892 - The Royal Court
892 - The Royal Court
The Royal Court
*** Orchid Temple, Chiang Saen, Nanzhao, 892 AD***
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
As each repetition of the prayer ended, the teak log hanging on its ropes in the middle of the courtyard, swung forward to strike the bronze gong. The deep sonorous sound rippled across the town. For those who cared to listen, the sound also echoed off the mountains that surrounded Chiang Saen and returned to the town that gave it birth. In doing so, it appeared to accompany the measured, reverent repetition of the prayer voiced by the townspeople gathered within. Around them, incense burning in the bronze lamp-like vases caused swirls of sweet, pleasant smoke to tint the courtyard. The rest of the town was silent, those not attending the service instead worshipping at the shrines in their own homes. Soon, the monks would leave the temple, beginning their daily procession around the town to collect the alms upon which they depended. Forbidden by custom to grow food for themselves or to touch money, the monks relied on the charity of the townspeople for their very survival. If they fell short of the standard of devout holiness their congregation expected of them, the monks would learn of that fact very quickly from the emptiness of their stomachs.
Princess Suriyothai Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen bowed down again as the traditional chant was repeated. As befitting the wife of the local prince and the daughter of the provincial leader Duan Siping, she knelt in the front row, leading the congregation as they paid their respects to the Lord Buddha with their prayers. Here, she at least had the shade of the trees to protect her from the glare of the mid-day sun. They would prevent her from committing the ultimate disaster of starting to gain a sun-tan. As the wife of even a third-rank Prince, she was expected to keep her skin milk-white, unlike the peasants whose days laboring in the fields gave them the light brown coloration that marked their lowly status.
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
She rose again, keeping her back perfectly straight, as the last echo from the gong started to fade away. In front of her, the Abbot of the temple looked at her and nodded, very slightly, in approval. Since her marriage four years ago, she had given Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi three strong children, two fine sons, and a daughter who was already showing signs of her mother’s keen intelligence and devotion to duty. She had been fifteen years old when she had arrived in Chiang Saen, a child still in many ways and inexperienced in the responsibilities that came with her marriage. But, she had been quick to learn and even faster to understand the world that now surrounded her. She had absorbed the lessons from her tutors and immediately started to apply them to her daily life. Even more remarkably, she had instinctively recognized those who sought to aid and advise her and distinguish them from those who merely sought to manipulate her for their own ends.
Suriyothai returned the Abbot’s nod, just as slightly, just as imperceptibly. One of the things she had learned was that state power and religion were inextricably mixed in Nanzhao. The authority of the state eventually depended upon its recognition by the Buddhist priesthood as a fit and honorable holder of the power that authority represented. It was by holding that power and by using it wisely that the state ensured the continued dominance of the Buddhist religion. One hand washed the other, and the sound of clapping could only be made by both hands working together. So many other similes, all of which eventually said the same thing, a state could only survive when all within it cooperated for the common good.
She felt sweat starting to trickle down her back and was glad to know that the ceremony was about to end. Her Sabai, the stiff white silk cloth that was draped over her left shoulder, across her chest, and under her right arm, and then secured at her back, would soon start to show the marks of her perspiration and that was something she could not allow. As a Princess, even one of the third rank, she had to appear cool and always collected. Here in Chiang Saen, she was the face of the ruling families and the government, they had founded. Her teachers had told her that in China and Tibet, Nanzhao’s traditional enemies, women were supposed to keep themselves in seclusion but not here in Nanzhao. Here, women were expected to bear their full share of responsibility, of looking after the family interests, of keeping the country running while their men were away at war. Women could even serve in the Army. Suriyothai, like her sisters, and women across the country, had been trained in the use of spear and sword and in riding the tough mountain horses that were the backbone of Nanzhao’s heavy cavalry.
The service over she stood up, once again her back held straight as befitted a princess of Nanzhao. As she made her way towards the street a woman bowed respectfully to her, holding her head low as she waited for Suriyothai to acknowledge her. Once done, she begged the Princess to intercede in a dispute with one of her neighbors whom she accused of moving the border stone that marked the boundary between their fields. Suriyothai waved one of her attendants in, and he started to take down the details of the woman’s case. It would be necessary to send some of her staff to look at the situation and take statements from the accused farmer and the other neighbors. Boundary stone disputes were all too common, after the fields had been flooded, the stones moved as the earth under them shifted. Neighbors who were on good terms would sort things out between themselves but if bad blood existed, they would use the changes to make trouble.
Her duty done, she adjusted her parasol to shade her from the sun and set off back to her home, the grandly-named “palace”. It was just a house, bigger and more luxurious than the average but nothing like the ornate and sumptuous palaces of the capital Dali. Still, one day they would live in one of those palaces. As a true T’ai Princess, Suriyothai had great ambitions for her family.
***Approaching the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao***
This section of the road was brutal, a long steady climb without shade or relief. The hills on either side were bare, stark, and they seemed to funnel in on the road, concentrating the heat and dust on those unfortunate enough to have to use it. Doubly unfortunate were those who were in a great hurry when they used this road for the sun, for the dust and the gradient would suck the life out of them. It would be worse once he entered Habu pass for the road that snaked between the hills in a series of loops that made it look like the deadly snake it was named after. The pass was so narrow that it seemed to suffocate those who had to pass through it, the hills on either side being so close it was almost possible for a man to touch both at once.
There was one good thing about Habu Pass. It was at the top of the gradient. Halfway through, in the middle of the shortest loop, the crest of the ridge was passed, and it was all down from there. The downhill road led out of Habu Pass into Chiang Saen. The hills turned from barren wastes into intricately terraced farmland and ahead lay the city. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom couldn’t wait to get to the city, it wasn’t just the need to be back in civilization after the weeks spent in the wild territory beyond the borders of Nangzhao. He had an urgent message, one so important that it was worth more than his life and that of his horse. His mount was already beginning to founder, its flanks were coated with foam and it was heaving for breath. Gaochai slipped off its back, to give the beast a rest, let it recover at least a little of its strength. He would lose time by being on foot, but if his horse lived a little longer, he would make it back up again.
He was well into the mouth of the path when he heard, faintly but distinctly, the great gong that hung in the temple of Chiang Saen. It echoed in the narrow pass, beckoning Gaochai onwards towards the city that was his goal. He rounded the first sharp elbow-bend just as the faint echo of the bell sounded again. There was just this one last stretch ahead before another elbow-bend took him on to the flat section of road that marked the top of the ridge. His mouth was now so dry he could feel his tongue splitting but he had but a single flask of water left. He took it from his saddle, along with his helmet, and poured the whole contents into the cup-shaped armor. Then, he held his water-filled helmet under the nose of his horse and allowed it to drink the bowl dry.
“Come on old friend, we have to try again.”
Gaochai climbed back on his horse and started up the last long slope. His mount was a little stronger, its distress much less pronounced than a few minutes earlier but they were both still relieved when they rounded the second elbow bend and the road flattened in front of them. Then, the blessed relief, another elbow, and the road angled down. They picked up speed, at last, making up for the time Gaochai had spent on foot, and finally left the end of the pass in fine style. Ahead, across the river, lay Chiang Saen, its white walls and brilliant red roofs glittering in the afternoon sun. Around him, he saw the lush green terraces of fertile fields built into the slopes of the hills. He was home, not far to go, and his message would be well in time. He even allowed a brief stop at the river to drink before entering the town. After all, it would not do to have all this effort and be unable to speak, would it?
The guardhouse at the gate was almost unoccupied and that caused Gaochai great concern. An old man occupied the post, sitting quietly in the shade. Surely, the Prince would not have allowed this level of unpreparedness? Everyone spoke well of him and his young wife.
“I am Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts. I wish to see Prince Bhirombhakdi immediately on a matter of great urgency.”
The old man stood up, his gnarled hand on the sword he wore at his waist. “That is impossible, The Prince is away. The Princess Suriyothai rules here in his name.”
“Away? Where?”
“His Most Gracious Majesty, Mengshe Shunhuazhen summoned the Army to assemble at Dali. The Tang is moving again, and he wished to discourage them.”
Gaochai cursed, his message was going to be too late after all. Nanzhao punched far above its weight in the regional power stakes. They had enough raw military power to make even the Tang Dynasty in China think twice before taking them on. The problem was that military power meant that every able-bodied man in the country served in the Army, when it mobilized the towns and cities were stripped of their defenders. Open and vulnerable. That explained the old man in the guardhouse, every younger man had already left the city.
“I must see the Princess immediately, there is no time to waste.”
The old guard stood and summoned a young boy to run ahead and give warning of Gaochai’s approach. Then, he looked at where Gaochai’s horse was standing, foam-covered and panting. That convinced him more than anything else of Scout’s sincerity. “You will be conducted to Her Highness’s presence. And our grooms will care for your horse.
***Throne Room, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen***
Princess Suriyothai took her place on the throne, casting an alert eye over the counselors who knelt before her. There were those she trusted and those whom she did not but she gave no signs of distinguishing between the two groups. To a practiced eye though, they could be separated by their attitudes and bearing. Once Nanzhao had been a state comprised entirely of the Bai groups but in their expansion from their original homeland around Lake Erhai, they had brought many other local communities under their rule. Some of them were the groups of T’ai to the south and over the last hundred years, the T’ai had become more prominent, slowly establishing themselves as part of the ruling class. Suriyothai herself was a member of those T’ai families, she had been married to Prince Bhirombhakdi of the Bai as part of the quiet struggle for power that was underway. The T’ai and the Bai had rivals, the Yi who looked to Tang China for their support and inspiration. The naïve might think that she should look to the T’ai for her allies and the Yi for her opponents but Suriyothai was young, not naïve.
“Royal Highness, Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts awaits you.”
Suriyothai nodded and settled herself comfortably on the throne, watching her courtiers relax as she did so. A travel-stained, obviously exhausted soldier was ushered through the throne room doors. As he approached her, he dropped respectfully to his knees. “Highness, I have grave news. The Prince of Machulo marches on Chiang Saen. He has sworn to take the city by storm and spare none within.”
A murmur of alarm rippled around the throne room. Suriyothai ignored it, giving no outward sign that it had even registered on her consciousness. Instead, she looked at the man kneeling in front of her, at his condition that spoke more eloquently of the sacrifices he had made to get this message through than any speech could have done.
“Bring tea for this man.” Her voice was calm and quiet. “You have eaten?”
“No, Highness, there was no time. I had to get as far ahead of Machulo as I could.”
“Then you will eat now.” She turned her attention to her servants, “bring rice and pork for him also.”
Her voice, still calm and quiet, dominated the room. “How many men are Machulo bringing?”
“He has a thousand spears Highness and two hundred archers. Very few horses, I would say only twenty at most, and they were his guard. He comes by way of the Willow Road.”
“Foot and archers. No siege train?”
“None, Highness.” Gaochai was interrupted by the maids who set a wooden table in front of him and placed dishes of rice and seasoned pork on it. Another placed a cup before it and filled it with fresh tea.
“Eat and drink while we speak.” Another rustle went around the room, to be allowed to eat in the presence of a Princess, even one of the third rank, was a mark of great distinction. Gaochai drank the tea greedily and picked up a piece of pork with his fingers. “How far behind you is Machulo?”
“Many hours Highness, he will not even reach the Habu Pass by nightfall, not by many miles. He will not move his army by night, I think it will be noon tomorrow before he comes through the pass.”
Suriyothai assessed the information carefully while Gaochai ate. An army setting out to take a city but without a siege, train meant that Machulo knew Chiang Saen was weakly defended at best. The threat to take the city by storm and slay all within was no exaggeration though. The Burmans had a long-standing grudge against Nanzhao, dating back to the time when the Nanzhao kingdoms had broken away from Burman overlordship. The Burman’s hatred for the T’ai was even deeper, fuelled by Nanzhao’s constant southward pressure.
Machulo was coming by the Willow Road. That was no great news, there were few ways through the mountains and fewer still that could support an army on the move. The Willow Road was the only direct path, there were others, but they looped through the passes and would take days longer. That time meant that Chiang Saen would be more likely to get a warning of the impending blow and recall the army to its defense. Machulo must have decided on a quick blow, doubtless, he had received information from within the city of its depleted defense. That meant, almost certainly, from one of the persons within this room.
“Gaochai, I must ask you to ride again today. And through the night if necessary. The Army is a day’s march north of here on the Dali Road. Every hour wasted means they will be further away. So, waste no time in going after them. Take two horses from the Royal stables, the best we have there. Ride one hard and when it is exhausted, change to the other. Cast the tired horse free, it will find its way back here. But you must reach Prince Bhirombhakdi without delay. Tell him what you have told us here. Tell him that Princess Suriyothai asks that he send help back to protect the city. Ride hard, Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts, Chiang Saen places its safety in your hands.”
Gaochai stood, then bowed respectfully to the Princess and backed out of the throne room. After he had departed, the ripple of alarm and fear spread through the audience. Suriyothai let her gaze run over the group again. Some were openly scared, knowing what would happen when, if, the Burmans broke into the city. Others were thoughtful, weighing possible courses of action and their own personal position. She could guess what a sub-group of the latter were thinking. Could they strike a deal with Machulo? Could they buy their way out of this situation? It was a good question and one she could not blame them for thinking. She could, and would, blame them if the answer was affirmative.
“Highness.”
The speaker was Luang Katuh na Tali, an old and valued counselor. One whose words Suriyothai placed weight. She divided her courtiers into three classes, untrustworthy, trustworthy, and absolutely trustworthy. Promotion to the last category was posthumous only. Lung Katuh was trustworthy. She reminded herself that trustworthy meant only that somebody could be trusted, not that they should be.
“Speak.”
“Even if the Army turns around as soon as Gaochai reaches them, they will not be back here before late tomorrow at the earliest. Machulo will be here late morning, by early afternoon at the latest. The Army will not be here in time to save us.”
“I know. We will have to slow Machulo up, won’t we? Send word around the city immediately. All unmarried women are to report here at once. I will take them into the pass and we will block it there. In the Habu Pass, a few can hold their ground against many. Here, in the city, get the old men, the boys and the remaining women, anybody who can hold a spear or a crossbow, and get them ready. We will buy you and the army time in Habu Pass.”
Suriyothai looked around the room one last time, carefully marking those who would stand and fight and those who were preparing to run. Sometimes, it was good to have an emergency or two, they separated the strong from the weak and the loyal from the disloyal.
*** Orchid Temple, Chiang Saen, Nanzhao, 892 AD***
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
As each repetition of the prayer ended, the teak log hanging on its ropes in the middle of the courtyard, swung forward to strike the bronze gong. The deep sonorous sound rippled across the town. For those who cared to listen, the sound also echoed off the mountains that surrounded Chiang Saen and returned to the town that gave it birth. In doing so, it appeared to accompany the measured, reverent repetition of the prayer voiced by the townspeople gathered within. Around them, incense burning in the bronze lamp-like vases caused swirls of sweet, pleasant smoke to tint the courtyard. The rest of the town was silent, those not attending the service instead worshipping at the shrines in their own homes. Soon, the monks would leave the temple, beginning their daily procession around the town to collect the alms upon which they depended. Forbidden by custom to grow food for themselves or to touch money, the monks relied on the charity of the townspeople for their very survival. If they fell short of the standard of devout holiness their congregation expected of them, the monks would learn of that fact very quickly from the emptiness of their stomachs.
Princess Suriyothai Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen bowed down again as the traditional chant was repeated. As befitting the wife of the local prince and the daughter of the provincial leader Duan Siping, she knelt in the front row, leading the congregation as they paid their respects to the Lord Buddha with their prayers. Here, she at least had the shade of the trees to protect her from the glare of the mid-day sun. They would prevent her from committing the ultimate disaster of starting to gain a sun-tan. As the wife of even a third-rank Prince, she was expected to keep her skin milk-white, unlike the peasants whose days laboring in the fields gave them the light brown coloration that marked their lowly status.
“Om Mane Padme Hmm.” Bawhooom.
She rose again, keeping her back perfectly straight, as the last echo from the gong started to fade away. In front of her, the Abbot of the temple looked at her and nodded, very slightly, in approval. Since her marriage four years ago, she had given Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi three strong children, two fine sons, and a daughter who was already showing signs of her mother’s keen intelligence and devotion to duty. She had been fifteen years old when she had arrived in Chiang Saen, a child still in many ways and inexperienced in the responsibilities that came with her marriage. But, she had been quick to learn and even faster to understand the world that now surrounded her. She had absorbed the lessons from her tutors and immediately started to apply them to her daily life. Even more remarkably, she had instinctively recognized those who sought to aid and advise her and distinguish them from those who merely sought to manipulate her for their own ends.
Suriyothai returned the Abbot’s nod, just as slightly, just as imperceptibly. One of the things she had learned was that state power and religion were inextricably mixed in Nanzhao. The authority of the state eventually depended upon its recognition by the Buddhist priesthood as a fit and honorable holder of the power that authority represented. It was by holding that power and by using it wisely that the state ensured the continued dominance of the Buddhist religion. One hand washed the other, and the sound of clapping could only be made by both hands working together. So many other similes, all of which eventually said the same thing, a state could only survive when all within it cooperated for the common good.
