The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 4)

 

The next day, Bangqiu announced his plans to leave. But the others prevailed, arguing that after another day’s rest, all would be fit to travel.  They stayed in the guest house the entire day.  When the monks visited, they asked about any strange occurrences in the night. Bo-Jing responded with cold suspicion that soon turned to hostility.  The monks confessed that the monastery was “under a curse” and that the source seemed to be the disused blacksmith’s shed.  Bo-Jing shrugged off this explanation and asked to be left alone.  Bangqiu, in secret, visited the blacksmith’s shed and found it to be unnaturally cold.  He shared this information with the others; all agreed that even with this verification of one detail in the monks’ story, they were entitled to little trust.

That night, the company barricaded all entrances to the guest the house—the front door, the door to the chapel, and the secret passage from the chapel to the main house.  Several hours after dark, there was a loud banging from the front door.  Peering from a window, Nekhil spotted one of the horrible monsters that Bo-Jing had dueled in the chapel the night before.  Reasoning that they were much better prepared and had a clear advantage of numbers, they made a plan to let the monster in and capture it, or failing that, kill it.  Bo-Jing stood back some distance from the door and the other warriors prepared a gauntlet on either side of the entry corridor.  Ryu, Bangqiu, Salt stayed out of sight but nearby and ready to help where needed.  Bo-Jing gave the signal and Nekhil opened the door, stepping out of the way as the monster rushed into the waiting spears and swords.  It was grievously wounded and Bo-Jing readied to overpower it. 

But then there was a terrible shriek from another part of the house, then another and another, and within moments, a small horde of monsters attacked the company from all angles.  Bo-Jing left the wounded monster to Nekhil as he turned to face the new enemies.  Their plan ruined, each of the warriors was forced to fight for his own life, with Bo-Jing taking on two of the monsters at once.  Salt and Bangqiu blasted the monsters with magic missiles and then retreated, goading several of the monsters to pursue.  Having drawn the monsters away from their companions, the two wu jen turned and blasted them with their most potent and explosive magic, destroying them in a burst of fire and steam.

The monsters’ numbers, cut in half, the warriors regrouped and improved their tactics, fighting one or two monsters at a time in a narrow part of the corridor.  As one warrior tired, Ryu pulled him (under protest) to safety as another took his place so that Bo-Jing always had a companion to protect his weak side and to assist in flanking the fearsome monsters.  They fought with abandon, seemingly eager to kill or be killed with almost equal measure, shrieking as they trampled over their fallen comrades.  Concluding that they were undead beings, Ryu through a jar of holy water at them. It smashed on the stones, splashing water on the monsters; the hems of their robes disintegrated and their flesh steamed and burned.  Only then did the monsters attempt to flee; the warriors pursued and cut them down.

When the last monster fell, Bo-Jing staggered a few paces away from the and sank to the floor.  Ryu issued him healing droughts and bandaged his wounds with poultices.  All had been slashed or bitten; they washed themselves thoroughly. Ryu volunteered that he would stand guard the whole night, and awaken the others at the first sign of any trouble.

The night passed without incident and, in the morning, the two monks they’d gotten to know knocked at the door.  “We hope no one was disturbed b the curse last night.”

Bo Jing demanded that the monks produce some holy water.  The monks nodded, went away for several minutes and returned with a brass bowl filled with water.  With some amusement, they followed Bo-Jing’s directions to dip their fingers in the bowl, then to pour someone their robes, then to pour some on their feet, then to drink it.  In all of these demonstrations, the water interacted with the monks in the same way that ordinary water would interact with an ordinary person.  When the water was exhausted Bo-Jing thanked the monks and Salt explained that they had been attacked in the night by undead monsters.  And asked the monks if they could bring some more holy water to cleanse the house.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Ryu was performing a ritual to prepare his own holy water.  And by the time the monks returned, each carrying a larger brass vessel, Ryu’s holy water was ready.  He splashed the water on one of the mons; he was affected the same way as the monsters in the night.  Both monks ran away screaming and both were killed by Bo-Jing and is warriors.

