Save the Last Bullet for God (26 page)

…

Night was falling. As I, covered in blood,
looked for more lives to take, someone grabbed me from behind and
used his knee to bring me low. I would have beaten him, too, if I
could have, but I was unable to move.

“It’s over,” a familiar voice said. “Calm
down!”

It was Sobutay.

“The fight ended hours ago,” he said,
leaning over me, “but we couldn’t calm you down. You continued. I
would have watched you with pleasure, but you began to attack our
own soldiers.”

I was so exhausted. If Sobutay hadn’t helped
me stand, I would have probably slept among the dead. In the
twilight, I gazed upon the endless corpse sea, the frozen mud of
blood and intestines, the abandoned and dead horses, and the smoke
of extinguished fires. It was like other battlefield scenes, with
one difference: the lack of prisoners.

I watched as bodies were piled and five
hundred sacks were filled with the ears of the dead—200,000 in
total, enough flesh and bone to cover the soil.

When I arrived at the tent, the snow
flurries and frost had already caused my wounds to form scabs. My
armor was so shredded that snowflakes easily exploited the gaps and
fell against my naked body. I groaned as the remains of my armor
were removed and felt about to faint as I lay on the ground in the
warm sent with servant girls and shamans beside me attending to my
wounds.

“You look much worse than the fur of your
wolf. There is nowhere on you that isn’t torn,” the shaman
said.

Before he could say one more thing, I
grabbed him by his hair and pressed his head to the ground. “How
dare you?!” I hissed. “Now go and pray for the soul of the wolf,
perform the ceremony, and bring me a piece of his fur. Then be out
of my sight!”

The shaman left the tent, silent except for
the clatter of his bone and bead jewelry. Amidst the cold and quiet
of the dark, the servant girls applied ointment and bandaged my
wounds. I fell asleep shivering.

…

I woke up tired, hungry, and thirsty. The
woman next to me told me I had been asleep for two days. Next to me
were a few plates of half-consumed food and some cups of water. The
servants must have made me eat. I looked around frantically and
found what I was looking for. There it was! The piece of fur, about
one-and-a-half hands wide, had been cleaned and now shined
bluish-gray even in the dim light.

The female caretaker called the guard and
helped me dress quickly. After I exited the tent, I realized we had
moved. Even though I was used to waking up in different seasons and
places, I was still baffled by what I saw: a giant plain that
dwarfed our endless tents and enormous army. In the middle of this
plain was a magnificent stone wall reaching up to the sky and
stretching toward the horizons, a wall made of fortresses and
towers signifying the upper limit of civilization.

I suddenly felt an inexplicable anger. It
was an anger that cleared all my fatigue away. As memories briefly
appeared, piece by piece, before again disappearing, my rage moved
from my chest to my throat, and I reached my boiling point, ready
to attack those around me.

It was the sound of a small set of armor and
footsteps that discouraged me. Suddenly, a little monster jumped on
me and hugged me. It was my little brother, Tuluy, the young
prince, greeting me with his childish excitement.

“My brother…you scared us a lot. You’ve been
unconscious for days, and I’ve listened to stories of your battle
many times.”

I removed his helmet (which was
significantly bigger than his head) and tussled his pitch-black
hair.

“Tell me! Tell me a real story from a real
hero!” he said, now jumping around me excitedly. “But tell me from
the beginning!”

“Alright! I will. I promise. But first, let
me have a rest. When both of us are watching the stars, I’ll tell
you everything by the warmth of the fire, I promise. Meanwhile, you
can tell me what happened while I was asleep.”

My brother bounced as he dragged me, not
letting go of my hand.

“At night, we stayed beside the
battlefield,” he said. “There were sounds of jackals and wolves all
night long; five hundred sacks of ears were collected. The sky was
full of vultures in the morning, and it was always dark. Father
said that he didn’t want any prisoners. There were a few anyway,
and they ended up in pits. Before the corpses began to stink, we
packed up the tents and set off. We rode with Uncle Hazar for two
days without stopping. There were no trees. It was all plain and
green.”

