Naiz shifts uncomfortably in the heat of the tavern. He has been here for about two days and had been detained by suspicious officials who view him as a barbarian and pagan. He is here to do one job only, he reminds himself. Naiz wipes his brow and looks around at the architecture of Constantinople through a window, coming from the steppes of Central Asia he has never seen such majesty, however through all the pomp and splendour outside he sees the massive urban slums where beggars prowl the streets and half-starved women look hauntingly at their bundles cradled in their arms. Naiz listens to the wisps of conversation he can understand. “When will he be here?” “Soon. Be patient.” Kaykaus II of Rum then steps through the tavern as he grins at the bartender who sighs and hands him the alcohol. He drains the glass and walks around greeting the patrons of the establishment. He is clearly well-liked. A loud bang is heard as the tavern doors flew open. Roman tagma storms the small building and soon are in front of Kaykaus. “We are arresting you for your crimes against the people of Rhomania.” The leader snarls. Sultan Kaykaus sneers at the soldiers who hold a sword to his chest “I am Roman, you blithering fool. Stand down now or it will be far worse for you when the emperor hears of this.” The soldier smirks. “Is that so? Let’s see if that’s true.” With a single thrust he stabs Kaykaus through the heart. Naiz blanches as the sultan topples backwards and crashes to the floor, blood flowing from the chest wound.