The History of China - #160 - Mongol 2: The Black Sable
Episode Date: February 25, 2019In spite of difficulties, Ho'elun and her family endeavor to persevere. Temüjin discovers the power of friendship, and the clarity of purpose that comes with true love ...
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Hello, and welcome to the History of China.
Episode 160, The Black Sable.
Nobody wants him.
He just stares at the world, planning his vengeance that he soon will unfold.
Now the time is here for Iron Man to spread fear.
Vengeance from the grave kills the people he once saved.
Iron Man by Black Sabbath The Taiichi Hood clan leaders had made themselves clear in the year 1170.
They would no longer care for Hoilun, her five children, her sister-in-law,
or her two children. They expected, in short, for the nine of them to die of cold and starvation
among the tiger conifers of the Henti Mountains when winter returned, and they would not lift a
finger to prevent it. As the remaining members of the tribal coalition had snuck off in the dead of
night following Hoilun's shaming them into not abandoning her and her family in the light of day,
they even went so far as to steal her livestock as they left, virtually ensuring their swift demise.
But Huilun did not die, nor did her eldest son, the then eight-year-old Temujin, nor did any of the other eight in her care.
The secret history of
the Mongols tells it as, quote, Lady Huilun, born a woman of wisdom, raised her little ones,
her own children. Wearing her high hat tightly on her head, hoisting her skirts with a sash,
she ran upstream along the Olon's banks, gathering pears and fruits with which to
nourish their gullets day and night.
Wielding a pointed stick of juniper, she dug up sorba and pontentilla roots and nourished them.
With wild onions and garlic, the sons of the noble mother were nourished until they became rulers.
The sons of the patient noble mother were reared on elm seeds and became wise men and lawgivers.
With wild leeks, shallots, and garlic, the beautiful lady raised her admirable sons. They said amongst themselves, Let us support our mother.
Sitting on the banks of the Mother Onon, they prepared lines and hooks, with which they caught
maimed and misshapen fishes. Bending needles into fishhooks, they caught whitefish and scad. Tying trapping nets and fishing nets, they scooped up small fishes.
Thus they gratefully supported their mother.
End quote.
The Persian scholar Giovanni, a notable Mongol sympathizer
who would himself visit the steppes of Mongolia a half-century later, in the 1230s,
would write in his history that the family was forced to wear
clothing composed of, quote, the skins of dogs and mice, and their food was the flesh of those
animals and other dead things, end quote. Huilin and her two families in her care had already been
living on the edge of the world, but now they had been forced to the outermost raggedy extremity of even that paltry existence.
Nevertheless, through nearly superhuman effort, they persisted, and they survived.
There was even the occasional time for frivolity, and it would be through these rare but powerful experiences of friendship and childhood alliances that Temujin would come to define the world
around him and those he would allow into his circle of trust.
Two primary relationships seem to have crystallized his attitudes early in life, that of his first
and best friend, and that of his elder half-brother.
The extended family he had known all of his life, literally packing up and leaving him to die,
certainly made an impact on Temujin. That flying-in-the-face-of-all-step culture,
blood ties meant little in and of themselves. But so too did the first relationship he formed
of his own choosing also deeply impacted Temujin's outlook. His first and best childhood friend would
be a distant relation whose own
family camped sporadically but repeatedly near Hoi Lun's camp along the banks of the Upper Onun,
a boy around his own age named Jamuka. Their friendship would forge the idea in young Temujin's
mind that, as Weatherford puts it, he must, quote,
defy the strict caste structure of the steppes, take charge of his fate, and to rely on alliances As Weatherford puts it, he must, quote, Though their distant relation through Temujin's father was the inn that allowed them to associate in the first place,
the rest of Temujin and Jamukha's relationship was voluntary and mutual.
They hunted, fished, and played together,
both games of horsemanship such as lassoing, archery,
and a form of open-handed jousting while standing on the horseback,
as well as games of chance like dice from the knuckles of ankle bones.
In the winters, they would include games along the frozen rivers
that approximated curling and even skating, tying bones to their feet to glide along the ice.
Weatherford says, quote,
These skills later gave the Mongols a great advantage because, unlike almost every other army, the Mongols easily rode and even fought on frozen rivers and lakes, end quote.
