The Tiger-Headed Horseman Read online

  Tengis had been learning applied arithmetic all morning. There were only three pupils in the class – Tengis, Odval and Bankher. Bankher paid little attention to the teacher, pupils or just about anything. His parents ran the Khem plant in Baatarulaan. He had a swagger and aplomb unbecoming to a lad almost twenty years old. He also wore clothes beyond his years. Whereas Tengis wore professorial garb, Bankher wore tight black trousers pulled down so hard around his waist that they barely left his modesty intact. He wore colourful canvas shoes, a white T-shirt under a black sleeveless woollen jumper and a hat that would have suited an aged crooning singer had it been properly proportioned; Bankher's version was as small and tight around his head as his trousers were around his bottom. On his fingers Bankher wore a variety of outlandishly gaudy and oafishly expensive rings. No matter how silly he looked – though he thought he was the very model of a modern major-general layabout, he did have an uncanny ability to add, subtract, multiply and divide. This skill was particularly adept when the problems posed related to weights and measures cross-referenced with going market rates, client desperation and causing unhappiness. Despite detesting his classmate, Tengis found it astonishing to watch his mind in action.

  Today Bankher was exceedingly addled from a party the previous night; he sat slumped in the corner at the back of the classroom. Their teacher, Mr Clumphod, was only too painfully aware that his wards had far superior mental agility than he. When the three arrived at class most of the time there would be a note pinned to the blackboard stating that Mr Clumphod had been called away on urgent business to see Principal Ahgresor. The note would ask them to open their books where they had left off last time and continue to work until the class was over. The book in question was over a thousand pages long. They had all finished it long ago, so afraid was Mr Clumphod of attending his own class. It didn't matter to them. Bankher liked to catch up on sleep and it gave Tengis and Odval an opportunity to continue career-counselling one another.

  ‘I have got to find the link between me and Chinggis,’ said Tengis.

  ‘Are you sure there is an actual link?’ said Odval. She knew she was stepping into dangerous territory doubting Tengis on matters relating to Chinggis. ‘Do you really need there to be a link? You have such a brilliant mind; you will succeed no matter what.’

  ‘It's not as simple as that,’ said Tengis, ignoring his friend's cynicism about his link to Chinggis. ‘It's not just about me, it's about how other people see me. At the moment they see me as a weirdo. Sure, they see me as a smart guy but I'm not from a well-connected family. I don't have money and influence like you and your family. If I don't have a degree, how am I going to be perceived as professional – even though in my view the degrees they hand out these days aren't worth the paper they're written on. It's degrees that people in business and politics look for. I'm better than their stupid education system. I need another angle. I know how things work. I know what people blindly value. But I am nothing at the moment. No matter how book-smart I am, they'll only ever see some boffin kid. They will never see my potential.’

  ‘Look,’ said Odval, ‘don't look for bad things in the good that you do.’

  ‘That's the problem,’ replied Tengis, ‘you're the only person who sees, let alone understands, the good I do now and could do for the whole of Ongolium. I need to prove that I am linked to Chinggis.’

  ‘Forgive me,’ said Odval, ‘but are you really sure that is the wisest thing to do? What makes you so certain there is a connection?’

  ‘You have to trust me on this,’ said Tengis, trying hard not to get annoyed. ‘There have been too many signs, too many dreams, too many coincidences! It started as an occasional vision where I would be embroiled in some fantastic situation whereby the country depended on my courage and ability. The dreams became more frequent and a voice started to guide me through the dreams, explaining things . . .’

  ‘This is what I mean,’ Odval interrupted. ‘You have no real evidence.’

  ‘Let me finish!’ snapped Tengis. ‘The voice visits me more often now. Almost every night I hear him and sometimes even during the day when I am thinking hard. It is encouraging me to follow my instinct and unleash myself on the world. It says that I have the ability to become emperor.’

  ‘Tengis!’ shouted Odval. ‘That's crazy talk.’