The company rested and were not disturbed by monks in the day nor monsters at night.  Over the next few days, they explored the monastery, discovering that most of it had fallen into disuse.  The dormitory, the training rooms, and the meditation room all showed signs of being inhabited by bloodthirsty monsters.  The stable was empty.  The company’s poor horses had been killed and mainly eaten.

There was also a library, seemingly untouched for many years.  Monks had lived there were centuries and there had been good times and bad times.  A time when one of the monks convinced the others that he had achieved a greater enlightened, forever changing their previously pure egalitarianism.  The more recent chronicles described the debates about creating gold coins in order to complete a special building project.  Many monks had left, but the abbot had reluctantly sided with the “gold” faction.  The project continued and was completed.  This seemed to be the time that Gaansukh remembered from when he was a boy.

The need for labor brought in workers from far away.  A group of these workers expressed an interest in joining the order, and this seemed a natural decision to replace those whom had departed during the debate over worldly riches.  These new initiates showed a strange zeal far outstripped their understanding.  They displayed very unenlightened behavior, one night feasting on the cow that the monks kept for milk.  The older monks slowly departed, often without explanation.  Before long, the abbot lost control of the monastery, but nevertheless remained, wanting to believe the new monks could benefit from better instruction.

Because the chronicles made repeated references to a crypt, company decided to search the monastery more thoroughly and discover what may lay beneath.  They found a trapdoor in the monks’ house that led to a network of tunnels.  They found an exit to the outside on the far side of the ridge.  They found a trapdoor leading into the guesthouse.  They encountered and fought strange, tentacled vermin.

And, in a little dungeon cell, they found an old man in tattered robes, chained to the wall.  He responded to the party with wary defiance.  Though he answered Bo-Jing’s theological riddles with acuity, he refused to answer any of their more temporal questions (“Who are you?”  “What’s down here?”) until he had been freed and brought outside.  Relying on wisdom he had garnered in the library, Bo-Jing agreed.

The old man blinked in late afternoon light and took a long deep breath.  After receiving food and water, he moved some distance away from the company, keeping them in sight while also demanding that they come no closer.

The sun set, it became dark and cold and the old man broke down in tears.  He called Bo-Jing and the others to him, embracing them, ruffling their hair and kissing their cheeks.  “You are not monsters!  You are not monsters!”

The next morning, the man explained that he was Rabban Bar Ṣawma, the last abbot of the monks of the way of the light.  “But not the last monk!  There will be others, maybe one of you?”

Though none of the company wished to enter the monastic life, they heartily agreed to give him whatever material assistance he needed. 

The company stayed several more days, resting, and ensuring that Rabban Ṣawma was safe.  He responded well to daylight and fresh air; with every day he appeared a year younger.  After a couple weeks, they had no misgivings about leaving him behind when they returned to Banua.

As the company prepared to take their leave, Rabban Sawma embraced each of them. In bidding farewell to Bo Jing, he pressed a coin into his palm.  Bo Jing knew what it was, and confirmed his intuition when he reached the bottom of the cliff. The reddish gold coin of the King of the North.  The last of the four coins.  And the source of the monks’ sudden wealth, some twenty years before.  For it had the power to turn coins of lead—or any other base metal into gold.  Awed by this power and with the lesson of the monks’ downfall in his mind, Bo Jing resolved to conserve its power.  He would live as he always did.  And when he traveled, we would carry only lead coins, turning one or two into gold as needed.

The Unfortten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 3)

Banqiu, Salt, and Bo-Jing concluded unanimously and immediately that because the temple was forbidden to outsiders, they should explore it in secret. And because they all had the means to become invisible through the aid of magic, they decided they would explore it immediately, leaving their associates behind in the guest house.

