If Ogotai lived. That is what Ahriman was trying to accomplish. That was what I had to prevent. My mission in this time and place was not to kill Ahriman. It was to kill Ogotai.

Cursing, crying out into the thunder-racked night, I turned my pony back toward the haphazard capital of the Mongols, leaving Agla alone and defenseless in the storm, heading back toward Karakorum to murder the man who had befriended me.

CHAPTER 21.

I tethered the pony under the projecting eaves of the house the Mongols had given Agla and me. The rain still fell heavily, sweeping across the cleared space around the ordu in blustery waves. The twin bonfires were dark and cold. No one was in sight. Ogotai's tent swayed and billowed in the gusting wind. I could hear the tent ropes creaking.

Every conscious thought in me urged me to ride back into the grassland to find Agla. She was searching for me there, risking her life to save mine, and I was here on a mission of murder while I left her to wander alone through the raging storm.

But something stronger than my conscious will was directing me now. Like a warrior who marches numbly into battle even though every fiber of his being wants to run away to safety, I walked toward Ogotai's sleeping tent, stiff with the icy cold of the night, hunched over against the slashing rain and wind.

I was a clever assassin. Instead of heading straight for the sleeping tent, I crossed the open space surrounding the ordu on the far side of the High Khan's main tent, away from the blackened embers of the two bonfires, where there would be no guards posted to observe my approach. I entered the big, swaying, creaking tent. It was dark and empty. The long silver table had been cleared. The cushions where the Mongols lounged while their slaves attended them had been removed.

Crossing the darkened tent swiftly, I crept along the shadows of the silken hangings that shielded the entrance which connected it to the High Khan's sleeping tent. Two warriors stood at the entrance, erect, awake, and fully armed. I slid back behind the hangings and tried to gather my thoughts.

Whether Ogotai was awake or asleep, he would no doubt have those six deaf and dumb guards in his sleeping tent with him. My only chance to kill him would be to rush in and strike him down before the guards could react. What happened afterward did not matter. I told myself that several times, and I knew that I was prepared to do it. But the other side of my mind was begging me to run away, to find Agla and go far from here, find a place where death and murder were unknown, a place where we could live together in peace and love forever. While the Mongols conquered the rest of the world and inexorably snuffed out the flickering lights of learning and growth, I heard myself answer. While the human race sank into decay, despotism, and despair. While Ahriman won his eons-long battle and watched all of humanity wither away into extinction.

I shook myself the way a dog shakes water off its fur. "Agla," I whispered so low that I myself could not truly hear the words, "perhaps we'll meet again, somewhere, somewhen."

Slipping my curved dagger from its sheath, I slowly, silently sliced a cut through the tough fabric of the tent wall and carefully stepped through it, into Ogotai's sleeping tent. Another silk hanging was draped over the tent's side so that I made my entrance unnoticed by those inside.

The tent was dimly lit. Through the silken fabric I could see nothing more than shadows. But I could hear men speaking. It was Ahriman's voice that I heard first. I froze where I stood, not even daring to breathe for fear of moving the tapestry and revealing my presence.

"Sleep will come soon, my lord High Khan," said the Dark One's heavy, tortured voice.

"The pain is bad tonight," Ogotai replied.

"It is the dampness," Ahriman said. "Wet weather makes the pain worse."

"And you make the potion stronger."

"That is necessary, to keep the pain away."

"But the pain is winning, Persian. Each night it grows stronger. I can feel it, despite your potions."

"Did you suffer badly during the hunt, my lord?"

"Enough. Your draughts kept me going. But if it hadn't been for Orion, I would be dead now."

I could hear Ahriman give out a long, growling sigh.

"You still prophesy," Ogotai asked, "that he will try to kill me?"

"He is an assassin, High Khan. He was sent here to murder you."

"I cannot believe it."

Ahriman's rasping voice took on an air of complete certainty. "The next time you see him. High Khan, he will attempt to assassinate you. Be warned."

"Enough!" Ogotai snapped. "If he had wanted to kill me, he could have let the boar do the job. He saved my life, wizard."