  ‘It's so easy for you,’ said Tengis sarcastically, ‘you were born privileged. I have had nothing and now that I have an opportunity to do something good, something big, you try and take away my hopes and aspirations. How very typical of your lot.’ Tengis waved his hand dismissively in Odval's general direction.

  ‘How can you say that?’ said Odval. She was deeply offended. ‘I have always been here for you. I have always been devoted to you and admired your confidence and capacity for thought.’

  Tengis calmed himself. ‘I will find evidence.’ He pulled some documents from his bag. Bankher stirred in the corner, then returned to snoring. ‘Here, help me with these.’

  Odval helped him open several large sheets of paper. They spread them out over their desks.

  ‘What on earth is this?’ asked Odval.

  ‘I have been doing some digging,’ said Tengis. ‘This here is my family tree going back in time. This paper here shows Chinggis's family tree down through the generations. I drew it up myself.’

  ‘It is so complicated,’ said Odval.

  ‘Chinggis had many children,’ said Tengis. ‘By my reckoning he fathered thousands as he built his empire across the world. That is why I must be related to him. Some of the children must have been in Ongolium. One of them must have had a child who had children and grandchildren of whom one was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. I just have to find the link.’

  Tengis stared hard at the papers in front of him. The family tree for Chinggis measured four metres wide, and Tengis's writing was so small as to be barely legible. He pored through the names, sporadically shifting focus to his own more modest tree.

  ‘Have you found anything?’ asked Odval. She was a little concerned that Tengis was taking his link with Chinggis too seriously. She knew that the chances of finding a link were slim at best; she knew that finding proof that he was a reincarnation of Chinggis was utterly impossible, wasn't it?

  ‘There is nothing on my mother's side,’ said Tengis. He excitedly explained the maternal family history. It dated back to the correct epoch but there was little grandiose about it. ‘The voice insists that the connection is on my father's side.’ Tengis had not even met his father, yet he ardently awaited his return. Until then there would be no means of finding any information that could shed any light on his claim. Tengis frantically searched the papers looking for clues, his hands moving from entry to entry on the page.

  ‘Tengis,’ said Odval, ‘are you sure about this? Have you been working too hard or something? I'm a little concerned – shall we go back to your mother?’

  ‘Shut up!’ barked Tengis, suddenly losing his cool. ‘Stupid little rich girl. I have never been more sure of anything in my life. It is plain and simple. I am Chinggis Khaan. The voice in my head has told me so. I am Chinggis!’

  ‘I want to help,’ said Odval. Tears began to fill her eyes. She had never had reason to doubt her friend. She knew that he was not being logical and he had always been logical. Tengis's actions and apparent delusion bore no logic whatsoever. Odval wanted him to stop. ‘Please, let me take you home and we can talk about it there.’

  ‘What do you know?’ ranted Tengis. ‘You have always been spying on me, trying to steal my ideas, my thoughts. You're jealous of me. You might have all the wealth and riches that make you popular in this hellish place but secretly you have only ever been my friend so that you could rob me of my philosophy and ideology. Well, you can't! I'm glad I've had a chance to finally see you for who you truly are. I am Chinggis Khaan and you are my enemy.’

  A chair scraped gently behind them. Turning, Tengis and Odval saw Bankher craning forward t
o look at the papers, a wide smirk upon his face.

  ‘Very interesting,’ said Bankher calmly. ‘Voices in your head? And you think you're Chinggis, do you? That is interesting.’

  ‘I am!’ yelled Tengis, squaring up to Bankher across the desk. ‘I am and you will come to regret your doubt. Both of you.’ He stood rooted to the spot, staring madly at them both. He was ready to attack either or both of them.

  ‘Good,’ replied Bankher. He casually flipped a coin and put it in his pocket. ‘Very good. Let's see what the good people of Baatarulaan think about your claims. I'm sure the Fun Brigade would love to hear about this heresy, too. I think you'd best contact the Post Office. You're going to need to get your mail redirected to the House of Fun. Have a nice day now, freak.’

  ‘You wouldn't?’ said Odval.

  It was too late. Bankher had speedily crossed the floor and flown through the classroom doorway. Odval stared pityingly into her friend's eyes. Tengis was seething with rage and ready to fight.

