Heart of Steel - Meljean Brook [93]
Archimedes wondered, “Do you have nanoagents, Nergüi?”
She gave an amused cackle. “So that the Great Khan might control us, too?”
“Rebels have much in common with the New World,” Yasmeen said in French. “But I would never tell either of them that.”
Archimedes laughed, and watched as she seemed to settle in without moving much at all—just a sigh, and a slight pressure against his leg as she rested more fully against him. “So what sort of story are you telling us?”
“A tragic one,” she said. “It began with love, as tragedies always do.”
“If that is your opinion, no wonder your heart is of steel.”
A sharp shht! from Nergüi. Archimedes stifled his laugh. It had been some time since he’d been hushed, but he settled in, too, watching Yasmeen’s face as she began.
“There was a warrior queen, clever and strong, who held together the empire through turbulent times. Manduhai the Wise, wife to the Khan and Khatun herself after he died of long sickness, she ruled and all of the empire loved her, but for the heirs of Ögedei, who wanted to tear her throne away.”
This was not her story, he realized. At least, not as Terbish’s had been, but something she must have heard again and again. Blissed, her voice had taken on the cadence of a poem in the Horde language that her heavy accent seemed to emphasize, lift.
“She bore many sons and daughters, and taught them all in the ways of the Eternal Sky and the Earth Mother, and taught them to love the mountains that brought men close to the sky, and the rivers that were the mother’s blood. All her children were favored, but none more than her son Barsu Bolod, the Steel Tiger, who everyone agreed would be Khan when her eyes had closed. She told him that he must find a wife, but only to marry one who was as strong and as fierce, as noble and as wise as she. Barsu Bolod searched the empire, looking for such a woman, when he was beset upon by bandits trying to take his gold. He fought, but there were too many. But his warrior’s cries were heard in a nearby village, where there lived a maiden of beauty and boldness. Taking up her spear, Khojen slew the bandits, and their blood spewed into the earth like a thunderstorm. Barsu Bolod saw her, and loved her, and knew that she would stand beside him when he was Khan, and if ever he fell too early, she would defend their people with the ferocity of a tiger. He brought her back to Xanadu, and presented her to the wise queen, who saw that Khojen’s soul was a mirror to her own. They were married, and in their happiness, they agreed to the queen’s wise advice to travel around the empire, so that the people would know them both.”
She paused. Not to wet her lips, Archimedes saw with astonishment, but because she was overcome with feeling. Her eyes glistened and her throat worked. Perhaps it was only the opium—but whatever she claimed of her heart of steel, she burned with deep emotion.
What would it be to be loved by her? God, he would give anything to know.
“They traveled to the lands of Goryeo and read the carved blocks. They walked through the flowered temples of Khmer. They bathed in the sacred river, and floated lamps filled with oil across her waters. They reached for the Eternal Sky upon the highest mountains. They crossed the deserts and walked three times around the house of God.
“Everywhere, they were welcomed and showered with gifts. But although Lady Khojen was given gems and gold, treasures uncounted, she would not be parted from the gift of the Persian lynx, the caracal with the tufted ears and golden fur. It sat upon her lap, always, purring as she stroked its soft side, and would not allow anyone but Lady Khojen and Barsu Bolod to caress it. Like Lady Khojen,