The Tiger-Headed Horseman (8 page)

‘What do you know?’ ranted Tengis. ‘You have always been spying on me, trying to steal my ideas, my thoughts. You're jealous of me. You might have all the wealth and riches that make you popular in this hellish place but secretly you have only ever been my friend so that you could rob me of my philosophy and ideology. Well, you can't! I'm glad I've had a chance to finally see you for who you truly are. I am Chinggis Khaan and
you
are my enemy.’

A chair scraped gently behind them. Turning, Tengis and Odval saw Bankher craning forward to look at the papers, a wide smirk upon his face.

‘Very interesting,’ said Bankher calmly. ‘Voices in your head? And you think you're Chinggis, do you? That
is
interesting.’

‘I am!’ yelled Tengis, squaring up to Bankher across the desk. ‘I am and you will come to regret your doubt. Both of you.’ He stood rooted to the spot, staring madly at them both. He was ready to attack either or both of them.

‘Good,’ replied Bankher. He casually flipped a coin and put it in his pocket. ‘Very good. Let's see what the good people of Baatarulaan think about your claims. I'm sure the Fun Brigade would love to hear about this heresy, too. I think you'd best contact the Post Office. You're going to need to get your mail redirected to the House of Fun. Have a nice day now, freak.’

‘You wouldn't?’ said Odval.

It was too late. Bankher had speedily crossed the floor and flown through the classroom doorway. Odval stared pityingly into her friend's eyes. Tengis was seething with rage and ready to fight.

8

By the time Tengis had run home from school his mother already knew. He knew that she knew because she was standing outside the front door looking very cross. He had never been in trouble before and had certainly never had his mother give him a hard time. Unbeknown to Tengis the school, informed by Bankher, had called to complain that her son had been inciting civil unrest. Unrest the school and Baatarulaan could cope with but not if it was civil.

Mrs Khaan had also been contacted by Clown Oldortar, nominal leader of the Fun Brigade. Clown Oldortar was a large round man who, had things turned out differently, would have been naturally kind but whose job dictated that he be anything but and so he wasn't. He was concerned that her son had been being far too serious and not paying enough attention to humour and Khadism. He made it clear to her that they were very keen to meet such a morose fellow in order to teach him how to have more exuberance and embrace life more wholeheartedly.

Odval had contacted Tengis's mother, too, in order to explain her concerns, tell her what it was her son had done and how he had behaved, particularly towards her. Mrs Khaan was a very worried and angry woman. None of this concerned Tengis; he was still furious about what he saw as Odval's betrayal.

‘Where have you been?’ asked Mrs Khaan.

‘I have been at school obviously,’ replied Tengis. ‘Where else would I normally be on a weekday morning?’

‘Less of your cheek, young man,’ said Mrs Khaan. ‘Why aren't you there now in that case and what is this I have been hearing about you? I brought you up better than to go about inciting hatred. Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in? Principal Ahgresor wants to expel you. Clown Oldortar wants to introduce you to his Clown School. You know that is only one step away from the House of Fun, don't you? As for Odval, how dare you speak like that to such a charming young lady. Where on earth are your manners?’

‘Mother,’ said Tengis. He drew himself together. It was about time she heard how he really felt about life and what he thought about her. ‘Do you honestly think I give a flying fig what school says? Do you think they have actually taught me anything during my entire time there? I have had to educate myself entirely on my own. They don't have any books, let alone teachers, that can help me. They focus on passing exams and fitting into society, a society I think is rotten. I am far wiser than they are!’ Tengis scarcely paused for breath before continuing his rant.

‘Clown Oldortar is nothing more than a thug with a badge and a big stick. Those Khadists don't have an original thought between them. They run Baatarulaan as they believe Khad would have wanted. Who could possibly have wanted the filth and debauchery they peddle? They take our money in taxes and spend it on bureaucrats and drug development. Have you any idea how addictive the new Khem is? Almost 60 per cent of the city's population is hooked on that stuff. It's just a way of us giving them even more money. They think they are so smart. I have ideas for the city. I could make this city a great place once more. I am far more intellectual than any Khadist. As for Odval, she betrayed me. She is rich and looks down on me. She thinks I am just an ordinary man but I tell you I am not an ordinary man, I am Chinggis Khaan.’

