Devil's Horseman Read online

  Casca was more interested in the engineers and siege equipment. Almost exclusively Persians and Chinese, and former prisoners who had been allowed their freedom in return for service in the army, they were the catapult men, builders and carpenters who would be used when they came up against a city or town. All too many times early in Genghis’ campaigns they had failed to take cities because of a lack of siege equipment. Batu and Subedei weren’t going to make that mistake. They trained the army, now numbering some 120,000, rigorously and even Casca joined in, although he stayed off the horses. He had his pride and didn’t want to be regarded as the laughing stock of the entire army due to his failings on horseback.

  The river was frozen solid and even the wagons and carts had no trouble crossing it with the yurts and camp equipment, and their disassembled catapults. They crossed at various points along the river and rejoined in one huge group ready to receive orders. Subedei sent out scouts to scour the countryside. He’d made sure of his intelligence the previous year, having sent out spies and ‘merchants’ who reported back who and what was where.

  During the summer just gone Casca had often taken part in the discussions on strategy. Subedei held the floor but invited suggestions from the princes or Casca. Batu didn’t speak very much which surprised Casca, and when he did it was hesitant and self-conscious. He attracted scornful looks from some of the princes, particularly from Kuyuk and Buri.

  Unlike Mongol generals in the past, Subedei preferred to hang back and direct matters from a vantage point and use flags as signals to his Noyans. Batu and Casca remained close to his side but the other princes scornfully made comments about being too scared to face the enemy and demanded they be sent out on raiding parties.

  Subedei readily agreed; it would serve two purposes. Firstly they would be out of the way and Batu in particular hated them being around. He was fed up with being treated like the runt of a litter. Secondly Subedei wanted to spread terror and fear and the princes would do that without needing specific orders. They were only ordered to avoid clashes with any sizeable enemy force and report any such formations to him immediately.

  The line of trees that marked the end of the steppes and the beginning of the great forests that covered northern Russia loomed closer. They were making their way slowly north westwards towards the city of Riazan, sited well inside the forest, and this would be their first target.

  One evening they sat around a large camp fire within Batu’s huge yurt, the slave girls dancing to Mongol folk songs, and Subedei leaned towards Casca. “Tell me, Old Young One, what would you do if we besieged a city and learned that another enemy force was approaching to relieve it? Would you risk raising the siege and do battle with the new army? Would you retreat?”

  “Retreat!” Buri snapped, his eyes burning with indignation. “Only cowards retreat!” Some of the others sat there nodded in agreement.

  Batu looked at Casca, his eyes wide. He obviously was waiting to hear wisdom from the legendary teacher of Genghis Khan.

  “Retreat is not something you would wish for, am I right, Batu Khan?” Casca said slowly.

  “That – is correct,” Batu said, hesitation in his voice. He looked briefly at the scowling faces lit by the flames of the fire. He had no wish to be called a coward in front of everyone, and he also knew retreat was not in the plans. Riazan was to be destroyed, both to wipe out any chance of leaving an enemy in the rear as they moved on further west, and to demonstrate to all the folly of resisting them.

  “Hmmm,” Casca mused, rocking back and forth on his buttocks. He recalled a story told to him in his childhood about the great Julius Caesar.

  “Do you have a tactic, Old Young One?” Kuyuk challenged him, a sneer on his face. “Or have you left your wisdom in the tomb of my grandfather?”

  Casca glared at the prince. “Sometimes a quick decision is a poor decision. Much has to be considered before making the right one. If you leave a city then they may sally out to attack your rear. I would build a wall to surround the city and put yourself inside this palisade so that the city defenders cannot come out, yet the arriving enemy cannot get in. You would be safe within the space in between the city walls and your barrier.”

  The Mongols stared in surprise, then turned to each other, muttering and arguing. Subedei looked thoughtful and slowly nodded. Batu saw this and smiled. His faith in Casca-Badahur was proved and it had also given his Chief of Staff an additional tactic to use. Even the younger Mongols seemed to like it and a few looked at Casca with renewed respect. Truly he must be as the legend said if he could devise such plans. Casca for his part thanked his parents for telling him of Caesar’s siege of Alesia when he’d finally defeated the Gauls and their last great warlord, Vercingetorix.

