The "ilgeemj" was not goods. It was a test. Every autumn, the Khan's court sent a mock consignment — a sealed strongbox containing a false map, a coded message, or a strategic lie. The Shuudan had to intercept it, assess its authenticity, and decide: real threat or decoy? If they failed, a whole tumen (unit of 10,000) might be sent chasing a ghost.
"Wax is soft. No thread. And the camel saddles are Uzbek style — not ours. It's a decoy to draw us west. The real ilgeemj is probably already moving north through the black marsh." mongol shuudan ilgeemj shalgah
From above, Batzorig watched the hands. The caravan master's right hand never left his belt. That was where a small knife would be — or a signal horn. The "ilgeemj" was not goods
Batzorig lowered the spyglass. "Baasan, ride ahead. Fall off your horse. Play injured. Get close enough to smell the wax." The Shuudan had to intercept it, assess its