Cregitzig's encampment was reported to be in the Yiesia hills and not far from territory ruled from Sorrin, but as Sigmar drew closer, conditions worsened, and life in his army became a nightmare.
Because of his status as a foreign potentate, Chaldez was comparatively comfortable, but the appalling conditions being suffered by the ordinary soldiers dragged down his spirits. He resolved to plead with Sigmar to call a halt, but before he could speak to him, the Sairish commander abruptly announced that he would not be seeking a major battle with the barbarians that winter. He told his generals that a small assault force, commanded by Regdag, would attack their encampment instead, and that he would wait until the spring before making his next move. A treaty was made with the ruler of a Soan town which lay on their route, and outside its walls Sigmar established his camp.
As usual he chose a commanding site, and energetically went about the clearing of trees and construction of dykes and ditches for its defence. Morale in the army immediately recovered, but Chaldez remained depressed. He was in no mood to socialise, and felt trapped. He told Sigmar that he wished to take part in the attack on Cregitzig, and to his astonishment, Sigmar flew into a rage. He reminded him of what he had said, not long before, about not caring for irregular warfare. "I want you here," he snapped, and during the ensuing argument made a remark that Chaldez thought, in retrospect, to be extraordinary. "I know Regdag. I can rely on him. He knows how to look after himself; he'll return, but there are others who won't."
Was it possible, Chaldez wondered, that Sigmar was concerned for his safety? He found it a disquieting thought.
Regdag did indeed return, and in triumphant mood reported to Sigmar's headquaters.
"We delivered a mighty blow!" he boasted. His early-morning attack had caught the barbarians completely by surprise; stores were destroyed, tents burned and enemy soldiers slain before they knew what was happening.
"And our casualties?" Sigmar inquired. Regdag was dismissive. "Some losses," he said.
Sigmar's tone remained affable. "You left with 200 men," he said. "I think you returned with rather less than half, did you not?"
"They died heroes," Regdag declared. "I am proud of every one of them."
Sigmar directed at Chaldez a sharp, meaningful look. Chaldez understood it perfectly, and reflected, with wry amusement, that his life had, perhaps, been preserved by the very man who most needed to end it.
* * * *

Sigmar's patience was shorter than the winter, which had barely begun to loosen its frozen grip on the Soan countryside when he sent out scouts to reconnoitre ahead, and began preparations to resume his march.
The scouts reported that Cregitzig had not moved his camp from its winter site, and Sigmar remarked that the barbarian commander must be aware of his own army's proximity. Chaldez knew that the coming battle was not far off. He felt very tense; more tense than he remembered feeling when other battles had been in prospect, and he supposed the reason was that this was an enemy whose commander he had fought with, whose tactics he had observed and admired, and whom he had believed to be invincible. He wanted badly to become involved in the preparations; he wanted to see the enemy, and he therefore volunteered to take Tsem, Zikir, Rassi and Nopin to go ahead and spy on his dispositions.

Sigmar made no attempt to hide his suspicions. "Why you?" he demanded. "Would you join the barbarians to destroy Sigmar?"
Chaldez was outraged. "If I had wanted to join the barbarians," he said coldly, "do you think I would have led the Imperial Horse half way across the world to fight them; do you think I would have tracked you all the way from the Ix valley; do you think I would have endured this last winter at your side? You forget, perhaps, that for five years I campaigned against the great Taksibar? I have as great a knowledge of warfare as any man in this army of yours; that is why I am the man to discern the strengths and weaknesses of his position."
Sigmar looked at him, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I will send Vanchis with you," he said. "I trust him."
Chaldez resisted the provocation, but gave what he intended to be an ironic bow. "As you wish," he said.
He and his group left that night, following a river valley through hilly, sparsely-wooded country. They slept during the day, and on the second night, guided by Nopin who was constantly scouting ahead, they drew close to Cregitzig's encampment.
Never had Chaldez so enjoyed danger. He was tense and alert, and strangely excited; it was as though the mere act of looking at Cregitzig's army would weaken the dread in which it held him. He would have taken risks to do so had Vanchis not demanded caution.
During the formal greetings, Sigmar was unctuous; he referred to Babra as a fearless warrior, and Babra wallowed in the flattery. Sigmar was suddenly very earnest, very serious. He said that the barbarians expected him to advance along the river valley, but that he had decided to attack them from a different direction. Babra nodded his approval. Sigmar said that the element of surprise was crucial; Babra agreed. The route which the barbarians were expecting him to take, Sigmar went on, was guarded by an out-post, and in order to create a diversion he intended to attack it.
Babra was enormously impressed by the deviousness of his plan.
Sigmar was modest. It might work, he admitted, but its success would depend upon the diversionary attack and the determination with which it was pressed, for it would have to be convincing.
"I need a bold commander to perform this task, but what am I to do? I cannot leave my army to do this, but who else is capable of it?"
Chaldez listened with fascinated horror as he went on to say that for a commander of Babra's acknowledged skills it would be no more than a routine exercise. "I invited you to advise me," he said, "because experience has taught me to respect your opinion. What should I do?"
Babra vacillated. He knew well enough that Sigmar was hoping he would volunteer, and part of him wanted to; but there was a cautious side to Babra. "What size is this out-post?" he asked.
"Two hundred men at the most," Sigmar said. "But Zakarrah informs me that they are occupying a very strong position." He turned to Chaldez. "You judged their position to be a strong one - am I right?"
Chaldez had to nod in agreement.
Sigmar went on "It will take 500 to show them we mean business."
Babra became alert. "Five hundred? With cavalry?"
"Cavalry is essential," Sigmar assured him.
Babra smiled. "The commander you require is standing before you!"

Chaldez excused himself and left. Sigmar was unwittingly sending Babra to his death, and he was afraid that if he stayed he might try to stop him.
He wanted Babra dead.
He knew now that killing Sigmar was out of the question; he had known it for some time, probably since falling in love with Tamasi, but only since her death had he been able to acknowledge it. Their arguments, their differences were of no account; the fact that Sigmar may have connived at the murder of his mother and father - Chaldez no longer believed that he bore sole responsibility for that crime - no longer mattered to him. He had had to recognise that there was something indefinable in their relationship which made killing him impossible. And that being the case, he knew he would never be king of Sair, a realisation which brought with it an extraordinary sense of relief: it was as though his destiny had, for all his life, been squatting on his back like some foul demon, prodding him, beating him, pestering him, driving him onward, and all the time growing heavier and more burdensome. Getting rid of it had freed his mind to think about Kroya; that was the kingdom he wanted for his own. Not Sair. Budenrath, the ancient capital, and Raggan, which he had looked down upon from an overlooking hill, had made powerful impressions on his mind. He had been absolutely serious when he had remarked to Dan that he could forget Sigmar if only he were king of such a realm. Secretly he had thought of Kroya being his; so secretly that not until recently had he been able to admit it. But having done so, he had had to wrestle with the problem of Babra, his rival to the Kroyan throne if and when the Theigans were thrown out.
Yes, he did want Babra dead.