Min was the first one up the bank and he didn’t even look at Wu as he walked around the chariot and to Dao’s body. He pulled the robes away and stared down for several moments without saying a word. The other soldiers walked up behind him and after a minute Min pulled the robes back up over Dao’s head.
“How did it happen?” Min said, turning at last to face Wu, his face tired and weary from the battle, and now full of sorrow over his dead ruler.
“The Duke had the reins and led the charge himself,” Wu began. “He slammed right into the line of chariots guarding Yi. I was thrown from the car and lost consciousness, and when I came to Dao was nowhere in sight. I staggered about, eventually coming upon him and Yi. Dao was standing over the wounded king, when an arrow took him in the back. I killed the archer, but the damage was done: King Yi finished Dao.”
“And you let him get away?” Min’s eyes bore into him accusingly.
“Perhaps a dozen of the men still standing went after him, the rest after we got the Duke’s body loaded into a chariot.”
“I see,” Min said slowly as he turned to look back across the river. He folded his arms in front of him and remained quiet for several moments as he thought. “It won’t do to bring back the Duke of Chu in a Yue chariot,” he said at last, turning to face Wu once again. “We’ll carry him across the river and you can load him into my own car.”
Min walked to Dao’s body and began pulling it from the chariot, several of the soldiers coming up to help. Within moments they had the body hoisted up over their heads and were heading into the waist-deep water. Wu followed behind them in silence. When they reached the opposite bank they placed the body in the chariot and Min turned to Wu.
“I’ll provide you with an escort of chariots to see you to Ying. I cannot spare these men here, but I will have others sent back this way. They’ll catch up with you on the road.”
Wu nodded. “And you? Are you going to chase Yi all the way to Shouchun?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Min said solemnly. “When our forces arrived from the north they slammed into Yue’s rear, taking out the majority of the archers. The chariots continued right into the lines of infantry, cutting hundreds down before the men could reorganize themselves, and then all they could do was make an orderly retreat. If the wound you say King Yi had is grave, then perhaps he’ll not be leading the remnants of his army for long.”
“I’ll come back to Ying as quickly as I can, but not until Yue is dealt with,” Min continued. “Su will no doubt insist upon a quick, though lavish, funeral for his father.”
“Shangdi demands such,” Wu said.
Min nodded. “He does. You’ll both understand my not being there, then?”
“Come back to the capital as fast as you can,” Wu said. “I fear for Su. The nobles will see this as an opportunity for themselves. We may have won the battle, and we may even defeat the State of Yue for good, but we’ve lost our duke. Word of the Duke’s death may even reach the capital before I do, and if that’s the case many of the nobles will come rushing back.”
“Handle them as best as you can, I’ll make haste in dealing with Yi. If everything goes right he’ll not see his own capital again.”
Wu nodded and he and Min clasped hands before Wu got into the chariot with Dao’s body. He took up the reins and Min gave a final wave from his own chariot before putting it into motion. Within minutes he was out of view. Once again Wu was alone with Dao’s body. He looked down at the blood-stained brown robes covering the duke and thought of the man he had come to know so well over the past two years. When he had met him, Dao had been more timid than anything. Oh, he was a ruler, able to be strong when necessary, but he had lacked the decisiveness that was needed if Chu wanted to again become great. That trait which had been lacking when they first met had been in evidence on the battlefield today, however, and it had cost Dao his life. Hopefully his death would not be in vain, and his courage at the end would be a signal for his son on how to rule. Wu let out a deep breath and cracked the reins across the two horses. He had to get back to Ying, and fast.
SEVENTEEN
Pai Fen burst into the room, a servant close behind.
“Sir, you can’t go in there,” the servant said futilely to his back.
Pai rushed up to the desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand, a large smile on his face. Dao An looked up at the face he had come to know so well over the years in the Noble’s Council and raised his hand.
“It’s alright, leave us,” Dao said to his servant with a dismissive wave.
It wasn’t until the servant had closed the large double doors that Pai backed away from the desk and began pacing the room excitedly.
“Well, what is it that’s so important you have to barge in here like this,” Dao said, his annoyance at the sudden intrusion outweighed by his curiosity.
Pai held up the paper in front of him and thrust it out to Dao. Dao took it gingerly and carefully smoothed it out on his desk, but Pai didn’t give him the chance to read it.
“Duke Dao is dead!” he cried out in joyous relief.
Dao An looked up at him, his eyes narrowing, not sure if Pai was out of his senses or actually telling the truth. He quickly scanned the paper in front of him. It detailed the battle that had taken place on a vast plain two day’s march from the city, but it was the last words that stopped Dao short. ‘Duke Dao was killed in a charge against King Yi,’ it said simply.
“’Duke Dao was killed,’” Dao read aloud from the letter, his face screwed up in disbelief.
“In a charge against King Yi, if you can believe that!” Pai said loudly and with a smile. “Who would have thought that our timid duke, so fond of sitting in his palace on cushions and lace, could find it in himself to lead a charge in battle.”
“And against King Yi of all people,” Dao said quietly, rising from his chair to peer out the window and down to the street below. Peasants walked about with sacks of grain, baskets of produce, and animals in cages or under arms. None were aware of the enormity of what had just taken place a two-day ride from the city.
