Conqueror: The Complete 5-Book Collection. Conn Iggulden
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in his fury to cut Temujin’s head from his shoulders with a single downwards strike. Temujin stepped left on the outside of the blow, chopping quickly at Paliakh’s chest. He opened a gash on the man’s side which he didn’t seem to feel. The blade came round at blinding speed and Temujin was forced to parry it. They struggled face to face for a moment before Paliakh shoved him away with his free hand. In that instant, Temujin struck, bringing his edge sharply through the man’s neck.
Sansar’s son tried to spit the blood welling in his throat. Arslan’s sword dropped from his fingers and he held both hands up to his neck with a grip of terrible force. Under Temujin’s stare, he turned as if to walk away, then fell headlong and was still. A sigh went through the crowd and Temujin watched them coldly, wondering if they would tear him to pieces. He saw Koke there amongst them, his mouth open in horror. As Temujin met his eyes, his cousin turned and shoved through the crowd.
The rest of the Olkhun’ut stared like sheep and Temujin found his patience fraying. He strode through them to a cooking fire, taking a burning brand from under the pot. Turning his back on them all, he touched it to the khan’s ger along the edges, watching grimly as the flames took hold and began to lick upwards on the dry felt. It would burn well, and he would not shame the bondsmen by making them see their khan in death.
‘Leave us now, until sunset,’ he called to the crowd. ‘There is always work to be done and we will leave at dawn. Be ready.’
He glared at them until the stunned crowd began to move away, breaking into smaller groups to discuss what had happened. They looked back many times at the figures around the burning ger, but Temujin did not move until only the bondsmen remained.
The men Sansar had chosen as his personal guard were fewer in number than Temujin had realised. The Olkhun’ut had not ridden to war in a generation and even the Wolves kept more armed men around their khan. Still, they outnumbered the ones Kachiun had brought and there was an uneasy tension between the two groups as they were left alone.
‘I will not disturb Sansar’s wives and young children on this night,’ Temujin said to them. ‘Let them mourn his passing with dignity. They will not suffer by my hand, nor be abandoned as I once was.’
Some of the bondsmen nodded their approval. The story of Yesugei’s sons and wife was known to them all. It had passed around the tribes until it had become one with a thousand other tales and myths from the storytellers.
‘You are welcome at my fire,’ Temujin told them. He spoke as if there was no possibility of being refused, and perhaps that was why they did not protest. He did not know, or care. A great weariness had descended on him and he found he was hungry and so thirsty he could barely speak.
‘Have food brought to us while we discuss the war to come,’ he said. ‘I need sharp-witted men to be my officers and I do not yet know which of you will command and which will be led.’
He waited until Kachiun and Khasar had layered wood in a lattice on the cooking fire, building it high and fierce. At last, Temujin took a seat on the ground by the flames. His brothers and Arslan went with him, then the others followed, until they were all sitting on the cold ground, warily watching the new force in their lives.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Except for war, there was no precedent for the Olkhun’ut to approach the Kerait on their own and the warriors on each side showed their nervousness. Both tribes were on the move, as Togrul kept a gap between his own people and the Tartar invaders coming south.
Temujin had sent Kachiun ahead to warn Togrul, but the Kerait had still armed themselves and mounted, forming a defensive position around the centre of their camp. Horns sounded their doleful note over and over on the still air. Temujin brought his mother’s people closer until both groups could see each other, just half a mile away. He halted them then, riding out to a central point with Khasar, Arslan and ten of Sansar’s bondsmen. He left his own men with the carts, watching for a surprise attack from any direction. The tension was palpable and he did not need to warn them to stay alert. Even with the Kerait’s retreat south, the Tartars could not have been more than two weeks’ ride away and he was not yet ready for them.
He dismounted on the green grass, letting his pony’s head drop to munch at it. In the distance, he could see Togrul and wondered vaguely how the man was going to find a horse to carry him. It was with a wry smile that he saw Togrul mount a cart drawn by two black geldings and whip the reins towards Temujin’s party. Wen Chao came with him and the Kerait bondsmen formed a tight square around their lord, carrying bows and swords.
Temujin raised his hands as they came within shouting distance, showing they were empty. It was a pointless gesture considering he was surrounded by armed men, but he did not want to worry Togrul any more than he already had. He needed the support of the fat khan.
‘You are welcome in my camp, Togrul of the Kerait,’ Temujin called. ‘I grant you guest rights in honour.’
Togrul dismounted with elaborate care, his fleshy face set as if made of stone. When he came within arm’s reach of Temujin, he looked past him to the ranks of warriors and the mass of the Olkhun’ut drawn up in formation. The assembly of warriors was almost as great as his own, and he gnawed his bottom lip before speaking.
‘I accept, Temujin,’ he replied. Something in Temujin’s eyes made him continue. ‘Are you now khan of the Olkhun’ut? I do not understand it.’
Temujin chose his words carefully.
‘I have claimed them, by right of my mother and my wife. Sansar is dead and they have come with me to fight the Tartars.’
Knowing his man, Temujin had arranged for the cooking fires to be started as soon as the Olkhun’ut stopped on the green plain. As he spoke, enormous platters of roasted mutton and goat were brought forward and great white cloths of felt laid on the ground. As host, Temujin would normally have sat last, but he wanted to put Togrul at his ease. He seated himself on the felt, pulling his legs up under him. The khan of the Kerait had no choice after such a gesture and took a place opposite, gesturing to Wen Chao to join him. Temujin began to relax and did not look round as Khasar and Arslan took their positions with the others. Each of them was matched by a warrior from the Kerait until they were equal in strength. At Temujin’s back, the people of the Olkhun’ut waited and watched their new khan in silence.
Yuan too was there and he bowed his head rather than look at Temujin as he lowered himself to the thick mat of felt. Wen Chao glanced at his first soldier and frowned to himself.
‘If no one else will ask, Temujin,’ Togrul began, ‘how is it that you rode away with only a dozen men and returned with one of the great tribes at your bidding?’
Temujin gestured to the food before he replied and Togrul began to eat almost automatically, his hands working independently of his sharp eyes.
‘The sky father watches over me,’ Temujin said. ‘He rewards those of our people who respond to the threat to our land.’ He did not want to speak of how he had killed Sansar in his own ger, not in front of a man he needed as an ally. It would be too easy for Togrul to fear his war leader.
Togrul was clearly not satisfied with the answer and opened his mouth to speak again, revealing a mush of meat and sauce. Before he could continue, Temujin went on quickly.
‘I have a claim on them through blood, Togrul, and they did not refuse me. What matters is that we have enough men to break the Tartars when they come.’
‘How many have you brought?’ Togrul said, chewing busily.
‘Three hundred riders, well armed,’ Temujin replied. ‘You can match those numbers.’
‘The Tartar have more than a thousand, you told us,’ Wen Chao said suddenly.
Temujin turned his yellow eyes on the Chin ambassador without reply. He sensed Yuan watching him and wondered how