Rogue Angel - The Spirit Banner Part 47

Much to her surprise, he replied in kind.

"Well, then, we will talk in the language of your fathers instead of mine. Please, sit." He indicated the pile of cushions arranged on the opposite side of the table from where he stood.

Seeing no reason why she shouldn't, Annja did.

Once she was seated, he followed suit.

They studied each other for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything.

He was one of those people whose age she had a hard time determining; he could have been forty just as easily as seventy. He looked fit and healthy, though his skin had that leathery look common to those who spend so much time in the wind and sun. His face was creased with age lines but there was a light in his eyes that suggested a personality that had yet to be weighted down by the demands of the world. His hair had probably once been dark, but now it was gray-white and worn long, as was the thin mustache that drooped down either side of his lips.

Yet he felt far older than he looked. That was the only way Annja could describe it to herself. He had an air of age about him, a sense that he had seen it all and heard it all, that he had been around since the world was young. She felt the way she had on her first dig, when ruins that hadn't seen the light of day for thousands of years had been unearthed. Just being in the same room with him made her feel that same air of wonder and awe.

It was a strange reaction to have to an individual and it made her uncomfortable.

She kept looking at him, trying to put her finger on what caused her to feel that way but with no luck.

He watched her watching him and smiled in response. She was reminded of a hawk, the keen eyes missing nothing.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked.

"No, thank you."

"Perhaps some airag airag instead?" instead?"

She'd heard of the drink made from fermented camel's milk and decided that having anything alcoholic at this point was not a good idea. Politely, she declined, but did accept a gla.s.s of water.

"You fought well. Like a true Mongol. Your clan must value you highly."

For a moment the comment stung. Having been raised in a Catholic orphanage in New Orleans, Annja didn't have a clan to be proud of her. The Wolf had no way of knowing that, however, and so she knew it was not meant as an insult.

"Thank you," she said.

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then smiled at her. "Tell me. Do you know how the camel lost his tail and his antlers?"

The question caught her off guard. She'd been expecting questions about why she was here or what her expedition had hoped to find, and instead she's asked about a camel's antlers?

"Camels don't have antlers," she said, before her brain caught up with her mouth.

"Not after losing them, they don't. But do you know how they lost them?"

Annja shook her head.

"It's quite an interesting tale. You see, long ago the camel had a magnificent pair of antlers, as well as a lush, gorgeous tail. The camel was known as a generous animal and sometimes others took advantage of him."

Temujin paused to refill his cup of airag airag from the cloth bag hanging nearby. from the cloth bag hanging nearby.

"You wouldn't know it to look at them today, but the deer was born with a bald head and the horse had only a thin, raggedy tail. One day at the watering hole, the deer asked to borrow the camel's antlers for the day, claiming he was going to a big celebration that night and didn't want to be ashamed of his bald head."

Annja was sure there was a lesson in this story, just as there is in most folktales, but at the moment she didn't have a clue where he was going with it.

"Being the kind soul that he was, the camel said yes, on the condition that the deer return them the next day. As the deer went on his way, holding his head up high to show off the new set of antlers he had gained, he ran into the horse and explained what had happened.

"The horse decided this would be an excellent time to get something for himself, so he, too, went to see the camel and asked to borrow his tail, using the same story as the deer.

"The next morning the camel returned to the watering hole, expecting to get back his antlers and his tail, but neither the deer nor the horse ever showed up. To this day, whenever the camel takes a drink, he will look out over the steppes, hoping to catch sight of the deer and the horse, but he never does."

Temujin watched her face for a moment and then asked, "A sad story, is it not?"

"Only for the camel," Annja replied.

"What lesson do you think the camel learned?"

He asked the question casually, but Annja's instincts were suddenly on high alert. There was a message here, one she would do well to understand.

"The camel learned that being too generous is not always a good thing." She watched his eyes for a reaction, but he gave nothing away.

"So which animal are you? The camel, the deer or the horse?"

There it was. The trap she'd been expecting. If she claimed to be either the deer or the horse, she would have a problem, because stealing was against the Mongol code. While neither she nor Davenport had been in possession of the Great Yasa or the Khan's suldes suldes when they were captured, the Wolf's men had probably informed him that the artifacts had been removed from their prior locations. In effect, they had been stolen, just like the camel's antlers and tail. when they were captured, the Wolf's men had probably informed him that the artifacts had been removed from their prior locations. In effect, they had been stolen, just like the camel's antlers and tail.

Claiming to be the camel wouldn't help her, either, because he had been too generous and had been taken advantage of; she did not want to make herself look like a fool for saving Holuin's life, despite the fact that she knew it was the right thing to do.

She pondered the problem for several long moments, searching desperately for an answer that wouldn't get her in worse trouble than she was already in.

It wasn't until she sensed that he was getting impatient that she figured it out.

Taking a deep breath, knowing her life could quite possibly hinge on her saying the right thing in the next few moments, she replied, "I'm neither the camel, the deer, nor the horse. I am the Wolf, who rules the steppes and who, in his wisdom, spares the lives of the other animals at the watering hole."

Silence filled the ger ger.

Temujin stared at her, expressionless.

Then he giggled.

The giggle turned into a laugh, which, in turn, became a full-fledged cackle. He laughed so hard that he fell over backward, spilling his airag airag all over the floor. all over the floor.

Annja didn't know what to do. She hadn't meant her answer to be funny, never mind hysterically so.

She decided the best course of action was to wait for him to get himself together again, which he eventually did, wiping the tears from his eyes as he sat up again.

"The Wolf indeed!" he cried, which almost resulted in another laughing fit, but he managed to control himself in time. "A most excellent answer, Annja Creed."

The realization that he knew exactly who she was did not sit well with her. How had he found out? What else did he know?

Somehow, she knew the answers to those questions would not be forthcoming.

Once he had calmed down, the Wolf turned serious again.