by G R Matthews
Haung watched the arrow rise into the sky and followed its path. At the top of its arc, the fletching just visible against the clouds, it paused and then fell like a swooping hawk. He could almost feel its impact with the earth, ten paces in front of the horses trotting towards the wall.
“A few more, if you please, Master Yu,” Haung said. Small and tiny though the old man was, there was no denying his skill as three more arrows left the bow in quick succession. Every one rose to the sky, paused and then dived at the ground.
The three Mongols stopped. In the middle, the warrior rose once more in his saddle and shook his spear at the wall. Haung could see that the man was shouting, but the sound was drowned out by distance and the jeers from the Empire army.
“Thank you, Master Yu. Very impressive,” Haung said.
“Do you want me to kill one of them?” Yu said.
“Not right now, I think, but thank you for the offer,” Haung said, focusing upon the three Mongol warriors as they raised their spears to the sky, reversed them and plunged them into the earth, their tassels twisting in the breeze. The rest of the front rank of enemy soldiers galloped forward and mirrored their leaders actions until a wall of spears sprouted from the ground covering the area from the bridge to the river, following the arc of the wall.
“Clever,” Gongliang said.
“I wasn’t sure, but last time they planted their spears at the edge of our bow range. This time, thanks to Master Yu, we have given them the firm idea that our reach is much further than they thought.”
“And it protects the pits, for a little longer,” Gongliang said.
“There is that,” Haung smiled. “Has anyone seen Enlai today?”
Chapter 11
By the end of two days alone, Zhou was beginning to think that the whole Mongol army had left him here. The noises outside had grown louder immediately following the fall of the Wall. It had been almost impossible to sleep. Crashing and booming sounds swept through the camp almost non-stop. Yángwū had explained that the Empire soldiers had fled the Wall and now they were clearing the gate of all the debris left behind. The strange, random attacks, from the ground had ceased and the Mongols were working non-stop.
Then there was the unmistakeable noise of an army clearing its camp. Women’s voices could be heard for the first time, higher pitched, softer and still beyond his understanding. It was, he supposed, more a travelling city than an army. The noise of the horses hooves continued all day as the army pulled out. Finally, quiet returned.
Not absolute silence. There were still people out there, still Mongols talking and going about their daily business, but the sounds he associated with the army had gone. He had tried to access the spirit, but still something blocked his path and kept him from it. With nothing to do Zhou had meditated, slept and spent what energy he could in maintaining the barriers in his mind, those designed to keep memories at bay and those that sought to thwart Yángwū’s invasions. He was getting hungry and thirsty.
On the third morning, as far as Zhou could reckon it, the door to his yurt opened and in walked Yángwū with a platter of food and drink.
“My apologies,” Yángwū said. “A lot to do, instructions to give, things to organise. However, it is all sorted.”
“The army has gone,” Zhou stated.
“A lot of it, yes.” The former-Wu and current immortal, if he was to be believed, placed the platter down on the floor. “Please, eat and drink. You must be quite hungry.”
Zhou gazed at the steaming slices of meat and the bowl of rice. His stomach rumbled.
“It is not poisoned, I promise you that. There has been plenty of time for that since you became my guest.”
“Prisoner,” Zhou said.
“Guest, prisoner, captive, visitor, choose the one that you feel suits you best, but eat, Zhou, eat.” Yángwū sat cross-legged on the floor and began picking at the meat.
There was no denying the hunger Zhou felt and so, after a moment of indecision, he sat opposite Yángwū. Taking a bowl, he lifted a slice of meat onto the rice and let the juices flow down between the grains. He sniffed it, which brought a flood of moisture to his mouth, and drew another rumble from his stomach. The first bite was as delicious as only the first mouthful of food can be when you are famished.
“It is good?” Yángwū said.
Zhou nodded and continued to chew, swallow and stuff more food into his mouth. When the pangs of hunger had abated, he slowed down to a more respectable speed of eating. He sipped water from the wooden cup and let the food settle in his stomach.
“We have a problem, Zhou,” Yángwū said when they had finished eating.
“I am very upset to hear of your problems,” Zhou said.
“Indeed.” Yángwū paused to fish out a slender thread of meat from between his teeth with his fingernails. “Well, this problem involves you.”
“Me?” Zhou waved a hand at the walls of his tent. “I pose no problem. You have me trapped in this prison and are preventing me from accessing the Spirit. There is nothing I can do.”
“True, but only for the moment. You are a puzzle, Zhou. There are some things about you I would like to understand and yet I must move on if I am to reach the mountain in time.” Yángwū paused for a sip of his own water. “The simple answer would be to kill you, remove you as a threat, but the puzzle nags at me.”
“You don’t expect my help.” The threat of death had hung over his head since the day of his capture and yet he was still alive. He intended to remain that way and, he knew, help was on the way.
“Zhou, I told you that I would treat you with honesty and that is what I am doing. I have not yet reached a decision. However, if you cannot assist me in answering the questions I have, if you cannot help me find out the information I need, then sadly I will have no need of you.”
“You could let me go,” Zhou said.
