The Horse Barbarians

21

The four guards ran into the room half carrying Jason, then hurled him to the floor. He rolled over and got to his knees.

“Get out,” Temuchin ordered his men, and kicked Jason hard on the side of his head, knocking him down again. When Jason sat up, there was a livid bruise covering the side of his face.

“I suppose that there is a reason for this,” he said quietly.

Temuchin opened and closed his great hands in fury, but said nothing. He stamped the length of the ornate room, his trailing prickspurs scratching deep gouges in the inlaid marble of the floor. At the far end he stood for a moment, looking out of the high windows and across the city below. Then he reached up suddenly and pulled at the tapestry drapes, tearing them down in a sudden spasm of effort. The iron ban that supported them fell as well, but he caught it before it touched the floor and hurled it through the many-paned window. There was the crashing fall of breaking glass far below.

“I have lost!” he shouted, almost an animal howl of pain.

“You’ve won,” Jason told him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Let us not pretend any more,” Temuchin answered, turning to face him, a frozen calm replacing the anger. “You knew what would happen.”

“I knew that you would win, and you have. The armies fell before you and the people fled. Your horde has overrun the land and your captains rule in every city. While you rule here in Eolasair, lord of the entire world.”

“Do not play with me, demon. I knew this would happen. I just did not think that it would happen so quickly. You could have allowed me more time.”

“Why?” Jason asked, climbing to his feet. Now that Temuchin had realized the truth, there was no longer any point in concealment. “You said that by accepting you would lose.”

“I did. Of course.” Temuchin straightened his back and looked Unseeingly out the window. “I just had not realized how much I would lose. I was a fool. I thought that only my own life was at stake. I did not realize that my people, our life, would die as well.” He turned on Jason. “Give it back to them. Take me, but let them return.”

“I cannot.”

“You will not!” Temuchin shouted, rushing on Jason, grabbing him up by the neck and shaking him like an empty goatskin. “Change it, I command you.” He loosened his grip slightly so that Jason could gasp in air and speak.

“I cannot, and I would not even if I could. In winning, you lost, and that is just the way I want it. The life you knew has ended and I would not have it any other way.”

“You knew this all along,” Temuchin said almost gently, releasing his grasp. ‘This was my fate and you knew it. You let it happen. Why?”

“For a number of reasons.”

“Tell me one.”

“Mankind can do very well without your way of life. We have had enough killing and bloody murder in our history. Live your life out, Temuchin, and die peacefully. You are the last of your kind and the galaxy will be a better place for your ending.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“There are others. I want the off-wonders to dig their mines on your plains. They can do that now.”

“In winning I lost. There must be a word for this kind of happening.”

“There is. It was a ‘Pyrrhic victory.’ I wish I could say that I am sorry for you, but I’m not. You’re a tiger in a pit, Temuchin. I can admire your muscles and your temper and I know that you used to be lord of the jungle. But now I’m glad that you are trapped.” Without looking toward the door, Jason took a short step in its direction.

“There is no escape, demon,” Temuchin said.

“Why? I cannot harm you, or help you any more.”

“Nor can I kill you. A demon, being dead already, cannot be killed. But the human flesh you wear can be tortured. That I shall do. Your torture will last as long as I live. This is a small return for all that I have lost, but it is all that I have to offer. We have much to look forward to, demon…”

Jason did not hear the nest as he bolted through the door, head down and running as fast as he could. The two guards at the far end of the hall heard his pounding feet and turned, lowering their spears. He did not slow or attempt to avoid them, but fell instead and slid, feet first, under their spears and cannoning into them. They fell in a tangle and, for one instant, Jason was held by the arm. But he chopped with the edge of his hand, breaking the restraining wrist, and was free. Scrambling to his feet, he hurled himself down the stairwell, jumping eight, ten steps at a time, risking a fall with every leap. Then he hit the ground floor and ran through the unguarded front entrance into the courtyard.

“Seize him!” Temuchin shouted, from above. “I want him brought to me.”

Jason pelted toward the nearest entrance, veering off as it filled suddenly with guards. There were armed men everywhere, at every exit. He ran toward the wall. It was high and topped with gilded spearheads, but he had to get over it. Footsteps sounded loudly behind him as he sprang upward, his fingers closing over the edge of the wall. Good! He heaved himself up, to throw his legs oven, climb between the spearheads and drop to the other side to vanish into the city.

The hands locked about his ankle, the weight holding him back. He kicked and felt his boot crush a face, but he could not free himself. Then other hands caught his flailing leg and still more, pulling him back down into the courtyard.

“Bring him to me,” Temuchin’s voice sounded over the crowd of men. “Bring him to me. He is mine.”