The Tiger-Headed Horseman (24 page)

BOOK: The Tiger-Headed Horseman
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Odval grew worried but knew better than to question her lover. As his rage had grown, so had the list of those who had lost their lives for trivial reasons. She remained silent, doing her very best to provide solace. After five days, just as Odval was about to give up on Tengis, he fell into a deep and heavy
slumber. She ordered his favourite foods to be prepared for the moment he awoke.

‘I can smell sausages,’ said Tengis. He sat up in his bed and yawned.

He had slept for almost forty hours all the while lovingly guarded by his faithful Odval. As he started to eat heartily, he called upon Oldortar, Mr Enkh and Tchoo. Together with the omnipresent Odval, they gathered in his chamber as he wiped the last of the sausage grease from his chin. Ushering them to draw chairs around the bed where he lay he pushed away his tray and began to speak.

‘My dear friends, I have not been myself. Not for a very long time. I had thought my purpose here was to listen to and serve the people. I figured that, if I set up a good team of smart people, we could implement change that would make a difference. We had thought that the Khadist regime was corrupt and wicked. We were only part right: the Khadist regime that has governed us for these past centuries was merely broken. The principles of Khadism, if you break them into their base constituent parts, are not dissimilar to those of New Chinggism. What they do both most certainly have in common and what I had failed to appreciate – and I put my hands up as the one person that should have noticed – is that they are a far more
intellectual
embodiment of what Chinggis Khaan had originally set out to achieve.

‘Where he failed to fulfil his personal potential, I have an opportunity to succeed. Where he showed his frailty by always seeking consensus, I can show strength by acting single-mindedly. Where he survived less than a decade as emperor, I can last for all eternity. I have the ability to become emperor of Ongolium for all time. This will become known as the Age of Tengis and no more shall we think of ourselves as followers of Chinggis. Now that I have had time to think, we need to
reconsider who it is we follow. From this moment on you will follow me and I will follow Khad.’

His advisors looked at him in awe. It was the type of awe people showed when they had just intimately witnessed something especially malevolent.

‘That's all very interesting,’ asked Tchoo, ‘but what about democracy? I thought we had agreed you would become the first President Of Ongolium People? I thought we four would become your government?’

‘My dear friend,’ said Tengis – Odval noticed that the tone of Tengis's voice sounded a little too familiar for her comfort – ‘you will always be important to me; it's just that I will be infinitely
more
important to you! From this moment on it is all about me. Do you agree?’ Tengis looked inside the eyes of each council member.

‘So we will still have a say in how the country is run?’ asked Mr Enkh.

Odval wished her father had said nothing. She feared that Tengis could turn at any moment. Instead, he rose out of bed and stood naked before them. He clapped a hand on Odval's father's shoulder.

‘No, not really,’ said Tengis. ‘As I said: it is all about me. You will retain your positions so long as you are happy to do my bidding and never question my reason.’ The Council looked uneasy but knew they had little option but to concur. ‘Oh, and about the shimmering substance . . .’ Each member instantly perked up. Wealth always carried more weight than words as far as they were concerned. ‘I have lots of it. Lots and lots. So long as you please me you will each become richer than your wildest imagination.’ The Council relaxed; some of them even began to smile. ‘That's the spirit,’ Tenghis concluded.

‘What would you have us do?’ asked Oldortar. Tengis smiled a broad tight-lipped smile that creased up into his cheeks.

‘My good man,’ replied Tengis, ‘what a loyal military general you are. I want you to summon the Leggie and ready them to march out of Baatarulaan within two days. I want you to swell the size of your force. Find one extra man, woman or child for each existing member. Release every prisoner you feel would loyally serve us and not slit our throat at the first opportunity or endanger our children in any way. Equip them all with the contents of our armoury and, once that is depleted, with anything sharp, bludgeoning or nasty they can get their hands on. Ensure that the archery legion is given particular attention; I want their numbers to swell four-fold. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Oldortar. He stood to attention, saluted in the way he imagined somebody would salute if he had ever seen anyone salute, clicked his heels and marched towards the door. ‘Sir?’

‘Yes, General Oldortar,’ said Tengis. Oldortar swelled with pride, it was far nicer to be addressed as General than it had been to be called Clown.