  Kuyuk for his part looked surprised, then nodded without smiling. This round-eye was clever. Only Buri remained scowling, but this was because Casca had avoided being humiliated.

  Later Casca sank into his bed and lay with his hands behind his head, staring up at the felt lining of the yurt. Ashira knelt by his side and waited for a command. Casca looked at her. “Ashira, you’ve said little since we arrived here with the army. Can you see yourself remaining here for the rest of your life, or would you wish for something more permanent?”

  She smiled faintly, her eyes almost closing. “A slave has no wishes, only servitude. Where you go, I go.”

  “Oh dammit, Ashira, you were really pissed when I took you away from Samarkand. And here you are in a yurt in the lands of the Rus, serving someone who is as out of place here as you are. You know damned well I won’t remain here any longer than I have to. So what would you have me do for you before I go?”

  Ashira lowered her head. She remained silent for a moment. “Please master, do not raise my hopes falsely. As a slave I should not expect gifts or favors. You promise much but can you guarantee what you promise?”

  Casca took her by the hand and pulled her close. “We’ll see. I must remain with the army for the moment but I promise I’ll take care of your future. But in the meantime, woman, you will be well cared for here.” He pushed aside the blankets. “Remove your clothes, Ashira, and remain here tonight.”

  Smiling, Ashira did as she was bid and slipped under the blankets, rolling herself on top of Casca, and delighted in keeping him awake for hours.

  * * *

  The raiding parties rode back and forth, burning, killing and plundering. The terrified population of the countryside fled, spreading news of the terror that had come from the east as they went. And all the time the horde closed in on Riazan, slipping through the forest slowly, like some huge lumbering beast. The forest animals, too, fled from the advancing invaders and the Russians knew they were close when suddenly wildlife became over abundant around the city.

  Subedei and Batu held a council-of-war in the forest close to the city. The army tramped past, their frozen breath clouding the air around them. “We will use Casca-Badahur’s idea of a stockade,” Subedei said, drawing a circle in the snow and then another inside it, denoting the city. “Scouts will be constantly on the move around the area, in order to detect any relief approaching from the north, south or west.”

  Batu chewed on his lower lip. “We must invite them to surrender first; that is the law.”

  The princes scowled. A city surrendering was not their idea of fun. It meant no plunder or killing. Subedei nodded, looking at the assembled generals and princes. “We must find an ambassador who speaks their tongue. Then he will take a message we will dictate to the garrison. If they refuse to surrender, we will attack.”

  The princes brightened. The very word gave them a thrill.

  Casca returned to his yurt and put his red hands close to the fire. It was freezing! “When do we attack, master?” Kaidur asked, his mustache white with frost.

  “When we find someone who can speak Russian. I cannot,” he added, chagrined that here was one tongue he had little knowledge of. He’d been through the lands of Kiev long ago but hadn’t learned the
local Slav language, preferring to stick to the Scandinavian dialect of the Varangians he’d been with at that time.

  “I speak their language,” Ashira said unexpectedly.

  Both Casca and Kaidur turned round in speechless surprise.

  * * *

  Riazan had been built in a forest clearing, the city being built from the trees that were slowly cleared as the city expanded. It was surrounded by high log walls and the gates were roofed and guarded with towers. Smoke rose lazily from the houses as Casca, Ashira and Kaidur strode through the gleaming white snow towards the east gate. To the watching Russians the edge of the forest had come alive with thousands upon thousands of mounted warriors, all waiting silently, all fiercely attired with swords and bows.

  Ashira had been transformed. She was dressed in a bright blue long sleeved dress with red edging, and over this she wore a blue and red sleeveless jacket. Around her neck hung a gold colored drape that went down to her waist and suspended from the bottom of this were black tassels of horsehair. On her head rested a felt cap of blue and gold with a red pom-pom at the crown, and her hair was dressed with golden thread and hung down her neck and onto her shoulders.

