The Mongols were more methodical about their approach to the Viking encampment than I’d expected. They left pockets of sizable men at certain intervals, people responsible for hunting down anyone attempting to escape and reinforcements if needed. Without the Azi-fey spying on their discussions, I wouldn’t have known the reason for these pockets of men or the strategic reasoning of Ogedei.

The plan was to draw them out - to bait the Norse soldiers into following the Mongols, who would make it appear they were retreating in fear. Ogedei had decided on ambush as the most effective means to destroy Ragnar Lodbrok’s army, to get them to open their gates and allow his men to gain entrance.

He had no interest in accepting surrender. His anger and honor wouldn’t allow that. Waiting for months for the Khan to send permission for the invasion of Norse lands had only fueled Ogedei’s anger. And given him time to plan.

The anger I helped fuel with the Azi-fey. I had them sabotaging the camp and ruining morale. Their actions were subtle, like increasing the heat of cooking fires, so dinners were burnt or undercooked, stealing items that caused accusations and infighting, and enticing horses into areas less guarded and often attacked by wolves.

The Mongols were not the most hygienic people, and the Azi-fey exploited that by tainting their drinking water and feeding rhubarb leaves to their horses. It created a mix of man and horse, both sick and needing treatment.

The sabotaging I had my people do wasn’t meant to do serious harm. I wanted the Mongols healthy and able to attack once the Khan gave permission, but each incident they were forced to deal with made them angrier and resent the Norse more.

When the message from the Khan arrived, giving Ogedei permission to invade the Norse lands, he marshaled his troops. The messenger had arrived near dusk, but Ogedei was still ruled by his passions and had his men move out. The wait, which should have cooled emotions, had only inflamed them instead.

They would have to ford the river without a reliable crossing. The Norse hadn’t mastered the technology necessary to build bridges, and Caesar hadn’t seen a reason to share Roman construction techniques.

Ogedei had already had his men scout the area and found a part of the river that would allow his men to cross without issue. The current wasn’t too fast, and although the horses would need to swim, the distance wasn’t so far that it would cause any delays.

The Azi-fey and I followed. Invisible and ready to sow confusion. I would intervene if one side or the other overwhelmingly oppressed the other. I had no interest in a crushing defeat. I wanted both armies to be entrenched in a protractive war.

“The Norse have spotted us, Boyan,” a scout reported. I had moved close enough to Ogedei, hidden under spells and illusions to hide my presence, to better grasp what he was planning. It also made it easier for me to use illusion to disrupt his battle plans if I needed.

What Ogedei ordered and what his men might hear was a simple spell of misdirection. Made even easier now that [Illusion] was mine to command.

“I’m surprised it took this long,” Ogedei mused. “Why would they not have left scouts near our camp?”

“I believe they put great faith in the river to block our path,” Subutai suggested.

Subutai was an interesting character. Born as part of the Uriankhai, the reindeer people, he had been assigned as Ogedei’s second because of his familiarity with the lands of the Kievan Rus. The Uriankhai were used to the hardships and harsh winters that most of Kievan Rus endured and knew how to survive those harsh winters.

Subutai himself was a strategist, ruled by logic when it came to warfare. He was often suggesting innovative tactics to command forces. The idea of baiting the Norse and attacking with hidden troops had come from him, adopted because Ogedei trusted him. That was obvious to anyone listening to their discussions and plans. Subutai had proven his abilities. His maneuvers often left foes confused, allowing his forces to prevail.

The survival rate for his troops made his men trust and respect him. Ogedei might have been jealous of the camaraderie Subutai shared with the Mongols if he didn’t have his own reputation that had earned him that same trust and respect.

“Why would they think that would still protect them after attacking and destroying our camp?” Ogedei asked in disbelief.

“They were informed of our plans to attack the Beastkin. They may think we are unaware of what has happened here. Or they believe that they were able to kill anyone that might have warned us of what had happened,” Subutai explained.

“They would have been right if that messenger hadn’t escaped. Without that warning, we would have returned months from now to find little evidence of what had happened. The Norse dead that were left behind would have been claimed by the land, and we would have been left guessing as to what had happened.”

“They had to have known we would suspect them even without evidence or proof,” Ogedei sneered.

“I think so,” Subutai replied, “but the tribute they offered would have probably protected them without proof. The Khan would not have altered his planned invasions without something more substantial than our belief.”

“But to leave no one to warn them if we returned?” Ogedei pressed.

“Perhaps they have allies we are not aware of?” Subutai mused. “Allies they think capable of routing our armies if we did attack.”

“Do you think they forged treaties with the Beastkin or Elves?” Ogedei asked, his eyes glancing furtively at the surrounding woods. An alliance of Norse, Beastkin, and Elves would be formidable, a mix of martial prowess and magical that the Mongols had no defense against.

A combination that even the Mongols would have to respect. Ogedei had access to some magic. He had a coterie of powerful Shamans, but they were primarily versed in weather and healing magics. They were animists, believing that they could interpret the signs and portents from the world around them to predict the future and little else.

The Azi-fey had discovered that they had magic affinities with weather and healing magic, but their divination practices were hit or miss at best. Their custom of sacrificing a horse and divining the future with bones was the most reliable method they practiced.

The reverence Ogedei and his people had for their horses meant that this type of sacrifice was not made lightly. They had ascribed anthropomorphic traits to their mounts, treating them with the care they reserved for family. To the Mongols, their horses held the same importance as their brothers and were always treated better than their wives.

Ogedei usually would have had his Shamans divine how effective an attack on the Norse would be. At least he would have looked for some guidance as to what day would prove auspicious, but his passions wouldn’t allow him to take the time. The Khan had decided to attack, and he fully supported that decision.

The Norse would die.

Ogedei and the Mongols would see to that. But just as many Mongols were going to die. Lives that might have been saved and losses mitigated if Ogedei had made sacrifices and allowed his Shamans to try to see the outcome of the upcoming battle were ignored. Even Subutai had failed to convince Ogedei to wait.

The spirits and ancestors would be angry at his hubris and rush to action. I would see to it.