She felt sweat starting to trickle down her back and was glad to know that the ceremony was about to end. Her Sabai, the stiff white silk cloth that was draped over her left shoulder, across her chest, and under her right arm, and then secured at her back, would soon start to show the marks of her perspiration and that was something she could not allow. As a Princess, even one of the third rank, she had to appear cool and always collected. Here in Chiang Saen, she was the face of the ruling families and the government, they had founded. Her teachers had told her that in China and Tibet, Nanzhao’s traditional enemies, women were supposed to keep themselves in seclusion but not here in Nanzhao. Here, women were expected to bear their full share of responsibility, of looking after the family interests, of keeping the country running while their men were away at war. Women could even serve in the Army. Suriyothai, like her sisters, and women across the country, had been trained in the use of spear and sword and in riding the tough mountain horses that were the backbone of Nanzhao’s heavy cavalry.
The service over she stood up, once again her back held straight as befitted a princess of Nanzhao. As she made her way towards the street a woman bowed respectfully to her, holding her head low as she waited for Suriyothai to acknowledge her. Once done, she begged the Princess to intercede in a dispute with one of her neighbors whom she accused of moving the border stone that marked the boundary between their fields. Suriyothai waved one of her attendants in, and he started to take down the details of the woman’s case. It would be necessary to send some of her staff to look at the situation and take statements from the accused farmer and the other neighbors. Boundary stone disputes were all too common, after the fields had been flooded, the stones moved as the earth under them shifted. Neighbors who were on good terms would sort things out between themselves but if bad blood existed, they would use the changes to make trouble.
Her duty done, she adjusted her parasol to shade her from the sun and set off back to her home, the grandly-named “palace”. It was just a house, bigger and more luxurious than the average but nothing like the ornate and sumptuous palaces of the capital Dali. Still, one day they would live in one of those palaces. As a true T’ai Princess, Suriyothai had great ambitions for her family.
***Approaching the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao***
This section of the road was brutal, a long steady climb without shade or relief. The hills on either side were bare, stark, and they seemed to funnel in on the road, concentrating the heat and dust on those unfortunate enough to have to use it. Doubly unfortunate were those who were in a great hurry when they used this road for the sun, for the dust and the gradient would suck the life out of them. It would be worse once he entered Habu pass for the road that snaked between the hills in a series of loops that made it look like the deadly snake it was named after. The pass was so narrow that it seemed to suffocate those who had to pass through it, the hills on either side being so close it was almost possible for a man to touch both at once.
There was one good thing about Habu Pass. It was at the top of the gradient. Halfway through, in the middle of the shortest loop, the crest of the ridge was passed, and it was all down from there. The downhill road led out of Habu Pass into Chiang Saen. The hills turned from barren wastes into intricately terraced farmland and ahead lay the city. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom couldn’t wait to get to the city, it wasn’t just the need to be back in civilization after the weeks spent in the wild territory beyond the borders of Nangzhao. He had an urgent message, one so important that it was worth more than his life and that of his horse. His mount was already beginning to founder, its flanks were coated with foam and it was heaving for breath. Gaochai slipped off its back, to give the beast a rest, let it recover at least a little of its strength. He would lose time by being on foot, but if his horse lived a little longer, he would make it back up again.
He was well into the mouth of the path when he heard, faintly but distinctly, the great gong that hung in the temple of Chiang Saen. It echoed in the narrow pass, beckoning Gaochai onwards towards the city that was his goal. He rounded the first sharp elbow-bend just as the faint echo of the bell sounded again. There was just this one last stretch ahead before another elbow-bend took him on to the flat section of road that marked the top of the ridge. His mouth was now so dry he could feel his tongue splitting but he had but a single flask of water left. He took it from his saddle, along with his helmet, and poured the whole contents into the cup-shaped armor. Then, he held his water-filled helmet under the nose of his horse and allowed it to drink the bowl dry.
“Come on old friend, we have to try again.”
Gaochai climbed back on his horse and started up the last long slope. His mount was a little stronger, its distress much less pronounced than a few minutes earlier but they were both still relieved when they rounded the second elbow bend and the road flattened in front of them. Then, the blessed relief, another elbow, and the road angled down. They picked up speed, at last, making up for the time Gaochai had spent on foot, and finally left the end of the pass in fine style. Ahead, across the river, lay Chiang Saen, its white walls and brilliant red roofs glittering in the afternoon sun. Around him, he saw the lush green terraces of fertile fields built into the slopes of the hills. He was home, not far to go, and his message would be well in time. He even allowed a brief stop at the river to drink before entering the town. After all, it would not do to have all this effort and be unable to speak, would it?
The guardhouse at the gate was almost unoccupied and that caused Gaochai great concern. An old man occupied the post, sitting quietly in the shade. Surely, the Prince would not have allowed this level of unpreparedness? Everyone spoke well of him and his young wife.
“I am Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts. I wish to see Prince Bhirombhakdi immediately on a matter of great urgency.”
The old man stood up, his gnarled hand on the sword he wore at his waist. “That is impossible, The Prince is away. The Princess Suriyothai rules here in his name.”
“Away? Where?”
“His Most Gracious Majesty, Mengshe Shunhuazhen summoned the Army to assemble at Dali. The Tang is moving again, and he wished to discourage them.”
Gaochai cursed, his message was going to be too late after all. Nanzhao punched far above its weight in the regional power stakes. They had enough raw military power to make even the Tang Dynasty in China think twice before taking them on. The problem was that military power meant that every able-bodied man in the country served in the Army, when it mobilized the towns and cities were stripped of their defenders. Open and vulnerable. That explained the old man in the guardhouse, every younger man had already left the city.
“I must see the Princess immediately, there is no time to waste.”
The old guard stood and summoned a young boy to run ahead and give warning of Gaochai’s approach. Then, he looked at where Gaochai’s horse was standing, foam-covered and panting. That convinced him more than anything else of Scout’s sincerity. “You will be conducted to Her Highness’s presence. And our grooms will care for your horse.
***Throne Room, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen***
Princess Suriyothai took her place on the throne, casting an alert eye over the counselors who knelt before her. There were those she trusted and those whom she did not but she gave no signs of distinguishing between the two groups. To a practiced eye though, they could be separated by their attitudes and bearing. Once Nanzhao had been a state comprised entirely of the Bai groups but in their expansion from their original homeland around Lake Erhai, they had brought many other local communities under their rule. Some of them were the groups of T’ai to the south and over the last hundred years, the T’ai had become more prominent, slowly establishing themselves as part of the ruling class. Suriyothai herself was a member of those T’ai families, she had been married to Prince Bhirombhakdi of the Bai as part of the quiet struggle for power that was underway. The T’ai and the Bai had rivals, the Yi who looked to Tang China for their support and inspiration. The naïve might think that she should look to the T’ai for her allies and the Yi for her opponents but Suriyothai was young, not naïve.
“Royal Highness, Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts awaits you.”
Suriyothai nodded and settled herself comfortably on the throne, watching her courtiers relax as she did so. A travel-stained, obviously exhausted soldier was ushered through the throne room doors. As he approached her, he dropped respectfully to his knees. “Highness, I have grave news. The Prince of Machulo marches on Chiang Saen. He has sworn to take the city by storm and spare none within.”
A murmur of alarm rippled around the throne room. Suriyothai ignored it, giving no outward sign that it had even registered on her consciousness. Instead, she looked at the man kneeling in front of her, at his condition that spoke more eloquently of the sacrifices he had made to get this message through than any speech could have done.
“Bring tea for this man.” Her voice was calm and quiet. “You have eaten?”
“No, Highness, there was no time. I had to get as far ahead of Machulo as I could.”
“Then you will eat now.” She turned her attention to her servants, “bring rice and pork for him also.”
Her voice, still calm and quiet, dominated the room. “How many men are Machulo bringing?”
“He has a thousand spears Highness and two hundred archers. Very few horses, I would say only twenty at most, and they were his guard. He comes by way of the Willow Road.”
“Foot and archers. No siege train?”
“None, Highness.” Gaochai was interrupted by the maids who set a wooden table in front of him and placed dishes of rice and seasoned pork on it. Another placed a cup before it and filled it with fresh tea.
“Eat and drink while we speak.” Another rustle went around the room, to be allowed to eat in the presence of a Princess, even one of the third rank, was a mark of great distinction. Gaochai drank the tea greedily and picked up a piece of pork with his fingers. “How far behind you is Machulo?”
“Many hours Highness, he will not even reach the Habu Pass by nightfall, not by many miles. He will not move his army by night, I think it will be noon tomorrow before he comes through the pass.”
Suriyothai assessed the information carefully while Gaochai ate. An army setting out to take a city but without a siege, train meant that Machulo knew Chiang Saen was weakly defended at best. The threat to take the city by storm and slay all within was no exaggeration though. The Burmans had a long-standing grudge against Nanzhao, dating back to the time when the Nanzhao kingdoms had broken away from Burman overlordship. The Burman’s hatred for the T’ai was even deeper, fuelled by Nanzhao’s constant southward pressure.
Machulo was coming by the Willow Road. That was no great news, there were few ways through the mountains and fewer still that could support an army on the move. The Willow Road was the only direct path, there were others, but they looped through the passes and would take days longer. That time meant that Chiang Saen would be more likely to get a warning of the impending blow and recall the army to its defense. Machulo must have decided on a quick blow, doubtless, he had received information from within the city of its depleted defense. That meant, almost certainly, from one of the persons within this room.
“Gaochai, I must ask you to ride again today. And through the night if necessary. The Army is a day’s march north of here on the Dali Road. Every hour wasted means they will be further away. So, waste no time in going after them. Take two horses from the Royal stables, the best we have there. Ride one hard and when it is exhausted, change to the other. Cast the tired horse free, it will find its way back here. But you must reach Prince Bhirombhakdi without delay. Tell him what you have told us here. Tell him that Princess Suriyothai asks that he send help back to protect the city. Ride hard, Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts, Chiang Saen places its safety in your hands.”
Gaochai stood, then bowed respectfully to the Princess and backed out of the throne room. After he had departed, the ripple of alarm and fear spread through the audience. Suriyothai let her gaze run over the group again. Some were openly scared, knowing what would happen when, if, the Burmans broke into the city. Others were thoughtful, weighing possible courses of action and their own personal position. She could guess what a sub-group of the latter were thinking. Could they strike a deal with Machulo? Could they buy their way out of this situation? It was a good question and one she could not blame them for thinking. She could, and would, blame them if the answer was affirmative.
“Highness.”
The speaker was Luang Katuh na Tali, an old and valued counselor. One whose words Suriyothai placed weight. She divided her courtiers into three classes, untrustworthy, trustworthy, and absolutely trustworthy. Promotion to the last category was posthumous only. Lung Katuh was trustworthy. She reminded herself that trustworthy meant only that somebody could be trusted, not that they should be.
“Speak.”
“Even if the Army turns around as soon as Gaochai reaches them, they will not be back here before late tomorrow at the earliest. Machulo will be here late morning, by early afternoon at the latest. The Army will not be here in time to save us.”
“I know. We will have to slow Machulo up, won’t we? Send word around the city immediately. All unmarried women are to report here at once. I will take them into the pass and we will block it there. In the Habu Pass, a few can hold their ground against many. Here, in the city, get the old men, the boys and the remaining women, anybody who can hold a spear or a crossbow, and get them ready. We will buy you and the army time in Habu Pass.”
Suriyothai looked around the room one last time, carefully marking those who would stand and fight and those who were preparing to run. Sometimes, it was good to have an emergency or two, they separated the strong from the weak and the loyal from the disloyal.
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Two
** Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen ***
The tunic came first. It was made of silk, raw and unbleached and it was her last line of defense. If an arrow or spearpoint made it through the rest of her armor, this thin layer of silk would wrap itself around the barbed points as they penetrated her body. That would make it much easier for the surgeons to remove the weapon from her and reduce the damage it caused. The garment was freshly boiled to make sure as little dirt as possible would find its way into her wounds. Disease killed more soldiers than battle and infected wounds killed more than mortal ones. The touch of her tunic made Suriyothai tremble slightly for its very presence showed the probability of her own body being ripped by wounds. That probability was all too high.
“The thought of battle excites you, Serene Highness?” Phim had noticed the shudder and misunderstood it. She had been with Suriyothai ever since childhood, part maid, part foster sister. She was two years older than Suriyothai but anybody seeing the pair of them together would have assumed the age relationship was reversed.
“The town must be defended, Phim. There is no other way.” The tunic reached to her knees but was split into three sections below her waist. Suriyothai took the silk leggings that went with the tunic and put them on. Then she wrapped the hanging sections of the tunic around her waist and tied them in place at the front where they would help protect her stomach.
The under-armor came next. Made of soft leather, left flexible so it would absorb blows, the jerkin reached down to her hips. There, it was split so she could ride astride an elephant if necessary, but this was not one of those times. In the Habu Pass, the fighting would be on foot. Below the divide, the leather hung in two panels that provided additional protection for her legs. She settled them in place and fastened two straps that secured them to her thighs. She felt Phim moving and adjusting them slightly so that the fit was perfect.
After that came her chain mail. A sleeveless jacket of it that covered her from neck to thighs. Mail wasn’t too protective in itself but mail backed by leather was surprisingly hard to pierce. It was heavy and Suriyothai sagged slightly under the weight. Once again, she felt the small adjustments and movement as it was settled properly into place. The mail was uncomfortable and chafed her neck. The silk scarf was next and dealt with that problem. She wrapped it around her neck so that it enveloped the edges of her leather and mail. When she was comfortable, she tied it in a knot, the way she had watched the men do.
Her main armor in place, she lifted one foot so the heavy sandal could be strapped on. The thongs from it crisscrossed as they ran up to her knee and served as the attachment points for an armor pad that protected her shins. Her sandals in place, she felt Phim strap the last two pads, the ones that fitted to the outside of her upper arms.
“My sword. Bring me Fire Dragon.”
Phim staggered slightly as she lifted the Dao sword. Suriyothai expected that Phim tended to be theatrical. The sword was heavy though, its design concentrating weight at the tip so it would slice more easily through her enemy. The sword was sheathed on a leather belt that had a diagonal shoulder strap to help distribute the weight. She had practiced with the Dao sword for as long as she could remember and well knew its virtues. It was a true war sword, equally useful for slashing as well as thrusting. It made the over-elaborated swords carried by some of the courtiers look foolish. Its only ostentation was the brilliant red dragon that was engraved three-quarters of the way down the blade.
The next part of her equipment was her helmet. Again, compared with the over-elaborate and heavily adorned helmets sported by some of the men at her court, hers was simple. She shook her head slightly at that thought, there was a simple reason for the difference. Men wore armor for show and to impress their peers. When a woman wore armor, she was in deadly earnest. The helmet settled down over her head, covering the sides and back of her neck. With that in place, she was almost ready.
“You know what to do if Machulo breaks into the city.” Suriyothai’s voice was level even though she was describing the ultimate disaster for her family. If her efforts to hold failed and the city fell, Phim’s last duty was to kill Suriyothai’s children before killing herself. That would save them all from the agonies of the death that Machulo would invent for them. By that time, Suriyothai herself would be dead and the death of her children would mark the end of her family line. Beside her, Phim nodded, understanding for the first time how deadly serious this was.
Suriyothai left the room and walked down the corridor that led to the outside courtyard where the unmarried women of the town were being assembled and given a brief training at the hands of the old men. As soon as she led them out into the Habu pass, those old men would assemble with the married women and they would man the town walls. Like her silk tunic, it was a last, desperate line of defense. There was something she had to do before she joined them. Between her and the courtyard was a small, very private room where the soothsayer awaited her.
On the table was a chart, an octagonal piece of wood. A circular recess had been drilled into the teak by each of the eight faces. Suriyothai knelt beside the table, wondering quietly at how quickly her body had already adapted to wearing the unfamiliar armor. The soothsayer was chanting a prayer, Taoist or Buddhist, she wasn’t quite clear. As it finished, the soothsayer reached into her bag and drew out a circular ivory counter with a symbol stamped on one side. Without looking at its face, she placed it, stamped side down, in the topmost recess on the board. Then, she drew another one and placed it, also face down, in the next recess. And so it went, each disk being placed into its hole until the board was full.
Suriyothai looked down at the deep rich brown of the varnished timber with the eight white ivory disks that would tell her fate. The soothsayer was praying again, seeking the magic formula that would orientate the board. The phase of the moon was a part, as was the direction of the wind. A chicken sat on its eggs in one corner of the room and the direction it faced formed part of the formula that would see the board placed in its proper orientation. Finally, when the correct face of the board pointed north, the soothsayer started to turn the ivory disks over. She started with the one that was orientated to the north. It was the elephant. That disk was followed by the Garuda to the north-east, the tiger to the east, the lion to the south-east, the dog to the south, and the goat to the southwest. The disk for the west was the naga and that of the southwest was the rat. Suriyothai didn’t need the soothsayer’s interpretation to know that the augury was terrible, she could see that the most malignant and dangerous of the influences all lay in the direction of the Habu Pass. The soothsayer sucked her teeth in dismay as she read the board.
“The king is still to the north. Your plea for aid has not reached him yet. The gods are all gathered to the northeast and will be far from you. The only safety for you lies to the east; you must leave for there right away if you are to survive. Your great champion lies far away to the southwest while the people to the south will reward you with loyalty and riches if you go to them with the hand of friendship open. But that lies far, far to the future.” The soothsayer seemed bewildered by what she had just said and what she was foretelling. Then her voice picked up again, “if you go to the west or southwest defeat and treachery await you there.”
It was from the west and southwest that the Burman raiders were approaching. Suriyothai shuddered at the awful congruence of influences. The soothsayer was still speaking to her. “The coming battle will be a disaster for you, Serene Highness, and you will die a terrible death. Flee Highness, throw yourself at the mercy of Machulo. If you do this, prosperity and honor wait for you in his kingdom.”
