The pony chosen for the task raised its head at the sound, snorting once more and flicking its ears. It knew the sound of saddle bells meant it would run fast and far. Kublai watched the rider kick in his heels and canter under the arch, out into the waking city. He rubbed his neck, feeling the stiffness there. He had done his part. Torogene was awake and weeping when Sorhatani arrived at her rooms. The Guards at the door let her pass with no more than a glance at her expression.

'You have heard?' Torogene asked.

Sorhatani opened her arms and the older woman came into her embrace. Larger than Sorhatani, her arms came fully round her, so that they clung to one another.

'I'm just going to the gardens,' Torogene said. She was shuddering with grief, close to collapse. 'His Guards are standing over…him there, waiting for me.'

'I must speak to you first,' Sorhatani said.

Torogene shook her head.

'Afterwards. I cannot leave him out there alone.'

Sorhatani weighed her chances of stopping Torogene and gave up.

'Let me walk with you,' she said.

The two women moved quickly along the corridors that led to the open gardens, Torogene's guards and servants falling behind. As they walked, Sorhatani heard Torogene choke into her hands and the sound tore at her own control. She too had lost a husband and the wound was still fresh, ripped open by the news of the khan's passing. She had the unpleasant sensation of events slipping beyond her control. How long would it be before Chagatai heard his brother had fallen at last? How long after that would he come to Karakorum to challenge for the khanate? If he moved quickly, he could bring an army before Guyuk could come home.

Sorhatani lost track of the corners and turns in the palace until she and Torogene felt the breeze on their faces and the gardens lay before them through a cloister. The torches of the Guards still lit the spot, though dawn had come. Torogene gave a cry and broke into a run. Sorhatani stayed with her, knowing she could not interrupt.

As they reached the stone bench, Sorhatani stood rooted, letting Torogene cross the last few steps to her husband. The Guards stood in mute anger, unable to see an enemy, but consumed with the failure of their office.

Ogedai had been turned to face the sky by whoever had found him. His eyes had been closed and he lay in the perfect stillness of death, his flesh as white as if he had no blood in him. Sorhatani rubbed tears from her eyes as Torogene knelt at his side and brushed his hair back with her hand. She did not speak, or weep. Instead, she sat on her heels and looked down at him for a long time. The breeze passed through them all and the gardens rustled. Somewhere close, a bird called, but Torogene did not look up or move from the spot.

Yao Shu arrived in the silence, still in his sleeping robe and with a face almost as pale as his master's. He seemed to age and shrink as he looked on the fallen khan. He did not speak. The silence was too deep for that. In misery, he stood as one of the sentinel shadows in the garden. The sun rose slowly and more than one man looked at it almost in hatred, as if its light and life were not welcome there.

As the morning light turned the city a bloody gold, Sorhatani stepped forward at last and took Torogene gently by the arm.

'Come away now,' she murmured. 'Let them take him to be laid out.'

Torogene shook her head and Sorhatani bent closer to her, whispering into her ear.

'Put aside your pain for today. You must think of your son, Guyuk. You hear me, Torogene? You must be strong. You must shed your tears for Ogedai another day if your son is to survive.'

Torogene blinked slowly and began to shake her head, once, then twice, as she listened. Tears came from under her closed eyelids and she reached down and kissed Ogedai on the lips, shuddering under Sorhatani's hand at the terrible coldness of him. She would never feel his warmth, his arms around her again. She reached out to touch the hands, rubbing her fingers over the fresh calluses there. They would not heal now. Then she stood.

'Come with me,' Sorhatani said softly, as if to a frightened animal. 'I will make you tea and find you something to eat. You must keep up your strength, Torogene.'

Torogene nodded and Sorhatani led her back through the cloister to her own rooms. She looked back almost at every step, until the garden hid her view of Ogedai. The servants ran ahead to have tea ready as they arrived.

The two women swept into Sorhatani's rooms. Sorhatani saw the Guards were taking positions on her door and realised they too were without direction. The death of the khan had taken away the established order and they seemed almost lost.

'I have orders for you,' she said on impulse. The men straightened. 'Send a runner to your commander, Alkhun. Tell him to come to these rooms immediately.'

'Your will, mistress,' the Guard said, bowing his head. He set off and Sorhatani told her servants to leave. The tea urn was already beginning to steam and she needed to be alone with Ogedai's wife.

As she closed the doors, Sorhatani saw how Torogene sat staring, stunned with grief. She bustled about, deliberately making noise with the cups. The tea was not fully hot, but it would have to do. She hated herself for intruding on a private grief, but there was no help for it. Her mind had been throwing sparks from the moment she had woken to find Kublai standing beside her. Some part of her had known even before he spoke.

'Torogene? I have sent a runner to Guyuk. Are you listening? I am truly sorry for what has happened. Ogedai…' She choked off as her own grief threatened to overwhelm her. She too had loved the khan, but she forced the sadness away once again, pressing it into a closed part of her mind so that she could go on.

'He was a good man, Torogene. My son Kublai has sent a letter to Guyuk, with the yam riders. He says it will not reach him for months. I do not suppose Guyuk will return as quickly.'

Torogene looked up suddenly. Her eyes were terrible.

'Why would he not come home, to me?' she said, her voice raw.

'Because by then he will know that his uncle Chagatai could be in the city with his tumans, Torogene. Chagatai will hear the news faster and he is far closer than Tsubodai's armies. By the time Guyuk returns, Chagatai could be khan. No, listen to me now. At that point, I would not give a copper coin for your son's life. Those are the stakes, Torogene. Put aside your grief now and listen to counsel.'

The sound of boots on the stones outside made them both look up. The senior minghaan of the khan's Guards entered the room in full armour. He bowed briefly to the two women, unable to hide his irritation at such a summons. Sorhatani glanced at him without warmth. Alkhun may not have realised how power had shifted in the palace since dawn, but she had.

'I do not wish to intrude on your grief,' Alkhun said. 'You will both understand that my place is with the Guard tuman, keeping order. Who knows how the city will react when the news spreads. There could be riots. If you will excuse me…'

'Be silent!' Sorhatani snapped. Alkhun froze in amazement, but she did not give him time to think and realise his error. 'Would you walk in on the khan without so much as a knock on the door? Then why show less honour to us? How dare you interrupt?'

'I was…summoned,' Alkhun stammered, his face flushing. It was many years since anyone had raised a voice to him in anger. Sheer surprise made him hesitate.

Sorhatani spoke slowly, with complete confidence.

'I have title to the ancestral lands, minghaan. There is but one in the nation senior to me. She sits here.' Sorhatani saw Torogene was staring at her in bewilderment, but went on. 'Until Guyuk arrives in Karakorum, his mother is regent. If it is not obvious to even the least of men, I decree it from this moment.'