Harold Lamb

“ The horses, except Hugh's gray stallion, were fresh, and his charger was still able to gallop. Before starting, Hugh had thrust Rusudan's loose hair under her hood and had drawn the hood down about her eyes, so that the keen eyes of the Mongols might not recognize a woman—and for another reason.
They passed by knots of fallen men, and here and there a figure dragged itself through the trampled snow, moaning or crying for aid as the riders swept past. Wounded Georgians, who would watch jackals tear at the bodies of their comrades in the hours of that night. ”

“ Again they plunged past warriors afoot, who sprang aside with lifted sword or ax, shouting hoarse defiance. When the horses slowed their pace and the snow surface loomed unbroken, Hugh thought they had passed beyond the Mongols.
Already the sky over the eastern ranges was filled with an orange glow; the moon would be shedding its light into the valley. The Georgians began to cast about for the road, whipping on their horses.
“Where the ground is dark, the road will be,” said one of them to the princess. ”

“ The chieftain of the Khaukesh was of the breed of stubborn fighters who are more dangerous in retreat than in a charge, and Hugh understood why the Moslems had never won to Tphilis.
“Will they attack the city, think ye?” the constable asked the crusader.
“Aye, if it lies in their road. Otherwise they will not waste men. They are picked warriors and they mean to pass beyond the Khaukesh.”
To this the constable made no answer. It seemed to him that the Mongols must desire the sack of Tphilis and, besides, he did not see where else they would go. ”