Whereas the settled societies of Central Asia and even Eastern Europe viewed the winter freeze as a protection against invasion,
the Mongols viewed such frozen bodies as the Volga and the Danube as highways.
Twice in the course of their childhood, they would swear oaths of eternal brotherhood to one another, known as andas.
Both of these oaths would involve a ceremonial exchange of gifts.
The first, as children of about 11, were sheep knuckle bone dice.
In this, Temujin's gift outshone that of Jamukha's, being inlaid with a small piece
of brass, a rare and expensive piece that came, surely, from a land far away.
Their second oath, a year later and now taken as men, saw the exchange of a man's gift,
arrow heads. now taken as men, saw the exchange of a man's gift. Arrowheads. This time, it was Jamukha's
turn to one-up Temujin. Whereas Temujin presented his sworn brother with a fine cypress wood arrowhead
of his own hand, Jamukha had fitted together the splinters of a calf's horn and, by drilling a hole
in them, rendered it into a whistling arrowhead. To seal the oath of brotherhood, both then swallowed
a small amount of the other's blood,
thus taking into himself a part of the other's very soul. The night after each of these ceremonies,
as was tradition, the two sworn brothers shared a tent and a bed with one another.
Jamukha would be the only Anda that Temujin ever took in his life, and though the years to come
would separate the boys by many miles, neither would forget the other, and the fates would bring them together again in time.
In marked contrast to the bond forged by Temujin with Jamukha, his relationship with his elder
half-brother, Behtar, was markedly more hostile. Probably having butted even before their mutual
father's death, a rivalry had developed between the half-siblings of Yesge's two widows.
As the oldest male, even though only by months into a lesser wife of their mutual father,
Mongol tradition dictated that Bekhtar was to exercise absolute authority over the household,
a power that, in time, went to the boy's head.
The initial incident recorded in the Secret History tells of Hoilun's two eldest sons, Tamajin and Hasar,
hunting for small game with the two sons of Sochiku, Bekhtar and Belgate.
When Tamajin shot a lark, Bekhtar wasted little time in snatching it up away from his half-brothers,
as was, admittedly, his prerogative.
Unsurprisingly, though, this did
not sit well with Temujin, and when the same thing happened the following day when fishing along the
Onon, they immediately ran off to their mother's gir and complained of their half-brother's theft.
To their shock and dismay, however, Huilun scolded them, saying,
quote,
Desist! Why do you, older and younger brothers, behave in such a way towards one another?
Apart from our shadows, we have no friends. Apart from our tales, we have no fat.
Just when we were thinking of how to settle the score with our Taichuid kinsmen,
you behave as Mother Alain's five sons once did.
Why do you not work together? You must cease to behave in such a way.
End quote.
Huilun's siding with Bekhtur and his prerogatives as head of household had wide-ranging ramifications,
very few of which Temujin was willing to accept or abide.
Probably the most stinging prospect was that eventually,
Bekhtur would have the right of sexual access and marriage to Huilun as his father's widow.
Incensed, Temujin stormed out of his mother's gir, throwing aside the felt door flap, a highly offensive gesture. Arming themselves with their bows, they were determined to have their vengeance
on the brother that had so abused and lorded over them. Together they stalked him, as they might have stalked game on the fields,
creeping up as he sat atop a small crest.
Temujin directed his younger brother to circle around to Bekhtar's front,
while he would approach from their brother's rear.
Once within striking distance, each knocked an arrow and raised themselves up above the tall grass,
likely expecting their quarry to flee or at least startle. Instead, Becture regarded
them with an icy serenity. He understood the look in their eye and knew what it likely meant for him,
but was nevertheless to show no fear before his younger siblings. He was, after all,
the man of the house, and it wouldn't do for him to show unmanliness before his own family.
Instead, he rebuked them, in almost the exact same way that their own mother just had, saying,
quote,
We are unable to endure the bitterness that our Taiichi-yud kinsmen have caused us,
and instead ask ourselves which of us will settle this score.
Why make me to be the dirt in your eye? Why make me the fishbone in your mouth? Seeing that his words were not having much of an effect, though,
his tone then changed to that of a final entreaty.
Not for himself, but, his tone then changed to that of a final entreaty, not for himself,
but for his own younger brother.
Do not extinguish my hearth-fire! Do not forsake Belgate!
