Wolf of the Plains
DISCOVER SOMETHING NEW WITH THIS LIMITED-TIME DISCOUNT ON BOOK ONE OF THE SERIES.From the No.1 bestselling author of ‘Emperor’, ‘Wolf of the Plains’, is the much anticipated beginning of the Conqueror series on Genghis Khan and his descendants. It is a wonderful, epic story which Conn Iggulden brings brilliantly to life.'I am the land and the bones of the hills. I am the winter.'Temujin, the second son of the khan of the Wolves tribe, was only eleven when his father died in an ambush.His family were thrown out of the tribe and left alone, without food or shelter, to starve to death on the harsh Mongolian plains.It was a rough introduction to his life, to a sudden adult world, but Temujin survived, learning to combat natural and human threats. A man, a small family, without a tribe was always at risk but he gathered other outsiders to him, creating a new tribal identity. It was during some of his worst times that the image of uniting the warring tribes and bringing the silver people together came to him. He will become the khan of the sea of grass, Genghis.
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WOLF OF
THE PLAINS
CONN IGGULDEN
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2007
Copyright © Conn Iggulden 2007
Maps © John Gilkes
Conn Iggulden asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007201747
Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2008 ISBN: 9780007285341 Version: 2018-10-08
To my brothersJohn, David and Hal
âA multitude of rulers is not a good thing.
Let there be one ruler, one king.â
â Homer, the Iliad
Contents
Title PageCopyrightDedicationEpigraphProloguePart OneChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenPart TwoChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourEpilogueAfterwordKeep ReadingAcknowledgementsSamplePrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveAbout The AuthorAlso By Conn IgguldenAbout the Publisher
The snow was blinding as the Mongol archers encircled the Tartar raiding party. Each man guided his pony with his knees, standing on the stirrups to fire shaft after shaft with withering accuracy. They were grimly silent, the hooves of their galloping ponies the only sound to challenge the cries of the wounded and the howling wind. The Tartars could not escape the whirring death that came out of the darkening wings of the battle. Their horses fell groaning to their knees, blood spattering bright from their nostrils.
On an outcrop of yellow-grey rock, Yesugei watched the battle, hunched deep into his furs. The wind was a roaring devil on the plain, tearing at his skin where it had lost its covering of mutton grease. He did not show the discomfort. He had borne it for so many years he could not have been sure he even felt it any more. It was just a fact of his life, like having warriors to ride at his word, or enemies to kill.
The Tartars did not lack courage, for all he despised them. Yesugei saw them rally around a young warrior and heard his shouts carry over the wind. The Tartar wore a chain-mail vest that Yesugei envied, lusted after. With curt words of command, the man was preventing the raiders from scattering and Yesugei saw the moment had come to ride. His arban of nine companions felt it, the best of his tribe, blood brothers and bondsmen. They had earned the precious armour they wore, boiled leather inscribed with the leaping figure of a young wolf.
âAre you ready, my brothers?â he said, feeling them turn to him.
One of the mares whinnied excitedly and his first warrior, Eeluk, chuckled.
âWe will kill them for you, little one,â Eeluk said, rubbing her ears.
Yesugei kicked in his heels and they broke effortlessly into a trot towards the screaming, roiling battlefield in the snow. From their height above the fighting, they could all see the full stretch of the wind. Yesugei murmured in awe as he saw the arms of the sky father reach around and around the frail warriors in great white scarves, heavy with ice.
They moved into a gallop without the formation changing and without thought, as each man judged the distances around him as he had for decades. They thought only of how best to cut the enemy from their saddles and leave them cold on the plains.
Yesugeiâs arban crashed into the centre of the fighting men, making for the leader who had risen in the last few moments. If he was allowed to live, perhaps he would become a torch for all his tribe to follow. Yesugei smiled as his pony hammered into the first of the enemy. Not today.
