“Senggum? I don’t trust him and now I don’t trust you.

”
“Senggum said himself: if a son dies, a man may produce more sons. But
there can only be one Temujin! If you don’t let Tusakha go, you will not live to
see the sun rise tomorrow.”
Temujin knew the two men well; they would certainly have him killed. If Ong
Khan had been leading the attack, he might have had a chance. He drew his
sword again and flashed it above him. “Temujin never surrenders, Temujin dies
only in battle!”
Jamuka rose to his feet. “You surrendered in the past, when you were weaker
than you are now. You give the spoils of war to your soldiers, telling them it
belongs to them, not to the whole tribe. In this, again the clan leaders say you do
wrong. It’s against our traditions.”
“But it pleases my young fighters! The clan leaders claim they cannot keep it
because they want it for themselves. Such traditions make the fighters angry.
Who do we need more? Brave soldiers or greedy, stupid clan leaders?”
“Brother, you have always acted alone, as if you didn’t need the help or
advice of the other clan leaders. You have also been sending messengers to
persuade my soldiers to surrender and join you, promising them riches, that the
livestock won’t be shared among all the people of the tribe. Did you think I was
blind to what you have been doing?”
Now you know that, we can never be reconciled, Temujin thought to himself.
He removed a small pouch from inside his shirt and threw it at Jamuka. “The
gifts you gave me on the three separate occasions we swore our loyalty to each
other. Have them back. That way, when you cut your blade here,” he said,
drawing his finger across his neck, “you will be killing your enemy and not your
brother.” He paused, sighed and continued. “I am a hero, you are a hero. The
steppe may be vast, but it’s not big enough for two such as us.”
Jamuka picked up the bag, reached for his own and placed it in silence at
Temujin’s feet. He then turned and walked back down the hill.
Temujin watched as he left. He stood for a long time without saying anything.
He then took up Jamuka’s bag and tipped out the stones and arrowheads of their
childhood. He still remembered the games they had played. He then scratched a
hole in the dirt with a dagger and buried his brother’s gifts.
Guo Jing stood beside him. He understood the significance of the moment.
Temujin was burying his most precious friendship.
The Great Khan stood up and looked out at the scene below. As far as the eye
could see, Senggum and Jamuka’s men had lit fires. It was as if the stars in the
sky were being reflected across the grasslands. He turned to Guo Jing. “Are you
afraid?”
“I was thinking about my ma,” Guo Jing answered.