Batzorig turned to his men. "The shalgah (assessment) is complete. The ilgeemj is false. We ride north. The real test begins now."
Baasan nodded, slipped from his saddle, and tumbled down the slope, crying out in pain. The caravan halted. The leader — a thin, hawk-nosed man in a faded deel — dismounted and walked toward the "injured" rider. mongol shuudan ilgeemj shalgah
"Three days late," whispered Baasan, the youngest. His breath fogged in the cold. Batzorig turned to his men
Baasan coughed, stood up, and limped back toward the rocks. We ride north
Batzorig lowered the spyglass. "Baasan, ride ahead. Fall off your horse. Play injured. Get close enough to smell the wax."
He drew the bow. The arrow whistled as it flew, a sound like a screaming eagle.
"Report," Batzorig said when he returned.