d fluttering in the east wind.

Grief shot through Daoud like the Tartar arrow that had pierced his old
naqeeb.

Daoud knew what Mahmoud's last words meant. It was the best of moments
to die. A moment of triumph.

_But a moment of grief for me, Mahmoud, because I have seen you die._

Daoud rode forward over dead Tartars to the place where the enemy had
planted their standard, on a small hill. Bunched together, the last few
Tartars fought on foot.

A fierce joy swept Daoud. Victory! He had believed that God would not
allow Islam's last defenders to be defeated, but the wonder of a triumph
over the invincible Tartars was so overwhelming that he almost fell from
his saddle.

In the midst of the Tartars one man dashed this way and that, shouting
orders to the few dozen men as if they were still thousands. He wore a
gold tablet stamped with symbols on a chain around his neck, the badge
of a high-ranking Tartar officer. Scouts had reported that this Tartar
army was commanded by one called Ket Bogha. This must be he.

Ket Bogha shot arrows into the tightening circle of Mamelukes until he
had no more arrows left. He threw javelins. Then he stood with his sword
held before him, not the usual Tartar saber, but a two-handed sword that
he swung ferociously at anyone who approached.

With a single swipe of his sword Ket Bogha cut off the foreleg of a
horse that rode at him. The horse toppled screaming to the ground, and
the rider barely managed to jump free and run away as Ket Bogha slashed
at him.

The battle ended for Ket Bogha as six naqeebs clubbed the Tartar general
to the ground with the butt ends of their lances.

_He deserved better than that_, Daoud thought sadly.

But the momentary sympathy for his conquered enemy was swept away in the
ecstatic floodtide of triumph. Now the battle was truly over! And the
Mamelukes had won over the Tartars.

The naqeebs bound Ket Bogha's arms. Baibars himself dismounted and took
the Tartar general's great sword and tied it to his own saddle, then
lifted the gold tablet from around his neck and dropped it into his
saddle pack. Smiling, he spoke to Ket Bogha in the language of the
Tartars and tied a rope around his neck. Then he mounted his own
fawn-colored mare and led the defeated general past heaps of Tartar and
Mameluke dead and clusters of rejoicing Muslim warriors. Daoud, and then
Baibars's other emirs and bashis followed.

The standard of Qutuz was back on the field, lo