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truly rule the world, and if my brother Khans do not join this ulus of the world to come willingly, only God knows what will befall them.”
    “We cannot go back with such a message,” the captain said. “Those words will cost us our heads.”
    “You dishonor my father by saying that. You are my emissaries, and no Khan would stain his hands with the blood of ambassadors.” Yesuntai handed the scroll to the old man. “These are my words, marked with my seal. My father the Khan will know that I have carried out his orders, that the people of Inglistan will not set foot here again. He will also know that there is no need for his men to come here, since it is I who will secure this new Khanate.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you do not wish to claim the Khan’s reward for this message, then sail where you will and find what refuge you can. The Khan my father, and those who follow him to his throne, will learn of my destiny in time.”
    We watched as the sailors boarded the longboats and rowed toward the ships. Yesuntai threw an arm over my shoulders as we turned away from the sea and climbed toward Yeke Geren. “Jirandai,” he murmured, “or perhaps I should call you Senadondo now, as your Long House brothers do. You must guide me in my new life. You will show me what I must do to become a Khan among these people.”
    He would not be my Khan. I had served him for the sake of the Flint People, not to make him a Khan, but would allow him his dream for a little while. Part of his vision would come to pass; the Long House People would have a great realm, and Yesuntai might inspire them to even greater valor. But I did not believe that the Hodenosaunee, a people who allowed all to raise their voices in their councils, would ever bow to a Khan and offer him total obedience. My son would honor Yesuntai as a brother, but would never kneel to him. Yesuntai’s sons would be Ganeagaono warriors, bound to their mother’s clan, not a Mongol prince’s heirs.
    I did not say this to Yesuntai. He would learn it in time, or be forced to surrender his dream to other leaders who would make it their own. The serpent that had wakened to disturb the lands of the Long House would grow, and slip westward to meet his tail.
     
     

 
    Afterword to “The Sleeping Serpent”:
     
    I spent much of the late 1980s immersing myself in the history and culture of Mongolia, in order to write a historic novel about Genghis Khan. As have many students of Mongol history, I found myself wondering what might have happened if the Mongol armies, on the verge of even more victories over their enemies, had not suddenly withdrawn from Europe in late 1241. Had they continued to move west, their empire, already the largest land empire ever won by conquest, might have reached as far as the Atlantic Ocean, but political necessities in the Mongol homeland forced them to abandon Europe. Ogedei Khan, the son of and successor to his father, Genghis Khan, died suddenly in 1241 (reportedly after a prolonged bout of drinking), and the commanders of the Mongol forces, by tradition, had to return to Mongolia to elect a new Khan. Ogedei’s death probably prevented the Mongol conquest of all Europe.
    What might have happened if the Mongols had continued with their string of European victories? What the Mongols could not use, they destroyed, and many of the lands they conquered bear the scars of their depredation to this day; Central Asia, once irrigated by a network of canals and waterways, reverted to desert when Mongol invaders destroyed this irrigation system. The history of conquered Russia, with its exploitative aristocracy (some of whom claimed descent from Genghis Khan) and oppressed peasantry, offers a glimpse of what all of European history might have been like if Ogedei had not died when he did. For one thing, there might have been no Renaissance in either the arts or the sciences. In a letter to me, writer and physicist Gregory Benford wondered whether Western