Koja paused, allowing ample opportunity for his audience to consider the words. Batu remained unimpressed.
The lama continued," 'This I have done not out of greed, only to repay your treacherous attempt on my life. Now, I have learned that your emperor did not know of the attack on me. Two servants sent an assassin to my camp without his knowledge. Therefore, Shou Lung's punishment is complete. I will call an end to this war, keeping only the lands I have conquered.'"
Batu stared at Koja for several minutes, shocked by what the lama claimed. Though the general had no doubt that Shou Lung employed assassins as diplomatic instruments, he could not believe an imperial servant would take such a drastic step without the Divine One's knowledge.
Finally, seeing that Koja was again scrutinizing him, the general looked toward Shou Kuan and said, "Even if I believed this lie, it would not be worth a single foot of Shou territory." Batu pointed at Koja's starving horse. "Within two weeks, your horses will not be fit to ride. Tell Yamun Khahan that if I were him, I would attack soon."
The lama frowned, clearly puzzled. "You will not consider the khahan's offer?"
"There is nothing to consider," Batu replied. He turned his horse away, indicating the parlay was over.
The lama did not leave. "Please! The khahan is not lying about your assassin. You must agree or thousands of men will die needlessly."
Batu looked at Koja out of the corner of his eye. "If the khahan wishes his men to live, they may surrender and the emperor will take them as slaves."
Koja sighed, exasperated. "The Tuigan are not the only ones who will die."
"That does not matter," the Shou general replied coldly, regarding the priest with an icy stare. "My men are ready to die whenever I command it." Batu motioned to the guards. "Send him back to his master."
A soldier took Koja's reins. After the guard had led the messenger away, Pe and Batu's subordinate generals rode to his side. "What did he want?" asked the adjutant.
"There isn't time to repeat it," Batu replied. "We must erect our wall tonight. The barbarians will attack tomorrow. Go and tell the loggers to bring their poles forward, then meet me at my tent."
"As you order," Pe replied.
Batu quickly assigned supervisory duties to his subordinate generals, then rode to the kilns and asked for a report. The result was disappointing. There were only enough bricks to build a wall two feet high. Nevertheless, a two-foot barrier was better than none at all. If the wall was built on the far edge of the ditch, the men standing in the trench would have nearly four feet of cover. Batu ordered the officer in charge to prepare the bricks for transport.
After leaving the kilns, Batu turned toward his tent. By the time the general arrived, dusk was falling. He paused and looked down toward Shou Kuan. Already, thousands of torches were burning in the Shou trench.
The general went inside the pavilion and found Pe waiting. While Batu's soldiers labored at the wall, the general from Chukei reviewed each unit's condition, formulated his battle plan, and issued written orders. Even with his wall, Batu was far from certain of victory. He was determined that his chances would not be fouled this time by a lack of communication or a misunderstood order.
By the time dawn came, Batu and Pe had finished their plans. Though the adjutant could not keep from yawning, the general was far from tired. Anticipation of the coming battle invigorated him. He fastened his scabbard onto his belt, then led the way out of the tent.
"Dispatch the orders, Pe," the general said. "I'm going down to inspect our wall." He mounted his horse and rode down the hill.
As he had hoped, the wall had been completed in a single evening. The men had not had time to mortar the bricks into place, but the wall would stop arrows all the same. The sharpened poles had been placed at a forty-five-degree angle in front of the wall. They were spaced every two feet, close enough to impale any horse charging between them.
The commander of Hai Yuan's army rode close to Batu.
"The men did well, did they not?"
"Yes," Batu answered. "They are to be commended."
"Let us hope our soldiers fight as well as they build," the general said, nodding toward the city walls.
As Batu had expected, thousands of barbarians stood along the top of Shou Kuan's fortifications. They were dressed in their armor and carried their bows in plain sight. The remainder of the barbarians, Batu suspected, sat astride their horses in the streets behind the gate. When the gates opened, they would charge out in a long, seemingly endless column and the battle would begin.
Batu turned to a messenger. "Have the officers prepare their men for battle. We won't have to wait much longer."
The Tuigan, however, did not attack right away. An hour passed, then two. The barbarians remained on the wall, ready for battle, but the gates did not open.
The sun crept higher in the sky and the day grew warmer. Exhausted from the long night of labor, pengs began to nap behind the wall. Officers walked the line, yelling at their men and beating them to keep them awake. Even Batu, still expecting the barbarians to charge out at any moment, yawned and struggled to keep his eyes from closing.
Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon to evening. Still, the Tuigan did not attack. Finally, as the dim purples of twilight began to creep across the rolling hills, the gate opened.
Instead of a mass of charging cavalry, however, all that issued from the city was the lama, Koja. He carried the same flag of truce he had carried yesterday. Batu was surprised the Tuigan leader had sent the messenger out again, but he was also curious as to what the khahan had to say now that the wall had been built. The general dispatched a dozen guards to escort the lama through the fortifications.
With Pe and his subcommanders following close behind, Batu met Koja as soon as he crossed the trench line. As the lama approached within speaking distance, he said, "I bring words of praise from Yamun Khahan. He says that the Shou build walls faster than any of the peoples he has fought."
"I did not build the wall to impress the khahan," Batu snapped. "I built it to keep him caged."
Koja ignored the terse response. "The khahan wishes you to know that he and his men eat well enough on the milk of their mares and the blood of their stallions. He says that when the horses grow too weak to fight, they will be slaughtered and used to feed his men."
The lama paused, looking to the generals of Hai Yuan and Wak'an in search of the apprehension he could not read on Batu's face. He did not find it. Both men were shrewd enough not to reveal their feelings to the enemy.
Koja continued, "The khahan says he will test the strength of your wall at his leisure. Perhaps he will attack tonight, while your men lie sound asleep, recovering from their many hours of labor. Perhaps he will attack many months from now, when the cold autumn rains come and your men grow ill from sleeping in the mud. Perhaps he will wait until the winter snows, when your men huddle with frozen hands and feet around burning dung, while his men eat and drink in the comfort of the city's warm houses."
"Tell the khahan that Shou can build houses as well as walls," Batu countered, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "The flesh of his horses will rot before we freeze. Tell him that whenever he wishes to fight, we will be ready."
Koja nodded, as if he had expected no other response. "Perhaps fighting will not be necessary," he said, reaching into his robes.
Pe, Hai Yuan, and Wak'an drew their swords and urged their mounts forward to shield Batu. "Please!" Koja said, slowly withdrawing an ebony tube. "There is nothing but paper inside. Let me show you."
The three men looked to their commander for instruction. Batu nodded his permission. To the lama, he said, "Open it."
Koja slowly opened the tube and withdrew two sheets of paper. "Read these," he said, handing them to Pe. "They prove that the khahan is telling the truth about the assassin."
Pe backed his horse several steps and handed the papers to Batu. In the fading light, it was difficult to make out the writing, so it took a few moments to read the first letter. It was addressed to Yamun Khahan and was from a spy in the summer palace. It reported Batu's appointment as General of the Northern Marches and his subsequent disappearance. The letter also named Kwan Chan Sen and Ju-Hai Chou as the two men who had sent the assassin after the khahan.
The general passed the letter to his subcommanders, then looked at the second paper. He immediately recognized Qwo's calligraphy. His heart pounded wildly. Forcing himself to remain composed, he read Wu's account of recovering the first letter and her identification of Ting Mei Wan as the spy who had written it. At the end of the account, Batu noted his wife's signature and the stain of dried blood next to it.
When he looked up, the general asked, "Where did you get these letters?"
"From a dead man," Koja replied simply. "As you can see, the khahan is telling the truth about the assassin."
"Perhaps, and perhaps not," scoffed the general from Wak'an. "This document could easily be a forgery."
"It isn't," Batu replied, passing the second sheet of paper to him. "I recognize the calligraphy."
Wak'an read the letter quickly, his face blanching with shock.
While his subordinates read the letter, Batu fought to conceal the distress it had caused him. His stomach ached with concern for his wife and children. He wanted nothing more than to take his horse and ride to Tai Tung to see what had happened to his family. Batu tried to put such thoughts out of his mind, for he was a soldier and knew better than to allow his feelings to interfere with his duty. Forcing himself to ignore the worry in his heart, Batu looked back to Koja.
"This is all very interesting, but it changes nothing," the general said, tightening his face to keep from showing his emotions. "Even if I had the right, I would not yield a single foot of Shou territory to your master."
Koja nodded in understanding. "That will not be necessary. In his infinite generosity and wisdom, the khahan will accept a different form of tribute. He will allow Shou Lung to retain the lands he has conquered, but you must give him the men who sent the assassin."