LITMIR.BIZ

      Tolui had beaten him again when he found the ponies gone. The young bondsman had been almost comically furious at the sheer nerve of Temujin’s brothers, and one unwary smile from his captive had been enough for him to take out his anger in a fit of frustration. Basan had intervened, but the exhaustion and blows had taken their toll and Temujin lost hours of the dawn as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

      The day was warm and gentle as Tolui burned the gers Temujin and his brothers had built. Ropes of black smoke reached up to the sky behind them and Temujin had glanced back just once to fix it in his mind, to remember one more thing to repay. He stumbled behind his captors as they began their long walk, jerked on with a rope around his wrists.

      At first, Tolui told Basan that they would take new ponies from the wanderers they had come across before. Yet when they reached that place after a hard day, there was nothing waiting for them but a scorched circle of black grass to mark where the ger had once been. Temujin hid his smile that time, but he knew old Horghuz would have spread the word among the wanderer families and taken his own far away from these hard warriors of the Wolves. They may not have been a tribe, but trade and loneliness bound together those who were weak. Temujin knew word of the return of the Wolves would spread fast and far. Eeluk’s decision to come back to the lands around the red hill was like dropping a stone in a pool. All the tribes for a hundred days’ ride would hear and wonder if the Wolves would be a threat or an ally. Those like old Horghuz who scraped by without the protection of the great families would be even more wary of the ripples and new order. Small dogs slunk away when Wolves roamed.

      For the first time, Temujin saw the world from the other side. He might have hated the tribes for the way they strode on the plains, but instead, he dreamed that his tread would one day send other men running. He was his father’s son and it was hard to see himself as one of the tribeless wanderers. Wherever Temujin was, the rightful line of Wolves continued in him. To give that up would have been to dishonour his father and their own struggle for survival. Through all of it, Temujin had known one simple truth. One day, he would be khan.

      With nothing more than a little river water to ease his thirst and no hope of rescue, he could almost chuckle at the idea. First he had to escape the fate Tolui and Eeluk intended for him. He daydreamed as he trotted on his length of rope. He had considered coming forward and dropping a loop around Tolui’s throat, but the powerful young man was always aware of him, and even if the right moment came, Temujin doubted he had the strength to crush the bondsman’s massive neck.

      Tolui was uncharacteristically silent on the march. It had occurred to him that he was returning with only one of the khan’s children and not even the eldest, that the valuable ponies had been stolen and that Unegen lay dead behind him. If it had not been for their single captive, the raid would have been a complete disaster. Tolui watched the prisoner constantly, worried he would somehow vanish and leave him with nothing but his shame to bring back. When night came, Tolui found himself jerking from restless sleep to check the ropes at regular intervals. Whenever he did, he found Temujin awake and watching him with hidden amusement. He too had considered their return and was pleased that his younger brothers had at least denied Tolui the chance to strut new honours in front of Eeluk. To come in on foot would be a great humiliation for the proud bondsman, and if he hadn’t been so battered and miserable, Temujin might have enjoyed Tolui’s sullen withdrawal.

      Without supplies from the saddle pouches, they were all growing weak. On the second day, Basan stayed to guard Temujin while Tolui took his bow and headed up to a tree line on a high ridge. It was the chance for which Temujin had been waiting and Basan saw his eagerness before he could even open his mouth.

      ‘I will not let you go, Temujin, no. You cannot ask me,’ he said.

      Temujin’s chest deflated as if the hope had been let out of him with his breath. ‘You did not tell him where I was hiding,’ Temujin muttered.

      Basan flushed and looked away. ‘I should have done. I gave you one chance, out of honour for your father’s memory, and Tolui found you anyway. If it hadn’t been dark he might have realised what I had done.’

      ‘Not him. He is an idiot,’ Temujin said.

      Basan smiled. Tolui was a rising young man in the gers of the Wolves and his temper was becoming legendary. It had been a long time since he had heard anyone dare to insult him aloud, even when he wasn’t in hearing. Seeing Temujin stand strong before him was a reminder that there was a world outside the Wolves. When he spoke again, it was with bitterness.

      ‘They say the Wolves are strong, Temujin … and we are, in men like Tolui. Eeluk has raised new faces as his bondsmen, men of no honour. He makes us kneel to him and if someone makes him laugh or has brought back a deer, say, or raided a family, Eeluk throws a skin of black airag at him like a dog who has done well.’ As he spoke, he stared up at the hills, remembering a different time.

      ‘Your father never made us kneel,’ he said softly. ‘When he was alive I would have given my life for him without thinking, but he never made me feel less than a man.’

      It was a long speech from the taciturn tribesman and Temujin listened, knowing the importance of having Basan as an ally. He had no other in the Wolves, not any longer. He could have asked for help again, but Basan had not spoken lightly. His sense of honour meant he could not let Temujin run now that they had caught him. Temujin accepted it, though the open plains called to him and he ached to get away from whatever ugly death Eeluk intended. He knew better than to expect mercy a second time, now that Eeluk was secure in his position. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully,

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