  8

  By the time Tengis had run home from school his mother already knew. He knew that she knew because she was standing outside the front door looking very cross. He had never been in trouble before and had certainly never had his mother give him a hard time. Unbeknown to Tengis the school, informed by Bankher, had called to complain that her son had been inciting civil unrest. Unrest the school and Baatarulaan could cope with but not if it was civil.

  Mrs Khaan had also been contacted by Clown Oldortar, nominal leader of the Fun Brigade. Clown Oldortar was a large round man who, had things turned out differently, would have been naturally kind but whose job dictated that he be anything but and so he wasn't. He was concerned that her son had been being far too serious and not paying enough attention to humour and Khadism. He made it clear to her that they were very keen to meet such a morose fellow in order to teach him how to have more exuberance and embrace life more wholeheartedly.

  Odval had contacted Tengis's mother, too, in order to explain her concerns, tell her what it was her son had done and how he had behaved, particularly towards her. Mrs Khaan was a very worried and angry woman. None of this concerned Tengis; he was still furious about what he saw as Odval's betrayal.

  ‘Where have you been?’ asked Mrs Khaan.

  ‘I have been at school obviously,’ replied Tengis. ‘Where else would I normally be on a weekday morning?’

  ‘Less of your cheek, young man,’ said Mrs Khaan. ‘Why aren't you there now in that case and what is this I have been hearing about you? I brought you up better than to go about inciting hatred. Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in? Principal Ahgresor wants to expel you. Clown Oldortar wants to introduce you to his Clown School. You know that is only one step away from the House of Fun, don't you? As for Odval, how dare you speak like that to such a charming young lady. Where on earth are your manners?’

  ‘Mother,’ said Tengis. He drew himself together. It was about time she heard how he really felt about life and what he thought about her. ‘Do you honestly think I give a flying fig what school says? Do you think they have actually taught me anything during my entire time there? I have had to educate myself entirely on my own. They don't have any books, let alone teachers, that can help me. They focus on passing exams and fitting into society, a society I think is rotten. I am far wiser than they are!’ Tengis scarcely paused for breath before continuing his rant.

  ‘Clown Oldortar is nothing more than a thug with a badge and a big stick. Those Khadists don't have an original thought between them. They run Baatarulaan as they believe Khad would have wanted. Who could possibly have wanted the filth and debauchery they peddle? They take our money in taxes and spend it on bureaucrats and drug development. Have you any idea how addictive the new Khem is? Almost 60 per cent of the city's population is hooked on that stuff. It's just a way of us giving them even more money. They think they are so smart. I have ideas for the city. I could make this city a great place once more. I am far more intellectual than any Khadist. As for Odval, she betrayed me. She is rich and looks down on me. She thinks I am just an ordinary man but I tell you I am not an ordinary man, I am Chinggis Khaan.’

  ‘How can you say such things?’ implored Mrs Khaan. ‘Wise men talk about ideas, intellectuals about facts; the ordinary man talks about what he eats. You will soon starve if you carry on with this nonsense. What has got into you? Have I raised you badly? Is it because your father left?’

  ‘Leave him out of this!’ yelled Tengis. ‘He is a good man. What's more he will come back, I tell you!’

  ‘He's gone,’ said Mrs Khaan. ‘He left when you were still a child. He just couldn't cope with the responsibility of father-hood, he disappeared, and not with the Fun Brigade. Your father disappeared because he never really wanted us, or if he did he was more concerned with what he wanted for himself. I did, though. I have raised you, fed you and loved you as only a mother can, and yet you treat me this way?’

  ‘You!’ screamed Tengis. ‘Why is everything always about you? Have you not heard what I have been saying? This whole place is putrid. We are being treated like idiots. Somebody has to make a stand and do something before we degenerate any further. I am going to be that person. You'll see. One day you'll remember what I've said and maybe then you'll understand me. Until you do I cannot live under the same roof as you. So long as you put up with this way of life your home is as putrid as the gutters of Baatarulaan.’

