Free Genghis: Birth of an Empire by Conn Iggulden

fat spring marmots this morning— will you eat with us?”
    “We will,” Yesugei answered for both of them.
    From that moment they were protected by guest rights and Yesugei lost the stiffness that suggested he’d rather be holding a sword. His dagger had vanished back into his fur-lined robe. In comparison, Temujin’s stomach felt as if it had dropped out. He had not fully appreciated how lonely he would feel surrounded by strangers, and even before they reached the outer tents of the Olkhun’ut, he was watching his father closely, dreading the moment when he would ride away and leave his son behind.

    T he gers of the Olkhun’ut were a different shade of white-gray from those Temujin knew. The horses were held in great corrals outside the gathering of tents, too many for him to count. With cattle, goats, and sheep busy munching grass on every nearby hill, he could see the Olkhun’ut were prosperous and, as Yesugei had said, strong in numbers. Temujin saw little boys the age of his brothers racing along the outskirts of the camp. Each held a small bow and seemed to be firing directly into the ground, yelling and cursing alternately. It was all strange, and he wished Kachiun and Khasar were there with him.
    His cousin Koke jumped down from his pony, giving the reins to a tiny woman with a face as wrinkled as a leaf. Temujin and Yesugei dismounted at the same time, and their ponies were taken away to be watered and fed. The other riders scattered through the camp, returning to their own gers or gathering in groups to talk. Strangers in the tribe were not common and Temujin could feel hundreds of eyes on him as Koke led the two Wolves through the midst of his people, striding ahead.
    Yesugei grunted in displeasure at being forced to walk behind the young man. The khan walked even slower in response, pausing to inspect the decorative knotwork on the ger of a lesser family. With a frown on his face, Koke was forced to wait for his guests, or arrive at his destination without them. Temujin might have applauded the subtle way his father had turned the little game of status to his advantage. Instead of hurrying along after the younger man, they had made the trip a tour of the Olkhun’ut gers. Yesugei even spoke to one or two of the people, but never with a question they might not have answered, only with a compliment or a simple remark. The Olkhun’ut stared after the pair of Wolves, and Temujin sensed his father was enjoying the tensions as much as a battle.
    By the time they stopped outside a ger with a bright blue door, Koke was irritated with them both, though he could not exactly have said why.
    “Is your father well?” Yesugei said.
    The young warrior was forced to pause as he ducked into the ger. “He is as strong as ever,” Koke replied.
    Yesugei nodded. “Tell him I am here,” he said, looking blandly at his nephew by marriage.
    Koke colored slightly before disappearing into the darkness within. Though there were eyes and ears all around them, Temujin and Yesugei had been left alone.
    “Observe the courtesies when we go in,” Yesugei murmured. “These are not the families you know. They will notice every fault and rejoice in it.”
    “I understand,” Temujin replied, barely moving his lips. “How old is my cousin Koke?”
    “Thirteen or fourteen,” Yesugei replied.
    Temujin looked up with interest. “So he is alive only because you shot his father in the hip and not the heart?”
    Yesugei shrugged. “I did not shoot for the hip. I shot to kill, but I had only an instant to loose the shaft before your mother’s other brother threw an axe at me.”
    “Is he here as well?” Temujin asked, looking round.
    Yesugei chuckled. “Not unless he managed to put his head back on.”
    Temujin fell silent as he considered this. The Olkhun’ut had no reason to love his father and many to hate him, yet he sent his sons to them for wives. The certainties he had known among his own people were vanishing, and he