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their affair had ended.
    He could only warn Yesugei, his friend of many battles, what he knew of the woman Sechule. “If the brother of the khan did not satisfy her ambitions, a general who stands a step below the dais can expect to do no better.” One who could offer her only second place in his tent in particular stood no chance against Sechule’s pride.
    Yesugei dismissed his concerns with a breezy wave of his hand, as if sweeping pebbles off the board. “I have many herds and flocks,” he reminded the khan. Mergen had served his clan well, but they both knew he had gathered no wealth of his own, increasing his brother’s fortunes instead. “Sechule can have her own house in my camp and rule over it as she wishes. She may even keep her sons with her, though they will be looking around them for wives of their own soon enough.” Mergen’s sons as well, but they would never be called so while they remained unacknowledged.
    “She’s a haughty woman,” the khan reminded him. “And cold when she doesn’t get her way.”
    “I would never criticize my khan—” Yesugei affected a boastful tone, in jest, “—but some, perhaps, are better at pleasing a woman—her way.”
    The khan laughed at the ribald joke as he was meant to do, but still he wondered if his friend had heard any of his warnings.
    If General Yesugei heard not enough, Prince Tayy’s wary expression told Mergen that perhaps his nephew had heard too much. He leaned over in his saddle and gave the prince a reassuring slap on the shoulder, a wicked grin held to his lips with determination.
    “Matters of the heart,” he said. “You will understand about such things yourself soon enough.”
    Tayy returned him an uncertain smile. His eyes roved the crowd, but Sechule had gone.
    “Too old for you,” Mergen joked again, though he had no fear for his nephew on that score. Prince Tayyichiut had come back from his journey a great deal braver than when he set out, but no less cautious. He’d lost a father, after all, and a mother at the hands of a monster wearing a fair face and a stolen name. His nephew would not be parted easily from his good sense for a one-sided love.
    They had arrived at the door to the white-and-silver ger-tent palace. Mergen alighted, his fist upraised in a salute to the warriors who quickly filled the practice field behind him with their cries and the thunder of horses’ hooves. Prince Tayy and General Yesugei followed amid the recrimination of Tayy’s dogs, who chastised their master with their howling for leaving them behind. After Yesugei came their guardsmen. As he entered the palace, Mergen noted with pleasure how closely his own blanket-sons clung to the prince. Bekter and the prince laughed between them as they held off the dogs from entering with the party of men while Qutula looked on with exaggerated dismay at the noisy beasts.
    Already Qutula had gathered some small renown, with followers who pledged to serve the prince in his name. Bekter declared himself ready to immortalize their brave deeds in his songs. Their presence at Tayy’s side assured him that his blanket-sons would bring honor to their family as chosen guardsmen when their cousin took his rightful place as khan. He hoped, with the hope of one who had lost to death the anda of his boyhood, that they would swear themselves friends of the heart to their young khan, binding them in lifelong alliance of friendship and service. He had sworn so to Chimbai, his brother, as Otchigin had sworn himself to Mergen. Both khan and adviser were dead now, murdered, but the ties of anda held fast even in the underworld. Mergen stilled a shiver that traveled up his spine. It would be different for his nephew, who would reign in peace.
    Prince Tayyichiut must decide for himself to accept his cousins as anda, but he had confidence in his nephew. A family so united could only grow richer and more powerful. Satisfied that he had done all he could for now to ensure their future,