Conqueror (2011)

by Conn Iggulden

  ‘What have you done?’ Torogene said. Her face was pale as she stopped and picked up his tunic, sodden and twisted.

  ‘What I had to,’ Guyuk replied. He was still shivering and in no mood to be questioned. ‘It does not concern you. I will have the clothes burnt.’ Guyuk raised the bucket again, then tired of her scrutiny. He let it fall back and stepped out of the bath.

  ‘I called for fresh clothes, mother. They should have been brought to the audience room by now. Unless you are going to stand and stare at me all day, perhaps you could fetch them.’

  Torogene didn’t move.

  ‘You are my son, Guyuk. I have worked to protect you, to gather allies for you. In a night, how much of my labour have you undone? Do you think I don’t know Ochir was invited here? That he has not been seen leaving? Are you a fool, Guyuk?’

  ‘You have been spying on me, then,’ Guyuk replied. He tried to stand tall and unconcerned, but the shivering grew worse.

  ‘It is my business to know what happens in Karakorum. To know every deal and argument, every mistake, such as the one you made tonight.’

  Guyuk gave up the pretence, exasperated at her lofty tone of disapproval.

  ‘Ochir would never have supported me, mother. He is no loss to us. His disappearance may even be a gain, in time.’

  ‘You think so?’ she demanded. ‘You think you have made my work easier? Did I raise a fool, then? His families, his friends, will know he came to you unarmed and that he disappeared.’

  ‘They have no body, mother. They will assume …’

  ‘They will assume the truth, Guyuk! That you are a man who cannot be trusted. That alone among the nation, your offer of guest rights cannot make a man safe. That you are a wild dog capable of killing a man who has drunk tea with you in your own home.’

  Overcome with anger, she left the room. Guyuk barely had time to consider what she had said before she was back, thrusting dry clothes at him.

  ‘For more than two years,’ she went on, ‘I have spent every day courting those who might support you. The traditionalists who might be approached on the grounds that you are the eldest son of the khan and you should rule the nation. I have bribed men with lands, horses, gold and slaves, Guyuk. I have threatened to reveal their secrets unless I receive their votes at a gathering. I have done all this because I honour your father and everything he built. His line should inherit, not Sorhatani’s children or Batu or any of the other princes.’

  Guyuk dressed quickly, pulling the deel robe roughly over a tunic and tying a belt around his waist.

  ‘Do you want me to thank you?’ he said. ‘Your plans and schemes have not made me khan yet, mother. Perhaps if they had, I would not have acted on my own. Did you think I would wait for ever?’

  ‘I didn’t think you would kill a good man in your father’s house. You have not helped me tonight, my son. I am so close. I do not know yet what damage you have done, but if this gets out …’

  ‘It will not.’

  ‘If it does, you will have strengthened the claims of every other man in line. They will say that you have no more right to this palace, this city, than Batu.’

  Guyuk clenched his fists in frustration.

  ‘It is always him. I hear his name every day. I wish he had been here tonight. I would have removed a stone in my path then.’

  ‘He would never come to you unarmed, Guyuk. Whatever you said or did to him on the trip home has made it harder for me to bring you your inheritance.’

  ‘I did nothing. And it is not my inheritance!’ Guyuk snapped. ‘How much easier would all this have been if my father had named me in his will. There is the source of it all! Instead, he left me to scrabble around with all the others, like a pack of dogs fighting over one piece of meat. If you had not assumed the regency, I would be out there in the gers, looking at my father’s own city in envy. Yet still you honour him. I am the khan’s first-born son, mother! Yet I must bargain and bribe to gain what is mine by right. If he was half the man you seem to think, he should have considered that before his death. He had enough time to include me in his plans.’

  Torogene saw the pain in her son’s face and relented, her anger vanishing. She took him into an embrace, moving to ease his distress without thought.

  ‘He loved you, my son. But he was obsessed with his city. He lived with death on his shoulder for a long time. Struggling against it exhausted him. I do not doubt he wished to do more for you.’

