The full moon rose high above Ongolium. Across the Steppe the silhouette of Lily riding Lucky slowly came into view. She was heading back home towards her winter campsite. She and Lucky were now a full day's ride from the river that had helped them both escape the strange interior glacier. Rounding the last of the enormous boulders that acted as sporadic landmarks for her winter camp, Lily turned her head expectantly, excited about seeing her home again. It had been a long time since she had first set out for Baatarulaan and much had happened. Searching out the horizon for the cluster of gers, Lily was dumbstruck. Normally there were no more than a dozen gers; more than enough tented homes for the seventy or so members of her herder community. As she looked towards the camp, she stopped counting at one hundred gers.
Some of the younger herder children rode out to greet her.
‘Lily!’ they cried.
Although she had spent most of her life as a stranger among her people, Lily was still loved. Since she had become leader of her community she was revered. The children jumped from their horses to embrace Lily and Lucky. The herders were taught to ride from an early age and such acrobatics which may have seemed incredible to city dwellers were second nature to those who lived on the Steppe.
With one swift movement Lily jumped from Lucky and stood cuddling the children. Lily reminded herself how good it felt to be home. Her home had changed, though; there were hundreds if not thousands of strangers here.
‘What's going on?’ asked Lily.
‘They started arriving two days ago,’ replied the children.
‘Who are they?’ asked Lily. She looked around at the strange faces. They looked familiar yet distant.
‘They say that they are your friends,’ said the children.
Lily ventured towards the mass of people milling around and near her ger. She noticed with relief that her door was still closed; she had meant to do the dishes before setting off but hadn't quite got around to it. A huddle of men sat on the ground nearby.
‘Excuse me,’ said Lily. ‘would somebody mind telling me what on earth is going on?’
‘Lily!’ cried Elder Chuluun, who now ran towards her with a surprising agility. ‘My girl! How happy I am to see you! Please join us.’
‘Elder Chuluun, please,’ said Lily, ‘what is this?’ She waved her hand around the camp.
‘They are here for you!’ continued Elder Chuluun. ‘They received word and they came. Does it not please you? We have been watching your activities in Baatarulaan closely. Matters are far worse than we had imagined. It appears that Tengis is in league with Khad. We must stop him and quickly. If he gains the ascendency, it will be too late. Please sit here. May I introduce you to the other community elders?’
Elder Chuluun made the appropriate introductions to leaders from neighbouring herder communities. His final introduction was to two faces Lily knew well and was relieved to see. She ran towards them.
‘Millie! Danyal!’ exclaimed Lily. ‘You're here!’
‘Well, “X” marks the spot,’ said Danyal, pointing to Lily's ger. Its roof had a cross motif in red stitching spreading across the thick felt cover.
‘It's a full moon, is it not?’ asked Millie. ‘That was the arrangement, unless I am mistaken?’ She hugged Lily close to her chest. ‘You have many friends. But come, sit with us. We have a long night ahead of us. There is much to prepare before we face Tengis. We are having . . . what did you call it again, Elder Chuluun?’
‘A quriltai,’ replied the old man.
‘It's an assembly of tribes,’ continued Millie. ‘It's what the herder communities supposedly do while they are preparing for battle. Come, sit, listen in. Elder Chuluun is quite the quiet little strategic mastermind.’
Lily joined the assembly. After the initial joy of meeting one another, silence soon descended as they began to discuss tactics.
‘We are outnumbered,’ said Elder Chuluun, ‘but we are nomads; they are city dwellers. I mean no disrespect by that.’ He offered his hand in peace to Millie and Danyal. ‘Your Hairy Hordes are hardly typical city dwellers; they are far more like us nomadic herders. We are used to endurance and fortitude. We are hardy soldiers willing and incredibly bloody-minded – in both ways. We number almost eight hundred. I suspect Tengis will bring almost double that number, although we won't know until we see them. As expert horsemen, I propose that at least sixty per cent of our number act as light infantry carrying bows and arrows, two for every man, as well as our usual sabres for closer-range combat. The remaining forty per cent will act as lancers and attack the heart of Tengis's troops. Does anyone have any questions?’
There was a general murmuring in agreement, although Lily could sense that they were uncomfortable about their numerical disadvantage.
Elder Chuluun was aware of this, too. ‘Do not worry. We will remain mobile. There is no way Tengis's men can come close to our riders. Our mobility will enable us to readily outmanoeuvre them and take control of the battle. We need to pit what strengths we have against our enemy's weaknesses. Our riders will draw their troops out into the Steppe where our lancers will plough into them.’
‘What about the Hairy Hordes?’ asked Danyal. ‘Where do you want us?’
‘I want you with the lancers,’ replied Elder Chuluun. ‘You will act separately, as you are always wont to do. I don't want to advise such a robust fighting outfit, but once our riders infantry have drawn the enemy into the Steppe, perhaps the Hairy Hordes could lead the charge into their midst?’