He then sat back, and spoke no other words, nor made any motion to defend himself or reach
for his own bow. After a time, the two brothers loosed their arrows at Bekhter
and left him to die alone on the steppe. Within the secret history, as in larger Mongol culture,
there is an almost absolute taboo about the mention of the spilling of blood or of death.
Yet, the murder of his half-brother was such a turning point in the life of young Temujin that
even the Mongol
chroniclers were compelled to record this incident in great detail. Even so, Onun points out that the
Secret Histories does at the very last moment shy away from actually describing the death,
noting that it utilizes the word otarmalaju, euphemistically describing what they did as shooting at Bekhter rather than
killing him, and with a word of Orkhonturkik rather than Mongol origin at that.
When the two arrived back at their mother's gur, Huilun took one look at their faces and realized
the horrible act they'd just committed. Destroyers! she cried out in rage and shame.
Accidentally issuing from my hot womb,
this one was born holding a black clot of blood in his hand, and this one, she addressed Hazar,
like the wild dog you were named after chewing on its own afterbirth, like a panther attacking on a rocky mountain, like a lion unable to control its own anger, like a monster out to swallow its
prey alive, like a girthalken attacking its own shadow, Like a pike swallowing in silence,
Like a male camel biting the heel of its young, Like a wolf stalking through a snowstorm,
Like a yellow falcon eating its young, Like a jackal protecting its den when touched,
Like a tiger that does not hesitate to seize its prey,
Like a long hairy dog rushing rashly.
Thus you have destroyed.
Apart from our shadows, we have no friends, and yet you do this to one another?
Temujin bore his mother's fury in silence,
but never betrayed any hint of guilt or sorrow over his actions,
not at the time and at no point later in his life.
He had made a decision, and then he'd acted upon it.
What was done was done.
Temujin was not a man to suffer lightly any affronts to his pride.
Those who challenged his dignity or impeded his path to power
were always made to pay a heavy penalty for the impudent behavior.
Whether it defied his mother, violated custom, or upended ancient taboo, Tamajin would do what he must to ensure that he, he and no other, would be first and only master of his domain.
Yet he would be, in his victory, alone.
For both his mother and his now-dead half-brother had been correct in their proclamations. Following Bektar's murder, Temujin, now possibly fourteen or fifteen,
would indeed have no companion but his own shadow.
Though he and his family had been left to die by the Taichi-yud clan that had abandoned him,
they had not been condemned as criminals or sentenced to die.
At least, until now.
Criminals might not be the exactly correct word, but the Taijus were concerned that the Borjigians' ongoing refusal to simply lay down and die, and now Temujin's
transgressions of the established norms in killing his own brother gave him a quote-unquote good
excuse to take action against him.
With this pretext, warriors were dispatched to their campsite on the Onun, and upon arrival,
one called out, quote,
The lambs are shedding their fleeces. The sheep are growing up.
Which is to say, your boys are becoming men and we fear what vengeance that they might be planning
when they're old enough.
The Taiichi-yud warriors called out that they only needed to take Temujin,
now the head of the household, as a hostage,
in order to ensure the rest of their good behavior and honest motivations.
Instead, and likely fearing that this was simply a ruse and that they truly meant to kill her son,
Hoelun mounted Temujin on a horse
and urged him to escape as quickly as he could. Unfortunately, the Taiichi warriors spotted him
as he retreated and gave chase, pursuing him into a thicket too small for even them to follow.
Instead, they surrounded the enclosure and for nine days waited the boy out.
At last, close to death with starvation, Tamajin was forced to leave
the thicket, but was quickly captured by his waiting jailers. Now a captive, he was placed
in a kang, a sort of mobile staccade of thick, heavy wood that held the head and hands of the
prisoner immobilized. Day and night, Tamajin was forced to drag his heavy, mobile prison around by
the neck, unable to even feed himself, and thus reliant on the occasional mercy of his Taijiqued captors, which was shared on a rotational basis by each household of the clan.
After a time, and it's not at all clear how long, as Mongol sources suggest it was quite brief,
whereas other sources suggest that it might have been a period of a decade or possibly even more.
In any event, eventually he was remanded to the subservient families,
those low-level bondsmen who, perhaps once upon a time,
had been similarly used as slave labor,
but were now in the position to be trusted with the oversight of the enslaved Tamajin.
