Batu’s wound was, fortunately, shallow. Still, Zaya insisted that being jostled on horseback for long hours before it had fully closed was unwise. Batu looked resentful at her assessment, but there was nothing to be done. The opening phase of the western campaign would have to be entrusted to Subutai.

  There was, however, one more problem. Batu furrowed his brow and let out a long sigh.

  “Does it hurt?” Zaya asked as she packed ointments and bandages into a basket.

  “No. Not the wound.” Batu swallowed the rest of the sentence. Taghrai’s—

  He stopped himself. Whatever he was feeling, this girl must be carrying something heavier.

  “That man doesn’t matter anymore,” Zaya said brightly, on purpose. “We were never engaged. He just decided that on his own.”

  She had already settled things with Taghrai in her heart, but forgetting him would still take time.

  “…Yes. You’re right,” Batu said, though he looked as if there were more he wanted to say.

  “What is it? If something’s bothering you, just say it.” Zaya shot him a light glare. She appreciated his concern, but this half-spoken hesitation was troublesome.

  “Did he ever tell you anything about his work?” Batu asked.

  Zaya shook her head.

  “Only that the paperwork had piled up and he was overwhelmed.”

  “I asked those who assisted him, but they couldn’t make sense of it either. It seems he had been handling far too much on his own.” Batu paused, then continued.

  “I had him researching the western cities. Which ones to deal with, and how. Soon, troops from the various houses will arrive in the Ili Valley. We must assemble our forces as well. Once everyone is gathered, we march west.”

  Zaya nodded.

  “But I still don’t know the answer,” Batu said with another sigh.

  “You mean which cities to deal with, and how?” she asked. Batu nodded.

  “So,” he went on, “Norjin is an official from Karakorum. He should be accustomed to documents. Could you ask him to look through Taghrai’s desk and see if he can find anything about how the cities were meant to be handled?”

  “You could ask him yourself,” Zaya said with a laugh.

  “Documents are his profession. It would be improper for me to assign work directly to an imperial official of the central administration.”

  Zaya thought for a moment.

  “All right. I’ll ask him.”

  “I refuse.”

  “That was fast,” Zaya said flatly.

  “That’s how it is.”

  They were standing right in front of Taghrai’s work tent, yet Norjin stood there with his arms crossed, utterly unyielding.

  “Why?” Zaya pressed. She should have explained things before bringing him here. No—judging by his tone, she might not have managed to get him this far even then.

  “Batu said it would be improper for him to ask me directly, didn’t he? That’s reason enough.”

  “That’s why I’m asking,” Zaya said, trying to placate him.

  “That’s not the point. I only review documents my superior has authorized. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’m allowed to look through Ulus records at will. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “What is that supposed to mean? You break rules all the time when it suits you,” Zaya pointed out.

  A smile crept across Norjin’s face.

  “If there’s something in it for me. So tell me—what do I gain from this?”

  Zaya considered for a moment, then lightly tapped his chest with her fingertip.

  “Fine. I’ll look myself. I might not be home tonight. You can have dinner alone with my grandmother.”

  Norjin sighed.

  “What’s so enjoyable about sitting face to face with an old woman over a meal?”

  Zaya stepped lightly up to the entrance of Taghrai’s tent and lifted the flap.

  “Are you coming or not? It’s not like I said I wanted you to.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Grumbling, Norjin followed after her.

  When they entered, everyone working inside turned to stare at them. Zaya paid no attention and went straight to Taghrai’s desk. There seemed to be even more papers than the last time she had seen it. Piles were stacked so high there was scarcely any space left. Documents that would not fit on the desk were heaped on the floor and even on chairs.

  Feeling the weight of Taghrai’s subordinates’ gazes, Norjin stepped inside. He stared at the mountain of papers, then picked up one nearby sheet and skimmed it. Then another. When he finished, he tossed it back onto the pile.

  “I’ve seen enough,” he reported, glancing at Zaya—and then toward the entrance. Zaya ignored the look completely.

  “Two pages isn’t enough. Can you really tell which cities should be handled how from that?”

  Zaya picked up the papers Norjin had thrown aside. City names, primary products, wheat yields, influential figures, families, religions, seasonal festivals—information packed densely on both sides of the page. The second sheet was the same, only the city name differed. The level of detail was astonishing.

