Free Bones of the Hills by Conn Iggulden Page A

orange-and-black-striped tiger, but to see its jaws and hear the thump of its tail as it padded back and forth in the cage set his own heart beating quickly. There was a challenge in its yellow eyes that raked the awed crowd.
    “Is it not a gift for a khan?” Chagatai said. Genghis merely glanced at him, but Chagatai lost some of his cockiness in that warning. The crowd around them had fallen silent as they waited for the khan’s reaction. Jelme was visibly uncomfortable and Genghis nodded to him in appreciation.
    “I have never seen such an animal, General. How did you capture him?”
    “The tiger is a gift to you, lord, from the king of Koryo. It was raised from a cub, but they cannot be tamed. I am told it will run down even a man on a horse and kill both the mount and the rider.”
    Genghis stood very close to the bars, staring into the tiger’s eyes. As they met his, the animal moved without warning, its weight rocking the cage as it hit the bars. Genghis was too drunk to dodge and felt a tearing impact on his arm as a paw lunged at him. He looked in dim surprise at the blood on his torn sleeve. A single claw had caught him and gashed his flesh deeply.
    “So fast…,” he said in wonder. “I have seen slower snakes. And at such a size! I can believe the tale of it killing a man and his horse. Those jaws could break a skull.” He swayed slightly as he spoke, but no one there mentioned the wound in case it shamed the khan.
    “In Koryo, there are warriors who hunt the tigers,” Chagatai said more humbly, “though they work in groups and use bows, spears, and nets.” Chagatai’s gaze fell on Jochi as he spoke, and his expression became thoughtful. His older brother was as fascinated by the beast as Genghis himself and stood too close to the bars.
    “Be careful, Jochi,” Chagatai warned him loudly. “He will strike you too.”
    Jochi glared. He wanted to contradict him, but he could not boast of his speed while his father stood and bled.
    “Have you hunted one of these tigers, in Koryon land?” Jochi asked.
    Chagatai shrugged. “They are not common around the king’s palaces.” Under Jochi’s flat stare, he could not help going on. “I would have taken part, if one had been found.”
    “Perhaps,” Jochi said, frowning. “Though I doubt Jelme would have risked the life of a young boy against such a monster.”
    Chagatai’s whole face flushed as some of the men chuckled. Moments before, he had been the master of the crowd. Somehow, his father and Jochi had stolen his moment from him, so that he had to defend his pride. At fifteen years old, he had only spite, and he lashed out without a thought at the only one he dared challenge.
    “You think you could face a tiger, Jochi? I would wager a fortune to see that.”
    Jelme opened his mouth, but Jochi’s anger leapt and he spoke rashly.
    “Name your terms, brother,” he said. “I will consider teaching your cat a little respect. He has shed my father’s blood, after all.”
    “This is drunken foolishness,” Jelme snapped.
    “No, let him try,” Chagatai replied as fast. “I will wager a hundred cartloads of my share of the Koryon tribute. Ivory, metal, gold, and lumber.” He waved a hand as if it mattered nothing. “If you kill the tiger, it will be yours.”
    “And you will kneel to me, in front of all the tribes,” Jochi said. Anger consumed him, making him reckless. His eyes glittered as he stared up at Chagatai, but the younger man still sneered.
    “For that, you will have to do more than kill a tiger, brother. For that you will have to be khan. Perhaps not even that will be enough.”
    Jochi’s hand dropped to his sword hilt and he would have drawn if Jelme had not laid a hand on his wrist.
    “Will you fight like children in front of the camp? On the night my father is honored? The tiger is a king’s gift to the khan. No one else may decide what is to be done with him.” His eyes were furious and Chagatai dipped his gaze, instantly