Chapter 218: Khüree Tsereg
The city watch barracks stood at the southern side of the military district.
Batu noticed the difference as soon as he arrived. The building was newer than the military barracks by two construction cycles, and the timber made that obvious.
The garrison barracks had been built from older-cut wood that had already survived at least one winter before assembly. The watch barracks used fresh-cut pine. The joints were still pale, and a faint scent of resin lingered even in the cold air.
The structure itself was smaller sat closer to the road leading toward the administrative district. Men leaving for patrol could reach the city’s main streets without passing through the deeper sections of the military district.
Batu noted the choice and kept walking.
Outside the barracks, the training ground revealed what the watch was practicing. Felt rope had been laid directly onto the snow to mark an approximated city’s main street grid.
Two columns of men moved through the grounds in pairs. Their pace immediately told Batu what the exercise was meant to teach.
The pairs walked steadily, neither rushing nor drifting. Each team reached the end of its assigned lane, turned, returned, then waited at designated corners until the other pairs completed their own rounds.
The coordination lacked the sharp precision of cavalry drills, but that wasn’t the goal. They were learning a different skill. When to move, when to remain visible, and how to cover ground without treating every street like open country.
Batu stopped at the edge of the training ground and watched.
Among the pairs he spotted some of Kirsa’s original riders. He recognized them immediately by posture and movement.
They were older now, broader through the chest than the recruits beside them. The veterans moved as though the work already belonged to them. The newer men kept glancing at their partners, checking for assurance. They understood the instructions, but they hadn’t yet developed confidence in them.
Kirsa himself emerged from the barracks soon after. The direction he came from told Batu he had already noticed his arrival.
He didn’t hurry. There was no reason to. A captain who acted urgent when nothing was urgent only created confusion.
He stopped at Batu’s right side and watched the drill in silence for a few moments.
Eventually, he started to talk, "They slow down before reaching the corners, but then they rush the turn to recover the time. It’s a habit from the steppe, men want to cross open ground quickly. We’re trying to train that out of them."
"It’ll settle."
Kirsa studied the nearest pair as they completed another turn.
"It will."
They stood together without speaking.
The cold had appeared into the season now. Each breath carried winter into Batu’s chest. Across the training ground, boots compressed snow in a steady rhythm that traveled clearly through the still morning air.
Then Kirsa said, "I’m done with conquest."
His attention followed the pairs along the rope-marked streets. A younger recruit in the second lane was overcorrecting with his shoulders whenever he turned, and Kirsa watched it as he spoke.
"I was nineteen when my grandfather first told me about the Merkid grievance."
He paused. "I’ve spent every season since then in the field. Most of my riders are dead now."
He finally looked at Batu.
"But the few that are left, I want somewhere to let them settle down."
Batu was silent for a few seconds.
"Then you have it."
Kirsa let out a short sound that was almost a laugh.
"Perhaps I do."
"And not only for them."
Kirsa looked back to the drill. The slight shift in posture told Batu he had understood. Nothing more needed to be said about it.
After a moment he asked, "Tell me what you want this to become. I have ideas of my own, but I want yours first."
The question was exactly what Batu expected. Kirsa never pretended not to have opinions. He simply wanted to understand the structure before building within it.
After a brief pause, he started to explain, "The watch is seen before it acts. That’s the first principle. When patrols walk their routes on a regular schedule, merchants notice. Craftsmen notice. People in the gers notice. Once people know the watch is present, they start making different decisions."
Batu continued with an even tone, "The goal isn’t just to catch thieves, but to make fewer people decide to steal in the first place. Most of the watch’s work happens before an incident ever occurs."
Kirsa listened with the focused stiffness he reserved for instruction. His head tilted slightly forward. His eyes remained fixed.
The explanation continued, "When something does happen, the response has to match the situation. A drunk complaining over a cart isn’t a battle. A dispute between merchants isn’t a siege. Men trained only for campaign work tend to apply campaign solutions, they bring too much force to small problems and hurt the people they’re meant to protect."
Kirsa interjected, "There’ll be situations where that isn’t obvious. What do I give the men to guide that decision?"
Batu nodded, "You give a companion. Always two men. Never one. Two men support each other, confirm each other’s account, and represent authority together. Neither one has to escalate alone."
Kirsa pondered over it. "And when two aren’t enough? Some streets in the market district run five hundred meters without intersections. If something happens in the middle, the nearest patrol may not reach it quickly enough."
Batu had expected that question. It meant Kirsa had already walked the city and found the weak points.
"The Khüree Tsereg."
The name lingered between them. City force. Distinct from the military command. Distinct from the Khar Kheshig. Different work required different organization.
Batu explained, "The Khüree Tsereg keeps a reserve section at the barracks, enough men to reinforce a patrol when needed. The pairs carry horns, and if they need support, they sound them. The reserve responds."
Kirsa considered the name and the structure together.
"Khüree Tsereg. Good. Clear enough that nobody confuses it with your personal guard."
Batu nodded and continued, "Each pair has their fixed rounds and routes. They learn the people, their habits, the places where trouble collects. Your riders already understand the principle. The knowledge changes. The instinct doesn’t. The ground is different, but the idea is the same."
"The recruits are learning that more slowly."
"They’ll learn faster given time."
Kirsa absorbed the point immediately. Batu could almost see the command structure forming in his mind.
There was one more piece. "Every incident gets recorded. Not only because Khulgen needs reports, though he does. Three merchants on the same street report theft during the same week. A patrol might treat those as separate incidents. The records connect them."
"Who maintains the records?"
"Your command structure. Use Orel’s format and adapt it for watch categories."
"Understood."
Batu looked across the training ground again. The pairs continued moving through their routes with regularity.
He eventually said, "The watch has two goals. People who follow the rules need to feel that the city is ordered and that the watch is present. People who break the rules need to feel observed."
Kirsa remained silent for a moment as he worked through the implications.
He studied the drill one final time and said nothing more about doctrine. The discussion had reached its conclusion.
Batu had outlined the principles. Kirsa would build the organization from them. That was how he worked. He had once taken knowledge of the steppes and turned it into a force of riders. He would do the same here.
Batu left the training ground and walked back into the city.
The streets were quieter than they had been in autumn. Foot traffic had narrowed to people who needed to reach a destination and people who had no choice but to remain outside.
Fewer stalls operated in the market district. Merchants with enough resources to wait for warmer weather were already doing so. Wood smoke hung above the residential quarter in a flat layer that the still air couldn’t disperse.
Along the western side of the administrative district, ice had begun forming near the river. The frozen margins looked pale against the dark water still moving at the center.
Batu observed each detail as he walked, but he never hurried.
One more winter. That was the remaining constraint.
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