‘It would be an honour,’ replied Millie. ‘We will not disappoint you.’
‘Although there are likely to be more of them,’ said Danyal, ‘it does sound as though we have the upper hand.’
‘Don't undo your bootlaces until you have seen the river,’ answered Elder Chuluun. Danyal scratched his head, though he presumed he had just heard something profound.
‘If we are finished, can I take some rest?’ asked Lily. ‘I am exhausted.’
‘You have four hours,’ said Elder Chuluun. ‘We march out of camp at six. If my estimates are correct then the enemy will be camped an hour's march from here near the mountains.’
Lily excused herself as the members of the gathering bid one another goodnight. After Lily had seen to Lucky, she entered the family ger and lay back on the furs that lined the rear of the tent. Within moments she had quickly fallen into a deep sleep. That night she dreamed about Tsara. Her spirit friend assured her that all would soon be well. She also confirmed that it had been she who had helped corral Lily's supporters together; she who had sent the horses and she who would look after her tomorrow during the battle. Although it was to be Lily's first encounter with warfare, the prospect exhilarated her and her dreams were filled with thoughts of her imminent victory.
At some point during the night Lily awoke with a start. The camp was silent except for the occasional sound of snoring and breaking of wind, though whether human or animal it was hard to tell. As Lily tried to block the noises from her mind she began to hear something else. Something more distant. It was a sound she thought she recognised but wasn't sure where from. The sound was deep and heavy. It did not sound human. The noise pulsed regularly across the plain rhythmically beating time. In between the cadence was something else, something unknown. A throaty blong accompanied the tempo every three or so beats. It was an altogether more frightening noise. The fearsome sound poured across the Steppe into the encampment. Lily pulled the furs close around her and wished that Lucky was keeping her company. Eventually Lily fell back into slumber.
Lily managed only a couple of hours’ sleep. She was awake and washed long before Elder Chuluun had requested roll-call. She opened a trunk that her father used to store his clothing. Lily had lived next to the trunk all of her life but never actually opened it before. Casting aside camel-hair cloaks and blankets she dug deeper. Eventually her fingers grasped what she was looking for. She pulled out a lacquered boiled leather tunic from the trunk. It would help protect her torso from arrows, knives and swords. From deeper in the chest came a helmet, the top of which was metal but whose lower portion was leather with straps for attaching it to the tunic. With both hands she pulled out metal leggings that formed from tiny overlapping iron plates that looked a little like fish scales. These two had straps for attaching them to the tunic and also footwear. Lily felt around for anything else and to her surprise she touched something soft. Drawing whatever it was out from the wooden container she found herself holding a one-piece silken under-garment. She was utterly lost for words. She had not expected this. She stared at it aghast.
‘I am sure you are wondering what that is for,’ asked Elder Chuluun. For a big man he was strangely nimble. He had quietly opened the door to Lily's ger and watched as she prepared for her first battle. ‘It is meant to be worn beneath your armour and boots. If you are shot at distance by an arrow, it is unlikely to penetrate the silk. Even if it penetrates your skin the silk will likely hold. Given Tengis may use poison, this will help protect you, and should you be unlucky enough to be shot, the silk will help the healers extract the arrow safely from your skin. It's quite clever really.’
Lily was relieved. She preferred this logical explanation to the others that had been milling around her head.
Elder Chuluun helped his leader dress for battle. Attaching her leggings to her boots, he looked deep into her eyes and wished her good luck.
Having forced herself to eat some fried mutton in pastry, Lily sought out Lucky. One of the camp dogs that had been following her began to whimper; Lily threw it a piece of her mutton khuushuur, which was gobbled down gratefully. The dog seemed to nod to her before rushing off in search of more scraps. Lily looked up to see Lucky looking on embarrassed that his fellow animals could act so pitifully.
‘Dogs will be dogs,’ said Lily. She poured some warmed oats into Lucky's feed and he began chomping contentedly. As he did, Lily began to prepare her horse. Elder Chuluun had gifted her his own personal horse armour. It was made of the same lacquered leather that covered her chest. She tested the leather and felt comfortable that it was light and supple enough to ensure maximum mobility. Once Lucky had finished his breakfast, she jumped into her saddle. Pulling a warm fur cloak across her shoulders she rode out of camp just as others were starting to wake. The moon began to be usurped by daytime rays of light.
‘Choo, choo!’ shouted Lily, kicking Luck's flank.
Lucky was not used to being told what to do and shot off at an incredible pace given his short legs. Lily knew that Steppe horses, which were shorter than their European cousins, vehemently refused to break stride even when they galloped. When moving at speed she thought they looked as though they were speed-walking at double time. Lily had no fear that they were flying fast, though. If herders were hardy souls, then their horses were far tougher and more resilient than even the armour they wore. Life on the Steppe was difficult enough for the herders who had gers to shelter them from the minus-forty-degrees wintry storms; horses simply had to grin and bear it. Lucky sped on in the direction of the mysterious sounds Lily had heard during the night and which had continued ever since.