Dao turned urgently back to Pai. “When did this arrive? How old is the news?”
“Not an hour ago,” Pai replied. “As to how old,” he scratched at his gray mustache and beard, “that is not as easy to say. I suspect the battle took place yesterday. This message is from one of the smaller towns on the road leading to the plain where it took place.”
“And who is the one who sent it?” Dao asked. “How many others know?”
“One of the lesser nobles that was sent out of the capital during the first wave of Wu’s exiles,” Pai answered. “As you know, I’ve taken great pains to have a loyal network of such men, eyes and ears around the state, if you will.”
“Yes.” Dao knew all about Pai’s network of eyes and ears, men’s whose allegiance ran toward Pai and his money, not to the State of Chu.
“As to your other question ‘how many others know,’ that I cannot be certain of. You know quickly news can spread when nobles begin to talk. Thankfully it’s confined to the countryside for now.”
“We’d best find out, and fast,” Dao said. “If this battle took place yesterday then the Duke’s body will be arriving at the head of the army tomorrow.”
Dao began rustling through papers on his desk, overturning an inkpot in the process, before he looked up to see Pai staring at him with that smile so many found ingratiating but which Dao now only found annoying.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Dao said quickly.
“The Duke’s body will not be coming back into the city at the head of the army,” Pai laughed. “It will be coming back with an escort of but a dozen chariots.”
“A dozen chariots?” Dao’s confusion must have been plain, for Pai pulled out one of the chairs and sat down across from the desk.
“General Min has gone in pursuit of King Yi’s army. It’s said that the King suffered a grievous injury during the battle, by Duke Dao’s
own hand.” Pai’s smile got larger as he spoke, and his eyes gleamed when he came to the last. “It’s also said that Wu Qi drives the chariot that holds the duke’s body.”
“No!” Dao said, falling back into his own chair. “Shangdi be praised!”
“Shangdi be praised!” Pai echoed, rising from his chair with a laugh and few quick hops about the room.
Dao leaned back in his chair. The army would not be back in time for the funeral, not if they were going off to finish King Yi. They might even have to go all the way to Shouchun; perhaps even engage in a lengthy siege. Tradition dictated that the Duke be given a funeral within two days of his death, and that would be tomorrow.
“There will be no protection for Wu Qi when he arrives,” Dao said.
“Few soldiers remain in the city,” Pai agreed. “Now is our time to act.”
“Wu Qi is not a stupid man. He’ll suspect some kind of plot against him.”
“Let him jump at shadows,” Pai said. “We control the city, there’s no way he can stop us.”
“And what of the Duke’s son? Su will be Duke in his own right now.”
“He is a young man, and even more pliable than his father was. He will go along with whatever we want, he has to.”
“You sound quite sure of yourself.”
Pai sat back down across from Dao. “Nobles across the country are already receiving the news from their own contacts. Many are already returning from the nearest cities. By this time tomorrow a hundred of them will be in attendance for the funeral. They’ll bring their men with them, men trained as soldiers; men who serve us, not Su.” Pai folded his hands in front of his face and peered over them at Dao. “Perhaps it’s time for a new ruler of Chu, one not of the Xiong line.”
“That is a dangerous route to take, and one that not all the nobles will be so quick to follow.”
“Many will follow it if it means they can return to the capital. If it’s Fei Lin that you’re worried about, don’t be; he’s already agreed to whatever course I deem prudent,” Pai said.
“You spoke to him before coming to me?” Dao said, perturbed.
“I knew that you would go along with me, I didn’t know if Fei would. It seemed wise to find out where he stood before we put a plan into place.”
“You should have come to me first,” Dao said.
Pai waved the words away. “It is done, Fei is with us.”
Dao rose once again and went to the window. He looked down on the people going about their business, oblivious to the plots hatching around them.
“And what is this plan?” Dao asked. Even without taking his eyes from the window he knew that Pai was smiling.
EIGHTEEN
Wu was met by fifty chariots when he was still an hour outside Anyi. Word had obviously gotten back to the capital about the duke’s death, something he had hoped wouldn’t have happened. It had been a foolish hope, he had known that the moment it entered his head, but he had hoped it nonetheless. The men were wearing white robes, funeral garb, and in the lead chariot rode Su Xiong, the man who would soon be the new Duke of Chu. The long white sleeves of his robes billowed in the wind and his long black hair flew behind him, untied. The young man, Wu still had trouble not thinking of him as still a boy, was clean shaven, and even from a distance of several dozen yards Wu could make out the piercing black eyes that looked so commanding, but which merely hid his timidity.
Wu raised one arm up as he tugged on the reins with the other, a signal for the chariots behind him to slow to a stop. Su Xiong did the same at the head of his column, but kept his own chariot moving until it came up alongside Wu.
“Wu Qi,” Su said as he handed his reins to the soldier next to him and hopped down from the chariot, “thank you for making haste from the battlefield.”
“It was the least I could do, Sire,” Wu said honestly.