For a moment, Suroyothai considered following the soothsayer’s advice, then common sense drove away the sense of dread brought on by the augury. *** Tell me something I do not know. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom will not reach the Army until evening at the earliest. If the army advances through the night they can be here by afternoon tomorrow. Your augury means I should run for my life and abandon my city. I will not betray my people. Anyway, whatever the prophecies say, all that awaits me at Machulo’s hands is agonizing and drawn-out death. This will not happen. *** She looked at the soothsayer suspiciously, then shook her head. “Good fortune or bad, I will not desert this town.”
She dropped a small bag of coins into the soothsayer’s hands and left the room, still deeply troubled at the meeting and not just at the prophecies that had been made. She stopped very briefly at the family shrine, sounded the gong, and made a quick prayer. Then, she took a Buddha statue from the figure and hung it around her neck. Perhaps the sacred amulet hanging from its protective circle of silk would shield her from the dreadful fortune that had been foretold. There was something else she needed to make her preparations for the battle complete. The contents of an earthenware jar on the altar might make the difference between victory and defeat. They were grains of rice that had stuck to the pestle during pounding. They had been dyed with a potion of tamarind, cassava, coconut, and coriander while the priests had chanted the verses of a strong protection spell 108 times. Provided she threw it while she was standing on one leg, crossing the grains would surely demoralize the enemy. She tucked the pot into her pack and made a brief prayer. She guessed that she was going to need all the divine intervention she could get.
*** Courtyard, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen***
There were fifty women with spears in the Courtyard. A few already had some armor and the servants were handing out additional pieces from the palace armory. Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen had spent some of the revenues from the city taxes on extra weapons and armor with precisely this situation in mind although even he had never guessed the defenses of his city would be left in the hands of women. *** Or had he? *** Suriyothai thought about that. Her husband always thought far ahead, and this situation might well have been one that had seemed possible to him. Six other women had brought crossbows and were inspecting the iron-shafted bolts they had been given for them carefully. A crossbow was a good weapon for a woman who lived on a farm outside the city but they were only familiar with the wooden-shafted bolts civilians used. The military iron-shafted bolts were new to them.
The older men had the women in lines, each of ten spears. Five lines, the front holding their Qiang spears level, the second row parallel to them, the third angled upwards slightly and the fourth more so. If the formation held, the hedge of spearpoints was fearsome but only if it held. That was the problem. The men were trying to get the women to move and fight as a team, but their success was limited. These were farm women or the daughters of merchants, not soldiers. Individually, they were not unfamiliar with their weapons, but they had been taught to defend themselves, not fight as a group.
“We have until evening. Then, we will rest and eat. Early in the morning, before dawn breaks, I will take them to the Habu Pass. We will be there when the sun comes up. I see no need to march in the morning heat.”
Luang Katuh na Tali nodded approvingly. To keep the training work going until late at night and then march in the heat of the day would have been an amateur’s mistake. It would have meant her force would have started the battle tired from lack of sleep and exhausted from the march. That would have been two more strikes against her already outnumbered force. The schedule she had proposed meant the women would enter battle fresh and rested. Assuming Machulo had force-marched his men to get here, that difference might be crucial. He looked at the Princess out of the corners of his eyes. He had noted how when the old soldiers had told their tales of battles long ago, she had listened intently to their words. At first, he had believed she was simply seeking their favor and support in the constant court intrigues but now he began to wonder how many lessons she had drawn from those tales.
“Where do you plan to do battle, Serene Highness?”
There was a sand table in one corner of the courtyard with a crude map of the Habu Pass drawn on it. Suriyothai looked at it carefully, noting how the path of the Willow Road through the mountains looped and curved with the contours of the hills. She looked at Luang Katuh and put her finger on one of the stretches of the Willow Road, past the crest of the pass and on the down-slope leading to Chiang Saen. “Here. The curves of the mountains and the crest of the ridge will protect us from direct fire while Machulo’s men will be tired from their climb up the slope. As they start their descent, they will break their ranks and that will weaken them. Overconfidence as the descent continues will weaken them further. When they meet us, the shock will be that much greater.”
Luang Katuh looked at the sand table and nodded. “A good stratagem, Serene Highness. One that will favor you in battle.”
Suriyothai nodded and picked up a Qiang spear, noting its smooth, leaf-shaped blade. She adjusted her grip on the shaft and dropped into the proper position. Across the courtyard, the other women saw her do so and redoubled their efforts. If they held the pass, and if they survived doing so, they would be richly rewarded by a grateful prince.
*** Royal Army Encampment, Dali, Nanzhao ***
“And what does my most loyal Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen wish to speak with us about?”
King Mengshe Shunhuazhen looked fondly at the young prince who knelt on the floor before him. He wouldn’t show it but Prince Kulap was a favorite of his, valued for his keen intelligence and the honesty of his rule over Chiang Saen. All too many local rulers thought that ruling meant enriching themselves. Kulap was different and it was that difference that had brought about this meeting. Some Princes of Nanzhao had to wait days for a Royal meeting, others minutes. Kulap had got his meeting instantly and ever-watchful eyes in court drew the lesson almost as quickly.
“Your Most Gracious Majesty, we have been warned by a member of your Royal Scouts, one Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom, that Prince Machulo of the Burmans moves on Chiang Saen with an army of one thousand two hundred foot and twenty horses. The Princess of Chiang Saen has taken the young women into the hills with spear and crossbow to block his advance and begs for my return to reinforce the defenses. The city cannot hold without aid.”
“And what does Prince Kulap think he should do?” The King held up his hand before Kulap could speak. “Answer as a Prince of Nanzhao, not as the husband of Princess Suriyothai and ruler of Chiang Saen.”
The answer he would have to give nearly broke Kulap’s heart but he knew what he would have to say. “The Prince of Nanzhao, Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen, says that he should not return to Chiang Saen. If he were to do so, our force here would be gravely weakened and the Tang would seize the opportunity to engage our divided forces. Even if we were to win that battle, all our enemies would then know that they only had to threaten our cities to gravely weaken our army. If we split our army to save Chiang Saen, we would lose much more than a single city.”
“And yet to give such advice causes you grief beyond measure. Wait while we consult with our generals and evaluate the situation. Then, we will give you your orders.”
King Mengshe rose from the throne and went behind the curtain that separated the army headquarters from the throne room in the great tent that housed both. The minutes ticked by as Prince Kulap knelt on the floor, aware that every moment that passed meant the margin between his arrival and that of Machulo was fading. Eventually, the King returned.
“Prince Kulap, we cannot divide the main army and even if we did, there is but little chance that the infantry we send will reach Chiang Saen before afternoon tomorrow.” Kulap’s heart sank at the words and he knew he had seen his princess and the rest of his family for the last time. “But, our scouts tell us that any battle with the Tang is days, perhaps a week or more of campaigning away. You will take two regiments of our light cavalry and ride through the night. The horses and men are fresh and rested and will be able to maintain a fast advance and reach the city by noon. You will remain for one week at Chiang Saen and then return here. It is up to you to see that Machulo rues the day he ever crossed our borders and you have one week to do it. At the end of that period, you must rejoin the main army. Do you understand these orders?”
“Yes, Most Gracious Majesty.” Kulap’s grief had been replaced by a mixture of joy and pride. Joy in that he would, after all, be able to save his city and pride in that he served a King who, against all odds, could come up with a plan that allowed him to do so. He shuffled backward, out of the Royal Presence, then rose to his feet and set out for the cavalry lines.
By the time he got there, the lines were already chaotic with activity. Horses were being saddled while men hurried to put on their armor and gathered their lances. Kulap looked around and saw the yellow and black pennant of the Tiger Regiment and the solid red pennant of the Fire Regiment being readied. Six hundred veteran horsemen, all as skilled with lance, sword, and crossbow as any in the Army. The King might be detaching a small force for this relief mission, but he was sending his best, two elite light cavalry regiments. Two men, one with red streamers mounted on his helmet, the other with yellow and black ones, were running towards him. The commanders of the Regiments.
“Prince, we will be ready to move out on your command.” Both men seemed more than enthusiastic about the proposed move. Kulap couldn’t blame them, a daring mission like this would bring renown to the regiments and generous rewards for the troops from a grateful town. A good stepping stone, in fact, for a brave regimental commander to a higher rank and better things. And, with a war against the Tang in prospect, there might be many vacancies for them to set their eyes upon.
“Mount up. We have far to go and must ride through the night. The earlier we leave, the sooner we will reach our goal. Chiang Saen awaits us.”
** Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen ***
The tunic came first. It was made of silk, raw and unbleached and it was her last line of defense. If an arrow or spearpoint made it through the rest of her armor, this thin layer of silk would wrap itself around the barbed points as they penetrated her body. That would make it much easier for the surgeons to remove the weapon from her and reduce the damage it caused. The garment was freshly boiled to make sure as little dirt as possible would find its way into her wounds. Disease killed more soldiers than battle and infected wounds killed more than mortal ones. The touch of her tunic made Suriyothai tremble slightly for its very presence showed the probability of her own body being ripped by wounds. That probability was all too high.
“The thought of battle excites you, Serene Highness?” Phim had noticed the shudder and misunderstood it. She had been with Suriyothai ever since childhood, part maid, part foster sister. She was two years older than Suriyothai but anybody seeing the pair of them together would have assumed the age relationship was reversed.
“The town must be defended, Phim. There is no other way.” The tunic reached to her knees but was split into three sections below her waist. Suriyothai took the silk leggings that went with the tunic and put them on. Then she wrapped the hanging sections of the tunic around her waist and tied them in place at the front where they would help protect her stomach.
The under-armor came next. Made of soft leather, left flexible so it would absorb blows, the jerkin reached down to her hips. There, it was split so she could ride astride an elephant if necessary, but this was not one of those times. In the Habu Pass, the fighting would be on foot. Below the divide, the leather hung in two panels that provided additional protection for her legs. She settled them in place and fastened two straps that secured them to her thighs. She felt Phim moving and adjusting them slightly so that the fit was perfect.
After that came her chain mail. A sleeveless jacket of it that covered her from neck to thighs. Mail wasn’t too protective in itself but mail backed by leather was surprisingly hard to pierce. It was heavy and Suriyothai sagged slightly under the weight. Once again, she felt the small adjustments and movement as it was settled properly into place. The mail was uncomfortable and chafed her neck. The silk scarf was next and dealt with that problem. She wrapped it around her neck so that it enveloped the edges of her leather and mail. When she was comfortable, she tied it in a knot, the way she had watched the men do.
Her main armor in place, she lifted one foot so the heavy sandal could be strapped on. The thongs from it crisscrossed as they ran up to her knee and served as the attachment points for an armor pad that protected her shins. Her sandals in place, she felt Phim strap the last two pads, the ones that fitted to the outside of her upper arms.
“My sword. Bring me Fire Dragon.”
Phim staggered slightly as she lifted the Dao sword. Suriyothai expected that Phim tended to be theatrical. The sword was heavy though, its design concentrating weight at the tip so it would slice more easily through her enemy. The sword was sheathed on a leather belt that had a diagonal shoulder strap to help distribute the weight. She had practiced with the Dao sword for as long as she could remember and well knew its virtues. It was a true war sword, equally useful for slashing as well as thrusting. It made the over-elaborated swords carried by some of the courtiers look foolish. Its only ostentation was the brilliant red dragon that was engraved three-quarters of the way down the blade.
The next part of her equipment was her helmet. Again, compared with the over-elaborate and heavily adorned helmets sported by some of the men at her court, hers was simple. She shook her head slightly at that thought, there was a simple reason for the difference. Men wore armor for show and to impress their peers. When a woman wore armor, she was in deadly earnest. The helmet settled down over her head, covering the sides and back of her neck. With that in place, she was almost ready.
“You know what to do if Machulo breaks into the city.” Suriyothai’s voice was level even though she was describing the ultimate disaster for her family. If her efforts to hold failed and the city fell, Phim’s last duty was to kill Suriyothai’s children before killing herself. That would save them all from the agonies of the death that Machulo would invent for them. By that time, Suriyothai herself would be dead and the death of her children would mark the end of her family line. Beside her, Phim nodded, understanding for the first time how deadly serious this was.
Suriyothai left the room and walked down the corridor that led to the outside courtyard where the unmarried women of the town were being assembled and given a brief training at the hands of the old men. As soon as she led them out into the Habu pass, those old men would assemble with the married women and they would man the town walls. Like her silk tunic, it was a last, desperate line of defense. There was something she had to do before she joined them. Between her and the courtyard was a small, very private room where the soothsayer awaited her.
On the table was a chart, an octagonal piece of wood. A circular recess had been drilled into the teak by each of the eight faces. Suriyothai knelt beside the table, wondering quietly at how quickly her body had already adapted to wearing the unfamiliar armor. The soothsayer was chanting a prayer, Taoist or Buddhist, she wasn’t quite clear. As it finished, the soothsayer reached into her bag and drew out a circular ivory counter with a symbol stamped on one side. Without looking at its face, she placed it, stamped side down, in the topmost recess on the board. Then, she drew another one and placed it, also face down, in the next recess. And so it went, each disk being placed into its hole until the board was full.
Suriyothai looked down at the deep rich brown of the varnished timber with the eight white ivory disks that would tell her fate. The soothsayer was praying again, seeking the magic formula that would orientate the board. The phase of the moon was a part, as was the direction of the wind. A chicken sat on its eggs in one corner of the room and the direction it faced formed part of the formula that would see the board placed in its proper orientation. Finally, when the correct face of the board pointed north, the soothsayer started to turn the ivory disks over. She started with the one that was orientated to the north. It was the elephant. That disk was followed by the Garuda to the north-east, the tiger to the east, the lion to the south-east, the dog to the south, and the goat to the southwest. The disk for the west was the naga and that of the southwest was the rat. Suriyothai didn’t need the soothsayer’s interpretation to know that the augury was terrible, she could see that the most malignant and dangerous of the influences all lay in the direction of the Habu Pass. The soothsayer sucked her teeth in dismay as she read the board.
“The king is still to the north. Your plea for aid has not reached him yet. The gods are all gathered to the northeast and will be far from you. The only safety for you lies to the east; you must leave for there right away if you are to survive. Your great champion lies far away to the southwest while the people to the south will reward you with loyalty and riches if you go to them with the hand of friendship open. But that lies far, far to the future.” The soothsayer seemed bewildered by what she had just said and what she was foretelling. Then her voice picked up again, “if you go to the west or southwest defeat and treachery await you there.”
It was from the west and southwest that the Burman raiders were approaching. Suriyothai shuddered at the awful congruence of influences. The soothsayer was still speaking to her. “The coming battle will be a disaster for you, Serene Highness, and you will die a terrible death. Flee Highness, throw yourself at the mercy of Machulo. If you do this, prosperity and honor wait for you in his kingdom.”
For a moment, Suroyothai considered following the soothsayer’s advice, then common sense drove away the sense of dread brought on by the augury. *** Tell me something I do not know. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom will not reach the Army until evening at the earliest. If the army advances through the night they can be here by afternoon tomorrow. Your augury means I should run for my life and abandon my city. I will not betray my people. Anyway, whatever the prophecies say, all that awaits me at Machulo’s hands is agonizing and drawn-out death. This will not happen. *** She looked at the soothsayer suspiciously, then shook her head. “Good fortune or bad, I will not desert this town.”
She dropped a small bag of coins into the soothsayer’s hands and left the room, still deeply troubled at the meeting and not just at the prophecies that had been made. She stopped very briefly at the family shrine, sounded the gong, and made a quick prayer. Then, she took a Buddha statue from the figure and hung it around her neck. Perhaps the sacred amulet hanging from its protective circle of silk would shield her from the dreadful fortune that had been foretold. There was something else she needed to make her preparations for the battle complete. The contents of an earthenware jar on the altar might make the difference between victory and defeat. They were grains of rice that had stuck to the pestle during pounding. They had been dyed with a potion of tamarind, cassava, coconut, and coriander while the priests had chanted the verses of a strong protection spell 108 times. Provided she threw it while she was standing on one leg, crossing the grains would surely demoralize the enemy. She tucked the pot into her pack and made a brief prayer. She guessed that she was going to need all the divine intervention she could get.
*** Courtyard, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen***
There were fifty women with spears in the Courtyard. A few already had some armor and the servants were handing out additional pieces from the palace armory. Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen had spent some of the revenues from the city taxes on extra weapons and armor with precisely this situation in mind although even he had never guessed the defenses of his city would be left in the hands of women. *** Or had he? *** Suriyothai thought about that. Her husband always thought far ahead, and this situation might well have been one that had seemed possible to him. Six other women had brought crossbows and were inspecting the iron-shafted bolts they had been given for them carefully. A crossbow was a good weapon for a woman who lived on a farm outside the city but they were only familiar with the wooden-shafted bolts civilians used. The military iron-shafted bolts were new to them.
The older men had the women in lines, each of ten spears. Five lines, the front holding their Qiang spears level, the second row parallel to them, the third angled upwards slightly and the fourth more so. If the formation held, the hedge of spearpoints was fearsome but only if it held. That was the problem. The men were trying to get the women to move and fight as a team, but their success was limited. These were farm women or the daughters of merchants, not soldiers. Individually, they were not unfamiliar with their weapons, but they had been taught to defend themselves, not fight as a group.
“We have until evening. Then, we will rest and eat. Early in the morning, before dawn breaks, I will take them to the Habu Pass. We will be there when the sun comes up. I see no need to march in the morning heat.”
