Gansukh looked at Lian. The bench wasn’t very wide, and he could smell her fragrance, an aroma muskier than the scent of the flowers surrounding them. She was uncomfortably close.
“We gain our general’s respect by winning battles,” he said after taking a deep breath. “We do not concern ourselves by trying to embarrass the other captains. We do not have time for such games, and if we engage in them, we are not concentrating on keeping our men alive. If other captains fail in battle, they do so on their own. That is embarrassment enough.”
Lian clapped her hands lightly. “Yes. Do you see the difference now?” When Gansukh shook his head, she continued, momentarily forgetting her resistance to providing him the answer. “Your general gives you orders and treats you with respect because he knows that you are a capable man, that you will carry out his orders well and, in doing so, enable him to win the battle. He would not give you those orders otherwise.”
She let her hand fall on his forearm. “But here at court, there are no orders to follow, no battle to win for the honor of the Khagan. So how does he know whether you are a worthy commander?”
Gansukh sat very still, as if her hand were a bird he didn’t want to scare away. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “I would have to tell him,” he said.
“In some ways, the battlefield is more civilized than court,” Lian said, somewhat wistfully. “A man’s worth is exactly how much glory his actions bring to his general.” Her tone hardened. “Here, a man’s worth is calculated by what he says and by what others say about him.”
Lian removed her hand, placing it in her lap. She directed her attention at the still surface of the pond. “You may have already made enemies, Gansukh,” she said softly, a note of caution in her voice.
Gansukh grunted, acknowledging the truth in her statement.
An expression flickered across Lian’s face, a tightening of her mouth and eyes. She hid it well, and if he’d been looking at her face, he wouldn’t have seen it. “Oh?” she said. “Who?”
She already knows, he thought. “Munokhoi,” he said, and he knew he was right when she didn’t react to the name. He waited for her to turn her head; he wanted to see what her eyes would tell him. Like you are hunting a deer, he thought. Patience will be rewarded. He recalled the way she had looked over her shoulder at him that night in the bath. Knowing he was watching her, making eye contact one last time as she left. She’ll look. I can wait her out.
She did, sooner than he thought she would, and she blinked when she saw the smile on his face. She looked away quickly, but not before he caught a flash of unguarded emotion in her eyes.
“He is threatened by you?” Lian asked, her eyes focused on the pond, as if she were trying to see beneath its placid surface.
Gansukh didn’t see any reason to answer the question, not when she already knew the answer. Not this time.
Lian pushed back her shoulders, collecting herself. “How are you going to deal with him?” she asked, her challenging tone returning, pushing him.
“I’ve been avoiding him,” said Gansukh. “No reason to provoke the man.”
“No.” Lian stood and looked down on him disapprovingly. “That is the worst thing to do.”
Gansukh reacted as if she had slapped him. “Enough,” he barked. “You will not speak to me like that.”
It was Lian’s turn to react, and she sat down quickly, her shoulder brushing his upper arm. She crossed her arms again, hiding her hands in her sleeves, but the motion was submissive this time instead of domineering. “I…I’m sorry,” she said. “I have…I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
“Why were you?” The question came more harshly than he had intended.
“Gansukh, Munokhoi has the Khagan’s ear, and not just because he commands a jaghun of the Torguud. He has become a respected companion. If you avoid the Khagan when Munokhoi is with him, you’ll be giving Munokhoi too many chances to criticize you when you cannot speak for yourself.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Gansukh asked, and he smiled at her confusion. “I thought I could only remember the lessons if I figured it out for myself. Are you afraid for me?”
Lian snorted and shook her head. She plucked at the loose strand of her hair and made to tuck it back into place. “I’m serious,” she said. “You should not treat Munokhoi lightly.”
“I never said I was.”
“You said you were avoiding him.”
“I did, but that’s not the same as not considering him as an enemy.”
“Oh, you are…” Lian stood as if to leave, her shoulder roughly brushing him as she got to her feet. “You will find yourself outside the gates soon enough, horse rider, as that seems to be your preference.”
“Wait.” Gansukh stood and laid a gentle hand on her elbow before she could storm off. “Wait, I’m…I’m sorry. I understand what you are trying to tell me—I do—and I appreciate your concern.”
Lian hesitated, though the cant of her body said she was still leaving.