“I would certainly miss your little jokes and humour if you were to die, but let you go? I cannot see that as a viable alternative. You have information that I need. If you didn’t, I would have killed you by now. Something happened on the Wall, Zhou. The spell I used should have killed you.”
“But it did not,” Zhou said.
“It did not and that is a puzzle. Sadly, the Fang-Shi who had loaned me his body had senses much less refined than my own. I am not a fan of unanswered puzzles, Zhou. I told you I was a doctor, a scholar. I lived for learning in those early days of becoming a Wu. The mountain offered me everything I could want. A small library, a place to start finding the answers to all the questions I had and, beyond that, the chance to do my own research. I travelled a lot in the first forty or fifty years. Other countries, other cultures, new languages and new magics. It was an exciting time and learned all that I could from everyone I met. There was no question that, given time, I could not find the answer to. In the next hundred years, I added so much magical and scientific knowledge to the library and to other places of learning around the world.”
To Zhou’s ears, the man sat opposite sounded genuinely confused. “I am not sure what I can do to help you, if I wanted to.”
“I know, Zhou. I look at you and see me many lifetimes ago. You are young, barely weaned, and you have been thrust into the world of the Wu. A long life is yours to discover many things and find your own answers. I envy you that. To have so many questions that you do not yet know the answer to. Many of mine have been asked and answered. The others will all find their answers when I become the Jade Emperor, when I can converse, as an equal, with the universe itself.”
“And what then?”
“Then?”
“When you have all your answers,” Zhou said.
“Oh, Zhou, still so young. If this single world has enough questions to keep me occupied for thousands of years, what will the whole of creation have? New worlds to visit, with new rules to learn. There will always be questions. The universe does not know everything. If it did, it would never have created beings capable of fighting agains
t it. It is an imperfect universe, it is always creating new questions,” Yángwū said and Zhou could see the passion, a glow of excitement, in the man’s eyes. “We will talk again, tomorrow, but now I must think. I must decide your fate.”
The small man picked up the platter of food, nodded to Zhou and left the tent. The wooden door closed behind him and the locks clicked from the other side.
When Zhou was sure that Yángwū was not going to return, he raised his hands before his face. They stayed steady, no nerves, no excitement and no feeling of weakness. Why then were Yángwū’s trembling as he had picked up the food?
Chapter 12
The morning had, thankfully, broken with the land covered in a thick mist that rose off the river into the chill air.
“It won’t last,” Liu said as he bit into the steamed dumpling in his hands.
“I know, but every moment is another moment closer to the Emperor’s army arriving. Do you have any more of those dumplings?” Haung said.
“Missed breakfast?” Gang said. “That’s never a good idea.”
“Couldn’t eat,” Haung said.
“Here,” a voice said from behind and a dumpling arced towards him. Haung reacted subconsciously and plucked the dumpling from the air.
“Where have you been?” Haung asked.
“Around, here and there,” Enlai said as he finished his approach. “Mostly looking for someone who proved harder to find than I had thought.”
“Who?” Haung said.
“Did you get the powder?” Enlai ignored the question and looked towards Gongliang.
“Yes, we did and we have a plan for it,” Haung answered before Gongliang could speak. “Now, who were you looking for?”
“Him.” Enlai pointed at a skinny, timid man who had followed him.
“Who is he?”
“A Fang-shi,” Enlai said.
“Really?” Haung stepped forward and up to the supposed Fang-shi. “Who are you?”
“Me?” The man’s eyes darted around, looking everywhere but at Haung.
“Yes, are you a trained Fang-shi?”
“Well, now... that is a good question. Indeed it is a good question. Yes, a good question,” the man said.
Haung turned a puzzled look on Enlai.
“He is trained,” the Taiji said. “If you bothered to use your own training you’d know that.”
Haung bit down on the reply. Ever since they had started to move south to meet up with the Emperor’s army, his fellow Taiji had developed a shorter temper and spent more time away from the command staff and Haung in particular.
“He was a research magician but it got away from him one day. Slightly destroyed his mind. Gan Ji was one of the most promising students, but the... accident... put an end to that. If we can get him to focus then, I am told, he is quite useful,” Enlai said. “If you don’t want him though, I’ll put him back where I found him.”
“No, Enlai, I am grateful that you...” Haung tailed off as the Taiji nodded, turned and walked away leaving the confused Fang-shi stood on his own.
“What has got into him?” Gongliang said.
“Just missing his woman, I bet,” Gang said.
“His woman?”
“Xióngmāo,” the large warrior explained.
Haung listened to the exchange for a moment and shook his head, certain that was not the relationship the two had, but not at all certain that it was not the relationship Enlai wanted. Too much to worry about and too little time to do so. Right now, at this moment, the priority was the defence of the city.
“Now then, Master Gan Ji, can you tell us what you can do to help?” Haung said to the Fang-shi.
“Do? What can I do?” Gan Ji looked out over the fields and rivers. “I can swim.”
“What magic can you do to help us defend the town?” Haung persevered. Enlai, for all his bad temper at the moment, had been a trusted companion and warrior on the Wall, he had brought the Fang-shi here with a purpose.