‘How can you say such things?’ implored Mrs Khaan. ‘Wise men talk about ideas, intellectuals about facts; the ordinary man talks about what he eats. You will soon starve if you carry on with this nonsense. What has got into you? Have I raised you badly? Is it because your father left?’

‘Leave him out of this!’ yelled Tengis. ‘He is a good man. What's more he will come back, I tell you!’

‘He's gone,’ said Mrs Khaan. ‘He left when you were still a child. He just couldn't cope with the responsibility of father-hood, he disappeared, and not with the Fun Brigade. Your father disappeared because he never really wanted us, or if he did he was more concerned with what he wanted for himself. I did, though. I have raised you, fed you and loved you as only a mother can, and yet you treat me this way?’

‘You!’ screamed Tengis. ‘Why is everything always about
you
? Have you not heard what I have been saying? This whole place is putrid. We are being treated like idiots. Somebody has to make a stand and do something before we degenerate any further. I am going to be that person. You'll see. One day you'll remember what I've said and maybe then you'll understand me. Until you do I cannot live under the same roof as you. So long as you put up with this way of life your home is as putrid as the gutters of Baatarulaan.’

‘Tengis!’ said Mrs Khaan. She had begun to cry. ‘My son, what are you saying?’

‘I'm leaving, Mother,’ said Tengis. He had started to calm himself. ‘I have a life to find. That life is certainly not here, not at the moment anyway. Don't cry for me. I will survive; I know how to stay alive. You will hold your head high once I have made things better. You will be proud of me.’

‘I
am
proud of you,’ sobbed Mrs Khaan. ‘Please, Tengis, please don't go. What will I do without you here? You might be able to survive but I don't know if I will.’

‘You have survived worse than this,’ said Tengis. He took his mother in his arms. ‘This is something I need to do. I am sorry if I have hurt you. I have to leave, I have to be what I am meant to be, I am destined for great things.’

‘What about Clown Oldortar?’ said Mrs Khaan. She knew that her son had his mind set. ‘He will be looking for you. He controls everything. How will you keep safe? Odval, you must contact Odval. You can't leave or go anywhere without speaking to her. Where are you going to go?’

‘I cannot tell you, Mother,’ said Tengis. ‘The less you know the easier it will be when you speak to Clown Oldortar. He won't hurt you. Odval will have to wait. Perhaps the passing of time will help her see that I am being logical, that I am Chinggis Khaan, that I am the great person she once believed me to be. Perhaps she will come to love me, even – perhaps not! My purpose transcends friendship. For the time being it transcends family, too.’

9

Lily had spent several days at her makeshift camp trying in vain to understand what it was that Chinggis had meant when he wrote: ‘A tiger wearing a bell will starve and a cat that likes to eat fresh fish will not go into the water; however, the distance between Heaven and Earth is no greater than one thought.’

Her first task was to identify who it was that Chinggis was referring to. There were only city dwellers, herders and Outsiders.

She surmised that the feline references related in some way to Baatarulaan. She had heard the elders often refer to the city's inhabitants as ‘fat cats’. That made sense – who else could it mean? Lily knew that city dwellers were far more showy and extravagant than her nomadic group. In Lily's opinion, the people who lived in the city were too lazy to fend for themselves. Her father had warned her against the corruption and base nature of those within Baatarulaan's walls. Still, he had also inferred that they did have riches far beyond anything any mere herder could ever expect. Lily's father and the elders actually shunned riches; so long as they had enough they knew that was enough. More led to more problems. But riches were riches and would never lose their real appeal so long as humans breathed.

However, Lily knew that the appeal of riches was greed and that, no matter how many riches she accumulated, greed would have kept her poor for ever; even the abundance of this world
would not make her rich. It was an odd conundrum but Lily knew that living as a herder she was living on the side of the equation she preferred. City dwellers were welcome to the other and from what she had heard they wallowed and waddled in it each and every day. They certainly acted like the furry fat felines that occasionally took up with the nomadic group, always expecting to be lifted into carts when it came time to move on rather than walking anywhere! Fat cats of all kinds had an easy life.

