Conqueror: The Complete 5-Book Collection. Conn Iggulden

Conqueror: The Complete 5-Book Collection - Conn  Iggulden


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I thought. With long legs.’

      ‘What could you see of her legs? She looked like a yak in all those layers.’

      Khasar looked off into the distance. ‘She was tall, Kachiun, didn’t you notice? Unless you think her feet don’t reach to the ground, there must be long legs in there somewhere. Strong legs to wrap around a man, if you know what I mean.’

      ‘Temujin could marry her to Jelme,’ Kachiun replied, more to sting his brother than because he believed it.

      Khasar shook his head. ‘Blood comes first,’ he said. ‘Temujin knows that better than anyone.’

      ‘If you took a moment to listen to him, you’d hear he claims a blood tie to every man and woman in camp, regardless of tribe or family,’ Kachiun said. ‘By the spirits, Khasar, you think more of your stomach and loins than of what he’s trying to do here.’

      The two brothers stared balefully at each other.

      ‘If you mean I don’t follow him around like a lost dog, then you’re right,’ Khasar said. ‘Between you and Jelme, he has his own adoring little pack these days.’

      ‘You are an idiot,’ Kachiun told him, slowly and deliberately.

      Khasar flushed. He knew he lacked the keen intelligence of Temujin and perhaps even Kachiun, but the world would freeze solid before he would admit it.

      ‘Perhaps you should go and lie at the door of our mother’s ger in the snow,’ he said. ‘You could press your nose up against it, or something.’

      Both of them had killed men, with Temujin and with Jelme, yet when they came together, it was with the roaring energy of two boys, all elbows and red-faced struggle. Neither one reached for their knives and Khasar quickly had Kachiun’s head locked under his arm and was shaking him.

      ‘Say you are his dog,’ Khasar said, breathing heavily with the exertion. ‘Quickly, I’m on watch next.’

      ‘I saw Eluin first and she’s mine,’ Kachiun said as he choked.

      Khasar squeezed even tighter.

      ‘Say you would prefer her to bed your handsome older brother,’ he demanded.

      Kachiun struggled violently and they fell together against a bed, breaking Khasar’s grip. Both of them lay panting, watching each other warily.

      ‘I don’t care if I am his dog,’ Kachiun said. ‘Neither does Jelme.’ He took a deep breath in case his brother launched himself at him again. ‘Neither do you.’

      Khasar shrugged.

      ‘I like killing Tartars, but if they keep sending old women out with their raiders, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Even Arslan managed to find himself a pretty young thing before he left.’

      ‘Is she still refusing you?’ Kachiun asked.

      Khasar frowned. ‘She said Arslan would kill me if I touched her and I think she could be right. There’s one I don’t want to cross.’

      Arslan stood in the ger he had constructed around his forge, letting the warmth seep into his bones. His precious tools had been oiled and wrapped against rust and he found nothing to complain about as he faced Jelme.

      ‘You have done well here, my son. I saw how the other men looked to you. Perhaps it was the sky father who guided us to the Wolves.’

      Jelme shrugged.

      ‘That is in the past. I have found a purpose here, father, a place. I am concerned with the future now, if this winter ever comes to an end. I’ve never seen one like it.’

      ‘In all your many years,’ Arslan replied, smiling. Jelme seemed to have grown in confidence away from him and he did not know quite how to take the strong young warrior who faced him so calmly. Perhaps he had needed the absence of his father to become a man. It was a sobering thought, and Arslan did not want to be sober.

      ‘Can you find me a skin or two of airag while we talk?’ he said. ‘I want to hear about the raids.’

      Jelme reached inside his ger and produced a fat skin of the potent liquid.

      ‘I have arranged for hot stew to be brought to us,’ he said. ‘It’s thin, but we still have a little meat dried and salted.’

      Both men stood against the forge, relaxing in the heat. Arslan untied his deel to let the warmth get through.

      ‘I saw your swords had gone,’ Jelme said.

      Arslan grunted irritably. ‘They were the price for the women Temujin brought back.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Jelme said. ‘You will make others just as fine, or better.’

      Arslan frowned. ‘Each one is a month of solid work, and that doesn’t include the time digging ore or making the ingots of iron. How many more do I have left in me, do you think? I won’t live for ever. How many times can I get just the right steel and work it without flaws?’ He spat on the forge and watched it bubble gently, not yet hot enough to skitter away. ‘I thought you would inherit the blade I carried.’

      ‘Perhaps I will yet, if we grow strong enough to take it from the Olkhun’ut,’ Jelme replied.

      His father turned away from the forge and stared at him.

      ‘Is that what you think? That this small group of raiders will sweep across the land in the spring?’

      Jelme met his gaze stubbornly, but did not reply. Arslan snorted.

      ‘I brought you up to have more sense than that. Think tactically, Jelme, as I taught you. We have, what, thirty warriors at most? How many have been trained from their earliest years as you were, as Temujin and his brothers were?’

      ‘None of them, but …’ Jelme began.

      His father brought his hand down in a chopping gesture, his anger growing.

      ‘The smallest tribes can field sixty to eighty men of good quality, Jelme, men who can take a bird on the wing with their bows, men with good swords and knowledge enough to form horns in the attack, or to retreat in good order. I would not trust this camp to stage an attack on a fifth of the Olkhun’ut warriors. Do not be deceived! This frozen little place will need the sky father’s blessing to survive a single season after the thaw. The Tartars will come howling, looking for revenge for whatever petty damage they have suffered in the winter.’

      Jelme set his jaw tight at that and glared at his father.

      ‘We have taken horses, weapons, food, even swords …’

      Once again, his father silenced him.

      ‘Blades I could bend in my hands! I know the quality of Tartar weapons, boy.’

      ‘Stop it!’ Jelme suddenly roared at his father. ‘You know nothing of what we have done. You haven’t even given me the chance to tell you before you are away with your warnings and prophecies of doom. Yes, we may be destroyed in the spring. I have done what I could to build them and train them while you were away. How many men have you taken on to work the forge and learn your skill? I have not heard of a single one.’

      Arslan opened his mouth, but Jelme had worked himself into a fury and there was no stopping him.

      ‘Would you have me give up and lie in the snow? This is the path I have chosen. I have found a man to follow and I gave my oath. My word is iron, father, as you told me it must be. Did you mean that it was strong only while the odds were on your side? No. You’ve taught me too well, if you expect me to give up on these people. I have a place, I told you, no matter how it comes out.’ He paused, taking deep breaths from the force of his emotion. ‘I have made the Tartars fear us, just as I said I would. I hoped you would be proud of me and instead you blow like a windy old man with your fears.’

      Arslan did not mean to strike him. His son was standing too close and when he moved his hands, Arslan reacted from


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