Manfred had never seriously weighed his own mortality. He would live or die. It was a philosophy that was common among the Celts with their rather inverse view of the world and afterlife. What he found himself doing, on this expedition, was to suddenly start thinking of the mortality of others, and he didn't like his own conclusions. These were men who had come thinking they were merely providing an escort, and now they were running for their lives. The reality was that the knights were going to be easy to follow, and outnumber. This was the Golden Horde's country; they would have all the advantages. "Erik," he said, riding up next to his bodyguard and mentor. "Should we try scattering? As a group we have very little chance to avoid being followed. A solitary knight or three might get across that river."
Erik was silent. And then shook his head. "I have considered it, Manfred. Look, it is possible that I may still have to try and get you away, and leave the rest to make as long and messy stand as possible. I don't like the idea, but Falkenberg has already suggested it. But the reality is that the knights would be easy prey on their own. Only Kari and myself have much in the way of skills needed to move undetected across enemy terrain. Talking to Bortai, they'll use their ten man squads-Arbans-to hunt us. They've cleared a lot of the forest for grazing lands. The country is fairly open as a result, and they're mobile and fast. This is, sadly, what they do best. They train their soldiers in these massive hunting exercises in which they enclose a huge area and then literally close in and kill everything. The entire point of the excercise is not to let any game at all escape. We're going to be that game, unless we can keep breaking their line and heading north.
"Looking at the stars, we're heading west."
"Northwest. There's rougher country up there, towards the border of Hungary. Still a few areas of dense forest-apparently more so further south, unfortunately. Better for us to fort up if we can find a defensible site-because that's the other possibility. We get the Mongol away-Bortai and her brother, with Tulkun. The woman has already showed she's pretty expert at evading pursuit of any kind. They may, or may not, be able to raise her clan to come to our assistance. Tulkun seems to think that they would. I suppose it depends on what actual credibility the clan puts on the word of a woman and a boy, and a Mongol from another Horde. Tulkun is a good fighter but he's no ambassador. And the truth is that the Mongols don't seem to put much value on non-Mongols."
"It does seem a little extreme, and a fairly thin hope," said Manfred.
"Our hope here is very thin," agreed Erik.
"Judging by the temperature tonight-having roasted us a few days ago, we might just get snow to rescue us too," said Manfred.
Erik nodded. "It'll be dropping off a lot faster in those mountains we can see. I've wondered just whether it might not be worth taking our chances up there with Emeric's Hungarian forces. They might allow you to be ransomed."
"Emeric… not after Corfu," said Manfred. "Not for all the money in the west." Anyway, he thought to himself, perhaps he had some value, but the others would be killed. They might as well take their chances here in lands of Golden Horde. And with a bit of luck… get away to Illyria. While there was life, there was hope. It was a platitude, but he was not Celt enough to give in to fatalism just yet.
Erik was not relying on hope. Rather he was relying on rivers, forest and booby traps, and the knights' experience in signaling to each other by means of horn-calls. Kari was off scouting soErik split his small force in two… which, on the face of it, seemed like insanity. But there was logic in his insanity. The two parties had the same point as an objective. They'd be relatively close to each other. And if one of the two columns encountered scouts who were foolish enough to engage or be seen, horn-talk would see to it that they could act as relief for each other. Even if one group ran into a large group that surrounded them, the Golden Horde Mongols would scatter from a direct charge. That seemed a given and sensible tactic. The heavier horses and armor of the knights meant that they could punch through Golden Horde ranks-it just wasn't expected to do the heavier knights any good. The Golden Horde would reform and pick them off, one by one. Numbers, and a lack of any near-at-hand refuge were on the side of their pursuers. But perhaps, just perhaps, flexibility was on theirs.
Bortai struggled with her decision-making. She and Kildai could move faster than this. They had remounts. Not of the quality of the Knight's horses but still better than no remounts. And the Golden Horde ponies had more stamina, and carried less weight. Should they leave the knights? Allow them to ride rearguard? Go to call the Hawk Clan-or rather the remanents of it, to their rescue? The flaw, besides the lack of honor in this course, was that the orkhan was not that stupid. She'd bet that flanking Mingghans had been sent riding north. There would be, of course, an element of doubt in the minds of the orkhan's generals. Would these foreigners flee north or try to recross the great river? But her presence-and Kildai's presence, would make Northward seem likely. She saw how the party was split, and the direction they were taking. The heavy country against the mountains would favor the smaller party in some ways. Erik was a shrewd Orkhan. He just needed more scouts. It seemed logical to offer her services, as well as Tulkun's. Erik seemed a little taken aback. "But… you are a…" he struggled, either with the concept or the language, "lady," he said, eventually.
"Do ladies not do such things among your people? I am a Mongol of the Hawk clan. In war a woman must do what there are no men to do. That means we must fight and ride now."
"Um." Erik took a deep breath. "It's not quite like that with us. But… well when we fought on Corfu… I learned that necessity can make deadly fighters of women. Thalia… A friend's wife, showed us that. If you will scout a path ahead for us, Lady, we would be grateful. You will ride with her, Tulkun? I would be happier with a warrior…" he seemed to realize he was saying the wrong thing, and stopped.
Tulkun beamed. "She could kill me, Erik."
The Ilkhan Mongol at least knew that. But it appeared that he knew her lineage. They had talked about wrestling. Princess Khutulun was a legend. Khutulun had defeated scores of suitors before Ulughachi had arrived at her father's gers, without the horses to make the wager… and still she had taken his challenge. Bortai had always wondered just why her great grandmother had lost. Bortai had a strong inclination to take on this mercenary Orkhan and show him a thing or two. Perhaps she would if they won free of this mess, even if he was one of the lesser peoples. An odd thought tickled her mind: what would she do, if, by some fluke, he won? Intermarriage happened… but never that way around.
Erik explained what he wanted, what natural defenses he was looking for. He was good, Bortai acknowledged. The Mongol strategy here would be to get onto the flattest most open country and run. But Erik clearly understood that they could not do that, and that the people tracking them followed stray livestock when they were not at war. She wondered what the Hawk clan and its allies-if it still had any, were doing now. Normally the clans would disperse for winter. Family groups would move the herds to lower lands. But now… now she would bet the gers were being moved into the foothills and the clan was gathering for the war that seemed inevitable. Inevitable and wrong.