The Tense Interrogation

As the hours passed from noon into the evening, Tagadhur maintained a delicate balance in the interrogation tent, carefully navigating the thin line between intimidation and violence. With each passing moment, the tension in the air grew palpable, as both Zhang Wei and Lei Feng awaited their fate with bated breath.

Tagadhur's strategy relied on his ability to keep the interrogation verbal, avoiding any physical confrontations that could escalate the situation beyond control. Despite the pressure mounting from his fellow Mongols, who were eager to employ more forceful tactics, Tagadhur remained steadfast in his resolve to extract information through dialogue alone.

Drawing on his years of experience and keen intuition, Tagadhur skillfully probed for answers, employing a mix of persuasion and coercion to elicit the truth from Zhang Wei and Lei Feng. With each carefully crafted question, he sought to unravel the mysteries surrounding their presence in the Mongol camp and the true extent of their intentions.

Despite the mounting pressure and the ever-present threat of discovery, Tagadhur remained calm and composed, his focus unwavering as he continued to navigate the delicate dance of interrogation. He knew that one wrong move could jeopardize their entire mission, and he was determined to see it through to its successful conclusion.

As the evening shadows lengthened and the camp settled into a restless silence, Tagadhur felt a glimmer of hope flicker within him. Despite the challenges they faced and the dangers that lurked around every corner, he knew that they were closer than ever to achieving their goals. With a steely resolve, he prepared to face whatever challenges the coming night would bring, determined to emerge victorious in the end.

As the evening wore on and Tagadhur's interrogation continued, murmurs of dissatisfaction began to ripple through the ranks of the Mongol soldiers gathered outside the tent. They questioned Tagadhur's approach, voicing concerns about the apparent lack of progress in extracting information from Zhang Wei and Lei Feng.

Tagadhur could feel the weight of their scrutiny bearing down upon him, their unspoken doubts casting a shadow over his efforts. Despite his best attempts to maintain control of the situation, the mounting pressure threatened to unravel his carefully constructed facade.

Just as Tagadhur prepared to address his men and assuage their concerns, Qorshi's sudden appearance sent a ripple of tension through the tent. The seasoned warrior's presence commanded attention, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the proceedings.

Qorshi's gaze swept over the scene before him, his expression inscrutable as he took in the sight of Tagadhur and the bound prisoners. His eyes lingered on Tagadhur for a moment, a silent challenge lurking within their depths.

"Tagadhur," Qorshi began, his voice low and gravelly. "What progress have you made in your interrogation? It seems to me that time is of the essence, and yet we have nothing to show for it."

Tagadhur met Qorshi's gaze with a steely resolve, his jaw set in determination.

"We are making progress, but these things take time," he replied evenly, his tone unwavering despite the weight of Qorshi's scrutiny. "Rest assured, we will extract the information we need."

Qorshi's lingering presence in the tent cast a pall of unease over the proceedings as he inspected the array of torture tools with a grim fascination. His fingers brushed across the implements with a disturbingly casual air, his gaze lingering on each one as if savouring the prospect of their use.

"These tools are meant to be used, Tagadhur," Qorshi remarked, his voice low and menacing. "It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

He hefted one of the implements, his grip tightening around the handle as he regarded Tagadhur with a challenging glint in his eye.

The agitation on Zhang Wei and Lei Feng's faces was palpable as they exchanged anxious glances, their fear mounting with each passing moment. Tagadhur knew that he needed to intervene, to reason with Qorshi and prevent the situation from escalating further.

"Qorshi, we must proceed with caution," Tagadhur began his voice firm but tinged with urgency. "There are other methods we can employ to extract information. Torture should be a last resort."

Qorshi's response was swift and cutting, his tone laced with scorn as he dismissed Tagadhur's objections.

"Since when have the Mongols shown mercy, Tagadhur?" he retorted, his words a rallying cry to the soldiers gathered around them. "No answer means it's time for torture. That's the way it's always been, and that's the way it will be now."