The temple gate was unlocked and unguarded. They passed through an overgrown garden where a monkey was chained to a small tree and into the towering structure of the temple itself. The floors squeaked under their feet, and they made their way hurriedly through the entryway and into the main altar room.

Upon doing so, Bo-Jing realized that his friends had fallen under some kind of curse. They yelled out in confusion, and ran hurriedly through the temple room, bumping into pillars. The three monks in the room called out to them, asking them to show themselves. Bo-Jing said nothing, but followed his friends by their footsteps, and whispering their names when he got closer to them.

The three invisible explorers, bumbled through the temple and its many side chambers, the monks following close behind. And then Bangqiu stumbled into the private chambers of the abbot, a room bedecked with a great number of wicked-looking idols, many of them stained with blood. Shocked by the horrific sight, he began to regain his senses and called out to Bo-Jing for assistance. Salt, likewise intuited that the monks franticly pursuing her were less trustworthy than the still invisible, but calm-voiced Bo-Jing. He promised that if she would hold onto him, he would lead her to safety. Risking the attention of the monks, he called out to Bangqiu in the strange tongue they had learned in Maztica, and made a plan to flee together. Dodging, the monks and the abbot, the three adventurers retraced their steps and ran out of the temple and back to the guesthouse.

Back in the guest house, Bo-Jing removed his invisibility ring, and informed Ryu and the warriors what had happened. Ryu was able to perform an exorcism spell on Bangqiu. Bangqiu recovered his memory but was so exhausted that he retreated to his chambers to sleep. Bo-Jing ordered a guard and instructed Ryu to perform another exorcism. Ryu agreed, but he needed several hours to prepare the necessary incense and purify his own spirit. Salt, still unable to remember her name and history, nor able to stop being invisible, babbled to herself incessantly until Bo-Jing prepared her some rice. She ate greedily and then fell asleep. Nekhil announced that he would guard her while she slept.

Not long before sundown, there was a knock at the door. Bo-Jing answered the knock.

Two monks, the same pair they had met at the bottom of the stairs were standing there. They wanted to know if their guests were comfortable and if they were hungry. Bo-Jing replied that they were very comfortable and were preparing to retire early after having already eaten their own food. The monks shifted from one foot to the other and then asked if they heard anything strange coming from the temple.

“The temple? Aren’t outsiders forbidden from the temple?”

“Yes, but . . . there were some uninvited spirits there . . . and we want to make sure . . . maybe the spirits came to the guesthouse and have made your minds tired? Maybe we can help?”

Bo-Jing assured the monks that they were only tired from their journey and he looked forward to talking to them in the morning.

The monks wished Bo-Jing goodnight and departed. Bo-Jing closed the door, all but a crack. He watched the monks linger outside the door and then enter the guesthouse by another, previously obscured by a tattered banner and overgrown shrubbery.

Bo-Jing called for Batzorig to accompany him; together, they into the door where the monks had entered. They found a small chapel, warmly lit with glowing candles and adorned in a manner similar to the guesthouse and the rest of the monastery. There was no sign of the monks. Bo-Jing examined the symbols and paintings in the chapel and was comforted to see that they resembled the iconography of the lead coins rather than the abbot’s private shrine. And although the chapel was under the same roof as the guest guesthouse, there was no apparent between it and the rest of the structure.

Bo-Jing returned to his companions and decided to wake up Bangqiu. Still exhausted, the magician nevertheless understood that his special skills were required. Although he would need more rest to grasp his most powerful magic, he was eager to assist Bo-Jing in investigating the newly-discovered chapel.

