Before the people of the steppes were united, a warrior would ride far to find a bride. The Olkhunut clan was renowned for the beauty of its women, and Chiledu sought across all the empty grasslands til he found their camp. He chose a fierce beauty to be his wife, and her family was pleased to have a strong son-in-law from the powerful Merkit clan. They feasted until late, and she spent her first night as a woman in his bed, showing no fear when came to make her his wife, opening her legs to him without struggle. In the morning, Chiledu hitched her wagon behind an ox, and they rode north with his fast bay mare tethered behind the wagon.
His wife, Hoelun, rode in the back, resting on thick furs, hidden behind the heavy felt walls as the wagon rolled and lurched and swayed across the steppe. The summer sun beat down on the heavy felt, and it grew stifling inside. Hoelun bore it as well as she could, but when they made camp that night under the stars, she asked Chiledu if he would not prefer to ride his mare and allow her to drive the wagon. Chiledu knew this was against tradition, but he felt how hot and miserable she was inside the wagon. If they came across anyone else on the steppe, she would hide until they passed. Her second night as a woman, Hoelun spent under the stars, languid as he gently caressed and sweetly took her.
She drove the wagon across the steppe, and Chiledu galloped ahead, and then trotted back to tell what he had seen over the next rise. She smiled at the pleasure and pride he took in his horse, and blushed when he walked the mare beside the wagon to look at her with the same delight. Then she would point out little things to him, the cooling breeze, the lavender blossoms in the feathergrass, or a hawk wheeling high in the distance ahead of them.
As the afternoon grew hotter, they came to the deep valley of the Onon river. The grass gave way to trees as they descended into the valley, and the breeze disappeared. Chiledu rode ahead to find the best path for the wagon through the trees, and Hoelun unwrapped the long sash that tied her brightly colored robe. She slipped the robe off and folded it carefully in the back of the wagon, and drove on in just a white silk shift. When Chiledu returned, his face lit up at the sight of her bared arms and shoulders, and the silk clinging to her. He guided the mare to walk close beside the wagon, and said very little, admiring his wild, beautiful wife.
On the ridge above them, another shared his admiration. Yesugai was a chief's son, raised in a lawless time. He was young and full of fire, a good leader in a dangerous time, and already had won the loyalty and respect of the other young Mongols. He sat in the shadow of a tall pine, and his eyes never left the lush beauty driving the slow wagon. By the standards of the steppe, she was practically naked, and her long, black hair hung unbound across her back. This savage angel had only a lone warrior with her, who seemed as captivated by her as Yesugai was. When the wagon vanished from sight beneath a screen of leaves, Yesugai turned and began to ride back towards his camp.
There was no law on the steppe, then, and the only rules were survival and strength. Yesugai was a proud young man, and impulsive, but not foolish. The wagon was slow, and his brothers were not far. He raced into their camp, shouting for two more swords, calling "I have found my wife! I have found her! I must claim my bride!"
Two of his brothers were with him, galloping across the steppe back towards the Onon valley. They were fierce raiders as well, and they grinned as they raced to help Yesugai claim his bride. They even wondered at his choice, for among the Mongols, a man only had one wife to bear him heirs. He could keep as many women as he could afford, if he chose, but a wife was chosen with care. Yesugai had women that he had captured on raids already, but whenever the subject of marriage came up, he had shrugged and smiled. His brothers were nearly as eager to see this woman who had captured his heart as he was to claim hers.
Hoelun heard the approaching hoofbeats a moment before her husband. She turned to look and saw three of them, galloping down into the valley, bows in hand, ready to fight. Chiledu saw the shock in her eyes and looked back, and his face turned white. There was no doubting their purpose, and he held his hand up to her to help her onto the horse with him.
"Two of us can't outrun them on one horse," his bride said. She reached down and pulled her shift over her head, pushing it into his reaching hand. "They will not kill me. Ride hard, if you get the chance to take them one by one, come back for me. If not, remember me when you breathe this."