He continued. “All the villages we passed by
were empty. We plundered as many supplies and spoils from the
villages as possible, and we set fire to each place just before we
left. In the distance, we saw the villagers trying to run away.
Uncle Hazar sent the cavalry to kill them and plunder their
supplies.”

Tuluy saw me gazing on the walls of the
fortress. “We’ve been here for two days,” he said. “Such an
enormous fortress, isn’t it? They say it is the only one of its
kind in the world. It’s as tall as twenty men. On the first day, we
carried out a small attack to test its shooting range. Their
archers are weak, but there are machines on the towers that shoot
arrows so big, you wouldn’t believe it. Thick spears as tall as two
men! They’re so strong, they can even kill a man with their
wind.”

“Then...then...,” Tuluy went on excitedly,
“Father sent a messenger and told them if they surrendered, he
wouldn’t kill anyone. He had the white tent pitched near the door
of the fortress where everyone could see. But, as you know, when
the tent becomes black, there is no forgiveness. Our soldiers are
already digging to find the enemy’s water supply. Father said if we
don’t run into difficulty, we can poison it.”

“How long would a fortress without an army
stand anyway, brother?” he asked. “Do you think people would come
for help? This fortress has never fallen and has never been
defeated. We might be here for months. No one has dared to lay a
siege for such a long time, not since the time of the father’s
great grandfather.”

“How can these people live in such a closed
place without moving in the wide plains—without changing places?”
he asked. “How can they find fresh pasture without searching? If
you stay in the same place, your enemies can find you. You can’t
even run away. You can’t take those big houses and big walls with
you. When you run away, you leave everything behind, right,
brother? Can you believe that they don’t even have tents?
Everything is made of stone. They don’t move. They are so strange,
aren’t they? They live so differently. There must be no wind behind
those walls; they must not be able to breathe.”

Half-listening to my brother and without
interrupting his monologue, I walked toward the tent of the Khan
accompanied by the awed gazes of others. All who saw us lowered
their heads in greeting, but I looked at no one and pretended to
give all my attention to my brother.

My elder brother, Ögheday, came out of the
tent and headed toward me. When the future Khan stood in front of
me, he put his hand on my shoulder and asked me with a timid and
insincere voice, “Brother, how are you?”

“As you see,” I said, slowly slipping away
from the hand on my shoulder.

“I’m really sorry about the wolf,” he said.
“I know how precious it was to you.”

He seemed sincere when he said it, but he
must have known that what he had just said would be the beginning
of his end. Tuluy came closer to me and held my hand tight,
discouraging me from retaliating.

Staring at Ogheday, my hand unconsciously
moved toward the piece of fur on my waist. I stopped myself, lifted
my head, and moved toward the door of the tent.

On the far side of the giant tent, my father
sat in the middle of a few commanders who were deep in discussion.
However, when I entered, they stopped talking and turned my way,
and my father stood up and headed toward me, his face bright.

My father hugged me tight, something he
hadn’t done in a long time. He didn’t say anything, but his gesture
still meant a lot. I hesitantly brought my hands up to return his
embrace and we stayed like that for a while. When we pulled away,
my father sent everyone away with his sharp gaze.

We were alone, and it was calm inside except
for the sound of the wind whipping against the tent. My father
silently took his place, and I quickly sat down beside him.

He caressed the bandaged wound on his leg as
he spoke. “I’ve seen many wars,” he said. “I’ve fought countless
battles. I’ve been close to death many times, but this is the first
time that I truly believed I would die.”

I began to reply, but he gently silenced me
and continued. “Maybe not the first time. Still, I was about to
send regrets of what I’ve done to the Tengri. It is said that I am
only scared of dogs, you know, but I think this time, I was also
scared of death.”

His smile was sincere as he talked, but
still, he watched me. He realized that anything he said about dogs
might be misunderstood. When he got a forced smile from me, he went
on.