Working together, the companions discovered that in fact one of the paintings had a moveable panel about halfway up the wall. And sure enough, moving the panel did permit access to the guesthouse itself. While debating whether to pass through this secret door or rush back to the main entrance to warn the others, a solitary hooded figure entered the chapel from the exterior door. This proved not to be a monk, but a wild-haired, fanged monster who rushed at them to attack. Bo-Jing, relying on his magic boots, levitated to safety while Bo-Jing engaged the monster. The brave baghatur allowed the monster to back him into a corner; when the monster lunged at him, Bo-Jing, ducked out of the way and then spun on his heels and drew his sword, pointing it at the monster’s throat. The monster hesitated. In the flickering light of the candles, Bo-Jing confirmed that the monster’s robes were of the same style and fabric as the monks. Despite its fangs and bloodshot eyes, something in its expression reminded him of one of the monks he’d encountered in the temple. Bo-Jing repeated one of the mantras he’d learned from Gaansukh. “Where is your heart? Where is your treasure?”

The monster snarled and lunged, impaling itself on the sword and slashing at Bo-JIngs face with its claws. Despite the horrific wound, it didn’t die. Licking Bo-Jing’s blood from its claws, it continued to attack with vigor. Bo-Jing stood his ground and cut with strength and precision. When Bo-Jing faltered for a moment, Bangqiu descended swiftly, striking the monster with the stone figurine of a dove. Bo-Jing recovered and, with a swift and mighty cut, severed one of the monster’s legs. It collapsed to the ground, and Bo-Jing next removed its head, finally killing it. Bo-Jing and Bangiu elected to go through the secret door and bar it from the inside.

Bangqiu returned to sleep. Ryu meditated next to Salt. Bo-Jing and the warriors separated into two groups, and searched the entire guesthouse, confirming there neither monks nor monsters were hiding in any of the rooms, or in the garden. Only then they rested. Except for Nekhil, who stood guard the whole night.

The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 2)

 

Salt and Bo Jing asked some questions in Banua and found an old, grizzled man who claimed that indeed, the monks of the lead coins did still live AND he knew where to find them.

Although they had some questions about their guide’s sanity, Salt and Bo Jing agreed that they should follow their curiosity.  Bo-Jing asked Ryu and three of his most trusted warriors to accompany him. Nekhil volunteered to join the party as Salt’s bodyguard. Their mysterious friend Bangqiu told them he’d follow them from the shadows and lend assistance if they got into danger.

The trip to the monastery was arduous, but uneventful.  They moved beyond the grasslands where the Naran horde grazed their animals into the barren lands and then the mountains beyond.  They caught sight of the monastery perched high on a cliff above and as they reached the steep cascade of broken steps leading up to it, a pair of monks appeared to meet them.  They gave warm greetings to the guide, who introduced Salt and Bo-Jing.  The monks expressed their gratitude at having visitors to interrupt their solitude. One of the monks started to lead the party up the steps while the other lingered to speak to the guide.

On the way up the steps, Bo-Jing quizzed the monk about his beliefs and soon became suspicious. Unlike the monks described by Gaansukh, who pulled profound lessons from prosaic events, this man showed little interest or ability in discussing the tenets of his faith.  Rather than explain the remarkable carvings in the stone steps, the monk stated they were “mysteries” whose meaning could only be explained to those who were “ready.”

The party passed through the gates of the monastery. Their horses were taken to the stables and they were welcomed to the guest house.  Though it was late in the day, their guide would not stay with them, and hadn’t even followed them up the stairs, but instead already started his return to the settled lands.  The monks told the party to make themselves at home in the guest house and to feel free to explore the monastery—except for the temple.  That was closed to the uninitiated.

The Unforgotten Monks of the Lead Coins (Part 1)

In the weeks following the expedition to the barrier peaks lands of the people of the trees, Bo-Jing’s mind turned to another mystery, that of the four coins, especially, the “fourth coin,” the lead medallion, he had found secreted in a cave, accompanied by a cryptic note: where your treasure is, your heart will be also.

He consulted a few shamans, and learned that as recently as 10 years ago, such coins had been relatively commonplace—at least among wealthy merchants—for they were typically made of gold. Another visit to the shrine of Sum Sakhius brought additional guidance. Gaansukh first negotiated a trade—he had in his own possession a gold version of the coin and wanted Bo-Jing’s lead one. And, once the trade was accomplished, he explained why.

