"Mercy?" the Khan asked, tilting his head. "You speak of mercy to a wolf? No, Dalu. Mercy is a luxury for those who have never known hunger. I do not offer the yoke. I offer the harvest."
The Khan turned his gaze from the kneeling warlord to the survivors huddled behind the city gates—the women, the shivering children, the elders. But mostly, his eyes lingered on the women.
