his sons to them for wives. The certainties he had known among his own people were vanishing, and he felt lost and fearful. Temujin drew on his determination with an effort, composing his features into the cold face. Bekter had withstood his year with the tribe, after all. They would not kill him and anything else was bearable, he was almost certain.
“Why has he not come out?” he murmured to his father.
Yesugei grunted, breaking off from staring at some young Olkhun’ut women milking goats.
“He makes us wait because he thinks I will be insulted. He made me wait when I came with Bekter two years ago. No doubt he will make me wait when I come with Khasar. The man is an idiot, but all dogs bark at a wolf.”
“Why do you visit him first, then?” Temujin said, dropping his voice even lower.
“The blood tie brings me safe amongst them. It galls them to welcome me, but they give your mother honor by doing it. I play my part, and my sons have wives.”
“Will you see their khan?” Temujin asked.
Yesugei shook his head. “If Sansar sees me, he will be forced to offer his tents and women for as long as I am here. He will have gone hunting, as I would if he came to the Wolves.”
“You like him,” Temujin said, watching his father’s face closely.
“The man has honor enough not to pretend he is a friend when he is not. I respect him. If I ever decide to take his herds, I will let him keep a few sheep and a woman or two, perhaps even a bow and a good cloak against the cold.”
Yesugei smiled at the thought, gazing back at the girls tending their bleating flock. Temujin wondered if they knew the wolf was already amongst them.
The inside of the ger was gloomy and thick with the smell of mutton and sweat. As Temujin ducked low to pass under the lintel, it occurred to him for the first time just how vulnerable a man was as he went into another family’s home. Perhaps the small doors had another function apart from keeping out the winter.
The ger had carved wooden beds and chairs around the edges, with a small stove in the middle. Temujin felt vaguely disappointed at the ordinary look of the interior, though his sharp eyes noticed a beautiful bow on the far wall, double curved and layered in horn and sinew. He wondered if he would have the chance to practice his archery with the Olkhun’ut. If they forbade him weapons for the full turn of seasons, he might well lose the skills he had worked so hard to gain.
Koke stood with his head respectfully bowed, but another man rose as Yesugei came to greet him, standing a head shorter than the khan of the Wolves.
“I have brought another son to you, Enq,” Yesugei said formally. “The Olkhun’ut are friends to the Wolves and do us great honor with strong wives.”
Temujin watched his uncle in fascination. His mother’s brother. It was strange to think of her growing up around this very ger, riding a sheep, perhaps, as the babies sometimes did.
Enq was a thin spear of a man, his flesh tight on his bones, so that the lines of his shaven skull could be easily seen. Even in the dark ger, his skin shone with grease, with just one thick lock of gray hair hanging from his scalp between his eyes. The glance he gave Temujin was not welcoming, though he gripped Yesugei’s hand in greeting and his wife prepared salted tea to refresh them.
“Is my sister well?” Enq said as the silence swelled around them. She has given me a daughter,” Yesugei replied. “Perhaps you will send an Olkhun’ut son to me one day.”
Enq nodded, though the idea did not seem to please him.
“Has the girl you found for my elder son come into her blood?” Yesugei asked.
Enq grimaced over his tea. “Her mother says that she hasn’t,” he replied. “She will come when she is ready.” He seemed about to speak again and then shut his mouth tight, so that the wrinkles around his lips deepened.
Temujin perched himself on the edge of a bed, taking note of the fine