The Tartars had turned Khwarezmia into a desert, but this audience would
not care overmuch about that. Daoud wondered if he could turn the
conversation back to what they had done in Christian lands.

"What about Moscow?" he said. His voice sounded to him as if his ears
were stuffed with cotton. He worried that John might realize that he was
being led to talk about what he had done against Christians.

"Moscow?" said John. "That was much later." Strange, how John's voice
seemed to be coming from Ana's lips. "I was in command of my own tuman
there, ten thousand men, under our great commander Subotai Baghadur. Ah,
yes, we killed off all the people of Moscow."

Daoud felt like leaping from his chair. Just what he had hoped to hear.
He made himself slump down still more and look sleepier.

"I never could understand how it is possible to kill off the population
of a whole city," he said, affecting a tone of cool curiosity. "It must
take days and be very tiring."

Philip Uzbek laughed when this was translated. Clearly he thought it a
foolish remark. His round, flat face reminded Daoud of Kassar, and with
the thought a red mist of rage passed before Daoud's eyes.

John responded to Daoud's remark. "Not at all tiring. We had five tumans
at Moscow. There were about fifty thousand people living in the city,
and many had died in the siege. Subotai gave the honor of the killing to
the most valorous tuman, which happened to be mine. We just divided them
up. Each of us took about five of them. You can kill five people in no
time. It is not like fighting. Some we shot with arrows. Others we cut
their heads off. The women are especially easy. You just pull their hair
to stretch their necks so the sword will go through easier, and chop!"
Ana, imperturbable even now, repeated the slicing gesture John made with
his hand.

"The children run away sometimes, and you have to chase them," John
chuckled. "It is best to use arrows on them. But the adults are so
terrified, they just stand there."

Daoud looked again at the circle around them. Several people looked a
bit sick. The mouth of the elderly contessa hung open, revealing the
absence of two or three lower front teeth. Pope Urban leaned forward in
his chair, his face expressionless.

Driven by his growing hatred for the Tartars, he pressed them to reveal
more of themselves. He should be pleased, he thought, at this much
success, but he wanted to destroy them utterly.

"You do n