Maragha—in modern Azerbaijan—February 1265
Maragha—in modern Azerbaijan—February 1265Chinkai’s body was as cold as the dawn.
Thierry gritted his teeth at the volume of spilled blood, knowing that he would never grow used to the killing.
The first light of dawn did nothing to warm the air, though the meager illumination revealed the pallor of the old warrior’s skin. Chinkai had been dead for some hours, perhaps since the previous evening. Thierry recalled that the older man had left the khan’s funeral celebrations and not returned. It had not seemed of import then.
’Twas beyond doubt that Chinkai had been murdered. The copious quantity of dried blood staining his kalat revealed that his end had been violent, never mind the vicious s***h across his throat. Indeed, it seemed the old warri
