Empire of Silver Read Free Page A

first to breach his defences.
    ‘You are looking well, Ogedai,’ Temuge said.
    He came forward as if he might embrace his nephew andOgedai struggled with a spasm of irritation. He turned away to Baras, letting his uncle drop his rising arms unseen.
    ‘Wine and food, Baras. Will you stand there, staring like a sheep?’
    ‘My lord,’ Baras’aghur replied, bowing immediately. ‘I will have a scribe sent to you to record the meeting.’
    He left at a run and both men could hear the slave’s sandals clattering into the distance. Temuge frowned delicately.
    ‘This is not a formal visit, Ogedai, for scribes and records.’
    ‘You are here as my uncle then? Not because the tribes have selected you to approach me? Not because my scholar uncle is the one man whom all the factions trust enough to speak to me?’
    Temuge flushed at the tone and the accuracy of the remarks. He had to assume Ogedai had as many spies in the great camps as he had himself. That was one thing the nation had learned from the Chin. He tried to judge his nephew’s mood, but it was no easy task. Ogedai had not even offered him salt tea. Temuge swallowed drily as he tried to interpret the level of censure and irritation in the younger man.
    ‘You know the armies talk of nothing else, Ogedai.’ Temuge took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Under Ogedai’s pale yellow eyes, he could not shake the idea that he was reporting to some echo of Genghis. His nephew was softer in body than the great khan, but there was a coldness in him that unnerved Temuge. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
    ‘For two years, you have ignored your father’s empire,’ Temuge began.
    ‘Do you think that is what I have done?’ Ogedai interrupted.
    Temuge stared at him.
    ‘What else am I to think? You left the families and tumans in the field, then built a city while they herded sheep. For two years, Ogedai!’ He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. ‘There are some who say your mind has broken with grief for your father.’
    Ogedai smiled bitterly to himself. Even the mention of his father was like tearing the scab off a wound. He knew every one of the rumours. He had started some of them himself, to keep his enemies jumping at shadows. Yet he was the chosen heir of Genghis, the first khan of the nation. The warriors had almost deified his father and Ogedai was certain he had nothing to fear from mere gossip in the camps. His relatives were a different matter.
    The door swung open to reveal Baras’aghur and a dozen Chin servants. In moments, they had surrounded the two men, placing bronze cups and food on crisp white cloth before them. Ogedai gestured for his uncle to sit cross-legged on the tiled floor, watching with interest as the older man’s knees creaked and made him wince. Baras’aghur sent the servants away and then served tea to Temuge, who accepted the bowl in relief with his right hand, sipping as formally as he would have in any ger of the plains. Ogedai watched eagerly as red wine gurgled into his own cup. He emptied it quickly and held it out before Baras’aghur could move away.
    Ogedai saw his uncle’s gaze flicker over the scribe Baras’aghur had summoned, standing in a respectful attitude against the wall. He knew Temuge understood the power of the written word as well as anyone. It had been he who had collected the stories of Genghis and the founding of a nation. Ogedai owned one of the first volumes, copied carefully and bound in hard-wearing goatskin. It was among his most prized possessions. Yet there were times when a man preferred not to be recorded.
    ‘Give us privacy, Baras,’ Ogedai said. ‘Leave the jug, but take your scribe with you.’
    His manservant was too well trained to hesitate and it was but moments until the two men were alone once again. Ogedai drained his cup and belched.
    ‘Why have you come to me tonight, uncle? In a month, youcan enter Karakorum freely with thousands of our people, for a feast and a festival they will