The Tiger-Headed Horseman Read online

  By the time of Lily's fourth night of camping, Lucky was becoming agitated. The horses in Ongolium are not like those found elsewhere. They are shorter, sturdier and more single-minded than their cousins in other lands. When an Ongolian horse is agitated everybody knows about it. Lucky had started stamping his front legs that afternoon. By the time evening had fallen into darkness he was listlessly jumping up and down on the spot. He whinnied loudly and snorted messily.

  ‘Shhh!’ said Lily. ‘Please, Lucky, we will go home soon, I promise. I just need a little more time trying to think about this.’ She stroked the nose of her faithful steed and nuzzled her face against his.

  Her actions appeared to appease Lucky, at least for the time being. He stopped being restless and relaxed back into his usual sensible, if slightly grumpy, self.

  Lily, as leader, had the pick of her group's horses. There were many fine stallions among the herd. Generally each person had at least two beasts to do their bidding. One horse was rarely sufficient if undertaking a longer journey. While Lucky was not the runt of the herd, neither was he among the equine in-crowd. For a breed of short horses he was one of the shortest. For a breed of single-minded horses he was most definitely one of the most bloody-minded. Lily could have chosen any of the horses, but she didn't. No matter how grumpy, stubborn or obstinate Lucky was, he more than made up for with his sense and sensibility. For Lily he had a charm that none of the more flighty fancy horses could ever attain. As Lily would reply to her steed's various detractors: ‘A donkey that carries me is worth more than a horse that kicks me.’ She was very sensible like that, and so was Lucky. Both lived on the periphery of their respective communities; they made perfect life partners.

  Having settled Lucky, Lily returned to her thinking. She decided that, since the answer wasn't readily coming to her around the campfire, then she would explore for it in the spirit world. She placed some logs on the fire to make sure she stayed warm during her visit. Sitting cross-legged next to the warmth, she glanced at Lucky knowingly. He nodded back to affirm that he would keep his eyes open. Returning to the fire, Lily gazed long and deep into its bright dancing flow. She sank into herself and began to slow her breathing. Her eyes remained open, staring at the glowing embers. Lily began to emit a strange noise. It was far from her usual voice and came from much deeper inside her. She began a slow chant. Lucky snorted casually as he watched his mistress fall into her trance. Lily chanted more loudly and slower: ‘Ooohhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm . . .’

  Her body resonated to the sound. She could sense her spine tingling and senses buzzing. Natural electricity began to pulse, rising from her tail bone, spreading its power throughout her abdomen and up through her neck. As the electricity increased, a force began to build inside her. It grew with each pulse, welling upwards. Extending through her limbs, it focused on her diaphragm. Breathing became more difficult but she forcefully expelled the air from her lungs. The pressure mounted. It snaked its way up her body towards her head. It targeted her forehead. Once there it exploded from the centre just above her eyes. Lily remained motionless, breathing deeply with her eyes fixed upon the fire. Lily blinked her eyes and departed.

  10

  When Tengis had walked away from everything he had ever known, he had not really figured out where it was he was going to go or how he would face the inevitable consequences, particularly from Clown Oldortar. Planning ahead in life had never been one of Tengis's strongest traits. He was confident that his advanced intellect more than negated the need for planning. He believed things would simply happen as they were supposed to. After all, he thought of himself as beyond mere mortal humanity; he was special. The normal rules of life did not matter to him and really didn't concern him very much. Tengis was an exceedingly empathic young man. The only problem was he was only capable of empathy with himself. However, he really did know every corner and recess of his mind and that gave him a great sense of comfort. He viewed truly knowing oneself as another means of transcending the norms of the world.

  Smart as Tengis might have been, he had to confess that on occasion he wished he had thought things through a little more robustly. Nightfall was going to arrive soon and he had no ready means of shelter – or food or warmth or water. He may have been top of his class but at that moment he would gladly have traded place for fourth or fifth place – no lower, though. His stomach groaned. It had been hours since breakfast. His throat was rasping and hoarse. The atmosphere that breathed across the Steppe was blisteringly dry.

