by Troy Denning
As the General of the Northern Marches had known all along, Shou Lung’s best chance of victory lay in attacking while the enemy’s attention was completely absorbed by something else. That was why Batu’s original plan had called for the nobles to sally out of Shou Kuan as his forces attacked from the rear. However, with the Mirror of Shao destroyed, coordinating the two maneuvers had become an impossibility. Fortunately, it appeared the enemy was about to oblige Batu by occupying itself with an attack on Shou Kuan.
Batu directed his attention to Pe. “Tell the armies to prepare for the attack.”
Pe smiled. “Then the war will be over soon.”
A knot of excitement formed in Batu’s stomach, and he answered, “One way or the other.” With a little luck, he thought he would finally fight his illustrious battle.
“The enemy still does not know we’re here,” Pe said, his face betraying his absolute confidence. “We cannot lose.”
“In battle, nothing is ever certain,” Kei Bot warned.
Pe looked at the stocky commander with barely concealed contempt. The adjutant made no secret of his dislike for Batu’s second in command. “Begging your pardon, General, but what you say is not true for this battle.”
Placing a fatherly hand on his adjutant’s shoulder, Batu said, “Pe, the only thing I am sure of today is that we shall fight a great battle.” He reached beneath his hauberk to withdraw the letter he had written before dawn for Wu. Though he had not been able to send his customary letter at Yenching, today there was no reason to break his vow.
Batu gave the paper to Pe. “You know what to do with this.”
“I’ll send it to Lady Wu.”
Kei Bot raised an eyebrow. “I had not thought you so sentimental, General.”
The General of the Northern Marches flushed. He had repeatedly directed his subordinates to think of nothing but fighting until they destroyed the barbarians. Batu felt as if he had been caught in a lie.
“I’m not,” he said sharply, looking from Kei Bot to Pe. “Send the order.”
Pe crawled down the hill to the escort, and Batu turned back to Shou Kuan. The wind still carried the smoke over the city wall. The general from Chukei studied the hazy tendril for several moments. The more he watched, the more it seemed something was moving across the gray ribbon.
Batu wished that Minister Kwan’s wu jen was with him, for the wizard would have found a way to show him more of the scene outside Shou Kuan. It was not the first time the general had wished for the wizard’s company. After arriving at last night’s campsite, Batu’s first thought had been to establish some magical means of spying upon the enemy. Unfortunately, none of the wu jens supplied by the Ministry of Magic knew an appropriate spell, and the feng-li lang would not ask the spirits to perform such a mundane task. So the general had been forced to rely upon physical scouting.
Batu watched the scene for another ten minutes. Finally, Kei Bot pointed at the dark band of horsemen encircling Shou Kuan. “The enemy is moving! Shall I send the order to advance?”
“Not yet,” Batu replied, laying a restraining hand on his subordinate’s wrist. Although it did look as though the barbarian circle was tightening, Batu did not think they were charging.
“What are you waiting for?” Kei Bot asked. “As it is, it will take our armies thirty minutes to reach the battle.”
“It won’t take the enemy thirty minutes to know we’re coming,” Batu countered, pointing toward the valley where the Shou armies waited. “When eighty thousand horses gallop toward the city, they’ll raise a dust cloud that will blot out the sun. If the Tuigan aren’t fully engaged, they’ll break off to meet us.”
Kei Bot frowned and stared at Batu. “Your wife’s father is in Shou Kuan. How can you allow the nobles to bear this attack alone?”
“I can do it because it increases our chances of winning the battle,” Batu returned coldly. He looked back toward the besieged city.
Kei Bot stared at his commander with thinly veiled disgust. “You are a callous and cold man.”
Without taking his eyes off the city, Batu calmly asked, “Could any other kind destroy the Tuigan?”
Kei Bot looked away, uncomfortable with both his own comment and Batu’s easy reply.
A moment later, the barbarian circle stopped shrinking. Batu estimated the horsewarriors were within medium bow range of the city walls. Though he could not see them, the general knew that droves of arrows were flying between Shou Kuan’s ramparts and the enemy lines.
