Altan released the pressure of his hands on the man's neck. The half-suffocated Mongolian horseman coughed several times before he could breathe normally. His terror was reflected in his eyes; he knew that his life was in the hands of his unknown enemy, who had knocked him off his horse out of the shadows, had squeezed his neck until he made him confess what he had learned in the village. Sure enough, Baatar's henchmen had an informant in the last village Orghana's caravan had passed through, and this informant had communicated to the rider his suspicions about the lady and her purposes. When Altan asked the prisoner if the informant had narrated his suspicions to someone else, the answer had been negative. Simply, no one had passed through the village since the travelers led by Khulan wer