‘Sir,’ said Oldortar, ‘I have been thinking. So as to make sure we recognise everyone that's with us, should we perhaps wear a uniform?’

‘Splendid idea!’ replied Tengis. ‘I like you all to have ideas so long as the good ones are mine. General, dress as you see appropriate. Mr Enkh here will provide you with the necessary funds and please take a little extra for yourself; after all, you're worth it.’ Oldortar left the room feeling the happiest he had ever known. He was going to enjoy working for Tengis.

‘Mr Tengis, sir,’ said Tchoo, ‘with the new direction we are taking with our political agenda, what would you like me to do? I am happy to spread the Gospel according to Tengis? I think your Ten Recommendations still stand strong as a handbook for the average person to live their lives by day by day.’

‘Tchoo,’ said Tengis, ‘you have proven yourself a highly skilled political tactician. I would like you to ensure my name and word are revered throughout Ongolium. I would also like you to devise a strategy for the Leggie. With so many new recruits we need to think up new ways to prevent our authority ever being questioned. We need them to be too scared to question our actions. Perhaps once we have proven this in military circles we could consider rolling it out across the general population.’

‘Like the House of Fun?’ asked Tchoo.

‘No, absolutely not!’ answered Tengis. ‘That was merely a childish interpretation of Khad's beliefs. By dressing up dreadful things with fluffy verbiage you remove part of the terror. In so doing you render the fear less effective. Be overt if you are going to strike fear into people's hearts. That's why I renamed the House of Fun as the House of Hurt. It is far more in line with the way Khad would really have wanted it.’ A spark of warmth glowed deep within Tengis's head, as if Khad himself were affirming his approval.

‘Anyway, I task you with developing the means with which to force the people to accept that what I, and we, are doing is for their good and for the good of their, and our, country. I don't want people freely addicted to nasty substances; I want people to pay heavily for the privilege. We need to bolster our revenues somehow and taxing Khem and the like seems like a perfectly reasonable place to start. Make a note to increase the pushing of drugs with respect to younger people and get them hooked sooner. I want to help the people want to help themselves. To do this they have to put all of their faith in me. See to it that this happens.’ Tchoo departed leaving Odval and her father with Tengis.

‘Tengis, my young friend,’ said Mr Enkh, ‘I always believed you would one day be a great man. Look at you now; you make
me very proud. If you ever wanted to be married, you need not ask my permission!’

‘Thank you,’ said Tengis. ‘If I ever wanted to be married, I would do so with my own permission and no one else's. Please never let me hear you being so presumptuous again. If I am honest, I am not sure that I actually need you, Mr Enkh. I have enough wealth, after all. What else is it that you can offer me?’ Odval looked terrified but not nearly so much as her father. Tengis lay down on the bed again and picked at his leftover breakfast.

‘I know things,’ said Mr Enkh desperately ‘I . . . I . . . I have friends, people in important places. People of influence. I can help you secure your rightful position as our emperor. There may be wheels I can pay and people I can oil for you . . . Please?’

‘I should very much like to see that,’ said Tengis absently. ‘In the meantime, please go away; I am bored.’

Mr Enkh gathered himself and, bowing, walked backwards out of the room.

Once her father had departed, Odval walked over to Tengis and slapped his face.

‘Don't you dare speak to my father like that ever again,’ said Odval, ‘you hear me? I don't care who you think you are this time. He is my father.’ She made to strike him again but this time Tengis caught her wrist and twisted her hand back.

‘I do so love it when you are angry!’ said Tengis.

‘Then it looks like we shall get along well then,’ seethed Odval through clenched teeth. Tengis released her. ‘You haven't told me or anyone why you are raising such a force? You always said that Lily was but one young girl. I want her killed as much as you do, but this?’

‘Don't be foolish!’ replied Tengis. ‘This Lily has friends. My spies inform me that she has a growing number of strong allies in Baatarulaan and goodness knows how many others outside the city.’

‘Outside Baatarulaan?’ inquired Odval. ‘There is nothing outside the city; is there?’

‘You'd be surprised,’ said Tengis. He smirked secretly to himself. ‘There are as many people outside the city limits as there are within, perhaps even more. They are mostly ill-educated herder communities, true, but news of Lily has spread fast. Her allies in Baatarulaan have sent couriers to all corners of Ongolium to implore the herders to come together and make a stand against the evil that has kept them living like peasants and taxed them to the hilt.’