"And won your confidence."

Ogotai did not answer. For long moments I heard nothing but the keening of the wind outside and the creaking of the tent ropes.

"My lord High Khan," Ahriman said, in his harsh whisper, "a month from now your general Subotai will gather the strength of his army once again and march farther west, across the lands of the German princes, across the broad river called the Rhine, and into the land of the Franks. These Franks are mighty warriors. It was they who turned back the Saracens many years ago. It is they who even today battle against the Ottomans near Jerusalem. But Ogotai will crush them utterly and destroy their cities. He will reach the wide sea and plant the yak-tail standard on its shore. You will rule all the lands between the two mighty oceans. All of Europe and Asia will be yours."

"You have prophesied all this before," said Ogotai. He sounded weary, dulled, sleepy.

"Indeed," Ahriman admitted. "But none of this will come to pass if the High Khan dies and all the Orkhons and generals must return to Karakorum to elect a new High Khan. Orion knows this. That is why he must strike you down soon, within the next few days, if he is to save Europe from Subotai's conquest."

"I understand your words, wizard," Ogotai said, slowly. "But I do not believe them."

"My prophecies have never failed you, High Khan."

"Leave me, wizard. Let me sleep in peace."

"I am..."

"Leave," Ogotai commanded.

I heard Ahriman's heavy, lumbering tread cross the tent and disappear into the night. For several minutes I remained behind the tapestry while, one by one, the lamps in the tent were snuffed out. Finally there was only one dim light flickering. It stayed lit, and I decided that Ogotai was not going to have it put out.

I stepped out from behind the hanging. The High Khan was lying atop the quilts of his bed, wearing a rough robe of homespun. His face looked haggard. He was sweating. But he was still awake, and he saw me.

So did his guards. Six swords leaped from their scabbards.

Ogotai made a motion with his hands. The guards stood where they were, swords gripped tightly in their hands.

"They see the dagger in your hand, Orion," said Ogotai, "and fear you are here to slay me."

Only then did I realize that I still held the weapon. I opened my fingers and let it drop to the carpet. Ogotai gestured to the guards and they sheathed their swords and left the tent.

The two of us were alone.

The High Khan seemed drained of all strength. His eyes focused on me, and I could see agony in them.

"Have you come to fulfill Ahriman's prophecy?" he asked. "Have you come to kill me?"

"If I must."

He almost smiled. "It is not fitting for a Mongol warrior to take his own life. But I have a devil inside my body, Orion. It burns inside me like a red-hot coal. It is killing me slowly, inch by inch."

Cancer. That was why Ahriman was providing him with pain-killers. But not even Ahriman's skills could cure cancer once it was so far advanced.

"My lord High Khan..."

"Orion, my friend. I cannot be struck down in battle. I am too old for that. I barely made it through the hunt. But you you can strike me down. You can give me a clean death, instead of this lingering foulness." can strike me down. You can give me a clean death, instead of this lingering foulness."

The breath caught in my throat. "How can I kill a man who calls me friend?"

"Death always wins, in the end. It took my father, did it not? It will take me. The only question is when... and how much pain there will be. I am not a coward, Orion-" he swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment-"but I have had my share of pain."

I stood there by his bed, unable to move.

"You are a loyal friend," Ogotai said. "You hesitate because you know that if you kill me, the prophecy of Ahriman will not come to pass: the Mongols will not rule the entire world."

How could I tell him that this was why I had had to murder him? to murder him?

"I like your own prophecy better, Orion. Let the Mongols live in peace. Let other nations struggle and war against one another. As long as we find peace... and rest..."

His eyes squeezed shut again and his whole body arched on the bed like a man being tortured on the rack.

When he opened his eyes again, there were tears in them. "Not even Ahriman's potion is-helping tonight. I weep like a woman."

My hand slid to the empty sheath at my belt.

Ogotai's breathing had become shallow, gasping. "It would not be good for the others to see me so weak. The High Khan should not appear with tears in his eyes."

I remembered that among the Mongols it was forbidden to shed blood. I turned and took a pillow from the chair beside his bed.

