The sky was a dark purple, speckled with streaks of pink and blue. Streams of smoke spiraled through the air, thickening it with the smell of burnt leather and meat. It was nearly nightfall, meaning the meeting was nearly over. Ghazan returned his attention to the strategist Kuvira, who was once again going over her battle plan. She pointed to the map on the cloth wall behind her, her slender fingers closed around a thin wooden rod.

"Once we break through their defenses, we will have access to the village's water reserve. Don't waste your time tracking down the local authority, this raid is for material necessities only." The last word was drawn out, and Kuvira's eyes roved over the seated warriors as she spoke.

"If the locals prove too difficult to deal with, cut your losses and retreat. Our numbers are small enough as it is. We don't need to suffer any casualties over this. Now," she paused after that word, waiting for any questions. Ghazan glanced at his compatriots, and saw they were as eager as he to get on the battle field. "That is all," said Kuvira, dropping the rod on the cushion next to her feet as she spoke, and signaling for the generals to exit the ger. Ghazan got up and stretched; his legs cramped after being bent beneath him for so long. He slung his bows across his shoulder, picked up his sword and arrows from the table they rested on, and placed them carefully in his belt. Grabbling his weaponry sack, he followed his fellows to the stables.

A member of Ghazan's regiment gathered around him on his horse. Being lesser officials, his arban had not been privy to the meeting and so the messenger looked expectantly at Ghazan. "Tell the others to join us." commanded Ghazan, swinging onto his horse. "It's time to attack." The soldier nodded respectfully and turned to complete the order. Ghazan watched him until he was no longer visible. and kicked his horse lightly, prompting it into a brisk trot. He looked at the other generals, waiting for the signal to begin. General Jebe was discussing tactics with Kuvira, both of whom were in full armor. Ghazan stopped his horse next to them and nodded respectfully to the two. Seeing him, Kuvira placed her helmet on her head.

"Attack," she ordered curtly. She jumped on her horse and motioned to Ghazan to follow her. Kuvira's horse broke into a swift gallop, and the sudden increase in speed was mirrored by the surrounding troops. Ghazan grinned and urged his horse faster. The raid was about to begin.

Scrolls covered in writing littered the dried, mud floor. The house which the floor belonged to was small, only one room, and lightly furnished. Aside from the scrolls covering the ground, it was extremely organized. Two cots and a cabinet sat in one side of the room, and a cooking pot and a chair were on the other. A short, stocky man sat on one of the cots, a stack of scrolls laying on his lap. A few strands of his dark hair hung over his face as he bowed over the scroll in concentration. He absentmindedly reached his hand to the ground and fished around in the pile of paper for another scroll, his eyes still on the paper he was holding.

"Zaheer?" The hand paused, and Zaheer looked up.

"Yes?"

"Whose writings are those?" Zaheer coughed quietly, and slowly placed the scroll back on the floor.

"Guru Laghima's," he responded, sounding slightly puzzled by the question. The speaker, a tall woman a few years younger than her companion slid down from her chair and placed herself in front of him, her long, brown braid sliding over her shoulder.

"Didn't we come to China so that you could study philosophers who aren't Guru Laghima?" Zaheer sighed and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head.

"Well yes, but P'li. His theories are outstanding."

"You know that that's a matter of opinion, right?"

"No," exclaimed Zaheer, looking up indignantly. "His word is practically fact."

P'li rolled her eyes and plucked his new scroll from his fingers.

"I think that's enough philosophy for today." she said, a amused smirk on her face. Zaheer moved to take it back, but stopped when he heard a scream. He and P'li locked eyes, and they sat tensely as they listened. The riot of pounding hooves and screaming civilians flooded their ears almost immediately. Zaheer reached for a wooden staff kept behind him, and rose slowly, gesturing for P'li to look out the window. Outside, hordes of bow-bearing barbarians were terrorizing the village, looting buildings and forcing civilians out of their homes. P'li's eyes widened, the reflection of the outside flames visible in her pupils.

"Zaheer?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on?"

"I suspect a Mongolian invasion. Wait." Zaheer ran to the floor and hurriedly shoved the scrolls into his greenish-brown coat. He quietly put out the sole lantern in the small room and placed it carefully underneath the table, bathing the room in a wave of darkness. Zaheer rose, then grabbed P'li by the hand and yanked her to the ground behind a wooden cabinet.

"Do you have your daggers with you?" he asked quietly, still keeping a tight grasp on her hand.

"Yes," she said tensely, her eyes flitting constantly between Zaheer and the window. "Do you have your weapons?"

"In my coat." He froze abruptly, his free hand hovering by one of the lapels of his coat. They could hear a rapid, constant banging on the door. Without warning, a club burst through its center, splintering the elm wood. The wielder of the club stepped in, letting the moonlight stream in from the new, gaping hole in the door. He was tall in stature, and wielded a bow as his hooded green eyes scanned the room. He shook the wood dust out of his long, dark hair, then looked over his shoulder to address the two men behind him in a deep voice.

"Batu. Kara. See if there's anyone in this house. You know what to do if there are." Zaheer could hear his pulse beating frantically in his ears as several tense seconds passed.

"Ghazan?" asked the smallest intruder.

"Yes Kara?" replied Ghazan.

