The Caliph averts his eyes as several ghulams armed with buckets of water and sponges clean up the mess on the floor. The body of the hapless Khwarezm messenger is dragged out by its remaining leg, leaving a trail of spleen-juice on the flagstones which is cleaned up hurriedly by the ghulams. There is a wet thud from outside the door as the body is tossed atop a pile of corpses on a cart bound for the mortuary.
The Vizier, a handkerchief over his mouth, stands and addresses the Khwarezm diplomat.
The earthly remains of your compatriate can be reclaimed from the Caliph's mortuary at any time, good sir. While the urgency of the message is beyond doubt, perhaps next time the Khwarezm emissary can receive his visitors outside?
Inshallah the Turkish ambassador will not then have to practice his peculiar brand of doctoring.
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