Luang Katuh na Tali nodded approvingly. To keep the training work going until late at night and then march in the heat of the day would have been an amateur’s mistake. It would have meant her force would have started the battle tired from lack of sleep and exhausted from the march. That would have been two more strikes against her already outnumbered force. The schedule she had proposed meant the women would enter battle fresh and rested. Assuming Machulo had force-marched his men to get here, that difference might be crucial. He looked at the Princess out of the corners of his eyes. He had noted how when the old soldiers had told their tales of battles long ago, she had listened intently to their words. At first, he had believed she was simply seeking their favor and support in the constant court intrigues but now he began to wonder how many lessons she had drawn from those tales.
“Where do you plan to do battle, Serene Highness?”
There was a sand table in one corner of the courtyard with a crude map of the Habu Pass drawn on it. Suriyothai looked at it carefully, noting how the path of the Willow Road through the mountains looped and curved with the contours of the hills. She looked at Luang Katuh and put her finger on one of the stretches of the Willow Road, past the crest of the pass and on the down-slope leading to Chiang Saen. “Here. The curves of the mountains and the crest of the ridge will protect us from direct fire while Machulo’s men will be tired from their climb up the slope. As they start their descent, they will break their ranks and that will weaken them. Overconfidence as the descent continues will weaken them further. When they meet us, the shock will be that much greater.”
Luang Katuh looked at the sand table and nodded. “A good stratagem, Serene Highness. One that will favor you in battle.”
Suriyothai nodded and picked up a Qiang spear, noting its smooth, leaf-shaped blade. She adjusted her grip on the shaft and dropped into the proper position. Across the courtyard, the other women saw her do so and redoubled their efforts. If they held the pass, and if they survived doing so, they would be richly rewarded by a grateful prince.
*** Royal Army Encampment, Dali, Nanzhao ***
“And what does my most loyal Prince Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen wish to speak with us about?”
King Mengshe Shunhuazhen looked fondly at the young prince who knelt on the floor before him. He wouldn’t show it but Prince Kulap was a favorite of his, valued for his keen intelligence and the honesty of his rule over Chiang Saen. All too many local rulers thought that ruling meant enriching themselves. Kulap was different and it was that difference that had brought about this meeting. Some Princes of Nanzhao had to wait days for a Royal meeting, others minutes. Kulap had got his meeting instantly and ever-watchful eyes in court drew the lesson almost as quickly.
“Your Most Gracious Majesty, we have been warned by a member of your Royal Scouts, one Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom, that Prince Machulo of the Burmans moves on Chiang Saen with an army of one thousand two hundred foot and twenty horses. The Princess of Chiang Saen has taken the young women into the hills with spear and crossbow to block his advance and begs for my return to reinforce the defenses. The city cannot hold without aid.”
“And what does Prince Kulap think he should do?” The King held up his hand before Kulap could speak. “Answer as a Prince of Nanzhao, not as the husband of Princess Suriyothai and ruler of Chiang Saen.”
The answer he would have to give nearly broke Kulap’s heart but he knew what he would have to say. “The Prince of Nanzhao, Kulap Bhirombhakdi na Chiang Saen, says that he should not return to Chiang Saen. If he were to do so, our force here would be gravely weakened and the Tang would seize the opportunity to engage our divided forces. Even if we were to win that battle, all our enemies would then know that they only had to threaten our cities to gravely weaken our army. If we split our army to save Chiang Saen, we would lose much more than a single city.”
“And yet to give such advice causes you grief beyond measure. Wait while we consult with our generals and evaluate the situation. Then, we will give you your orders.”
King Mengshe rose from the throne and went behind the curtain that separated the army headquarters from the throne room in the great tent that housed both. The minutes ticked by as Prince Kulap knelt on the floor, aware that every moment that passed meant the margin between his arrival and that of Machulo was fading. Eventually, the King returned.
“Prince Kulap, we cannot divide the main army and even if we did, there is but little chance that the infantry we send will reach Chiang Saen before afternoon tomorrow.” Kulap’s heart sank at the words and he knew he had seen his princess and the rest of his family for the last time. “But, our scouts tell us that any battle with the Tang is days, perhaps a week or more of campaigning away. You will take two regiments of our light cavalry and ride through the night. The horses and men are fresh and rested and will be able to maintain a fast advance and reach the city by noon. You will remain for one week at Chiang Saen and then return here. It is up to you to see that Machulo rues the day he ever crossed our borders and you have one week to do it. At the end of that period, you must rejoin the main army. Do you understand these orders?”
“Yes, Most Gracious Majesty.” Kulap’s grief had been replaced by a mixture of joy and pride. Joy in that he would, after all, be able to save his city and pride in that he served a King who, against all odds, could come up with a plan that allowed him to do so. He shuffled backward, out of the Royal Presence, then rose to his feet and set out for the cavalry lines.
By the time he got there, the lines were already chaotic with activity. Horses were being saddled while men hurried to put on their armor and gathered their lances. Kulap looked around and saw the yellow and black pennant of the Tiger Regiment and the solid red pennant of the Fire Regiment being readied. Six hundred veteran horsemen, all as skilled with lance, sword, and crossbow as any in the Army. The King might be detaching a small force for this relief mission, but he was sending his best, two elite light cavalry regiments. Two men, one with red streamers mounted on his helmet, the other with yellow and black ones, were running towards him. The commanders of the Regiments.
“Prince, we will be ready to move out on your command.” Both men seemed more than enthusiastic about the proposed move. Kulap couldn’t blame them, a daring mission like this would bring renown to the regiments and generous rewards for the troops from a grateful town. A good stepping stone, in fact, for a brave regimental commander to a higher rank and better things. And, with a war against the Tang in prospect, there might be many vacancies for them to set their eyes upon.
“Mount up. We have far to go and must ride through the night. The earlier we leave, the sooner we will reach our goal. Chiang Saen awaits us.”
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Three
Top of the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao
Suriyothai watched Lani na Chiang Saen scuttle down through the rocks towards the group of women resting in the shade. She was the youngest of the group here, untrained in the use of the crossbow and only partially practiced with the spear. She was useless to the small group of bowmen along the ridge and a liability to the women who would form the block on the road. The formation there demanded consolidated strength and one weak link would endanger the whole formation. That left one role for her and that was as a messenger. It was not an unimportant role and she was determined to do her very best.
“Highness, the enemy approaches. There is a small group in advance, about one hundred men with spears. They are not formed up and march as if this was an idle walk in a friendly garden.” Lani dropped to her knees as she spoke.
“And so it starts. Get off the ground, foolish girl. We have no time for such nonsense. Go back to the archers up above and tell them to hold their fire. This group we will handle here. The archers will be a nice surprise for the ones who come next. Rest of you, on your feet and form up. We have work to do and the time for relaxing is at an end.”
Suriyothai watched as Lani scrambled back through the rocks, up to where the crossbow archers were hidden. She watched the girl speaking to the oldest of the women up there and then take up a position where she could be seen by Suriyothai on the path below. That made the Princess nod with satisfaction; the girl had worked out how to transfer news without running backward and forwards. That was a problem solved. Now to address the business of the day. “Everybody up. Get into formation. Five ranks.”
The women scrambled up and managed to find their assigned places in the phalanx. In Suriythai’s opinion, that in itself was a minor miracle that augured well for the fighting. Their spears were vertical, although the grasp on them was calculated so that they could swing down to form the hedgehog of points that was the prime function of the infantry. By the time the lead elements of Prince Machulo’s Army had rounded the curve, the women had formed their phalanx and blocked the progress of their enemies. They were right at the crest of the pass, positioned well in advance of the location she had mentioned earlier.
That came as a complete shock to the advance guard. As Lani had warned, they weren’t in formation and only a small handful had drawn swords. The spears that were the primary armament of the infantry were still slung across their backs. Their leader looked in disbelief at the serried ranks ahead of him. “What in the name of all the Gods are you doing here?”
Suriyothai remembered how he had said that but would ponder its meaning later. Instead, she waved her hand in a close approximation of a 100-leader ordering charge. She heard the strange swishing noise that was unique to the spears descending to their combat position and the slam of heavy sandals on the ground as the women broke into a charge. By a miracle, their formation held. At first, the men in front of them couldn’t believe what they were seeing and assumed that the attack was some form of play-acting. By the time they realized the women were deadly serious and we were not going to stop or allow their formation to break, it was too late. Machulo’s men hadn’t even drawn their swords, let alone formed up properly when the spearpoints sliced into them.
Prince Machulo was no fool. The vanguard of his army contained only picked, carefully-selected men who had proven their bravery in battle. They were opposed by a scratch force of women who, the evening before, had not known how to form ranks in battle or to maintain formation while they charged. Yet it was the vanguard who had broken under the unexpected onslaught. The fact of the charge against their unprepared column was enough to start driving them to the rear. As they were forced back, they were unable to get into the close-packed phalanx that was the key to holding a position. Every step back added a quantum of disorder to their ranks and that quantum added exponentially to their confusion and made forcing them to take the next rearward pace so much easier. So it was that a steady retreat became a route with the vanguard fleeing in disorder.
Even within the chaos, a few men tried to hold their ground but in doing so they worsened the position of the rest. Against disciplined, skilled opponents, they may have even saved the day, but they were faced with almost untrained levies who didn’t even rise to the status of raw recruits. Where the handful of men stood, they held part of the line of spearpoints back, but the rest of that line continued the advance. That caused the line to bow and flex and put the advancing women beside and behind the parts of the vanguard who tried to stand. Those men were cut down by spear thrusts in the side and back. The sight demoralized the remainder who saw that even attempting to resist the assault meant death. They fled and for most of them, that meant they died as the spearpoints sank into their unprotected backs.
Suriyothai knew that the charge had done its work. Her phalanx was still shielded by the bend in the road but a few paces further and they would start to be exposed to the main body of Machulo’s army. She took the horn that was the mark of a 100-leader and sounded it. The blast of the ‘halt’ echoed around the rocks and the women came to a ragged halt. They hadn’t learned much in training but instant obedience to that horn was one thing that had been driven home. Their formation was now as much a complete mess as Machulo’s vanguard had been a minute or two earlier and would be torn apart the same way if that force made its charge. Another blast on the horn sounded recall and the women trudged back to their starting point, carefully avoiding stepping on the dead that littered the path of their charge. Incredibly, not one of the casualties was theirs.
Or perhaps not so incredibly, Suriyothai found herself weighing up what had just happened with a curious level of detachment. Those men were caught completely by surprise and took most of their dead while fleeing. The military staff said that a unit will lose many more of its men by breaking and running than they will by standing and fighting no matter how bad the odds against them. They were right.
Overhead, a ten-leader horn sounded. It was the warning that another push was starting, aimed at clearing the unexpected and almost inconsequential obstacle out of Machulo’s way. Prince Machulo did not intend to make the same mistake twice. His men were advancing in formed ranks, their spearpoints already leveled. In the rocks above Suriyothai’s position, Lani was signaling the relative positions of the enemy force. Soon, it would reach the hairpin bend and be able to make its charge. If we break and run as they did, we will all die the same way. From there, the decision almost made itself. She pointed to a crossbow and then at herself. I just hope Lani gets that right.
Suriyothai imagined she could hear the steady tramp of booted feet approaching on the other side of the hairpin bend in Willow Road through the Habu Pass. She could also imagine the sound of crossbows firing and the sudden, surprised screams of men as the iron-shafted bolts tore into their necks. If Lani had passed the order correctly, the half-dozen women with crossbows up on the ridge had picked the 100-leaders and 50-leaders as their primary targets. There was a temptation to try and pick off the most senior leaders but her tutors had cautioned against that. When the battle between the spear ranks started, it would be the 50-leaders and 10-leaders who would keep the ranks in order and ensure that the men fought hard. If the battle went badly, it would be the 100-leaders who stopped the force from descending into a rout. Once having set the battle in motion, the 1000-leaders and above would be mostly spectators and primarily concerned with what was to come next. So, to win a battle, target the mid-level leaders.
She had one thing left to do. Standing on one leg, she took the pouch of enchanted rice and threw handfuls out across the area that would be occupied by the enemy while calling out the required chant.
“Kār tāy k̄hing s̄a wạn nā pĕn
Khwām rū̂s̄ụk dạng t̀i pị nī̂
Muttan Smrithir Inamana
Vaidaiya Survar
Bath tsupnis̄ạth p̣hāy tı̂ tsupnis̄ạth"
The women under her command heard the familiar words and straightened slightly, knowing that the enemy would surely be sorely disadvantaged by the prayer and offering. And, when the serried ranks of enemy spearmen rounded the hairpin bend and started to advance on the waiting defenders, it seemed as if they were right. As the Machulo spearmen moved down the slope, their ranks started to become more ragged and their advance less certain. Suriyothai took heart; the Gods were obviously on her side. Which threw more doubts into her mind on other matters, but she resolutely put them to one side. If I survive this mess, then I can deal with those matters then. If I do not, then they do not matter.
The problems Machulo’s men were facing had very little to do with spells, incantations, or the favor of the gods. They were trying to advance, in a tight-packed formation, over ground that was liberally strewn with the bodies of the vanguard that had been so humiliatingly routed. Those bodies were interfering with the footing of the advancing phalanx and had already caused several of the men to stumble. In doing so, they had knocked into several other men and caused them to do the same. To make matters worse, three of the ten leaders in the formation had already been killed by crossbow bolts. It was the ten leaders who were responsible for keeping the ranks of spearmen tightly dressed and in good order. The survivors were doing their work well, the dead were, quite obviously not. As a result, the formation was beginning to be off-balance.
Above the formation, on the ridge that formed the spine of the hairpin bend, the six women armed with crossbows had been driven back from their initial position overlooking the bulk of Machulo’s army. Their first strike had been successful but Machulo’s bowmen outnumbered them thirty to one and the volume of fire had made that position untenable. Instead, the crossbow women had retreated behind the ridge crest and were now in a position to fire down on the advancing phalanx. Quite naturally, they picked the nearest targets and that meant the two files on the left of the advancing line. They brought down four of the twenty men in those two files and added to the growing disorder on the left of Machulo’s phalanx.
The small victory cost them. Machulo’s archers were firing upwards so their arrows arched over the ridge crest and started to land on the reverse slope. The chance of any individual arrow striking home was slight, but so many were being fired that the odds mounted quickly. One of the women had already been killed and another wounded. A few of the arrows fired over the ridge were pattering down on the road where they were as much a danger to Machulo’s spearmen as they were to Suriyothai’s little group. By the time the two groups had moved into contact, Machulo’s archers had ceased fire. In any case, they had done their work; Suriyothai’s crossbow-women had been forced back out of the fighting.
The crash as the two sets of spears tore into each other sent shattering echoes through the narrow, sheer-sided pass. Machulo’s men had major advantages not least of which was they were professionals who knew what they were doing and had practiced their maneuvers on real battlefields many times before. They were also slightly uphill of the Chiang Saen force and were individually stronger than the women facing them. They had the same frontage as the women, ten files, but each file had ten men as opposed to the five women who were blocking their way. That put even more weight and power behind their advance. To offset those advantages, they had the unsure, unsteady footing that was already disrupting their advance, and their left was already weakened.
Each side used the same basic tactic. The front three ranks thrust with their spears as the attack while the ranks behind them held their spears at an angle to form a roof over the front ranks that would deflect arrows. Facing them, their opponents were trying to turn the spearpoints away with parries, preventing the points of the enemy spears from cutting into their ranks. It was a grisly, laborious parody of a mass fencing match and that was another problem Machulo’s men faced. Almost by definition, the phalanxes of spearmen could not be a decisive force. They could block an advance, they could pin down an enemy, but they simply lacked the power to breakthrough. Normally, the spearmen would define the front line and fix the enemy allowing their cavalry to smash into the enemy flank and rout the defenders. Only, in the Habu Pass, there was no way Machulo’s cavalry could pull an outflanking move.
The battle quickly resolved into the ‘push of the pike’ with the two phalanxes trying to force the other back. There, the superior strength and training of Machulo’s men started to tell. Their parries to spear thrusts were the more forceful and they pushed aside the probing spearpoints with greater ease. Their thrusts were less easily blocked and they started to force the Chiang Saen women back. Only on the weakened left did the women hold their ground. That little proved to be decisive.
With Machulo’s right advancing and his left falling back, his line was starting to pivot, not much but just enough progressively to expose his men to sideways thrusts from the women. For once, the women’s inexperience and their thin line worked to their advantage. The women at the rear of their phalanx saw the advantage and knew of no reason why they should not take advantage of it. Instead of covering the women in front, they took the easy target being offered and thrust it at an angle into the exposed men. The unexpected attack killed several of the men in the exposed file and that reduced the effectiveness of that formation.
While the attack had been unexpected, there was a drill to deal with it, just as there was a drill for everything. In this case, the 100-leader sounded his horn and the phalanx began to fall back. The principle was quite simple; to drop back and so break contact with the enemy, reform, and then resume the push forward.
The problem was that it wasn’t going to be so simple. The drill was predicated on two equal formations with roughly equal abilities. Therefore, dropping back would allow the formation that started its retrograde first to gain a few paces and that was all they would need to reorganize their ranks. Only the women they faced were in much thinner ranks and they didn’t know enough about what they were doing to be cautious. Their five-deep formation outpaced the ten-deep phalanx facing them and kept up the pressure as it retreated. Under that pressure, a few steps somehow became many and another of Machulo’s companies was losing men and being pushed back. Once they had been pushed back to the hairpin bend they faced a serious problem. They couldn’t go back around the bend in formation without exposing their seriously-weakened left to more harm.
