Read Online Genghis: Birth of an Empire by Conn Iggulden - Free Book Online Page B

copied him as best he could, watching the dust cloud grow as dozens of warriors came swarming out toward the lonely pair.
    “Do not turn, Temujin,” Yesugei snapped. “They are boys playing games, and you will shame me if you give honor to them.”
    “I understand,” Temujin replied. “But if you sit like a stone, they will know you are aware of them. Would it not be better to talk to me, to laugh?”
    He felt Yesugei’s glare and knew a moment of fear. Those golden eyes had been the last sight of more than a few young tribesmen. Yesugei was preparing himself for enemies, his instincts taking over his muscles and reactions. As Temujin turned to return the stare, he saw his father summon an effort of will and visibly relax himself. The galloping Olkhun’ut did not seem so close and the day had grown a little brighter somehow.
    “I will look a fool if they sweep us off the ponies in pieces,” Yesugei said, forcing a stiff grin that would not have been out of place on a corpse.
    Temujin laughed at his effort in genuine amusement. “Are you in pain? Try throwing your head back as you do it.”
    His father did as Temujin suggested and his effort reduced them both to helpless laughter by the time the Olkhun’ut riders arrived. Yesugei was red-faced and wiping tears from his eyes as the yelling warriors skidded to a halt, allowing their mounts to block the pair of strangers. The drifting cloud of dust arrived with them, passing through the group on the wind and making them all narrow their eyes.
    The milling group of warriors fell silent as Temujin and Yesugei mastered themselves and appeared to notice the Olkhun’ut for the first time. Temujin kept his face as blank as possible, though he could barely hide his curiosity. Everything was subtly different from what he was used to. The bloodlines of their horses were superb and the warriors themselves wore light deels of gray with gold thread markings over trousers of dark brown. They were somehow cleaner and neater looking than his own people, and Temujin felt a vague resentment start in him. His gaze fell on one who must surely have been the leader. The other riders deferred to him as he approached, looking to him for orders.
    The young warrior rode as well as Kachiun, Temujin saw, but he was almost a man grown, with only the lightest of tunics and bare brown arms. He had two bows strapped to his saddle, with a good throwing axe. Temujin could see no swords on any of the others, but they too carried the small axes and he wondered how they would be used against armed men. He suspected that a good sword would reduce their hatchets to kindling in just a stroke or two— unless they threw them.
    His examination of the Olkhun’ut was being returned. One of the men nudged his pony close to Yesugei. A grimy hand stretched out to finger the cloth of his deel.
    Temujin barely saw his father move, but the man’s palm was striped with red before he could lay a finger on Yesugei’s belongings. The Olkhun’ut rider yelped and pulled back, his pain turning to anger in an instant.
    “You take a great risk riding here without your bondsmen, khan of the Wolves,” the young man in a tunic said suddenly. “Have you brought us another of your sons for the Olkhun’ut to teach him his manhood?”
    Yesugei turned to Temujin and again there was that odd light in his eye.
    “This is my son, Temujin. Temujin, this is your cousin Koke. His father is the man I shot in the hip on the day I met your mother.”
    “And he still limps,” Koke agreed, without smiling.
    His pony seemed to move without a signal and he came in range to clap Yesugei on the shoulder. The older man allowed the action, though there was something about his stillness that suggested he may not have. The other warriors relaxed as Koke moved away. He had shown he was not afraid of the khan, and Yesugei had accepted that he did not rule where the Olkhun’ut pitched their gers.
    “You must be hungry. The hunters brought in