“Gan Ji,” Haung tried again, “there is an army out there, in the mist, ready to attack this town and kill us all. You are a Fang-shi, there must be something you can do to help us?”
“General,” the shout of alarm raced along the wall. “They are coming.”
Sure enough, when Haung peered over the battlements, the mist had lifted enough for the Mongols to be confident of the ground in front of them. They had spurred their horses into a gallop. A ragged line of warriors broke from the front ranks and charged the city walls.
“Archers, hold. Do not attack,” Gongliang shouted in response.
This first wave was, Haung and the army had learned during the attack on the Wall, made of the untried, unbloodied warriors. The children and young men who were seeking to prove their worth, to get a name of bravery and have the chance to marry. Killing them served no purpose, letting them charge did and Haung turned away, pulling the Fang-shi down and out of the sight.
“They are almost at first line of pits, General,” Gongliang reported.
The thunder of hooves was a heartbeat rhythm of fear and panic. The hooves hitting the ground in discordant series of thumps. Even through the thick stone wall, the vibrations could be felt. Haung could hear the cheers of the Mongol warriors who remained in the lines. They had all done similar, charged an enemy, loosed an arrow or two, completed their first attack and returned to the lines a Mongol warrior of proven bravery.
That would not happen today and though Haung understood the need, he could not put aside the deaths of children easily. Not anymore.
The rhythm changed and faltered. The horses no longer ran, their legs no longer stretched out and their muscles no longer pushed them forward, faster and faster. Now came the sounds of falling, crashing, the snapping of bone, the scream of horse and rider alike as, below their feet, pits opened up, tripping and trapping the legs of the beasts.
“They are all down, General. Shall I order the marksman to finish them off?” Gongliang asked.
Haung shook his head. “No, let them go back to their lines. We’ve let them know the ground is uneven and dangerous. Now we will see if they are so happy to charge their horses right across it to get to the wall. My guess is they won’t be. From everything we know, they value their horses.”
“Horses,” Gan Ji said.
“Yes, horses,” Haung answered. “Gang, see if you can get any sense out this magician.”
The heavy warrior stomped over and pulled the thin Fang-shi upright by the simple expedience of grabbing his clothes and lifting. “Let’s you and I have a little chat.”
For the next few minutes, Haung watched the Mongol lines. It was evident that some discussion was taking place amongst them. The ranks of warriors at the rear began to dismount and Haung smiled. It would have been better if they had not given up on their horses so quickly. A few more ranks hitting the pits would have been a good lesson for them to learn and bought us more time, he mused.
# # #
Across the river the rest of the Mongol army had spent the morning and early afternoon setting up camp. Small tents, similar to those Haung had seen whilst on patrol in the village beyond the Wall, were being erected and small fires begun. Smoke, the same dark grey of the clouds above, rose into the air. Clearly, they expected to be here for a period of time and the thought was both welcome and worrying.
Gongliang pointed and Haung returned his gaze to the Mongol army before the walls.
“Not many ladders,” the engineer noted, “though it won’t take them long to make some more.”
Haung looked at the wooded slopes that led northwards, back the way they had come. “A day or two of hard work and they’ll have more wood and ladders than they need. However, we have given them something to think about. How long till night?”
“About three hours,” Gongliang answered.
“Then I doubt they will try another attack today. There is not enough time and they will be worried about more pits,” Haung said.
“We’ll keep the m
en on the walls for a time, let them get a proper look at the Mongols. They’ll send men out on the field tonight, under the cover of darkness, to look for the pits. It is looking to be a cloud covered night. It will be hard for us to see them.”
“There is not a lot we can do about the weather,” Haung said, resting his hands on the city’s stone work. “What about your other idea?”
“The men should be finished by tonight. I have some others on the lookout for the sign. What do you want to do about it?” Gongliang said.
“First thing in the morning. From what you have said it will not stop them straight away and the longer we give it the better. What about the men themselves?”
“They were all volunteers. Once it is done they have orders to make their own way back to the capital.”
“A long journey,” Haung said.
“They know the risks and compared to us, stuck in a city under attack, I think I would rather be them,” Gongliang replied.
“Haung,” Gang called, shaking his head as he approached, the Fang-shi following him like puppy. “I am not sure this idiot could do magic even if we shoved a wand up his...”
“He is a Fang-shi,” Haung interrupted. “Enlai would not have brought him to us without a purpose. What has he told you?”
“All I can get out of him is something about books and a library. His, I think. Once you get off the topic of books, he loses all interest and focus.” Gang hefted his hammer onto his shoulder. “I can’t get any more.”
“Well,” Haung began, the thought of petty revenge for all the prodigious snoring and unique collection of bodily noises he had put up with whilst sharing the barracks with Gang formed in his mind, “He can bunk with you tonight. Look after him and see if you can find out any more.”
“Haung, that’s not fair. Why not let Liu have a go?”
“I would, but he seems to like you.” Haung nodded towards the Fang-shi who was, at that moment, smiling innocently at Gang.
# # #
“This is a bad idea,” Gongliang said.
