The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 6 – Part 7

Temüjin offered Tusakha three cups of wine, then said, “Wang Khan, my sworn father, and Senggum, my sworn brother, have shown me kindness as weighty as a mountain, and there is no enmity between us at all. I beg you to return and apologise on my behalf. I shall choose further precious gifts to send to my sworn father and sworn brother, and pray they hold no grudge. Once you are home, prepare to marry my daughter. Our two houses shall feast the tribal chiefs in proper style and celebrate at length. You are my son-in-law, which is to say my son. From this day forward our two houses must be as one family, and we must never let anyone set us against each other.”

Simply to be spared was more than Tusakha had hoped for, and he agreed to everything over and over. He noticed that as Temüjin spoke his right hand pressed against his chest and he coughed without ceasing, and he thought, Could he have been wounded? Sure enough, Temüjin went on, “An arrow struck me here. I fear it will take three months to heal, otherwise I would see you home myself.” As he spoke he drew his right hand out from inside his robe at the chest, and it was covered in blood. He went on, “Do not wait for my recovery. You may marry at once, otherwise… cough, cough, the wait would be too long.”

The generals were incensed to see the Great Khan so feeble, so afraid of Wang Khan that he still meant to marry Huazheng to Tusakha. There was a commander of a thousand¹ whose son had been one of Temüjin’s bodyguards, killed the night before defending the earthen mound against Senggum’s men. Now his fury boiled over, and he drew his dao to cut Tusakha down. Temüjin ordered him seized at once and dragged before the tent. In Tusakha’s presence he was given thirty strokes of the military rod, until blood ran freely and he fainted. Temüjin barked, “Lock him up. In three days his whole family will be beheaded.” With that he toppled backwards and collapsed on the ground, as though his wound had flared beyond endurance.

At dawn the next morning Temüjin prepared two cartloads of gold and sable pelts, a thousand fat sheep and a hundred fine horses. He dispatched fifty soldiers to escort Tusakha home, along with an eloquent envoy charged with offering Wang Khan and Senggum the deepest apologies. At the send-off Temüjin could not even mount a horse. He lay on a litter, gasping for breath as he gave orders to his men and bade Tusakha farewell.

Eight days after Tusakha’s departure, Temüjin summoned his generals. “Rally the tribes. We march to strike Wang Khan.” The generals stared at one another in bewilderment. Temüjin said, “Wang Khan has many men and we have few. We cannot win in open battle, so it must be a surprise attack. I let Tusakha go, sent rich gifts and pretended to be gravely wounded by an arrow in the chest, all so that they would drop their guard.” The generals bowed in admiration. Temüjin then ordered the commander of thousands released, rewarded him handsomely, and praised his courage before the army. The commander, told they were marching against Wang Khan and Senggum, leapt with joy. He threw himself to the ground in thanks and begged to lead the van. Temüjin granted it.

The army divided into three columns. They halted by day and marched by night, following mountain paths through the valleys. Every herdsman they encountered was seized and brought along with the army, so that no word of the campaign should leak out.

Wang Khan and Senggum had been afraid that Temüjin would come for revenge and had kept strict watch day after day. But when Tusakha came back safe and sound with rich gifts, when they heard how abjectly Temüjin’s envoy spoke, and when they learned that Temüjin was gravely wounded, they were greatly relieved. They withdrew their defences and spent the days feasting in the tent with Wanyan Honglie and Jamukha. Little did they know that Temüjin’s three columns would come storming in out of the dark as though heaven were falling and the earth splitting open. The allied army of Wang Khan and Jamukha had far more men, but in the panic they had no heart to fight and at once broke and scattered. Wang Khan and Senggum fled west in disarray, and were later killed, one by the Naiman² and the other by the Western Liao.³ Tusakha was trampled to pulp by hooves in the melee. The Four Ghosts of the Yellow River fought their way clear and escorted Wanyan Honglie in a headlong night flight back to the Central Capital.

Jamukha, having lost his following, fled to the Tangnu Mountains with five bodyguards. The five seized him while he was eating mutton and delivered him bound to Temüjin’s tent.

Temüjin was furious. He roared, “Bodyguards who betray their master? What use is there in keeping men with no sense of honour?” He ordered the five cut down before Jamukha’s eyes, then turned to Jamukha and said, “Shall we two be good friends still?”

Jamukha wept. “My sworn brother has spared my life, but I can no longer show my face in the world. I ask only that you let me die without shedding blood, so that my soul does not leave my body with the blood.”