At the same point, Suriyothai realized that she couldn’t advance further without exposing her tiny group to the fire of Machulo’s archers. Despite the tempting sight of a phalanx piled up and disrupted on the hairpin curve, she sounded the retreat and her company dropped back. This time their advance hadn’t been bloodless. Six of the women were dead and three more badly wounded. Effectively, she had lost one of the ranks of her phalanx. More than a dozen of Machulo’s men were dead on the ground as well but she knew the mathematics of combat well enough to understand that she might have won tactically here, but she was slowly but surely losing the battle.
She glanced upwards; the sun had climbed far since the fighting had started and now seemed to be close to its zenith. She and her group of women had bought an hour, perhaps more. She could feel the sweat running down her back, soaking the silk she wore under her armor and making her skin itch ferociously. She's been in the sun for hours and sadly recognized that it would be months before she could get rid of the suntan she had acquired. Around her, the surviving women of her unit were wiping their faces and drying their hands. A few were trying to wipe the blood from their faces where wounds, those of the enemy and themselves, had sprayed them with gore. Suriyothai wiped her face and was startled to see blood on her hand. She too was covered with the blood spilled by the fighting. She consoled herself with the thought that at least it wasn't hers.
Them, it was back to business. She’d only just managed to get her ranks back into some semblance of order when the rhythmic crash of Machulo’s spearmen marching forward told her the brief respite was over. Machulo had sent more of his men to replace the losses and, in particular, the essential ten leaders who were really fighting this battle. This time, the pressure mounted more quickly and its effects were more pronounced. Suriyothai watched as her ranks were pushed back quickly and she could see what that meant. The pass was widening as it led downhill and the ten-strong ranks that had blocked the path before were now thinning as the walls receded. She could see something else; soon the enemy would have advanced far enough for Machulo to bring some of his archers around the hairpin bend to where they could fire on the survivors of her blocking force. The next bend that would give her women some cover was several dozen paces to the rear, and she guessed that it was already an open question if any of her force would survive to reach it.
It wasn't just the archers Suriyothai was worried about. Machulo's force also contained skirmishers, mobile infantry trained to use their initiative and harass the phalanxes in front of them. A small group of them had seen an opportunity caused by the widening pass and tried to infiltrate the gap between her phalanx and the pass walls. She ran forward and managed to get into that gap before the skirmishers could use it to turn the flank of her spearwomen. Fire Dragon was already in her hand and her downward slash caught the first skirmisher just where his neck and shoulder met and opened up his chest. She felt the blood spray over her but didn’t have time to realize what that meant. She was too busy parrying a sword blow from a second skirmisher. He was a better, stronger swordsman than she was, and he was driving her backward when a crossbow bolt took him in the throat.
That side duel had done something other than eliminate two more of Machulo's men. It had eased the pressure on the remains of her phalanx and allowed her to break contact and reorganize. More than half the women whom she had brought to the Habu pass were already dead. Combined with the increased width of the road, she could only now form two ranks of 12 spearwomen each. The only good news was that they had reached the next bend before Machulo could bring his archers into play. She was very well aware though that the next thrust would finish her force and knew it was certain she would die sometime in the next few minutes. All that she could pray for now was that the Army could have somehow got enough men to the city to defend it when Machulo's men finally broke through.
Top of the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao
Suriyothai watched Lani na Chiang Saen scuttle down through the rocks towards the group of women resting in the shade. She was the youngest of the group here, untrained in the use of the crossbow and only partially practiced with the spear. She was useless to the small group of bowmen along the ridge and a liability to the women who would form the block on the road. The formation there demanded consolidated strength and one weak link would endanger the whole formation. That left one role for her and that was as a messenger. It was not an unimportant role and she was determined to do her very best.
“Highness, the enemy approaches. There is a small group in advance, about one hundred men with spears. They are not formed up and march as if this was an idle walk in a friendly garden.” Lani dropped to her knees as she spoke.
“And so it starts. Get off the ground, foolish girl. We have no time for such nonsense. Go back to the archers up above and tell them to hold their fire. This group we will handle here. The archers will be a nice surprise for the ones who come next. Rest of you, on your feet and form up. We have work to do and the time for relaxing is at an end.”
Suriyothai watched as Lani scrambled back through the rocks, up to where the crossbow archers were hidden. She watched the girl speaking to the oldest of the women up there and then take up a position where she could be seen by Suriyothai on the path below. That made the Princess nod with satisfaction; the girl had worked out how to transfer news without running backward and forwards. That was a problem solved. Now to address the business of the day. “Everybody up. Get into formation. Five ranks.”
The women scrambled up and managed to find their assigned places in the phalanx. In Suriythai’s opinion, that in itself was a minor miracle that augured well for the fighting. Their spears were vertical, although the grasp on them was calculated so that they could swing down to form the hedgehog of points that was the prime function of the infantry. By the time the lead elements of Prince Machulo’s Army had rounded the curve, the women had formed their phalanx and blocked the progress of their enemies. They were right at the crest of the pass, positioned well in advance of the location she had mentioned earlier.
That came as a complete shock to the advance guard. As Lani had warned, they weren’t in formation and only a small handful had drawn swords. The spears that were the primary armament of the infantry were still slung across their backs. Their leader looked in disbelief at the serried ranks ahead of him. “What in the name of all the Gods are you doing here?”
Suriyothai remembered how he had said that but would ponder its meaning later. Instead, she waved her hand in a close approximation of a 100-leader ordering charge. She heard the strange swishing noise that was unique to the spears descending to their combat position and the slam of heavy sandals on the ground as the women broke into a charge. By a miracle, their formation held. At first, the men in front of them couldn’t believe what they were seeing and assumed that the attack was some form of play-acting. By the time they realized the women were deadly serious and we were not going to stop or allow their formation to break, it was too late. Machulo’s men hadn’t even drawn their swords, let alone formed up properly when the spearpoints sliced into them.
Prince Machulo was no fool. The vanguard of his army contained only picked, carefully-selected men who had proven their bravery in battle. They were opposed by a scratch force of women who, the evening before, had not known how to form ranks in battle or to maintain formation while they charged. Yet it was the vanguard who had broken under the unexpected onslaught. The fact of the charge against their unprepared column was enough to start driving them to the rear. As they were forced back, they were unable to get into the close-packed phalanx that was the key to holding a position. Every step back added a quantum of disorder to their ranks and that quantum added exponentially to their confusion and made forcing them to take the next rearward pace so much easier. So it was that a steady retreat became a route with the vanguard fleeing in disorder.
Even within the chaos, a few men tried to hold their ground but in doing so they worsened the position of the rest. Against disciplined, skilled opponents, they may have even saved the day, but they were faced with almost untrained levies who didn’t even rise to the status of raw recruits. Where the handful of men stood, they held part of the line of spearpoints back, but the rest of that line continued the advance. That caused the line to bow and flex and put the advancing women beside and behind the parts of the vanguard who tried to stand. Those men were cut down by spear thrusts in the side and back. The sight demoralized the remainder who saw that even attempting to resist the assault meant death. They fled and for most of them, that meant they died as the spearpoints sank into their unprotected backs.
Suriyothai knew that the charge had done its work. Her phalanx was still shielded by the bend in the road but a few paces further and they would start to be exposed to the main body of Machulo’s army. She took the horn that was the mark of a 100-leader and sounded it. The blast of the ‘halt’ echoed around the rocks and the women came to a ragged halt. They hadn’t learned much in training but instant obedience to that horn was one thing that had been driven home. Their formation was now as much a complete mess as Machulo’s vanguard had been a minute or two earlier and would be torn apart the same way if that force made its charge. Another blast on the horn sounded recall and the women trudged back to their starting point, carefully avoiding stepping on the dead that littered the path of their charge. Incredibly, not one of the casualties was theirs.
Or perhaps not so incredibly, Suriyothai found herself weighing up what had just happened with a curious level of detachment. Those men were caught completely by surprise and took most of their dead while fleeing. The military staff said that a unit will lose many more of its men by breaking and running than they will by standing and fighting no matter how bad the odds against them. They were right.
Overhead, a ten-leader horn sounded. It was the warning that another push was starting, aimed at clearing the unexpected and almost inconsequential obstacle out of Machulo’s way. Prince Machulo did not intend to make the same mistake twice. His men were advancing in formed ranks, their spearpoints already leveled. In the rocks above Suriyothai’s position, Lani was signaling the relative positions of the enemy force. Soon, it would reach the hairpin bend and be able to make its charge. If we break and run as they did, we will all die the same way. From there, the decision almost made itself. She pointed to a crossbow and then at herself. I just hope Lani gets that right.
Suriyothai imagined she could hear the steady tramp of booted feet approaching on the other side of the hairpin bend in Willow Road through the Habu Pass. She could also imagine the sound of crossbows firing and the sudden, surprised screams of men as the iron-shafted bolts tore into their necks. If Lani had passed the order correctly, the half-dozen women with crossbows up on the ridge had picked the 100-leaders and 50-leaders as their primary targets. There was a temptation to try and pick off the most senior leaders but her tutors had cautioned against that. When the battle between the spear ranks started, it would be the 50-leaders and 10-leaders who would keep the ranks in order and ensure that the men fought hard. If the battle went badly, it would be the 100-leaders who stopped the force from descending into a rout. Once having set the battle in motion, the 1000-leaders and above would be mostly spectators and primarily concerned with what was to come next. So, to win a battle, target the mid-level leaders.
She had one thing left to do. Standing on one leg, she took the pouch of enchanted rice and threw handfuls out across the area that would be occupied by the enemy while calling out the required chant.
“Kār tāy k̄hing s̄a wạn nā pĕn
Khwām rū̂s̄ụk dạng t̀i pị nī̂
Muttan Smrithir Inamana
Vaidaiya Survar
Bath tsupnis̄ạth p̣hāy tı̂ tsupnis̄ạth"
The women under her command heard the familiar words and straightened slightly, knowing that the enemy would surely be sorely disadvantaged by the prayer and offering. And, when the serried ranks of enemy spearmen rounded the hairpin bend and started to advance on the waiting defenders, it seemed as if they were right. As the Machulo spearmen moved down the slope, their ranks started to become more ragged and their advance less certain. Suriyothai took heart; the Gods were obviously on her side. Which threw more doubts into her mind on other matters, but she resolutely put them to one side. If I survive this mess, then I can deal with those matters then. If I do not, then they do not matter.
The problems Machulo’s men were facing had very little to do with spells, incantations, or the favor of the gods. They were trying to advance, in a tight-packed formation, over ground that was liberally strewn with the bodies of the vanguard that had been so humiliatingly routed. Those bodies were interfering with the footing of the advancing phalanx and had already caused several of the men to stumble. In doing so, they had knocked into several other men and caused them to do the same. To make matters worse, three of the ten leaders in the formation had already been killed by crossbow bolts. It was the ten leaders who were responsible for keeping the ranks of spearmen tightly dressed and in good order. The survivors were doing their work well, the dead were, quite obviously not. As a result, the formation was beginning to be off-balance.
Above the formation, on the ridge that formed the spine of the hairpin bend, the six women armed with crossbows had been driven back from their initial position overlooking the bulk of Machulo’s army. Their first strike had been successful but Machulo’s bowmen outnumbered them thirty to one and the volume of fire had made that position untenable. Instead, the crossbow women had retreated behind the ridge crest and were now in a position to fire down on the advancing phalanx. Quite naturally, they picked the nearest targets and that meant the two files on the left of the advancing line. They brought down four of the twenty men in those two files and added to the growing disorder on the left of Machulo’s phalanx.
The small victory cost them. Machulo’s archers were firing upwards so their arrows arched over the ridge crest and started to land on the reverse slope. The chance of any individual arrow striking home was slight, but so many were being fired that the odds mounted quickly. One of the women had already been killed and another wounded. A few of the arrows fired over the ridge were pattering down on the road where they were as much a danger to Machulo’s spearmen as they were to Suriyothai’s little group. By the time the two groups had moved into contact, Machulo’s archers had ceased fire. In any case, they had done their work; Suriyothai’s crossbow-women had been forced back out of the fighting.
The crash as the two sets of spears tore into each other sent shattering echoes through the narrow, sheer-sided pass. Machulo’s men had major advantages not least of which was they were professionals who knew what they were doing and had practiced their maneuvers on real battlefields many times before. They were also slightly uphill of the Chiang Saen force and were individually stronger than the women facing them. They had the same frontage as the women, ten files, but each file had ten men as opposed to the five women who were blocking their way. That put even more weight and power behind their advance. To offset those advantages, they had the unsure, unsteady footing that was already disrupting their advance, and their left was already weakened.
Each side used the same basic tactic. The front three ranks thrust with their spears as the attack while the ranks behind them held their spears at an angle to form a roof over the front ranks that would deflect arrows. Facing them, their opponents were trying to turn the spearpoints away with parries, preventing the points of the enemy spears from cutting into their ranks. It was a grisly, laborious parody of a mass fencing match and that was another problem Machulo’s men faced. Almost by definition, the phalanxes of spearmen could not be a decisive force. They could block an advance, they could pin down an enemy, but they simply lacked the power to breakthrough. Normally, the spearmen would define the front line and fix the enemy allowing their cavalry to smash into the enemy flank and rout the defenders. Only, in the Habu Pass, there was no way Machulo’s cavalry could pull an outflanking move.
The battle quickly resolved into the ‘push of the pike’ with the two phalanxes trying to force the other back. There, the superior strength and training of Machulo’s men started to tell. Their parries to spear thrusts were the more forceful and they pushed aside the probing spearpoints with greater ease. Their thrusts were less easily blocked and they started to force the Chiang Saen women back. Only on the weakened left did the women hold their ground. That little proved to be decisive.
With Machulo’s right advancing and his left falling back, his line was starting to pivot, not much but just enough progressively to expose his men to sideways thrusts from the women. For once, the women’s inexperience and their thin line worked to their advantage. The women at the rear of their phalanx saw the advantage and knew of no reason why they should not take advantage of it. Instead of covering the women in front, they took the easy target being offered and thrust it at an angle into the exposed men. The unexpected attack killed several of the men in the exposed file and that reduced the effectiveness of that formation.
While the attack had been unexpected, there was a drill to deal with it, just as there was a drill for everything. In this case, the 100-leader sounded his horn and the phalanx began to fall back. The principle was quite simple; to drop back and so break contact with the enemy, reform, and then resume the push forward.
The problem was that it wasn’t going to be so simple. The drill was predicated on two equal formations with roughly equal abilities. Therefore, dropping back would allow the formation that started its retrograde first to gain a few paces and that was all they would need to reorganize their ranks. Only the women they faced were in much thinner ranks and they didn’t know enough about what they were doing to be cautious. Their five-deep formation outpaced the ten-deep phalanx facing them and kept up the pressure as it retreated. Under that pressure, a few steps somehow became many and another of Machulo’s companies was losing men and being pushed back. Once they had been pushed back to the hairpin bend they faced a serious problem. They couldn’t go back around the bend in formation without exposing their seriously-weakened left to more harm.
At the same point, Suriyothai realized that she couldn’t advance further without exposing her tiny group to the fire of Machulo’s archers. Despite the tempting sight of a phalanx piled up and disrupted on the hairpin curve, she sounded the retreat and her company dropped back. This time their advance hadn’t been bloodless. Six of the women were dead and three more badly wounded. Effectively, she had lost one of the ranks of her phalanx. More than a dozen of Machulo’s men were dead on the ground as well but she knew the mathematics of combat well enough to understand that she might have won tactically here, but she was slowly but surely losing the battle.
She glanced upwards; the sun had climbed far since the fighting had started and now seemed to be close to its zenith. She and her group of women had bought an hour, perhaps more. She could feel the sweat running down her back, soaking the silk she wore under her armor and making her skin itch ferociously. She's been in the sun for hours and sadly recognized that it would be months before she could get rid of the suntan she had acquired. Around her, the surviving women of her unit were wiping their faces and drying their hands. A few were trying to wipe the blood from their faces where wounds, those of the enemy and themselves, had sprayed them with gore. Suriyothai wiped her face and was startled to see blood on her hand. She too was covered with the blood spilled by the fighting. She consoled herself with the thought that at least it wasn't hers.
Them, it was back to business. She’d only just managed to get her ranks back into some semblance of order when the rhythmic crash of Machulo’s spearmen marching forward told her the brief respite was over. Machulo had sent more of his men to replace the losses and, in particular, the essential ten leaders who were really fighting this battle. This time, the pressure mounted more quickly and its effects were more pronounced. Suriyothai watched as her ranks were pushed back quickly and she could see what that meant. The pass was widening as it led downhill and the ten-strong ranks that had blocked the path before were now thinning as the walls receded. She could see something else; soon the enemy would have advanced far enough for Machulo to bring some of his archers around the hairpin bend to where they could fire on the survivors of her blocking force. The next bend that would give her women some cover was several dozen paces to the rear, and she guessed that it was already an open question if any of her force would survive to reach it.
It wasn't just the archers Suriyothai was worried about. Machulo's force also contained skirmishers, mobile infantry trained to use their initiative and harass the phalanxes in front of them. A small group of them had seen an opportunity caused by the widening pass and tried to infiltrate the gap between her phalanx and the pass walls. She ran forward and managed to get into that gap before the skirmishers could use it to turn the flank of her spearwomen. Fire Dragon was already in her hand and her downward slash caught the first skirmisher just where his neck and shoulder met and opened up his chest. She felt the blood spray over her but didn’t have time to realize what that meant. She was too busy parrying a sword blow from a second skirmisher. He was a better, stronger swordsman than she was, and he was driving her backward when a crossbow bolt took him in the throat.
