The scout nodded. ‘They have been sighted, my lord khan. Forty miles, or close to it.’
It was all he needed and he waved the scout off, sending him running back to his master. His own scouts had been waiting for the word. As soon as they heard, they kicked their mounts into a lunging canter. In relays, the news would bring all the tumans in, a hammer of the most dangerous fighting forces ever assembled. Arik-Boke grinned to himself as he angled his horse to the west and dug in his heels. The blocks would turn in place behind him, becoming a spear to thrust into his brother’s hopes.
He glanced up at the sun, calculating the time it would take him to make contact. The rush of enthusiasm damped down as suddenly as it had arisen. The scout had ridden forty miles already, which meant Kublai’s forces had been free to act for half a day. By the time Arik-Boke’s tumans reached him, it would be dusk or night.
Arik-Boke began to sweat again, wondering what orders he should give to attack a force he could not yet see, a force that would certainly have moved by the time he arrived in the area. He clamped down on his doubts. The plan was a good one and if he didn’t bring his brother to battle until the following day, it would not matter in the end.
Kublai stared at a single point in the distant hills, waiting for confirmation. There. Once more he saw the flash of yellow, appearing and disappearing in an instant. He let out a slow breath. It was happening, at last. The bones had been thrown and he would have to see how they fell.
‘Answer with a red flag,’ he called to his scout. Miles away, the man who had signalled would be watching for a response. Kublai kept looking out at the blurred point as his man spread a red cloth as tall as himself and waved it before letting it fall.
‘Wait … wait … now, yellow,’ Kublai ordered. He felt some of his tension ease now that his plans were actually going into effect. Signal flags were nothing new over long distances, relayed from valley to valley by men on the peaks. Even so, Kublai had refined the practice, using a system of five colours that could be combined to send a surprising amount of information. The distant watcher would have seen the flags and passed on the message, covering miles far faster than a horse could ride.
‘Good,’ Kublai said. The scout looked up, but Kublai was talking to himself. ‘Now we’ll see whether my brother’s men have the stomach to fight for a weak khan.’
CHAPTER FORTY
Alandar muttered to himself in irritation as his scouts came racing in, clearly expecting him to gallop off immediately in response to the news they brought. Instead, he had to balance his orders with the best tactical decisions on the ground. It was not a pleasant position and he was not enjoying the morning. Karakorum was over two hundred miles behind him and he had lost the taste for sleeping under the stars and waking stiff and frozen. His block of tumans had ridden at good speed, covering the land and staying in touch with Arik-Boke, but Alandar could not shake the feeling of unease that plagued him. Everything he knew of Kublai said the man was not a fool, but Arik-Boke was convinced he could be run down like a deer in a circle hunt. Alandar’s own men expected him to roar battle orders at the first sign of contact, and as the scouts reported, he could feel their eyes on him, questioning. He stared straight ahead as he rode.
His four generals were close by and he whistled to bring the most senior man to him. Ferikh was a solid officer, with white hair and twenty years of experience under three khans. He trotted through the ranks at the summons, his expression serious.
‘You have new orders, orlok?’ he asked as he came up.
‘Not yet. It feels like a trap, Ferikh.’
The general turned automatically to stare at where Kublai’s tumans had been sighted, racing along a pass between two valleys. The contact had been brief, but just long enough to send Alandar’s scouts pounding back with news. In relays, the news would be stretching out to the blocks in the long sweeping line.
‘You do not have to respond, orlok,’ Ferikh said. Alandar winced slightly to see the disappointment on the older man’s face. ‘The khan can decide when he has brought up the middle tumans.’
‘Which will not happen until dark,’ Alandar said.
Ferikh shrugged. ‘Another day will not make a difference.’
‘You think it’s a trap?’ Alandar asked.
‘Perhaps. A brief sighting of a small group, no more than six or seven thousand. They might want us to go charging in after them and then stage an ambush. It’s what I would do.’
Alandar rose as tall as he could manage in his saddle, looking at the hills all around them.
‘If it’s an ambush, they will have a large force somewhere near, ready to spring out as soon as we move.’
He was in a difficult position and Ferikh appreciated his dilemma. The men expected their officers to show courage and quick thinking. They had heard the news and they waited for the order to ride hard and fast, but Alandar had not spoken. If he fell for some ploy, he would risk the tumans with him and Arik-Boke’s anger. Yet if he came across the tail of Kublai’s army and failed to take the chance, he would look like a fool or a coward. He was caught between impossible choices and so did nothing, letting time make his decision for him.
In the distance, on his left side, his attention snagged on a blur in the air. Alandar turned round to stare and his expression changed slowly as he realised what he was looking at.
‘Tell me I’m right that I can see dust beyond those hills, Ferikh.’
The general squinted. His long sight was not as sharp as it had once been, but he made a tube with his hands and focused down it, an old scout’s trick.
‘Has to be a large force to send up a cloud like that,’ he said. ‘Judging by where we saw the first ones, they’d be in about the right position to hit our flank.’
Alandar breathed out in relief. He would have a victory to report to the khan after all.
‘Then I think we’ll see some fighting today. Send five thousand between the hills after the ones we saw first. Let them think they’ve fooled us. The main tumans can cut through … there.’ He pointed to a break in the green hills that would allow him to swing round and attack the army making the dust rise. ‘Go slowly, general. If it’s Kublai’s main force, we’ll stay out of range, ready to disengage. It will be enough to hold them in place until the khan reaches us.’
Alandar looked east, behind him, where the rest of Arik-Boke’s army would be riding in support. ‘We should have four more tumans coming up soon, then the khan’s own tumans. The last will be here sometime after noon tomorrow. I’ll give new orders as they arrive.’
Ferikh sensed the relief in the orlok at being able to make a decision. He bowed his head briefly, already enjoying the thought of confounding those who had tried to fool the khan’s own army.
Five minghaans pushed forward towards the first valley and then Alandar gave the order for his main tumans to swing round and dash for the break in the hills. They surged into a gallop and the expressions of the warriors were cheerful with anticipation. They had all seen the faint trace of dust by then and they were already imagining the false khan’s confusion as they appeared from a different direction, falling like wolves onto his flank.
Alandar was in the first line that entered the cleft, his tumans thundering behind him. He thought he had seen through whatever ruse Kublai was intending, but he was still aware that Kublai’s entire force outnumbered his. Even so, he could not shake the sense of satisfaction that he could spring a trap on those who sought to fool him. He had not risen to command the khan’s armies by making mistakes. For a moment, he thought of Mongke’s orlok, Seriankh. He had been removed from authority for losing his master and fought somewhere in the ranks. Alandar still thought the man was lucky to have kept his life.
Alandar passed into the shadowed ground, with steepening slopes rising on either side. Somewhere ahead and to the right would be a force of warriors riding to surprise his tumans. He leaned forward in the saddle, his hand dropping to the long sword that slapped against his mount’s flank. The land began to open out and in the sunlight he could see a green valley before him. In the distance, he thought he could hear sounds of battle as his minghaans met and clashed with the false group he had been meant to attack. Bows bent on either side of him as his warriors prepared a crushing volley of shafts. For a time they would ride without reins, using only their knees to guide the ponies at full gallop. Alandar could feel the moment when all four hooves left the ground as a rhythm beneath him. He would not use a bow that day, though he had one strapped to his saddle. He felt the excitement of the men around him, the quick breaths of air that seemed suddenly cold as the hills fell away and his front rank plunged out
