appeared. Instead, he had found it gave him great amusement to see men and women scurrying away at every turn, convinced their lives were at stake if he so much as glimpsed them.
He increased his pace, grinning as servants darted into side rooms far ahead, word passing quickly that the khan was on the prowl. Without pausing, he pushed open the copper doors and entered his audience room.
Sorhatani was there, as well as Yao Shu, his father’s old chancellor. A dozen others waited their turn and tried not to show that they had been in that room for half a day before the khan bothered to show himself. Guyuk ignored them all and walked across the stone floor to a gilded chair, set with stones of lapis lazuli so that it glittered in the light from the windows. At least the air was freshened by a breeze from outside. He had become accustomed to Chin habits of bathing and the stink of unwashed flesh could make him retch in close rooms.
Sorhatani studied every detail of the entrance he had made, controlling her expression carefully. She could have spoken first, but she and Yao Shu had agreed an order in the hours of waiting. Again, she felt the sting of insult, as if she had no other work than to wait on Guyuk while he played games with servants. None of that could be allowed to show. She had to remember his word was law, that he could take her lands or her life at the first sign of anger in her face. Perhaps it was better that Yao Shu should open the proceedings. The old man had perfected his court manner and it was rare that she could see the emotions beneath it.
‘My lord khan,’ Yao Shu began, approaching Guyuk and bowing deeply. He held a sheaf of parchments and Guyuk eyed them with distaste. ‘There are a great number of things that only the khan can decide.’ Guyuk looked as if he might respond, but Yao Shu went straight on before he could speak. ‘The governor of eastern Koryo requests a tuman be sent to repel the sea thieves who are raiding his coast. This is the third time he has sent emissaries to Karakorum.’ Yao Shu paused for breath, but Guyuk only settled himself more comfortably in the seat.
‘Go on, Yao Shu, what else?’ Guyuk asked pleasantly.
‘We have tumans in the Chin territories, my lord. Shall I send word on the yam that they can go to his aid?’
Guyuk waved a hand. ‘Very well, send two. What else?’
Yao Shu blinked to find Guyuk in this odd mood. He went on quickly, determined to take advantage while he could.
‘The … um, Xi Xia governor claims that taxes have been set too high for his region. There has been a plague in the countryside there and he has lost perhaps half of those who work the fields. He asks for a year without taxes to rebuild.’
‘No, he is my vassal.’
‘My lord, if we could make a gesture, he would be a stronger ally in the future.’
‘And have every small man crying at my doors as a result. I have said no, chancellor. Move on to the next.’
Yao Shu nodded, shuffling his papers quickly.
‘I have more than eighty requests for marriage here, my lord.’
‘Put them aside. I will read them in my chambers. Are there any of special note?’
‘No, my lord,’ Yao Shu replied.
‘Then go on.’
Yao Shu was growing flustered, Sorhatani could see. In the past, Guyuk had been lazy, barely able to mask his impatience while his councillors talked. Making decisions at this speed was so unlike him that she could only wonder at what he was trying to demonstrate to them. Distaste for Guyuk made her stomach clench. His father would not have ignored word of a plague in his lands so easily, as if the thousands of dead did not matter at all, as if it could not spread. She listened to Yao Shu talk of the need for shipbuilding and the sneering tone as Guyuk refused to spend the funds needed. Yet they had a coast in Chin lands and there were nations outside it that rode the waves with skills the Mongols could hardly imagine.
Yao Shu covered dozens of topics and received quick answers each time. Sorhatani groaned to herself at some of them, but at least it was better than the stagnation of previous days. The world would not stand still while Guyuk hunted with his pretty birds. The light changed outside and Guyuk had food and drink brought for himself, though he ignored the needs of those others present. At last, after hours, Yao Shu stepped back and she was free to speak.
As Sorhatani came forward, she saw Guyuk suppress a yawn.
‘I think that is enough for the day,’ he said. ‘You will be first tomorrow, Sorhatani.’
‘My lord,’ she said, aghast as a ripple of discontent spread through the crowded room. There were others there that he could not afford to ignore, important men who had travelled far to see him. She steeled herself to go on. ‘My lord, the day is still young. Can you at least say whether Batu has replied to his summons? Is he coming to Karakorum, lord, to take the oath?’
Guyuk paused in the act of leaving to turn back to her.
‘That is not the business of my councillors, Sorhatani,’ he said in a reproving tone. ‘I have that in hand.’ His smile was unpleasant and Sorhatani wondered for the first time if he had sent the order to Batu at all.
‘Go on with your work,’ Guyuk called over his shoulder as he reached the doors. ‘The nation does not sleep.’
At dawn the following morning, Sorhatani was woken by her servants. She still had her suite of rooms in the palace, given to her when she aided Torogene through the crisis years that followed Ogedai’s death. Guyuk had not yet had the nerve to take those from her, though she thought it would come in time as he consolidated his power. She sat up straight in bed as her chamberlain knocked at the door, his head bowed low so that he would not catch a glimpse of his mistress. No one in the nation slept naked, but Sorhatani had fallen into the Chin habit of wearing just the lightest of silk robes to bed and there had been embarrassing scenes before her servants learned her ways.
She knew something was wrong as soon as she saw the man standing there rather than one of the young women who helped her to bathe and dress each morning.
‘What is it?’ she said sleepily.
‘Your son Kublai, mistress. He says he must speak with you. I told him to come back when you are dressed, but he would not leave.’
Sorhatani stifled a smile at the man’s poorly concealed irritation. Kublai could have that effect on people. Only the presence of her personal guards could have prevented him from storming in.
She pulled on a heavier robe, tying it around her waist as she padded out into a room lit by the soft grey of dawn. Sorhatani shivered as she saw Kublai there, dressed in dark blue silk. He looked up as she entered and glanced out of the window at the rising sun.
‘At last, mother!’ he said, though he smiled to see her tousled and still sleepy. ‘The khan is taking the tumans away from the city.’
He gestured to the window and Sorhatani followed him, staring out over the plains. Her rooms were high enough to see far and she could make out the dark masses of horsemen riding in formation. She thought of the way cloud shadows slipped across the land in summer, but her mouth tightened and her thoughts cleared suddenly.
‘Did Guyuk tell you he was taking them out?’ Kublai asked.
His mother shook her head, though it hurt to admit she had not been taken
