As far as she could see, if any of the enemy had died, it was by accident.

I am Varus, she thought. I have led my troops, as Varus led the Roman Legions, into a trap, where we will all die. Die without even damaging the enemy.

What was I thinking? This terrain was made for ambush. Why didn’t I see that? Why was I so sure the enemy couldn’t attack us here? Whatever you’re sure the enemy can’t do, but which would destroy you if they did it anyway, you must plan to counter. This was elementary.

No one from Ender’s Jeesh would have made such a mistake.

Alai knew. He had warned her from the start. Her troops weren’t ready for such a campaign. It would be a slaughter. And here they were now, dying all around her, the whole highway thick with corpses. Her men had been reduced to piling up the dead as makeshift bulwarks against enemy fire. There was no point in her issuing commands, because they would not be understood or obeyed.

And yet her men fought on.

Her cellphone rang.

She knew at once that it was the enemy, calling her to ask her to surrender. But how could they know her cellphone number?

Was it possible that Alai was with them?

“Virlomi.”

Not Alai. But she knew the voice.

“This is Suri.”

Suriyawong. Were these FPE troops? Or Thai? How could Thai troops get across Burma and all the way up here?

Not Chinese troops at all. Why was it suddenly so clear now? Why hadn’t it been clear before, when Alai was warning her? In their private talks, Alamandar said it would all work because the Russians would have the Chinese army fully involved in the north. Whichever attack Han Tzu defended against, the other side would be able to rampage through China. Or if he tried to fight both, then each would destroy that part of his army in turn.

What neither of them had realized was that Han Tzu was just as capable of finding allies as they were.

Suriyawong, whose love she had spurned. It felt like so many years ago. When they were children. Was this his vengeance, because she had married Alai instead of him?

“Can you hear me, Vir?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I would rather capture these men,” he said. “I don’t want to spend the rest of the day killing them all.”

“Then stop.”

“They won’t surrender while you’re still fighting. They worship you. They’re dying for you. Tell them to surrender, and let the survivors go home to their families when the war is over.”

“Tell Indians to surrender to Siamese?”

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Once she had cared first for the lives of her men. Now, suddenly, she found herself speaking out of injured pride.

“Vir,” said Suri. “They’re dying for nothing. Save their lives.”

She broke the connection. She looked at the men around her, the ones that were alive, crouching behind piles of their comrades’ bodies, searching for some kind of target out in the trees, up the slopes…and seeing nothing.