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“We Mongolians are valiant warriors,” Temujin continued, “why should we not go and take the treasures of the Jin? Why should we furnish tributes to them every year? Amongst the Mongolians, there are some that work hard to husband the herds, and then there are lazy ones. Why should those that work tire themselves nourishing those that do nothing? Why should those that sweat not have more cattle and sheep? Why do they not leave the lazy ones to die of hunger?”
At that time, the Mongolians lived according to a type of tribal socialism. Their principal wealth, cattle and sheep, belonged to all. During the last few years, the flocks had increased in size. The tribes had learned from the Chinese to work iron for the manufacture of tools and weapons. Most of the animal herders wished to keep the wealth that they produced for themselves; just as the warriors that, at the risk of their lives, won battles and did not want to divide prisoners and loot with those that did not go to war. These matters went straight to the hearts of all the soldiers.
Seeing that Temujin was beginning to influence his men, Senggum cried, “Lay down your weapons at once and surrender! Otherwise, it will take but a signal from my whip to rain down ten thousand arrows! You have no chance of escape!”
Guo Jing saw that the situation had become critical, but did not know what to do. Then he saw, at the foot of the hill, a young officer, his armor covered by a coat of grey fur, with a saber in his hand, proudly parading back and forth on his war horse. It was Dukhsh, the son of Senggum, with whom he had fought in his childhood. He was the villainous rascal that had wanted to unleash leopards on Tolui. Guo Jing did not really understand why this was happening, and especially why Ong Khan, Senggum and Jamuka wanted to plot against Temujin. “The Khan and Ong Khan have always lived in harmony,” he said to himself, “it must mean that Dukhsh, at the instigation of the Sixth Jin 174
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Prince, has spread misleading and malicious lies. If I capture him and force him to admit his lies, then everyone will be able to reconcile!” Spurring his small red horse, he descended the hill and, taking advantage of the surprise, forced his way to Dukhsh.
Attacking with his blade, Guo Jing leaned out of his saddle, the blade held above his head, and with his right hand he trapped the principal artery on Dukhsh’s wrist. It was a movement of the famed technique ‘Disconnect the Muscles and Separate the Bones’ perfected by Zhu Cong and Dukhsh could not withstand it. With a pull, Guo Jing snatched him out of his saddle. He heard the hissing of heavy projectiles from his left, about to fall upon him. He pressed lightly with his knees; the small red horse obeyed immediately and flew like an arrow towards the hill.
Senggum’s soldiers called, “Fire arrows!” Guo Jing placed Dukhsh behind him, using his body as a shield, so well that the enemy did not dare to fire.
Arriving at the summit of the hill, Guo Jing threw Dukhsh to the ground laughing, “Great Khan, this rascal is surely the person responsible for this treachery! Let us make him acknowledge it!”
Temujin, very happy, pointed his lance at Dukhsh’s chest and shouted in the direction of Senggum,
“Move your men back two hundred zhangs!” [1 zhang = 3.3 meters / 11+ft]
Senggum, upset and worried to see his well armed son fall into the hands of the enemy, could do nothing but back up his army. He ordered them to encircle the hill with ordered ranks of wagons, so that Temujin’s horsemen would be unable to sally out.
On the hill, Temujin praised Guo Jing warmly, and ordered him to tie the prisoner's hands behind his back.
Three times Senggum sent a messenger to negotiate. If Temujin released Dukhsh and left, his life would be spared. Each time, the Khan cut the ears off the messenger before he returned them to their master.
The sun moved towards the horizon. Fearing that Senggum would use the dusk to attack, Temujin ordered that everyone should double their vigilance.
Towards midnight, a man clothed in white approached the foot of the hill. “I am Jamuka,” he called out. “I wish to see my sworn brother Temujin.”
“You may come up!” the Khan said.
Jamuka ascended slowly and saw Temujin standing at the top of the slope. He advanced and made as if to embrace him, but the Khan, not letting his guard down, said roughly, “You still consider me a brother?”
Jamuka sighed and seated himself cross-legged. “Brother,” he said, “You are already the chief of a tribe, why do you have this ambition to unify all of the Mongols?”
