Purple Tent: Princes of Rus

Death is always accompanied by wind and sand or horse hooves. The scout Ten Thousand Household Chief Yesugei stood outside Batu Khan's golden tent, like a stone sculpture that had been eroded by the wind for hundreds of years. The scar on his face from his brow bone to his chin glowed dark red in the sunset. He came from the east, carrying dust and blood along the way. What he carried in his arms was not a trophy, but a piece of news that could make the ground beneath his feet tremble. He could imagine the scene inside the tent without going in: warm butter candles, soft Persian carpets, and the aroma of kumiss and barbecued meat filling the air. And all of this will be completely shattered by the news he brings. He took a deep breath of the cold, dry air and stepped in.