Finding the Traitor

The weight of leadership presses down on you. As the sun rises, casting its golden hue on the vast expanse of the steppe, you contemplate the previous events, your mind racing to piece together the puzzle. Remembering how the Baatar warriors waited in perfect formation, something feels out of place. This is how you scare off a minor cattle raid, not how you confront an heir to a Khanate marching right into your hands.

They could have easily ambushed and captured — or killed — your entire party. But they didn’t. Their intent was clear: to humiliate you while avoiding a battle with your vengeful father. Why?

You mull over the lieutenants who were present at the raid. Is there one among them who has a tenable claim to the throne if you were removed from the picture? An unsettling notion takes root: what if this isn’t about a single man with loose lips but an entire conspiracy to undermine your authority and disqualify you from your rightful inheritance? Perhaps all your spies remained loyal, and someone else tipped the Baatar off.

Addressing this delicately is essential. Confronting suspected spies outright would only breed more dissent and treachery. Instead, you decide on misdirection. Summoning all your spies, you reward them for their "good service" while secretly putting them under strict surveillance. It’s a game of patience and strategy, letting them believe they’ve pulled the wool over your eyes. Should any conspirators emerge, their false sense of victory might just be their undoing.

Meanwhile, you rake your brain, pondering over those who might profit from your failure. The obvious suspect is Jhaqo, your eldest half-brother, the most immediate threat to your inheritance. But no, it can’t be him. Jhaqo, for all his faults, is as transparent as the clear waters of the steppe. He lacks the guile for such deceit.

Then your mind wanders to the women in your father’s life. While your mother holds the title of his primary wife, six other women warm his bed at night, serving him sexually as slaves or concubines. Could one of them hope to elevate her child above you? To place her son on the throne?

And then there’s Turag, your uncle, your father’s younger brother. After you and your half-brothers, he’s next in line. And you remember — he rode alongside you during that raid, didn’t he? His presence then, so close to the heart of the action, fills you with unease. The answer may be closer to home than you’d like.

You assign a set of your most discreet warriors to keep tabs on your uncle during hunts, raids, or any other group activities. Uncle Turag, with that unmistakable scar slashing across his face, stands as a testament to battles fought and challenges faced.

He’s a middle-aged man, only a handful of years younger than your father, yet he’s always been one step behind, forever in the shadow of his elder brother’s achievements. Though he’s a masterful horseman and possesses a cunning mind, he has never quite reached the pinnacle of power.

Can proximity to power, without ever truly grasping it, drive a man to treachery? You ponder the question, the doubt gnawing at your resolve. "Is that enough to push him over the edge?"

And so, you strategize on the best way to unearth the truth, to determine your uncle’s innocence or guilt.