‘Who would that be?’ asked Odval earnestly.

Tengis raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh . . .! Never mind that! I have to prevent any risk to my plan.’

‘Couldn't you just send an assassin to execute her?’ asked Odval.

‘It's not quite as simple as that,’ replied Tengis. ‘It is difficult to take a wolf cub without drawing in the whole pack. Anyway, I thought a show of strength such as this might be just the thing to lift people's spirits. Since everyone became a criminal or Khem addict, things have become so interminably boring in this city; nobody has any fight left in them. We'll soon change all of that.’

Tengis's Council knew better than to disappoint him. The following day Tchoo made a lengthy slide presentation to the Counsel. His colourfully presented slides showed various ways in which Tengis could swiftly move to assert his radical new vision. Tchoo was incredibly grateful he had paid close attention in school during his business studies class. He suggested that Tengis retain much of the marketing and brand positioning that had lifted him this far but proposed some minor changes that would help him move from being perceived as a man of inclusivity towards being seen as a being of dread. His final slide received a standing ovation, even from Tengis. The new
party slogan would now read: ‘Believe in ideas– Tengis's ideas. What counts is what works; and whatever Tengis says will work. The objectives are radical; the means are cruel and unusual. Change is no longer necessary.’ Tengis was content that his Council, who no longer actually provided any counsel, was obeying his commands. Mr Enkh ran around his master like a cocker spaniel, desperately trying to please him. Odval watched on ashamed that both her lover and her father could act in this way.

Within two days Oldortar had built and armed troops sufficiently terrible to sate Tengis's needs. As they lined up in the city centre square, Tengis inspected them. He marvelled at how utterly innocent some of them looked. He knew that a few days’ marching and a few hours of bloody conflict would soon change all of that.

‘Nice uniforms, General Oldortar,’ said Tengis. The General blushed. He had long wanted his men to dress head to toe in black. They wore black suits with matching shiny black patent boots, black caps with shiny black brims and each soldier wore a red cotton armband carrying the insignia of a man with a tiger's head riding a noble horse. Tengis noted that that the insignia had evolved slightly too – the man now looked more noble than the horse and was whipping it with what looked like a snake. He grinned, much to the pleasure of his general.

‘Splendid, splendid!’ Tengis cried enthusiastically.

‘Where are we going?’ asked General Oldortar.

‘Courtesy of Mr Enkh,’ said Tengis – Mr Enkh genuflected – ‘I am reliably informed that the traitor we seek and her rebellious pack have camped on the Steppe. If a donkey can recognise the tracks of a horse, then a horse can surely recognise the clumsy footprints of a donkey. From what I hear, they are hastily endeavouring to school themselves in the art of warfare. Tell me, Oldortar, what do my men know of the art of warfare?’

‘Um,’ said Oldortar, ‘they know a nice picture of a poppy field when they see one, if that's what you mean?’

‘Not exactly,’ replied Tengis, ‘but it hardly matters. There is no way the rebels will be any match for my men; we outnumber them embarrassingly. I will take point, just make sure your men, and women, keep up.’

With that Tengis kissed Odval, mounted his almost proud-looking horse and took his position at the head of his 5,000-strong column of soldiers. At General Oldortar's command, they began to march forwards. Immediately Oldortar regretted not teaching his wards their left from their right but at least they were moving in the right direction.

The march was uneventful. Tengis found no beauty on the Steppe. It lacked the cultural virtues he had long loved in Baatarulaan. There was no sound of torment as somebody somewhere lost their dearest mortal possessions. So far as Tengis was concerned, the Steppe was nothing more than an arid barren barrier that protected his city from Outsiders. He had hated it the first time he visited it and he hated it even more now. Those under his command may have felt otherwise but were far too afraid of him to show it. Whatever their leader said was good enough for them. In any case, most of the soldiers were too busy trying to work out how they could move the same leg at the same time as the person in front of them to be concerned about their surroundings. On their way across the deserted land there had been much stumbling and falling over.

BOOK: The Tiger-Headed Horseman
11.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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