"I think I see a foot peeking out from behind that cabinet." Zaheer and P'li froze. Zaheer slowly shifted his gaze from the intruders to P'li's toes, which were protruding slightly. P'li drew herself completely behind the cabinet, and grabbed something her belt. Ghazan reached for the bow slung across his back, but was stopped by a dagger that flew directly at him. He yelped in surprise, and dived to the floor, barely missing the blow. P'li leapt up, skillfully flinging another projectile at the warrior named Kara, striking him in shoulder. The daggers had scarcely left her hand before she threw another, sending a volley of knives in rapid succession at the strangers. Zaheer stood up, pausing to survey the damage she had caused, and noting that all of the intruders were still alive. He seized his staff, and swung it in the direction of the nearest warrior. The Mongol dodged the rod, and returned the offensive with a massive axe. Zaheer ducked to the ground, and while there struck his opponent's feet, knocking him to the floor. Swearing, he leapt up and lashed at Zaheer's head with his axe once more. Zaheer leaned back, and turning swiftly, smacked Batu upside the head with his staff. The warrior fell to the ground, incapacitated. Zaheer spared a glance in the direction of P'li. P'li was faring reasonably well against her two opponents. She had eliminated Kara with a deep gash to the shoulder that was bleeding profusely, but Ghazan was still standing. He dodged a dagger set for his throat, dropping to the floor and while rolling fired an arrow at her. The arrow met its mark, pinning P'li to the nearby wall by her collar. Zaheer made a move towards Ghazan, who was readying another arrow. The man on the floor, suddenly grabbed him by the neck and pulled him violently to the ground. Zaheer struggled to break free of the grasp, grabbing him by the wrists and twisting them until his shoulders were released. He darted up, only to be struck down by the arrow intended for P'li. Zaheer yanked the arrow out of his collar and looking up, saw an arrow at his throat. Zaheer glanced at P'li, who the mongols had ignored during their scuffle with him. She was readying another dagger.

"Batu!" screamed Ghazan, pointing towards P'li. Batu attempted to dodge the knife, barely sparing himself a dagger to the throat, but was struck in the leg. He let out a yowl of pain, dropping his arrows and grasping his bleeding limb. Ghazan ignored his bow this time, and grabbed P'li by the arm and threw her into the wall. Zaheer wrenched an arrow out of the ground, and flung it at Ghazan's back. Seconds before it impaled him, Ghazan spun around, catching it in midair. He placed it in his bow, and fired directly at Zaheer. Now cursing loudly, Zaheer used Batu's fallen bow to deflect it, and holding it in front of him like a sword, decided to consider his options. It was likely that he would be able to defend himself for a while, but the odds were not in his favor. An attempt to flee would probably end in death, and would leave P'li with them. He threw a glance at P'li, who was apparently still unconscious. Mind made up, Zaheer let out a hiss of annoyance and lifted himself into a standing position, throwing his hands in the air.

"Fine. We surrender."

Ghazan lowered his bow and raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Why should we believe you?" Zaheer rolled his eyes.

"We're completely surrounded. It's impossible for us to escape with our lives, so why would we even try?" He attemped to sound defeated, but his tone more closely resembled irritation. Ghazan rocked slightly in place, seemingly considering the situation. Abruptly, he dropped his bow to his side, and grabbed Zaheer roughly by the collar with the other. He yanked a rope from his belt and used it to tie Zaheer's hands and feet together, then threw him back onto the ground.

"Do the same with the girl." he commanded his companions, aiming his arrow at Zaheer once more.

"You're actually considering letting them off this easy?" Batu cried from his position on the floor. "They nearly took out one of our men!"

"You just answered your own question." Ghazan responded. "This man speaks Mongolian." Zaheer's eyes widened as the beginnings of a scheme began to formulate in his mind.

"Oh in the the name of Tengri, Ghazan!" growled Batu. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Hear me out!" said Ghazan. "These two held us off for what, ten minutes? That's better than most armies." Batu rolled his eyes.

"Ten minutes, Ghazan, so long." he replied sarcastically. Ghazan ignored him, and ordered Kara to bind P'li. His command was met with a faint whisper, and Ghazan finally realized that Kara was nursing a large gash in his shouldr.

"Never mind," Ghazan said hastily, seizing another rope from his belt, and striding over to where P'li lay. She was now conscious and narrowed her eyes as she saw him approaching. Ghazan bound her arms behind her back and ripped the belt off of her waist, confiscating her seemingly endless supply of daggers.

"Oh yeah," called Ghazan to the others. "See what weaponry he's hiding." Batu struggled to his feet, and roughly flipped open Zaheer's coat to search him. Zaheer stood awkwardly as over the course of the search, Batu pulled out a sword, a dagger, a spear, various Persian blades, and a few vials containing brightly colored liquids. Batu pinched the bridge of his nose, and tossed the weapons into a pile. He turned to Ghazan, his expression incredulous.

"If that was just in his coat, what else do you think he's hiding?" Ghazan examined the pile and grinned.

"Let's find out. I'll check the girl." The two spent the next half hour removing various forms of artillery from the prisoners, and their home. Throughout their search, the pile had grown progressively larger, and now resembled a small hill.

"Yeah, these two are definitely going to be useful to the Khan." said Ghazan, crossing his arms as he examined the wide array of deadly tools. Batu scoffed at his superior.

"You can handle that explanation yourself." He looked at Kara to issue an order, then thought better of it and stashed the weaponry in his sack. Ghazan walked over to Kara and placing his arm underneath his shoulders, pulled him to his feet.

"Let's get you back to camp. Now." With his free hand, Ghazan slung his bow over his shoulder, and placed his dagger back in its holster. "Batu, you watch the woman. I'll watch this one," he said glancing at Zaheer threateningly. He prodded Zaheer with the back of his axe in warning. Accompanied by their new hostages, the Mongols exited the house, and started the journey back to their camp amidst the wreckage that surrounded them.