LITMIR.BIZ

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rush after them and blew a falling note to slow the charge. They walked over the dead towards the Tartar gers. Those who had run numbered less than two hundred, all who remained alive. Temujin did not fear them now. To his irritation, he saw Eeluk’s men were lost in the killing and had not heeded his call. For an instant, he considered letting them face the men at the gers alone, but he could not stand to see Eeluk slaughtered so easily. The Tartars would have bows there and shafts. Whoever faced them would have to come through a withering storm. Perhaps Eeluk had been right not to delay. Temujin set his jaw and blew a single blast for the advance. He rode over the breaking bones of the dead to lead them.

      A ragged volley of arrows came from the gers. Some fell short as the women took up bows, but others had enough force to steal lives from men even as they rejoiced in their victory. Temujin heard his army pant as they ran and kicked their mounts on. They would not be stopped and the arrows whipped through them uselessly, making men stagger as they hit the iron plates of their armour. Temujin leaned into the wind as the gap closed, ready to finish what they had begun.

      When it was over, the last stand of the Tartars could be read by the way the dead sprawled in clusters. They had held a line for a time before Khasar’s horsemen had crashed through them. Temujin looked around as the three tribes searched for loot on the carts, for once acting with a single mind. They had fought and won together and he thought it would be hard to go back to their old distrust, at least of men they knew.

      Wearily, Temujin dismounted and grimaced as he pulled at the ties that held his chest piece. A dozen of the iron plates had been torn away and many that remained were buckled. Three broken shafts stood out from the layers. Two of them hung limply down, but the third stood straight and that was the one he wanted out of him. He found he could not pull the armoured cloth clear. As he tried, something wrenched in his muscles, causing a wave of dizziness.

      ‘Let me help you,’ Temuge said, at his shoulder.

      Temujin glanced at his youngest brother and waved to be left alone. He did not feel like speaking and, as the battle fever passed, his body was revealing all the knocks and aches he had taken. As he stood there, he wanted nothing more than to cast off the heavy armour and sit down, but he could not even do that.

      Temuge came closer and Temujin ignored him as his fingers probed the broken plate and the shaft sticking in him, rising and falling with his breath.

      ‘It cannot be deep,’ Temuge murmured. ‘If you can stay still, I’ll get it out of you.’

      ‘Do it then,’ Temujin replied, past caring. He ground his teeth as Temuge sawed through the shaft with his knife, then reached under the armoured cloth to grip the other side. With a slow pull, he removed the chest protector and let it fall as he examined the wound. The silk had not torn, but it had been carried deep into Temujin’s pectoral muscle. Blood seeped from around the tip, but Temuge looked pleased.

      ‘A little further and you would be dead. I can get this out, I think.’

      ‘You’ve seen this done?’ Temujin said, looking down at him. ‘You have to twist the arrow as it comes.’

      To his surprise, Temuge grinned. ‘I know. The silk has trapped it. Just stand still.’

      Taking a deep breath, Temuge took a grip on the slippery wooden shaft, digging his nails into the wood to give him purchase. Temujin grunted in pain as the arrowhead tightened in him. His chest shuddered involuntarily, like a horse shrugging off flies.

      ‘The other way,’ he said.

      Temuge coloured. ‘I have it now,’ he replied and Temujin felt the twitching muscle relax as the arrow turned in his flesh. It had been spinning as it hit him. With Temuge’s deft fingers twisting it the other way, it came out easily, followed by a dribble of clotted blood.

      ‘Keep something pressed against it for a while,’ Temuge said. His voice was quietly triumphant and Temujin nodded to him, clapping him on the shoulder.

      ‘You have a steady hand,’ he said.

      Temuge shrugged. ‘It wasn’t in me. If it had been, I would have cried like a child.’

      ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Temujin said. He reached out and gripped his brother behind the neck before turning away. Without warning, his expression changed so rapidly that Temuge spun to see what he had seen.

      Eeluk was standing on top of one of the Tartar carts, holding a skin of airag in one hand and a bloody sword in the other. Even from a distance, he looked vital and dangerous. The sight of him brought life back to Temujin’s limbs, banishing his exhaustion. Temuge watched as Eeluk shouted something to his Wolves.

      ‘I don’t remember him,’ Temuge murmured as they stared across the bloody grass. ‘I try to, but it was a long time ago.’

      ‘Not to me,’ Temujin snapped. ‘I see his face whenever I sleep.’ He drew his sword slowly and Temuge turned to him, frightened at what he saw in his brother’s face. They could hear the men laugh around the carts and some of them cheered Eeluk as he shouted down to them.

      ‘You should wait until you have rested,’ Temuge said. ‘The wound was shallow, but it will have weakened you.’

      ‘No. This is the time,’ Temujin replied, walking forward.

      Temuge almost went with him, but he saw Kachiun and Khasar exchange glances and move to join their brother. Temuge did not want to see another death. He could not bear the thought that Temujin would be killed, and fear churned his stomach and made him light-headed. If Eeluk fought and won, everything they had achieved would be lost. Temuge watched Temujin walk steadily away and suddenly he knew he had to be there. They were the sons of Yesugei and it was time. He took one faltering step, and then he was hurrying after his brother.

      Eeluk was roaring with laughter at something someone had called to him. It had been a glorious victory against the Tartar invader. He had fought with courage and the men had followed where he led them, right into the heart of the battle. He was not flattering himself when he accepted their cheering. He had played his part and more, and now the riches of the Tartars waited to be enjoyed. The women under the carts would be part of the celebration and he would take many new girls back to the Wolves to bear sons for his bondsmen. The tribe would grow and word would spread that the Wolves had been part of it. He was intoxicated by the pleasures of life as he stood there, letting the wind dry his sweat. Tolui was wrestling with a couple of the Wolf bondsmen, laughing as they tried to throw him. All three of them collapsed in a heap and Eeluk chuckled, feeling his skin tighten as dried blood cracked. He laid down his sword and rubbed both of his heavy hands over his face, scouring away the dried muck of battle. When he looked up, he saw Temujin and his brothers coming for him.

      Eeluk grimaced before he bent and picked up his sword once again. The cart was high, but he leapt to the ground rather than clamber down with his back to them. He landed well and faced the sons of Yesugei with a smile twitching at his mouth. He and Temujin were the only khans to witness their victory. Though the Kerait had fought well, their fat leader was safe in his gers five miles to the south. Eeluk took a deep breath and steadied himself as he looked around. His Wolves had seen him jump down and they were drifting in, drawn to their khan. The Olkhun’ut too had broken off their looting with the Kerait and came in pairs and threes to stand close and watch what was to come. Word of the bad blood between their leaders had spread and they did not want to miss the fight. The women under the carts wailed unheeded as the warriors walked over the grass to where Eeluk and Temujin stood in silence.

      ‘It was a great victory,’ Eeluk said, looking around at the gathering men. A hundred of his Wolves had survived the battle and they were no longer smiling as they saw the threat. Yet they were vastly outnumbered and Eeluk knew it could only be settled between the two men who had brought them to that place.

      ‘This is an old debt,’ Eeluk shouted to them. ‘Let there be no reprisals.’ His eyes were bright as he looked at Temujin standing before him. ‘I did not ask for blood between us, but I am khan of the Wolves and I am not unwilling.’

      ‘I claim my father’s people,’ Temujin said, his gaze passing over the ranks

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