The murmurs of agreement that rippled through the tent only served to underscore Qorshi's authority, leaving Tagadhur feeling powerless to sway the tide of opinion. With a heavy heart, he realized that he had lost control of the situation and that Zhang Wei and Lei Feng were now at the mercy of Qorshi and his brutal methods.

As Qorshi yanked Zhang Wei's shirt off with a forceful tug, a collective gasp rippled through the tent as the extent of Zhang Wei's physical prowess was revealed. His toned muscles and the scars that adorned his skin spoke volumes of a life marked by battle and conflict. Qorshi's smirk of satisfaction confirmed that he had indeed struck a nerve.

With all eyes now on Tagadhur, Qorshi wasted no time in capitalizing on the moment. He issued swift orders to his fellow Mongols, instructing them to apprehend Tagadhur for his alleged role in the conspiracy. Bound and unable to defend himself, Tagadhur could only watch helplessly as Qorshi painted him as the ultimate traitor.

"All this time, we've harboured a viper in our midst," Qorshi declared, his voice dripping with contempt as he addressed the assembled soldiers. "Tagadhur has betrayed our trust and conspired against us. He is nothing but a snake in the grass, waiting to strike when we least expect it."

The murmurs of agreement that followed were like daggers to Tagadhur's heart, each one driving home the realization that he had been outmanoeuvred by his rival. As one of the soldiers questioned whether they should inform Sartak or the elders of the situation, Qorshi dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand.

"No need," he replied, his tone dismissive. "This is our affair, our moment to root out the traitors among us and mete out justice as we see fit. Sartak and the elders need not be bothered with such trivial matters."

With that, Qorshi turned his attention back to Tagadhur, his gaze burning with malice as he revelled in his newfound position of power. It was a dark and ominous turn of events, one that threatened to unravel everything Tagadhur had worked so hard to achieve.

As Tagadhur pleaded for mercy, his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the jeers and laughter of the Mongol soldiers. Qorshi, revelling in his newfound authority, showed no sign of relenting, his cruel laughter echoing through the tent like a sinister symphony.

Driven by a sadistic desire for more suffering, Qorshi seized a rib bone from a nearby bull carcass, a relic of a hunt long past. With a malicious glint in his eye, he brought the bone down with brutal force, slamming it onto Zhang Wei's exposed stomach. The impact elicited a guttural groan of pain from Zhang Wei as his skin reddened under the blunt force of the blow.

The sight of Zhang Wei writhing in agony only served to fuel Qorshi's twisted pleasure, his laughter ringing out like a dark anthem. Tagadhur's pleas for mercy grew more desperate with each passing moment, but Qorshi remained unmoved, his heart hardened by years of bitterness and rivalry.

"Please, Qorshi, have mercy! This is not the way," amidst the cacophony of mockery and cruelty, Tagadhur's voice rose in a desperate plea.

Qorshi's laughter only grew louder in response, his eyes glinting with malice as he looked down upon Zhang Wei's writhing form.

"Mercy?" he scoffed. "Where was your mercy when you conspired against us, Tagadhur? You are nothing but a traitor, and traitors deserve no mercy."

Tagadhur's heart sank at Qorshi's words, knowing that his pleas were falling on deaf ears.

"I did what I thought was best for our people," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. "Please, spare him."

But Qorshi remained unmoved, his grip on the rib bone tightening as he prepared to strike again.

"Spare him?" he mocked. "Why should I spare him when he is the enemy?"

As the torture continued unabated, Tagadhur felt a sense of helplessness wash over him like a tidal wave. He had gambled everything on his plan to infiltrate the Mongol camp, only to see it unravel before his eyes. Now, as he watched Zhang Wei endure unspeakable pain at the hands of his tormentor, Tagadhur could only pray for a miracle to save them from this nightmare.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Tagadhur watched in horror as Zhang Wei writhed in agony, the sound of his groans echoing through the tent like a haunting melody of suffering. Beside him, Lei Feng struggled against his bonds, his attempts to break free met with frustration as the Mongol soldiers held him firmly in place. With each blow inflicted upon his companions, Tagadhur felt a sense of helplessness gnaw at his soul, knowing that he was powerless to stop the brutality unfolding before him.