Rogue Angel - The Spirit Banner Part 48

"You won the match with Holuin and, like the camel, you gave away something of value-your freedom. After all, the rules were simple. In order to gain your freedom, only one of you could leave the circle alive. Yet when given the chance, you chose not to kill him. Why is that?"

She didn't even have to think about that one. "Because it wouldn't have been right," she answered hotly. "He'd been defeated. What use would taking his life have served?"

"A wise answer, for one so young. You have the wisdom of the ages about you."

Not knowing what to say to that, Annja chose to remain silent.

"But wisdom is not alone. Destiny has her claws in you, as well, I think."

Annja was too surprised to answer. She wondered if all conversations with Temujin were like this-jumping from subject to subject, knowing there was a pattern beneath it all but being unable to see it until he'd surprised you with something else.

He didn't appear to notice her consternation. "Yes, destiny has claimed you as her own. A harsh mistress she is, but one that cannot be easily ignored." He smiled. "Trust me, I know. So what are we to do with you, Annja Creed?"

She didn't hesitate. "Let us go. The men you punished were criminals in your world as well as mine. They will not be missed, nor will we mention what happened to them if we are asked. When we leave here I give you my word that we will not return."

"Even if the answers you seek can be found here and nowhere else?"

Davenport would be disappointed, but she was convinced even he would recognize the necessity of agreeing with the Wolf's request. Besides, there was more than one way to skin a cat.

"Even then," she replied.

He gazed into her eyes and Annja was overcome with the feeling that he was not just looking at the surface of her flesh, but looking deeper, somehow seeing into the depths of her very soul, searching it for a sign that she was being less than sincere.

She was suddenly thankful that she hadn't lied.

He would have known; she didn't doubt it for a moment.

This time his smile didn't hold any frivolity but was more the smile of one resigned to something that could not be avoided and trying to show a brave face. "Fate has much in store for you, Annja Creed. And those who choose to argue with fate never win. I shall not set myself on that road."

He clapped his hands suddenly, startling her.

"So be it. I shall have my men escort you to the edge of the Ikh Khorig, with the understanding that you will be killed on sight should you cross into our territory again in the future."

Annja felt the weight on her chest lift and she breathed easily for the first time in days.

She stood and gave a quick bow. "Thank you. For my life and the life of my companion."

a.s.suming the audience was over, she turned and made her way back to the door. As she reached out to move the thin curtain aside, the Wolf spoke once more.

"What you are looking for cannot be found, Annja Creed. It does not exist in the way that you think. Chinggis is at rest. The Eternal Blue Heaven wishes that it remain that way and so it does. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

She glanced back at him, looking for hidden meaning in his words but seeing nothing but that wily smile and the stark intelligence in his eyes.

"I understand," she said, though, in truth, she did not.

She knew he was aware of that, as well.

He nodded and then turned away, which she took as her cue to leave.

She wasted no more time before doing so.

44.

Holuin and a squad of six Mongol warriors escorted them down the mountainside shortly thereafter. Annja and Davenport had each been given a horse to ride, with instructions to set them free once they reached the edge of the steppes; the horses would find their own way home or return to the wild, as the eternal blue heaven saw fit.

They left the mountain by a different route than the one they had used on the ascent. This time it was easier for Annja to note landmarks along the way. By the time they reached the foot of Burkhan Khaldun she was all but certain she could have retraced her way right back to the door of the Wolf's den.

It didn't matter, though. Somehow she knew that if they ever managed to find their way back to that particular canyon again they would find it empty, all trace of the clan having vanished into thin air as if they had never been.

The Wolf was too wily to remain where his enemies could find him so easily.

As they rode, she found herself thinking about the legend of the Darkhats and comparing it to what she knew of the Wolf and his people. Clearly they had some contact with the outside world; both the Wolf and Holuin spoke near-perfect English. In fact, it was good enough that she knew they must have either been trained by a native speaker or spent significant time in an English-speaking country. And the range and variety of the artifacts in the Wolf's ger ger suggested someone who had traveled rather extensively. suggested someone who had traveled rather extensively.

But if your job was to protect the tomb of your nation's greatest leader from any and all who came looking for it, wouldn't it behoove you to understand just what the outside world was like? What the people who lived in it were capable of? To pay attention to the growing tide of interest in Genghis Khan and the tomb itself as Mongolia came out from under the Communist thumb?

Of course it would.

But then there was the comment the Wolf had made just before she took her leave of him. "What you are looking for cannot be found," he'd said. Did that mean that the exact location of the tomb had been lost through the ages? Or that the tomb didn't exist at all, which had been her original belief?

She didn't know and probably never would.

Just one more puzzle in a life full of mystery.

It was close to sunset when they reached the place where the river split into three separate waterways and where the voice in the earth had led them to the map. It was there that Holuin and his men intended to leave them. The trucks the expedition had driven in from Ulaanbaatar weren't far from this point and Annja was certain she could find her way without difficulty.

The distant cry of a gold eagle, rare in these days even in Mongolia, reached them and, looking up, they saw a lone rider sitting atop a horse high on a nearby bluff. In his hand was a white sulde sulde and Annja could see the horsehair blowing in the wind, gathering power for the standard bearer and determining his destiny. and Annja could see the horsehair blowing in the wind, gathering power for the standard bearer and determining his destiny.

The rider's face was in shadow, but she didn't need to see it in order to know it was the Wolf.

For whatever reason, he'd come to see her off.

His voice echoed in her mind.

Destiny has claimed you as her own. A harsh mistress she is, but one that cannot be easily ignored. Trust me, I know.

And just like that the pieces fell together in her mind like dominoes, the pattern revealed as the fog of confusion rolled away.

The missing page from the journal containing the final clue.

The lack of a body in the Tomb of the Virgins.

The use of the Wolf moniker, which was clearly a reference to the Mongolian folktale that their people were descended from the gray wolf of the steppes. As well as the name of the clan from which their greatest hero had descended.

And finally, the name.

Temujin.