Emperor

“What happened?” Marcia asked.

“They’re in there,” said Steve, as he swung into the saddle. “That’s good, because now we know where they are. I don’t think anyone saw me.”

“Then we can stay at another i

“I’ll do the same thing again, in case that group had to split up to get rooms.”

They rode to another i

This time a slender, white-haired man approached him and bowed. “Good evening, stranger. Are you in need of lodging?”

“I may be,” said Steve. “I, uh, had an argument yesterday with other travelers along this road. I would like to avoid them if I can.”

“I see. Well, I have some soldiers here on their way south to Khanbaliq.”

“The ones I’m talking about are going north. some merchants and students, as well as soldiers.”

“I have no group like that.”

Steve gri

“Very well. I ask six coppers for each room.”

“Fine. I’ll take our horses to the stable.”

“Of course.”

As Steve hurried out, he realized that he had forgotten to bargain. It was too late now; he had revealed to the i

The hostler was a tall, gaunt man with graying hair who walked stiffly with age. With a weary, uninterested nod, he took the reins from Steve and Marcia. Steve untied the cloth bag with their changes of clothes from the back of the saddle. As they started toward the i

A group of Mongol riders rode through the gate. Gri

“I guess the battalion was dismissed,” said Steve.

“Let’s get inside,” said Marcia. “I’m scared.”

“All right.”

They turned away.

“Ho! You there!” One of the soldiers called out in accented Chinese.

“Ignore him,” Marcia whispered. “Let’s just get inside.”

“I better not,” said Steve. “We don’t want to make them mad.” He turned and looked up at the riders. “Good evening,” he said in Mongol.

The lead rider raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You speak our language?”

“Yes, friend. And I see you have fine horses. We saw you ride a few minutes ago, beyond the wall.’ Steve figured a compliment would always be wise.

“The best in Mongolia.” The rider gri

“A little,” Steve said modestly. He was certain that boasting himself would be a mistake. “I had a very fine one of a different desert breed once. She was the kind ridden by the Arabs.”

“Ah! My uncle rode against the Arabs in the west. He fought in Persia.”

“Then he must have seen the same breed.”

“He must have.” The Mongol shrugged. “Is this i

“Uh, no, it’s not crowded.”

“Good.” He swung out of the saddle, and his companions did likewise. Without even looking at the hostler, he gestured for the old man to take their horses. He turned to Steve. “You will come and drink with us as my guest.”

“Well, I have ordered di

“Do what he says,” Marcia muttered quickly in English. “Keep him happy. But they know a decent woman won’t drink with them, so I’m going up to my room. Bring me something to eat when you can, okay?” She took the cloth bag from him.

“All right,” said Steve. He didn’t know what else to do. “But what’s koumiss?”

“Fermented mare’s milk.” Marcia hurried into the i

Steve grimaced at the idea of that, then turned to the Mongol leader, speaking in Mongol again. “Thank you. I will be honored to join you.”

The Mongol clapped him on the shoulder. “Wine and food for all of us,” he called to the i

The i

The Mongol leader led the group to the table closest to the fireplace and gestured for them all to sit down.