He turned to the Master of Sinanju, a wolfish grin splitting his pleasant visage.
"Like the old days, eh?"
"It is good to ride with Mongols," intoned the Master of Sinanju. "For too long I have been burdened by the soft ways of the West."
Chapter 23
In the tan-colored desert home, Remo squatted on the floor, looking around. The interior of the house-which was built of mud brick-was surprisingly sumptuous. The floor was a profusion of Oriental rugs, and damask hangings covered the walls. There was no furniture to speak of-just ornate portable chests of drawers containing the household goods. They made Remo think of the missing Master of Sinanju.
They sat on a kind of low brick patio built into one inner wall because it was heated. The heat came from a brick stove nearby. A pipe carried smoke and heat to the shelf.
Remo accepted a cup of tea after first turning down mare's milk and a heated wine Kula called kaoliang. Fang Yu also took tea.
As they sat, Kula fell into long and earnest conversation with the only inhabitant of the house, a middle-aged woman named Udbal.
"What are they saying?" Remo asked Fang Yu between sips.
"Not understand Mongo talk," Fang Yu said. "Mongos not like us Chinese. Talk different, act different. During winter they do nothing except stay indoors and tend to their horses and sheep. They not grow food, believing meat is for men and grass for animals. They call Chinese people 'food-growers.' "
"I've heard worse said," Remo said dryly.
Finally the Mongol woman went to tend to a wok that sat in a hole atop the stove. Kula turned to Remo and Fang Yu.
"This is very strange," he muttered, low-voiced. "The woman says the men all have gone north, following a Mongol horseman known as Boldbator."
"Who is Boldbator?" Remo asked.
Kula shook his head. "I do not know him. But it is said he rides with a legend, who is called the Master of Sinanju."
Remo said nothing.
Fang Yu looked toward him. "The Master of Sinanju is a fable old men talk about in China, and Mongolia too," she explained for Remo's benefit.
"Is that so?" Remo said, tasting his tea. He had had to keep the woman from putting clotted milk and what looked like a lump of butter into it. It tasted salty, which was better for him than if there was sugar in it. Still, he'd never heard of salting tea.
"Did you not say the man you seek is a Korean?" Fang Yu asked suddenly.
"What of it?" Remo said guardedly.
"The Master of Sinanju of legend is supposed to be Korean, that's why."
"Coincidence," Remo said. "I'm looking for a different Korean entirely."
Fang Yu looked at him in owlish silence.
"It is said the Golden Horde rides again," Kula said, his eyes reflective as he stared into his steaming kaoliang wine. "They follow this Boldbator. Call him Khan."
"What!" Fang Yu exploded. She turned to Remo. "Remo, what you know of this?"
"Nothing. I'm looking for someone else entirely."
"The Masters of Sinanju were greatest assassins in history," Kula said. "For as long as they stood beside the throne of the khan, the khanates were safe. But Ogodai, son of Lord Genghis, made the mistake of invading Korea. And although the village of Sinanju was deemed sacred from conquest, this angered the Master of Sinanju at that time. He withdrew his support of the khan and so the empire began to decline."
"Nice fairy tale," Remo said.
"Do you tell the truth to me?" Fang Yu pressed.
"Why wouldn't I?" Remo said guiltily. He hated to lie, but he couldn't afford to tell the truth. US-Chinese relations were at stake.
"It is said that the Golden Horde rides toward Karakorum," Kula said thoughtfully, staring into his wine.
Fang Yu gasped.
"Where's that?" Remo asked.
"In what the Chinese call Outer Mongolia," Kula said proudly. "It was the imperial city in the days of Genghis Khan. Until that traitorous grandson of Lord Genghis, Kublai, swayed by its citified comforts, moved the seat of Mongol power to conquered Peking." He spat on the rug with great violence. "A fool's mistake," he added. "The food-growers took it back and razed Karakorum when they had the chance."
Fang Yu shifted closer to Remo. Remo put his arms around her protectively.
"It is said that in the days when the Master of Sinanju was a favorite of the khans," Kula went on, "they were attended by lesser warriors, who were called night tigers. These night tigers dressed in black and were fierce warriors, afraid of nothing."
Silence filled the house. Only the fussing of the Mongol woman as she fed yak chips into her stove disturbed it.
"Have you ever heard of this legend, white tiger?" Kula asked suddenly.
"No," Remo said quietly. Fang Yu studied his profile in the smoky light.
Kula grunted. "I yearn to ride with the Golden Horde, if these tales are true."
"You have bargain with us!" Fang Yu hissed.
"A bargain is a bargain, but blood is blood. My blood calls to me in the voices of my ancestors."
Fang Yu started to say something, but Remo quieted her with a squeeze of his hand.
"Is Karakorum in the direction we're going in?" Remo asked.
"It is," Kula admitted.
"We'll ride with you. Maybe we'll find my Korean on the way."
Silence.
"There is a better way," Fang Yu ventured.
"What's that?" Remo wondered.