  ‘Tengis!’ said Mrs Khaan. She had begun to cry. ‘My son, what are you saying?’

  ‘I'm leaving, Mother,’ said Tengis. He had started to calm himself. ‘I have a life to find. That life is certainly not here, not at the moment anyway. Don't cry for me. I will survive; I know how to stay alive. You will hold your head high once I have made things better. You will be proud of me.’

  ‘I am proud of you,’ sobbed Mrs Khaan. ‘Please, Tengis, please don't go. What will I do without you here? You might be able to survive but I don't know if I will.’

  ‘You have survived worse than this,’ said Tengis. He took his mother in his arms. ‘This is something I need to do. I am sorry if I have hurt you. I have to leave, I have to be what I am meant to be, I am destined for great things.’

  ‘What about Clown Oldortar?’ said Mrs Khaan. She knew that her son had his mind set. ‘He will be looking for you. He controls everything. How will you keep safe? Odval, you must contact Odval. You can't leave or go anywhere without speaking to her. Where are you going to go?’

  ‘I cannot tell you, Mother,’ said Tengis. ‘The less you know the easier it will be when you speak to Clown Oldortar. He won't hurt you. Odval will have to wait. Perhaps the passing of time will help her see that I am being logical, that I am Chinggis Khaan, that I am the great person she once believed me to be. Perhaps she will come to love me, even – perhaps not! My purpose transcends friendship. For the time being it transcends family, too.’

  9

  Lily had spent several days at her makeshift camp trying in vain to understand what it was that Chinggis had meant when he wrote: ‘A tiger wearing a bell will starve and a cat that likes to eat fresh fish will not go into the water; however, the distance between Heaven and Earth is no greater than one thought.’

  Her first task was to identify who it was that Chinggis was referring to. There were only city dwellers, herders and Outsiders.

  She surmised that the feline references related in some way to Baatarulaan. She had heard the elders often refer to the city's inhabitants as ‘fat cats’. That made sense – who else could it mean? Lily knew that city dwellers were far more showy and extravagant than her nomadic group. In Lily's opinion, the people who lived in the city were too lazy to fend for themselves. Her father had warned her against the corruption and base nature of those within Baatarulaan's walls. Still, he had also inferred that they did have riches far beyond anything any mere herder could ever expect. Lily's father and the elders actually shunned riches; so long as they had enough they knew that was enough. More
led to more problems. But riches were riches and would never lose their real appeal so long as humans breathed.

  However, Lily knew that the appeal of riches was greed and that, no matter how many riches she accumulated, greed would have kept her poor for ever; even the abundance of this world would not make her rich. It was an odd conundrum but Lily knew that living as a herder she was living on the side of the equation she preferred. City dwellers were welcome to the other and from what she had heard they wallowed and waddled in it each and every day. They certainly acted like the furry fat felines that occasionally took up with the nomadic group, always expecting to be lifted into carts when it came time to move on rather than walking anywhere! Fat cats of all kinds had an easy life.

  As for Outsiders, Lily had only ever heard of them in stories told by the elders to frighten the group's children. No one from the group had actually ever seen an Outsider or been further than a day or two's ride by horse from wherever the camp was based. That had never resulted in crossing or coming close to any borders. People knew better than to stray too far from Baatarulaan, no matter how much they disliked the urban sprawl. Indeed, no one had been outside Ongolium, let alone met an Outsider, for over a dozen generations.

  At least, that was the case in the real world. In the spirit world Lily had encountered many oddly dressed people who had strange customs. However, she knew that the words of Chinggis had to refer to the real world. As far as Lily was aware, Chinggis had never had the shamanic gift. No Outsiders existed in Lily's experience of the real world.

  Lily couldn't understand the Heaven and Earth reference. Although she spent an increasing amount of time in the spirit world, she had never thought of it as Heaven. She often wondered whether Heaven even existed; it did seem a far-fetched idea. Her time in her other world was interesting, wonderful even, but certainly not heavenly. It was full of challenges and surprises, and not always pleasant ones. There were people in that place that were anything but ethereal beings.