The wrestling ground was still happening to the east when Batu came through the central section of the games area, and the sound of it went over on the warm afternoon air the same way it had the previous day. The crowd's periodic noise rose and fell with the matches, the percussion of the competition. He walked past without stopping.
The horse racing corridor was further east, the long cleared approach visible from this distance as a stripe of pressed grass against the valley floor. He looked at it once and kept moving.
That could wait. The archery was today.
The stations were on the southern margin, set out against the farthest edge of the camp's cleared ground, the range near the Orkhon's southern bend.
The target stands were at the far end of the range, carrying their sur cylinders at the designated height. Small cylinders of lacquered leather, upright on low wooden stands, spaced in their horizontal line at the standard configuration.
