Horselords by David Cook, Larry Elmore Read Free Book Online Page A

He wasn’t born to become the khahan?” Koja asked in surprise. He had assumed the khahan was a hereditary rank, like that of king or prince.
    “All men are born to become what they will. Such is the will of Teylas, Lord of the Sky,” she explained, playing her fingers up and down the staff. “When Burekei died, Yamun became khan of the Hoekun. It was only later, after he conquered the Dalats, that the families named him great prince of all the Tuigan.” Bayalun crossed her feet and adjusted her seat.
    “But, I did not invite you here to answer all your questions, envoy, although they have been amusing.” She gave him a slight mocking smile and watched to see what kind of reaction her gentle barb would bring.
    Koja became red-faced. “Accept my apologies, Second Empress,” he meekly responded, bowing his head slightly.
    “Please, call me Mother Bayalun,” the empress chided. Sitting back in her seat, Bayalun carefully set the staff down by her feet. “You say you are a lama of the Red Mountain,” she began casually. “What teachings do you follow?”
    “The lamas of the Red Mountain live by the words of the Enlightened One, who taught us how to reach peace and perfect oblivion. We seek to banish our passions, so we can understand the teachings of the Enlightened One.” He paused, waiting for some sign of understanding. Bayalun watched him closely but gave no indication that she understood.
    Koja continued. “If I drink tea and I like tea, my life will be ruled every day by the desire for tea and I will not know anything else. Every day I will think about my cup of tea and will miss what is happening around me.” The priest’s hands mimed holding a cup of tea. “Only after we no longer savor life can we truly feel everything life has to offer.” Koja tried to keep his explanation simple, not wanting to confuse his hostess with the complexities of Red Mountain theology. Judging from the shaman beside him, the Tuigan were not all that familiar with sophisticated philosophical teachings.
    Mother Bayalun squinted at him. “I heard it said you followed Furo the Mighty. Isn’t he the god of the Red Mountain Temple? But today you talk of the Enlightened One. Do you follow the teachings of one and worship the other?”
    Koja scratched at the stubble on his skull. His simple explanation was getting more complex. “We know it is a truth that Furo the Mighty is a divine agent of the Enlightened One.”
    “So, you practice the teachings of the Enlightened One, but pray to Furo to intercede on your behalf?”
    “Yes, Mother Bayalun.” Koja marveled at the astuteness of her questions.
    ” ‘He is like the wind all about us. Felt but not touched, heard but not spoken, moving but unmovable, always present, but always unseen,’” quoted Bayalun, her eyes closed in concentration.
    Koja stared at her in amazement, too dumbfounded for words. “That is from the Yanitsava, the Book of Teachings,” he whispered.
    “And you’re surprised that I know it,” she chuckled. “I, too, have spent my life learning the teachings of wise men. These worthies have been my instructors.” She waved a hand toward the men who sat down the row from Koja. “This is Aghul Balai of the Tsu-Tsu, a people close to the border of Shou Lung,” she said, introducing the thin man in the mystical robes. “For many years he studied in Shou Lung, learning the secrets of Chung Tao, the Way.” The wizened man pressed his palms together and bowed slightly to Koja.
    While at the temple, Koja had heard a little about Chung Tao. It was powerful within the Shou empire, far to the east. It was said that the emperor of the Jade Throne himself followed its teachings. Koja had been taught its teachings were wrong and had heard many evil stories about its practices. To Koja, the mystic suddenly looked sinister and dangerous.
    “This other,” continued Bayalun, pointing to the fur-clad man, “is Fiyango. Through him, we are able to speak with the