  As he walked away from Baatarulaan, he cast a last look back at the vast cluster of shimmering buildings that stood out so starkly against the enormity of the Steppe. He had to go. Today had been what he had long needed to push him towards starting his real life. He knew that things would never again be the same. He had no doubt that he didn't want them to be.

  Tengis made a mock salute to his home city, turned and walked towards the wilderness. He didn't know where he was going but he knew he would get there. He turned his mind towards more meaningful matters. If he was to change Baatarulaan, he had to be clear how he was going to achieve this. For the first time he admitted to himself that he did in fact need a plan. Before long his mind was lost in a myriad of complex calculations, ornate philosophies, extravagant religions and perplexing politics. He had a good deal to think about. Fortunately, he now had a good deal of time to think.

  Tengis walked on into and through the night. The Steppe stretched out before him and the stars watched overhead. He didn't pay them any attention. He was busy.

  The Steppe was immense. Its slowly undulating terrain was broken only by sporadic boulders, bushes or groups of huddling goats. By moonlight the terrain seemed hauntingly ethereal. A carpet of light blue covered the ground as far as the eye could see. A chilly air contributed further to the otherworldliness of the scene. Nothing stirred. Tengis continued with his thoughts as he moved slowly across the landscape. He no longer felt either cold nor hunger, so intense were his thoughts. His face was lined with a frown of concentration. A hare ran across his path desperate to find some shelter from the cold. Its rapid movement was in stark contrast to the stillness of its surroundings, but Tengis didn't notice it. Onwards he walked into unknown places and unchartered thinking.

  As the sun rose the following morning, Tengis was almost two days’ normal walk away from Baatarulaan. The terrain had not changed even slightly since he had set foot on the Steppe but now the distance was fringed by advancing mountains. Tengis continued to stride out in body and mind. The mountains moved closer with each step. Tengis had transcended thirst and sleep.

  By the time the sun was overhead, had he focused his gaze or shifted his thinking, Tengis would have started to make out the valleys and hillsides that lay ahead of him . . . but he didn't. He had too many things to work out. Fortunately, the voice in his head was keeping him company throughout all of his contemplations.

  ‘Change is inevitable,’ said the voice. ‘The people of Baatarulaan have grown fat and lazy. They need to be reminded of who they are and who it is that truly leads them.’

  ‘But the Khadists still control them,’ said Tengis. ‘The Fun Brigade makes sure that people do as they should.’

  ‘People have lost their faith,’ said the voice. ‘The Fun Brigade is not as strong as it used to be. People do not show one another the respect they should. They have turned Baatarulaan into a joke. They live merely to entertain themselves. It is not as it should be.’

  ‘That is Khad's fault,’ said Tengis, ‘not the people's. It was Khad who invented all that crazy stuff about laughter. It was Khad who changed the way the people were educated. It was Khad who ensured the people were driven to drugs and debauchery so that he could reap the rewards from the sale of Khem. If anyone is to blame, it is Khad, not the people.’

  ‘But why do you think that Khad formulated all of these things?’ asked the voice.

  ‘That's obvious,’ said Tengis, ‘he just wanted to break the spirit and memory of his cousin C
hinggis whom he had hated so much.’

  ‘Do you really think that was the reason?’ asked the voice. ‘Could it not be that Khad knew the people. Perhaps he knew what they really wanted. Perhaps he knew that they lacked the natural intelligence to be able to think for themselves. Perhaps he knew the best way to ensure the progress and survival of the Ongolian race. Perhaps he didn't really hate his cousin. Perhaps he just found a different way to govern than Chinggis. Perhaps Chinggis had something dreadful planned for the people and Khad saved them by destroying Chinggis.’

  ‘You watch what you're saying!’ shouted Tengis.

  His voice echoed across the Steppe. An eagle flying overheard suddenly changed direction, startled by the solitary human's outburst far below. It ruffled its feathers against the cold, wondered whom the human was talking to and flew on towards its mountain-top nest. ‘Chinggis is the reason why any of us are here. He was the one true emperor and I will see his vision reinstated.’

