Yue came up beside Wen and pointed down at the men. “Ximen’s down there working beside his men, as usual.”
Wen followed Yue’s arm, but had a hard time making out one worker from another. It took him a few moments, but then he noticed Ximen, the engineer’s combed-back hair already showing reddish tints from the muddy water he was moving around in.
“I’ll send one of the worker’s down to get him,” Yue said, and began moving further along the embankment to where a cluster of workers were busy packing the earth down.
“No,” Wen said suddenly, stopping Yue in his tracks and turning him back to the marquis. “I’ll go down there myself.”
Before Yue could protest Wen was again hiking up his robes and moving toward the edge of the embankment.
“Sire, is that really necessary?” Zhai’s voice called out as Wen reached the edge of the embankment.
Yue turned to see the Minister of War climb the last few steps to the top of the embankment.
“I don’t think that you’ll be dissuading him this day,” Yue called back to him before turning to see Wen hop off the top of the embankment and begin the descent down into the watery trench.
Yue rushed to the edge and peered over. Wen was rushing down the embankment, his feet rising and falling quickly as he tried to slow his descent. The embankment was crumbling all around him as he rushed down, pebbles and clumps of dirt rolling down beside him, then larger stones and mounds of earth as he progressed further. After thirty feet he reached the section of the embankment that was being supported by the wooden beams and he had to do a few quick sidesteps to steer clear of them. A few moments later he was at the bottom, his feet splashing noisily into the water, where his movement stopped so suddenly that he pitched forward and, for a brief moment, Yue thought that he would fall face first into the watery muck. Instead he immediately dropped the robes he’d been clutching tightly all the way down and threw his arms out, which proved adequate enough for him to keep his balance.
Most of the workers that’d been busy hoisting beams had stopped their work when Wen began rushing down toward them, and they still stood by idly. Ximen too had had his attention pulled away from the task at hand, but now that the incident was over he sharply reprimanded his men.
“What? You’ve never seen a man descend the slopes before? I just did it myself a few minutes ago. Now get back to work!” he yelled at the men around him, who quickly began lifting their wooden beam once again.
Angrily Ximen trudged toward the man, more so at the interruption to the work, which was already dangerously close to not being completed in time, than at the presence of whomever this newcomer was who didn’t know about the fragility of the embankments this close to the river. His legs splashed loudly as he moved quickly to where the man still stood as if waiting for someone to come to him and give him directions. I’ll give him directions, alright, Ximen thought as he got closer, but then he slowed suddenly and almost came to a complete stop. He’d been expecting a common worker to come into view, not his marquis.
“Sire, whatever are you doing here?” Ximen said, his voice now full of wonder instead of anger.
“I wanted to view your work for myself, and close up,” Wen replied. “I see that everything’s gone well and that you’ve completed your task.”
Ximen stood stock-still for a moment, still not believing that Marquis Wen was standing before him knee-deep in the same muddy water that he’d been knee-deep in for the past several weeks. It took him a few moments to shake off his surprise and find his voice.
“There’s still some work to be done, as you can see,” Ximen said, motioning behind him at the men who were once again hoisting the beams into place.
Wen nodded and looked back at the slope he’d just come down. “Yes, I can tell from my descent just now that these embankments are rather fragile things the closer they get to the river.”
“You’re rather lucky, actually, Sire,” Ximen said as he took a few steps and covered the distance between himself and the Marquis. “We make sure that all of the workers descend several hundred feet down from here, where the earth is not so prone to slides. Just a few weeks ago we had to institute that rule when two workers were caught in a slide coming down not far from where you just did. Both were buried in the rubble and it took us several hours to dig them out and another few days after that to firm up the slope once again.”
“Well, if would’ve known that then I would have come down in another spot,” Wen said, a bit surprised that he’d been in such danger.
“Who are you with?” Ximen asked. “I’m surprised that no one warned you.”
“I just arrived at the battlements not an hour ago and then immediately came here,” Wen answered. “General Yue and I rode together from the city.”
“Yue knows the dangers,” Ximen said as he stared up the slope, although he saw no one.
Wen shook his head and waved his hand. “Let us not worry about what’s been done.” He put his hands on his hips and turned to look around him before turning back to Ximen.
“Tell me, Ximen, will everything go as planned tomorrow?”
Ximen turned to look back behind him, ran his hand over his hair, then put his own hands on his hips as he turned back to Wen.
“For the past few days we’ve just been firming up the slopes with support beams, as you can see here. Without them the embankments would erode under the water and tumble down. Now, when the river is unleashed tomorrow the weight of the water should hold them firm long enough. The question is, will the river flow all the way to the city, or will it somehow break through along the way and make a new course.”
“What do you think?” Wen asked.
Ximen shook his head. “I can’t be sure. There’s a good possibility that it’ll reach the city gates as we want, but there’s also a chance that the river will be diverted for a short time, rise up over the embankments, and then continue on westward along its usual course. Rivers are tricky creatures, living things, really. They follow their own whims and desires and can be difficult, if not impossible, to control.”
