great Khan rewarded Guo Jing with a generous gift of gold, silver and cattle. The young man took nothing for himself and gave the bounty to his soldiers, who rewarded his generosity with deafening cheers. Later that day, a stream of generals dropped by his ger with congratulations, and, when the last of them left, Guo Jing heeded his old mentor Jebe's advice and called on Jochi and Chagatai to apologize for any affront that he might have caused. He need not have worried. The Princes were genuinely grateful for his prompt and decisive action. After years of bad blood and resentment, they were at last warming to the young man, though the animosity between the two brothers still bubbled away beneath the surface.

When Guo Jing was alone at last in his ger, he took out Surefoot Lu's note and studied the calligraphy. Awkward, clumsy, likely to be the beggar's hand. Questions began to fill his head.

I've never mentioned the formations by name to Elder Lu, he reminded himself. And I've never asked him to explain them either. Has he somehow been reading General Yue's writings behind my back?

He decided to send for the beggar and discover the truth.

"Elder Lu, if you're interested in warfare, I can lend you the book."

Surefoot Lu laughed. "I have no desire to be a general, and I don't need military tactics to lead my brethren. Your book is of no use to me."

"Then how did you know about the Coiling Snake and Winged Tiger formations?" Guo Jing pointed at the note.

"You told me. Have you forgotten?"

Guo Jing knew it was not true, but he could not imagine what Surefoot Lu was trying to hide from him.

The next day, Genghis Khan summoned the Princes and generals to inform them of their roles in the upcoming campaign. Chagatai and Ogedai were to lead the vanguard, while Jochi was given the left flank and Guo Jing the right. Each of these armies would be made up of three divisions of ten thousand men. Genghis Khan would preside over the main army of sixty thousand with Tolui. Every soldier was allotted several horses, which they rode in turn to preserve the animals' strength. Officers and generals were given a greater number of steeds, so this army of one hundred and fifty thousand men marched with more than a million war horses, as well camels and horse-drawn carts carrying provisions for men and fodder for beasts. They traveled with more livestock than could be counted, for the troops were to venture deep into the western wilderness and they had to bring sufficient supplies for the whole journey.

At the urging of drums and bugles, the vanguard—thirty thousand men and many more horses—took the first steps westward, followed by the rest of the army. The Mongol riders journeyed farther into Khwarazm's territory than ever before, capturing cities and settlements with the ease with which one splits bamboo along its grain. They had mastered the art of forging and casting iron, which had reached them from the Song and Jin Empires, and were able to produce weapons and armor of unparalleled quality. Taken together with Genghis Khan's brilliance on the battlefield, it made them an unstoppable force. Shah Muhammad might have more troops under his command, but, man for man, they were no match for the Mongolians.