“See?” Batu said, pointing at the circle. “The Tuigan would have seen us coming. It won’t be long now.”
The general could see that the Tuigan were pressing the battle hard. Volley after volley of Shou arrows opened holes in their ring, but instead of retreating to a safer range, the barbarians shifted to fill in the gaps. In front of the gate, the smoke still drifted over the city wall. It still seemed to Batu that something was moving along its spine, but he could not imagine what.
For several minutes, he and Kei Bot silently watched the battle. The longer they watched, the more convinced Batu grew that he had made the correct decision. The enemy maneuvered with such precision that he knew they would easily meet any obvious attack.
On the southern side of the city, the horsewarriors began to gather in a great mass. Within seconds, the throng was swarming toward the main gate.
“They’re assaulting!” Kei Bot declared, pointing at the mob. “They’ve taken the gate!”
“Yes,” Batu agreed, waving his adjutant up the hill. For the first time since the battle had begun, he was worried. The barbarians had breached Shou Kuan’s defenses much faster than he had expected.
When Pe arrived, the general from Chukei addressed the youth immediately. “Send the order to attack,” he said. “The Army of Wak’an is to secure the western perimeter and the Army of Hai Yuan the eastern, cutting off any avenue of enemy retreat. The Army of Kao Shan is to smash the throng at the gate, with the Army of Wang Kuo in close support.”
“Yes, General,” Pe said. He started back down the hill.
Batu grabbed his adjutant’s shoulder. “Deliver these orders yourself. Remind the generals that no one is to attack from horseback. They are to dismount and fight in formation. After all, we must remember that we aren’t true barbarians, mustn’t we?”
Pe smiled. “Yes, General.”
“Now, go,” Batu said, turning back to the city.
After watching the assault for a few moments, the general from Chukei realized that something was terribly wrong inside the city. The Tuigan throng in front of the gate was decreasing in size at a steady rate.
Batu’s heart sank. What he saw could only mean that the barbarians were pouring into the city with little opposition. When his provincial armies sprang their trap, the enemy would simply take refuge inside the walls of Shou Kuan.
Rising to his feet, Batu said, “Come, General!”
Kei Bot also rose, saying, “Why such a hurry now?”
“You were right,” Batu said, starting down the hill.
“Of course—”
“Now is not the time to offend me,” Batu said sharply, halting. “It would be a pity to execute you while you can still serve the emperor.”
The stocky general stopped in his tracks. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“I would,” Batu hissed. “At the moment, I have enough on my mind without your perfidy.”
Kei Bot clenched his jaw and stared at Batu angrily. When the younger man’s gaze did not falter, Kei Bot asked, “What do you want?”
Batu grasped his subordinate’s shoulder and guided him down the hill, formulating a new plan as he walked. “We can prevent the barbarians from seizing Shou Kuan if we move quickly. We’ll follow them straight into the city.”
Batu spoke rapidly, his excitement growing with each breath. Although the nobles’ collapse had caused him some serious problems, he was determined to overcome these troubles. After all, a battle could hardly be considered illus
trious if a commander did not make a desperate decision or two.
“Here’s my plan,” Batu said, still gripping his subordinate’s arm. “I’ll meet the Armies of Kao Shan and Wang Kuo to change their orders. We’ll mount a cavalry charge and follow the barbarians right into the city.”
“To attack inside Shou Kuan?” Kei Bot gasped.
“Exactly,” Batu confirmed. “The Tuigan are horsemen and nomads. City combat will be as foreign to them as fighting from horseback is to us. The odds should be even.”
Kei Bot stared at the General of the Northern Marches as if he were mad. “What do you wish me to do?”
“We’ll need all the strength we can gather inside the city,” Batu explained. “You must meet the other two armies. Send the Army of Wak’an to support the charge. They must also remain mounted and follow on my heels, or the assault will lack the momentum to take the city.”
Kei Bot nodded. “Wak’an is to follow you, and you will be with Wang Kuo.”
“Good,” Batu said. “You must take the last army and encircle the city at one hundred and twenty yards. Use your horses’ mobility to make sure that no stragglers escape our trap.”