  ‘Are you sure that's wise?’ asked the voice.

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ replied Tengis. ‘How could it not be wise? Chinggis was the greatest man to have walked the Earth.’

  ‘Tell me,’ asked the voice, ‘what do you really know about Chinggis? I mean really, truly know about him as a man; about his real desires; what he really wanted to achieve?’

  ‘He brought peace and prosperity to our country,’ said Tengis. ‘He united a thousand tribes across his empire. He permitted many faiths to coexist in harmony. He was our true leader.’

  ‘But,’ said the voice, ‘why do you really think he did those things?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ yelled Tengis.

  A group of goats looked on in bewilderment at the human marching past talking to himself.

  ‘Could there not have been some other reason?’ said the voice. ‘Could it not have been that Chinggis had motivations other than to be a good and just emperor? Could it not have been that Chinggis wanted something else, something altogether more sinister?’

  ‘You're mad!’ screamed Tengis. ‘Stop talking like this. Get out of my head!’

  ‘You know there is possibly some truth in what I'm saying,’ continued the voice. ‘You have spent your life believing only the best of Chinggis. But remember, he was merely a man and men are weak . . . even Chinggis.’

  ‘Chinggis was never weak!’ shouted Tengis. ‘He united the known world. He was the greatest ruler ever to have walked the Earth.’ In his desperation, he was repeating himself now.

  ‘He was an incredible man,’ said the voice, ‘there's no denying that, but he was a man. Men all have their weaknesses; men all have their price. Look at the people of Baatarulaan. Even among the good there is corruption. Even among the faithful there is depravity.’

  ‘That is the fault of the Khadists,’ said Tengis. ‘I believe that all men are good; I have to believe that. It is the Khadists that have polluted the minds of Baatarulaan. I have to have faith that they can be good again. I want to be the man that helps them get there. I want to lead the people in revolt. I want to help the people help themselves no matter what it takes.’

  ‘No matter what it takes?’ asked the voice. ‘You sound like Khad.’

  ‘I am nothing like him,’ said Tengis. ‘He killed out of spite and jealousy. All I'm saying is that I would be prepared to be strong, tough even, if required.’

  ‘So,’ said the voice, ‘you'd consider killing so long as it wasn't out of spite or jealousy?’

  ‘I'm not saying that,’ said Tengis. ‘I know that control is important and that you can't have people doing what they want if their intentions are impure or if it is going to damage the way things need to be.’

  ‘But if things got out of hand?’ said the voice. ‘What then? You'd consider using some stronger force, say death?’

  ‘I would never let things get out of hand,’ said Tengis, ‘but if they did, then yes, it would only be logical to consider capital punishment if it was deemed to be for the greater good. Even Chinggis would have endorsed that and all I am trying to do is reinstate his idealism.’

  ‘Khad was always fond of death, too,’ said the voice. ‘He would say that even foul water will put out a fire. Are you sure you understand what Chinggis's cousin was trying to do? It sounds as though you're not sure. He was only trying to do good by the people in his view.’

  ‘All Khad ever wanted was power,’ said Tengis. ‘He didn't want change. He didn't like it when people rocked the boat. He polluted his people's minds and encouraged Khem addiction. I want to help people break free.’

  ‘No matter what it takes, I know!’ said the voice. ‘You've already told me, I believe.’

  ‘The people need assistance to help them see the error of their ways,’ said Tengis. ‘Chinggis would have never let his country go into decline the way it has. I can't even believe that Khad would have allowed it. That city is close to anarchy. Only the Fun Brigade and the power of Khem keep people from killing one another, and even that doesn't always work. It needs a strong leader. It needs someone its people can believe in. I am Chinggis, am I not? Have you not told me many times that I am an emperor?’

  ‘Indeed that is true,’ replied the voice. ‘You will be emperor, in time, if you listen to me. At the moment you are just a very clever man with good ideas – great ideas. You have the potential to be as great as Chinggis. You have the promise to be wealthier than Khad. We need to see what we can do to help you take the right path. For the time being, keep thinking and keep walking towards the highest mountain.’