Temüjin was downcast for a long while. At last he said, “Very well. You shall not bleed. I will bury you in the place where we played as boys.”

Jamukha knelt and bowed, then turned and left the tent. Temüjin ordered him pressed to death beneath a great weight, so that no blood was shed.

With Wang Khan and Jamukha destroyed, no power in the Mongol tribes could stand against Temüjin. He called a great assembly of all the tribes at the source of the Onon River.⁴ His might now shook the desert, and every herdsman and warrior among the Mongol tribes feared him and submitted. Most of Wang Khan’s and Jamukha’s followers swore allegiance. At the assembly the people chose Temüjin as Great Khan of all the Mongols. He was given the title Genghis Khan,⁵ which means broad and mighty as the ocean.

Genghis Khan lavished rewards on the men who had served him. The Four Heroes Muqali, Bo’orchu, Boroqul and Tchila’un, together with great generals Jebe, Jelme and Subutai, were each made commanders of a thousand. Guo Jing’s merit in this campaign had been so great that he too was made a commander of a thousand, a boy still in his teens ranked alongside all those great generals of high merit.

At the victory feast, Genghis Khan, accepting toasts from his commanders, was a little tipsy. He said to Guo Jing, “Good lad, I’ll give you something more, the thing I treasure most.”

Guo Jing knelt at once to give thanks.

Genghis Khan said, “I give you Huazheng. From tomorrow you are my Golden Dao Prince Consort.”⁶

The generals roared their approval. They crowded around Guo Jing with congratulations, shouting, “Golden Dao Prince Consort, good, good, good!” Tolui was more delighted than any. He flung his arm around his sworn brother and would not let go.

Guo Jing stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak. He had always thought of Huazheng as his own younger sister, with not the least romantic feeling for her. For years he had devoted himself wholly to the practice of martial arts, his mind on nothing else. Where was there room for love’s thoughts? Hearing Genghis Khan’s words, he was struck dumb, not knowing what to do. Seeing him standing there gormless, they all roared with laughter.

After the feast Guo Jing hurried to tell his mother. Li Ping pondered for a long while. Then she told him to fetch the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan, and laid the matter before them.

The Six Eccentrics, delighted that their beloved pupil had won the Great Khan’s favour, offered Li Ping their congratulations. Li Ping said nothing. Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees and kowtowed to all six. The Six Eccentrics were aghast. “Sister-in-law,” they said, “whatever you have to say, there is no need for such ceremony.” Han Xiaoying hastened to help her up.

Li Ping said, “My boy owes his upbringing to the teaching of his six shifus. He has grown to a man, and this humble woman, even if she were ground to powder, could never repay the debt. But there is a matter that troubles me, and I must ask his six shifus to decide it.” She told them how her late husband and his sworn brother Yang Tiexin had pledged their unborn children in marriage,⁷ and concluded, “The Great Khan wants my son as his son-in-law, and that is a great honour. But if Uncle Yang left behind a daughter, and I fail to keep my word, how shall I ever face my husband and Uncle Yang in the world below?”

Zhu Cong smiled. “Sister-in-law, you need not worry. That hero Yang did indeed leave an heir. Not a daughter, however. A son.”

Li Ping was astonished and overjoyed. “How does Zhu shifu know this?”

Zhu Cong said, “A friend in the Central Plains wrote to tell us. He hoped we would bring Jing-er to Jiangnan to meet the young man surnamed Yang, so that the two of them might try their skill together.”

The truth was that the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan had never told Li Ping or Guo Jing how the wager with Qiu Chuji had come about. When Guo Jing had asked who the young Daoist Yin Zhiping was, they had been vague and evasive. The six of them knew how kind-hearted Guo Jing was by nature. If he learned who Yang Kang was, he would surely hold back in the contest, fail to win where he ought to win and lose where he ought not to lose, and ruin everything.

Li Ping, hearing Zhu Cong’s words, was filled with joy. She asked after Yang Tiexin and his wife, whether they yet lived, and what the boy was like. But the Six Eccentrics could answer none of those questions. Li Ping and the Six agreed on a plan: the Six would take Guo Jing to Jiangnan to meet Yang Tiexin’s son, swear brotherhood with him, and find a way to track down Duan Tiande and take revenge, and when they came back he would marry Huazheng. She saw that the Six and her son would soon be going home, and she had been away so long and longed so much for home that she wished with all her heart to go back with them. But she would have to be there when her son married, and to go a thousand li south only to come north again would be too much trouble. She turned it over again and again, and in the end could only tell them that she would stay in Mongolia and wait for her son to come back and marry.