“Now I’m not sure if you’re talking about a river or a woman,” Wen said with a straight face.
Ximen turned back to him, confusion in his eyes, before he broke out in a wide smile, joined a moment later by a knowing smirk from Wen. Both men laughed for a few moments before Wen turned serious once again.
“Will they hold, Ximen?” Wen asked, his gaze level and firm and showing none of the mirth of just a moment ago.
Ximen’s expression sobered and he looked down at the water around his legs for a moment before meeting Wen’s eyes again.
“Let me show you the dam,” he said and held his arm up for Wen to move beside him.
The two began walking through the water and were soon past the workers. They walked in silence for several hundred feet before the embankments suddenly turned to the right at a sharp angle.
“We found out soon after starting work that it wouldn’t do to have the water rush down in a single straight line,” Ximen said to Wen’s wondering look. “The force of the water would simply have been too strong. That is why you see twists and turns, slight but noticeable, when you stand at the top and look back at the city. Each one of those turns is in fact a large amount of rocks and boulders packed together tightly with earth. They’re designed to channel the water correctly so that any excess energy isn’t wasted, or becomes too destructive to the route.”
Turning around the bend brought them right up to the dam that Ximen had mentioned. Both men stopped and Ximen stepped back a step and looked at Wen, himself always anxious to see the face of someone new to the sight.
Before them, where the twin embankments of the trench ended, was a massive wall of earth held firm by huge wooden support beams, each more than twice the size of those farther down the trench. They were firmly placed up against wooden planks laid all across the earthen mound, and between their cracks water could be seen seeping and spilling into the t
rench from the river beyond.
Wen stared up in silence at the earthen monstrosity, and he could hear the roar of the river that was concealed behind the unnatural earthen construction.
“Tonight we’ll secure ropes to those beams and attach them to large boulders atop the embankments,” Ximen said. “When the word is given tomorrow, the boulders will be rolled down the opposite sides and the force will wrench the beams from their positions, breaking the dam and unleashing the full force of the river down through the trench and onto the city below.”
It will be quite a forceful way to bring in the anniversary of your becoming marquis,” Ximen added with a smile.
Wen just stood and stared up at the wood and earthen dam for a few more moments in silence before turning to Ximen, a large smile on his face.
“You’ve exceeded my expectations,” Wen said. “I wasn’t sure that you could do it in the time allotted.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Ximen said with a bow. “You are too kind.”
“You will be rewarded handsomely for this after the city is defeated tomorrow,” Wen said. “You have succeeded with your mind where many thousands could not have succeeded with their swords.”
“The only reward that I seek is to once again be allowed to return to the construction of the Zhang River Canal,” Ximen said as he rose.
“You shall be allowed to return and work out your days there,” Wen replied.
Their attention was jerked away from each other by the sound of someone approaching from around the bend, the splashing of their feet audible over even the roar of the river.
“Don’t tell me that enemy archers worry you even here, my son,” Wen said before he’d even fully turned around to face the person approaching.
“Enemy archers not so much, but a sudden break in the dam does concern me,” Wu replied, his robes wet and muddied to such an extent that it was obvious he’d taken a fall somewhere between coming down the slope and reaching his father.
“Will the damn break suddenly, Ximen?” Wen asked, turning to face the engineer once again, a mischievous look on his face.
“No, Sire, it will not,” Ximen replied casually.
“Well, there you have it Wu, worrying for nothing yet again you are.”
Wu reached them and the angry splashing of his feet ceased. He combed back a long strand of wet hair that’d been plastered to his face and let out a deep sigh.
“Father, let us get you back to the outskirts of the city where a tent’s being erected as we speak. You would put my worrying mind to rest if you’d grant me this one wish today.”
Wen looked his son up and down for a moment before nodding his head. “Very well, I’ll do as you wish, but mind you, not for any fear of my own safety, only to appease your growing anxiety.”
“Thank you, father,” Wen said with obvious relief. “Zhai and General Yue are waiting for us atop the slope.”
“My Minister of War didn’t feel the need for a bath after the long journey?” Wen chided his son.
Wu merely shook his head and looked down at his feet. “Standing in this water cannot be good for your health, father.”
Wen let the smile fade from his face before he turned back to Ximen. “I’ll be back early in the morning to see the dam breached.”
“All will be ready and waiting for you,” Ximen replied with a bow, his robes brushing the surface of the water.
Wen turned back to his son. “Well, aren’t you going to lead me back to the tent?” he asked, feigning helplessness.
Ximen watched as the Marquis of Wei and the heir to that title sloshed through the water and away from him. There was such a discernable difference in the temperaments and personalities of father and son, and Ximen wondered how Wei would fare when Wen finally died and his son became marquis. It was something he’d found himself thinking on more and more frequently over the past few years, especially since he’d been granted permission to begin his canal project. Ximen had no worries about the project while Wen ruled, but how that project would fare under the son, well, that was something he could not be sure of, he thought as he turned and stared up at the leaking dam once again. He stood standing for a few minutes pondering that thought before shaking his head.
