Pe looked at the reed bed and frowned. "We'll be trapped against the river!"

Batu smiled. "That is why you and the other officers must remove your k'ai."

Pe lifted his brow in sudden comprehension, then grimaced in concern. "General, the river is flooding. You'd be mad to ford it under pursuit!"

"Let us hope the barbarians believe the same thing," Batu replied. "Give the orders to the runners, then wait for me at the marsh."

Pe started to bow, but Batu caught him by the shoulder. "One more thing. In case their k'ai has also been in their families for three hundred years, remind the officers that my orders must be followed. Anyone who disobeys will be remembered as a traitor, not as a hero."

"Yes, General," Pe replied, finishing his bow and turning to the messengers. His attitude no longer seemed defiant, but Batu knew his adjutant was far from happy about the commands he had been given.

As six runners relayed the orders to the field officers, Pe headed for the reed bed. The general stayed on the hill a while longer to observe the adjustments. When the archers and cavalry left their positions, hundreds of baffled faces glanced up toward him. Batu thought the cavalry and archers probably realized that they had been assigned to prepare a retreat. What they could not understand, he imagined, was why. In the eight years Batu had commanded the Army of Chukei, it had never retreated. But it had never faced a capable enemy, or been used to bait an ill-prepared trap before either.

The general knew that Kwan might be correct and the Tuigan force might amount to no more than fifteen or twenty thousand untrained men.