LITMIR.BIZ

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us,’ Temujin said, murmuring. ‘I wonder how many times the Chin have sent their men into my lands, betraying my people. I wonder what promises they made.’

      The world that had seemed so solid that morning was crumbling all around him. It was too much to take in and Temujin found himself breathing hard, almost dizzy with the revelations.

      ‘They would not want us to grow strong, would they, Yuan? They would want the Tartars and Mongols to tear each other to pieces. Is that not what Wen Chao said to me? That the Tartars had grown too strong, too close to their precious borders?’

      Temujin closed his eyes, imagining the cold gaze of the Chin as they considered the tribes. For all he knew, they had been subtly influencing the tribes for centuries, keeping them at each other’s throats.

      ‘How many of my people have died because of yours, Yuan?’ he said.

      ‘I have told you all I know,’ Yuan said, raising his head. ‘If you will not believe me, then take my life, or send me back to Wen Chao.’ His face hardened as he continued. ‘Or put a sword in my hand and let me defend myself against these accusations.’

      It was Arslan who spoke, his face pale at what he had heard.

      ‘Let me, my lord,’ he said to Temujin, never taking his eyes from Yuan. ‘Give him a sword and I will face him.’

      Yuan turned to look at the swordsmith, his mouth turning upwards at the edges. Without speaking, he bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the offer.

      ‘I have heard too much. Bind him until dawn and I will decide then,’ Temujin said. He watched as Kachiun tied Yuan’s hands expertly. He did not resist, or struggle, even when Kachiun kicked him onto his side. He lay by the body of the Tartar he had killed, his face calm.

      ‘Post a guard on him while we eat,’ Temujin ordered, shaking his head. ‘I need to think.’

      At the first light of dawn, Temujin paced up and down outside the cluster of small gers, his face troubled. He had not slept. The scouts he had sent away with Khasar had not yet returned and his thoughts still writhed without answers. He had spent years of his life punishing the Tartars for what they had done, for the life of his father and the lives his sons should have led. If Yesugei had survived, Bekter or Temujin would have become khan to the Wolves and Eeluk would have remained a loyal bondsman. There was a trail of death and pain between the day he had been told and the current one that found him troubled and depressed, his life torn into tatters. What had he accomplished in those years? He thought of Bekter and, for a moment, wished he were alive. The path could have been very different if Yesugei had not been killed.

      As Temujin stood alone, he felt fresh anger kindle in his chest. The khan of the Olkhun’ut deserved some measure of the misery he had caused. Temujin remembered the revelation he had experienced as a captive of the Wolves. There was no justice in the world – unless he made it for himself. Unless he cut twice as deep as he had been cut and gave back blow for blow. He had the right.

      In the dim distance, he saw two of his scouts racing back towards the gers. Temujin frowned at their headlong pace, feeling his heart thump faster. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed and he sensed the camp come alive around him as men pulled on deels and armour, saddling their horses with quick efficiency. He was proud of them all and he wondered again what to do about Yuan. He could not trust him any longer, but Temujin had conceived a liking for the man ever since he had fired an arrow at his chest in the camp of the Kerait. He did not want to kill him.

      As the scouts came closer, he saw that Khasar was one of them, riding like a maniac. His horse was blowing and lathered in sweat and Temujin felt the alarm spread through the men who waited for news. Khasar was not one to panic easily, but he rode without thought for his own safety or that of his mount.

      Temujin forced himself to remain still while Khasar rode up and jumped to the ground. The men had to see him as different, untouched by their own fears.

      ‘What is it, my brother, to have made you ride so fast?’ Temujin asked, keeping his voice steady.

      ‘More Tartars than I have ever seen,’ Khasar replied, panting. ‘An army to make these ones we killed look like a raiding band.’ He paused for breath. ‘You said they might come in force in the spring, and they have.’

      ‘How many?’ Temujin snapped.

      ‘More than I could count, a day’s ride at most, probably closer by now. The ones we have killed are just the trail-breakers. There are hundreds of carts coming, horses. Maybe a thousand men. I’ve never seen anything like it, brother, never.’

      Temujin grimaced. ‘I have news of my own that you will not want to hear. It will wait for this. Water your horse before it drops dead. Have the men mount up and find a fresh pony yourself. I will want to see this army that can frighten my little brother.’

      Khasar snorted. ‘I didn’t say they frightened me, but I thought you might like to know the entire Tartar nation is coming south for your head. That’s all.’ He grinned at the idea. ‘By the spirits, Temujin. We stung them and stung them and now they are roaring.’ He looked around at the men who watched, listening to every word. ‘What are we going to do now?’

      ‘Wait, Khasar. There is something I must do first,’ Temujin said. He strode to the ger where Yuan had spent the night, vanishing inside. Arslan and Kachiun went after him and the three men escorted Yuan out into the grey light, rubbing his wrists. His ropes had been cut and Khasar could only stand in amazement, wondering what had happened in his absence.

      Temujin faced the Chin soldier.

      ‘I have come to think of you as a friend, Yuan. I cannot kill you today,’ he said. As Yuan stood in silence, Temujin brought a saddled pony to him and passed the reins into his hands.

      ‘Return to your master,’ Temujin said.

      Yuan mounted easily. He looked down at Temujin for a long moment.

      ‘I wish you good fortune, my lord,’ Yuan said at last.

      Temujin slapped his hand on the pony’s rump and Yuan went trotting away without looking back.

      Khasar came up to his brothers, his gaze following theirs after the retreating soldier.

      ‘I imagine this means I have the left wing,’ he said.

      Temujin chuckled. ‘Find a fresh horse, Khasar, and you too, Kachiun. I want to see what you saw.’ He looked round to find Jelme already mounted and ready to go.

      ‘Take the men back to the Kerait and tell them an army is gathered. Togrul will have to fight or run, as he pleases.’

      ‘What about us?’ Khasar said, bewildered. ‘We need more than sixty warriors. We need more men than the Kerait can put in the field.’

      Temujin turned his face to the south, bitter with memories.

      ‘When I have seen this invading army with my own eyes, we will come back to the lands around the red hill,’ he said. ‘I will find the men we need, but we have another enemy we must face first.’ He looked so grim that even Khasar did not speak and Temujin spoke so quietly they barely heard him.

      ‘My brothers and I have a debt to settle with the Olkhun’ut, Arslan. We could all be killed. You do not have to come with us.’

      Arslan shook his head. He did not look at Jelme, though he felt his son’s eyes on him.

      ‘You are my khan,’ he replied.

      ‘Is it enough?’ Temujin said.

      Arslan nodded slowly.

      ‘It is everything.’

      CHAPTER THIRTY

      Temujin stood with his arms outstretched as the bondsmen of the Olkhun’ut

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