Temujin closed his eyes and tried to stretch his muscles whenever the flame moved away. Tolui would not see the brambles quiver in the darkness, and Temujin began to prepare himself to run again. He eased his legs from where they were pressed against his chest, almost groaning with relief. Everything was cold and cramped and he thought his aches had woken him rather than Tolui's shouting.

He used his hands to rub knots of muscle in his thighs, loosening them. His first rush had to be fast to carry him away from them. All he needed was a little start and the darkness would hide him from their sight. He knew the family would have made it to the cleft in the hills, and if he pushed himself, he thought he could reach them before dawn. Tolui and Basan would never be able to track him over the dry gra.s.sland, and they would have to go back for more men. Temujin vowed silently that they would never catch him again. He would take his family far away from Eeluk's Wolves and start another life where they would be safe.

He was ready to move when the light from the torch fell across his patch of ground and he froze. He could see Tolui's face and the bondsman seemed to be looking straight at him. Temujin did not move, even when Eeluk's bondsman began pulling at the edges of the briars. The light from the torch cast shifting shadows and Temujin's heart pounded in fear once again. He dared not turn to look, though he heard the flame crackle in the thorns around his legs. Tolui must have pushed the torch deep into the patch to cast light on his suspicions.

Temujin felt a hand scrabble at his ankle and, though he burst into life and kicked at it, the grip was like iron. He reached for the knife in his belt and yanked it free as he was dragged along the ground, coming out into the open with a cry of fear and anger.

Tolui had thrown down the torch to grasp him, and Temujin could barely see the man who grabbed hold of his deel and raised a fist. One huge hand crushed the wrist holding his knife and Temujin writhed helplessly. He hardly saw the blow coming before he was knocked into a darker world.

When he woke again, it was to the sight of a fire and the two men warming themselves around it. They had lashed him to a birch sapling, cold and chill at his back. There was blood on his mouth and Temujin licked at it, using his tongue to ease his lips apart from the gummy muck. His arms were high behind his back and he barely troubled to test the knots. No bondsman of the Wolves would have left a loose cord he could have reached with his fingers. In a few heartbeats, Temujin knew he could not escape and he watched Tolui through dull eyes, yearning for the bondsman's death with all the ferocity of his imagination. If there had been any G.o.d to listen, Tolui would have gone up in flames.

He did not know what to make of Basan. The man sat to one side, his face turned toward the fire. They had brought no food with them and it was clear that they preferred to spend a night in the woods rather than drag him back to their ponies in the dark. Temujin felt a trickle of blood going down his throat, and he gave a choking cough, causing both men to look round.

Tolui's bullish features lit up with pleasure at seeing him awake. He rose immediately, while behind him, Basan shook his head and looked away.

"I told you I would find you," Tolui said cheerfully.

Temujin looked at the young man he remembered as a boy with arms and legs too large for him. He spat a fleck of blood on the ground and saw Tolui's face darken. A knife appeared from nowhere in the bondsman's fist, and Temujin saw Basan rise from the fire behind him.

"My khan wants you alive," Tolui said, "but I can put out an eye, perhaps, in return for the chase? What do you think of that? Or cut your tongue in two like a snake?" He made a gesture as if to grab at Temujin's jaw and then laughed, enjoying himself.

"It's strange to think of the days when your father was khan, isn't it?" Tolui went on, waving the knife close to Temujin's eyes. "I used to watch you and Bekter when you were young, to see if there was something special about you, some part of you that made you better than me." He smiled and shook his head.

"I was very young. You can't see what makes one man a khan and another one a slave. It's in here." He tapped himself in his chest, his eyes gleaming.

Temujin raised his eyebrows, sick of the man's posturing. Tolui's odor of rancid mutton fat was strong, and as Temujin breathed its sourness, he had a vision of an eagle beating its wings into his face. He felt detached and suddenly there was no fear.

"Not in there, Tolui, not in you," he said slowly, raising his gaze to stare back at the ma.s.sive man who threatened him. "You are just a stupid yak, fit for lifting logs."

Tolui brought his hand across Temujin's face in a sharp blow that knocked his head to one side. The second was worse and he saw blood on the palm. He had seen hatred and vicious triumph in Tolui's eyes, and he did not know if he would stop, until Basan spoke at Tolui's shoulder, surprising him with his closeness.