“What do you believe?” Temujin replied.
“The chieftains of the tribes say: ‘our ancestors lived this way for hundreds of years, why does Temujin want to change tradition? Heaven will not allow it’!”
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“Do you remember the history of our ancestor Lady Alan Qo’a?” Temujin said. “She had five sons that lived in discord. She asked all of them to come and eat with her. Then she gave an arrow to each and asked them to break it. This they did very easily. Next, she tied five arrows together, and asked again that they break them. Each tried in turn, but none were able to break the five arrows. Do you recall what she said to them then?”
“If you are not united,” Jamuka said in a low voice, “you can be broken by those of no importance, just like a single arrow. If you unite, you will be as solid as the five arrows and no person will break you.”
“So,” Temujin said, “you remember that. What happened next?”
“The five sons united their efforts and conquered an immense territory. They are the ancestors of our Mongol tribes.”
“Exactly! Both of us are brave and heroic; why not unite all of the Mongolians? If we do not quarrel amongst ourselves, we will be strong enough to destroy the Jin Empire!”
“But how?” Jamuka asked, “The Jin Empire is powerful and its armies and wealth are immeasurable; how can we Mongolians defeat them?”
“Then you prefer to remain submissive to the Jin?”
“The Jin Empire does not oppress us,” Jamuka protested. “The emperor has even made you a
‘Northern Ambassador’!”
“At first,” Temujin said honestly, “I also believed that they had good intentions. But the greed of the Jin has no limits, and they demand more from us each time. First they want cattle, next horses, and now they ask that we send soldiers to help them make war. The country of the Song is far removed from our lands! Even if the Song dynasty falls, all the lands conquered will belong to Jin alone. We will lose warriors, to win what? Since when would our cattle stop eating the green grass of our plains to go eat the sand on the other side of the mountains? If we must battle, it should be against the Jin Empire only!”
“Ong Khan and Senggum do not want to betray the Jin.” Jamuka said.
“To betray?” Temujin mocked. “Betray? And you?”
“I beseech you, brother, do not let your anger get the better of you; release Dukhsh, and Senggum and I will guarantee to let you leave safely.”
“I have no confidence in Senggum; now I have no confidence in you!”
“Hear the words of Senggum,” Jamuka said. “If a son dies, other sons will be born. If Temujin dies, there will never be another Temujin! If you do not release Dukhsh, you will not see another sunrise!”
Temujin knew well the characters of Senggum and Jamuka. If left in their hands, he knew that he would have no chance of survival. If Ong Khan was there, he might possibly live. He brandished his saber and whirled around.
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“I would rather die in battle,” he cried, “than to surrender! Under heaven, there is a Temujin who will die on the field of honour and no Temujin that flees!”
Jamuka said, “You give all of the loot to the warriors, saying that it belongs to them and not to the whole tribe. The chieftains of the tribes say that you do wrong; that you run counter to our traditions.”
“But the young warriors are delighted!” Temujin said harshly. “The chieftains pretend that the treasures of war cannot be distributed equitably to each warrior, so they keep it all for themselves.
Such practices insult the warriors who risked their lives to support them. When we are at war, do we need stupid and greedy chieftains, or do we need young courageous warriors?”
“Brother,” Jamuka said, “You’ve always acted on your own and never listened to the leaders of the other tribes. Don't call me ungrateful or traitor. These past days, you’ve been sending people to convince my soldiers to join your army by telling them that, once back home, the resources gained in battle belong to the ones that fought for them. They won't be distributed amongst all the tribe's members. Did you think that I didn't know of it?”
"If you are aware of it,” Temujin thought, “then we won't ever live in peace with each other.” He then took a small bag out of his clothing and threw it at the feet of Jamuka. “Here are the gifts that you offered me when we swore, three times, loyalty to each other. Take them. Later, when you cut off my head with your saber, you will only kill an enemy and not a sworn brother. I am a hero, you are also a hero. The plains of Mongolia are vast, but it cannot contain two heroes.”
Jamuka picked up the bag. He then took a small leather bag from his own clothing, dropped it at Temujin’s feet in silence, and moved down the hill.