They, unlike their Taijude overlords,
sympathized enough with the plight of the boy that they allowed him to sleep in their homes, fed him, and even put salve on his neck where his
had torn and worn away his skin. In time, he was even allowed to have the Kang removed at night,
which was against the orders of the clan heads, to allow him to rest more peaceably. But in spite of his somewhat
improved situation, Tamajin never forgot the injustice of his position, and he never stopped
looking for a chance at freedom. That chance would come on the 16th day of the first month of summer,
during a festival known as the Red Circle Day, in which the whole of Taichu clan would be
celebrating and
carousing, and of course drinking themselves into a stupor. On this day, the care of Temujin
in his kang was left to the least of their number, a frail and simple-minded boy. As he was led by
the boy away from the feast and back to the camp of the family that was assigned to him that night,
Temujin yanked the rope away from his weak guard and then leapt atop the boy,
braining him with the heavy wood about his neck.
Leaping up off the unconscious boy,
Temujin then ran into the concealing darkness of the night and the endless expanse of the steppe.
Still, he knew that he would never be able to outrun the riders that would be sent after him
as soon as his captor regained consciousness. And the steppe offered nothing in the way of concealment.
Indeed, the night itself offered little protection, as the full moon above shone down like a spotlight,
and certainly not with the gigantic Kang still locked around his neck and arms.
In truth, there was only one thing that he could do, an extremely dangerous, near-suicidal
strategy, but it was either that or definitely be killed for attacking a member of the Taichuids.
Thus, he took his only option to jump into the rushing Onon River, hide amongst his frigid
rapids, and pray to the blue sky that no one would spot him. From the Secret History, quote,
If I lie down in the unknown forests, I will be seen, he thought. So he lay down in the torrent,
with his head held back so that the Kang floated in the current. There he lay,
with only his face above water. The man who had lost him cried out in a loud voice,
I have lost the hostage!
The Taichuds who had dispersed reassembled.
Under a moon as bright as day, they searched the Onon forests.
End quote.
As they searched, an old man from the Suldus clan called Sorhan, one of the low-ranking bondsmen who had looked after Temujin in the past,
spotted the boy in the water.
Crouching down, he whispered to Temujin that he would say nothing of what he saw,
and that the boy's hiding spot was genius.
It must be because you are so clever, he said, that people say there is fire in his eyes and
light in his face. You must have made your clansmen jealous. Lie where you are. I will not
tell. Instead, he called out to his clansmen,. Lie where you are. I will not tell.
Instead, he called out to his clansmen, saying that there was nothing over by the river,
and that they need to fan out and search elsewhere. When they searched and then searched again,
Tamajin remained motionless, and Sorhan waving him by his hiding place. At last,
Sorhan reproached the nobles of the Taiichi saying,
You managed to lose a prisoner in the light of day. How can you hope to find him in the dark of night?
If we can't find him now,
then we had best wait until tomorrow before resuming the hunt.
He won't have gotten far.
After all, he's still locked in his kang.
Where could he possibly go?
Once more, the warriors swept the area.
And once more, Sor Khan approached Temujin in the river,
this time whispering,
We are about to turn in for the night and resume our search for you tomorrow.
Wait here until we have dispersed and then go.
Go and find your mother and brothers.
Tell no one of what happened between you and I this night.
Temujin did as he was instructed.
But instead of making straight away for his family's distant encampment,
he first secreted himself down the river and stealthily approached Sorhansgar.
As you might imagine, the aged warrior, who had already risked much for the slave boy,
was not happy to see him again this night.
I told you to seek out your family, and yet you return here. Why have you done this?
But his children, who earlier had themselves taken pity and loosened his shackles for Temujin to sleep,
now helped him again, removing the tang and then throwing it into the Gur fire,
then hiding Temujin in a cart full of sheep wool.
There Temujin would remain for three days, and he was almost discovered.
When their search of the forest and plains turned up impossibly, no sign of their prisoner,
the Taiichiuts decided to conduct a house-to-house search and find their escapee.
Entering Sorhan's tent, they made for the wool cart and began pulling out its contents by the fistful.
They were just about to reach Temujin's foot when Sorhan Shira said,
In such heat, who could bear to hide inside the wall?
The searchers climbed down and departed.
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It was a close brush with catastrophe for everyone involved, and they all knew it.
