Conn Iggulden - Genghis, Birth of an Empire

Eeluk had grown thicker in body in the years since Temujin had seen him last. His head was bare, shaved to the skull except for a single lock of braided hair that swung as he walked. He wore a heavy black deel, trimmed in dark fur, over a tunic and leggings. Temujin narrowed his eyes as he recognized the wolf’s-head hilt of the sword on his hip. Eeluk padded through the gers without looking round, his gaze fixed on the figures by the central fire. Tolui walked at his shoulder, even larger and more powerful than Temujin remembered.

Temujin had wanted to remain seated, to show how little he cared about the man who had come to him, but he could not. As Eeluk and Tolui approached he rose to his feet, his brothers standing with him as if at a signal. Togrul saw how tense they were and, with a sigh, he too levered himself up. Yuan and a dozen of his best men stood at his back. Whatever Eeluk intended, his life would be forfeit at the slightest provocation.

Eeluk’s gaze flickered from Temujin to Khasar and Kachiun, frowning as he saw Temuge there. He did not recognize the youngest son of Yesugei, though he saw the fear in his eyes.

There was no fear in the others. Each of them stood ready to attack, their faces pale as their muscles tightened and their hearts pounded. The khan of the Wolves had been in all their dreams, and they had killed him in a thousand ways before waking. Kachiun and Khasar had last seen him when he took the Wolves away, leaving them to die on the bleak plains with winter on its way. Everything they had suffered since that day could be laid at his feet. He had assumed the face of a monster in their imagination, and it was strange to see a man, grown older, but still strong. It was hard to keep the cold face.

Tolui’s gaze was drawn to Temujin and captured there by the yellow eyes. He too had his memories, but he was far less confident than when he had captured Yesugei’s son and taken him back to his khan. He had learned to bully those less powerful than himself and fawn on those who ruled him. He did not know how to respond to Temujin and looked away, troubled.

It was Togrul who spoke first, when the silence became uncomfortable.

“You are welcome in our camp,” he said. “Will you eat with us?”

Eeluk nodded without looking away from the brothers. “I will,” he said.

Hearing his voice brought a fresh spasm of hatred to Temujin, but he lowered himself to the mat of felt with the others, watching to see if Eeluk or Tolui reached for a weapon. His own sword was ready by his hand, and he did not relax. Sansar had believed himself safe in his own ger.

Eeluk took his bowl of salted tea in both hands, and only then did Temujin reach for his own, sipping without tasting any of it. He did not speak. As guest, Eeluk had to speak first and Temujin hid his impatience behind the bowl, showing him nothing.

“We have been enemies in the past,” Eeluk said, when he had drained the bowl.

“We are enemies still,” Temujin replied immediately, released.

Eeluk turned his flat face to him. With so many men ready to leap at his throat, he seemed calm, though his eyes were bloodshot, as if he had been drinking before the meeting.

“That may be true, though it is not why I have come here now,” Eeluk said quietly. “The tribes are busy chattering about the Tartar army coming south, an army you provoked into existence with your raids.”

“What of it?” Temujin snapped.

Eeluk smiled tightly, his temper rising. It had been many years since another man had dared to take such a harsh tone with him.

“The plains have emptied of wanderers,” Eeluk continued. “They have come to join you against a common enemy.”

Temujin suddenly understood why Eeluk had brought the Wolves. His mouth opened slightly, but he said nothing, letting Eeluk go on as he thought.

“I have heard many times about the young Wolf who raided the Tartars again and again,” Eeluk said. “Your name is known on the plains now. Your father would be proud of you.”

Temujin almost leapt at him then, fury rising in his throat like red bile. It took a huge effort to master himself, and Eeluk watched him carefully, sensing it.

“I did not know you had joined the Olkhun’ut with the Kerait warriors until I was already moving the Wolves. Still, I think you will need my men if you are to crush the Tartars and drive them back into the north.”

“How many do you have?” Togrul asked.

Eeluk shrugged. “A hundred and forty.” He looked at Temujin. “You know their quality.”

“We do not need them,” Temujin said. “I lead the Olkhun’ut now. We do not need you.”

Eeluk smiled. “It is true that you are not as desperate as I thought you would be. Still, you need every rider you can find, if the numbers I heard are true. Having the Wolves with you will mean more of…your tribe are alive at the end. You know it.”

“And in return? You are not here for nothing,” Temujin said.

“The Tartars have silver and horses,” Eeluk said. “They have women. This army is the movement of many tribes together. They will have things of value.”

“So it is greed that has drawn you forth,” Temujin said, sneering.

Eeluk colored slightly in anger and Tolui shifted at his shoulder, irritated at the insult.

“The Wolves could not face them alone,” Eeluk replied. “We would have had to retreat south as they came. When I heard the Kerait would stand and that your raiders had joined them, I took the chance that you would be able to put aside our history. Nothing I have seen here changes that. You need the Wolves. You need me to stand with you.”

“For a sixth of their riches,” Togrul murmured.

Eeluk glanced at him, masking his distaste at the fleshy khan of the Kerait. “If three khans meet them, any spoils should be divided in thirds.”

“I will not bargain like a merchant,” Temujin said curtly, before Togrul could reply. “I have not yet said I will have you here.”

“You cannot stop me from fighting against the Tartars if I choose to,” Eeluk said softly. “There is no shame in discussing the split, for when they are beaten.”

“I could stop you with a single order,” Temujin said. “I could have the Wolves broken first.” His temper had taken control of him and a small part knew he was raging like a fool, but his calm was a memory. Almost without noticing, he began to rise.

“You would not do that to the families,” Eeluk said with certainty, stopping him. “Even if you could, it would be a waste of lives you need to fight the Tartars. Where is the sense in struggling amongst ourselves? I have been told you are a man of vision, Temujin. Show it now.”

All the men present looked to Temujin to see how he would respond. He felt their gaze and unclenched his cramped fists as he settled himself once more, taking his hand away from where it had fallen to his sword hilt. Eeluk had not moved in response. If he had, he would have died. His enemy’s courage in coming there shamed Temujin, bringing back memories of being a boy amongst men. He knew he needed the warriors Eeluk had brought, if he could only stomach the alliance.

“Will they take my orders, these Wolves? Will you?” he said.

“There can be only one leader in battle,” Eeluk said. “Give us a wing and let me command it. I will ride as hard as any man you have.”

Temujin shook his head. “You will need to know the horn signals, the formations I have made with the others. There is more to this than riding in and killing as many as you can reach.”

Eeluk looked away. He had not known exactly what he would find when he told the Wolves to pack their gers and ride. He had considered the chances of wresting spoils from the battered tribes who faced the Tartars, but in his most secret heart, he had smelled blood on the wind like a true wolf and he could not resist it. There had been nothing on the plains like the army of the Tartars in his lifetime. Yesugei would have ridden against them, and it had scalded Eeluk’s soul to hear that the sons of the old khan were challenging the army coming south.