That side duel had done something other than eliminate two more of Machulo's men. It had eased the pressure on the remains of her phalanx and allowed her to break contact and reorganize. More than half the women whom she had brought to the Habu pass were already dead. Combined with the increased width of the road, she could only now form two ranks of 12 spearwomen each. The only good news was that they had reached the next bend before Machulo could bring his archers into play. She was very well aware though that the next thrust would finish her force and knew it was certain she would die sometime in the next few minutes. All that she could pray for now was that the Army could have somehow got enough men to the city to defend it when Machulo's men finally broke through.
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Four
Reverse Slope of the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao
The battle was all but over and Suriyothai knew that she had lost. The remorseless push of Machulo's spearmen aided by the downwards slope had driven her thinned-out and depleted force methodically backward. Eventually, the point of no return had been reached and her lines had finally broken. What had once been a fence of spear-points had now become a series of individual skirmishes as the women each made a last stand on her own that always ended with her being surrounded and cut down by the enemy spears. Even so, Suriyothai took pride in the fact that not one of them had tried to run. Each had fought and died facing their enemies.
She had her own battle to fight now. She was wielding her sword against the pressing spear points with something close to desperation. Her targets were the wooden shafts behind the gleaming iron of the spearheads, trying to slash through the wood and thus disable the spear. It was working, to a limited extent, although she was constantly having to step back as the thrusts endangered her. She had one option only left that might buy herself and her few surviving women, a little extra time. Behind her, where the next bend in the Willow Road wrapped around the ridge, a winter flood had collapsed a small area of the rock wall. The result was a narrow side channel that led a spear length or two into the rocks before it petered out. It offered a little, short-lived shelter, nothing more than that. The price was that using it would open the way down the Willow Road to Chiang Saen.
That didn’t matter though; nobody consciously decided to seek good ground for their last stand. The surviving members of Suriyothai’s force simply headed for the side channel in an instinctive effort to find the place where they could sell their lives most dearly. They formed one last battle-line, one file deep, across the entrance and leveled their spears to receive the inevitable coup de grace. In front of them, the leading detachment of Machulo’s spearmen formed up as well. Then, led by their 50-leader, they dipped their spears in salute before starting to press their final advance home.
It was an advance that never even got to start. A hail of crossbow bolts scythed into Machulo’s ranks from the worn and exhausted cavalrymen of the Tiger Regiment. As ordered, they had ridden through the night in a desperate attempt to reach Chiang Saen before the city was taken and sacked. By the barest of margins, they had made it and now, they could take over the work of holding the pass. Or, more precisely, drive Machulo's men out of the pass and across the border to their territory. Probably a bit further. Suriyothai watched the yellow-and-black helmet streamers and the leader's battle flags streaming past the entry to the crack in the rocks.
Technically, Machulo could have turned the situation around using the same factors that had allowed the women to hold his raiding force up for so long. The narrowness of the Habu Pass could have been used to channel the cavalrymen into a restricted front and the spearmen could have formed their phalanx and held the Tiger Regiment at bay. But, Machulo's men were dispirited from the long battle against an enemy they should have been able to brush aside and their formation was already badly disrupted. As the Tiger Regiment charged forward, the riders shifting from crossbow to lance, the enemy in front of them started to fall back. Retreat quickly became a rout as the cavalry mixed in with the retreating spearmen. That meant any hope of forming a defensive block was lost. A few of the Tiger Regiment cavalrymen fell, pulled down by spearmen or shot by crossbowmen but Machulo's army was fleeing. That made organized resistance, or even a semi-orderly retreat, impossible. Faced with the inevitable, Machulo's men were throwing down their weapons and raising their arms in the universally-understood gesture of surrender.
Suriyothai cared nothing for that. The stream of troopers from the Tiger Regiment had passed and the ones now in front of her wore the red flag and helmet streamers of the Fire Regiment. One of the horsemen separated from the ranks and rode over to where the handful of surviving women was standing. He slid from his horse and started to search through their number, not a long process for the bodies of most of the women Suriyothai had brought to the Habu Pass with her were still in the Habu Pass. Soon, Prince Kulap stood before his wife, trying desperately not to show emotion at the realization she was still alive. He had almost overlooked her, like all the women she was coated from head to foot with blood spray from the fighting.
"My Princess, you are unhurt?"
"I am, my Prince. And you have appeared just in time to make sure I remain unhurt. My heart is joyful that you are here."
"And mine also. I was afraid that we would not meet again in this world. Your women have fought well and deserve much honor. They will lead us back to Chiang Saen in triumph. With you at their head."
Prince Kulap was saved from saying more by a great cheer that went up from all along the Habu Pass. A messenger galloped up, his face aglow with triumph. "Excellency! We have taken Prince Machulo alive!"
Throne Room, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
Princess Suriyothai took her place on the throne beside Prince Kulap. Now, in his presence, she was only his wife and her status was much less than in his absence. This was apparent from the small size of her throne and the way it placed her beneath him. Nevertheless, his hand had reached down and took hers, squeezing it with affection. The gesture was noticed by the people crowding into the throne room and it reassured them greatly. When such affection existed between the Prince and his family, all were well despite the crisis that had dominated the last two days. That was, of course, why Prince Kulap had made the gesture where it could be seen.
Two Regiments of cavalry had made an impressive parade as they had entered the city, the handful of survivors from the women who had held the passing marching in the place of greatest honor at their head. The cheering of the crowd at the sight of the cavalrymen had been diluted by the sight of how few of the women had survived. Of the fifty spearwomen and six archers Suriyothai had taken to the Habu pass, all but eight spearwomen and a single archer had died.
The loss was terrible for the families of those women. Sons were strong, they could work in the fields or learn trades as blacksmiths or other craftsmen. That was well enough, but a beautiful daughter could make a good marriage and thus create powerful alliances for her family that would stand them in good stead for many years. Now, with so many daughters dead, the hopes of their families for such good fortune were blighted. Prince Kulap and Princess Suriyothai had already exchanged glances that told both of their mutual desire to solve this problem. They would have to speak also with the Abbot of the Orchid Temple about the situation.
Once the throne room was filled, Prince Kulap spoke of the battle that had taken place that morning and of how the bravery of the women had bought enough time for the cavalry to arrive and defend the town. He announced that a stone monument would be erected so that the memory of the women who had lost their lives in the battle would never fade. He also added that detachments of the Fire and Tiger Regiments would be scouring the grounds around the city to ensure that none of the invading forces would remain to harass Chiang Saen. When he had finished he surveyed the room. "Are there any who wish to speak of these events?"
"Your Royal Highness, I am Rachotai Choosak na Chiang Saen, Fifty-Leader of the Fire Regiment. I was betrothed to Khun Malisa Pramoj na Chiang Saen but she now lies amongst the dead, fighting for us all in the Habu Pass. I would respectfully ask your Highness for permission to take her as my Ghost-Wife with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails."
The request caused a stir around the throne room. When a man took a woman as his ghost-wife, she would become his senior wife, her place set at every meal, her birthday and marriage day celebrated with full honors. The husband would have the same duties to his ghost-wife's family as he would have had if she had been alive. If he took a second wife, she would always be junior in status to the ghost-wife so the gesture involved considerable sacrifice for them both. Yet, the display of honor and integrity would stand much to his credit.
"Khun Rachotai, I am humbled by your request." Prince Kulap rose to his feet when speaking to the cavalry officer, an unparalleled honor for the young man. "Permission is granted and be it made known that you are promoted to the rank of Hundred-Leader in the Fire Regiment."
Those in attendance exchanged significant glances, not least of regret that they had not been the first to make the request. It was too late now of course; trying to follow Rachotai's example immediately would be seen as blatantly self-serving. As always in court, there were two divisions of courtier, the quick and the disappointed.
Luang Katuh na Tali also rose to his feet. "Highness, could you honor us by speaking of the fate the stars foretold will fall upon Prince Machulo?"
"The stars foretell nothing. I say what the future holds for him." There was a lash in Prince Kulap's voice. "He now waits in a pit outside, for the city elephants to pay him due honor."
Princess Suriyothai watched the reactions of the crowd. Most shuddered in horror at the fate that awaited Machulo. Let by the great white elephant that was the symbol of royal power, all the elephants of the town would parade to the edge of the pit in which Machulo had been placed. Then, they would turn, lift their tails and make a copious deposit into that pit. Eventually, Machulo would be buried alive in elephant dung and the pit would be filled in so that no trace of him would remain. His name would only be remembered as the man who had fought the women of Chiang Saen - and lost.
They were not the ones who were interested in Suriyothai. It was the ones who did not show satisfaction at the fate of the man who had threatened the city with rape, plunder, and slaughter that were of concern to her. She noted their identities very carefully.
There were more honors to be paid. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom who had ridden hard for three days to save the city was also raised in rank and granted a gift of gold and two fine horses from the Prince's stables. Lani, who had fulfilled her duties as a messenger despite the dangers that exposed her to was made a part of Suriyothai's staff with the rank of lady-in-waiting. Those of Machulo's men who had surrendered were given the most valuable award they could wish. Their lives were spared. A few, inspired by the bravery of the women they had fought volunteered to join the city's defense force. They were mercenaries, mostly, they fought for pay and so could not be depended on and their offers were politely declined.
One man was an exception. He was Zihao Wencheng, the 50-leader who had led his spearmen in saluting the Princess just before the fortunes of the battle had swung against him. His offer was accepted and he too joined Prince Kulap's guard with the duty of instructing the town women in fighting. Never again would the city be left so open and vulnerable. Next time the women had to take the field against an invader, they would be properly trained in the arts of war
Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
“So, now tell me what happened.” Prince Kulap lay back on the silk-covered cushions that were scattered across the bed.
Suriyothai looked up at him from where she was laying, on her stomach with her head propped on her hands. She had bent her legs at the knee and now wiggled her feet, bringing a smile to his face. She knew very well he had little interest in the details of the battle; it was a standard skirmish between two units of spear and those were well-known. She had played every card she had to her best advantage and done well but the truth was, she had avoided defeat by the barest of margins. What her husband wanted to know was what her eyes had seen in the city and how people had reacted as the crisis had developed.
"Two things interested me most. One is that our soothsayer gave me a most intriguing prophecy. She said that the only way I could save us all from a terrible fate was to surrender the city to Machulo and throw myself on his mercy. That didn’t sound right to me."
"I'm not surprised. You believe in prophecies as much as I do. Which is, not at all."
"I know, we make our fate. She didn’t know that though. I keep our disregard for such things as omens and prophecies to ourselves for many of the people here do still put their faith in them and need to know we have paid attention to them. The soothsayer believed what she said would influence me. And she was giving me advice that would have put me into the hands of our enemies."
"Not very good advice then. I suspect you would have been skinned alive and impaled within minutes of surrendering. We need to discuss this with our soothsayer."
"Not quite yet." Suriyothai wiggled her feet again. "We do need to watch her very carefully. If she is in the employ of our enemies, her behavior may tell us much about their plans. And identify them of course."
"Of course. As always, your counsel is wise, my Princess."
"She did say something else, something very strange. She said that our great champion lies far away to the southwest while the people to the south will reward us with loyalty and riches if we go to them with the hand of friendship open. But that lies far, far to the future. I think the people of the south may be Empire of Srivijaya. They are rich and powerful and might indeed make good allies for us. Perhaps contacts with them may be a good step, my Prince?"
"Trying to establish friendly relations is rarely a bad step, my Princess. But to the Southwest? Nothing lies that way but an endless ocean. Unless it isn’t endless after all of course." Prince Kulap reached down and stroked Suriyothai's hair. "I would love to go and see. There is so much of the world we know little of. Now, you said two things puzzled you?"
"Before we set out, Luang Katuh na Tali asked me where I planned to meet the enemy. At the time, I thought little of it, that he just wanted to give me some advice. Advice that he doubtless thought I needed badly. But, my father taught me never to tell others of my plans unless they really, seriously needed to know them. So, I made up a story about meeting Machulo's men halfway down the descent. He approved of that."
"Strange." Prince Kulap frowned. "That was a bad plan of course although it has a superficial attraction. I would have expected him to have counseled you to change your mind. Not to approve a flawed plan."
"I thought he was not listening. When we were in the Habu Pass, I followed my real plan which was to meet Machulo's men just below the crest where we were shielded by the ground but they were exposed to the lookouts I had placed on the high ground. When Machulo's men came upon us, they were surprised, not formed for battle, and had their weapons still slung. We tore into them without delay and their unprepared state was their end. But, I keep thinking, they were expecting us lower down the slope. That was a foolish plan. Wouldn’t they have expected us in a better place?"
"Unless they were told what your plans were. Luang Katuh is an old-established courtier but I do not trust him. Perhaps he is another one we should watch?"
"I think so, my Prince. I thought him trustworthy but now I am less sure. I think that he regarded this city as being his by right and plotted to make his belief reality. Perhaps he thought that if he gave valuable aid to Machulo, he would be rewarded well."
"If he did, that was very foolish. Machulo never rewarded anybody with anything of value. And he firmly believed that somebody who betrayed others to him would also betray him to others. You know, my Princess, Machulo might have been of great aid to us. He has revealed some things that we should be aware of. Anyway, sometimes, it is good to have an emergency or two, they separate the strong from the weak and the disloyal from the loyal."
Suriyothai burst out laughing, remembering that she had thought the same thing when news of Machulo's move had first arrived. "Now, my Prince, tell me of the great Army our king is raising?"
"I must return to it soon. The Tang is moving on our borders and they need to be taught a sharp lesson. Again. If we are fortunate, the sight of our army moving to confront them will end the need for a battle. Our cavalry is the backbone of our strength and two regiments cannot remain detached from our main body for long. We have seven days to make sure this city is properly protected. There is much to do and little time to do it."
"I can think of the most needful action right now." Suriyothai looked up at her husband and arched her eyebrows. Kulap reached down and took her hand to draw her to him. All the time, she was planning the best way to trap the traitors in her city.
Reverse Slope of the Habu Pass, Near Chiang Saen, Nanzhao
The battle was all but over and Suriyothai knew that she had lost. The remorseless push of Machulo's spearmen aided by the downwards slope had driven her thinned-out and depleted force methodically backward. Eventually, the point of no return had been reached and her lines had finally broken. What had once been a fence of spear-points had now become a series of individual skirmishes as the women each made a last stand on her own that always ended with her being surrounded and cut down by the enemy spears. Even so, Suriyothai took pride in the fact that not one of them had tried to run. Each had fought and died facing their enemies.
She had her own battle to fight now. She was wielding her sword against the pressing spear points with something close to desperation. Her targets were the wooden shafts behind the gleaming iron of the spearheads, trying to slash through the wood and thus disable the spear. It was working, to a limited extent, although she was constantly having to step back as the thrusts endangered her. She had one option only left that might buy herself and her few surviving women, a little extra time. Behind her, where the next bend in the Willow Road wrapped around the ridge, a winter flood had collapsed a small area of the rock wall. The result was a narrow side channel that led a spear length or two into the rocks before it petered out. It offered a little, short-lived shelter, nothing more than that. The price was that using it would open the way down the Willow Road to Chiang Saen.
That didn’t matter though; nobody consciously decided to seek good ground for their last stand. The surviving members of Suriyothai’s force simply headed for the side channel in an instinctive effort to find the place where they could sell their lives most dearly. They formed one last battle-line, one file deep, across the entrance and leveled their spears to receive the inevitable coup de grace. In front of them, the leading detachment of Machulo’s spearmen formed up as well. Then, led by their 50-leader, they dipped their spears in salute before starting to press their final advance home.
It was an advance that never even got to start. A hail of crossbow bolts scythed into Machulo’s ranks from the worn and exhausted cavalrymen of the Tiger Regiment. As ordered, they had ridden through the night in a desperate attempt to reach Chiang Saen before the city was taken and sacked. By the barest of margins, they had made it and now, they could take over the work of holding the pass. Or, more precisely, drive Machulo's men out of the pass and across the border to their territory. Probably a bit further. Suriyothai watched the yellow-and-black helmet streamers and the leader's battle flags streaming past the entry to the crack in the rocks.
Technically, Machulo could have turned the situation around using the same factors that had allowed the women to hold his raiding force up for so long. The narrowness of the Habu Pass could have been used to channel the cavalrymen into a restricted front and the spearmen could have formed their phalanx and held the Tiger Regiment at bay. But, Machulo's men were dispirited from the long battle against an enemy they should have been able to brush aside and their formation was already badly disrupted. As the Tiger Regiment charged forward, the riders shifting from crossbow to lance, the enemy in front of them started to fall back. Retreat quickly became a rout as the cavalry mixed in with the retreating spearmen. That meant any hope of forming a defensive block was lost. A few of the Tiger Regiment cavalrymen fell, pulled down by spearmen or shot by crossbowmen but Machulo's army was fleeing. That made organized resistance, or even a semi-orderly retreat, impossible. Faced with the inevitable, Machulo's men were throwing down their weapons and raising their arms in the universally-understood gesture of surrender.
Suriyothai cared nothing for that. The stream of troopers from the Tiger Regiment had passed and the ones now in front of her wore the red flag and helmet streamers of the Fire Regiment. One of the horsemen separated from the ranks and rode over to where the handful of surviving women was standing. He slid from his horse and started to search through their number, not a long process for the bodies of most of the women Suriyothai had brought to the Habu Pass with her were still in the Habu Pass. Soon, Prince Kulap stood before his wife, trying desperately not to show emotion at the realization she was still alive. He had almost overlooked her, like all the women she was coated from head to foot with blood spray from the fighting.
