“Riders!” Kachiun yelled to their mother.

They all turned as she appeared at the door of the closest ger.

“How many?” she said. She walked out to them and strained to see the strangers in the distance, but her eyes were not as good as her sons’.

“Three alone,” Kachiun said with certainty. “Do we run?”

“You have prepared for this, Temujin,” Hoelun said softly. “The choice is yours.”

Temujin felt them all look to him, though he did not break his gaze away from the dark specks on the plain. He was still lifted by the words he had spoken with his brothers, and he wanted to spit into the wind and challenge the newcomers. The family of Yesugei would not be cowed, not after they had come so far. He took a deep breath and let his thoughts settle. The men could be an advance party for many more, or three raiders come to burn, rape, and kill. He clenched his fists, but then made the decision.

“Get into the woods, all of you,” he said, furiously. “Take the bows and anything you can carry. If they come to steal from us, we’ll gut them, I swear it.”

His family moved quickly, Hoelun disappearing inside the ger and emerging with Temulun on her hip and Temuge trotting at her side. Her youngest son had lost his puppy fat in the hard years, but he still looked fearfully behind him as they made for the woods, stumbling along beside his mother.

Temujin joined Khasar and Kachiun as they retrieved their shafts and bows, yanking bags onto their shoulders and running to the tree line. They could hear the riders shout behind them as they saw them run, but they would be safe. Temujin swallowed bitterness in his throat as he passed into the trees and paused, panting, looking back. Whoever they were, he hated them for making him run, when he had sworn no one would do it again.

THE THREE WARRIORS RODE cautiously into the tiny camp, noting the wisp of smoke that still came from one of the gers. They could hear the bleating of goats and sheep, but otherwise the morning was strangely still and they could all feel the pressure of unseen eyes.

The small gers and the rickety corral lay by a stream at the bottom of a wooded hill. Tolui had seen the running figures disappear into the trees, and he was careful to dismount so that his pony’s bulk hid him from an ambush or a stray shot. Under their deels, Basan and Unegen wore leather armor like his own, a layer that would protect their chests and give them an edge even against a direct attack.

Tolui kept his hands low behind his horse’s neck as he signaled to the others. One of them had to check the gers before they moved on, or risk being shot at from behind. It was Basan who nodded, leading his mare into the shadow of the ger and using her to block the sight of him ducking inside. Tolui and Unegen waited while he searched, their eyes scanning the tree line. Both men could see heavy banks of thorn bush tied with twine amongst the trunks, forcing any pursuit to come on foot. The ground had been prepared by someone who had expected a raid, and they had chosen well. To reach the trees, the bondsmen would have to cross thirty paces of open ground, and if the sons of Yesugei were waiting with bows, it would be a hard, bloody business.

Tolui frowned to himself as he considered their situation. He no longer doubted the running figures were the sons they had left behind. The few wanderer families who scavenged on the plains would not have prepared for a battle as these had. He strung his bow by feel, never taking his eyes off the dark undergrowth that could be hiding an army. He knew he could ride away to return with enough men to hunt them down, but Eeluk would not have seen the rolls of thorns and he would think Tolui had lost his nerve. He would not have his khan believe that of him and he began to prepare himself for a fight. His breathing changed from long, slow inhalations to the sipping breath that raised his heartbeat and charged him with strength, while Basan entered the second ger and came out shaking his head.

Tolui clenched his fist, then spread three fingers in a sharp jab. Basan and Unegen nodded to show they had understood. They prepared their own bows and waited for his lead. Tolui felt strong and, in his leather armor, he knew only the most powerful arrow shot could hurt him. He raised his fist and the three men broke into a run together, splitting apart as they reached the open ground.

Tolui panted as he ran, watching for the slightest movement. To one side, he caught a flicker and threw himself into a wrestler’s roll, coming up fast as something hummed over his head. The other two men jinked as they closed the gap, but Tolui had seen by then that there was no way through the first line of trees. Every single gap had been closed by the great rolls of tied thorns. The sons of Yesugei must have pulled the last one behind them and Tolui found himself hesitating, while his heart pounded at being so exposed.

Before he could make a decision, an arrow punched into his chest, staggering him. The pain was colossal, but he ignored it, trusting in the armor to have prevented it from sinking in too far. They had good bows, he realized.

The three Wolves came to a stop in the worst possible position, facing the rolls of thorns. Yet as archers, each of them could take a bird on the wing: the situation was not as disastrous as Tolui had feared. For their enemies to shoot, they had to show themselves, if only for an instant. If they did, one of the three bondsmen would send a shaft back in the flick of an eye, too fast to dodge.

The sons of Yesugei must have realized the weakness in their tactic as silence grew and spread through the trees. The birds had all flown at the sudden rush of the warriors, and the only sound was the panting of men in fear of their lives, slowly coming under control.

Tolui took two slow paces to his right, crossing one leg over the other in perfect balance as Basan and Unegen spread out to his left. Every sense was heightened as they watched, ready to kill or be killed. It was too easy to imagine an arrow tearing into their flesh, but Tolui found he was enjoying the sense of danger. He kept his head high, then, on impulse, called out to the hidden enemy.

“My name is Tolui of the Wolves,” he said, his voice loud in the clearing. “Bondsman to Eeluk who was once bondsman to Yesugei.” He took a deep breath. “There is no need to fight. If you grant us guest rights, we will go back to the gers and I will tell you my messages.”

He waited for a response, though he did not really expect them to give themselves away so easily. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Basan shift his weight slightly, betraying discomfort.

“We cannot stand here all day,” Basan murmured.

Their eyes moved ceaselessly as Tolui hissed back, “You would let them run us off?”

Only Basan’s lips moved to respond. “Now we know they are alive, we should take the news back to the khan. Perhaps he will have fresh orders.”

Tolui turned his head a fraction to answer, and it was that movement that almost killed him. He saw a boy rise and pull smoothly back on an arrow. For Tolui, the world roared in his ears as he released his own shaft at the exact moment he was sent stumbling by another blow to his chest, just below the throat. The shot had been rushed, he realized over the pain. He heard Unegen shoot into the bushes and Tolui roared in anger as he rose, setting another arrow to the string.

Basan fired blindly where he saw something move. They heard no cry of pain and Tolui glanced to his left to see Unegen on the ground, a shaft through his throat from front to back. The whites of his eyes were showing and his tongue was hanging limply from his mouth. Tolui cursed, swinging his bent bow back and forth in a fury.

“You have asked for a hard death and I will give it to you!” he shouted. For an instant, he thought of running for the ponies, but his pride and fury kept him there, desperate to punish those who dared to attack him. His deel bristled with arrows and he snapped off two shafts with quick jerks of his hands when they interfered with his movement.