  Guyuk rested his head on her shoulder, thinking sharp and unpleasant thoughts. He needed his mother still. The nation had learned to revere her over the years of her regency.

  ‘I am sorry I lost my temper tonight,’ he murmured. He forced a breath like a sob and she gripped him tighter. ‘I just want it all too much. I cannot bear it, mother. Every day, I see them looking at me, wondering when we will call the gathering. I see them smiling at the thought of my defeat.’

  Torogene stroked his damp hair, smoothing it with her hand.

  ‘Shh. You are not the same as them,’ she said. ‘You have never been an ordinary man, Guyuk. Like your father, you dream of greater things. I know it. I have sworn to make you khan and it is closer than you know. You already have Sorhatani’s son, Mongke. You were so clever to take his oath in the field. His brothers will not disobey their mother. That is the heart of our position. Then in the west Baidur has received my envoys. I am confident he will declare for you in time. Do you understand now how close we are? When Baidur and Batu name their true price, we will call the nation.’

  She felt him stiffen as she mentioned the name he had grown to hate. ‘Be calm, Guyuk. Batu is just one man and he has not left the lands he was granted. In time, the princes who look to him will see he is content as a Russian lord, that he has no ambitions for Karakorum. Then they will come to ask you to lead them. I promise it, my son. No other man will be khan while I live. Only you.’

  He pulled away and looked down into her face. She saw his eyes were red.

  ‘How much longer, mother? I cannot wait for ever.’

  ‘I have sent messengers to Batu’s camp, once again. I have promised him you will recognise his lands and titles, for his lifetime and the generations to come.’

  Guyuk’s face twisted into a snarl.

  ‘I do not recognise them! My father’s will is not written in heaven! Should I leave a man like Batu to roam free on my borders? To eat rich foods and ride white mares in peace? Should I leave his Golden Horde warriors to grow fat and make children of their own while I fight wars without them? No, mother. Either he is under my hand, or I will see him destroyed.’

  Torogene slapped him across the face. The blow was heavy and it rocked his head to one side. As a bloom of red grew on his cheek, he looked at her in stunned shock.

  ‘This is why I told you not to court the princes on your own, Guyuk. I told you to trust me. Listen. And hear with your heart and head, not just your ears. Once you are khan, you will have all the power, all the armies. Your word will be law. On that day, the promises I have made for you will be dust, if you choose to ignore them. Do you understand now?’ Though they were alone, her hissing voice fell so she could not be overheard. ‘I would promise Batu immortality if I thought it would bring him to a gathering. For two years, he has sent excuses to Karakorum. He dares not refuse me outright, but he sends me tales of injuries or sickness, saying he cannot travel. All the time, he watches to see what will come out of the white city. He is a clever man, Guyuk, never forget it. Sorhatani’s sons do not have half his ambition.’

  ‘You are bargaining with a snake, then, mother. Be careful he does not bite you.’

  Torogene smiled. ‘There is a price for all things, my son, for all men. I have merely to find his.’

  ‘I could have advised you,’ Guyuk said peevishly. ‘I know Batu well. You were not there when we rode into the west.’

  Torogene tutted under her breath. ‘You do not need to know everything, Guyuk, only that if Batu agrees, he will come to a gatherin
g in the summer. If he accepts the offer, we will have enough of the princes behind us to make you khan. Do you see now why you should not have acted on your own? Do you see what you put in danger? What is the life of one family head compared to this?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Guyuk replied, lowering his head. ‘You have not kept me informed and I was angry. You should have included me in your plans. Now that I know more, I can help you.’

  Torogene regarded her son, with all his weaknesses and flaws. Still, she loved him more than the city around them, more than her own life.

  ‘Have faith in your mother,’ she said. ‘You will be khan. Promise me there will be no more bloodstained clothing to burn. No more mistakes.’