As a boy, he had known monks from a mysterious brotherhood, who traded in lead coins. They refused to beg and whenever they found themselves with wealth or currency of any kind, they gave it away, saying “This is not of me or for me.” The lead medallions were “gifts” or “mementos” and they gave these away to anyone who gifted them—a warm bed, a sack of grain, a horse, a friendly greeting—any of these might be received as a gift.. “And I have something to share with you,” the monk would reply, producing a lead medallion marked with birds arranged around the four points of a compass. Most likely, no matter how cheap or valuable the thing they received, the monk would give only one of the cheap lead medallions—or “cross coins” as the people called them,. Gansukh himself once owned seven of the cross coins and, following the lessons of one keen-eyed monks could tell them apart based on irregularities in their casting and the way they’d worn over the years.

Over time, the novelty wore off and traders demanded “real money” whenever the monks passed through, asking whether anyone had the heart to help them. Eventually, the monks were treated like criminals and strongly discouraged from entering Banua.

But then one day, they reappeared, this time bearing cross coins made of gold. Rather than give them away, they used them just like currency, purchasing staple provisions, horses, tools, and building materials. Over times, they hired laborers while also buying more luxurious items and more and more building materials. They also repurchased the lead coins they distributed years before.

Despite speculation, Gaansukh never heard a definitive answer on what the monks were working on.

There was likewise speculation about what the monks were doing today. Not since the time of Gaansukh’s father had they been seen in Banua or anywhere else off the mountain ridge where their monastery was located. There was a half-crazy man who claimed to know how to find them, and who sometimes offered his services to merchants. But this man was very secretive and most assumed that he knew nothing about the monks, and was instead in league with a bandit of robbers.

This mystery was part of why,,Gaansukh confessed, he had once encouraged Bo-Jing to pursue his tax-collection efforts to the mountains monks. “Not to set you before robbers, because I knew the Bolad people were honest, but because I wanted to believe the monks still live.”

Expedition to the People of the Trees

 Over the weeks that followed, Bo-Jing and Narantsetseg received delegations from the Eagle and Worm clans, expressing gratitude, congratulations, and a wish for on-going peace among their peoples, supported by respect for the ancient borders.

Bo-Jing asked about the People of the Trees.  The delegations from the Eagle and Worm clans offered no other explanation except that the People of the Trees rarely communicated with he other clans. Bo-Jing paid a visit to Gaansukh.  Gaansukh agreed, but with an important clarification. Walking with Bo-Jing in a great circle around the walls of Sum Sakhius he shared his own theory. When he searched his own memory, Gaansukh failed to find an incident when he had encountered a representative from the People of the Trees.  He didn’t believe his father had either.  Nor his grandfather.  In the stories about “all the clans” the People of the Trees were never described.  No individuals were ever named.  His father could describe the flavor of goat he ate in the low dark hall of the Khan of the worm clan.  Remembering a visit to the lands of the Eagle Clan, he and his retinue sometimes sang the welcoming song of the young women who had rode out to meet them. Gaansukh stopped and leaned against the stupa. “I cannot believe that anyone has ever entered the lands of the People of the Trees or met those People, if there are any People there.  And yet, even in this holy place, when I say this, I feel . . . it is time to refresh ourselves with some tea.”

Hearing this strange stories, Bo-Jing resolved to visit the lands of the People of the Trees and find out for himself.  He wanted the company of Salt and his best men, and also his bride. Hoping for a friendly welcome, they selected fine clothes and gifts for their hosts.

The first part of the journey was agreeable as they passed through the reunified Naran horde where the people where people were glad to meet their new Khan and Khatun.  While evidence of the beastmen’s depredations remained, these reminders of recent horrors strengthened their resolve to create a better future and to honor their lost loved ones with a spirit of cheer and generosity.