As for Outsiders, Lily had only ever heard of them in stories told by the elders to frighten the group's children. No one from the group had actually ever seen an Outsider or been further than a day or two's ride by horse from wherever the camp was based. That had never resulted in crossing or coming close to any borders. People knew better than to stray too far from Baatarulaan, no matter how much they disliked the urban sprawl. Indeed, no one had been outside Ongolium, let alone met an Outsider, for over a dozen generations.

At least, that was the case in the real world. In the spirit world Lily had encountered many oddly dressed people who had strange customs. However, she knew that the words of Chinggis had to refer to the real world. As far as Lily was aware, Chinggis had never had the shamanic gift. No Outsiders existed in Lily's experience of the real world.

Lily couldn't understand the Heaven and Earth reference. Although she spent an increasing amount of time in the spirit world, she had never thought of it as Heaven. She often wondered whether Heaven even existed; it did seem a far-fetched idea. Her time in her other world was interesting, wonderful even, but certainly not heavenly. It was full of challenges and surprises, and not always pleasant ones. There were people in that place that were anything but ethereal beings.

By the time of Lily's fourth night of camping, Lucky was
becoming agitated. The horses in Ongolium are not like those found elsewhere. They are shorter, sturdier and more single-minded than their cousins in other lands. When an Ongolian horse is agitated everybody knows about it. Lucky had started stamping his front legs that afternoon. By the time evening had fallen into darkness he was listlessly jumping up and down on the spot. He whinnied loudly and snorted messily.

‘Shhh!’ said Lily. ‘Please, Lucky, we will go home soon, I promise. I just need a little more time trying to think about this.’ She stroked the nose of her faithful steed and nuzzled her face against his.

Her actions appeared to appease Lucky, at least for the time being. He stopped being restless and relaxed back into his usual sensible, if slightly grumpy, self.

Lily, as leader, had the pick of her group's horses. There were many fine stallions among the herd. Generally each person had at least two beasts to do their bidding. One horse was rarely sufficient if undertaking a longer journey. While Lucky was not the runt of the herd, neither was he among the equine in-crowd. For a breed of short horses he was one of the shortest. For a breed of single-minded horses he was most definitely one of the most bloody-minded. Lily could have chosen any of the horses, but she didn't. No matter how grumpy, stubborn or obstinate Lucky was, he more than made up for with his sense and sensibility. For Lily he had a charm that none of the more flighty fancy horses could ever attain. As Lily would reply to her steed's various detractors: ‘A donkey that carries me is worth more than a horse that kicks me.’ She was very sensible like that, and so was Lucky. Both lived on the periphery of their respective communities; they made perfect life partners.

Having settled Lucky, Lily returned to her thinking. She decided that, since the answer wasn't readily coming to her around the campfire, then she would explore for it in the spirit
world. She placed some logs on the fire to make sure she stayed warm during her visit. Sitting cross-legged next to the warmth, she glanced at Lucky knowingly. He nodded back to affirm that he would keep his eyes open. Returning to the fire, Lily gazed long and deep into its bright dancing flow. She sank into herself and began to slow her breathing. Her eyes remained open, staring at the glowing embers. Lily began to emit a strange noise. It was far from her usual voice and came from much deeper inside her. She began a slow chant. Lucky snorted casually as he watched his mistress fall into her trance. Lily chanted more loudly and slower: ‘Ooohhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm . . .’

Her body resonated to the sound. She could sense her spine tingling and senses buzzing. Natural electricity began to pulse, rising from her tail bone, spreading its power throughout her abdomen and up through her neck. As the electricity increased, a force began to build inside her. It grew with each pulse, welling upwards. Extending through her limbs, it focused on her diaphragm. Breathing became more difficult but she forcefully expelled the air from her lungs. The pressure mounted. It snaked its way up her body towards her head. It targeted her forehead. Once there it exploded from the centre just above her eyes. Lily remained motionless, breathing deeply with her eyes fixed upon the fire. Lily blinked her eyes and departed.