The Thunder of the Plains - a Lao Che Khanate tale

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

PROLOGUE

Sons of the Steppe

Two things matter to a Lao Che: his horse and his honor.
-Sun Bao


The snow was red with blood. The wind brought the wailing of fresh widows.
'What names do you want on the slab?'
'No names.' my brother answered. ' Just write: Sons of the Steppe Wolf.' The stone mason nodded and turned to his work, chisel still in hand.
Zhen Jin was ours. I was but a boy when it happened, just ten springs old. Many of our soldiers fought and died there. So did the enemy. Their bodies were piled up in a big mound, in the middle of the city square.
'Khanzada!' a trooper announced. 'We bring you the enemy commander!'
The captured general looked very much like the typical peasant from the mountains of Chu Wei, thrown inside a noble's armor, too big for his shoes. Nothing distinguished about him.
'Not so dignified now.Who's that?' ' I whispered to the girl beside me, my future wife.
'Cong Odawara, one of the Five Nobles.' she replied.
My brother stared the Huang noble down. Our warriors pushed the prisoner to his knees.
'Fool...' my brother addressed him with a calm voice. 'You had Rocket Launchers yet you allowed yourself to be captured alive. Why?'
Cong Odawara looked up, his eyes blurry, his Fu Manchu mustache messed up by the violence.
'I was waiting for you to get close so I could smell your flesh burning.'
'Heh... Where you're going, you will smell only that!'
They dragged him away. The Huang noble did not struggle. I felt my brother's hand on my shoulder.
'Look at them, Tong.' he pointed to the crowd gathered in the square, beside the mountain of bodies.
There were women and children there. Also the old and the sick, what remained of the populace. I saw fear in their eyes.
'You know why they have to die?' he asked me.
'Because they're weak?'
'No!' my brother, the Khanzada, answered. 'Because they are not Lao Che.'
The warriors unsheathed their swords. The women cried. We did not stayed for the slaughter. My brother called us to the gates, where our dead were lined up.
'Now look at them, brother. The Fu Li* sacrificed themselves so that we can get in the city.'
The bodies of the Lao Che were always hardest to look at. The air smelled of blood, war and suffering. My brother's voice was still calm.
'We must reclaim our native lands. That is all that matters. They died for that purpose. Each and every one of them gave their lives to protect you. Why is that, you think?'
I looked up at him, his face still obscured by the shadow of his helmet's visor.
'Because I'm your brother?'
His expression changed, became hard, as if the question itself was an insult.
'No, Tong it's not because you're my blood. They are the sons of the steppe. They lived by the same code as we do. We are not above them, even if we are descendant from the Great Wolf himself. Never forget this, Tong. Even if your name is Lao Che, you are not above them.'


Thus spoke my brother, Gengis, the future Khan.
I never forgot those words.



* Fu (meaning archer) Li (meaning light) are light troops of the Lao Che, armed with curved swords and bows


Mongol © chingybta

Chapter One

The Wounded Jaguar

For every slight you suffer, rivers of blood will flow.
-Lao Che to his daughter


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