Sorhan had done everything he could for Temujin, but could do little more. Thus, he gave the boy a mare, a bow, two arrows, a cooked lamb,
and said then basically, get out, seriously, go. After imparting his most sincere of thanks,
Tamajin rode out and indeed would reunite with his mother and family after tracking them to
their new campsite at a place known as the Better Spur. This incident had a tremendous effect on Temujin and his outlook on life,
which is not very surprising.
Surely, most of us would include being enslaved and then escaping miraculously
on the short list of our life resumes.
Surely, this event helped the young man to further develop his own sense of confidence and self-worth.
Sor Khan and his family had,
after all, seen the spark of greatness in him enough to risk their own lives on his behalf.
But even more than that, this reiterated Temujin's long-standing disdain and distrust for the
traditional steppe morality that placed bloodlines and clans above all else. Again from Weatherford, quote, Once again free, and now at 16 or so, considered a grown man,
Tamujin at last sought to make right what had once, however inadvertently, been made wrong.
A lifetime ago, it seemed, he and his father had made a solemn
promise to the aged Daesu-chin that he should become the man's son-in-law and his daughter,
Bortz, husband and caretaker. Now, he hopes, he could at last honor that obligation.
Along with his half-brother, Belgete, who had, in spite of the murder of his elder brother at
Tamajin's own hand, become a faithful and lifelong companion to his half-brother, Belgete, who had, in spite of the murder of his elder brother at Tamagin's own hand, become a faithful and lifelong companion to his half-brothers, set out down the course of the
Harloon River to seek out Dort and her father, to see if she still waited for her one-time suitor.
She had, as had her father, for Desjardin had promised her to no other, even though she,
now seventeen or eighteen, would have been considered almost
too old to prove a suitable bride to anyone. Daesjin had no doubt been well aware of Tamajin's
troubles and long slavery by the Taichu clan, but was still amenable to the match. Thus,
Bort and Toh, as the blushing bride, the three made their way back to the Borjigin campsite.
As a wedding gift, Bort would now present her husband with a rare treasure, a cloak made from the pelts of black sable, the most prized type of fur on the steppe for its warmth, comfort,
and sleek ebony appearance. Tradition would dictate that, in more normal circumstances at least,
Tamajin would have accepted the gift and given it in turn to his own father,
but of course that was for him impossible.
Instead, Tamajin would take his fine black sable cloak and put it to a better use.
He had no father and he had no clan, at least not yet. But he perceived that he might use this gift
to forge one of his own, and on his own terms. A long-time Anda, companion of his father,
and by its very nature therefore either a real or at least fictive distant relative,
was the leader of the Karyid clan, a man named Tuoril, though he is generally referred
to by his later title, Ong Khan. A rather funny title, truth be told, as the name Ong is derived
from the Chinese word for king or prince, Wang. Thus, the title he's best known by is as redundant
as saying Huanghe River or Emperor Wu Huangdi. It literally means
Prince Chief. Regardless, Ong had power, prestige, and could, if he so chose, offer Tamajin and his
family a kind of protection that they had never known before. Ong's cariad was no scattered band
of disunified forest clans like the Mongols, but instead a powerful and organized steppe confederation of multiple tribes under Ong Khan that ruled the central steppes of Mongolia.
The alliance between To'oril and Yesige had been forged in their youth, when Tamajin's father had helped To'oril to overthrow his uncle, the then Gherkhan, and established
himself as the supreme ruler of the Qaryid. It would be the legacy and obligation of this
relationship that Temujin would now appeal to, along with the cloak of Black Sable, of course,
to try to forge a fictive father from one of the most powerful men in Mongolia.
As an interesting and yet important aside, it's notable that Ong Khan
was in fact a practicing Christian of the Nestorian Assyrian church, which had penetrated centuries
earlier into the heart of Central Asia with the gospels pronounced by its itinerant monks and
priests that had wandered ceaselessly along the endless wastes. There they'd wandered,
preaching their own versions of the gospel for any who would listen.
The story of Jesus of Nazareth had become rather fascinating for entire groups of steppe nomads,
because he had, apparently, done what all of them wished that they could do, what any of us wished that we could do. Jesus had healed the sick and even survived death itself. The Mongols
and their close kin, like the Karyids and Naimans to the east, had therefore largely accepted the
Gospels of Jesus and enshrined him in a place of honor as a powerful shaman, capable of channeling
the blessings of the eternal blue sky to those who might follow him. Even so, to think that even the most devout Nestorian monk
would have actually expected the step-writers with whom they spoke their stories would take
their theology, dogma, and rule sets wholesale is ludicrous. Thus, even though Jesus might often
hold a place of honor amongst the tribes who had chosen, perhaps centuries prior,
to acknowledge this curious and powerful shaman from the ancient far west.
