Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Borjigin paced his chambers. The search for his daughter floundered.
His men had turned up no information other than a jade necklace she had sold in Carth, the deel she had discarded in an alley, and hundreds of roads she could have taken.
Borjigin suspected she had gone toward France.
How far could she have gotten on her own without being sighted?
He had a constant stream of messengers going to and from his scouts, but it was difficult and slow to communicate at such a distance.
He had to decide how to act: how to find his daughter, how to deal with Timicin.
He needed counsel. His wife provided comfort.
His father had provided guidance. But in times of deepest contemplation, it was his ninety-year-old mother, Celine, who provided Borjigin with a different perspective. Especially when it came to Eve.
He walked through the halls of the large manor—crafted by his father in the style of the French palaces—and took the steps to her chamber.
Celine and her culture had been very influential on his father, his family, and the clan.
The great man had done everything to make Celine feel at home.
He built not only the manor but the city where many clans settled when they weren’t with the herds.
He insisted his sons and their sons spoke French, so she could always have conversations in her native language.
Borjigin’s father was also the first in their line to marry only one woman.
Borjigin, too, married only one woman. These were blessed unions. Borjigin couldn’t imagine another way.
Celine had flourished, and, likewise, she had embraced the culture. Though she’d been born French and had the look of a westerner, for all intents and purposes, she was a Mongolian woman.
Borjigin knocked on her heavy wooden door, and when she called him in, he entered his mother’s chambers.
The furnishings of the room were of their eastern heritage—orange-colored trunks and drawers, an intricate box daybed with brightly patterned blankets—though the finely carved wooden structure of the building itself was in the Western style.
Mother sat on a cushioned seat by the fire, mending the waistband on one of her deels.
Her white hair was braided down her back.
Only light wrinkles showed in her face. Her mind continued to be as sharp as ever.
“Mother,” Borjigin spoke, “you do not have to do the mending.” He came to sit on the traditional rug on the floor before her. The room was lit by the fire, the last light of day coming through the windows. “One of the boys’ wives can do it.”
“No, no,” she said. “It keeps my fingers nimble. It’s good for me.” She smiled, stitching along the pattern. “Now tell me, what do you come here to discuss?”
“You know of the tragedy with Eve.”
“Yes,” she said. Borjigin could see her expression darken, pain coloring her light eyes, the color of his and Eve’s.
“I have sent guards. I have sent the fastest horses,” he said. “We have infiltrated the West as though we were conquering. Still, I cannot locate her.” He paused. “And there are other complications.”
“Yes?” She looked up at him from her mending.
“The one they call Ganbold is after her.”
She pursed her lips. “Has Timicin called him off?”
“Timicin says he did not send him out.”
“Borjigin, son.” She pulled a thread taut. Outside came sounds of the pasture, bleats from the herds, clanging of bells. “I know you do not wish to hear what I am going to say,” she continued. “I have been saying it for years.”
“It is archaic, I know, to steal a bride.” He sighed heavily. “I just didn’t think it could happen to our family. To her.”
“It is horrifying. But men continue to do it.” Mother gave him a stare, the air darkening around her.
“It goes back to the ancients. Some of the greatest unions in our lineage were formed this way.”
She scoffed. She cut him off with a raised hand. “It is a young tribe practice. The young tribes wish to force the alliances rather than earn them.”
“It is difficult to deter, Mother. It is seen as a way to balance the tribes.” He took a breath in through his nose, calibrating. “I must consider all the clans and their practices, not just what we want. Besides,” he continued, “many women consider it to be an honor to be stolen, I’ve been told.”
She looked at him, aghast. “By whom? The men who stole them?” She clicked her tongue. “My, my, Borjigin, I thought you to be much wiser than this.”
He settled back, thinking of the politics of it all. “It will ignite war among the tribes if I move to punish the offense.”
“We are not afraid of war,” she said, plunging the needle back into her deel. “Sometimes only conflict can restore balance.”
He nodded. “Yes. War is not always avoidable.” Borjigin sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Regardless, whatever I do now does not bring Eve home to us.”
His mother softened. She looped the thread and tied a knot.
“Eve can survive in any land, in any season,” she asserted.
She took her small knife, a tremor of age settling long enough for her to cut the thread.
“I don’t agree that it is her fault for being kidnapped, but she was living a life with no direction, a thread left to be tied.
” She held the string in her hands up as evidence.
“As your daughter, she has the responsibility to contribute to the tribe through an alliance or some other commitment. Her refusal brought this notice.”
“I agree,” he said, feeling his own spirit very heavy.
“I believe that if she has managed to evade everyone for this long, including Ganbold…” She paused to press her lips together. “Then she has found a protector. You know as well as I do that Ganbold is a bull and will not stop.”
She placed the needle in the pin cushion and adjusted the garment to catch the light.
“If Ganbold is the closest to her, focus on him. He is strong, but not smart. He will not cover his presence well, not like Eve.” She struggled once to tie a knot but got it on the second pass.
“Let his two eyes stay on her, but put a thousand eyes on him.” She snapped the thread.
“I hope we find her before darkness does,” Borjigin said, his thoughts wandering west, out the window.
“You have raised Eve to be a leader of men. She will not stop leading them now, son,” she said as she dropped her mending and took Borjigin’s hand. “I believe she is safe. As safe as she can be.”