Two more months passed before Karakorum finally answered, and when it did, it spoke through the official channels, carrying the Great Khan's own seal.
During that time the Majar plain had crept steadily closer. Zhao's scouts had already begun marking the safest fords across the last rivers between the army and the open steppe. Subutai still spent most mornings riding with the forward screen, just as he always did while the next objective remained weeks away. There was no reason to change what already worked.
The summons arrived tucked among the week's ordinary dispatches, buried between a supply count from the depot and a short note from Dorbei about winter forage.
On its face, it seemed straightforward. Every senior prince of the blood was ordered to travel to Karakorum and stand before the full court.
Batu understood the purpose immediately.