There were few indeed who would have set aside completely their own belief in the ultimate divinity of the Taingri,
or their own shamans and seers, or given up the more steppish aspects of their own lifestyle
in favor of the more stringent Christian tenets.
There was one aspect of the Christian faith that did attract the step-riders,
in addition to the obvious power of its God-human figure,
the fact that Christianity encouraged the eating of meat and the drinking of wine.
This had the tendency to help it stand out from the, say, vegetarian
strictures of Buddhism or the teetotaling of Islam. Heck, it wasn't just okay to drink alcohol,
you actually must as a part of the Christian worship rites. I mean, what's not to love, right?
In giving his own wedding gift to Ong, Temin was recognizing the Han as his father, his lord, and his protector.
Traveling to Ong's camp on the Tuulao River, where Mongolia's modern capital Ulaanbaatar now sits,
Tamajin presented himself before the Han at his camp.
Offering up the cloak, Tamajin said,
In earlier days, you and my father agreed to swear brotherhood,
so you are also like a father to me, end quote. Pleased indeed with the offering, Ong replied,
quote, In return for the black sable cloak, I will bring together the people who abandoned you.
In return for this honorable gift, I will unite your scattered people. Let my thoughts be
in the depths of my bowels and in my spine. End quote. And yeah, that last bit does sound a bit
strange in translation, but it's basically just an old-timey manga way of saying,
I mean this wholeheartedly, or I mean this with my whole being. Ong even went so far as to offer Tamajin a place
at his side, as one of his commanders who would lead men. And yet this, Tamajin perhaps not smartly
declined, instead wishing only for the assurances of the Khan's protection over his family as they
continued to live their own lives along the Heralun River.
The ritual completed.
As Tamajin and Belgate returned to their home,
they had actually increased the size of their clan, such as it was.
When tracking down a group of horse thieves,
Tamajin had earned the loyalty of a young man named Boarchu,
who had come to follow him.
And then, once at the camp of Ongkahan, another youth, Jelm,
was entrusted to Tamajin by the boy's father, though for reasons at least I was not able to ascertain.
Thus it was that there were now seven adolescent boys to protect the five women of the camp,
Bort, Huilun, Sochl, Tamalun, and one other
aged woman called Hoak Chin, of unknown origin who had joined them. It might have seemed at the
moment a peaceful, even idyllic, and maybe even sustainable existence, just the dozen of them
living as they pleased on the open steppe,
with the river flowing and the sky overhead.
Unfortunately, it would not last.
Shortly after returning to his family,
Tamajin was roused awake one night by the unmistakable clatter of hoofbeats,
a raiding party.
This time, it was not the Taijiquud clan, but instead, the Merkits,
the clan of Chilidu. Hoilun's first husband of some 18 years prior, come at last to avenge
Yesuke's slight in kind. Though they were of her birth clan, the raiders were not here to reclaim
Hoilun herself. Now considered to be an old woman by Mongol standards and of much lesser value.
No, they had lost one of their prime brides, and a bride they would claim.
As was customary, as soon as the camp realized that a raiding party was incoming,
the men of the camp all mounted their horses and rode off at top speed,
not to engage the attackers, but instead
to flee. One must understand that in clashes such as this, death and murder was not typically the
primary goal, but instead loot and spoils. Whereas women would be taken alive if desirable,
or perhaps even left alone if not, men who were caught were liable to be killed.
Thus, it was the men who must flee, and if there were horses that remained, then the women might
make their escape in turn. Here and now, it so happened that there were only eight horses.
Without hesitation, Tamjin gave the reins of the eighth horse to his mother Huilun,
who also lifted up her young daughter Temulun onto the saddle.
There was no thought of betrayal, no question, no argument.
A son protects his mother.
The end.
And a wife, well, she must suffer what she must.
That was the way of the steppe.
And so, just like Huilun's first husband,
Tamajin was among those who fled to the slopes of Berkhan
Khaldun, leaving his new bride to her uncertain fate. Not all hope was yet lost, however.
