Reincarnated as Genghis Khan's Grandson, I Will Not Let It Fall-Chapter 29: The Channel Mouth

The afternoon light was still good when Batu took his position below the eastern crest.

From this elevation the channel’s floor ran straight below him for its full length before opening onto the flat steppe beyond the ford. The track was empty.

The force in its posts on both ridgelines and along the western slope had been still long enough that the terrain had closed around them.

A rider coming south from the ford and looking up at the eastern rise would see a rocky hillside and pale grass and nothing else.

He held the picture in his head and ran the logic one more time.

About eight thousand effective against four to five thousand on the southern track. The numbers favored him.

Every reading of this engagement that ran on numbers alone ended one way, and Batu already knew it would end that way.

The numbers had never been the question.

The question was what the end looked like.

Siban’s force scattered across the open steppe was a season’s work to chase down and another season to bring to terms.

Riders who survived a rout and reached Berke’s southern territory gave Berke a picture of Batu’s force that Berke could use.

They gave the watching tributary clans the impression of a man who had fought and survived, which was its own kind of information.

The Burjin and Tergesh and Yellow banner headmen were far enough from this country to read the outcome through what their riders brought back, and what riders brought back from a scattered enemy was never clean.

A live Siban under terms served the next ten years. A dead one or a scattered one served only the season.

A submission closed the matter for every watching eye between here and Berke’s territory.

A scattered force left loose ends the steppe carried for seasons.

The engagement had to be decisive enough that Siban’s ran only one direction. His force intact and his options gone.

Berke watching from the south would see it the same way Siban saw it, and Berke’s read of this outcome would shape what came after.

The Borte-Qol channel was running east. Whatever this engagement produced reached Guyuk’s picture in the form Batu sent it.

The east was occupied with a different problem. This ran clean on its own terms.

Siban needed to enter the narrows.

Movement came at the ford first.

Thirty riders came around the bend in the track at a measured pace and crossed the ford in two groups. They slowed on the southern bank and spread across the open flat, reading the terrain ahead.

The gap’s mouth was visible from the ford. The two ridgelines converged to the passage’s narrowest point, the track running through between the heights on both sides.

The afternoon sun was low enough to put the upper ridges in partial shadow.

The thirty riders held at the entrance and did not go in.

Batu watched them from below the crest without moving.

The forward screen commander read the gap’s mouth from the ford. Two ridgelines above, shadow on the cut below, the track between.

The passage offered whatever force held the heights a clean field above a body of riders with nowhere to go sideways.

It showed in how they held. Their commander looked at the eastern slope for a long time.

Then two riders broke from the group and moved toward the eastern ridgeline’s base.

They came at a walk. One slightly ahead, the other a length behind and to the right.

Two riders checking the eastern base for a flanking route. Torghul had said a cautious commander would send them before committing his main body to the cut below.

Batu held his post below the crest and let them come.

The two riders worked the eastern base, moving from one section to the next, reading the slope as they went.

The lower shelf sat above them, set into the hillside where the terrain flattened briefly before the final rise to the ridge.

Kirsa’s riders were on that shelf and the heights above it, spaced at intervals that kept them off the ridge’s skyline and out of any sightline from the track below.

The lead flanking rider slowed at the shelf’s lower edge.

His horse circled once in a small, tight movement. The rider looked up the slope.

His eyes moved across the ledge, tracking something in the line of the grass or the way a stone sat against the earth.

Something in the surface pattern read wrong. The grass line. The way one stone sat against another.

His head came up.

On the shelf above, one of Kirsa’s riders moved.

It was two men, coming down the hillside in a controlled line, their horses pulling back at a measured pace.

They came down in the manner of a rear picket that had been on an exposed post too long and was pulling back toward the heights.

At the shelf’s lower edge they paused and looked down at the two riders below them. They held a moment, long enough to be seen.

Then they turned and went up and over and out of sight.

The lead flanking rider watched the shelf above him for a long moment.

The ledge above was empty. The slope read as a pulled-back picket.

A picket that hadn’t expected contact before dark, pulling back when contact came.

Both riders turned and rode back toward the thirty.

Batu came down the eastern side and found Torghul at the western foot.

"Two showed themselves," Batu said. "Withdrawal pattern. The flanking pair read it as a picket pulling to the crest."

Torghul looked at the outer riders, still grouped below the passage. "Their report to the commander puts the eastern heights as lightly held."

"We hold that picture." Batu kept his voice level. "Kirsa’s full force stays above the crest. The shelf reads as cleared.

When the main body comes into the cut, the eastern side is clear."

"The flanking pair might go back up."

"They might. Get the order to Kirsa before the pair finishes their report."

Batu looked at the outer riders. The two riders were reaching the group’s edge. "The shelf has to stay empty from the cut’s base and the track.

Nothing above the crest line until my signal."

Torghul sent a rider to the eastern side at a pace that read as routine from the track below.

The rider went up the hill and over the ridge top without drawing a look from the outer riders’ post.

The two had reached the commander. The exchange at the group’s center was brief.

He listened and then looked at the eastern side for the second time, longer than the first.

The hillside above the shelf showed nothing. The two riders who had come down and gone back over the ridge top had left it looking exactly as it should.

A light rearward element, found there, now pulled back.

The commander sent a single rider north at a gallop.

The report going to Siban.

The light continued to drop across the channel. The base below Batu’s position was in shadow now, the ridgelines still catching the last angle of the afternoon sun on their upper sides.

The lead element held in place at the gap and waited for the main body to come south.

Batu went back up to below the eastern crest.

Torghul’s rider had reached Kirsa. The shelf above was still.

The eastern side showed nothing from the track, and Kirsa’s hundred and fifty-seven riders were behind the ridge in the terrain above it, horses on short lines, men in place.

The western side held Chaidu’s element below the ridge in the same pattern.

The rear observation pairs were on the southern route and had reported nothing from that direction since the force took its post.

The wait ran for twenty minutes before the main body appeared at the ford.

They came around the bend in the track with the sound of a large force moving south.

Hooves on the flat earth carrying through the cooler air, the compressed press of a formed body at march pace.

The leading edge emerged from behind the low feature and kept coming, and kept coming, and the ford churned as section after section crossed.

Four to five thousand riders filling the track north of the gap’s mouth, the forward screen pulling to the sides of the advance as the main body drew up behind them.

The earth below the ford was dark with horses and men.

The advance compressed as its head slowed at the channel mouth, the rear sections bunching on the track behind them.

The lead riders held the sides of the advance’s leading edge.

Batu watched from below the eastern ridge.

The main body’s head stopped at the narrows’ mouth.

A figure at the formation’s front. A commander reading the same terrain the forward screen commander had read, now with his full force behind him and a passage between two ridgelines ahead.

The channel’s base was dark and the ridgelines above it were in shadow.

The eastern side showed empty terrain.

The report from the forward screen had given him a light presence on the heights, a picket already withdrawn, a passage that read as contested but manageable.

The forward screen moved into the cut.