Free Casca 34: Devil's Horseman by Tony Roberts

matters go. Both Kuyuk and Mongke outrank me.” He sounded jealous, and maybe a touch resentful.
    Casca looked thoughtfully at the two nearest princes. Kuyuk was seated at the first place down from Batu, and opposite him was Mongke. Both smiled predatorily and lifted their wine goblets. The Eternal Mercenary nodded at each. Batu’s father Jochi had always had a question mark over his parentage; although the first born son of Genghis Khan, his birth had come shortly after his mother Borte had been freed from captivity and there were those who said Jochi was not Genghis’ son. So that stain had passed down from father to son. Batu was obviously lower down the pecking order than the descendants of the other three sons of Genghis.
    But this was his army, his campaign. As such, he was the commander. He waved at the assembled princes. “The princes have taken command of various tumens and minghans, and they are eager to enlarge the empire for the glory of our people.” Casca grunted. They were more interested in plunder than glory, and probably didn’t give a damn about Batu or enlarging the empire in which Batu’s realm would profit. But they would publicly agree they were all acting as one.
    Subedei belched and patted his girth. “Therefore it is our task to subdue the principalities that stand to the west of the mighty river called the Volga.” He described how he had just over a dozen years before defeated a Russian army and that he was confident of doing the same again, but it was important to keep the Russian princes from joining forces. If they could be kept separate, then they could be defeated piecemeal. So the plan was to thrust hard through the center, splitting Novgorod and Vladimir in the north from the southern princedoms. That meant invading Riazan and conquering it swiftly.
    After that the talk drifted to other matters and the tale of how Bulgar was destroyed. It was a chilling story, and Casca had a feeling it was merely a foretaste of what was soon to be repeated across the unsuspecting Russian states. Some of the princes were very drunk by now and each of them vowing to take more plunder and glory than their comrades. It was a useful time for Casca though, as he worked out who was on whose side. Batu had four brothers amongst the princes, so his power bloc was fairly big. Kuyuk had one brother with him, as did Mongke. The other two were from the line of Chaghadai, Baidar, a son, and the young Buri, Chaghadai’s grandson. Buri was a hot head and often spoke before he thought. He also was sucking up to Kuyuk and it was clear he favored him as opposed to Mongke. The rival camps were clear to see.
    During the evening Kuyuk lurched up to Casca who had been peeling off a slab of mutton from a steaming plate. “So, Old Young One, you’ve seen and listened to both me and Mongke. Who do you believe should be the next Khan?”
    Casca shrugged. “Kuyuk Khan, it is far too soon to make my mind up. I need to see you in action and how you lead men. So far both of you are equal in earning respect from your men and in drinking wine. But there’s much more to being Khan than having sycophantic adulation and getting drunk.”
    Kuyuk stared incredulously at Casca for a moment, then whooped in amusement and slapped the scarred mercenary on the shoulder. “You have a sense of humor! Good, you’ll need one around that old woman Batu! Without one you’ll soon lose the will to live!” Laughing, he staggered off to find a place to urinate.
    As the night went on, further conversation became impossible. As Casca had once heard someone say, conversation became ‘less structured’. Subedei heaved himself up and approached Casca. “Old Young One, I need to retire to my yurt. Please escort me. I wish to talk over the old times when I was less in size and more in agility!”
    Batu came over, a worried look on his face. “Subedei, you must be careful; there is much ice outside. Old Young One, you will take care of