The breach revealed itself in the formation's density before Batu could make out individual riders.
Orda's line had folded back together, cavalry pressing inward from both sides where the gap had been, but the opening still showed. That told him everything he needed to know.
The wedge had broken through.
The men who had driven it were already moving north across open ground toward the Moskva, and the distance between them and their pursuers was widening rather than shrinking.
He adjusted the thought.
Growing. The gap was growing.
The reason was obvious even from the rise.
The breach had left wreckage behind it. Fallen horses blocked the easiest routes forward. Men wounded in the close fighting struggled to crawl clear of the churned ground. Bodies, broken equipment, and frightened mounts created a knot of obstacles that slowed every rider trying to follow.
The survivors had gained a lead, and the battlefield itself was helping them keep it.