“As you wish,” Kei Bot answered, unable to hide his skepticism.
They reached the bottom of the hill. Batu turned to face Kei Bot straight on. “One other thing,” he said. “If I fall, you will take command.”
At first, Kei Bot’s expression seemed puzzled, for Batu was merely stating standard military procedure. Slowly, however, he realized the full implication, of his commander’s words. “You expect to be in the thick of the fighting?” Kei Bot asked. There was an ambitious glimmer in his eye.
“I’ll be in the cavalry charge,” Batu answered, hardly able to suppress a grin. “Once inside the city, our armies will need me.” Though this logic seemed valid enough, the general from Chukei had a deeper reason for joining the charge. He simply did not want to miss the best part of the battle.
For a long moment, Kei Bot studied Batu with an unreadable expression. Finally, he asked, “Anything else?”
“Only this: whether I was right or wrong to hold the attack, our best chance of victory now lies in the streets of Shou Kuan. I hope you agree.”
“Whether I agree or not is unimportant,” Kei Bot said, turning away to mount his horse. “I have my orders.”
Batu mounted his own horse, wondering if the stocky general could be trusted. There was something in the man’s manner that made the general from Chukei uneasy, but there was no time to worry about it now. Batu spurred his horse, leading Kei Bot and the remaining escorts in a mad gallop toward his armies.
Batu and the others rode down into a dale. Even sitting astride his horse, the general from Chukei could feel the ground trembling. Behind the blackened ridge on the valley’s far side, an immense dust cloud eclipsed the horizon. Realizing that his army’s approach army was responsible for what he saw and felt, Batu reined his mount to a stop.
A line of riders nearly a mile long appeared atop the far ridge and started into the valley. Within seconds, the slope was covered with horsemen wearing filthy hauberks and fur-trimmed skullcaps. Most had scarves or shreds of cloth wrapped around their noses and mouths. Though the swarm was riding at only a canter, their mounts’ hooves churned up so much dirt that an impenetrable curtain of dust hid the largest part of the army.
The throng was roughly divided into four groups. One hundred men from each group held Tuigan standards that the Shou had substituted for their own banners.
Batu pointed at one of the standard-bearers. “There is Wak’an, General. Do not fail me.” He could barely make himself heard above the rumble of the approaching army.
Kei Bot galloped off without another word. Batu remained a moment longer, searching for the golden yak tail that now served as Wang Kuo’s banner. Finally, he found the standard he sought and spurred his horse forward.
As soon as Batu wheeled his horse into line, dust and ash coated his throat so thickly he could hardly swallow. Filthy as it was, he pulled the collar of his Tuigan tunic over his face. He found Wang Kuo’s lanky commander as the army started up the other side of the valley. Shouting to make himself heard, he explained the change in plans. A messenger was then sent to the Army of Kao Shan with the new orders.
Finally, the Shou armies crested the ridge. The twenty thousand pengs from Kao Shan were in the lead, followed by Batu and the Army of Wang Kuo. The general from Chukei could no longer see the armies of Wak’an and Hai Yuan, but he assumed they were close behind.
A quarter mile ahead, ten thousand mounted Tuigan sat in a double line at the base of the ridge. They had turned to face Batu’s army and held their bows in their laps. Beyond their lines rose a dusty knoll with fifty smoky fires burning on top of it. Several hundred men stood on the hill, still tending the fires. Past the hillock stood Shou Kuan’s bell tower. The main gates hung wide open, and the streets beyond were filled with thousands of soldiers.
A flat arc of smoke nearly twenty yards wide ran from the hilltop over the city walls. Though nothing moved on the smoke bridge now, several dead horses and men lay strewn along its length. Batu felt sick as he realized how easy it must have been for the barbarians to charge over the bridge and secure the main gate.
The general turned his attention back to the first obstacle between him and retaking the gate: the ten thousand barbarians at the base of the ridge. As the Shou army started down the slope, the Tuigan signal drummers beat a slow, steady cadence. The other horsewarriors remained impassive and motionless, not even lifting their bows. Finally, a scowling officer rode out and angrily waved his arms at the advancing army, ordering it to halt.
