Free Bones of the Hills by Conn Iggulden

wanted nothing more than to stride through the drunken fools and strike Chagatai to the ground. He could feel his own strength swell in his shoulders as he imagined the blow. Yet he had learned patience with Tsubodai. As Genghis filled Chagatai’s cup, Jochi sat and dreamed of murder, smiling with all the rest.

CHAPTER FIVE
    AS DAWN CAME , Tsubodai’s poet was in the middle of telling the tale of the Badger’s Mouth, where Arslan had fought the largest army ever seen by any of the people. With Genghis and the generals watching, the poet was more honest than usual as he told Arslan’s exploits. They had all done well in that mountain pass before Yenking. Each man recalled those bloody days with pride and awe mingling with the wine in their blood. No one else would ever understand what it had meant to stand together there against the Chin empire—and see it humbled. The Badger’s Mouth had been the womb that shoved them out into a new world, stronger and more dangerous. They had gone east and Yenking had burned.
    The rising sun brought sight of thousands of riders streaming across the land from the camp by the Orkhon River, many with women and children on the saddles. Genghis was the khan and could ride where he wished, but they all wanted to hear the stories of Arslan. As the morning sun rose in the sky, poems and tales were declaimed from a hundred throats, over and over until the poets and shamans were hoarse.
    Even Genghis had not realized so many would want to hear of the early days, but his people sat rapt for the performances, including those who were drinking heavily and stuffing their faces with greasy mutton and goat meat. He heard again how Arslan had rescued him from a pit,and he blinked in painful memory at names he had not recalled for years. Arslan had been the first man to take oath to him, to promise horses, gers, salt, and blood. That, when Genghis had nothing but his mother and sister, a few wild brothers, and starvation as his companions. It had been an immense act of trust, and Genghis found himself reminded and moved once more by the changes Arslan had wrought and witnessed. That was the purpose of the truth-telling of a man’s life, that all those who heard would remember what he had meant to them and what he had accomplished as he flung the years.
    The recitals broke off for the storytellers to rest their throats in preparation for the evening performances. By then it was clear that the entire Mongol nation would drift into that place.
    It was not where Genghis had intended to honor his first general. The river was too far away, the grazing was sparse, and the ground itself was rocky and dry. Yet it was that lack of permanence that made him grunt in satisfaction as he peed into the earth. His people should not become used to comfort, he told himself blearily. Their hard lives kept them stronger than those who lived in cities.
    As Genghis tucked himself away, his thoughts were interrupted by shouts and cheers nearby. Warriors seemed to be clustering around one spot like a swarm of bees. As Genghis blinked, he saw Chagatai climb a cart to address them. Genghis frowned as another sound stilled the crowd, a yowling, coughing roar that made the hairs on his neck bristle. Genghis dropped his hand to his sword hilt as he strode through his people, letting them fall back before him rather than touch the khan and lose a hand or a head.
    His generals had gathered around an iron cage on the cart, but Genghis did not look at them, nor at Chagatai, who stood like a proud owner. The animal behind the bars was larger than any great cat he had ever seen. Genghis could only shake his head in amazement, closing one eye against the ache from his broken tooth and a throbbing headache. To numb the pain, he gestured for more airag and scored his throat with a line of it. Even then, his eyes did not leave the beast that prowled back and forth, showing its curved white teeth in a display of anger. He had heard of the