"Let him be," Basan said softly. "There's no honor in beating a tied man."

Tolui snorted, shrugging. "Then he must answer my questions," he snapped, turning to face his companion. Basan did not speak again and Temujin's heart sank. There would be no more help from him.

"Where is Bekter?" Tolui demanded. "I owe that one a real beating." His eyes seemed distant as he mentioned Bekter's name, and Temujin wondered what had gone on between them.

"He is dead," he said. "Kachiun and I killed him."

"Truly?" It was Basan who spoke, forgetting Tolui for a moment. Temujin played on the tension between them by replying directly to Basan.

"It was a hard winter and he stole food, Basan. I made a khan's choice."

Basan might have responded, but Tolui stepped closer, resting his huge hands on Temujin's shoulders.

"But how do I know you are telling me the truth, little man? He could be creeping up on us even now, and where would we be then?"

Temujin knew it was hopeless. All he could do was try and ready himself for the beating. He set himself in the cold face.

"Be careful in your life, Tolui. I want you fit and strong for when I come for you."

Tolui gaped at this, unsure whether to laugh or lash out. In the end, he chose to thump a blow into Temujin's gut and then hammered at him, chuckling at his own strength and the damage he could do.

Chapter 16.

TOLUI HAD BEATEN HIM again when he found the ponies gone. The young bondsman had been almost comically furious at the sheer nerve of Temujin's brothers, and one unwary smile from his captive had been enough for him to take out his anger in a fit of frustration. Basan had intervened, but the exhaustion and blows had taken their toll and Temujin lost hours of the dawn as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

The day was warm and gentle as Tolui burned the gers Temujin and his brothers had built. Ropes of black smoke reached up to the sky behind them, and Temujin had glanced back just once to fix it in his mind, to remember one more thing to repay. He stumbled behind his captors as they began their long walk, jerked on with a rope around his wrists.

At first, Tolui told Basan that they would take new ponies from the wanderers they had come across before. Yet when they reached that place after a hard day, there was nothing waiting for them but a scorched circle of black gra.s.s to mark where the ger had once been. Temujin hid his smile that time, but he knew old Horghuz would have spread the word among the wanderer families and taken his own far away from these hard warriors of the Wolves. They may not have been a tribe, but trade and loneliness bound together those who were weak. Temujin knew word of the return of the Wolves would spread fast and far. Eeluk's decision to come back to the lands around the red hill was like dropping a stone in a pool. All the tribes for a hundred days' ride would hear and wonder if the Wolves would be a threat or an ally. Those like old Horghuz who sc.r.a.ped by without the protection of the great families would be even more wary of the ripples and new order. Small dogs slunk away when Wolves roamed.

For the first time, Temujin saw the world from the other side. He might have hated the tribes for the way they strode on the plains, but instead, he dreamed that his tread would one day send other men running. He was his father's son and it was hard to see himself as one of the tribeless wanderers. Wherever Temujin was, the rightful line of Wolves continued in him. To give that up would have been to dishonor his father and their own struggle for survival. Through all of it, Temujin had known one simple truth. One day, he would be khan.

With nothing more than a little river water to ease his thirst and no hope of rescue, he could almost chuckle at the idea. First he had to escape the fate Tolui and Eeluk intended for him. He daydreamed as he trotted on his length of rope. He had considered coming forward and dropping a loop around Tolui's throat, but the powerful young man was always aware of him, and even if the right moment came, Temujin doubted he had the strength to crush the bondsman's ma.s.sive neck.

Tolui was uncharacteristically silent on the march. It had occurred to him that he was returning with only one of the khan's children and not even the eldest, that the valuable ponies had been stolen, and that Unegen lay dead behind him. If it had not been for their single captive, the raid would have been a complete disaster. Tolui watched the prisoner constantly, worried he would somehow vanish and leave him with nothing but his shame to bring back. When night came, Tolui found himself jerking from restless sleep to check the ropes at regular intervals. Whenever he did, he found Temujin awake and watching him with hidden amus.e.m.e.nt. He too had considered their return and was pleased that his younger brothers had at least denied Tolui the chance to strut new honors in front of Eeluk. To come in on foot would be a great humiliation for the proud bondsman, and if he hadn't been so battered and miserable, Temujin might have enjoyed Tolui's sullen withdrawal.