  “Incredible,” Zaya murmured despite herself.

  “Do you really need to know all that?”

  Norjin could tell the others were listening intently. To them, he and Zaya were outsiders—arriving without warning and rummaging through their dead superior’s desk. It was only natural they would be uneasy. Zaya, however, seemed not to care at all.

  “But Batu says this is what he wants to know,” she said, puzzled.

  “That’s not what Batu wants—”

  Norjin stopped himself. Criticizing how others worked would be improper. There was nothing to be gained by doing so here. Behind them, a chair scraped as someone stood.

  “I will present my findings directly to Batu.”

  Norjin left Taghrai’s work tent at a brisk pace.

  Formal audiences meant nothing to Zaya. With the familiarity of family, she pushed straight into Batu’s office. She parted the curtain slightly and peeked inside.

  “I brought Norjin. Is that all right?”

  “Oh! Good. Thank you for coming,” Batu greeted them with a smile. As Norjin placed a hand over his chest to bow, Batu waved it off.

  “No need for formalities. Zaya’s here too. So—have you figured it out already?” he asked, surprised but impatient.

  “Do you have a map of Rus?” Norjin asked.

  Batu unrolled one. Zaya leaned in as well. Norjin took up a brush and dipped it not in ink, but in water.

  “This is the gathering point—the Ili Valley. From here, moving west brings us to Volga Bulgar.”

  He drew a line with the water-soaked brush. The wet trail caught the light as it shone.

  “Here are Bulgar, Suzdal, Ryazan, Vladimir.”

  The brush glided across the map.

  “At this time of year, this area should be suitable for grazing.”

  He drew a translucent circle.

  “We establish our base here, advance along this route, winter here. Once the snow melts, we pass through here and continue on.”

  “I see. And then?” Batu prompted.

  “Any city lying along this line may be treated as a target,” Norjin said, looking down at the map.

  Batu looked up at him.

  “All of them?”

  “Is there a problem?” Norjin asked calmly. Batu crossed his arms and growled low in thought.

  “I would prefer to encourage the larger cities to submit. Their resistance will be fierce, and I want to minimize losses. Perhaps a few examples would suffice. Which cities would you choose?”

  A hard edge entered Batu’s voice.

  “As you wish,” Norjin replied with a faint smile. A city’s fate lay with its lord, not with him. Hearing their reply and deciding what to do after—that was Batu’s task.

  “Taghrai has already conveyed our terms. All that remains is to hear their answer. They have had time to think. If they submit, they will provide provisions and troops. If not—”

  Norjin let the sentence trail off. Batu laughed.

  “Well now. No wonder Lord Yelü values you so highly.”

  “You honor me,” Norjin said, bowing politely.

  Norjin left Batu’s office with graceful composure. Zaya followed.

  “You figured all that out from just two pages?” she asked, unable to hide her amazement.

  “Two pages are enough. They all say the same thing.”

  Zaya nodded. Norjin continued as they walked.

  “You saw it. For someone like Batu—a decision-maker—too much detail only gets in the way. He already has more choices to make than anyone should. Taghrai’s role should have been to make judgment easier.”

  “That’s true,” Zaya said thoughtfully.

  “It felt less like materials meant to help Batu decide, and more like documents designed to force through Taghrai’s own conclusions.”

  “You mean he was deciding in Batu’s place? That seems hard to believe.”

  “Not at all. There are countless ministers who rule kings that way.”

  Zaya studied Norjin’s profile. He knew a world she did not.

  “Taghrai was probably opposed to the western campaign,” Norjin went on. “If he couldn’t stop it, he wanted to minimize Rus’ losses.”

  He paused.

  “Or perhaps he simply tried to see too far ahead—and broke under it.”

  Zaya remembered going to Suzdal with Taghrai. It should have been a black chapter she never wanted to recall, yet it no longer hurt. Taghrai had loved Rus. He had looked genuinely happy in Suzdal. She could understand why he didn’t want to see it plundered and destroyed. Zaya felt a quiet pity for him.

  Watching the watery lines Norjin had drawn dry and vanish from the map, Batu thought of the consideration behind using water instead of ink.

  Taghrai had been a capable man—always prepared with an answer.

  But Norjin was on another level entirely. An answer Taghrai had failed to reach even after months had been produced in moments. Not every official from Karakorum could be like that—but still.

  I want that man.