Chapter Three: In Which Jaliqui and Chambui Go on a Raid

Jaliqui awoke from the dream as it dribbled from her thoughts. Whatever it had been about, it must have been a bad one for her bedding was soaked in sweat. Her arm felt for Chambui next to her, but she wasn't there. This wasn't their cot. This wasn't their yurt. Her heart pounding, Jaliqui stared at the darkness of the curved ceiling, its thin timber ribs vaguely outlined by the orange glow from the iron braziers. She heard Maral crying.

"Little sister," Jaliqui called in a hoarse voice. "What's wrong?"

"I must tell Mama!" Maral said weakly.

Sheets ruffled as Maral climbed up. Dressed in a white nightgown, her pale, slender, red-haired figure ambled through the beaded curtain to outside.

"Sister!" Jaliqui cried and then cursed. Every muscle ached, but let it never be said that she would let her sister wander off into the cold alone. She rolled out of bed and wobbled as she stood on uncertain legs. The knot on the back of her head throbbed angrily; her brains sloshed like soup in a bowl. Her eyesight as though she were drunk. She managed to make it outside before kneeling over and retching into the snow.

"Jaliqui-Husun!" cried a sentry, gripping her around the waist to steady her. Jaliqui didn't bother resisting: without his aid she knew she'd topple.

"Where's Maral?" she gasped, though he was already walking her across towards Mother An-Zan's yurt. A breeze chilled through her gown. The snow stung her bare feet. It wasn't far, but by the time they reached the curtained entrance, she felt as if she'd just woken from a nap and had to remind herself why she wanted to come here. Youta had said she may be forgetful for a while.

A small central fire kept the large, conical interior well lit. Maral was already sitting on the bed beside An-Zan, hugging her and clutching at her blue silk robe as she wept, her long orange-red hair hiding her bruised face.

Though An-Zan was Jaliqui's birth mother, she shared no blood with Maral. But this didn't matter to An-Zan: she treated all of Jungdu Khan's children as though they were her own. Though strands of white streaked her long black hair, and she'd grown plump from birthing, she was still handsome for a woman close to forty.

An-Zan smiled serenely and nodded at the sentry, who helped Jaliqui to her side. An-Zan then wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, and though Jaliqui was a woman, not a child, she rested her head on her mother's soft shoulder. A slave offered her a mug of mare's milk, and after a few sips the burning in her throat subsided. The warm air smelled of rosewater and jasmine incense. Jaliqui closed her eyes.

"It's all right, Baby Scarlet. It's all right," An-Zan said. "I've been having dreams too. I'd like you to tell me yours."

And so Maral did. Listening to her describe the spires of iron and glass, the silver bird and the ghostly wail made Jaliqui's skin crawl. At the mention of the temple of the crucified goddess, a tiny, inexplicable fervor tugged at Jaliqui's soul. When Maral finally came to the earth shattering thunder and the fire and the blazing toadstool cloud looming over the charred ruins of the massive city, Jaliqui trembled.

An-Zan stroked Jaliqui's short hair. "And how about you tell me your dream, Little Jali?"

Jaliqui nodded. There was no use lying. Her arms crossed Maral's as she hugged her mother too. The memories gushed through her as she spoke.

"I . . . I was a man. I was sitting in the skull of a giant metal bird, like the one you saw, Maral. I had levers and wheels, and I used them to tell the bird what to do. And I saw the city below me. It . . . it was huge! A hundred times bigger than Yubka. The glass towers, they were like trees in a forest that stretched to the horizon! And then a second sun burst from the ground, and I saw the toadstool and . . ." Trailing off, she remembered her mortal terror as the bird shredded around her and erupted into flames. Engulfed in fiery agony, she'd screamed as she fell. That man she'd been had had a family--a wife and two daughters. She could see their pale foreign faces in her mind.

With sudden shame, Jaliqui realized she was crying. Her tears staining her mother's robe. Reflexively, she reached up for her neck, but she'd left her talisman to the Goddess Itugen beside the cot. She felt very vulnerable.

"What does it mean, Mama?" Jaliqui croaked.

Her mother hmm'd. Born the daughter of a banner lord in the Empire, An-Zan had been well-tutored before being married off in tribute to Jungdu Khan. As such, she was an accomplished soothsayer and natural philosopher. Jaliqui awaited her wisdom.

"This is a sick land," An-Zan said finally. "Many centuries ago, the toadstool clouds unleashed great poison into the air and earth, tainting all that live here. Most people don't get the dreams, but those that do are . . . sensitive to that past pain." She shrugged, her shoulder nudging up Jaliqui's cheek. "Or maybe the dreams mean something else. Who can say?"

"My brother's a fool for coming here," Jaliqui said.