Guo Jing went to ask Genghis Khan’s leave. Genghis Khan said, “Very well. Make your journey south, and bring me the head of the Jin Empire’s Sixth Prince, Wanyan Honglie. My sworn brother Jamukha fell out with me and threw away his life for no other reason than that man. How many warriors will you take for this great undertaking?”

Having united the Mongol tribes, Genghis Khan saw that his only remaining rival of any consequence was the Jin Empire. He knew a clash with them was inevitable. He had met Wanyan Honglie several times and judged him shrewd and able, a serious threat. Best to remove him early. As for his own rupture with Jamukha, the real cause lay in his own departure from the old ways, the redistribution of property to warriors as private holdings, and his enticement of Jamukha’s followers to swear allegiance to him. But his sworn brotherhood with Jamukha was well known to all. It suited him now to lay every fault at the door of the Jin Empire and Wanyan Honglie.

Guo Jing had heard his mother’s stories since childhood and always hated the Jin Empire. And now he had nearly lost his life in the fierce fight with the Four Ghosts of the Yellow River, Wanyan Honglie’s men. Hearing Genghis Khan’s words, he thought, So long as my six shifus help me, this great deed is sure to succeed. Taking a lot of warriors who know no martial arts would only get in the way. He said, “I have my six shifus going with me. I need no other warriors.”

Genghis Khan said, “Good. Our strength is not yet a match for the Jin Empire. You must on no account let anything show.” Guo Jing nodded. Genghis Khan bestowed ten jin⁸ of gold for travelling expenses, and gave a collection of the gold vessels and jewels seized from Wang Khan’s treasury to the Six Eccentrics of Jiangnan. When Tolui, Jebe and the rest learned that Guo Jing had been sent south on a mission, each sent him parting gifts. Tolui said, “Anda,⁹ the southerners are men whose words cannot be trusted. Take care not to be taken in.” Guo Jing nodded.

On the morning of the third day, Guo Jing went with his six shifus to kowtow at Zhang Asheng’s grave. He parted from his mother in tears and set out southward. Li Ping watched her son’s tall figure on the little red horse dwindle across the desert, and remembering how she had given birth to him in the midst of a rabble of fleeing troops, she felt both glad and sad at heart.

Guo Jing had ridden more than ten li when he saw two white eagles wheeling in the sky. Tolui and Huazheng came galloping up, riding side by side, to see him on his way. Tolui gave him another gift, a precious sable cloak, jet black all over without a single stray hair, which had also been taken from Wang Khan’s treasury. Huazheng, knowing her father had promised her to him for life, flushed and gazed at him without a word. Tolui laughed, “Little sister, say something to him! I won’t listen.” With that he spurred his horse away.

Huazheng turned her head aside, unable to think of anything to say. After a long silence she managed, “Come back soon.”

Guo Jing nodded. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

Huazheng shook her head.

“Then I must go.”

Huazheng bowed her head and said nothing. Guo Jing leaned down from his saddle and gave her a gentle embrace, then rode over to Tolui and embraced him too. He spurred his horse after his six shifus, already far ahead.

Huazheng saw how stiff he was, without a trace of tender feeling. They were newly betrothed and he was going far away, yet he treated her just as he always had, and she was deeply unhappy. She raised her riding whip and lashed her dapple-grey horse savagely, until its body was striped with weals of blood.

Footnotes

1. 千夫长 — qiānfūzhǎng. Literally chief of a thousand men. Commander of a Mongol unit of one thousand, the mingghan. ↩

2. 乃蛮 — Nǎimán. A powerful steppe tribe to the west of the Keraites. ↩

3. 西辽 — Xī Liáo. The Qara Khitai, or Western Liao (1124—1218), a Khitan empire in Central Asia. ↩

4. 斡难河 — Wònán Hé. The Onon, a river of the Mongolian steppe. See Wikipedia. ↩

5. 成吉思汗 — Chéngjísī Hán. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 金刀驸马 — Jīndāo Fùmǎ. Literally golden dao prince consort. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 指腹为婚 — zhǐfùwéihūn. Literally betrothal by pointing at the womb. A marriage pledged between children not yet born. ↩

8. 斤 — jīn. A unit of weight, about 590 grams in the Song dynasty. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 安答 — āndá. The Mongol word for a sworn brother, bound by oath before Heaven. ↩