Reaching the top of a rise in the Steppe, Lily stopped. She looked across the plain towards the mountains from where she could still hear the noises of last night. Sure enough, just as Elder Chuluun had predicted Tengis and his troops were camped in the shadow of the crags. There were many tents. Not gers but simple silk-sheet tents. It wasn't the tent material that caught Lily's breath; it was the incredible number of them. Elder Chuluun had said they would be outnumbered but rather than two to one Lily estimated that there were more than ten times as many tents as there were among her people. She scoured the makeshift enemy barracks, taking in everything she could see. There were very few horses, which surprised her, but there were wide wooden walls holding thousands of enormous pikes. The thorny sharp points sat hovering over the white silk tents beneath. Their teeth frightened Lily. The noise continued, though if anything it was even louder. Combing the camp, Lily looked for its source. The steady thudding was coming from enormous drums that were each being beaten by two sturdy soldiers. Blong. The origin of the horrible new noise eluded her momentarily.
Peering from tent to tent, Lily sought out the horrid din. Blong. Men hurriedly rose, readying themselves for the day that lay ahead of them. Blong. It was a scene not dissimilar to the one she had just left; albeit with a lot more people involved. Blong. Focusing on the centre of the camp Lily noticed one tent that was far larger than the others. Blong. Flying from its roof was a huge flag depicting a lion-headed man riding a noble horse. Blong. As she stared at it venom coursed through her eyes. Blong. Adjacent to the tent was a large wooden plinth painted red. Blong. Resting on top was an enormous axle. Blong. Below the axle sung a mammoth bell. Blong. It seemed to be made from the metallic substance Lily had seen Tengis hold aloft in Baatarulaan. Blong. Soldiers clamoured around it enraptured by both the noise it was making and the shimmering substance from which it was made. Blong. The bell's huge clapper swung below ceaselessly, keeping time with the drums surrounding it. Blong. Lily could see no point in the noise other than to wreak terror among those who heard it. Blong. It seemed to be working.
Lily raced back to her camp as fast as Lucky was able.
‘Elder Chuluun!’ cried Lily, ‘Danyal, Millie, everybody, come quick.’ She jumped from Lucky, landing in a run of her own. The elders and tribal delegates moved in around her. ‘Tengis is camped near here. Very near. We need to get ready, now!’
‘Was there anything else?’ asked Elder Chuluun. ‘Before we send our encampment safely into the Steppe is there anything we need to tell them? Did you see anything of note that might give us advantage over our foes? Do they have any siege weapons?’ Other soldiers began to group around the smaller circle and grow outwards.
Lily was reluctant to tell them what she had seen but needed to. ‘No, there are no large weapons. However, there are lots of them.’
‘We know that,’ said Danyal. ‘Elder Chuluun said that last night.’
‘No!’ shouted Lily. ‘There are thousands of them. Each of us will have to defeat ten men if we are to win today. If we are to be victorious, then we have to fight harder and with more ferocity than we think imaginable. We will win. We fight for justice. We fight for what is right. We fight to restore the greatness of our nation. We fight to defeat the evil that has claimed control for too long. We fight for Chinggis Khaan!’ People everywhere began to cheer. ‘Everybody; to your horses. They have come to the Steppe.’
The soldiers roared their approval. All around, the sound of metal rang out as helmets were strapped on, swords picked up, last adjustments to armour made and above them all the dreadful ‘Blong.’
‘Hairy Hordes,’ shouted Danyal, ‘file in behind me.’
Fifty enormous men with extra-long arms slumped into a semblance of order behind Danyal. Each wore a thick metal helmet and in each fist they carried an enormous curved sabre the size of a small boy.
‘Archers, cavalry!’ yelled Lily. ‘You are with me. You know what to do.’
Over five hundred horsemen shouted their approval.
‘Lancers!’ shouted Elder Chuluun. ‘About turn. Ready.’
Almost four hundred of the biggest men, each heavily weighed down with armour and carrying a razor-like lance and matching sabre, formed units of twenty behind the Elder.
‘My friends,’ roared Lily, ‘you have come when asked to defend what is right. You have come to make a stand against the Khadists who have left the comfort of their city and seek to eradicate all that is left that is just in this country.’ Far and wide her supporters bellowed their approval. ‘We shall defend our Steppe whatever the cost may be; we shall fight on plains, rocks, mountains, rivers and in the foothills. We shall never surrender and even if – which I do not for the moment believe – this Steppe or a large part of it were to be subjugated and starving, then our brethren further afield, armed and just, will carry on the struggle until in Chinggis's good time this New World with all its power and might, sets forth to the liberation and rescue of the Old.’
A thousand soldiers raced across the Steppe towards the mountains.
‘Blong.’