Empire of Silver by Conn Iggulden Read Free Book Online Page B

or shame.
    ‘Then redeem your honour!’ Ogedai roared, slamming his fists into the table.
    All three cups crashed over, spilling wine in a red flood. The Guards drew swords and Tsubodai came to his feet in a jerk, half expecting to be attacked. He found himself staring down at Ogedai, still seated. The general knelt as suddenly as he had risen.
    Ogedai had not known how the death of his brother had troubled Tsubodai. The general and his father had kept all that between them. It was a revelation and he needed time to think about what it meant. He spoke instinctively, using the man’s own chains to bind him.
    ‘Redeem your word, general, by keeping another son ofGenghis alive long enough to be khan. My brother’s spirit would not want to see his family torn and abandoned. My father’s spirit would not. Make it so, Tsubodai, and find peace. After that, I do not care what happens, but you will be among the first to take the oath. That would be fitting.’
    Ogedai’s chest hurt and he could feel sour sweat under his arms and on his brow. A great lethargy settled across his shoulders as his heart thumped slower and slower, reducing him to dizzy exhaustion. He had not slept well for weeks and the constant fear of death was wearing him to a shadow, until only his will remained. He had shocked those present with his sudden rage, but at times he could barely control his temper. He had lived under a great weight for too long and sometimes he simply could not remain calm. He would be khan, if even for just a day. His voice was slurred as he spoke. Both Tsubodai and Tolui watched him with worried expressions.
    ‘Stay here tonight, both of you,’ Ogedai said. ‘There is nowhere safer on the plains, or in the city.’
    Tolui nodded immediately, already ensconced in his suite of rooms. Tsubodai hesitated, failing to understand this son of Genghis or what drove him. He could sense a subtle sadness in Ogedai, a loneliness, for all he was surrounded by a great host. Tsubodai knew he could serve better on the plains. Any real threat would come from there, from the tuman of Chagatai. Yet he bowed his head to the man who would be khan at sunset of the following day.
    Ogedai rubbed his eyes for a moment, feeling the dizziness clear. He could not tell them that he expected Chagatai to be khan after him. Only the spirits knew how long he had left, but he had built his city. He had left a mark on the plains and he would be khan.
    In darkness, Ogedai awoke. He was sweating in the warm night and he turned over in bed, feeling his wife stir beside him. He was drifting back into sleep when he heard a rattle of running footsteps in the distance. He came alert instantly, raising his head and listening until his neck ached. Who would be running at such an hour – some servant? He closed his eyes again and then heard a faint knock at the outer door of his rooms. Ogedai swore softly and shook his wife by the shoulder.
    ‘Get dressed, Torogene. Something is happening.’ In recent days, Huran had begun the habit of sleeping outside the rooms, with his back to the outer door. The officer knew better than to disturb his master without good reason.
    The knock sounded again as Ogedai belted a deel robe. He closed the double door on his wife and crossed the outer room, padding barefoot past the Chin tables and couches. There was no moon above the city and the rooms were dark. It was easy to imagine assassins in every shadow and Ogedai lifted a sword from where it hung on the wall. In silence, he removed the scabbard and listened at the door.
    Somewhere far away, he heard a distant scream and he jerked back.
    ‘Huran?’ he said. Through the heavy oak, he heard the relief in the man’s voice.
    ‘My lord, it is safe to open the door,’ Huran said.
    Ogedai threw back a heavy bolt and lifted an iron bar that anchored the door to the stone wall. In his nervous state, he had not noticed that the corridor cast no threads of light through the cracks. It was