The Yurt is empty save for the captives and their guards.

The Caliph's emissary to the Mongols, Zahiriddin Nasr Muhammad Aufi picks himself up off the floor and dusts down his white robes.

In a tremulous and quavering voice, he addresses his captors in pidgen Mongolian.

What right have you to seize us and keep us captive here? The Caliph offers the hand of peace and you spit on it!

Where is your Khan taking this army? And what do you intend to do with us?