In the late twelfth century, across the sweeping Mongolian grasslands, brilliant, charismatic Temujin ascends to power, declaring himself the Great, or Genghis, Khan. But it is the women who stand beside him who ensure his triumph....   After her mother foretells an ominous future for her, gifted Borte becomes an outsider within her clan. When she seeks comfort in the arms of aristocratic traveler Jamuka, she discovers he is the blood brother of Temujin, the man who agreed to marry her and then abandoned her long before they could wed.   Temujin will return and make Borte his queen, yet it will take many women to safeguard his fragile new kingdom. Their daughter, the fierce Alaqai, will ride and shoot an arrow as well as any man. Fatima, an elegant Persian captive, will transform her desire for revenge into an unbreakable loyalty. And Sorkhokhtani, a demure widow, will position her sons to inherit the empire when it begins to fracture from within. In a world lit by fire and ruled by the sword, the tiger queens of Genghis Khan come to depend on one another as they fight and love, scheme and sacrifice, all for the good of their family...and the greatness of the People of the Felt Walls. Praise for The Tiger Queens “A gripping epic…Kept me riveted from beginning to end!”—Michelle Moran, bestselling author of The Second Empress   “It is a testament to Thornton’s writing prowess that she can so intricately whittle heroines that are both compassionate and ruthless…a stunning achievement!”—Barbara Wood, New York Times bestselling author of The Serpent and the Staff and Rainbows on the Moon   “Be prepared to be swept away by Thornton’s richly drawn epic of an empire.”—Renée Rosen, author of Dollface and What the Lady Wants   “Historical fiction at its best.”—Gary Corby, author of The Marathon Conspiracy   “A vivid depiction of warrior women…Gripping stuff!”—Alex Rutherford, author of the Empire of the Moghul series Praise for the novels of Stephanie Thornton “Thornton’s heroines...make me want to stand up and cheer!”—Kate Quinn, author of Lady of the Eternal City                                                                                                                                     "This is the kind of book that grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go. A remarkable story, remarkably told." —Kate Furnivall, author of Shadows on the Nile and The Russian Concubine “Well-conceived and engrossing...exalts a historical figure of ‘true grit.’”— Library Journal   “Exquisitely crafted....I couldn’t put it down.”— San Francisco Book Review Stephanie Thornton is the author of The Secret History and  Daughter of the Gods . She is also a history teacher who has been obsessed with infamous women from ancient history since she was twelve. She lives with her husband and daughter in Alaska, where she is at work on her next novel. ALSO BY STEPHANIE THORNTON Prologue Our names have long been lost to time, scattered like ashes into the wind. No one remembers our ability to read the secrets of the oracle bones or the wars fought in our names. The words we wrote have faded from their parchments; the sacrifices we made are no longer recounted in the glittering courts of those we conquered. The deeds of our husbands, our brothers, and our sons have eclipsed our own as surely as when the moon ate the sun during the first battle of Nishapur. Yet without us, there would have been no empire for our men to claim, no clan of the Thirteen Hordes left to lead, and no tales of victory to sing to the Eternal Blue Sky. It was our destiny to love these men, to suffer their burdens and shoulder their sorrows, to bring them into this world, red-faced and squalling, and tuck their bones into the earth when they abandoned us for the sacred mountains, leaving us behind to fight their wars and protect their Spirit Banners. We gathered our strength from the water of the northern lakes, the fire of the south’s Great Dry Sea, the brown earth of the western mountains, and the wild air of the eastern steppes. Born of the four directions, we cleaved together like the seasons for our very survival. In a world lit by fire and ruled by the sword, we depended upon one another for the very breath we drew. Even as the steppes ran with blood and storm clouds roiled overhead, we loved our husbands, our brothers, and our sons. And we loved one another, the fierce love of mothers and sisters and daughters, born from our shared laughter and tears as our souls were woven together, stronger than the thickest felts. And yet nothing lasts forever. One by one, our souls were gathered into the Eternal Blue Sky, our tents dismantled, and our herds scattered across the steppes. That is a tale yet to come. It matters not how we died. Only one thing matters: that we lived. Part I Chapter 1 1171 CE YEAR OF THE IRON HARE He came in the autumn of my tenth year, when the crisp air entices horses to race and the white cranes fly toward the