‘I would,’ Chagatai said softly.
It was a hard truth, that Ogedai’s son would not live to inherit, but neither man looked away from the other. Chagatai began to appreciate something of what Ogedai had gone through in the years since their father’s death.
‘How long have you known of the weakness?’ he asked.
Ogedai shrugged. ‘I’ve had twinges as long as I can remember, but it has grown worse in the last few years. There have been…more serious pains. Without the Chin powders, I do not think I have much time.’
‘Wait,’ Chagatai said, frowning. ‘You say I am safe? You will let me leave with this information? I don’t understand.’
It was Tsubodai who replied and he too stared at Ogedai as if seeing him for the first time.
‘If you died, Chagatai, if you were killed as you deserve for the attacks last night, who would keep the nation whole when the khan falls?’ Tsubodai’s face twisted into a furious sneer. ‘It seems you will be rewarded for your failures, my lord.’
‘That is why you too had to hear this, Tsubodai,’ Ogedai said. ‘You must put aside your anger. My brother will be khan after me and you will be his first general. He too is a son of Genghis, the bloodline of the man you gave oath to serve.’
Chagatai struggled to take in what he had heard.
‘You expect me to wait then, to be quiet and peaceful while I wait for you to die? How do I know this is not some ruse, something dreamed up by Tsubodai?’
‘Because I could kill you now,’ Ogedai snapped, his temper fraying visibly. ‘I still could, Chagatai. Why else would I offer you your life, after last night? I speak from a position of strength, brother, not failure. That is how you should judge my words.’
Reluctantly, Chagatai nodded. He needed time to think and he knew he was not going to be given that luxury.
‘I have made promises to those who have supported me,’ he said. ‘I cannot simply live the life of a herder while I wait. It would be a living death, unworthy of a warrior.’ He paused for a moment, thinking quickly. ‘Unless you make me your heir, publicly. Then I will have the respect of my generals.’
‘That I will not do,’ Ogedai said immediately. ‘If I die in the next few months, you will be khan whether I have made you heir or not. If I survive longer, I will not deny the chance to my son. You must take your chances with him, as he must with you.’
‘Then you offer me nothing!’ Chagatai replied, raising his voice almost to a shout. ‘What sort of a deal is this, based on empty promises? Why even tell me? If you die soon, yes I will be khan, but I will not spend my life waiting for a messenger who might never come. No man would.’
‘After the attacks last night, you had to be told. If I let it pass, if I just sent you back to your tuman, you would see only weakness. How long before you or another challenged me then? Yet I am not leaving you with nothing, Chagatai. Far from it. My task is to expand the lands we have conquered, to make the nation safe to thrive and grow by doing so. To our brother Tolui, I will give the homeland, though I will keep Karakorum as my own city.’ He took a deep breath, seeing the light of anticipation and greed in his brother’s eyes. ‘You will take Khwarezm as the centre of your lands, with the cities of Samarkand, Bukhara and Kabul. I will give to you a khanate two thousand miles across, from the Amu Darya river to the Altai mountains. You and your descendants will rule there, though you will pay tribute to me and to mine.’
‘My lord…’ Tsubodai began, appalled.
Chagatai chuckled derisively. ‘Let him speak, general. This is a matter for family, not for you.’
Ogedai shook his head. ‘I have planned this for almost two years, Tsubodai. My challenge is to put aside the rage I feel for the attacks on my family and make the right choices, even now.’
He raised his head to stare at Chagatai, and his brother felt the surging emotions in his gaze.
‘My son and daughters survived, Chagatai. Did you know that? If they had been killed by your warriors, I would be watching you slow-roasted at this moment and listening to you scream. Some things I will not bear in the name of my father’s empire, his vision.’ He paused, but Chagatai said nothing. Ogedai nodded, satisfied he had been understood.
‘You have a position of strength, brother,’ Ogedai said. ‘You have generals loyal to you, while I have a vast empire that must be administered and controlled by able men. After today, I will be the gur-khan, the leader of nations. I will take your oath and honour mine to you and your descendants. The Chin showed us how to rule many lands, Chagatai, with tribute flowing back to the capital.’
‘You have not forgotten what happened to that capital?’ Chagatai asked.
Ogedai’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘I have not, brother. Do not think that one day you will lead an army into Karakorum. Our father’s blood runs in my veins as much as it does in yours. If you ever come to me holding a sword, it will be against the khan and the nation will answer. I will destroy you then with your wives and children, your servants and followers. Do not forget, Chagatai, that I survived the night. Our father’s luck is mine. His spirit watches over me. Yet I am offering you an empire greater than anything outside the lands of the Chin.’
‘Where I will rot,’ Chagatai said. ‘You would have me lock myself in a pretty palace, surrounded by women and gold…’ he struggled for something suitably appalling,’…chairs and crowns?’
Ogedai smiled slightly to see his brother’s horror at such a prospect.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You will raise an army for me there, one I may call on. An army of the West, as Tolui will create an army of the Hearth and I will gather one of the East. The world has grown too large for one army of the nation, my brother. You will ride where I tell you to ride, conquer where I tell you to conquer. The world is yours, if you can put aside the base part of you that tells you to rule it all. That you may not have. Now give me an answer and your oath. Your word is iron, brother and I will take it. Or I can just kill you now.’
Chagatai nodded, overcome with the sudden shift from fatalistic numbness to new hope and new suspicions.
‘What oath will you accept?’ he said at last, and Ogedai knew he had won. He held out the wolf’s-head sword that Genghis had worn.
‘Swear with your hand on this sword. Swear by our father’s spirit and honour that you will never raise a hand in anger against me. That you will accept me as gur-khan and be a loyal vassal as khan of your own lands and peoples. Whatever else happens is the will of the sky father, but on that, you can make an oath I will respect. There will be many others today, Chagatai. Be the first.’
The nation knew that Chagatai had gambled for the horsetails, throwing his men at the city of Karakorum. When Ogedai and his officers rode around the city that morning in a show of strength, they saw that the attempt had failed. Yet somehow Chagatai too rode proudly as he rejoined his tuman outside the city. He sent his bondsmen to collect the corpses and carry them far beyond Karakorum, out of sight. In just a short time, only rusty marks were left on the streets, the dead as well hidden as the plans and stratagems of great men. The warriors of the nation shrugged and continued to prepare for the festival and the great games that would begin that day.
For Kachiun and Khasar, it was enough for the moment to know Ogedai had survived. The games would go ahead and there would be time to think of the future once he was made khan. Tumans that had faced each other in anger the night before sent teams of bowmen to the archery wall outside Karakorum. For those men, the battles of princes were a different world. They were pleased their own generals had survived; more pleased that the games had not been called off.
Tens of thousands gathered