Without supplies from the saddle pouches, they were all growing weak. On the second day, Basan stayed to guard Temujin while Tolui took his bow and headed up to a tree line on a high ridge. It was the chance for which Temujin had been waiting, and Basan saw his eagerness before he could even open his mouth.

"I will not let you go, Temujin, no. You cannot ask me," he said.

Temujin's chest deflated as if the hope had been let out of him with his breath. "You did not tell him where I was hiding," Temujin muttered.

Basan flushed and looked away. "I should have done. I gave you one chance, out of honor for your father's memory, and Tolui found you anyway. If it hadn't been dark, he might have realized what I had done."

"Not him. He is an idiot," Temujin said.

Basan smiled. Tolui was a rising young man in the gers of the Wolves, and his temper was becoming legendary. It had been a long time since Basan had heard anyone dare to insult him aloud, even when he wasn't in hearing. Seeing Temujin stand strong before him was a reminder that there was a world outside the Wolves. When Basan spoke again, it was with bitterness.

"They say the Wolves are strong, Temujin...and we are, in men like Tolui. Eeluk has raised new faces as his bondsmen, men of no honor. He makes us kneel to him and if someone makes him laugh or has brought back a deer, say, or raided a family, Eeluk throws a skin of black airag at him like a dog who has done well." As he spoke he stared up at the hills, remembering a different time.

"Your father never made us kneel," he said softly. "When he was alive, I would have given my life for him without thinking, but he never made me feel less than a man."

It was a long speech from the taciturn tribesman, and Temujin listened, knowing the importance of having Basan as an ally. He had no other in the Wolves, not any longer. He could have asked for help again, but Basan had not spoken lightly. His sense of honor meant he could not let Temujin run now that they had caught him. Temujin accepted it, though the open plains called to him and he ached to get away from whatever ugly death Eeluk intended. He knew better than to expect mercy a second time, now that Eeluk was secure in his position. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully, needing Basan to remember, to hear more than the pleading of a prisoner.

"My father was born to rule, Basan. He walked lightly with men he trusted. Eeluk is not so...certain of himself. He cannot be. I do not excuse what he has done, but I understand him and why he has brought men like Tolui to stand at his shoulder. Their weakness makes them vicious and sometimes men like that can be deadly warriors." He saw Basan was relaxing as he spoke, considering difficult ideas almost as if one of them were not the captive of the other.

"Perhaps that is what Eeluk saw in Tolui," Temujin mused. "I have not seen Tolui on a raid, but it may be he smothers his fear in wild acts of courage."

Temujin would not have said it if he believed it. The Tolui he had known as a boy had been a bl.u.s.terer more likely to run wailing if he hurt himself. Temujin hid his pleasure behind the cold face when Basan looked troubled, considering some memory in the light of Temujin's words.

"Your father would not have had him as a bondsman," Basan said, shaking his head. "It was the greatest honor of my life to be chosen by Yesugei. It meant more then than having the strength and the armor to attack weak families and raid their herds. It meant..." He shook himself, retreating from his memories.

Temujin wanted him to go further down that path, but he dared not press him for more. They stood in silence for a long time, then Basan sighed.

"With your father, I could be proud," he muttered, almost to himself. "We were vengeance and death to those who attacked us, but never to the families, never to Wolves. Eeluk has us strut around the gers in our armor, and we do not work the wool into felt or break new ponies. He lets us grow fat and soft with gifts. The young ones know nothing different, but I have been lean and strong and certain, Temujin. I remember what it was to ride with Yesugei against the Tartars."

"You do him honor, still," Temujin whispered, touched by the man's memories of his father. In response, he saw Basan's face become calm and knew there would be no more from him that day.

Tolui returned triumphant with two marmots tied to his belt. He and Basan cooked them with hot stones sealed inside the skin, and Temujin's mouth was wet with saliva as he smelled the meat on the breeze. Tolui allowed Basan to throw one of the carca.s.ses where Temujin could reach it, and he tore at the sc.r.a.ps with deliberate care, needing to remain strong. Tolui seemed to take pleasure in jerking the rope whenever he reached to put food into his mouth.

