Morevna, and thumped her clenched fist against her thigh. “Damn them, they’re heading for Ryazan! They’re trying to sack the city!”
“And this is winter,” Ivan said grimly. “Nobody expects a Tatar raid in winter. The gates will be open, the guards half-asleep… Never mind trying, the bastards might just do it! Unless we take them in flank, now.”
Mar’ya Morevna thanked Torghul, gave him silver – it was her custom to pay the nomad scouts on the spot – and dismissed him, then looked at Ivan sharply. “Vanya, we’re in a prepared position here. The whole purpose was to draw the Tatars into a trap. Now you’re proposing we throw all that aside?”
“You heard the man. A score of scores, counted ten times. They’ve got four thousand men, we’ve almost ten.”
“They have four thousand horse to three hundred, with the rest of our army on foot. That’s why we brought the gulyagorod all this way, why we set up this trap in the first place. To negate the advantage of mobility with the advantage of surprise.”
“So they’re ignoring a threat on their flank because they know we won’t come after them? If that’s the case, I say let’s go. The advantage of surprise, remember?”
“Now you’re starting to sound like one of your own bogatyri ,” said Mar’ya Morevna, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. “Brave as badgers, every one of them, but solid oak between the ears and no more notion of tactics than a, than a —”
“A bull at a gate?”
“I was going to say, a Frankish knight who thinks his honour’s at stake, but there’s not much difference. Well, maybe there is. The bull knows to stop when it hurts.”
“And?”
“And the army stays right where it is. At least we know the Tatars haven’t been waiting for us to freeze, and we know that they’re outnumbered, even if not outmanoeuvred. But if they’re using the route I think they are, we may be able to move the trap around the prey rather than have to entice it in.”
“That depends on how well you know this area.”
“Remember my map?” Ivan nodded; it was hard to forget a piece of cartography that could draw, correct and then re-draw itself as a landscape was described. Useful enough, but unsettling until one got used to it and Ivan hadn’t, not yet. “I studied that map before we left Khorlov, so I know the Principality of Ryazan well enough to suspect they’re using the rivers.”
“Rivers …?” echoed Ivan, not seeing the connection for an instant. Then it hit him. “Of course! A city has a river running near or through it, and with the ice this thick, the Tatars might as well have a paved road laid for them. And it’s a road that goes around the hills and through the forests.”
“There. I was right. I’ll teach you to be an officer and a tactician one of these fine days.”
“Hah. But what I can’t understand is why they haven’t tried a winter raid before, if everything’s so convenient? Tell me that, teacher.”
Mar’ya Morevna shrugged elaborately, as if it was expected. “I would if I could, but I can’t. Maybe it never occurred to them until now. Maybe there’s some new small khan with new big ideas. Maybe Tatars don’t need to keep warm in the winter as much as they used to. Take your pick.” She stalked towards the gaggle of captains, nodding acknowledgement of various salutes, and threw back her hood before settling her helmet – kept comfortably warm beside the brazier – back onto her carefully-braided hair. “Before I come to any theoretical conclusions I’m going to see for myself.”
“So am I,” said Ivan, reaching for his own helmet. The prospect of spying on a Tatar war-band was no less unnerving than standing and waiting for them had been, but with one vital difference: he would be doing something. No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bulky figure in furs and armour left his place beside the brazier and placed himself politely but firmly between Ivan
“And this is winter,” Ivan said grimly. “Nobody expects a Tatar raid in winter. The gates will be open, the guards half-asleep… Never mind trying, the bastards might just do it! Unless we take them in flank, now.”
Mar’ya Morevna thanked Torghul, gave him silver – it was her custom to pay the nomad scouts on the spot – and dismissed him, then looked at Ivan sharply. “Vanya, we’re in a prepared position here. The whole purpose was to draw the Tatars into a trap. Now you’re proposing we throw all that aside?”
“You heard the man. A score of scores, counted ten times. They’ve got four thousand men, we’ve almost ten.”
“They have four thousand horse to three hundred, with the rest of our army on foot. That’s why we brought the gulyagorod all this way, why we set up this trap in the first place. To negate the advantage of mobility with the advantage of surprise.”
“So they’re ignoring a threat on their flank because they know we won’t come after them? If that’s the case, I say let’s go. The advantage of surprise, remember?”
“Now you’re starting to sound like one of your own bogatyri ,” said Mar’ya Morevna, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. “Brave as badgers, every one of them, but solid oak between the ears and no more notion of tactics than a, than a —”
“A bull at a gate?”
“I was going to say, a Frankish knight who thinks his honour’s at stake, but there’s not much difference. Well, maybe there is. The bull knows to stop when it hurts.”
“And?”
“And the army stays right where it is. At least we know the Tatars haven’t been waiting for us to freeze, and we know that they’re outnumbered, even if not outmanoeuvred. But if they’re using the route I think they are, we may be able to move the trap around the prey rather than have to entice it in.”
“That depends on how well you know this area.”
“Remember my map?” Ivan nodded; it was hard to forget a piece of cartography that could draw, correct and then re-draw itself as a landscape was described. Useful enough, but unsettling until one got used to it and Ivan hadn’t, not yet. “I studied that map before we left Khorlov, so I know the Principality of Ryazan well enough to suspect they’re using the rivers.”
“Rivers …?” echoed Ivan, not seeing the connection for an instant. Then it hit him. “Of course! A city has a river running near or through it, and with the ice this thick, the Tatars might as well have a paved road laid for them. And it’s a road that goes around the hills and through the forests.”
“There. I was right. I’ll teach you to be an officer and a tactician one of these fine days.”
“Hah. But what I can’t understand is why they haven’t tried a winter raid before, if everything’s so convenient? Tell me that, teacher.”
Mar’ya Morevna shrugged elaborately, as if it was expected. “I would if I could, but I can’t. Maybe it never occurred to them until now. Maybe there’s some new small khan with new big ideas. Maybe Tatars don’t need to keep warm in the winter as much as they used to. Take your pick.” She stalked towards the gaggle of captains, nodding acknowledgement of various salutes, and threw back her hood before settling her helmet – kept comfortably warm beside the brazier – back onto her carefully-braided hair. “Before I come to any theoretical conclusions I’m going to see for myself.”
“So am I,” said Ivan, reaching for his own helmet. The prospect of spying on a Tatar war-band was no less unnerving than standing and waiting for them had been, but with one vital difference: he would be doing something. No sooner had the words left his mouth than a bulky figure in furs and armour left his place beside the brazier and placed himself politely but firmly between Ivan
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