The third clan's riders came south along the road to meet them before the morning had gone far.
They numbered around two hundred, formed in a loose body that spread across the track and the dry grass on both sides of it. Their headman rode at the front, a broad man on a grey horse, and he pulled up when Batu's formation came into view ahead of him.
He waited there for Batu to close the distance.
"You sent the rider," Batu said when he reached him.
"He left before first light," the headman said. "The moment I could confirm what was on the road."
"How far did they get when you last had eyes on them."
"Half a day's ride north of where you'll find them now. That was before dark." He looked past Batu down the road.
"They were moving toward the convoy. They knew where it was going."
"Your riders stay on the left of the road," Batu said. "They hold the western ground when we engage. Nothing breaks west."
The headman looked at him for a moment. "Understood."