  Over this she wore a coat of a darker shade of blue with white sable fur. Casca had won an argument with Subedei and Batu in allowing Ashira to speak for them. At first they’d flatly refused but Casca unexpectedly got help from Mongke and Kuyuk, both backing him. So Ashira was appointed ambassador of the Khan and automatically freed from slavery.

  She’d been primed as to what to say, and Casca and Kaidur went with her since Casca was her guardian and also one of the commanders of the army, thus representing the elite, and Kaidur was his guard commander and thus represented the army.

  Kaidur carried a flag of truce over his shoulder, limply hanging from a rough stick that had been ripped off a tree. They advanced towards the wooden wall until one of the defenders rose up onto his toes and bellowed for them to stop. Ashira looked at Casca who nodded.

  “I bring a message from my master, Batu Khan, Prince of the House of Genghis Khan and servant of the mighty Ogedei Khan, ruler of the World.”

  Casca could see the consternation amongst the Russians. They weren’t used to dealing with a woman at times of parleys between armies!

  “I speak for Yuri, Prince of Riazan, and vassal of the Grand Duke of Suzdal.” The speaker was a bear of a man with a thick black beard. “There will be no surrender to the uncouth rabble that call themselves Mongols. Go back to your kennels, evil worshippers of idols!”

  Ashira translated to Casca. The Eternal Mercenary spat into the snow. “Idiots. They’ll all perish unless they give in. Tell them they can carry on worshipping their God and enjoying their trade as long as they pay taxes to the Khan and acknowledge his suzerainty.”

  Ashira shouted out the terms, adding, as she’d been told to by Batu, that the Prince of Riazan was to be surrendered along with his family.

  The black bearded man laughed down at them. “You think we’ll grovel at your feet you ugly pagans? We’ll butcher the lot of you and stick your heads up along the frontier as a lesson to any more of your half-human kind that are stupid to come this way! Now begone and take this sorceress with you; we do not discuss men’s business through a woman!”

  Ashira was red-faced as she translated to the two men. Kaidur growled and bared his teeth. Casca shrugged. He was used to such exchanges. “Tell that bearded man I’ll personally seek him out and have him grovel at your feet before I cut his head off.”

  Ashira hesitated and looked at Casca who nodded, so she did.

  “Ha ha ha!” the Russian threw his head back in mirth. “You try it, horse fucker. I’ll harness you to a cart and have you pull it through the streets before I decide to end your miserable life. This talk is at an end.”

  The three trudged back towards the waiting Mongol army. Ashira was still red-faced. “Is it always like this, discussing surrender terms?”

  “No,” Casca grunted. He looked at the expectant princes on their magnificently barded horses. “But when two different cultures clash, this tends to occur. Those princes knew this was bound to fail as long as you were the ambassador. That’s why they were so enthusiastic in having you speak for them.”

  “And you knew this all along?” Ashira was outraged.

  Casca grinned. “Yeah, but it got you freed, didn’t it?”

  Ashira spluttered, her face still red but now in anger rather than embarrassment. “You-you…!”

  “Oh stop it, woman. I knew damn well it’d fail but I also knew it would mean your freedom from slavery. For a few minutes of insults from lice-ridden Russians you’ve earned your manumission. Seems like a fair exchange to me.”

  Ashira planted her fists on her hips and glared at Casca. “You scheming…… uuaghh!” she flounced off, kicking up snow ahead of her as she went. Kaidur looked at Casca for a moment, then burst out laughing. Casca joined in and the two made their way in Ashira’s wake, roaring with laughter.

  Their laughter stopped as they neared the rank of waiting princes. Batu walked his steed forward a pace or two, then looked down at the three figures. Ashira’s red face spoke words that had not yet been said, but nonetheless he needed to hear it from The Old Young One’s mouth. “They refused?”

  “Aye, that they did,” Casca replied, halting alongside Ashira who hung her head in shame. “And they insulted your ambassador.”

