Free Bones of the Hills by Conn Iggulden Page B

meek. During his training, he had endured harsh punishments and scathing lectures from the general. The habit of obedience ran deep.
    Genghis spoke at last, having watched the entire exchange.
    “I accept the gift,” he said. His yellow eyes seemed the same color as those of the big cat yowling at their backs. Jochi and Chagatai bowed their heads low rather than have the khan’s temper erupt. When he was drunk, Genghis was likely to knock a man down for staring.
    “We could pack a circle with armed warriors,” Genghis said thoughtfully, “pointing swords and lances to the center. One man could face the beast then, if he wanted.”
    “These animals are more dangerous than anything else I have seen,” Jelme said, his voice strained. “With women and children all around…” He was caught between the need to obey his khan and the madness of what Genghis seemed to be considering.
    “Move the women and children back, General,” Genghis replied with a shrug.
    Jelme’s training was too ingrained to argue and he bowed his head to the inevitable. Chagatai did not dare look at him.
    “Very well, lord. I could have my men tie heavy planks together all the way around. We could use the catapults to form the structure.”
    Genghis nodded, not caring how the problems were solved. He turned to Jochi as the young man stood stunned at where his bickering and pride had led. Even Chagatai seemed awed, but Genghis was making all the decisions and they could only look on.
    “Kill this beast and perhaps your brother will bend a knee to you,” Genghis said softly. “The tribes will be watching, boy. Will they see a khan in you?”
    “Or a corpse, or both,” Jochi said without hesitation. He could not back down, not with his father and Chagatai waiting for it. He looked up at the tiger in its cage and knew it would kill him, but somehow he could not care. He had ridden with death before, in Tsubodai’s charges. At seventeen, he could gamble with his life and think nothing of it. He took a deep breath and shrugged.
    “I am ready,” Jochi said.
    “Then form the circle, and place the cage within it,” Genghis said.
    As Jelme began to send his men for wood and ropes, Jochi beckoned to Chagatai. Still stunned, the younger brother leapt lightly down, rocking the cart and bringing a snarl from the tiger that scraped along the nerves.
    “I will need a good sword if I am to face that animal,” Jochi said. “Yours.”
    Chagatai narrowed his eyes, fighting to hide his triumph. Jochi could not survive against a tiger. He knew the Koryons would not hunt one without at least eight men, and those well trained. He was staring into the eyes of a dead man, and he could not believe his luck. On a sudden impulse, he unstrapped the sword Genghis had given him three years before. He felt the loss as its weight left him, but still his heart was full.
    “I will have it back when that beast has torn your head off,” he murmured. No one else could hear.
    “Perhaps,” Jochi said. He could not resist a glance at the animal in the cage.
    Chagatai saw the look and chuckled aloud. “It is only fitting, Jochi. I could never have accepted a rape-born bastard as khan.” He walked away, leaving Jochi staring at his back in rage.
    As the sun set, the circle took shape on the plains grass. Under Jelme’s watchful eye, it was a solid construction of oak and beech broughtfrom Koryo, bound with heavy ropes and buttressed at all points by catapult platforms. Forty paces across, there was no entrance and no escape from the ring. Jochi would have to climb over the barricades and open the cage himself.
    As Jelme ordered torches lit all round the circle, the entire nation pressed as close as they could. At first it looked as if only those who could climb the walls would have a view, but Genghis wanted the people to see, so Jelme had used carts as platforms in an outer ring, raising men on pyramids of pine ladders, nailed roughly together. They swarmed over the