He did not have to like these strange people. He understood that this too was a test, like everything else Yesugei set his sons. He would endure.
‘Is there a wife for him, in the gers?’ Yesugei asked.
Enq grimaced, draining the dregs of his tea bowl and holding it out to be refilled.
‘There is one family who have not been able to find a match for their daughter. They will be pleased to have her eating someone else’s meat and milk.’
Yesugei nodded. ‘I will see her before I leave you. She must be strong and able to bear children for the Wolves. Who knows, one day she could be mother to the tribe.’
Enq nodded, sipping at the salty liquid as if in deep concentration. Temujin wanted nothing more than to be away from the man’s sour smell and his gloomy ger, but he forced himself to remain still and listen to every word. His future hung on the moment, after all.
‘I will bring her to you,’ Enq said, but Yesugei shook his head.
‘Good blood comes from a good line, Enq. I will see her parents before I leave.’
Reluctantly, Enq nodded. ‘Very well. I had to take a piss, anyway.’
Temujin rose, standing back as his uncle ducked through the door. He could hear the noisy spatter of liquid begin almost immediately. Yesugei chuckled deep in his throat, but it was not a friendly sound. In silent communication, he reached out and gripped Temujin around the back of the neck, then both of them stepped out into the bright sunshine.
The Olkhun’ut seemed to be burdened with an insatiable curiosity about their visitors. As Temujin’s eyes adjusted to the light, he saw many dozens of them had gathered around Enq’s ger, though Yesugei hardly spared them a glance. Enq strode through the crowd, sending two yellow dogs skittering out of his way with a kick. Yesugei strolled after him, meeting his son’s eyes for a moment. Temujin returned the gaze coolly until Yesugei nodded, reassured in some way.
Enq’s stiffness was far more visible as they walked behind him, every step revealing his old injury. Sensing their scrutiny, his face became flushed as he led them through the clustered gers and out to the edges of the encampment. The chattering Olkhun’ut followed them, unashamed in their interest.
A thunder of hooves sounded behind their small party and Temujin was tempted to look back. He saw his father glance and knew that if there was a threat, the khan would have drawn his sword. Though his fingers twitched at the hilt, Yesugei only smiled. Temujin listened to the hoof beats getting closer and closer until the ground trembled under their feet.
At the last possible moment, Yesugei moved with a jerk, reaching up in a blur to snatch a rider. The horse galloped on wildly, bare of reins or saddle. Freed of its burden, it bucked twice and then settled, dropping its head to nibble at dry grass.
Temujin had spun round at his father’s movement, seeing the big man lowering a child to the ground as if the weight was nothing.
It might have been a girl, but it was not easy to be sure. The hair was cut short and the face was almost black with dirt. She struggled in Yesugei’s arms as he put her down, spitting and wailing. He laughed and turned to Enq with raised eyebrows.
‘The Olkhun’ut grow them wild, I see,’ Yesugei said.
Enq’s face was twisted with what may have been amusement. He watched as the grubby little girl ran away screeching. ‘Let us continue to her father,’ he said, flashing a glance at Temujin before he limped away.
Temujin stared after the running figure, wishing he had taken a better look.
‘Is she the one?’ he said aloud. No one answered him.
The horses of the Olkhun’ut were out on the ragged edge of the tribe, whinnying and tossing their heads in the excitement of spring. The last of the gers sat on a piece of dusty ground by the corrals, baked and bare of any ornament. Even the door was unpainted wood, suggesting the owners owned nothing more than their lives and their place in the tribe. Temujin sighed at the thought of spending his year with such a poor family. He had hoped at least to be given a bow for hunting. From the look of the ger, his wife’s family would be hard-pressed even to feed him.
Yesugei’s face was blank, and Temujin tried hard to copy it in front of Enq. He had already resolved not to like the thin uncle who had given them such a reluctant welcome. It was not difficult.
The father of the girl came out to meet them, smiling and bowing. His clothes were black with old grease and dirt, layer upon layer that Temujin suspected would remain on his skin regardless of season. He showed a toothless mouth when he smiled and Temujin watched as he scratched at a dark spot in his hair, flicking some nameless parasite away with his fingers. It was hard not to be revolted after the clean ger his mother had kept all his life. The smell of urine was a sharp tang in the air and Temujin could not even see a latrine pit nearby.
He took the man’s dark hand when it was offered and went inside to drink yet another bowl of the salty tea, moving to the left after his father and Enq. His spirits sank further at the broken wood beds and lack of paint. There was an old bow on the wall, but it was a poor thing and much mended. The old man woke his wife with a hard slap and set her to boiling a kettle on the stove. He was clearly nervous in the presence of strangers and muttered to himself constantly.
Enq could not hide his cheerful mood. He smiled around at the bare felt and wooden lattice, repaired in a hundred places.
‘We are honoured to be in your home, Shria,’ he said to the woman, who bowed her head briefly before pouring the salt tea into shallow bowls for them. Enq’s good humour was growing visibly as he addressed her husband. ‘Bring your daughter, Sholoi. The boy’s father has said he wants to see her.’
The wiry little man showed his toothless gums again and went out, pulling his beltless trousers up at every second step. Temujin heard a high voice yelling and the old man’s curt reply, but he pretended not to, covering his dismay with the bowl of tea and feeling his bladder grow full.
Sholoi brought the grubby girl back in, struggling all the way. Under Yesugei’s gaze, he struck her three times in quick succession, on the face and legs. Tears sprang into her eyes, though she fought them with the same determination as she had fought her father.
‘This is Borte,’ Enq said slyly. ‘She will make your son a good and loyal wife, I am certain.’
‘She looks a little old,’ Yesugei said doubtfully.
The girl writhed away from her father’s grip and went to sit on the other side of the ger, as far from them as she could possibly get.
Enq shrugged. ‘She is fourteen, but there has been no blood. Perhaps because she is thin. There have been other suitors, of course, but they want a placid girl instead of one with fire in her. She will make a fine mother for Wolves.’
The girl in question picked up a shoe and threw it at Enq. Temujin was close enough to snatch it out of the air and she stared malevolently at him.
Yesugei crossed the ger and something about him made her go still. He was large for his own people and larger still for the Olkhun’ut, who tended towards delicacy. He reached out and touched her gently under the chin, lifting her head.
‘My son will need a strong wife,’ he said, looking into her eyes. ‘I think she will be beautiful