A wave of euphoria coursed through Batu’s veins. The Tuigan don’t know that they’re being attacked, he realized. Obviously, the barbarians were puzzled by the huge army’s sudden appearance behind them, but they clearly did not suspect that it was not their own.
Wang Kuo turned to Batu, grinning. “What are your orders, General?”
The question was rhetorical. Even as Batu yelled “Charge!” the men leading the assault drew their weapons and broke into a full gallop. Instead of the curved blades of Tuigan warriors, they held the straight chiens of Shou infantrymen. Upon seeing the double-edged swords, the enemy officer realized his mistake. He hurriedly returned to his own ranks. Once combat was closed, Batu knew, the difference in weapons would be the only means of telling friend from foe.
As the Army of Kao Shan roared its battle cry, a deafening clamor filled the general’s ears. Batu’s heart started to pound harder. His horse snorted with excitement, and the ground rushed past its hooves at a dizzying rate.
At the bottom of the slope, the Tuigan raised their bows and fired. The volley seemed to hang in the air like a black fog. The wall of arrows didn’t seem to fly at the attacking Shou; they seemed to ride into it. Thousands of men and beasts fell to the dusty ground, and the charge faltered for just an instant.
Then it continued faster than ever. Sweat rolled down Batu’s body in constant, tickling rivulets. At the bottom of the hill, he saw the Tuigan holster their bows and draw their sabers. Batu found his palm gripping his weapon’s hilt, and he did something he had not done in many, many battles: he drew his sword.
The Army of Kao Shan met the barbarians, and Batu felt a thunderous crash in the pit of his stomach. Ahead of him, thousands of Tuigan tumbled from their saddles as the heavy Shou chiens struck them down. An instant later, the Tuigan sabers flashed, cutting down a like number of Shou. Frightened cries and agonized screams filled the air. Batu’s horse galloped even faster, drawn onward, it seemed, by the scent of blood and death.
As he rode toward the mayhem ahead, Batu realized he had become an ordinary soldier. His escorts had disappeared into the mad mob, as had the commander of Wang Kuo. To the general’s left rode a rugged veteran with unkempt hair who would not have looked out of place holding a Tuigan saber. To Batu’s right rode a helmetless man with the silky topknot o
f a Shou officer.
Batu no longer saw the barbarian ranks, for he had reached the bottom of the slope and did not have a good view. Directly ahead, all he could see were the backs of his own men. Beyond them rose the knoll with the smoke bridge. Thousands of his pengs were already riding up the small hill. Hundreds sat slumped in their saddles, wounded or dead, carried along only by the momentum of the charge. On top of the hill, a lone Tuigan wearing the robes of shaman gestured madly at the smoke bridge. The priest’s escorts were fleeing in all directions.
Batu’s horse began swerving and leaping, compelling him to pay attention to his riding. He had reached the Tuigan ranks, though little remained of the enemy lines now. The ground was littered with dead and wounded, forcing the general’s mount to dodge wildly to keep from tripping.
As the general flashed through the area, a barbarian rose and fumbled at his arrow quiver. Batu swung his sword. The general was surprised at how good it felt to slay an enemy, for it had been many years since he had fought in the ranks. He did not get to see the Tuigan fall, however, for his mount had already carried him onward.
Batu’s horse started up the knoll, and its gait slowed. He took advantage of the curbed pace to peer over his shoulder, then cursed angrily. He had expected to see a third army behind the one with which he rode. Instead, Wak’an was moving toward the western perimeter and Hai Yuan toward the eastern. Clearly, Kei Bot had not informed the armies’ commanders of the revised plan.
Batu briefly wondered whether Kei Bot had deliberately disobeyed his orders or had simply not found the other two generals in time. Whatever the reason, the blunder meant that Wang Kuo and Kao Shan would be outnumbered once they entered the city. There was nothing Batu could do. Stopping the assault was out of the question, as was trying to break a messenger free of the charging mob.
