The fire had been going for an hour and the airag skin had made two full rounds by the time anyone said anything worth saying. The camp around them had its night sounds of horses on the pasture, low voices from other fires across the dark, the creak of equipment being set down by men who had carried it for days and were grateful to stop.

Orkhon was at Gal’s left with his arm in the physician’s linen binding, the stub finally out after the raid. He was drinking from the skin with his right hand and not mentioning the arm.

Across the fire, a rider named Nasan was cleaning dried blood from his saber with a cloth, working it into the fuller in long strokes. He had been at this since before the fire caught properly.

Next to him, Chaqu was eating from his travel pouch with the focused attention of who had not eaten thoroughly for days.

Nasan looked at Orkhon’s arm.

"Heard you carried that stub through the whole city with it in your forearm," he said.

"Yes," Orkhon said.

"And you didn’t say anything about it."

"What was there to say?"

"I don’t know. Something. Son of a bitch, that hurts, anything."

Orkhon held the skin out to Gal. "It hurt. I wasn’t going to say so in front of all of you."

Nasan laughed and went back to the saber. "We went through the gate together. You could’ve said it then."

"We were busy."

"Just a little," Nasan agreed.

He looked at Gal. "You saw the first horse go down? The one from the tower shot? No stumble, nothing, just legs stop, whole animal straight down."

"I saw it," Gal said.

"I’ve never seen that before. I’ve seen horses fall a hundred ways. Not like that."

"It went straight down the neck," Gal said. "Gets into the right place, that’s what happens."

Chaqu looked up from his pouch. "The gate was still burning when I went through. Got close enough to feel it."

"Man two positions ahead of me hit it," Nasan said. "Coat was on fire for ten, fifteen strides. He didn’t even look down."

"Where is he now?"

"Sleeping, last I saw him. He’s fine."

Nasan set the cloth aside and looked at the blade in the firelight. "What’d they put in that pitch? Burns like hell."

The fire cracked. The skin went around again.

"I heard you cornered the garrison commander into the north wall," Chaqu said to Gal. He said it without looking up, the way he said most things.

"He cornered himself into it. We just followed."

"Was he any good?"

Gal thought about it.

"He was good. Organized his men at the gate, held the granary line until both ends broke, pulled his center back in good order. Did everything right."

He picked up a stick and moved a log further into the fire.

"Didn’t matter."

"They fight well," Chaqu said. "The Bulgars. Better than I thought."

"Some of them have experience," Gal said. "They just didn’t have enough of them."

"From the previous raids?"

"Yes. But not a lot survived those and can still fight to this day."

Chaqu’s mouth moved. He went back to eating.

Nasan had put the saber down and was looking at the far edge of the firelight where the dark began. "You ever see the guard up close? The big ones?"

"Everyone’s seen them," Orkhon said.

"The tall one. Einar. I watched him wrestle at the kurultai. Ten matches, didn’t lose one."

Nasan shook his head. "What does a man eat to get that big?"

"Whatever he wants," Orkhon said.

"I heard he went up the tower stairs," Nasan said. "On the walkway."

"He was in the clearance group," Gal said. "I don’t know what he did specifically."

"Someone said he threw the archers. Dropped straight down outside."

Chaqu looked up. "From the tower platform?"

"That’s what someone said."

"How far did he thrown?"

"Far enough," Gal said.

Nasan turned the saber over and looked at the other side. "What do you make of him? Batu Khan."

The fire popped. No one answered immediately.

"He was outside the gate the whole time," Nasan said. "Didn’t come through."

"That’s what some commanders do," Orkhon said. "He was forward enough."

"I mean he doesn’t ride with us. Doesn’t drink at fires."

"He rides that white horse from Ogedei," Chaqu said, returning to his pouch. "Daichin. I’ve seen it. It’s enormous."

"I know what horse it is."

"I’m saying he doesn’t need to explain himself to you," Chaqu said. "He got it right four days in a row. The outer positions, the earthworks, the gate, the granary. All of it working the way he said it would. That’s enough."

"I’m not complaining," Nasan said. "I’m just saying he’s strange."

"He’s a khan," Orkhon said. "They’re all eccentric."

"Not like this one."

Gal looked at the fire. He thought about the earthworks, the gate, the fight in the avenue and the granary, the commander at the north wall. He thought about the plan Batu had named at the Sarai before they had crossed the ford, every piece of it in the right order.

The pieces had all been where Batu said they would be.

"He doesn’t throw you away," Gal said. "That’s what I know about him."

Nasan sat with that for a moment.

"Fair enough," he said.

Chaqu had finished eating and was folding the pouch back. "What’d anyone get from the city? I got nothing. Was too far back when the recall went."

"I got nothing either," Nasan said.

He reached into his coat and produced a small silver buckle, the kind used on a horse’s bridle. "Found this on the lane north of the gate. Someone dropped it."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it. I was at the gate the whole time. No time to look for anything."

"I got nothing," Gal said. "Front of every formation, nothing to show for it."

"That’s what happens when you volunteer for the front," Orkhon said.

"I didn’t volunteer."

"You volunteered the first time and now you’re stuck."

Nasan laughed. Chaqu looked at the buckle. "That’s worth something, at least."

"It’s worth a buckle," Nasan said.

He put it back in his coat.

"The grain in the supply column," Chaqu said. "How does that work? Does any of it come back to us?"

"It goes to the depot," Gal said. "Sarai."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

Chaqu was quiet for a moment. "Hell."

"We’re paid," Orkhon said. "That’s the deal." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"I know it’s the deal. I was hoping the deal had some flexibility."

"It doesn’t," Gal said.

The fire had settled lower. Nasan put another piece of wood onto it and the flame came back briefly. From somewhere across the camp a horse moved, the sound of its hooves on the pasture carrying in the still night air.

"Where do we go after this?" Nasan said. "After the Bulgars."

"West," Gal said.

"West to what?"

"Rus cities. Then further."

"How far?"

"Far."

Nasan looked at the fire. "Someone told me it takes a year of riding to reach the far end."

"Whoever told you that doesn’t know," Chaqu said.

"Do you know?"

"No. But I know nobody’s been that far, so nobody actually knows how long it takes."

"We’re going to find out," Gal said.

Chaqu looked up at him. "You’re not worried about it?"

"We did this," Gal said.

He gestured broadly at the night, at the camp, at the reeds somewhere to the west where Suvar’s granary smoke was still drifting upward. "We’ll do the next one."

"The next one is bigger," Nasan said.

"I know."

Torghul’s voice came from somewhere outside the firelight, not raised, carrying the way a voice carried when it didn’t need to be raised.

"Get some sleep. All of you."

The word moved through the camp’s sections. Men at other fires began moving. Nasan set the cleaned saber aside and pulled his coat around him. Chaqu lay back without ceremony and put his arm over his eyes.

Gal lay back and looked up at the sky. The stars were full above the steppe, enormous the way they were on open ground with no walls around them.

"Lighter now," Orkhon said beside him.

Gal looked over. Orkhon had his wrapped arm across his chest and his eyes closed.

"The arm?"

"The arm," Orkhon said. "Night, Gal."

The fire was coals before long. The camp had nothing at it but low light and the sound of horses.