  “Did they indeed?” Batu’s mouth turned down. He wheeled and faced the expectant nobility behind him. Subedei was looking thoughtfully at the city while the princes were looking at each other with pleased expressions. “You hear that?” Batu raised his voice, the echoes rolling through the trees to the massed soldiers waiting patiently. “These unworthy fools mock the Khan’s ambassadors! Such disrespect! They shall pay indeed for that.”

  Mongke spat in the snow. “Fools they are and as fools they shall die.”

  Kuyuk laughed wildly and wheeled his horse around. “I shall prepare the men to attack.”

  “Wait!” Subedei’s bark stopped the young prince.

  “You dare address me, a prince of the blood, in such terms?” Kuyuk hissed.

  “You dare address me, the chosen commander of the army, by the very hand of the Khan himself, in such terms?” Subedei retorted, holding the prince’s gaze. “You wish to be sent back to Karakorum with your tail between your legs?”

  Kuyuk sat in his saddle, his face flushed. Casca reached out for the reins of his horse and was given them by the soldier holding them, and mounted. By the time he’d settled into his saddle, Kuyuk had returned to his place, his face red and, so Casca thought, if his scowl got any worse it would pull his face off his skull.

  “Nobody attacks until we are fully ready, young prince,” Subedei’s voice came clearly across the clearing. “A lesson you need to learn. If you so wish, I shall arrange for lessons in warfare to be given you by the Old Young One here.”

  Casca grinned. Kuyuk shot him a withering look of contempt. “I have nothing to learn from one who cannot ride properly.”

  Casca’s grin vanished. He looked at Kuyuk with dislike. The man was too impatient and reminded him of some of the arrogant emperors of Rome who, having been given too much power, showed just how little they understood of what it meant to rule properly.

  “Then I shall expect better judgment from you in future, young prince,” Subedei said, then turned to face Casca, a dismissive gesture that brought a fresh flush to Kuyuk’s face. “In what way did they insult the ambassador?”

  Casca told him the salient points. Subedei looked pensive. “A sorceress? Then we shall show them sorcery indeed.”

  He turned and nodded to Batu, and the two led the rest of the army hierarchy back towards the men. Kaidur remained by Casca’s side, comfortable in his saddle. Ashira was left standing in the snow, so Casca extended his hand to her. “Come, time we made camp. This is going to take a while to settle.”

  Ashira settled into the saddle beh
ind Casca. “I will be seen as a failure,” she said.

  “One who was expected to fail. The princes want blood, and they’ll get it. They didn't even want you to succeed, and if you had, you'd really be a sorceress. Don’t take it too badly, Ashira.”

  They rode back to the army and watched as Subedei assigned duties to the various contingents. The princes went off to their detachments and the yurts were unloaded from the carts. In no time a camp had sprung up amongst the trees, and even before the fires were blazing away properly, the forest was being attacked by gangs of enthusiastic axe-wielding soldiers and pioneers.

  Casca made sure Ashira was organizing the yurt before walking off with Kaidur and two of his guards to Subedei. The fat commander was seated on a wide tough looking carved chair made out of horse chestnut, an item of furniture looted from China. There weren’t that many trees in Mongolia. “You’re going to build the wall around the city, then?” Casca greeted him.

  “Of course!” Subedei’s breath clouded in the chill winter air. Guards and attendants stood on either side, all wrapped in furs to keep the worst of the cold out. “The sooner we complete it the sooner we can get on with teaching these disrespectful dogs a lesson!”

  Casca grunted and looked about. Shouts were coming from the soldiers posted closest to the city. “What?”

  An officer, one of Subedei’s elite guard commanders, came panting up to the army leader, eyes wide in excitement. “Sir! They’re coming out of the city! They’re coming out to give us battle!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Russians were milling about the space directly in front of the city gates. Casca took a good long look at the distant enemy force as it gathered under the safety of archers manning the walls. Most were on horseback, many beautifully attired in colorful tunics that they wore over chainmail hauberks, and a few wore face masks that Casca had seen in the Holy Land in recent years.