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As dawn breaks over a moveable city 
of ten thousand yurts,

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Queen Boraqchin is in 
for a rude awakening.

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A rogue sheep has slipped past her 
servants and guards

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and bolted into her yurt,

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where he springs into bed 
and bleats in her ear.

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Although she’s the formidable khatun 
of the Golden Horde,

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a huge kingdom in the Mongolian Empire,

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Boraqchin has a hands-on 
approach to ruling.

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She’s been married to Batu Khan,

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the fearsome grandson 
of Genghis Khan himself,

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since she was fifteen –

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and while her husband is out on his raids,

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she juggles the duties of flocks, 
family and empire at home.

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This makes her the manager – 
and the mover – of a city of thousands.

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Twice a year, Boraqchin moves the city 
between two seasonal camping grounds.

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This ensures constant water 
and lush grass in summer,

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and protection from harsh winds in winter.

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The whole operation requires 
weeks of strict planning,

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liaising with the other camps in her 
domain, strategic delegation –

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and the patience to move at the speed 
of dawdling animals.

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Today is moving day,

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and she’ll have to direct throngs of her
ladies, commanders, slaves and animals

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up the river Volga for the summer.

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As Boraqchin steps outside,

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she’s greeted by a commotion –

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her unwanted visitor is now running 
circles around her stewards.

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They’re attempting to stow her possessions
securely into wagons.

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Boraqchin orders them 
to get it under control –

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but she’s the only one quick 
enough to catch the stray.

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She next supervises her ladies who are
unpinning her yurt

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and lifting it onto its special wagon.

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It requires a team of twenty oxen to pull,

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and Boraqchin wouldn’t trust anyone 
to steer it but herself.

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Next, Boraqchin and her woolly companion 
meet with the guards.

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She orders them to keep close watch

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on her husband's special reception yurt 
and port-able throne during the journey.

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They’ll also act as outriders,

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and she tells them 
how to secure the route,

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surround her for safety –

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and keep the animals in check.

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But when the sheep finally breaks free 
and makes for the fields,

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the guards can barely keep up

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as it scampers through crowds 
packing up their own yurts.

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Exasperated, Boraqchin rides down 
to the pastures herself.

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When she gets there,

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she catches sight of the troublesome sheep
wriggling into the middle of a flock.

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When she follows him in,

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he’s nestled next to a ewe, his mother.

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She’s pregnant,
and seems to be in pain.

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With a start, Boraqchin realizes 
that this ewe’s impending delivery

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has been forgotten in 
the flurry of moving day.

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There’s no time to find a shepherd –

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instead, Boraqchin rolls up her sleeves, 
greases her arm

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and helps the ewe give birth to two new 
additions to the empire.

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Leaving the lambs and their mother,

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Boraqchin dashes back to camp.

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Here the final touches have been put to packing, 
and vehicles are starting to line up.

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This vast procession starts with the queen

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and two hundred wagons 
filled with her treasures.

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Next up are the junior wives and crew,

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then the concubines –

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and this is only Boraqchin's camp.

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After this comes the second imperial camp

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led by another senior wife,

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then two more camps, 
also led by capable wives.

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Boraqchin has been checking in 
with them for weeks

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to ensure a smooth departure 
and orderly queue.

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But they only make up the 
royal portion of the line –

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behind them winds 
the entire civilian city,

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which includes holy men 
with portable chapels and mosques,

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families, tradesmen, and shepherds.

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Finally, Boraqchin settles into her wagon.

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It’ll take weeks to reach 
their destination –

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but over the course of the journey,

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she’ll keep everyone expertly in check –

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from her proud children 
and attentive subjects,

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to the most meandering sheep 
at the back of line.