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wounded men and horses, the lull was more sickening than peaceful. The Shou infantry stayed on the line, breaking formation only to help the wounded and gather barbarian survivors into groups of prisoners.
    Batu looked again toward the hilltop. There was still no sign of reinforcements. The general knew that the Army of Chukei’s role as bait was not yet finished.
    He turned to his adjutant and pointed at the body-littered field. “Send a runner down the line. Officers must reform their units, detailing only one man in ten to aid the wounded. Take no prisoners. If a barbarian can lift a sword, slay him.”
    Pe frowned at the harshness of the command, but simply said, “It will be done.” He turned to obey.
    Batu caught his adjutant’s shoulder. “One more thing: recall what is left of the archers. Remind me to write the emperor commending their courage.”
    The young man’s eyes lit. “Then we are going to survive the battle, my general?”
    Batu looked at his army’s butchered line. “The rest of this war will be too marvelous to miss, Pe.”
    As his adjutant passed the orders on, the general contemplated the carnage before him. Considering the small size of the barbarian charge, it had been a bloody battle so far. Judging from what he could see, Batu estimated his casualties at between thirty and fifty percent.
    The fight was far from over, the general knew. By disrupting the drummers, the archers had fouled a carefully organized withdrawal. The enemy would not have planned such an operation unless it was timed to coincide with another maneuver, such as an attack on an exposed flank. As much as the general hated to admit it, Kwan had been right not to spring his trap when the barbarians charged. If the minister had sent in the reinforcements, the other Shou armies—not the barbarians—would have been hit in the flank.
    While he waited for his adjutant to return, Batu inspected the marsh. Except for a thin screen that remained at the battlefield’s edge, the cavalrymen had cut down all the reeds. Bundles lay stacked in great heaps, easily accessible and ready for use.
    When Pe returned, the general gave another order. “The cavalry can stop cutting rushes. They are to remove the tack from their horses and fasten it to a reed bundle. Then they must release their mounts.”
    The general was not issuing the order out of sympathy for the beasts. If events proceeded as he expected, five hundred horses would be an unwelcome hindrance in the reed bed.
    Pe balked. “How will we counterattack?”
    “If the minister’s plan works, there will be no need to counterattack,” Batu replied, glancing at the hilltop behind him. “If it doesn’t, there will be no opportunity.”
    Pe nodded and sent a runner with the order.
    After the messenger left, Batu said, “Come, Pe. We’ll need a better vantage point to see what happens next.” He started toward the hill.
    The ground began to tremble.
    Pe stared at his feet in wide-eyed fear. “What is it?”
    Batu frowned, looking first at his own feet, then at the battlefield. The surviving archers, fewer than a hundred men, were hurrying toward the marsh. They stopped and looked at the ground, then turned around. A murmur ran down the battle line. The infantrymen looked west, toward the exposed flank. Those who still had crossbows began reloading them. The others drew their swords.
    “War magic?” Pe asked, barely able to keep the terror from his voice.
    Batu shook his head. “More cavalry—much more.” The general started up the hill at a sprint, Pe and a handful of messengers close behind.
    They stopped one hundred feet up the slope. The ground was shaking as if it were in the grip of an earth tremor, and the sound of pounding hooves rolled across the field like thunder. Beyond the exposed flank, a horde of horsemen was charging at full gallop. Their dark figures covered the entire plain. From Batu’s perspective, they looked more like a swarm of locust than an invading