"My Princess, you are unhurt?"
"I am, my Prince. And you have appeared just in time to make sure I remain unhurt. My heart is joyful that you are here."
"And mine also. I was afraid that we would not meet again in this world. Your women have fought well and deserve much honor. They will lead us back to Chiang Saen in triumph. With you at their head."
Prince Kulap was saved from saying more by a great cheer that went up from all along the Habu Pass. A messenger galloped up, his face aglow with triumph. "Excellency! We have taken Prince Machulo alive!"
Throne Room, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
Princess Suriyothai took her place on the throne beside Prince Kulap. Now, in his presence, she was only his wife and her status was much less than in his absence. This was apparent from the small size of her throne and the way it placed her beneath him. Nevertheless, his hand had reached down and took hers, squeezing it with affection. The gesture was noticed by the people crowding into the throne room and it reassured them greatly. When such affection existed between the Prince and his family, all were well despite the crisis that had dominated the last two days. That was, of course, why Prince Kulap had made the gesture where it could be seen.
Two Regiments of cavalry had made an impressive parade as they had entered the city, the handful of survivors from the women who had held the passing marching in the place of greatest honor at their head. The cheering of the crowd at the sight of the cavalrymen had been diluted by the sight of how few of the women had survived. Of the fifty spearwomen and six archers Suriyothai had taken to the Habu pass, all but eight spearwomen and a single archer had died.
The loss was terrible for the families of those women. Sons were strong, they could work in the fields or learn trades as blacksmiths or other craftsmen. That was well enough, but a beautiful daughter could make a good marriage and thus create powerful alliances for her family that would stand them in good stead for many years. Now, with so many daughters dead, the hopes of their families for such good fortune were blighted. Prince Kulap and Princess Suriyothai had already exchanged glances that told both of their mutual desire to solve this problem. They would have to speak also with the Abbot of the Orchid Temple about the situation.
Once the throne room was filled, Prince Kulap spoke of the battle that had taken place that morning and of how the bravery of the women had bought enough time for the cavalry to arrive and defend the town. He announced that a stone monument would be erected so that the memory of the women who had lost their lives in the battle would never fade. He also added that detachments of the Fire and Tiger Regiments would be scouring the grounds around the city to ensure that none of the invading forces would remain to harass Chiang Saen. When he had finished he surveyed the room. "Are there any who wish to speak of these events?"
"Your Royal Highness, I am Rachotai Choosak na Chiang Saen, Fifty-Leader of the Fire Regiment. I was betrothed to Khun Malisa Pramoj na Chiang Saen but she now lies amongst the dead, fighting for us all in the Habu Pass. I would respectfully ask your Highness for permission to take her as my Ghost-Wife with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails."
The request caused a stir around the throne room. When a man took a woman as his ghost-wife, she would become his senior wife, her place set at every meal, her birthday and marriage day celebrated with full honors. The husband would have the same duties to his ghost-wife's family as he would have had if she had been alive. If he took a second wife, she would always be junior in status to the ghost-wife so the gesture involved considerable sacrifice for them both. Yet, the display of honor and integrity would stand much to his credit.
"Khun Rachotai, I am humbled by your request." Prince Kulap rose to his feet when speaking to the cavalry officer, an unparalleled honor for the young man. "Permission is granted and be it made known that you are promoted to the rank of Hundred-Leader in the Fire Regiment."
Those in attendance exchanged significant glances, not least of regret that they had not been the first to make the request. It was too late now of course; trying to follow Rachotai's example immediately would be seen as blatantly self-serving. As always in court, there were two divisions of courtier, the quick and the disappointed.
Luang Katuh na Tali also rose to his feet. "Highness, could you honor us by speaking of the fate the stars foretold will fall upon Prince Machulo?"
"The stars foretell nothing. I say what the future holds for him." There was a lash in Prince Kulap's voice. "He now waits in a pit outside, for the city elephants to pay him due honor."
Princess Suriyothai watched the reactions of the crowd. Most shuddered in horror at the fate that awaited Machulo. Let by the great white elephant that was the symbol of royal power, all the elephants of the town would parade to the edge of the pit in which Machulo had been placed. Then, they would turn, lift their tails and make a copious deposit into that pit. Eventually, Machulo would be buried alive in elephant dung and the pit would be filled in so that no trace of him would remain. His name would only be remembered as the man who had fought the women of Chiang Saen - and lost.
They were not the ones who were interested in Suriyothai. It was the ones who did not show satisfaction at the fate of the man who had threatened the city with rape, plunder, and slaughter that were of concern to her. She noted their identities very carefully.
There were more honors to be paid. Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom who had ridden hard for three days to save the city was also raised in rank and granted a gift of gold and two fine horses from the Prince's stables. Lani, who had fulfilled her duties as a messenger despite the dangers that exposed her to was made a part of Suriyothai's staff with the rank of lady-in-waiting. Those of Machulo's men who had surrendered were given the most valuable award they could wish. Their lives were spared. A few, inspired by the bravery of the women they had fought volunteered to join the city's defense force. They were mercenaries, mostly, they fought for pay and so could not be depended on and their offers were politely declined.
One man was an exception. He was Zihao Wencheng, the 50-leader who had led his spearmen in saluting the Princess just before the fortunes of the battle had swung against him. His offer was accepted and he too joined Prince Kulap's guard with the duty of instructing the town women in fighting. Never again would the city be left so open and vulnerable. Next time the women had to take the field against an invader, they would be properly trained in the arts of war
Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
“So, now tell me what happened.” Prince Kulap lay back on the silk-covered cushions that were scattered across the bed.
Suriyothai looked up at him from where she was laying, on her stomach with her head propped on her hands. She had bent her legs at the knee and now wiggled her feet, bringing a smile to his face. She knew very well he had little interest in the details of the battle; it was a standard skirmish between two units of spear and those were well-known. She had played every card she had to her best advantage and done well but the truth was, she had avoided defeat by the barest of margins. What her husband wanted to know was what her eyes had seen in the city and how people had reacted as the crisis had developed.
"Two things interested me most. One is that our soothsayer gave me a most intriguing prophecy. She said that the only way I could save us all from a terrible fate was to surrender the city to Machulo and throw myself on his mercy. That didn’t sound right to me."
"I'm not surprised. You believe in prophecies as much as I do. Which is, not at all."
"I know, we make our fate. She didn’t know that though. I keep our disregard for such things as omens and prophecies to ourselves for many of the people here do still put their faith in them and need to know we have paid attention to them. The soothsayer believed what she said would influence me. And she was giving me advice that would have put me into the hands of our enemies."
"Not very good advice then. I suspect you would have been skinned alive and impaled within minutes of surrendering. We need to discuss this with our soothsayer."
"Not quite yet." Suriyothai wiggled her feet again. "We do need to watch her very carefully. If she is in the employ of our enemies, her behavior may tell us much about their plans. And identify them of course."
"Of course. As always, your counsel is wise, my Princess."
"She did say something else, something very strange. She said that our great champion lies far away to the southwest while the people to the south will reward us with loyalty and riches if we go to them with the hand of friendship open. But that lies far, far to the future. I think the people of the south may be Empire of Srivijaya. They are rich and powerful and might indeed make good allies for us. Perhaps contacts with them may be a good step, my Prince?"
"Trying to establish friendly relations is rarely a bad step, my Princess. But to the Southwest? Nothing lies that way but an endless ocean. Unless it isn’t endless after all of course." Prince Kulap reached down and stroked Suriyothai's hair. "I would love to go and see. There is so much of the world we know little of. Now, you said two things puzzled you?"
"Before we set out, Luang Katuh na Tali asked me where I planned to meet the enemy. At the time, I thought little of it, that he just wanted to give me some advice. Advice that he doubtless thought I needed badly. But, my father taught me never to tell others of my plans unless they really, seriously needed to know them. So, I made up a story about meeting Machulo's men halfway down the descent. He approved of that."
"Strange." Prince Kulap frowned. "That was a bad plan of course although it has a superficial attraction. I would have expected him to have counseled you to change your mind. Not to approve a flawed plan."
"I thought he was not listening. When we were in the Habu Pass, I followed my real plan which was to meet Machulo's men just below the crest where we were shielded by the ground but they were exposed to the lookouts I had placed on the high ground. When Machulo's men came upon us, they were surprised, not formed for battle, and had their weapons still slung. We tore into them without delay and their unprepared state was their end. But, I keep thinking, they were expecting us lower down the slope. That was a foolish plan. Wouldn’t they have expected us in a better place?"
"Unless they were told what your plans were. Luang Katuh is an old-established courtier but I do not trust him. Perhaps he is another one we should watch?"
"I think so, my Prince. I thought him trustworthy but now I am less sure. I think that he regarded this city as being his by right and plotted to make his belief reality. Perhaps he thought that if he gave valuable aid to Machulo, he would be rewarded well."
"If he did, that was very foolish. Machulo never rewarded anybody with anything of value. And he firmly believed that somebody who betrayed others to him would also betray him to others. You know, my Princess, Machulo might have been of great aid to us. He has revealed some things that we should be aware of. Anyway, sometimes, it is good to have an emergency or two, they separate the strong from the weak and the disloyal from the loyal."
Suriyothai burst out laughing, remembering that she had thought the same thing when news of Machulo's move had first arrived. "Now, my Prince, tell me of the great Army our king is raising?"
"I must return to it soon. The Tang is moving on our borders and they need to be taught a sharp lesson. Again. If we are fortunate, the sight of our army moving to confront them will end the need for a battle. Our cavalry is the backbone of our strength and two regiments cannot remain detached from our main body for long. We have seven days to make sure this city is properly protected. There is much to do and little time to do it."
"I can think of the most needful action right now." Suriyothai looked up at her husband and arched her eyebrows. Kulap reached down and took her hand to draw her to him. All the time, she was planning the best way to trap the traitors in her city.
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Five
Outside the Soothsayer's Hiding Place, Weaver's District, Chiang Saen
Luang Katuh na Tali was a deeply disturbed and angered man. His carefully-planned plot against the rulers of Chiang Saen had failed completely and he was convinced that somehow, suspicion had fallen on him. That, though, was not the reason for his anger. He and his family had been courtiers for more generations than could easily be remembered and every court they had served in had been both deadly and decadent. Plotting had been a rule of life, not a rare exception, and he was disturbed rather than angered by the failure of his latest conspiracy. As his name confirmed, Luang Katuh was from the city of Tali, well to the north of Chiang Saen and a Bai stronghold. So had been Chiang Saen once, but the growing power of the T'ai had displaced the Bai and taken over as the ruling power of the city.
That was what Luang Katuh was scheming to correct. He had allied with a part of the Yi that owed allegiance to the Tang and used their contacts within China to arrange for elements of the Tang Army to make a demonstration on the Nanzhao border. This had successfully drawn the main Nanzhao Army north to meet them and left Chiang Saen exposed. Luang Katuh had them contact Prince Machulo and advised him that Chiang Saen was defenseless. The deal had been simple; Machulo would take the city and pillage it mercilessly and install Luang Katuh as the ruler. Luang Katuh hadn't told his Yi allies about the massacre and pillage part of course. Nor that Machulo would also make sure the T'ai ruling family died in the massacre. All that the Yi knew was that Luang Katuh would take over the city and restore it to Bai rulership. They did not realize that to Luang Katuh, it was better to have a devastating city ruled by the Bai than a prosperous one ruled by the T'ai.
Sarom Maung, the Royal Soothsayer, had been a part of his plan. Her part was to manufacture prophesies that would encourage Princess Suriyothai to surrender to Machulo in the belief this would spare her city and her family. Only, Sarom Maung had failed as badly as Machulo. Her prophecy had been ignored and the Princess had taken a detachment out to the Habu Pass to fight. They had bought enough time to allow the Nanzhao cavalry to arrive. To Luang Katuh's disgust, Machulo had been defeated, largely by a handful of women. Worse, he had been captured alive and that was a direct link to Luang Katuh. Sarom Maung had realized that her false prophecy could incriminate her and she had run from her palace quarters to hide here. By doing so, she had done far more to incriminate herself than her prophesy could have done. And that was why Luang Katuh was an angry man. He knew all too well that the major problem in defeating a plot was knowing one existed. Her flight was more than enough confirmation that a plot had occurred.
In his rage at her foolishness, he had decided to have her killed. Now, standing outside her refuge, he was reconsidering that decision. Normally, a man in his position would not stain his own hands with her blood. I should hire assassins to do the work for me. The problem is those assassins would know who I am and if they are caught, they will not hesitate to speak of everything they knew to buy back their lives or at least be given an easy death. If they reveal I had Sarom Maung killed, there could only be one reason why. To silence her. Then the question becomes silence her why? And the only answer to that would be my involvement in the plot. I would have to silence the assassins as well and then silence the assassins of the assassins. Who knows where that chain could lead? And when the assassins realize I was killing others of their kind, how long before they came after me? There is only one way to guarantee Sarom Maung's silence and that is to kill her myself.
A man who saw himself as a refined courtier, Luang Katuh shrank from the idea of doing his dirty work yet as he thought about the situation, he realized it was the least-worst solution. It was that realization and the effort needed to brace himself for the act that saved him. As he lurked in the night shadows, summoning up the nerve for direct action, he noticed other shadows were lurking in the darkness. With a shudder of very real fear, he realized that Sarom Maung's refuge had already been found by the security forces and was being watched with the specific purpose of trapping other members of the conspiracy. His momentary delay had saved him from walking into the ambush.
At that moment he realized something else. Sarom Maung hadn't just been foolish to run away in the first place. She had compounded her folly by taking shelter in her cousin's workplace. A sensible conspirator would have left the city completely and tried to find another city in which to hide. It suddenly occurred to Luang Katuh that he would be well-advised to do the same himself only that would be giving up any chance of seizing control of the city. Be that as it may, this workplace would be one of the first places that the T'ai would keep under watch. The same would apply to all her family's property. I wonder if her family turned her in to the authorities? It would make sense for them to do so and save themselves from being implicated in her actions.
Luang Katuh felt himself shaking as he realized how brief were the scant few seconds that had saved him from betraying himself. Slowly, very carefully, he withdrew further into the darkness and then slipped silently away. So careful was he to move silently and carefully away from the trap that he failed to notice that he was being followed by two other shadows.
Courtyard, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
Zihao Wencheng looked at the dozen women who paraded before him. Nine of them were the survivors of the women who had fought in the Habu Pass. The other three were newly recruited but well-experienced with the crossbow. A lesser man may have been offended by the small size of the unit he had been entrusted with but Zihao looked beyond that. This small unit was very important and would grow to be more so. His importance would grow with it. Also, he had recognized the survivors of the Habu Pass despite having last seen them coated with the blood of their enemies and waiting to die spear in hand. He nodded respectfully to them and received an equally respectful greeting in return. The process of welding them all into a single unit had begun well. The three newcomers noted the exchange and vowed to earn the same respect. Zihao had also noticed that every one of the women was T'ai. No Bai or Yi. This was hardly surprising; this unit would be Princess Suriyothai's bodyguard. Zihao was a perceptive man and had noticed the tension between the Bai, the Yi, and the T'ai. He was making sure he was on the right side.
He stood in front of his new command and looked at them carefully. "Normally, a commander would give you all a long speech telling you of your duties, both to your community, your families, and each other. I will spare you that. Most of you are veterans already and have proved yourselves beyond any doubt or question. You will never have to prove yourself to anybody ever again. The few of you who did not fight in the Habu Pass, look for inspiration from those who did. You will not find better role models."
Zihao looked at the women and saw them drawing themselves up with pride. That is good, we have built them up and now we can start to take them down. Not too much at once, only a little at a time to show them how much they still have to learn. And how much their new work will differ from standing in the line at a major battle.
"You will soon find that your new duties will require a different set of skills from the battle where you distinguished yourselves. To find a formal battle requires you to remain steadfast in the phalanx of spears and to fight with grim determination to hold your line. This you have shown you can do. But the task of a bodyguard unit requires much more than this. You must be aware of your surroundings at all times, you must be ready to react to a threat without delay. You must have the initiative to note from whence a threat may emerge. Above all, you must learn how to shield your principal regardless of the nature of the attack and who it has come from. In many ways, your task is much closer to army scouts than to army line units. Like Army scouts, sometimes you will perform your duties in uniform, but many times you will do so in civilian clothes. Do you understand this?"
Zihao was delighted to note that the women all thought carefully before nodding in agreement. One of them though took a step forward, indicating she had a question to ask. "Commander Wencheng, are not our spears the wrong weapon for such duties?"
"A good observation. You are quite right, you will have to learn weapons other than spear and crossbow. These include a sword, club, and knife to defend your principal against assassins who may run from the crowd. Spears will be useful sometimes to block areas or establish a boundary. You four with crossbows, many times we will position you so you can watch over an area and identify a threat before it emerges. All of you must learn how to capture somebody so they can be interrogated and the reason for their actions determined. But, we will start from what you already know and develop your skills from there.
"We will start today with your spear. When the Princess is out in public, your spear is a means of keeping a potential assassin away. You will do this by holding your spear horizontally in both hands like this." He held the spear with both hands, spaced so he had absolute control over the weapon. "Do not use the spear aggressively or threaten with the point. Remember the person approaching may well have, probably has, a legitimate reason to petition Her Highness. You are using your spear to mark a boundary, a line that she may not cross until the Princess gives permission. Be polite and friendly, partly because this gives a good impression to the person you have just stopped and partly because it makes your orders more acceptable. People usually respond in the manner by which they were addressed. Rudeness and aggression invite hostility and violence. Politeness and friendliness bring a favorable, cooperative response. If they do not, then something is amiss and you should increase your vigilance. Now, see how I hold my spear? Hold yours the same way. Crossbow holders, watch carefully because you will have to do the same sometimes."