As they started off again, Temujin struggled against weariness and the pain and soreness in his wrists. He did not complain, knowing it would give Tolui satisfaction to see any weakness. He knew the bondsman would kill him rather than let him escape, and Temujin could see no opportunity to get away from the men who held him prisoner. The thought of seeing Eeluk again was a gnawing fear in his empty belly, and then as evening came, Tolui came to a sudden halt, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. Temujin squinted through the setting sun and despaired.

Old Horghuz had not gone far, after all. Temujin recognized his piebald pony and the cart it pulled, piled high with the family's meager possessions. Their small herd of goats and sheep went before them, the bleating carrying far on the breeze. Perhaps Horghuz had not understood the danger. It hurt Temujin to imagine the old man had stayed in the area to see what had become of the family he had befriended.

Horghuz was not a fool. He did not approach the walking bondsmen, though they could all see the paleness of his face as he turned to watch them. Temujin urged him silently to ride away as far and fast as he could go.

Temujin could do nothing but watch in sick antic.i.p.ation as Tolui handed the rope to Basan and eased his bow from his shoulders, hiding it from view as he readied the string in his hands. He walked quickly toward the old man and his family, and Temujin could not bear it any longer. With a jerk that spun Basan around, he raised his hands and waved furiously at the old man, desperate for him to get away.

Horghuz hesitated visibly, turning in the saddle and staring back at the lone figure advancing toward him. He saw Temujin's frantic gesture, but it was too late. Tolui had reached his range and strung his bow with a foot on the shaft, raising the weapon whole in just a few heartbeats. Before Horghuz could do more than shout a warning to his wife and children, Tolui had drawn and loosed.

It was not a hard shot for a man who could fire at full gallop. Temujin moaned as he saw Horghuz dig in his heels and knew the tired pony would not be fast enough. The bondsmen and their prisoner followed the path of the arrow. Tolui had sent another rising after it, which seemed to hang darkly in the air as the human figures moved too slowly, too late.

Temujin cried out as the shaft took old Horghuz in the back, making his pony rear in panic. Even at such a distance, Temujin could see the figure of his friend jerk, his arms waving weakly. The second arrow fell almost on the same track as the first, landing point first in the wooden saddle as Horghuz slid to the ground, a heap of dark clothing on the green plain. Temujin winced as he heard the thump of the second strike an instant after he had seen it land. Tolui roared his triumph and broke into a hunter's trot, his bow held ready as he closed on the panicking family as a wolf will pad toward a herd of goats.

Horghuz's wife cut the pony loose from the cart and put her two sons on the saddle after wrenching out the upright shaft. She might have smacked the little animal into a run, but Tolui was already shouting a warning. As he raised his bow once again, the fight went out of her and she slumped, defeated.

Temujin watched in despair as Tolui walked closer still, casually fitting another arrow to his string.

"No!" Temujin shouted, but Tolui was enjoying himself. His first arrow took the woman in the chest, and then he picked off the screaming children. The force of the impacts plucked them from the pony, leaving them sprawled on the dusty ground.

"What harm had they done to him, Basan? Tell me that!" Temujin demanded.

Basan looked at him in mild surprise, his eyes dark and questioning.

"They are not our people. Would you leave them to starve?"

Temujin dragged his eyes from the sight of Tolui kicking one of the children's bodies out of the way to mount the pony. A part of him felt the crime in what he had witnessed, but he did not have the words to explain. There was no tie of blood or marriage with old Horghuz and his family. They had not been Wolves.

"He kills like a coward," he said, still searching for the idea. "Does he face armed men with so much pleasure?"

He saw Basan frown and knew his point had struck home. It was true that the family of old Horghuz would not have survived the season. Temujin knew Yesugei might even have given the same order, but with regret and an understanding that it would be a sort of mercy in a hard land. Temujin sneered as the bondsman rode back to them. Tolui was a little man despite his frame and his great strength. He had taken their lives to satisfy his own frustration, and he was beaming as he returned to those who had watched him. Temujin hated him then, but he made his vows in the privacy of his own thoughts and he did not speak to Basan again.