  ‘I promise,’ Guyuk replied, his mind already on the changes he would make when he was khan. His mother knew him too well for him to be comfortable around her. He would find her some small house far from the city to live out her last days. He smiled at the thought and she took heart from it, seeing again the young boy he had once been.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Batu whistled as he trotted across a green field towards the small ger in the crook of hills. As he rode, he kept his eyes moving, looking for watchers or scouts. He had not announced his visit to the homeland of the Mongol people and he could name a few who would have been very interested in his presence there. Sorhatani had inherited the birthplace of Genghis Khan from her husband years before. She had brought tumans back to the open plains, tens of thousands of families who wanted nothing more than to live as they always had, in the shadow of mountains, on the open land.

  There was nothing to excite suspicion around Tsubodai’s ger. The old man had retired without any of the trappings of power, rejecting all the honours Torogene had tried to press on him. Batu was pleased just to find him, though the retired orlok did not move around as much as some. He had brought no great herd that had to find new grass every few months. As Batu drew closer, he could see just a few dozen sheep and goats, untethered and untroubled as they cropped the grass. Tsubodai had chosen a good spot by a stream bed, on what looked like an ancient flood plain, made smooth and flat by the passage of millennia. The sun was shining and Batu found himself admiring the man yet again. Tsubodai had commanded the greatest army of the nation, more than a hundred thousand warriors who had fought their way to the northern hills of Italy. If the khan had not died and brought them home, Batu thought they would have made an empire from sea to sea. He grimaced at the memories, ashamed that he had enjoyed the old man’s failure once. That was when Batu had thought his generation could put aside the petty politics and bickering that marred the world he knew.

  Batu kept up his slow approach, knowing it would not be a good idea to surprise Tsubodai. They were not exactly friends, though his respect had only grown in the years since the Great Trek. Even so, Batu needed the advice of one who was no longer part of games of power, one whose word he could trust.

  Still at a distance, Batu heard a dog barking. His heart sank as an enormous black hound came out from behind the ger and paused, raising its head. Batu yelled ‘Nokhoi Khor!‘ for someone to hold the beast, but there was no sign of Tsubodai or his wife. The dog sniffed the air, turning its head back and forth. It was looking at him over the field, then it growled and broke into a run, skimming through the grass. Its face flopped as it charged, so that he could see white teeth and eyes. As it approached, his hand dropped to his bow, but he did not take it up. His chances of a friendly welcome would dwindle somewhat if he shot Tsubodai’s dog.

  His pony skittered to one side and Batu shouted madly at the hound, trying different words of command. The enormous animal kept coming and he was forced to dig his heels in and canter around in a great circle, with the dog following him. He could see white froth on its mouth as it gnashed and howled at him, no longer silent as it saw him escaping.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Batu saw a woman come out of the ger. She seemed amused at his predicament and bent double as she laughed. All he could do was ride in circles, avoiding the snapping jaws.

  ‘Nokhoi Khor!‘ he called again to her and she stood up, looking at him with her head cocked to one side. After a while she shrugged and put her hand to her mouth to whistle two sharp blasts. The dog dropped to the grass at the sound, his dark eyes still focused on the horseman who had dared to enter his territory.

  ‘Stay,’ Batu said to the animal, giving it a wide berth. He had never seen a dog the size of that one and he wondered where Tsubodai had found it. It watched him all the way in and Batu was very aware of it as he dismounted slowly, with no sudden movements.

  ‘I am looking for Orlok Tsubodai,’ Batu said.

  He could hear a low growl at his back and it was hard not to glance over his shoulder. A smile twitched at the woman’s mouth as she regarded him.

  ‘Perhaps he doesn’t want to see you, nameless one,’ she replied cheerfully.

  Batu flushed. ‘He knows me well. I was with him in the west. My name is Batu, son to Jochi.’

  A shadow passed over her face at that name, as if she had heard it many times. She looked deeply into his eyes, searching for something.

  ‘I wouldn’t touch a weapon if I were you. The dog will rip your throat out.’

  ‘I’m not here for revenge,’ Batu said. ‘I made my peace a long time ago.’

  ‘I’m glad one of you has,’ she said.