Su walked around to the back of Wu’s chariot just as Wu jumped down. “I’m not your Duke yet, not until we have the funeral for my father.”
Wu nodded, but Su didn’t see; his eyes were fastened on the covered body on the floor of the chariot’s car. He stared at it for several moments as if getting up his courage to have a look, then finally stepped forward and threw off the brown robes, now more covered in dust than blood. Duke Dao’s body had become quite pale over the past day, but the dry and crusted blood that covered his chest and side made it clear how he had died.
“I hear that he died fighting King Yi, and almost had him too, until an archer interfered.”
“He had the King on his knees,” Wu confirmed. “I killed the archer myself, but not until he had already put an arrow in your father’s back.”
“And my father ordered the charge?” Su asked as he replaced the robes over his father’s face. “He was never one known for his courage and daring.”
“It was his idea and there was no talking him out of it; I tried,” Wu replied.
“If he only would have waited another hour the northern force would have arrived,” Su said more to himself than to Wu.
Wu nodded again, surprised by how much the events of the battle had already filtered back to the capital. Wu had raced back well into the night, stopping only when it became impossible to see, and then starting again well before the sun was up. How had news traveled so fast? Someone in the army must have sent off a bird to Su, he thought. And if a bird could have gone to the duke’s heir, how many had been sent to his enemies? What did the nobles know, and what were they planning on doing next? Wu left the questions unsaid and inquired about the funeral instead.
“We’ll head straight to the temple” Su said. “Arrangements are in place and hundreds are already awaiting us there. The news of my father’s death came as quite a shock to most, so we can expect thousands to line the route to the temple. They were already gathering when we left.” Su raised his arm up and waved back at his column of men. Several jumped down from their chariots and rushed toward him.
“Hundreds?” Wu asked, surprised that so many would already be in the large temple to Shangdi. “Is that safe?”
Su’s brows knitted as he looked at Wu. “Why wouldn’t it be? What harm could come at a funeral for my father?”
The boy’s as naïve as he is young, Wu thought as the soldiers arrived and began lifting up Dao’s body. “The Nobles, Sire. Surely some of them view this time, when the old duke is dead and the new one yet to be proclaimed, as the perfect opportunity to end the Xiong line for good. Such an act would throw the city into chaos, and a strong noble, Pai Fen or Dao An for example, would welcome such as an excuse to seize power.”
“It’s funny that you should mention those two, Wu, for it was both of them together that brought me the news of the battle.” Su clasped his hands behind his back and followed the soldiers carrying his father’s body toward his own chariot. The soldiers gently placed the body on the floor of the chariot then rushed back to their own cars. Su turned again to face Wu when they were gone. “I would have expected my father’s generals to send word of the battle, and my father’s death, as quickly as possible. Instead that word was sent through others, and to the nobles, not the duke’s son.”
“General Min and I both thought that secrecy would be the best course to take,” Wu explained. “Both of us fear what the nobles are capable of, especially those two.” Wu reached out and grabbed Su’s arm. “I beg you, Sire, send word back for the temple to be cleared. Let us have a small and private funeral.”
Su looked down at Wu’s hand on his arm and then into Wu’s eyes. Wu frowned and pulled his hand back before Su climbed back into his chariot. “The enemy you should fear is defeated and running back to Shouchun as we speak,” Su said as he took the reins from the soldier next to him. “The Nobles of Chu mean us no harm.”
Su cracked his reins lightly and steered the horses around Wu’s chariot so they were facing back toward the city. He stopped once again to look down on Wu.
“You’ve done much good for Chu, but you’ve also made many enemie
s along the way. My rule will not be like my father’s, and I fear I’ve no need of a castoff from the Wei Army any longer. Your ideas have caused strife in the state and done more harm than good. We were nearly crushed on those plains, proving that your military prowess is no more. You’re free to attend the funeral, then free to do as you please.”
Su cracked the reins and his chariot lurched into motion. Wu stood in the faint cloud of dust thrown up and watched the next Duke of Chu ride back along the road from whence he came, his chariots falling into line behind him.
Wu watched him go, the chariots that had followed him from the battle also following Su back into the city.
What did he mean by ‘my rule will not be like my father’s? Wu thought as he watched the column of chariots disappear into their cloud of dust. Sure, Duke Dao hadn’t been the most actionable of rulers, but he’d proven his valor at the end. And more importantly, Wu knew, he had accepted new and radical ideas. Dao had known that his state was falling further and further behind, and he took action to remedy the situation. The fact that those actions just happened to be spurred by someone from the State of Qi shouldn’t have had much bearing.
But perhaps it did, after all, Wu thought. The nobles wanted him dead, Min was certain of it and Wu was himself now. Duke Dao had never been close to the nobles, knowing them for what they were: a true drain on the state. Was Su different? Had he somehow developed a cozy relationship with the nobles over the past two years? Wu hadn’t spent too much time around Su, but he did sense him to be even more timid than his father had been at times. Was he now making up for that timidity with the power of the nobles backing him up? Or was he blindly setting himself up for a tragedy?
Wu hopped back into his chariot and charged toward the city. If he was in danger, Su was even more so.
The Warring States, Books 1-3 Page 39
