He did not bother to acknowledge the salutes of his soldiers or the bows of his visitors but crossed the floor with a deliberate tread, enjoying the immensely satisfying sight of the throne that awaited him. It was his people’s greatest treasure, hidden from the dragon overlord Malys during her occupation of Khur. The tall, heavy chair was covered in sheets of hammered gold. Its fan-shaped backrest was set with two star sapphires, each twice the size of Sahim’s fist and known as the Eyes of Kargath, for the Khurish god of war. Raised panels on the gilding depicted glorious events from the reigns of Sahim’s predecessors.

Once he was seated and his robe arranged to his satisfaction, Sahim acknowledged the holy lady first.

“Great Khan,” she said immediately, “the followers of Torghan are again harassing my priestesses in the city. Today alone, three were accosted in the Grand Souks.”

“Assaulted?”

Sa’ida firmed her lips. “No, sire. Manhandled, but not molested. The goods they carried were struck from their hands and trampled underfoot.”

“Deplorable. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Condortal?”

“Deplorable,” repeated the distant Nerakan, “but hardly my affair, mighty Khan.”

“No?” Sa’ida turned toward him abruptly, the tiny brass bells braided in her hair clashing to underscore her anger. “It is said the Sons of Torghan take money from Neraka.”

“A vicious rumor, started by our enemies, the elves.” Condortal bowed to the outraged priestess, but there was no deference in his voice. As usual, he spoke much too loudly, and Sahim was glad he stood so far away. “Mighty Khan, is this why I was summoned? Crime in the city is not the concern of my Order. I will take my leave-”

“I have not excused you.”

Condortal, half turned toward the doors, halted, and turned back. The khan’s mask of royal composure had not altered, but his voice was imperious.