But as the travelers approached the border, they were overcome by feelings of loneliness.  In the evenings, there were no welcoming fires, and the travelers were forced to make their own camp.  Each morning, Bo-Jing, even as he set his horse toward the forest on the still-distant horizon, he looked back wistfully at the sunny grasslands where they would be gratefully received by his own people.  On the day when they rode down a slight slope toward the trees, Ryu asked out loud, “Tell us again, what is our mission here?”

Bo-Jing could not answer.  The horses slowed to a walk and then stopped to graze.  Everyone dismounted to stretch out in the grass. Except Narantsetseg.  After dismounting, she walked toward the trees.  Bo-Jing, Batzorig, and Salt tentatively followed after her; the others hesitated for a moment, but the hurried after them.  They heard the horses starting to trot away.  Zhang and Gan-Wei were ordered back to guard them.  The rest pressed into the forest, all of them except Narantsetseg nearly overcome by an unnatural mix of apathy and panic.

In time they came to a clearing and encountered those who might be the People of the Trees.  They were more like trees than people— their skin was a range of greenish hues, some more yellow, some more brown, and the smaller ones being the color of a spring leaf.  In their vine-like fingers, they wielded crude spears and axes-- their jagged metal blades fixed with wire. With these weapons they had brought down a deer and were now butchering it into quarters.

Bo-Jing shouted a friendly greeting.  The dozen or so treepeople turned their faces toward him.  Their heads were like vegetables, with tiny pits for eyes and mouths that were deeper holes surrounded by root-like tendrils.  The treepeople returned Bo-Jing’s greeting, all speaking at once in voices that were too far from human speech to be duplicated, much less understand. Nevertheless, they made it evident that they were happy to see Bo-Jing and his companions.  Using the butt ends of their spears they pointed out a path out of the clearing and urged the humans to accompany them.  The green treepeople led the way and the others followed behind the party, encouraging them to press on. The deer carcass was forgotten.

It was late afternoon when they came to a rocky hillside where erosion had exposed two doors.  One was at ground level, a gate of shiny metal, firmly closed.  The other, about 30 yards up the side of the hill, was open; a soft light glowed evenly from within.  The party was guided by the treepeople up the hillside to the open door. The space inside oddly-furnished; all surfaces were sheathed in gleaming metal and a material like polished ivory or bone. Beyond the brightly-lit entry way, wide corridors led into darkness.  While the smaller treepeople disappeared down one hallway, the party was urged forwards with some urgency and even aggression.  When Bo-Jing, who was leading the party, hesitated, large treeperson with brownish purple splotches prodded him forcefully with a spear butt, sending him flying into a pit.  The party, perhaps relieved to have their suspicions confirmed, defended themselves with full force. Salt killed the treeman closest to her with a barrage of magic missiles, giving her space to flee from the edge of the pit. Gan Yul and the other warriors drew their swords and hacked down the stalky flesh of the treepeople, sending them into a full retreat.  Salt would not allow them to escape and with a blast of steam reduced them to a green puply mass.

Bo-Jing meanwhile had fallen over fifty feet, and landed in a bright room filled with hulking animal-like creatures made of metal.  Though badly injured in his fall, Bo-Jing raised himself up.  Noticing handles on the side of the pit, he began to climb back up. In the course of his climb, he was amazed by many strange sights including an extensive garden filled with plants he had never seen.  Also on the way back up, he was ambushed by another treeman.  The creature’s spear failed to penetrate his armor and Bo-Jing grabbed hold of the weapon to push the treeman off the ladder and into the pit. By the time Bo-Jing reached the top of the pit, the rest of the party had overcome their attackers.  Ryu and Narantsetseg tended to Bo-Jing’s wounds while Salt and Ryu surveyed their surroundings.  The door to the outside had been closed.  Looking down the corridor in which the treepeople had fled, they could see light in the distance.  Another corridor led into darkness.  The corridors were lined with closed metal doors.

The party elected to go down the dark corridor.  They encountered and fought a smaller group of treepeople.  One of their number carried three vividly colored cards, made of an odd material, durable like bone, but more pliable than wood.  Using these cards, they were able to open one of the closed doors and then close it from the inside.