Ogotai actually smiled at me. "Good-bye, my friend from the western lands."

I covered his face with the pillow. By the time I lifted it from him, there were tears in my eyes.

I walked slowly out of the tent, past the guards who still stood at the entrance. The storm had blown away. Dawn was turning the sky pink. I strode back to the house, to the pony tethered beside it, mounted up and rode out of the city. Agla was still there in the wilderness, somewhere. Perhaps I could reach her before the Mongols realized what I had done.

For two days and nights I searched the grassy open plain, wondering if Agla had survived the storm, wondering if the Mongols would come hunting for me, wondering what Ahriman was doing to revenge himself for my thwarting his plan.

On the morning of the third day I saw a pony, head drooping, reins dragging on the grass, its saddle askew and empty. I had been walking my horse, but I quickly mounted up and dug my heels into its flanks. I galloped along, following the trail that Agla's mount had left in the grass, my heart racing faster than the pony's drumming hooves.

And then I saw a figure sprawled on the ground as if it had fallen from its horse or dropped with exhaustion. I bent over my pony's neck and raced toward her.

But suddenly the world seemed to drop away from me. I was falling-falling in a crazy, wild, spinning tunnel-my arms and legs flailing against emptiness as a flashing kaleidoscope of vivid colors battered at my senses. Just as suddenly I was floating in utter darkness, disembodied in a black pit of weightless, timeless suspension.

"Agla!" I screamed. But there was no sound.

How long I hung suspended, bodiless in that dark void, I have no way of knowing. Slowly I began to realize that this was Ahriman's doing, his revenge upon me for thwarting him: I was sentenced to an eternity of nothingness.

But then I saw a tiny spark of light, a distant star glimmering against the vast, indifferent emptiness, and my heart leaped. The star grew, shimmering, into a golden sphere and slowly took the shape of a glowing golden man.

Ormazd.

You have done well, Orion. I could not hear his words, for no sound existed in this blankness. But I understood what he was saying. This was his his doing, not Ahriman's. Ormazd had taken me away from Agla, whisked me out of time once I had completed his bidding. This was my reward for stopping Ahriman once again. doing, not Ahriman's. Ormazd had taken me away from Agla, whisked me out of time once I had completed his bidding. This was my reward for stopping Ahriman once again.

But your work is far from finished, he was telling me Ahriman still threatens the continuum. You have only deflected his evil; you have not ended it.

I felt myself falling again and heard wind whistling past me. I opened my mouth in a long primal scream of anger-anger directed not against Ahriman, my enemy, but against Ormazd, my creator.

INTERLUDE.

Orion's body floated lifelessly on nothingness in an infinite void. The Golden One appeared, shimmering into radiant human form, and began to examine his handiwork.

With senses that could discern the energy levels of individual atoms, the Golden One inspected the inert form floating before him. He nodded to himself, satisfied.

"He did not need to die this time."

The Golden One did not bother to look up. "No. Yet he still resisted my summons."

"He is learning to hate you."

"He is learning that his own petty desires are sometimes in conflict with mine. And the one he hates is the godlike personage he knows as Ormazd. That is only a small part of me, as you well know."

A silver gleaming lit the featureless expanse, and the one who called herself Anya appeared, clad in metallic silver from throat to foot, her dark hair tied severely back away from her face. Her silver-gray eyes looked first at the Golden One, as they must, and then focused on the body of Orion.

"He wanted to stay where he was," she said.

"Yes. With you."

"We were happy together."

The Golden One made a gesture that might have been resignation, might have been pique. "He was not sent on this mission to be happy happy. He has a task to accomplish."

"You send him to kill the Dark One; yet he does not have the strength to do so."

"He will, eventually. He must."

"You have not made him strong enough," Anya insisted.

"No." The Golden One shook his head. "It is you who are weakening him."

"I?".

"You make him realize how alone he is. You make him desire companionship, even love."

Anya's chin rose a stubborn inch. "Have you ever considered, while you are playing your game of infinities, that he he makes makes me me desire companionship... even love?" desire companionship... even love?"

"Nonsense! You cannot..."