Tolui and Basan took turns to ride the piebald mare, while Temujin staggered and fell behind them. The bodies were left for scavengers once Tolui had recovered his arrows from their flesh. The little cart caught the bondsman's interest long enough to look through it, but there was little more than dried meat and ragged clothes. Wanderers like Horghuz did not have hidden treasures. Tolui cut the throat of a kid goat and drank the blood with obvious enjoyment before tying the body behind the saddle and driving the others along with them. They would have more than enough fresh meat to reach the gers of the Wolves.

Temujin had looked at the still, pale faces of Horghuz and his family as he pa.s.sed them. They had made him welcome and shared salt tea and meat when he was hungry. He felt stunned and weak from the emotions of the day, but as he left them behind, he knew in a moment of revelation that they had been his tribe, his family. Not by blood, but by friendship and a wider bond of survival in a hard time. He accepted their revenge as his own.

Hoelun took Temuge by the shoulders and shook him. He had grown like spring gra.s.s in the years since they had left the Wolves, and there was no sign of his puppyish fat any longer. Yet he was not strong where it mattered. He helped his brothers work, but did only what he was told to do, and more often than not he would wander away and spend a day swimming in a stream, or climbing a hill for the view. Hoelun could have dealt with simple laziness as long as she had a switch to beat him. Temuge was an unhappy little boy, though, and he still dreamed of going home to the Wolves and everything they had lost. He needed time away from his family, and if it was denied him, he would grow nervous and sullen until Hoelun lost patience and sent him out to let clean air blow his thoughts like cobwebs.

Temuge was crying as the evening came, sobbing to himself in the tiny ger until Hoelun lost patience with him.

"What are we going to do?" he sobbed, wiping at a shining trail of mucus almost as wide as his nose.

Hoelun suppressed her irritation and smoothed down his hair with her hard hands. If he was too soft, it was no more than Yesugei had warned her would happen. Perhaps she had indulged him.

"He will be all right, Temuge. Your brother would never be easily caught." She tried to keep her voice cheerful, though she had already begun to consider their future. Temuge could weep, but Hoelun had to plan, and be clever, or she might lose them all. Her other sons were stunned and miserable at this blow to their lives. With Temujin, they had begun to know a little hope. To lose him was a return to the absolute despair of the first days alone, and the dark cleft in the hills brought it all back, like a stone hanging on their spirits.

Outside the ger, Hoelun heard one of the ponies whicker softly to itself. She considered the sound as she made decisions that seemed to tear the heart from her chest. At last, when Temuge was sniffing in a corner and staring at nothing, she spoke to them all.

"If Temujin has not come back to us by tomorrow night, we will have to leave this place." She had all their attention then, even little Temulun, who ceased playing with her colored bones and stared wide-eyed at her mother. "We have no choice now that the Wolves are coming back to the red hill. Eeluk will scout the area for a hundred miles and he will find our little hideaway here. That will be the end of us."

It was Kachiun who replied, choosing his words carefully.

"If we leave, Temujin will not be able to find us again, but you know that," he said. "I could stay and wait for him, if you take the ponies. Just tell me a direction and I will follow when he comes."

"And if he does not come?" Khasar said.

Kachiun frowned at him. "I will wait as long as I can. If the Wolves come looking in the cleft, I will hide myself or travel by night after you. If we just leave, he might as well be dead. We will not find each other again."

Smiling, Hoelun clasped Kachiun by his shoulder, forcing herself to ignore her despair. Though she smiled, her eyes glittered uncomfortably.

"You are a good brother, and a fine son," she said. "Your father would be proud of you." She leaned forward, her intensity disturbing. "But do not risk your life if you see him caught, you understand? Temujin was born with blood in his hand- perhaps this is his fate." Her face crumpled without warning. "I cannot lose all my sons, one by one." The memory of Bekter brought a spasm of sudden weeping, shocking them all. Kachiun reached out and wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders, and in the corner, Temuge began to sob on his own once more.

Chapter 17.

