Gritting his teeth, the captain bent down to you. A warning gleamed in the brown of his eyes. He hadn't allowed you to speak, especially not freely.

But the information you provided was important. If there was one thing an entire army feared, it was disease. Many had already died on the way to the islands of the Japanese Empire. There would be more if they didn't listen to your advice.

With a nod of his head, he indicated to the soldier that he should do as suggested. The soldier disappeared. There was no reason to guard you, you were just a woman and the captain was a battle-hardened Mongol.

You were also bound by chains. The metal was already burning into your skin from the cold and leaving visible marks. As the door fell shut, you could feel the room change.

"You speak when you are ordered to.", warned the captain with emphasis in his eyes.

A thin smile curved your lips. You had nothing but mockery for him, but at the same time you had no intention of dying. Not on this day and not on this ship. And certainly not at the hands of a Mongol.

Suddenly, a laugh rang out from the other end of the cabin. It was throaty and throaty and so full of strength that it shook the boards under your feet. But there was no joy in this laughter. It was rather amused and mocking.

Your eyes wandered round the room. At the table, where the captain usually sat, sat a cheap-looking man. His face was round, as was his torso. Despite the many wars the Mongols had started and won he was well fed.

As with so many men you had observed on the ships over the months, his hair was black, cut short and his face was framed by a beard. A scar stretched from his right temple to his forehead, on which wrinkles were forming. Wind and rain had tanned his skin.

Without a word, you bowed. Khotun Khan nodded in acknowledgement. If you believed the stories and everything he said, this man was the cousin of Kublai Kahn, direct grandson of the Genghis. This meant that he came from the ruling bloodline that commanded the Mongol Empire.

A man who could hardly have been more powerful. There was something barbaric about the way he looked at you. But there was undoubtedly intelligence in the brown colour.

"My men hold your service in great honour, woman.", his tongue was hard to speak, the words well chosen and yet snooty. "They say you have magical powers."

Again you smiled thinly but only enough so that it could not be perceived as aggression. With bowed head you took the weight of his gaze.

"The sick and dying always beg for healing.", you said calmly. When" they are on the brink of death, they believe that simple medicine is a miracle."

One of his thick eyebrows lifted.

"Modest.", he lifted his chin, one hand resting on his outstretched leg.

Although he was sitting, he looked massive. Like a bear hiding between trees.

"When they get well again, the men can call me whatever they want."

Now it was he who smiled.

"Witch.", he said. "They call you a witch of dark magic."

This time you dared to look up enough to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat shone on his forehead. There was chanting and rumours about the strength of the Kahn bloodline.

This man seemed visibly unfit for battle. But the furrows on his fleshy hands revealed that many had died by his blade.

"Does it matter if I'm a witch or not?", you asked. "In the end, they will recover."

"Not all of them.", he rose from his seat.

A huge shadow followed him. Compared to other peoples the Mongols had attacked, they were tall. But Khotun Kahn towered over even his own countrymen.

He approached you like a fortress, dressed in simple black. Silver gleams adorned his arms and legs. As he came closer, you could smell leather, roasted meat over the fire.

And alcohol.

You looked up. He didn't seem drunk, there was no flush on his cheeks and his gaze was clear. You frowned curiously. He watched every movement of your face closely.

"My services are needed among the soldiers.", you finally dared to reply.

He grumbled, approvingly.

"A fact, I can't deny, witch.", he bent down to you, his shadow swallowing you whole. "But you can't save everyone. Can you?"

It felt like he could tear you to pieces without a single touch. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. But you didn't let it show and averted your eyes again.

It was no secret that the Kahn didn't like being stared at.

"If some die anyway, isn't that proof that I'm not a witch?", you asked.

Your throat burned as you swallowed hard. Candles flickered. Shadows danced across his face.

"I won't burn you if you were one.", he leaned back again with a grin.

His movement was somewhat sluggish. As if he didn't feel completely comfortable, restricted in his own body.

"Then thank you for the trust.", you didn't know what else to say.

He looked at you again. Then Khotun Kahn's gaze fell on the captain, who had been silently listening to the conversation. A simple movement of the head was enough to make him disappear.

Now you were completely alone with the Mongol general. The realisation sent a shiver down your spine. Exhaling heavily, he turned round and returned to the chair.

"They also say that you are able to tell a man his illness just by looking at him.", he said, still with his back turned to you.

You frowned.

"Sometimes."

He dropped into the chair.

"Modest. Again.", he exhaled deeply. "Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?"

It occurred to you at that moment that the general had no reason to seek you out. Unless he needed something. The question of whether his own doctors couldn't help him better was already on the tip of your tongue as you swallowed the words and looked him up and down more clearly.

"Pain in the legs.", you finally said. "Or just when walking?"

His face darkened. He shook his head mildly.