Chapter 961: 960 A Vow Of Silence

Immediately after her conversation with the Great Khan of the Golden Horde, Khorijin ran off to her tent, where she began packing up her personal items with haste. She had every intent to flee the battlefields in Anatolia now that the spirits had told her the war was a lost cause. Her brother even promised to allow her to make such a decision, and throughout her entire life, she knew Chagadai as a man of his word. 

However, she was given only a single night to pack up her belongings and abscond from the scene. Thus, she was quick at work, making sure everything she could possibly need was strapped to her horse. Just when she was about to set off into the night, a group of the Khan's most veteran warriors approached the Mongol Princess.

At first Khorijin thought that perhaps her brother had made them aware of her decision, and that they had come to see her off. Yet her own naivety was quickly revealed as the men unsheathed their blades and pointed them towards the young turko-mongol princess.

"By orders of the Khan, we are to bring you to the royal tent. Resist, and we will drag you there by force. Princess, do not make this any more difficult than it has to be."

The moment Khorijin heard these words, and gazed upon the five men who encircled her, she knew that her dearest brother had betrayed her, and intended to keep her as a hostage until this war was over. 

With a look of disdain on her face, Khorijin unsheathed her sword, and pointed it towards her adversaries with a fierce glint in her eyes. Her words were far from what the mongol warriors wanted to hear.

"You tell my brother that his betrayal disappoints me, and I will no longer pray for his safety. If you insist on dragging me to that oath-breaker by force, then don't blame me for being hostile!"

The warriors knew not what oath Chagadai had sworn to his sister, but their orders were absolute, even if they did not want to fight the princess who the spirits had favored. Before they could even respond to the Princess's threat, she attacked. 

Khorjin lunged through the air like an acrobat with her saber in hand, and cut towards the lead warrior's throat, instantly slicing his jugular vein and spilling his blood all over herself. The other combatants gazed in astonishment as their captain fell, and his blood stained the Princess' beautiful face. 

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There was no emotion in Khorijin's eyes, nor did she hesitate to attack the next man. The warrior was caught off guard by the speed with which Khorijin swept towards his legs. Because of this, he was quickly knocked off balance, where he tumbled to the floor. The matchlock cavalry carbine, which was slung around the man's shoulder, fell to the ground, where Khorijin was quick to retrieve it. 

The mongol beauty knew she could not fight the remaining four men by herself, however she could intimidate them into letting her flee. As a result, the cunning beauty pulled back the matchlock's hammer, and quickly lit a match which she placed in the crook. Afterwards she aimed the weapon towards the four men who were closing in on her, shifting the barrel onto each of their bodies as a deterrence. 

In truth, she did not know at first whether the weapon was loaded, however in the following moments the man who once wielded it raised to his feet, and dropped his blade with a panicked expression on his face. 

After this, everyone knew that the weapon was indeed loaded, causing the four warriors to back off from their assault. With a murderous appearance on her face, Khorijin cursed the men out while slowly approaching her steed.

"You tell my brother that I will not patiently wait for my death. If he wishes to make me his hostage, he will have to find me himself!"

As Khorijin slowly made her way to her horse, a voice interrupted from behind her, one she was all too familiar with. 

"It would appear I have underestimated you, my precious little sister. You are more fierce than you have let on all these years. It is a good thing I decided to personally oversee your capture. Now, drop the weapon, or I will have my men fire upon you. I would rather you die here in our camp than flee from my reach. The choice is yours!"

Khorijin turned her head around and saw that several dozen Mongol warriors armed with cavalry carbines were pointing their weapons in her direction. She was just about to sigh and embrace her death when the man who had his weapon stolen smacked the princess across the jaw and knocked her out cold. After which, he retrieved his weapon. 

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During her state of unconsciousness, Chagadai ensured that Khorijin was properly bound, and taken to his tent. He also ordered for those present to witness this betrayal to keep their mouths shut. The last thing he needed was rumors of the Golden Horde's great priestess abandoning them in their hour of need. 

Some time passed, and Khorijin awoke within her brother's tent with a severe headache. She gazed upon the lying bastard with a look of intense hatred in her dark eyes. The murderous intent was enough to swallow a lesser man whole, yet Chagadai merely grinned arrogantly as he drank from a bottle of wine that had been plundered from a Byzantine city. 

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"You really thought I would allow you, the princess of our great nation, and our most blessed priestess to escape? How would I face my men if the woman who conveyed the will of the spirits abandoned them? Such a thing is no different from the spirits themselves abandoning our people. 

Since you are my sister by blood, I will keep you alive and well fed. However, you will not be allowed to leave this tent except for ceremonial purposes, and when we ride, you will always be by my side. I am disappointed in you, sister. Not only did you intend to abandon me, but you killed one of my greatest warriors in your vain attempt to escape. 

I do not know what madness has compelled you to do such a thing, but I will never permit you to leave my side. From this day, until the day that constantinople falls, you will be under my protection. Once we have defeated our enemies, then you will help me rule over the Empire that I will have created."

Khorijin merely spat on her brother's face in an act of spite. She was practically growling like a beast when she informed her brother of what the spirits had told her.

"You will not make it to constantinople. The iron eagles watch our every move, and they will rain fire upon our people the moment we approach the city. Your ambitions were doomed to fail from the start. It is only now that I realize this. You and your army will die before you ever step foot into the ancient roman capital. 

As for me, my fate is far more cruel, and you have just prevented my one chance of escaping it. I curse you with every fibre of my being. To think I once thought of you as my most precious family. If you ever loved me as your sister, then you would kill me right now, and spare me the torture of becoming the golden eyed man's plaything!"

Chagadai was shocked to hear this last part, out of every warning his sister had given him over the past year. She had never once mentioned such a thing. A frown emerged on the man's lips as he grabbed hold of his sister's dainty chin and stared into her eyes with rage filled pupils.

"What golden-eyed man? You think I, the Great Khan, would ever allow another man to lay his hands on you, my most precious sister? Bah, do you really have so little faith in me? What iron eagles? There is nothing in the sky above us but the clouds and the stars.

If such mighty beasts existed, don't you think someone would have seen them by now? You have clearly misinterpreted the will of the spirits and are acting on your own delusions. Wake up sister, there are no iron eagles, there is no golden eyed man, there is only victory!" 

Khorijin refused to look in her brother's eyes any longer. She merely sighed and admitted defeat before expressing her thoughts aloud. They were not meant for her brother, but to simply vent her frustrations.

"Fate is truly cruel, isn't it?"

After saying this, Khorijin took a vow of silence. No matter how she was treated in the future, she would not say a word. As if she had gone mute. For the world was no longer worthy of the spirit's wisdom. 

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