It wasn't the type of blanket commonly seen in Herder homes, with fur and hide intact, but a blanket woven from wool.
The woolen blanket slowly unfurled in the center of the felt tent, as long and wide as a man, with a map embroidered with golden thread on top.
A map—this was no trifling matter.
Nowadays, with the tribal territories limited, maps were memorized mentally; there was no need to transcribe them.
And the large maps from the era of Khan Queye had always been treasured by the tribal chieftains, hidden away as precious secrets not to be shared with outsiders.
"Open the roof hole!" Grey Eyes ordered the guard outside the tent.
The leather covering the tent was removed, and sunlight poured into the felt tent, illuminating the map.
The chieftains gathered around the map, being very careful not to step on it.
"Isn't this Gālán Lake?" a chieftain squinted and asked, pointing to a corner of the map.
