The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) 📖

far, none of his stewards had succumbed to the illness, a fact that brought him only the slightest comfort.

"Speak. But I must know who dares enter my chamber uninvited."

The intruder studied him, accompanied by the moans of the sick and dying in the tents surrounding the royal yurt. The fire in the pit flickered, already waning from the attendant's earlier service.

The apparition shifted and moved to a stack of wood along the far wall. Two gloved hands picked two split pieces, and the stranger brought them over to the fire, setting them atop a cluster of red-hot coals. Within a minute, the dried wood sparked to life and radiated warmth throughout the tent.

"My name is of no consequence. You likely would have never heard it and probably never will until the end of your days."

"A ghost, then?" He was only half joking, uncertain as to the intruder’s true nature.

"Of the spirit world, I am not."

"Then why should I trust you?" the Khan grumbled.

“You and I have a common enemy."

"The Genoese?"

"They are only part of a bigger problem, my Khan. To destroy a weed, you must first kill the roots. Then the rest will die."

He lowered his weapon but kept a firm grip on the handle in case the visitor tried to surprise him.

"Go on."

"You've been burying your dead," the visitor stated.

"Of course. Outside the camp. The graves became so numerous, we started burying the dead together in larger holes."

"What if I offered you a better solution, one that would both help you rid the land of the Genoese scourge and cleanse your camp of the diseased bodies?"

The great warrior cocked his head to the side, assessing the visitor anew. "How do you propose we do that?"

The robed interloper shrugged. "It is not a new practice. There have been others before you to use it.”

Jani Beg stepped forward, risking the safety of proximity to hear what this stranger had to offer.

"What do you want?"

"Ah, there is a rational change of subject. I wondered when you would get to that."

"Well?"

"As I said before," the visitor explained, “you and I have a common enemy. This strategy is a gift, great Khan. No exchange of value is necessary. By ridding Kaffa of the Genoese, you will aide us greatly."

“Us? What kingdom seeks an alliance with me?” Jani Beg's face tightened, and his right eyebrow twitched with suspicion.

“I serve no kingdom. Only a purpose.”

Very little of this conversation made sense to the Khan, but what was he to do? At the very least, he had to listen to this stranger's idea. He was, essentially, a captive audience in his own chambers, but the speaking in riddles was getting on his nerves.

"Speak. And do it quickly. My patience has worn thin this last year."

"Understandable, my Khan." The visitor shifted, turning their body with every movement to avoid the light from revealing any fragment of their identity. "Your siege engines are still functional, yes?"

"They are."

"Perhaps it's time for you to try a different projectile."

"What do you mean? We've used everything available to us. Still, the infidel fortress stands."

"You haven't used everything, great Khan."

There was something sinister about the visitor's words. They were an insinuation, veiled in pure evil, or at the very least, malicious intentions.

"We have tried—"

"You haven't tried this," the visitor interrupted. The robed figure meandered around the fire to the wall at Jani Beg's right. The stranger analyzed the fabric walls, brushing the surface with the back of a long, bony finger. "Load your siege engines with the dead."

The Khan furrowed his brow, and his jaw set in a deep frown. "What did you say?"

The hood cocked to the side. He still couldn't see the face, but he assumed the stranger was giving him a bewildered look.

"Perhaps you don't have the stomach for that sort of thing. But let me be clear, Jani Beg." The figure swept forward in a blur, and a blade hidden in the folds of the robe flashed in the dim glow of fire and candle. Before the Khan could blink, the sharp edge was at his throat.

The gray eyes that stared back at him from under the hood reminded him of wolves he'd seen. They were wild, fearless, cunning, and in control of something dark, something sinister that begged to be loosed from its chains.

The Khan set his jaw, ready to die and unwilling to beg for mercy.

"Do what I said," the stranger sneered. "Fling the bodies into the city. The Genoese will have no choice but to flee back to their home country."

The visitor withdrew the knife with such speed the Khan barely saw it. The figure turned and started to the door.

"But, the illness—"

"Send the bodies over the wall. It will not take long for them to begin dying, too. When you're done, leave this place. It is a tomb that will drag you in as well. Do not return until they are all gone."

His dark frown deepened. He blew air out of his nostrils. "Why do you care if I die or not?" He wondered why this mysterious stranger came to him with this solution. More than once, Jani Beg considered the idea of throwing the bodies over the wall. That kind of biowarfare had been done for centuries, as far as he knew. But he loathed to use that tactic, if for no other reason than it would infect additional men from his ranks.

"I do not care," the visitor snarled. "But your purpose is not for dying."

His eyes narrowed at the statement. He wondered how this foreigner could speak his language so perfectly, as if the intruder had been speaking it their entire life.

"What is my purpose, then?"

"To kill."

Jani Beg’s head tilted up. He took a sort of pride in her insinuation. Killing had been a task with which he'd shown proficiency. "I've chosen the correct path, then." His left hand thumbed the dagger at his side, a discreet movement that the stranger could not have seen from their angle.

"So it would seem. Do as I