  Her eyes flickered behind him and Batu turned, convinced the hound was creeping up on him. Instead, he saw Tsubodai leading a horse on foot, coming out of a straggling stand of trees not far away. Batu was surprised by the feeling of relief that swept over him. Once, he had hated the man, but then in those days he had hated many. In time, he had learned to respect him. Batu did not examine his own feelings in too much detail, but in many ways he thought of Tsubodai as a father. It was not something he had ever said. Simply to see Tsubodai alive and apparently well was a ray of light in his current mood. Nothing seemed as hard if you had Tsubodai on your side. If that was true, of course. Batu was still not at all certain how he would be received.

  Those thoughts passed quickly through his mind as Tsubodai came closer. The old man whistled to his dog and Batu watched as the savage animal rose and ran to him, suddenly puppyish in its enthusiasm, so that it wagged its entire body rather than just its stump of a tail. Tsubodai walked with one hand loosely wrapped in a rein and the other reaching out to ruffle the dog’s great head. He was not smiling as he looked from Batu to his wife.

  ‘Have you offered him tea?’

  ‘Not yet,’ his wife said. ‘I thought I’d leave it up to you.’

  ‘Good. Be on your way then, Batu. I have nothing to say to you.’

  Batu waited, but as far as Tsubodai was concerned, the conversation was clearly at an end. Tsubodai walked past him, clicking his tongue to keep the dog close.

  ‘I came a very long way to see you, orlok,’ Batu said.

  ‘I’ve left titles like that behind me,’ Tsubodai shot over his shoulder. ‘I am retired.’

  ‘I’m not here to ask you to lead, old man, just to ask for your advice.’

  Tsubodai paused in the action of ducking down through his ger door. ‘Goodbye,’ he said without looking up.

  Batu watched in frustration as Tsubodai vanished into the gloomy interior, taking his dog with him. Batu turned helplessly to face Tsubodai’s wife, still standing there with the same wry smile. Her child-bearing years were surely behind her, but she looked vaguely maternal as her gaze swept over the disappointed young man.

  ‘I don’t like to see a visitor turned away with nothing,’ she said. ‘Will you take salt tea?’

  Batu heard a grunt of irritation from inside the ger. The walls were thin enough for Tsubodai to hear every word.

  ‘It would be an honour,’ Batu replied.

  He was still there as the evening came in. Tsubodai didn’t seem too troubled by his presence. The old man had contented himself with a silent glare, repairing a bow while Batu sat making polite conve
rsation for some hours. He had learned the name of Tsubodai’s wife, at least. Ariuna was a pleasant woman and once she had relaxed, she was fascinated by the news he brought. Even Tsubodai snorted when Batu talked of the lands he had been given in Ogedai’s will. At a stroke of an ink brush, Ogedai had awarded him a vast fiefdom in Russia. Knowing Tsubodai was listening closely, Batu told Ariuna that part of it had once been his father’s, after leaving Genghis behind him. He had felt Tsubodai’s gaze on him then, knowing the old man’s memories would still be sharp. Batu had not looked up and, after a time, Tsubodai went back to his pots of boiling water, horn and glue.

  As the sun set, Tsubodai rose, stretching his back with a groan.

  ‘I have to check the animals,’ he said to his wife.

  Batu looked at his feet, and it was not until Ariuna said ‘Go after him, then!’ that he stood up with a grin and went out. Women were sometimes vital when it came to men talking.

  He found Tsubodai with the dog, which turned and bared its teeth at him until Tsubodai checked it with a word. Together, he and Batu tested the ties holding a small corral together, before going on to feel the womb of a goat very close to giving birth. The silence between them was comfortable, much better than when he had sat in Tsubodai’s home as an unwanted guest. Outside, the old man seemed to relax a little and he gestured for Batu to examine the goat. Batu nodded as he pressed his fingers around the unborn shape.

  ‘Not long now,’ was his verdict. ‘She seems happy enough.’

  ‘She is,’ Tsubodai said, straightening up. ‘And so am I. Life is hard, Batu, but it can at least be simple. It is simple here.’