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Tengis. ‘Why are you so keen to help me?’

  The voice remained silent.

  Tengis walked on into the evening light. For the first time since leaving his mother he became vividly aware of his surroundings. He was no longer in Baatarulaan; he was a long way from home. His stomach noticed that Tengis was paying attention and reminded him loudly that it needed some attention, too. Tengis was approaching the foothills to the mountains and set about looking for some shelter and provisions.

  Close by was a small grassy bank laid out invitingly next to a small stream. Tengis gathered together some twigs, leaves and larger branches. He had read in a survival handbook that if he rubbed two sticks together the right way he could start a fire. Just in time before darkness fell he succeeded. Exhaustion began to claw at him but he knew he needed to eat. Scouring some nearby rocks he sought out birds’ nests. He also foraged for some berries, fungi and roots. He found a thinly layered concave stone that acted perfectly as a skillet of sorts. He was glad he had read about herbology and botany. He was even more glad once he had finished cooking a mushroom omelette.

  After his meal Tengis was soon fast asleep. It had been a long two days. He had learned a great deal about himself and his potential. The voice in his head had confirmed his path towards greatness. Tengis had understood most of what had been said and he knew now more than ever that he was Chinggis Khaan; he had to be, didn't he?

  Waking the next morning, Tengis found himself disappointed that the voice had not come to him during the night nor led his dreams off to glorious battles. Instead, all he had dreamed about was wealth. Lots and lots and lots of wealth. As his dream returned to him, Tengis recalled that in it he had lived in a cave. The cave lay deep in the mountains. In its depths lay piles upon piles of a yellow-orange shining metal. Tengis dreamed that he languished on top of the piles of sunny metal, playfully letting pieces slip between his fingers. He had bathed in the metal. He had slept upon it. Outside the cave a million people waited, all kneeling with their head turned towards its entrance as if entranced – entranced by Tengis. He had dreamed that these were his people and that they all had absolute faith and confidence in him. It had felt good, really good. It was an even better dream than usual.

  Even though the voice hadn't come to him during the night Tengis knew that he needed to head towards the biggest mountain. Behind him lay the Steppe, and beyond that lay his home and Baatarulaan. Ahead of h
im lay a range of mountains that stretched upwards, left and right far out of sight, further than the horizon in any direction.

  Following the stream he had drunk from the previous night Tengis now began to clamber across the rocky foothills and. within an hour he was walking through a narrowing valley. Rocky outcrops rose high around him with cliffs and large birds of prey circled overhead. Strange goat-like animals with long curved horns stood on vertical precipices peering down at him intently as they chewed whatever it was they were eating. Tengis walked onwards..

  The valley walls became steeper and steeper, though curiously the floor began to slope downwards. Tengis knew he was walking further into the mountains and couldn't understand why the stream that earlier had been flowing away from the mountains was now flowing towards the very middle of them. The valley turned into a gorge and he walked on in a state of slight trepidation. Icicles began to decorate the stream and rocks around him. The sun had not shone here for thousands of years. Dank chilly darkness began to pervade everything.

  ‘Don't be afraid,’ said the voice in Tengis's head. ‘There is nothing here that can harm you.’

  ‘Stop creeping up on me like that,’ said Tengis. ‘Try and give me notice that you are about to arrive, will you?’

  ‘What?’ said the voice sarcastically. ‘Like moaning and wailing or something? No, no, that wouldn't do at all.’

  ‘I guess not,’ said Tengis, ‘but it's not at all polite. What is this place? It's absolutely freezing here.’

  ‘This place has no name,’ said the voice. ‘No one ever comes here. In fact, no one has ever been here. That's what's so special about it. There are things here that nobody has ever found, things that nobody has ever dreamed of. Well, almost nobody . . .’

  ‘If there's nothing here, though,’ said Tengis, ‘what am I supposed to do?’