The room was softly-lit and luxurious furnished with metal tables, brightly-dyed carpets, and leather settees. Exhausted by their experiences, the party collapsed into sleep.  Only Narantsetseg had the prescene of mind to stay awake, asking her brother to watch with her for anything that might try to open the door or make use of any unseen entrances.

Several hours passed without any incident, except for the gradual brightening of the light, which seemed to emanate from the very air. When everyone had rested, the party decided to further explore the strange structure.  They were assaulted by other strange creatures including black lions with spiky tentacles growing out of their shoulders.  And they found the central lair of the treepeople—a series of small rooms filled with rotting animal corpses on which very small treepeople were feeding. They fought and won another large battle with treepeople warriors and hunters and recovered more of the strange cards.  And, by the chance, the party returned to the door by which they had first been herded into the treepeople’s home.  It was open and, outside it was daytime.  Though fascinated by the strange place they had discovered, the party realized that they were likely to discover many more dangerous creatures within and that the treepeople might number easily number in the hundreds.  Though they had overcome the previous vague sense of dread, they understood that unless they took this opportunity to escape, they would likely be killed.  Therefore, they left the city of the People of the Trees and passed through the forests to the comfort of the sunny grasslands of Naran.

The Most Fortunate Khatun

Bo Jing led a triumphant but weary, slow march back to Banua. Alert as always, but relaxed, he let his horse choose its pace, with the others following. The air was fresh with the hint of coming spring.

Towards evening, the party noticed the glow of campfires among a large cluster of yurts. Approaching, they heard singing and laughter and smiled at each other, wondering if the people of the Bolad horde knew what good reason they had to celebrate. Zhang was wary but Batzorig urged his companions onwards. “I know the song they are singing from my earliest days. These are not howling beastmen, but good people, enjoying their birthright. And with our news, we will be most welcome surprise guests!”

But it was the guests who were most surprised. The feast was sumptuous, the music unending, the hosts most richly arrayed and the guests fully expected. The high host was a man in bright green clothes. He accompanied the musicians on a fiddle, danced with all the women, and joked with all the men. He was the King of the East. This feast was to celebrate his daughter Narantsetseg and perhaps to honor Bo-Jing as his son-in-law?

Bo-Jing married Narantsetseg and the feast continued over several nights and days. Each night, the King of the East asked one of Bo-Jing’s companions to re-tell the story of how they had come to the lands of the Cradle of Humanity (“that is the old name of what you call the Valley of Fires, four, five, six, how many fires?”) and their campaign against the Beastmen and defeat of their evil leader. And one evening, when he was talking to Bo-Jing next to a low fire, he asked, “I think you have something that belongs to me?”

And so Bo-Jing gave up another of the four coins, this time to one whose face matched that of the coin and the King responded with deep gratitude. “You have shown me that you are brave, honorable, and generous. All who meet you will see this in your face.”

The King restored Narantsetseg’s hearing and gave his blessing to Batzorig, thanking him for his kindness as her elder brother, and forgiving him for any unfortunate incidents along the way. He gave gifts of gold, fine new clothes and a suit of armor for Bo-Jing’s flying steed.

And so the heroes returned to Banua, coming from a feast instead of a battle. The attacks on the city had ended, and scouting parties had found no signs of bestmen for several days. And so the people of Banua, accepted Bo-Jing’s good news with satisfaction and also prepared to celebrate. There were several days of joyful gatherings, but the songs were bittersweet for the losses had been great.

Gaansukh opened the palace and set Bo-Jing upon his council chair. He was ready to retire. He had done his best to protect his people, but his failures were many and the rain of forgiveness does not fall inside a palace. He would go with a few of his closest advisors to the shrine at Sum Sakhius.

