Lords of the Bow. Conn Iggulden
came to canals, the line would bulge as men raced each other over the drop, laughing and calling to anyone who fell into the dark water and had to ride hard to catch up.
The city of Yinchuan had been a smear on the horizon for hours before Genghis gave the order to halt. Horns sounded up and down the line and the host came to a stop, with echoing orders passing down to alert men on the wings. This was hostile country and they would not be taken by surprise.
The city loomed in the distance. Even miles away, it seemed a massive construction, intimidating in its sheer size. Genghis squinted into the haze of the afternoon sun. The stone the builders had used was a dark grey and he could see columns that could have been towers inside the walls. He could not guess their purpose and strove not to show his awe in front of the men.
He looked around him, seeing that his people could not be ambushed on such a flat piece of ground. The crops could have hidden crawling soldiers, but his scouts would sight them long before they were close. It was as safe as anywhere could be to set up camp and he made the decision, dismounting as he gave his orders.
Behind him, the tribes scurried in the routines they knew. Gers were lashed together and raised by individual families long used to the work. A village, a town, a city of their own sprang out of the carts and herds of bleating animals. It was not long before Genghis’ own cart came up and the smell of frying mutton filled the air.
Arslan walked along the line with his son Jelme. Under their eyes, the warriors of all the tribes stood tall and kept their chatter to a minimum. Genghis approved and he was ready with a smile as they reached him.
‘I have never seen such a flat land,’ Arslan said. ‘There is nowhere to hold, nowhere to retreat to if we are overwhelmed. We are too exposed here.’
His son Jelme raised his eyes at the words, but did not speak. Arslan was twice the age of the other generals and he led cautiously and with intelligence. He would never be a firebrand amongst the tribes, though his skill was respected, and his temper feared.
‘We will not be turned, Arslan. Not from here,’ Genghis replied, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘We will make them come out from that city, or if they will not, perhaps I will just build a ramp of earth to the top of their walls and ride in. That would be a thing to see, would it not?’
Arslan’s smile was tight. He had been one of those who had ridden closer to Yinchuan, close enough for them to waste arrows on him.
‘It is like a mountain, lord. You will see when you ride close to the walls. Each corner has a tower and the walls are set with slits where archers poke their faces through to watch you pass. It would be hard to hit them, while they have an easy shot against us.’
Genghis lost some of his good humour.
‘I will see it first before I decide. If it will not fall to us, I will starve them out.’
Jelme nodded at the idea. He had ridden with his father close enough to feel the shadow of the city on his back. For a man used to the open steppes, he found himself irritated at the thought of such an ant hill of men. The very idea offended him.
‘The canals pass into the city, lord,’ Jelme said, ‘through tunnels barred with iron. I am told they wash away the dung of so many people and animals. There may be a weakness there.’
Genghis brightened. He had ridden all day and he was weary. There would be time to plan the assault tomorrow when he had eaten and rested.
‘We will find a way,’ he promised.
With no sign of opposition, the younger warriors under Genghis spent their days riding as close as they dared to the city, testing their courage. The bravest of them galloped under the shadow of the walls as arrows whipped overhead. Their whooping cries echoed over the fields in challenge, yet only one Xi Xia archer managed a clean strike in three days. Even then, the tribesman recovered his seat and rode clear, pulling the arrow out of his armour and throwing it contemptuously to the ground.
Genghis too rode close, with his generals and officers. What he saw brought him no inspiration. Even the canals into the city were protected by iron bars as thick as a man’s forearm, set deep into stone. He thought they might still batter their way in, though the thought of crawling down dank tunnels was unpleasant to a man of the plains.
As night fell, his brothers and generals gathered in the great ger to eat and discuss the problem. Genghis’ mood had grown dark once more, but Arslan had known him from the beginning of his rise and did not fear to speak bluntly.
‘With the sort of wooden shield we used against the fort, we could protect men long enough to hammer through the canal openings,’ Arslan said, chewing. ‘Though I do not like the look of those constructions on the walls. I would not have believed a bow could be so large. If they’re real, they must fire arrows as long as a man. Who knows how much damage they can do?’
‘We cannot stay out here for ever, while they send messages to their allies,’ Kachiun murmured, ‘and we cannot pass by and leave their army free to strike at our back. We must enter the city, or return to the desert and give up everything we have won.’
Genghis glanced at his younger brother, his expression sour.
‘That will not happen,’ he said with more confidence than he felt. ‘We have their crops. How long can a city last before the people are eating each other? Time is on our side.’
‘We are not hurting them yet, I think,’ Kachiun replied. ‘They have the canals to bring water and, for all we know, the city is stuffed with grain and salted meat.’ He saw Genghis frown at the image, but continued. ‘We could be here for years, waiting, and who knows how many armies are marching to support them? By the time they are starving, we could be facing the Chin themselves and be caught between them.’
‘Then give me an answer!’ Genghis snapped. ‘The Uighur scholars tell me that every city in Chin lands is like this one, or even larger, if you can imagine it. If they have been built by men, they can be destroyed by men, I am certain of it. Tell me how.’
‘We could poison the water in the canals,’ Khasar said, reaching for another piece of meat with his knife. He speared it in sudden silence and looked round at the others.
‘What? This is not our land.’
‘That is an evil thing to say,’ Kachiun chided his brother, speaking for all of them. ‘What would we drink ourselves, then?’
Khasar shrugged. ‘We would drink clean water from further up.’
Genghis listened, considering.
‘We need to sting them into coming out,’ he said. ‘I will not see clean water poisoned, but we can break the canals and let the city go thirsty. Let them see the work of generations being destroyed and perhaps they will meet us on the plain.’
‘I will see it done,’ Jelme said.
Genghis nodded to him. ‘And you, Khasar. You will send a hundred men to break through the bars where the canals enter the city.’
‘Protecting them will mean more carts taken apart. The families will not like that at all,’ Khasar said.
Genghis snorted.
‘I will build more when we are in that cursed city. They will thank us then.’
All the men in the ger heard galloping hoofbeats coming closer. Genghis paused with a piece of greasy mutton in his fingers. He looked up as a clatter sounded on the steps outside and the door to the ger opened.
‘They are coming out, lord.’
‘In the darkness?’ Genghis said incredulously.
‘There