Conn Iggulden - Conqueror

A storm growled over Karakorum city, the streets and avenues

Batu whistled as he trotted across a green field towards

Karakorum had not seen such a gathering for many years.

The moon was out, the night cloudless, so that its

Torogene lowered herself onto the bench in the garden pavilion,

Guyuk knew he cut a fine figure on his horse,

Over three days of hard riding, Kublai ran his horse

There wasnt much conversation as Tarrial and Parikh led Kublai

Guyuk loved the long summer evenings, where the world hung

It took a month to bring the army home to

In her husbands summer palace, Torogene sat in a silent

Oghul Khaimish stood on the banks of the Orkhon river,

Suleiman was old, but mountains and deserts had hardened his

Kublai could see a multitude around him, from those digging

Hulegu was hot and thirsty as he rode north. The

The sun set in streaks of gold and red as

Yao Shu was filled with strange emotions as he rocked

The prisoners were bound by their wrists to iron posts

Hulegu watched the gates creak open, pushed by teams of

It was no simple task to disarm the city of

The caliph wept as the House of Wisdom burned. The

Kublai watched as the Chin regiments ran from their tents,

Kublai had given strict orders that the workers in the

Xuan, Son of Heaven and heir to the Chin empire,

Hangzhou had many barracks for the emperors armies. The best

Kublai and Bayar sat with their backs against the same

Kublai stared as he trotted along the road to Shaoyang.

With ancient oaks overhead, Kublai sat out in the open

As the afternoon wore on, the tumans remained in the

Before the sun rose, before even the grey light that

At dawn, Arik-Boke stood on the plains before Karakorum. Mongkes

The imperial meeting chamber at the heart of Hangzhou was

Heavy rain hissed onto the roof of the house Kublai

Be silent for the Son of Heaven, Emperor of the

Kublai rode in pouring rain, his horse labouring and snorting

Samarkand was a beautiful city, with white mountains in the

Arik-Boke drew back his bow and tried again to bring

Hulegu cursed his generals memory as he galloped along the

High in the grey-green hills, Kublai could not rest. He

Alandar muttered to himself in irritation as his scouts came

Kublai gave thanks for his brothers poor decisions as he

The night was cold and still as Kublai rode towards

Arik-Boke craned forward in his saddle, peering through the dust

Kublai stood alone in the throne room of the palace

AD 1244

A storm growled over Karakorum city, the streets and avenues running in streams as the rain hammered down in the darkness. Outside the thick walls, thousands of sheep huddled together in their enclosures. The oil in their fleeces protected them from the rain, but they had not been led to pasture and hunger made them bleat and yammer to each other. At intervals, one or more of them would rear up mindlessly on its fellows, forming a hillock of kicking legs and wild eyes before falling back into the squirming mass.

The khans palace was lit with lamps that spat and crackled on the outer walls and gates. Inside, the sound of rain was a low roar that rose and fell in intensity, pouring as solid sheets over the cloisters. Servants gazed out into the yards and gardens, lost in the mute fascination that rain can hold. They stood in groups, reeking of wet wool and silk, their duties abandoned for a time while the storm passed.

For Guyuk, the sound of the rain merely added to his irritation, much as a man humming would have interrupted his thoughts. He poured wine carefully for his guest and stayed away from the open window where the stone sill was already dark with wetness. The man who had come at his request looked nervously around at the audience room. Guyuk supposed its size would create awe in anyone more used to the low gers of the plains. He remembered his own first nights in the silent palace, oppressed by the thought that such a weight of stone and tile would surely fall and crush him. He could chuckle now at such things, but he saw his guests eyes flicker up to the great ceiling more than once. Guyuk smiled. His father Ogedai had dreamed a great mans dreams when he made Karakorum.

As Guyuk put down the stone jug of wine and returned to his guest, the thought tightened his mouth into a thin line. His father had not had to court the princes of the nation, to bribe, beg and threaten merely to be given the title that was his by right.

Try this, Ochir, Guyuk said, handing his cousin one of two cups. It is smoother than airag.

He was trying to be friendly to a man he barely knew. Yet Ochir was one of a hundred nephews and grandsons to the khan, men whose support Guyuk had to have. Ochirs father Kachiun had been a name, a general still revered in memory.

Ochir did him the courtesy of drinking without hesitating, emptying the cup in two large swallows and belching.

Its like water, Ochir said, but he held out the cup again.

Guyuks smile became strained. One of his companions rose silently and brought the jug over, refilling both their cups. Guyuk settled down on a long couch across from Ochir, trying hard to relax and be pleasant.

Im sure you have an idea why I asked for you this evening, Ochir, he said. You are from a good family, with influence. I was there at your fathers funeral in the mountains.

Ochir leaned forward where he sat, his interest showing.

He would have been sorry not to see the lands you went to, Ochir said. I did not know him well. He had many sons. But I know he wanted to be with Tsubodai on the Great Trek west. His death was a terrible loss.

Of course! He was a man of honour, Guyuk agreed easily. He wanted to have Ochir on his side and empty compliments hurt no one. He took a deep breath. It is in part because of your father that I asked you to come to me. That branch of the families follow your lead, do they not, Ochir?

Ochir looked away, out of the window, where the rain still drummed on the sills as if it would never stop. He was dressed in a simple deel robe over a tunic and leggings. His boots were well worn and without ornament. Even his hat was unsuited to the opulence of the palace. Stained with oil from his hair, its twin could have been found on any herdsman.