"Perhaps," her mother agreed. "But he is our Khan. And he sees more than we do. His dreams are intenser. Only Youta's guidance keeps him from going mad."

It's not working, Jaliqui almost said but held her tongue.

"But why has he led us here, Mama?" Maral asked, her sleepy voice making her sound closer to six than sixteen. "He says he's looking for 'the tower,' but he won't explain what that is or why he has to find it."

"I don't think he knows," An-Zan said. "But he's seen it in his dreams, a broken spire in the middle of a frozen sea. The gods spoke to him during his sickness, and they ordained that he find it and go into it and uncover its secrets."

An-Zan sighed, and then kissed Maral and Jaliqui each on the top of their heads. "Pray he finds it soon, my children, for I fear this land is poisoning us."

***

There were no more of the dreams, but having a bruised brain was no fun.

Aside from the nausea, confusion and the odd mood swings, Jaliqui had to relinquish command of her Baavgai Moon Cavalry to Chambui, her soul sister. It was humiliating. Jaliqui should have been out screening for the horde or leading raids on the Bog Men villages, but instead, she was forced to ride in a royal caravan wagon and endure its slow, rolling drudge through the icy marshland with nothing to do but listen to the boring prattle of old women, small children and other relations unfit to sit in a saddle.

At least during the nights, after the horde set up their camps, she could share her bed with Chambui. But after a week, when she began teasing Jaliqui about how she was becoming a pillow wife, Jaliqui decided that she had recovered enough.

The next morning, the low rising sun shone lazily through the chilly fog, blurring the snowy landscape with a dreamlike sheer. Squatting on a stool, Jaliqui breakfasted on steak and eggs and watched as her eunuchs dressed and saddled Boo Boo. They'd already fastened the gold-plated helmet onto the giant moon bear's head, and now they nervously strapped on the gleaming steel-scaled lamellar armor along his massive chest and flanks. Boo-Boo growled menacingly, but Jaliqui had him well trained. He hadn't killed a slave in months.

Accompanied by a half dozen of his kheshig, Jungso Khan rode up. Jaliqui gave him a cursory nod as he dismounted his horse and stepped up beside her, his bodyguards remaining a polite distance away. She and her twin were dressed in almost identical wool deels of blue and gold--the colors of Husun royalty--and along with their clothes, they also shared a similar lanky, wiry build and the same sharp chin and prominent cheekbones that they'd inherited from An-Zan's southern blood. Her brother walked with a slight stoop now, and his face was perpetually lined with aches: reminders of his nearly mortal wounds at the hands of his treacherous uncle.

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Jungso's brown eyes were still clear, though, but they seemed to stare at things too distant, at things that weren't there. Jungso had glimpsed the other side of the vale and had returned as something not quite the brother she had grown up with. It was Youta's fault as well. He'd healed her brother, but he'd also encouraged his fever dreams and filled his head with foreign superstition.

"How are you feeling?" Jungso asked.

"Sometimes I get a little woozy," she admitted, chewing on a bit of fat, "but I'll go mad if I have to sit in that cursed wagon another day and listen to another one of Aunt Ergene's stories."

He chuckled at that. "It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't tell the same ones over and over again. Of course, for her I think it's always the first time."

Passing her empty plate to a slave, she stood and smiled. "And it's hard to understand her, what with having no teeth."

His grin slowly faded. "Be careful. The Bog Men are primitive and disorganized, but Youta says we shouldn't grow complacent."

There he was with 'Youta' again. One would think the ancient priest was the true Khan of the Husun.

"Chambui hasn't lost a single warrior in her raids," she said. "Not that the savages have much worth raiding. We can't keep this up, brother. Our supply train from Zelüzar is getting too long, and even if we stripped this land clean and stole everything the Bog Men have, our horde would be starving in a week."

Jungso grimaced. "Our logistics isn't that bad. Three weeks, maybe. A month if we tighten our belts. And if it got bad enough, we could send most of our numbers back---including your bears. They're meat-hogs, and frankly we don't need them here." He shook his head. "But the tower's close. I know it. I've dreamed it. I promise you, we'll be heading out of this wasteland before the next full moon."

Jaliqui touched at her talisman and considered mentioning her and Maral's shared dream, but before she could reply, Chambui rode up on her moon bear, Dabana. On Chambui's gloved hand was perched one of her falcons, and both she and the bird looked down from the great height of her saddle. Chambui wasn't foolish enough to sneer openly at her Khan, but Jaliqui could spot the disapproval in her hazel eyes.

The falcon remained dutifully still as Chambui swung over a willowy leg and hopped from the bear to the mud. Even on the ground, she towered over both Husuns. She bowed slightly to Jungso, the movement sweeping forward her long black hair, but she spoke to Jaliqui.

