day, become as my father put it:
“Lord Bataarkhan and the camels of Kulamak!”
“Really papa? Do you really believe so?”
“Well, Khan, if you have been actually paying attention to everything I have taught you, then
yes! You can grow up to be like my father, his father before mine, or even me!” he smiled then,
and I could see how honest that smile was.
“Yes papa, that is what I want, more than anything, to become like you”.
His eyes reddened and he hugged me. He had been doing that a lot recently and instead of
wondering or worrying, I just accepted it. Nothing was wrong. All was well.
How wrong I was.
A few weeks later, a tall man crossed our short yurt threshold.
I was sitting next to Mama, helping her sow some beads onto a new vest she was making for me
since winter was getting closer. He sat himself on papa’s tweed mat! I frowned. Where was Papa?
He came in a few seconds later, his arms carrying firewood. How rude! I thought. The tall man
didn’t offer to help! The man noticed me frowning and he smiled, showing a bright, golden tooth.
To cut the long story short, the man had terrible manners and it looked as though Papa
already knew him. After a quick meal that Mama cooked, I was sent outside so that the grown-
ups could talk.
I was called back in to see Mama crying, telling me that I didn’t have do if I didn’t want to. When
I asked what she was talking about, the tall man turned to me and said: “Well, glad you asked.
It’s the opportunity for you to become Lord Bataarkhan and have all the camels you want!”
I had immediately made my decision. I was going to make Papa proud.
The first months with Gold-tooth, who I later learnt was called Temur Arslan which meant
iron-lion, were tough. I was given very little time for myself and very little food, which didn’t
taste a bit as good as Mama’s.
Master Arslan wasn’t nearly as good as Papa was with me. He didn’t give me a chance to make
a mistake when reciting my duties. He would lash at me and send me to my tent without dinner
and then I’d have latrine duty. One time when I forgot to feed Airag, one of my favorite camels,
Arslan tied my hands to the end of a rope and pulled me along, him riding a camel and me
walking behind, the boiling sand blistering my feet.
I cried almost every night right before going to sleep, the cool night breeze cradling me to
sleep. I was on the verge of quitting so many times, but I didn’t. I never did, because I couldn’t
stand the look my father would have on his face if I came back home. He would be disappointed.
So I steeled myself and I held out on as long as I could.
The only thing that kept me going, was feeding the camels. I had to wake up a few hours before
sunrise, while the rest of the company slept off under the remaining influence of the previous
night’s alcohol. I went out of the tent barefoot, so as to not make any noise and also because I loved
the feeling of the dew-kissed, oasis grass under my feet. This was when the sun started peeping out
between the curtains of stars and clouds, painting the sky with strokes of light. I always looked up
into the sky and smiled, silently waving farewell to the warriors and hoping that Mama and Papa
were looking up at the sky at the same time, and I felt like I was with them.
Months and years passed after that and I attained power, popularity and control. I went up
the ranks in Arslan’s caravan until I was right below him. I had nine camels under my command,
ones I had chosen. I had acquired great wealth and a long curtain of free, dark hair that I never
tied up and hadn’t cut since I had joined the caravan. It made me feel authoritative. I seldom