The people would select their Khan, but Bo-Jing had loved them as a tax collector, he had re-united the Naran horde, he had defeated their enemy. “Do you know I was once suspicious of you? But you are a man of bravery, honor, and generosity. And now I see it on your very face!”

And so the people of Bolad and Nergui, reunited as the Naran horde, called on Bo-Jing to be their Khan. The Emperor summoned Bo-Jing to Khanbaliq to recognize his khanship. He asked Bo-Jing to pledge his loyalty and named him protector of the Barrier Peaks. As long as Bo-Jing and the Naran would protect the Empire’s border, they would pay no Imperial taxes.

The Most Unfortunate Khatun: Part 3

Bo-Jing was an expert tracker, and the beastmen who had taken Narantsetseg made little effort to conceal their passage. For three days the companions and their warbands followed them northward, until the trail entered a dense, swampy thicket at the northern edge of the Naran horde's domain, where the lands of the recently reunited Bolad and Nergui hordes gave way to wilderness.

It was a place ill suited to an army. Thorny hedges tore at clothing and flesh, the mud stank of decay, and a thick reddish mist hung over the stagnant ground. The allied horsemen could go no farther. Bo-Jing and Tetsukichi therefore left the warbands behind to secure their retreat and entered the thicket with together with the powerful sorcerers Bangqiu, Hyamsam, and Salt and a small company of trusted companions. Salt, the young shaman whose magical powers had already grown considerably, was accompanied by Nekhil, her bodyguard, always ready to stand between the shaman and enemies who came too close. Mustapha, one of Tetsukichi's trusted retainers and a skilled illusionist, also joined the company.

The swampy thicket resisted them at every turn. They fought several small bands of beastmen before finally reaching its fetid heart. There they discovered the purpose for which Narantsetseg had been taken.

More than a hundred beastmen and other corrupted creatures crowded around a clearing. At its center Narantsetseg lay chained upon a black altar. Above her stood the Beast Master, one of the Master's lieutenants who had led the siege against Banua, dressed in black robes and holding a ritual knife above her body. Three witches chanted beside him. Around them the beastmen took up the chant until the entire thicket seemed to pulse with their voices.

Behind the altar stood a grotesque blue-black image of a horned demon, glowing faintly from within. Above it all, thick clouds have been drawn into the rite: clouds twisted into a vast blood-red vortex, while the reddish vapor rose ever thicker from the swamp.

The companions remained concealed at the edge of the clearing and quickly devised a plan. Bangqiu and the others rendered Bo-Jing and Tetsukichi invisible. Mustapha then conjured the appearance of a large attacking force emerging from the opposite side of the thicket.

The deception worked. Scores of beastmen rushed away from the altar to meet enemies who did not exist, while Bo-Jing's retainers sent arrows into their confused ranks. Yet the Beast Master and his witches did not abandon the ceremony. Their chanting continued.

Invisible, Bo-Jing crossed the clearing and struck the Beast Master without warning, wounding him grievously. Tetsukichi appeared beside him and held the three witches at bay while Bo-Jing pressed his attack. Even under the flashing strokes of Bo-Jing's swords, the Beast Master struggled desperately to continue the rite.

He received little aid from his witches. Salt, Bangqiu, and Hyamsam unleashed their magic upon them from the edge of the clearing. When two of the witches fell, Tetsukichi turned from the last of them and joined Bo-Jing against the Beast Master. Caught between two of the finest swordsmen of their generation, the Master's lieutenant finally fell beneath a flurry of blows.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then something happened that none of the companions understood.

A green-golden wind swept suddenly across the thicket. The blood-red clouds tore apart above them. The foul mist vanished. Wherever the wind passed, the beastmen and the other creatures gathered for the sacrifice disappeared in a blinding flash of fire, leaving neither pursuit nor battle behind them.

Bo-Jing remembered little of what followed. When his senses returned, the red sky was gone, the thicket had fallen strangely quiet, and Narantsetseg's chains no longer bound her.

She was alive.

And somehow, he found her safe in his arms.