Conqueror: The Complete 5-Book Collection. Conn Iggulden
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wishing he had taken a better look.
‘Is she the one?’ he said aloud. No one answered him.
The horses of the Olkhun’ut were out on the ragged edge of the tribe, whinnying and tossing their heads in the excitement of spring. The last of the gers sat on a piece of dusty ground by the corrals, baked and bare of any ornament. Even the door was unpainted wood, suggesting the owners owned nothing more than their lives and their place in the tribe. Temujin sighed at the thought of spending his year with such a poor family. He had hoped at least to be given a bow for hunting. From the look of the ger, his wife’s family would be hard-pressed even to feed him.
Yesugei’s face was blank, and Temujin tried hard to copy it in front of Enq. He had already resolved not to like the thin uncle who had given them such a reluctant welcome. It was not difficult.
The father of the girl came out to meet them, smiling and bowing. His clothes were black with old grease and dirt, layer upon layer that Temujin suspected would remain on his skin regardless of season. He showed a toothless mouth when he smiled and Temujin watched as he scratched at a dark spot in his hair, flicking some nameless parasite away with his fingers. It was hard not to be revolted after the clean ger his mother had kept all his life. The smell of urine was a sharp tang in the air and Temujin could not even see a latrine pit nearby.
He took the man’s dark hand when it was offered and went inside to drink yet another bowl of the salty tea, moving to the left after his father and Enq. His spirits sank further at the broken wood beds and lack of paint. There was an old bow on the wall, but it was a poor thing and much mended. The old man woke his wife with a hard slap and set her to boiling a kettle on the stove. He was clearly nervous in the presence of strangers and muttered to himself constantly.
Enq could not hide his cheerful mood. He smiled around at the bare felt and wooden lattice, repaired in a hundred places.
‘We are honoured to be in your home, Shria,’ he said to the woman, who bowed her head briefly before pouring the salt tea into shallow bowls for them. Enq’s good humour was growing visibly as he addressed her husband. ‘Bring your daughter, Sholoi. The boy’s father has said he wants to see her.’
The wiry little man showed his toothless gums again and went out, pulling his beltless trousers up at every second step. Temujin heard a high voice yelling and the old man’s curt reply, but he pretended not to, covering his dismay with the bowl of tea and feeling his bladder grow full.
Sholoi brought the grubby girl back in, struggling all the way. Under Yesugei’s gaze, he struck her three times in quick succession, on the face and legs. Tears sprang into her eyes, though she fought them with the same determination as she had fought her father.
‘This is Borte,’ Enq said slyly. ‘She will make your son a good and loyal wife, I am certain.’
‘She looks a little old,’ Yesugei said doubtfully.
The girl writhed away from her father’s grip and went to sit on the other side of the ger, as far from them as she could possibly get.
Enq shrugged. ‘She is fourteen, but there has been no blood. Perhaps because she is thin. There have been other suitors, of course, but they want a placid girl instead of one with fire in her. She will make a fine mother for Wolves.’
The girl in question picked up a shoe and threw it at Enq. Temujin was close enough to snatch it out of the air and she stared malevolently at him.
Yesugei crossed the ger and something about him made her go still. He was large for his own people and larger still for the Olkhun’ut, who tended towards delicacy. He reached out and touched her gently under the chin, lifting her head.
‘My son will need a strong wife,’ he said, looking into her eyes. ‘I think she will be beautiful when she has grown.’
The little girl broke her unnatural stillness and tried to slap at his hand, though he was too fast for her. Yesugei smiled, nodding to himself.
‘I like her. I accept the betrothal.’
Enq hid his displeasure behind a weak smile.
‘I am pleased to have found a good match for your son,’ he said.
Yesugei stood and stretched his back, towering over them all.
‘I will return for him in a year, Enq. Teach him discipline, but remember that one day he will be a man and he may come back to pay his debts to the Olkhun’ut.’
The threat was not lost on Enq and Sholoi, and the former clenched his jaw rather than reply before he had mastered himself.
‘It is a hard life in the gers of the Olkhun’ut. We will give you back a warrior as well as a wife for him.’
‘I do not doubt it,’ Yesugei replied.
He bent almost double to pass out through the small door and, in sudden panic, Temujin realised his father was leaving. It seemed to take for ever for the older men to follow, but he forced himself to sit until only the wizened wife was left and he could leave. By the time he stood blinking against the light, his father’s pony had been brought. Yesugei mounted easily, looking down on them all. His steady gaze found Temujin at last, but he said nothing and, after a moment, he dug in his heels, trotting away.
Temujin stared after his father as he rode, returning to his brothers, his mother, everything he loved. Though he knew he would not, Temujin hoped Yesugei would glance back before he was out of sight. He felt tears threaten and took a deep breath to hold them back, knowing it would please Enq to see weakness.
His uncle watched Yesugei leave and then he closed one nostril with a finger, blowing the contents of the other onto the dusty ground.
‘He is an arrogant fool, that one, like all the Wolves,’ he said.
Temujin turned quickly, surprising him. Enq sneered.
‘And his pups are worse than their father. Well, Sholoi beats his pups as hard as he beats his daughters and his wife. They all know their place, boy. You’ll learn yours while you are here.’
He gestured to Sholoi and the little man took Temujin’s arm in a surprisingly powerful grip. Enq smiled at the boy’s expression.
Temujin held silent, knowing they were trying to frighten him. After a pause, Enq turned and walked away, his expression sour. Temujin saw that his uncle limped much worse when Yesugei was not there to see it. In the midst of his fear and loneliness, that thought gave him a scrap of comfort. If he had been treated with kindness, he may not have had the strength. As things stood, his simmering dislike was like a draught of mare’s blood in his stomach, nourishing him.
Yesugei did not look back as he passed the last riders of the Olkhun’ut. His heart ached at leaving his precious son in the hands of weaklings like Enq and Sholoi, but to have given Temujin even a few words of comfort would have been seen as a triumph for those who looked for such things. When he was riding alone across the plain and the camp was far behind, he permitted himself a rare smile. Temujin had more than a little fierceness in him, perhaps more than any other of his sons. Where Bekter might have retreated into sullenness, he thought Temujin might surprise those who thought they could freely torment a khan’s son. Either way, he would survive the year and the Wolves would be stronger for his experiences and the wife he would bring home. Yesugei remembered the fat herds that roamed around the gers of his wife’s tribe. He had found no true weaknesses in the defences, but if the winter was hard, he could picture a day when he would ride amongst them once more, with warriors at his side. His mood lightened at the thought of seeing Enq run from his bondsmen. There would be no smiles and sly glances from the thin little man then. He dug in his heels to canter across the empty landscape, his imagination filled with pleasant thoughts of fire and screaming.
CHAPTER SIX
Temujin came abruptly from sleep when a pair