We let the horses drink from a channel that watered the corn, and, mounting them, rode onward slowly.
Now with the shadows of the night a weight of fear seemed to be lifted off our hearts and we grew hopeful, aye, almost joyous.

That hated city was behind us.

Behind us were the Khania with her surging, doom-driven passions and her stormy loveliness, the wizardries of her horny-eyed mentor, so old in years and secret sin, and the madness of that strange being, half-devil, half-martyr, at once cruel and a coward--the Khan, her husband, and his polluted court.

In front lay the fire, the snow and the mystery they hid, sought for so many empty years.

Now we would solve it or we would die.