“I’m truly sorry for your wolf sacrificing
itself for me like that. His warmth and closeness when he jumped on
my back gave me strength. I suddenly rediscovered my confidence
among my enemies. But…I suppose we don’t want to reopen that wound.
We both know that the tie between the two of us is beyond our blood
and beyond words. You are one of the rare people that I trust on
the battlefield.”

“Father, there is no need to explain. You
are the ruler of everything between two seas. That includes our
lives. I know you don’t love me, and I accept that. But I also know
you respect me. This is enough for me. You have more important
duties than defining the fate of the Mongolian nation. I believe
there is something beyond our nation’s glory, although I can’t say
for sure what it is. I don’t know whether even history will
know…”

After a short period of silence, I stared at
him and continued. “Since I was born, I’ve been with you, whether
you wanted it that way or not, but I feel that in the near future,
our paths will separate, and for the first time, I will ask you for
something.”

I realized that as I spoke, I had turned my
eyes to the ground, and my hand had moved involuntarily to the fur
under my belt.

My father remained still but looked slightly
confused. “Except for the throne, you can ask for whatever you
want,” he said in a sharp, confident voice. “Including my
life.”

“No matter what people say,” he continued,
“my thoughts will not change. You are the eldest son of Börte, the
only woman that I love, and I know you as my son. There is nothing
else. But, like everyone else, I also know you are different, and
you are a guest among us. I understand that there are things beyond
my mind that are only known by Tengri, and I accept it. I am
responsible for those who live on this Earth. The rest is beyond
me.”

“There are a thousand nations, a thousand
religions,” he went on. “Even the Chinese, on whose doorstep we
stand, have a religion, and I stand at the same distance from all
of them. I do not understand them, but I do not believe they are an
obstacle. I kill someone if I have to, but I don’t decide to which
God his soul goes.”

“Father, that is not the issue. Just know
that I am with you, and I am in your service. But no matter what,
when the right time comes—if it comes—help me. Do not refuse me.
That’s my only wish.”

“My son, consider it granted,” he
replied.

I hadn’t heard the word “son” for a long
time. I didn’t want to prolong the conversation or get emotional,
so I stood up, said farewell, and rapidly exited the tent.

…

The siege was long. From time to time, we
made weak attempts to attack, but mostly we waited. We, the wolves,
waited in ambush with patience and caution; they, the ones on the
peak of civilization, waited with fear and impatience. As time
passed, they ran low on supplies and hope. Sometimes, we also lost
hope, but we kept waiting as the despair of those locked inside the
walls increased. They ran out of water, and we received news that
they had begun to kill each other for rainwater. They ran out of
supplies, and cannibalism became a common practice. The worst was
the morning: an increasing number of people decided not to endure
hopelessness and did not to want to become food for others, so they
let themselves fall from the walls. Sometimes soldiers, sometimes
civilians. No matter. All fell at the same speed.

The tent at the door of the fortress had now
been black for a long time, and, for those in despair, it was an
incubus. Death would be upon those who couldn’t get help from the
outside. But how much pain awaited them was uncertain.

One evening, just before sundown, hundreds
of young women in white dresses appeared along the top of the walls
of the fortress. They stood in silence for a moment and then, in
what resembled a ritual, let themselves fall. We didn’t understand
the meaning and I confess we weren’t affected much. We merely
watched as the white gowns fluttered in the air and piled like
bloody broken snow on the grass below.

…

The seasons changed and the horses were sent
to faraway meadows to pasture. The soldiers and those who weren’t
used to living in the same place for a long time were restless and
tired of waiting. We were ready to leave and move on as soon as
possible. Finally, the little emperor of the civilization behind
the walls surrendered the fortress and accepted our terms.

My father accepted ownership of the fortress
on condition that the emperor and his followers left. Beijing had
fallen. The greatest civilization was at our feet. We wouldn’t kill
anyone. We would only plunder and tax the locals. At night, the
emperor and his inner circle left the fortress with a caravan under
our escort. The soldiers threw their weapons over the walls, an
activity that lasted all night. In the morning, the doors were wide
open.