“Here I am standing around idly and staring at nothing,” he chuckled to himself. “You’re becoming even worse than your workers, Ximen.”
He gave a short barking laugh before walking back the way he’d come with Wen, eager to join his workers in putting the last beams into place and finally put this project behind him.
THREE
The rat paused to sniff at the ball of rice. The decision proved fatal; a moment later a crossbow bolt impaled the creature, killing it instantly.
“Ha!” Hui shouted in delight. He lowered the crossbow and turned to the soldier next to him, a large grin on his face. “You owe me three bu’s!” he declared, referring to the spade-shaped coins used by the majority of the Seven States.
“A lucky shot if I’ve ever seen one,” the soldier said dejectedly as he reached into his robes and pulled out the three coins and placed them into Hui’s outstretched hand.
“I call it skill,” Hui said before he bit down on each of the bronze coins then put them into his own robes, satisfied they were authentic.
The soldier shook his head but said nothing.
Hui’s long black hair was tied in a queue down his back. He had a long, straight black beard down to his chest, his mustache trailing down into it as was fashionable. His red and black robes were tight-fitting, suited for the demands of the barricades he oversaw day-in and day-out. He stared at the soldier for a few moments.
“Care to double the odds?” he asked at last.
“You’ve already taken all my wages for this month and the next!” the soldier cried out in anguish.
“And now I’m giving you the chance to win them back,” Hui replied with a smile.
“Oh, no,” the soldier said, “I know you, Hui, and the only chance you’re giving me is to lose another two month’s pay.”
“Well, have it your way.”
Hui turned to leave, ready to get back to his own tent in an area of the camp that wasn’t so dusty and close to the barricades. For nearly two years he’d been stationed outside of the Zhongshan capital, at first fighting alongside common soldiers of Wei against their enemy, but then more often than not simply living with them and waiting. The siege which had begun so hopefully had quickly ended in stalemate as both sides hunkered down for a long wait. After two years, however, there were signs that it was over: the embankments which had been under construction for the previous six months were finally near completion. It’d been just a few days before, in fact, that word had been sent back to Anyi for the marquis to come to Zhongshan to see the fall of the city for himself.
Hui was walking back through the camp when a soldier rushed up to him.
“Sir, where have you been?” the man panted, nearly out of breath from wherever it was he’d run from.
“Wiling away the time. Where should I have been?” Hui asked with irritation at such a silly question.
“Marquis Wen has arrived from Anyi!” the soldier gasped, his hands on his knees as he bent forward to try and catch his breath.
“My grandfather is here already?” Hui asked, surprised at the news. He hadn’t expected the old man to make the journey so quickly.
“And your father with him,” the soldier added. “Both were at the edge of the barricades near the road before they went off to see the diversion project up close for themselves.”
Hui turned away from the man and stared at the city in the distance, the large stone walls still looming high and impenetrable.
“So that means the siege will be over soon,” he said.
“That it does,” the man replied more quickly, his breath returning. “The word is that the dam will be breached tomorrow morning to coincide with the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Marquis’s reign.”
Hui scoffed at the
man’s words. “My grandfather has been ruling Wei much longer than twenty-five years!” Closer to fifty, in fact, Hui thought as he continued to stare at the city and remembered his own father telling him about his mighty grandfather and how, twenty years into his reign and fed up with how Duke You of Jin was ruling, he’d proclaimed himself Marquis, causing the other state rulers to do the same in short order. Even though that had been twenty-five years ago tomorrow, Hui pondered, there had still been no formal recognition of that long-ago proclamation by King Weilie of Zhou.
Hui came out of his brief reverie and turned back to the soldier that was still catching his breath.
“Surely the Marquis didn’t come all this way from Anyi unaccompanied,” Hui said.
“Oh, no, sir,” the man said quickly. “He brought more than a hundred chariots with him.”
Hui nodded. “I thought so. My father can never do anything small-scale.”
The soldier stared at him, unsure of what to say, before Hui came up and clapped him on the shoulder, a smile on his face.
“Well, let’s not stand here all day. Show me the way to the royal tent, which I’m positive is being put up as we speak.”
The soldier smiled and nodded eagerly, and both men began making their way toward the rear of the camp.
* * * * *
Liu Kui thumbed through the pages of the scroll, scanning more than reading, as his assistant brought in another sack. His hair, still a dark black after all these years, was tied in a large round topknot. His mustache flowed into his pointed beard, itself showing signs of grey, which he constantly stroked as he stared down at the crinkling parchment. His face was rather gaunt and his cheekbones highly pronounced; casualties both of too many nights spent in the library and away from the kitchens. His deep set eyes, however, sparkled in the candlelight of the tent and appeared to contain all the world’s knowledge behind their aged-appearance.
The Warring States, Books 1-3 Page 3
