‘I do not like the idea, Temuge,’ he said at last. His brother’s face fell before Genghis went on. ‘But I do not forbid it. I do not want these Arabs to come creeping back when we have passed by. If they live, it will be as slaves.’ He struggled not to let anger surface as he went on. ‘Ruling a city would be a good reward for old warriors, perhaps. A man like Arslan might be renewed by the challenge.’

‘I will send scouts to find him,’ Temuge replied instantly.

Genghis frowned. He had not meant Arslan himself. Yet he still missed the old man and he could not find a reason to object.

‘Very well, brother. But send for Chen Yi in Baotou as well, if he is still alive.’

‘That little criminal!’ Temuge said, spluttering. ‘I did not mean to give power to just anyone. He has the city of Baotou already, brother. I can name a dozen men more suited to the work I have in mind.’

Genghis waved a hand impatiently. He had not wanted to begin the discussion and now it threatened to overwhelm him and spoil the day.

‘He understood the sort of thing you mean, Temuge, which makes him valuable. Offer him gold and power. He may still refuse, I do not know. Do I have to repeat myself?’

‘Of course not,’ Temuge said. ‘We have spent so long at war, it is hard to think of what must come after, but…’

‘You haven’t spent much time at war,’ Khasar said, poking him with an elbow. ‘You have spent your time with sheaves of paper, or playing the khan with your servant girls.’

Temuge coloured instantly and would have replied, but Genghis held up a hand for peace.

‘Not today,’ he said and both men subsided, glowering at each other.

Near the city, Genghis saw a group of his warriors surge to their feet. He rose instantly, suddenly wary as three of them trotted through the lively crowd towards him. Whatever disturbed their meal had not yet spread to the rest and more than one family cursed aloud as the warriors jumped over or darted around them. Many had brought dogs to the feast and those animals barked excitedly.

‘What is it?’ Genghis demanded. If one of the young idiots had started a fight on his son’s wedding day, he would have his thumbs.

‘There are people coming out of the town, lord,’ the warrior replied, bowing low.

Without another word, Genghis, Kachiun and Khasar strode through the crowd to the edge facing the city. Though they were on foot, they were all well armed in the habit of men who always had a blade or a bow in easy reach.

The men and women coming out of Nur did not look dangerous. Genghis watched curiously as perhaps sixty men and women walked across the ground between the wedding ceremony and Nur. They were dressed in bright colours that were the match of Tolui’s marriage robe and they did not seem to be carrying weapons.

The wedding crowd had fallen silent and many more men had begun to drift towards their khan, ready to kill if the need arose. By the time the group drew close, they faced a line of fierce veterans, men Genghis had honoured with the invitation. The sight of such warriors made them falter in their steps, but one of them called to the others in their strange language, clearly steadying their nerves.

When they were close enough to speak, Genghis recognised some of the town elders who had surrendered to him. He brought Temuge forward to interpret.

His brother listened to the leader from Nur, then nodded to himself before speaking.

‘They have brought gifts to the khan’s son, on his wedding day,’ Temuge said.

Genghis grunted, half tempted to send them back to their homes. Perhaps because of the conversation he had just had, he relented. Enemies were to be destroyed, of course, but these had declared for him and done nothing to make him suspicious. He was aware that having an army encamped around a town made peace talks run surprisingly smoothly, but in the end he nodded.

‘Tell them they are welcome, just for today,’ he told Temuge. ‘They can give the gifts to Tolui when the feast is over.’

His brother spoke a guttural stream and the group relaxed visibly as they joined the Mongols on the felt mats and accepted tea and airag.

Genghis forgot about them as he saw little Tolui come out of his father-in-law’s ger and grin at the crowd. He had taken tea with the family and been formally accepted by them. He led Sorhatani by the hand and, though her robe showed a bulge at the front, no one commented on it with Genghis watching. Kokchu was ready to dedicate the union to the sky father and earth mother, bringing blessings on their new family and asking for fat, strong children to fill their gers.

As the shaman began to chant, Chakahai shivered and looked away from the man. Borte seemed to understand and laid a hand on her arm.

‘I cannot look at him without thinking of poor Temulun,’ Chakahai murmured.

At the name, Genghis’ mood soured on the instant. He had lived with death all his life, but the loss of his sister had been hard. His mother had not even left her self-imposed seclusion for the wedding of her grandson. For that alone, the Arab cities would rue the day they had ever scorned his men and forced him to come to their lands.

‘This is a day for new beginnings,’ Genghis said wearily. ‘We will not speak of death here.’

Kokchu danced and spun as he chanted, his voice carrying far on the breeze that dried their sweat. The bride and her family remained still, with their heads bowed. Only little Tolui moved as he set about his first task as a husband. Genghis watched coldly as Tolui began to erect a ger from the piles of wicker lattice and thick felt. It was hard work for one who was barely a man, but his son was quick-fingered and the dwelling began to take shape.

‘I will avenge Temulun and all the rest,’ Genghis said suddenly in a low voice.

Chakahai looked at him and nodded.

‘It will not make her live again,’ she said.

Genghis shrugged.

‘It is not for her. The suffering of my enemies will be a feast to the spirits. When I am old, I will remember the tears they have shed and it will ease my bones.’

The light mood of the wedding had vanished and Genghis watched impatiently as the bride’s father stepped in to help little Tolui raise the central pole of the ger, white and new. When it was complete, his son opened the painted door to usher Sorhatani into her new home. In theory they would seal the marriage that evening, though it was clear that particular task was already accomplished. Genghis wondered idly how his son would procure a bloody rag to show her virginity had been taken. He hoped the boy would have the sense not to bother.

Genghis put aside a skin of airag and stood, brushing crumbs from his deel. He could have cursed Chakahai for spoiling the day, but it had been a short break from the bloody work he faced. He felt his mind begin to fill with the plans and stratagems he needed, settling into the cold rhythms that would take cities and scour the sands clean of all who resisted them.

Those with him seemed to sense the change. He was no longer the devoted father. The great khan stood before them once more and not one of them met his calm gaze.

Genghis looked around the camp, at those who still lay and ate or drank, enjoying the warmth and the occasion. For some reason, their indolence annoyed him.

‘Get the warriors back to the camp, Kachiun,’ he ordered. ‘Have them work off the winter fat with a long ride and archery practice.’ His brother bowed briefly, striding away and scattering men and women with barked orders.

Genghis breathed deeply and stretched his shoulders. After Otrar, the shah’s city of Bukhara had fallen almost without a blow being exchanged. Its entire garrison of ten thousand had deserted and still lurked somewhere in the hills, terrified of him.

Genghis clicked his tongue to make Jochi look up.

‘Take your tuman to the hills, Jochi. Find that garrison and destroy them.’