"I'm glad you are well, Princess-Commander. We await your orders."

Jungso smirked at the use of her official title. They'd tried to keep it a secret, but Jaliqui was pretty sure he knew she and Chambui were more than best friends. He'd never even discussed arranging a marriage for her, and for that she was grateful. Mad though he might be, her twin was still a good brother.

"Eju protect you both," he said. "And be sure to bring back plenty of scalps. Youta can use them for his spells."

Chambui looked at Jaliqui and rolled her eyes, letting her know exactly what she thought of Youta's foreign devil magic. But they would do as he bid them, though Chambui was more into collecting ears.

Jaliqui and her brother embraced, and Jungso left to conduct horde business. As Chambui watched him and his kheshig ride away into the camp, Jaliqui hugged her from behind, wrapping her arms across the cold steel scales of her lamellar cuirass. Chambui was almost a hand taller than her, but she managed to hook her chin over her armored spaulders and nuzzle into her thick black mane. The hair was fine and bore a slight kink, a trait that along with Chambui's dark skin, full lips and long-limbed stature, showed her Wärkama ancestry.

Jaliqui breathed deeply of her musk. Chambui murmured contentedly and turned and kissed her. She tasted faintly of pepper.

"So, what fun have you got planned for us today, Cham?" Jaliqui asked.

Chambui smiled crookedly and held up the falcon still perched on her gloved hand. "Ask Tarkhi."

Jaliqui grinned and leaned into the bird's face. "So, what did you find, Tarkhi? Tell Mama Jali what you found!"

The falcon's hooked beak nibbled the air before he spoke. His words were high-pitched and broken up with little squeaking squawks.

"Small village . . . three hour ride north west west . . . big round huts on sticks . . . big stone hut in center . . . hundred plus men!"

"Good Tarkhi! Very, very good!" Chambui said, stroking the back of the falcon's neck. He preened in appreciation. From a wicker cage danging from Dabana's saddle, she drew out a field mouse which she tossed to the ground. The rodent began scurrying away.

"Yum yum, Tarkhi! Yum yum!"

"Yum yum!" it repeated.

From her glove, Tarkhi swooped down, gripped the mouse in his talons and pecked it to bits. Chambui and Jaliqui watched him enjoy his meal.

"The other birds gave similar reports," Chambui said. "From past raids, we know the big round huts are probably granaries, most likely stashed with rice. I have no idea what the 'stone hut' is. Anyway, I expect this will be another clean sweep. Trap them and kill them."

Jaliqui nodded. "Good, I owe these savages some payback. Believe me, having a bruised brain is no fun."

Chambui laughed. "Believe me, I believe you! You've only been bitching about it all week." She huffed, and her face grew serious. "I'm just glad Maral saved you. I . . . I couldn't bear to lose you, Jali."

Jaliqui leaned into her embrace and shuddered. She didn't even want to think what would have happened if those deformed Bog Men had captured her alive. They were abominations. They needed to die.

"Let's move out," Jaliqui said finally.

"At once, Princess-Commander," Chambui said with a smile.

Jaliqui's eunuchs strapped on her lamellar armor and retrieved her saber, lance and recurve bow. In addition to the same gear, Chambui took her shotel and a quiver of jarids--weapons of her mother's people. There was no need to lead all three companies of the Baavgai, so Jaliqui chose only sixty bears, supported with one hundred light cavalry. Chambui assured her such a force would be more than enough to overrun Bog Men rabble.

As Jaliqui led the party past the edge of the camp, she spotted Maral in the distance sparring with Shiggi. Jaliqui and Chambui waited until the redheaded girl had knocked the boy into the mud before shouting their cheers, which were then multiplied by the cavalry behind them. Maral's laughter echoed in the morning air, and she waved with her wooden sword.

Their bears side by side, the lovers shared a grin.

"I'm glad she's becoming her old self again," Jaliqui said. "I was getting worried."

"You want to take her on the raid?"

Jaliqui thought about it and shook her head. With a hand she signaled for the raiding party to advance, and beneath her Boo Boo swayed gently as they moved across the frozen wetlands. The scales of his armor jingled faintly like little wind chimes.

"She's still terrible with a bow," Jaliqui explained. "It'll be a while yet before she's even 'acceptable' again."

"That's a shame. She used to be better than you."

Jaliqui feigned outrage. "That's a lie. No one is."

"Remember that crazy farmer out in Khokh Oi?"

"It was raining."

"I made the shot."

"You were a lot closer than me!"

"I bet I can bag more Bog Men than you."

"No you can't. I'll beat you even with a bruised brain."

"How long are you going to use that excuse?"

"Until I stop feeling drunk half the time," Jaliqui said and laughed.

Today was going to be a good day.