From a secret history, quote,
The old woman, Huachin, hid Lady Bort in a black covered cart with a wooden frame.
In the glimmering light of dawn, some soldiers trotted past and then turned
back. Who are you? the soldiers asked. The old woman Hoak Chin said, I am a servant of Temujin.
I am simply returning to my yurt after shearing the sheep.
The soldiers then asked, Is Temujin in his gur? How far is it?
The old woman said,
The gur is not far away. I do not know if Temujin is there.
With that, the soldiers rode off to investigate the young lord's home.
Just as it seemed that Koakchin might have secreted Bort away from danger, the axle of their cart broke.
As they tried to determine whether they should make a run on foot for the nearby woods,
the soldiers returned with Sochigal as their captive.
After all, a widow was better than returning empty-handed.
This time, they took more interest in the ox cart and its contents.
Opening up the back, they immediately discovered Bort crouched within and hauled her out. With the three women now their captives, they then set off to track down the sons
of Yesuge and complete their vengeance. Three times they circled the base of Berhan Khaldun,
but could not pick up Temujin's trail. Quote, Temujin fled this way and that. In the sinking
mud, the thick woods, and the dense forest,
they were like glutted bears, unable to creep in.
Although they followed behind him, they could not find him.
End quote.
Finally, after days of unsuccessful searching,
they conferred amongst themselves that they had searched long enough,
and that the three women, and especially with one so young and beautiful as a particular prize,
that their vengeance had been completed,
and so that they would return to the distant Selenge River
that fed into the icy deep black waters of Lake Baikal,
the oldest and deepest lake in the world.
For days thereafter, Tamajin remained in hiding up on the slopes of Berhan Khaldun,
at a loss for what he should, or even could, do.
Should he accept this bitter fate,
that he must abandon his new bride to the fickle fortunes of the steppe?
Should he perhaps in time simply avail himself of a new bride?
And as Hoilun had once begged of Chilidu,
perhaps even call her by Bort's name?
He would have to become like the raiders he evaded. In that case, he would need to resort to stealing a woman rather than earning
one. What family would give their daughter, after all, to a man who had already lost one?
Would he suicidally charge after his wife and act likely to result in the total extermination of his clan by the
might of the Merkits? Whether it had been stalking his imperious half-brother on the plains and
riddling him with arrows, or striking down his captor with his own kang before jumping into a
river, Tamajin had relied on his cunning, his wits, and his sheer daring to survive up to this point.
Spontaneity, unpredictability, sheer fire.
Such traits had served him well.
But these alone would not serve him now.
To do what he knew in his heart was right, to save his wife, Tamajin would need more than that.
He would need a plan. He would need allies. He would need the blessing of the blue sky above to bring Borth back to him.
Thus, he climbed to the summit of Berkhan Khaldun, the god mountain, part of Mongolia,
where earth and sky literally touched and sank to his knees.
From his waist, he unwound his sash, his very identity as a man,
stripping himself of his strength, his pride, and his ego,
and humbling himself before the almighty power above and around him.
Now removing his hat and appearing bare and powerless before the
infinite, Hamajin kowtowed nine times to heaven, giving his thanks for the help it had already sent
him, and now asking it to continue watching over him as he attempted the impossible.
When at last he came down, he is written to have said, quote,
Because Mother Koa-chin hears like a weasel and sees like an ermine, she saved my life. he came down, he's written to have said, quote, I managed to flee. My only life was spared. With only one horse, I followed the oak trails.
I made a gir of twigs.
I climbed Khaldun.
On Burhan Khaldun, my life was like that of a swallow.
Yet I was protected.
I was greatly afraid.
Every morning, I shall sacrifice to Burhan Khaldun,
and every day I will pray to it.
The seed of my seed shall know this.
Tamajin would need all the help that he could get.
From the great blue sky above, from Burhan Khaldun, from his family, his followers, his sworn brothers, and from many others besides.
Because by the time he descended from the holy mountain, he knew what his plan was.
He would not leave Bort to suffer at the hands of the Merkhids.
He would not submit to the cruel whims of fate.
No, he would take fate, the Merchids, all of Mongolia, and the
entire wide world beyond, and bend it, hammer it, forge it to his unquenchable will, like the man of
iron that he was. Thanks for listening.
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