The White Horde had reached the battlefield.
At three hundred meters, Batu could make out the shape of events more than details. Orda's riders were driving themselves into the Rus eastern flank, arrows flashing as dark flickers against the pale spring grass while the Rus formation lost cohesion under the pressure, its lines compressing inward as men tried to hold ground that no longer fit the numbers standing on it.
Four hundred meters west, Torghul's dust column had become something more dangerous. The banners were visible now, no longer hidden inside the dust.
Near Batu's position, the Rus consolidated force still held together.
The Khar Kheshig steppe riders loosed their next volley.
The druzhina cavalry absorbed it like professionals.
