“Behold! Kharakhorin!” Zhenjin announced with a sweeping gesture.

  To the eyes of most Vassal Heirs, the capital seemed modest—perhaps even small—compared to the sprawling splendor of DaDu. Yet, this was the cradle of the Empire; all four Great Khans were born here. It stood as a grim fortress perched upon a wind-swept plateau, a stone sentinel at the edge of the endless steppes where the tundra began its crawl north. Inside the walls, Kharakhorin was dimly lit and primal. The roads were rutted, thick with the sharp scent of horse dung and woodsmoke. The heirs, raised in the refined air of Xanadu, had long ago developed a preference for delicate rice wine over the sour, fermented airag (kumis) favored by the Kharaks.

  Unlike the Middle Kingdom, Kharakhorin lacked a nightlife. There were no theaters, no silk-draped tea houses. There were only brooding temples, sprawling stables, and the centerpiece: a fortress-turned-castle of rugged stone, ringed by a primitive moat they called the Telparthin.

  By the time the heirs reached the gates, the Great Khans had already vanished. Ariq—King of all Kharaks—and his brothers M?ngke, Hulagu, and Khublai had departed for the deep tundra to begin their Khuriltai. There, they would hunt wild boar and the white ram, fasting and praying in the silence of the wilderness for fourteen days.

  Though the Khan was absent from the Telparthin, Ariq Khan had convened his court to welcome the family returning to their ancestral house. Beside Empress Chabi, a new figure of power had arrived: Doquz Khatun, the wife of Hulagu, surrounded by a shimmering entourage.

  "What happens now, my Prince?" Huaizong whispered, eyes darting toward the empty seat of power. "Is it customary for deputies to sit upon the Thantin throne in the absence of the Khan? Kaedo is merely a deputy, I presume."

  "I don’t know," Zhenjin replied grimly. "My Uncle is a different kind of Khan."

  "Are you not ordained by the Universe to rule the Empire?" Mahintha asked softly. "Aren't the Khans given the Heavenly Mandate?"

  "No," Zhenjin said, his gaze locking onto Huaizong’s. "We took it for ourselves. We make our own rules. But great civilizations require a language that transcends ordinary existence. To create a surplus, one needs a Heavenly Mandate. I can carry away as many treasures as a Khan likes, but conquest destroys real wealth. Real wealth means you can produce—to feed and protect people—and not just steal. Raiders face famine all the time; farmers don’t. But farmers are vulnerable."

  "And societies need morality," Mahintha added.

  From across the room, Chabi watched her son. Her face was a mask of cold displeasure. Zhenjin leaned toward his companions. "My mother isn't happy. I can see it."

  They were ushered into the anteroom. Through another door in the Thantin Hall, Doquz Khatun entered, her robes heavily brocaded and stiff with gold. In stark contrast, the Buddhist Xinese travelers were wearing simple, flowing white. As they whispered among themselves, they noticed the hall was flooded with armed monks—men who openly displayed their weapons. At this, the heirs seemed genuinely alarmed.

  "My lord, everyone is armed to the teeth," Huaizong hissed.

  "Relax," Zhenjin muttered. "No blood can be spilt until after the Khuriltai."

  "We should leave immediately after the Khuriltai, then," Huaizong suggested.

  "I will wait for my father," Zhenjin said, then smirked. "What is a little blood to you?

  "Urduja is not ready for battle," Huaizong countered.

  "Of course. Neither am I," Zhenjin answered. "But she looks great armed, right?" Master Po, Huaizong, and Mahintha could only nod in silent agreement.

  Finally, they entered the sanctum: the war room of Genghis Khan. The Great Khan had never claimed a throne, for he was not a royal. But the Telparthin had been remodeled. To Chabi’s eyes, the war room looked gaudy—a crude attempt at majesty.

  "So this is the Telparthin! The war room of the Great Genghis Khan," Mahintha informed Cheongsun and Urduja, his voice filled with awe. "I have wanted to see this for a long time."

  "Yes," Chabi whispered to Zhenjin and Huaizong, her voice tinged with bitterness. "This was the war room of the Great Genghis, but it has obviously been remodeled to look like a throne room. This is not the Telparthin I know."

  Kaedo sat upon an imposing chair on a raised dais, flanked by his half-nude male advisers. Shaven-headed temple monks lined the chamber, and everyone was armed.

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  "I know summer is about to set in, but those men are scantily clad. And it is still rather cold," Chabi remarked dryly.

  "Shh, Mother," Zhenjin urged under his breath.

  "How was the ride from the East, Nephew?" Kaedo called out. He rose from the throne and gripped the arm of Zhenjin in the ancient Steppe tradition. Zhenjin returned the firm but assuring grip, a public display of brotherly warmth.

  "Very pleasant. The weather was perfect."

  "Welcome, Chabi Khatun and Khazan Zhenjin!" Kaedo announced. "Welcome, Queen Dusshela and Lady Sumita."

  "Thank you, Kaedo. It’s good to be home," Chabi said.

  Queen Dusshela acknowledged the welcome, and Sumita offered a graceful bow. As Doquz Khatun entered from a different door, Kaedo acknowledged her.

  "Welcome, Doquz Khatun." Zhenjin bowed, and the whole entourage followed suit.

  "Kharakhorin is ancient and sacred," Doquz replied, bowing in return.

  "My home is your home, Khatun Doquz," Kaedo said. He turned his attention back to Zhenjin. "And Chabi Khatun, may I say that you have a fine son. A renowned fighter."

  "Technically skilled, talented..." Huaizong added, buttering him up.

