Conn Iggulden is the acclaimed author of the Emperor novels, which chronicle the life of Julius Caesar: EMPEROR: THE GATES OF ROME, EMPEROR: THE DEATH OF KINGS, EMPEROR: THE FIELD OF SWORDS, and EMPEROR: THE GODS OF WAR, all of which are available in paperback from Dell. He is also the author of the bestselling nonfiction work THE DANGEROUS BOOK FOR BOYS. He lives with his wife and two children in Hertfordshire, England.

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AUTHOR TALK

May 4, 2007

Conn Iggulden is no stranger to historical fiction --- he is the author of the acclaimed Emperor series, which consists of four books chronicling the life of Julius Caesar. In this Author Talk, Iggulden describes his first trip to Mongolia while researching the landscape and the main character of his latest work, GENGHIS: BIRTH OF AN EMPIRE. He shares his experiences attempting to communicate via mime gestures, becoming afflicted with his very first saddle sores prior to driving cross country in a jeep, and relishing in day-to-day activities with locals.

The Footsteps of Genghis

Writing a historical fiction series on Genghis Khan was always going to be a challenge. Mongolia is an alien place, with a hard climate, grinding poverty, rabies and bubonic plague. To write his story, I needed a thousand small details I could not find in books. I had to see the place where Genghis formed a nation.

I arrived at Ulaan Baatar airport with a rucksack weighing almost as much as I did. Coming out, I put it down and wondered if I should perhaps have planned some part of the trip. As I was thinking this, a man with immense shoulders picked up my rucksack and walked swiftly away with it.

"I've been robbed!" I thought. "I've only been here ten minutes!" I followed him and eventually discovered he was a taxi-driver, cheerfully denying a fare to all the other taxi-drivers.

The landscape around the city is a cold and dismal plain with distant figures wandering on it. The taxi rocketed along a road with enough potholes to bang my head on the roof whenever I said the word, 'Hotel?'

Not that he understood. The second language in Mongolia is Russian. For the next three days, I would become a sort of frustrated mime artist.

The fare was five US dollars at the airport, then ten dollars when he dropped me in a lunar landscape with a single, run-down building. I gave him a twenty dollar bill and to my amazement, he drove off. That was the first time I realised the Mongolians have no interest in their own currency if dollars are available instead.

Eventually I found a guide who spoke English. Up to that point, the hotel staff and I had many conversations where no-one understood a word. Borrowing a towel became a real test of endurance. My guide and I agreed on a fee (in dollars) to take me out into the wilderness and put me on a pony. He would pick me up at 9:30 on Monday morning.

At 9am, a taxi arrived and the receptionist waved goodbye to me. I explained hopelessly that I didn't think it could be for me, but she continued waving until I left. The driver set off, at which point I realised I had no idea where we were going. Have you ever tried to mime, 'Where are we going?' It involves great sweeps with your hands at the windscreen. The driver seemed to think I was exercising. It was only when I remembered the name of the tour company that his face lit up.

"Juulchin?" I said.

"Juulchin!" he replied, happily. He drove me to their offices and I arrived just as they came to pick me up at the hotel. It turned out that the taxi driver was just looking for a fare, having heard about the foreigner who handed over twenty dollars at a time.

I've always disliked horses. At 6ft 2, my arrival at stables always results in a huge beast being brought out, a monster of an animal with a name like 'Satan' or 'Certain Paralysis'. In Mongolia, however, they have ponies so small I could practically put my legs down when I was fatigued. As a result, I enjoyed it, though I discovered what 'saddle-sores' actually are and why they should be avoided.

If I had to do it again, I wouldn't plan a trip where saddle-sores came before cross-country driving in a jeep, almost more than my poor buttocks could take. You can't really describe the journey as a road trip, because there weren't any, just vast, grassy valleys that looked suspiciously like Wales. If I'd known that before I set out, I might have considered going to the Brecon Beacons instead.

Mongolians delight in welcoming strangers and I stayed with many families, drank vodka and played sheep knuckle-bones with their children. I didn't bathe for three weeks because the altitude meant I hardly sweated and dirt just crumbled off my skin. I think I became a little gamey towards the end, but they didn't seem to mind.

Mongolia exists today because Russia and China don't want to share a border. Despite its flaws, it is extraordinarily beautiful and the people are the ancestors of the Native American tribes. By the time I returned, I had glimpsed a place almost untouched by the modern world --- the sort of land that could give birth to Genghis Khan. His life is an incredible tale of hardship and triumph. I only hope to do it justice.

© Copyright 2007 by Delacorte Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved.

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