The Milestone Protocol, Ernest Dempsey [100 best novels of all time txt] 📗

said. Use the bodies of your dead in your siege machines. It won't be long before the Genoese and their allies are gone."

"I will issue the orders immediately."

The stranger's eyes narrowed at the sudden subordination, then spun to leave. The second the visitor turned their back, Jani Beg swiveled his hips. His loose grip on the dagger allowed it to whip across the room at a deadly pace.

He knew he'd risked much when he attempted to kill the visitor. Before, the robed figure had moved so quickly, he hadn't had time to react until the knife was at his throat. Now, however, with their back to him, he had his chance to teach them a lethal lesson. No one threatened the Khan.

The stranger heard the sudden movement, but only managed to turn fast enough to face the flung dagger as it sank into the figure’s abdomen just above the stomach. Instead of fear or confusion, the eyes that glowered back from under the hood merely displayed anger. The figure stepped forward, brandishing the blade from before. The second step brought a wince to the gray eyes. The right knee buckled, but still the attacker came. A third stride brought the assailant to their knees. The figure clutched the blade’s handle as though they might still attack, but Jani Beg could see it now. It was the same look his siblings had in their eyes after he killed them. The vapid, absent stare encroached into the once cunning gaze as death wrapped its bony fingers around slumping shoulders.

He'd seen that look in many men's eyes. And he knew he would see it again, perhaps many times, until the day of his demise. He swore he would not let that haunting stare take hold of him.

The figure's lips trembled, intent on delivering one last message to the Khan. "You fool," the voice hissed. "You have no idea what you've done."

"I killed an assassin," Jani Beg replied. He cautiously stepped forward. Blood from the stranger's lips soaked into the mask covering their face.

"No. You have risked the end of humanity."

The figure teetered for a moment, as if fighting for balance. Then the visitor fell over onto their side. Any grip their eyes had on this reality vanished as they stared vacantly toward the yurt's wall.

Jani Beg sighed through his nose and walked over to the body. He flipped back the hood with the tip of his sword and discovered the assassin was a woman. Long locks of golden hair were knotted into a single braid tucked into the folds of the robe. His face tightened, and he pulled the mask down from the woman's face. She was beautiful. Her thin red lips contrasted against the smooth olive skin of her face. He noticed something behind her ear and cocked his head to the examine a strange tattoo. The shape of it looked almost like a Christian cross, but with a teardrop at the top of it instead of a straight stem.

He puzzled at the symbol, thinking he'd seen it before, perhaps in his studies. A flash of something shiny distracted him from the tattoo, and he turned his attention to the woman's neck where a black leather strap circled to her upper chest.

The Khan eyed the silver necklace with wary curiosity. He reached down and pulled back the robes, revealing an almost immodest portion of the woman's chest. Jani Beg's eyes widened at the mysterious adornment. The silver chain connected through a loop at the top of another piece of silver shaped like a bird's claw. The sharp metal talons clutched a bright red jewel, but it was unlike any gem he'd ever seen. It had been shaped into a cylinder, with strange grooves and holes cut into the sides of the shaft.

The sounds of commotion stirred at the yurt's door. Jani Beg acted quickly, ripping the necklace from his victim’s throat with a click. A second later, two guards burst in. The Khan deftly slipped the woman's robes back over her chest, but his hand still held the strange jewel hidden within the palm.

"My Khan?" one of the guards said, confused. "Are you hurt?"

Jani Beg shook his head. "The others?"

"The other guards?" the man realized. "We found them dead outside your door as we arrived to change shifts."

The Khan nodded. The woman hadn't lied. But who was she? And why was she trying to help him? She wasn't one of his people; that much was certain. She clearly had a vendetta with the Genoese. Perhaps that was all there was to it. A jaded woman, scorned by a man in the city. Such stories, and the liaisons that inspired them, had brought empires to their knees throughout history.

He grinned. Maybe he shouldn't have killed her, but she'd threatened him. And no one threatened the Kahn.

"Go and see if she killed any others," Jani Beg ordered. "I'll be fine, as you can see."

The men obeyed, disappearing through the door to search the immediate area.

Jani Beg again lowered his eyes to the gem in his hand. As he stared at it, the flickering light of the candles and fire pit danced within the crystal, and it seemed to respond with subtle gyrations of its own—almost as if it were alive.

He cocked his head sideways, thinking himself hallucinating. Then he heard the sounds of the guards' footsteps returning. Jani Beg deposited the gem in the folds of his tunic.

"No signs of any others," said the same guard from before as he rushed into the tent.

"Good," Jani Beg said. He turned toward the fire. The gem felt warm in his pocket, as if somehow connected to the heat of the flames. "I have new orders."

The men stiffened to attention, awaiting their mission.

The Khan peered into the flames, yellow and orange tongues that lashed out at the air like ghostly demons from another realm.

"Reposition the engines," Jani Beg said in a distant, even tone. "Fire the bodies over the wall."

1 Prague

Valentin Svoboda’s nerves gnawed at