EELUK SAT IN A GER twice the size of any other in the camp, on a throne of wood and polished leather. Yesugei had disdained such symbols of power, but Eeluk took comfort from being raised above his bondsmen. Let them remember who was khan! He listened to the crackle of torches and the far-off voices of the tribe. He was drunk again, or close to it, so that his hand blurred as he pa.s.sed it in front of his eyes. He considered calling for enough airag to smash him into sleep, but instead, he sat in sullen silence, staring at the floor. His bondsmen knew better than to try to raise the spirits of their khan when he was brooding on better days.

His eagle perched on a wooden tree at his right hand. The hooded bird was a brooding presence that could be as still as bronze for the longest time, then suddenly jerk at a sound, tilting her head as if she could see through the thick leather. The red tinge to her feathers had remained, shimmering when her wings caught the light of torches. Eeluk was proud of her size and power. He had watched her strike a kid goat and struggle into the air with the limp flesh dangling. He had not allowed her more than a single sc.r.a.p of flesh for the kill, of course, but it had been a glorious moment. He had given Yesugei's eagle to another family, binding them in grat.i.tude for a khan's gift. He longed to show the pair to Temujin or Bekter, and almost wished them alive just to experience their anger one more time.

He remembered the day he had been given the red bird by Yesugei's own hand. Against his will, sudden tears came to his eyes and he swore aloud and cursed the airag for bringing on his melancholy. He had been younger then and for the young everything is better, cleaner, and finer than for those who have let themselves grow thick-bodied and drunk every evening. Yet he was still strong, he knew it. Strong enough to break anyone who dared to test him.

Eeluk looked blearily around him for Tolui, forgetting for a moment that he had not returned. The Wolves had traveled slowly, drifting farther north since Tolui had left with Basan and Unegen. It should have been a simple enough matter to determine whether Yesugei's children still lived, or at least to find their bones. Eeluk thought back to his first winter as khan and shuddered. It had been bitter even on the trip south. For those in the north, it would have been cruelly hard, on the young and the old alike. Hoelun and her children would not have lasted long, he was almost certain. Yet it nagged at him. What could have delayed Tolui and the other men? The young wrestler was a useful man to have close, Eeluk knew. His loyalty was unquestioning, in comparison with some of the older men. Eeluk knew there were those who still denied his right to lead the tribe, fools who could not accept the new order. He made sure they were watched and, when the time came, they would find men like Tolui outside their gers one dawn. He would take their heads himself, as a khan should. It was never far from his thoughts that he had won the tribe with strength- and only strength could hold it. Disloyalty could grow unchecked until they found the courage to challenge him. Had he not felt the seeds of it long before Yesugei was killed? In his most secret heart, he had.

When the warning horns sounded, Eeluk lurched to his feet, taking his sword from where it lay propped against the arm of his chair. The red bird screeched, but he ignored it, shaking his head to clear it of fumes as he strode out into the cold air. He could already feel the rush of blood and excitement he relished. He hoped for raiders, or Tolui's return with the children of the old khan. One or the other would bring blood to his sword, and he never found sleep so sweet and dreamless as when he had killed a man.

His horse was brought for him and he mounted carefully rather than stumble. He could feel the airag in him, but it just made him stronger. He turned bleary red eyes on his bondsmen as they gathered and then dug in his heels, sending his stallion careering out to meet the threat.

Eeluk whooped into the cold wind as the riders formed around him in perfect formation. They were Wolves and they were to be feared. He never felt as alive as at that moment, when disloyalties were forgotten and a single enemy had to be faced. That was what he craved, rather than the petty problems and feuds of the families. What did he care about those? His sword and bow were ready for their defense, and that was all he had to give them. They could grow and increase their numbers, just as the goats did in their care. Nothing else mattered as long as the warriors rode and he led them.

At full gallop, Eeluk lowered his sword over the stallion's ears and called "Chuh!" for more speed, feeling the airag burn out of him. He wished there could be an enemy host coming against them, a battle to test his courage and make him feel again the intoxication of walking close to death. Instead, he saw only two figures on the plain, riding dark brown ponies too heavily laden to be a threat. The disappointment was bitter in his throat, but he quelled it, forcing the cold face. The Wolves would take whatever the two men owned, leaving them with their lives unless they chose to fight. Eeluk hoped they would as he drew close, his men riding around and taking positions.