  "A ladies' man," Zhenjin added with a humorous, self-flattering grin.

  "I only hope he is responsible enough to make a good Emperor of Xina," Chabi remarked pointedly.

  "Handsome... ladies' man," Zhenjin insisted. Beside him, Huaizong, Mahintha, and Po looked distractedly in different directions, pointedly ignoring him.

  "Vain and conceited," Chabi and Urduja chorused. Chabi looked endearingly at Urduja, who basked in the Empress's approval. Queen Dusshela beamed as well. The court laughed in good humor.

  "Doquz Khatun," Kaedo asked. "Did you travel well?"

  "Any place is better than a war zone," Doquz replied.

  The mention of war acted like a spark. The Telparthin court broke out into a noisy debate. "War is glorious! War, war, war!" "Peace, peace, peace!"

  "Quiet!" Kaedo shouted, and the monks simmered down instantly. Zhenjin quickly exchanged glances with Master Po, Huaizong, and Mahintha, who were all startled by the bloodthirsty calls for war.

  Doquz bowed to all, and then the two Empresses bowed ceremoniously to one another. Then both acknowledge Queen Dusshela and Lady Sumita and all four royals settle onto a cushioned platform.

  "Bring your friends forward, Khazan Zhenjin," Kaedo commanded. "The wonderful Vassal Heirs. The promised ones. If I had all the grain to be had, I would want vassal heirs too. But I can't feed them."

  Zhenjin stepped into the center of the court. "Uncle, I give you thirty barrels of plum wine from the eastern appanage. I bring trays of century eggs, pickled fish, and cheese from goats and cows. Silk! Bolts of silk. Lard, butter, jerkies, dried fruits, paraffin... and of course, grain and cereals. Pearls and salt from Talawesi, and rope from Tawalesi hemp."

  "The Emperor is most grateful." "I do all to please the king." "The Emperor is pleased," Kaedo replied.

  "I bring reams of paper and barrels of ink to the King of Kharakhorin," Zhenjin continued.

  "The Emperor sends a thousand thanks to his brother, the steward of the eastern appanage. Himself, he is Khan."

  "For the King of the Steppes," Zhenjin said, with great emphasis on the final words, "I bring ingots of gold, bowls of silver, precious stones... and black powder."

  The Telparthin court erupted in cheers at the mention of the explosive. "War! War! War!" the monks chanted.

  "Quiet!" Kaedo shouted. "The Emperor's gratitude is boundless."

  "For my King." "From the Emperor."

  An uneasy silence followed. Kaedo cleared his throat. "Now, open those barrels of plum wine. Zhenjin is here; let us celebrate! And now, may I present the Princess Khatun Ulaan."

  Ulaan entered alone—tall and strong. She bowed before Chabi and Doquz. "My daughter, you look good," Chabi said warmly.

  "Thank you, Empress Chabi, Empress Doquz and Queen Dusshela. Welcome, Khazan Zhenjin and friends! What a pleasure to receive you."

  "It is our honor to be welcomed by Khatun Ulaan," Zhenjin replied.

  Ulaan addressed the room. "I offer a toast." Wine was poured into silver cups. "The great Khans—Khubilai, M?ngke, Hulagu, and Ariq—are with the eternal sky. They have started their meditations and fasting. No one can disturb them now. We wait for the return of the Great Khans. Praise Khan!"

  "Praise Khan!" the crowd responded. "The Barren Hills touch the sky!" All rose to toast.

  "And I offer another toast to welcome our guests to this year's Khuriltai," Ulaan continued.

  "Welcome!" the crowd shouted.

  "Now," Zhenjin announced grandly to the Telparthin, "may I present the vassal heirs of the Eastern Khannate, Xina. Tonight, I appoint them as my Kheshig."

  The crowd murmured in anticipation. Someone grumbled, "Aren't they all foreigners? You'd think he'd appoint one from the ancestral capital..."

  "My handsome brothers," Zhenjin continued, "themselves Princes: Huaizong of the great Song Nation, and Mahintha, rightful ruler of Lan, and Rajiv, rightful ruler of the Chola."

  Each heir was brought before Kaedo. The mood turned jovial. When Dusshela and Sumita were introduced, the entire court rose to bow in respect to the Queen.

  "And I have a new brother and sister: Cheongsun of Goryeo and Urduja of Tawalesi."

  The two teenagers were brought forth to pay homage to the Thantin throne. Whispers followed them. "Is she a Saliendran Princess? A Tarhata?" "No, she is from Tawalesi." "The poor relations, right? Sea gypsies." "Shh. Be polite."

  "Also with me are my stepbrothers, second and third in line to the dragon throne: Dorje and Thermat!" Zhenjin boasted. The court applauded the travelers and then it was the turn of the Lady Doquz to be presented.

  Doquz comes from an impressive line of Khans. A Kerait Princess and a follower of Prester John. She rescued many scholars both Messiahnists and Followers of the Desert Prophets from Hulagu’s slaughter at Baghdad.

  Amidst the cheering, Doquz singled out Urduja, "Princess of Tawalesi, I'm told you ride the sea. How is that possible?"

  "On boards we produce, full of air," Urduja answered.

  "How is it even possible?"

  "Only if you see it with your eyes can it be fully explained," Urduja said.

  "I lived by the sea all my life," Doquz mused. "All children are told of magical carpets that fly around the world. I'd like to see these magical boards."

  "Made from reeds, Khatun Doquz. There is no magic," Urduja replied.

  Doquz raised an eyebrow. "No magic?"