An hour later, Zihao had taught the Princess's Bodyguard the first basic principles of crowd control. Those established, he shifted on to teaching the basic principles of scouting and covert observation. His private guess was that he had less time to complete these lessons than most people thought.
Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
The local detachment of the Tang army was deployed on the high ground that commanded the roads into Anshun. Mostly the troops present were Fubing militia, farmer-soldiers who tended their crops during the height of the harvest season and trained with sword and spear when outside the harvest season. A substantial part of the Tang Army was provided by the Fubing militias. Roughly once every three years, officers of the Imperial Guards would circuit the Fubing communities and recruit likely-looking soldiers based on wealth, physical fitness, and the number of adult males already in a military household. If they were needed for military campaigns, something the Tang authorities preferred to avoid, the required Fubing units would be mobilized and be assigned to a commander and staff sent from the capital. This was to prevent local commanders from bonding too tightly with their men and gaining too much independent power, though lower-ranking officers usually came from within the ranks.
The Fubing units were supposed to be reinforced by specialist units from the full-time military forces who would round off the capabilities of the expeditionary force. Normally, the assembled force would be about two-thirds Fubing and one-third professional soldiers backed up by cavalry recruited from the nomad steppe tribes. That was causing growing concern amongst the part-time soldiers of the Fubing. The reinforcements they had received from the government were very thin. In fact, of the 14,000 men on the high ground, only 2,000 were full-time soldiers. As more and more of the soldiers from Nanzhao appeared, the militia troops were becoming increasingly restive. They were used to fighting as a part of the traditionally massive Chinese armies, not what amounted to a small border guard. There was something else wrong, something they all found troubling. The full-time soldiers were not from the Imperial Capital at Luoyang but the Provincial capital at Chengdu. There was no Imperial presence here at all.
They were not alone in their doubts. Below them, in the valley of the Naliangcun River, the Nanzhao Army was formed up. They had carefully scouted the area and noted both the small force opposed to them and the apparent absence of any reinforcements.
"This has every appearance of a trap." King Mengshe Shunhuazhen looked at the Chinese forces drawn up against him. For an army that had been reported to be the spearhead of a Tang invasion, it was remarkably small. Also, he could see only a small contingent of the professional troops in their black-lacquered armor. The only way to reconcile the reports and the facts demonstrably before him was to assume that there were other large bodies of Tang troops, with a higher proportion of professionals hidden somewhere nearby. It was the time taken to find those extra formations, or in this case not to find them, that had allowed him to send the Fire and Tiger regiments to the relief of Chiang Saen.
"Your Majesty, the Wind, Rain, and Snow light cavalry regiments have scouted the area thoroughly and found no sign of additional forces." King Shunhuazhen watched his military advisor settle back on his horse and look thoughtfully at the enemy force opposite. They were already heavily outnumbered and additional Nanzhao regiments were arriving every day. The Forest and Rock infantry regiments had joined the main Army only that morning while the Fire and Tiger cavalry regiments had returned from Chiang Saen during the night, exhausted men riding exhausted horses but bearing stirring tales of the victory won by the women of the town in the Habu Pass. The two regiments were now in the Army reserve, resting their horses and repeating their tales of their battle to anybody who would listen. "Your Majesty, if this is a trap, it is an exceptionally skillful one. Or perhaps it is a trap on a different level?"
"You have a theory, Zhanlue Guwen?" The King knew his strategic advisor's real name but had difficulty pronouncing it. So, the Chinese term for a strategic advisor was a useful substitute.
“Your Majesty, the Tang administration works top-down. Those who rule, do so from their capital by sending out orders along with the people who execute them. There is little or no way those below can query what is happening. This is quite deliberate; the Tang government does not wish its decisions to be questioned. Yet there are only minor detachments of their troops here and of their high officials I cannot count one. The question that I must ask is, does the administration in Luoyang even know that this confrontation is happening?”
“Now that, Zhanlue Guwen, is a cunning and devious thought. I salute you. Let us pursue it a little further. What would the organizers of this plot gain by usurping the Tang mandate of Heaven in this manner?”
“Majesty, every time we fight the Tang Army, we win despite being outnumbered. What will happen to this force we face when we so heavily outnumber it? We have 15 regiments of infantry, six of heavy cavalry, and six of light. Over 30,000 men already. We will annihilate them. That will be a defeat that the Tang cannot ignore and they really will send the full might of their army against us. We will win that battle too, but it will take time and cost us much in blood. By the time the war is over, our army will be greatly weakened and we will be unable to reverse the changes that have been engineered back home.”
“So, what should we do Zhanlue Guwen?”
“At this point, let us negotiate. We can always fight, but talking has a value all of its own.”
Meeting Point, Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
“We have a chance here to avoid unnecessary shedding of blood and loss of treasure. We also have a responsibility to our soldiers to avoid losing their lives in a futile war. I implore you, Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie, let us find a way to resolve this situation without us reaching such extremities.” King Shunhuazen knew he could afford to be magnanimous if it would lead to avoiding a major conflict. One of the lessons that Zhanlue Guwen had patiently taught him was that the lives of his soldiers should never be wasted on trivial or inconsequential matters. A few very polite words are a tiny price to pay to achieve that aim. My soldiers will fight harder if they are sure they would not be asked to risk their lives unless there was no other way.
“Such words are estimable but do not come well from the mouth of one who commands an army about to invade the empire of the illustrious Tang.” Fu Jun-jie waved his arm at the ranks of Nanzhao regiments drawn up on the Nanzhao side of the river. It was, as Shunhuazen had to admit, a reasonable point when the situation was viewed from the Tang side of the river.
“We received word from our border scouts that the Tang Army was about to invade us and that the spearhead of the invasion force was about to cross the border.” Shunhuazen paused and surveyed the ranks of the Tang force in front of him. “It seems to me that there are remarkably few Imperial troops here for an invasion force. Barely a handful.”
“Provincial forces, not Imperial.” Fu Jun-jie said the words absently then looked around him very hard. The significance of that distinction had suddenly sunk in. “Imperial forces follow us close behind.”
Shunhuazen shook his head slowly. “I fear you have been misled. The Wind, Rain, and Snow light cavalry regiments have been scouting the whole area for more than a week now. They have returned to our camp and the Fog, Storm, and Flood regiments have continued their work. There are no Imperial forces or additional Provincial forces within five days’ march of here. Also, one of our cities was attacked by Prince Machulo and we had to divert two regiments to its aid. That is an odd coincidence especially since we’re only able to send those regiments because we properly scouted this area and found no additional forces.”
Fu Jun-jie found himself nodding in agreement. Word of the assault on Chiang-Saen had spread like wildfire across the northern grass. So had the descriptions about how the unmarried women of the town, led by the Princess in person, had fought heroically against an overwhelming force and held them off until the cavalry had arrived. To Fu Jun-jie the coincidence in which rumors of invasion neatly coincided with a barbarian attack seemed very suspicious indeed. Then, he reflected that the alleged Imperial Messenger had a distinctly Chengdu accent. “Your Majesty admits then that your cavalry has indeed infringed upon our territory.”
Shunhuazen dipped his head in agreement. “This we have done, and we confess freely to the action we took. In mitigation, we thought that an invasion was coming and we had to know your dispositions to defend against it. Had we known that the alleged invasion was so weak, we would not have taken those actions. Of course, if we hadn’t scouted your area, Chiang Saen would undoubtedly have fallen. So, it could be argued that your actions here helped save the city. For which we should be duly grateful. Also, seeing your army here and its total lack of cavalry tells me that the reports of an invasion are false. It is obvious now that you are guarding your border not threatening ours.”
Fun Jun-jie burst out laughing at the careful sophistry that would give him at least some credit for averting a crisis. “Your majesty, there is much for us to discuss, and sitting on two horses in a field does neither of us due courtesy. Perhaps we should discuss this further over rice?”
Outside the Soothsayer's Hiding Place, Weaver's District, Chiang Saen
Luang Katuh na Tali was a deeply disturbed and angered man. His carefully-planned plot against the rulers of Chiang Saen had failed completely and he was convinced that somehow, suspicion had fallen on him. That, though, was not the reason for his anger. He and his family had been courtiers for more generations than could easily be remembered and every court they had served in had been both deadly and decadent. Plotting had been a rule of life, not a rare exception, and he was disturbed rather than angered by the failure of his latest conspiracy. As his name confirmed, Luang Katuh was from the city of Tali, well to the north of Chiang Saen and a Bai stronghold. So had been Chiang Saen once, but the growing power of the T'ai had displaced the Bai and taken over as the ruling power of the city.
That was what Luang Katuh was scheming to correct. He had allied with a part of the Yi that owed allegiance to the Tang and used their contacts within China to arrange for elements of the Tang Army to make a demonstration on the Nanzhao border. This had successfully drawn the main Nanzhao Army north to meet them and left Chiang Saen exposed. Luang Katuh had them contact Prince Machulo and advised him that Chiang Saen was defenseless. The deal had been simple; Machulo would take the city and pillage it mercilessly and install Luang Katuh as the ruler. Luang Katuh hadn't told his Yi allies about the massacre and pillage part of course. Nor that Machulo would also make sure the T'ai ruling family died in the massacre. All that the Yi knew was that Luang Katuh would take over the city and restore it to Bai rulership. They did not realize that to Luang Katuh, it was better to have a devastating city ruled by the Bai than a prosperous one ruled by the T'ai.
Sarom Maung, the Royal Soothsayer, had been a part of his plan. Her part was to manufacture prophesies that would encourage Princess Suriyothai to surrender to Machulo in the belief this would spare her city and her family. Only, Sarom Maung had failed as badly as Machulo. Her prophecy had been ignored and the Princess had taken a detachment out to the Habu Pass to fight. They had bought enough time to allow the Nanzhao cavalry to arrive. To Luang Katuh's disgust, Machulo had been defeated, largely by a handful of women. Worse, he had been captured alive and that was a direct link to Luang Katuh. Sarom Maung had realized that her false prophecy could incriminate her and she had run from her palace quarters to hide here. By doing so, she had done far more to incriminate herself than her prophesy could have done. And that was why Luang Katuh was an angry man. He knew all too well that the major problem in defeating a plot was knowing one existed. Her flight was more than enough confirmation that a plot had occurred.
In his rage at her foolishness, he had decided to have her killed. Now, standing outside her refuge, he was reconsidering that decision. Normally, a man in his position would not stain his own hands with her blood. I should hire assassins to do the work for me. The problem is those assassins would know who I am and if they are caught, they will not hesitate to speak of everything they knew to buy back their lives or at least be given an easy death. If they reveal I had Sarom Maung killed, there could only be one reason why. To silence her. Then the question becomes silence her why? And the only answer to that would be my involvement in the plot. I would have to silence the assassins as well and then silence the assassins of the assassins. Who knows where that chain could lead? And when the assassins realize I was killing others of their kind, how long before they came after me? There is only one way to guarantee Sarom Maung's silence and that is to kill her myself.
A man who saw himself as a refined courtier, Luang Katuh shrank from the idea of doing his dirty work yet as he thought about the situation, he realized it was the least-worst solution. It was that realization and the effort needed to brace himself for the act that saved him. As he lurked in the night shadows, summoning up the nerve for direct action, he noticed other shadows were lurking in the darkness. With a shudder of very real fear, he realized that Sarom Maung's refuge had already been found by the security forces and was being watched with the specific purpose of trapping other members of the conspiracy. His momentary delay had saved him from walking into the ambush.
At that moment he realized something else. Sarom Maung hadn't just been foolish to run away in the first place. She had compounded her folly by taking shelter in her cousin's workplace. A sensible conspirator would have left the city completely and tried to find another city in which to hide. It suddenly occurred to Luang Katuh that he would be well-advised to do the same himself only that would be giving up any chance of seizing control of the city. Be that as it may, this workplace would be one of the first places that the T'ai would keep under watch. The same would apply to all her family's property. I wonder if her family turned her in to the authorities? It would make sense for them to do so and save themselves from being implicated in her actions.
Luang Katuh felt himself shaking as he realized how brief were the scant few seconds that had saved him from betraying himself. Slowly, very carefully, he withdrew further into the darkness and then slipped silently away. So careful was he to move silently and carefully away from the trap that he failed to notice that he was being followed by two other shadows.
Courtyard, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen
Zihao Wencheng looked at the dozen women who paraded before him. Nine of them were the survivors of the women who had fought in the Habu Pass. The other three were newly recruited but well-experienced with the crossbow. A lesser man may have been offended by the small size of the unit he had been entrusted with but Zihao looked beyond that. This small unit was very important and would grow to be more so. His importance would grow with it. Also, he had recognized the survivors of the Habu Pass despite having last seen them coated with the blood of their enemies and waiting to die spear in hand. He nodded respectfully to them and received an equally respectful greeting in return. The process of welding them all into a single unit had begun well. The three newcomers noted the exchange and vowed to earn the same respect. Zihao had also noticed that every one of the women was T'ai. No Bai or Yi. This was hardly surprising; this unit would be Princess Suriyothai's bodyguard. Zihao was a perceptive man and had noticed the tension between the Bai, the Yi, and the T'ai. He was making sure he was on the right side.
He stood in front of his new command and looked at them carefully. "Normally, a commander would give you all a long speech telling you of your duties, both to your community, your families, and each other. I will spare you that. Most of you are veterans already and have proved yourselves beyond any doubt or question. You will never have to prove yourself to anybody ever again. The few of you who did not fight in the Habu Pass, look for inspiration from those who did. You will not find better role models."
Zihao looked at the women and saw them drawing themselves up with pride. That is good, we have built them up and now we can start to take them down. Not too much at once, only a little at a time to show them how much they still have to learn. And how much their new work will differ from standing in the line at a major battle.
"You will soon find that your new duties will require a different set of skills from the battle where you distinguished yourselves. To find a formal battle requires you to remain steadfast in the phalanx of spears and to fight with grim determination to hold your line. This you have shown you can do. But the task of a bodyguard unit requires much more than this. You must be aware of your surroundings at all times, you must be ready to react to a threat without delay. You must have the initiative to note from whence a threat may emerge. Above all, you must learn how to shield your principal regardless of the nature of the attack and who it has come from. In many ways, your task is much closer to army scouts than to army line units. Like Army scouts, sometimes you will perform your duties in uniform, but many times you will do so in civilian clothes. Do you understand this?"
Zihao was delighted to note that the women all thought carefully before nodding in agreement. One of them though took a step forward, indicating she had a question to ask. "Commander Wencheng, are not our spears the wrong weapon for such duties?"
"A good observation. You are quite right, you will have to learn weapons other than spear and crossbow. These include a sword, club, and knife to defend your principal against assassins who may run from the crowd. Spears will be useful sometimes to block areas or establish a boundary. You four with crossbows, many times we will position you so you can watch over an area and identify a threat before it emerges. All of you must learn how to capture somebody so they can be interrogated and the reason for their actions determined. But, we will start from what you already know and develop your skills from there.
"We will start today with your spear. When the Princess is out in public, your spear is a means of keeping a potential assassin away. You will do this by holding your spear horizontally in both hands like this." He held the spear with both hands, spaced so he had absolute control over the weapon. "Do not use the spear aggressively or threaten with the point. Remember the person approaching may well have, probably has, a legitimate reason to petition Her Highness. You are using your spear to mark a boundary, a line that she may not cross until the Princess gives permission. Be polite and friendly, partly because this gives a good impression to the person you have just stopped and partly because it makes your orders more acceptable. People usually respond in the manner by which they were addressed. Rudeness and aggression invite hostility and violence. Politeness and friendliness bring a favorable, cooperative response. If they do not, then something is amiss and you should increase your vigilance. Now, see how I hold my spear? Hold yours the same way. Crossbow holders, watch carefully because you will have to do the same sometimes."
An hour later, Zihao had taught the Princess's Bodyguard the first basic principles of crowd control. Those established, he shifted on to teaching the basic principles of scouting and covert observation. His private guess was that he had less time to complete these lessons than most people thought.
Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
The local detachment of the Tang army was deployed on the high ground that commanded the roads into Anshun. Mostly the troops present were Fubing militia, farmer-soldiers who tended their crops during the height of the harvest season and trained with sword and spear when outside the harvest season. A substantial part of the Tang Army was provided by the Fubing militias. Roughly once every three years, officers of the Imperial Guards would circuit the Fubing communities and recruit likely-looking soldiers based on wealth, physical fitness, and the number of adult males already in a military household. If they were needed for military campaigns, something the Tang authorities preferred to avoid, the required Fubing units would be mobilized and be assigned to a commander and staff sent from the capital. This was to prevent local commanders from bonding too tightly with their men and gaining too much independent power, though lower-ranking officers usually came from within the ranks.
The Fubing units were supposed to be reinforced by specialist units from the full-time military forces who would round off the capabilities of the expeditionary force. Normally, the assembled force would be about two-thirds Fubing and one-third professional soldiers backed up by cavalry recruited from the nomad steppe tribes. That was causing growing concern amongst the part-time soldiers of the Fubing. The reinforcements they had received from the government were very thin. In fact, of the 14,000 men on the high ground, only 2,000 were full-time soldiers. As more and more of the soldiers from Nanzhao appeared, the militia troops were becoming increasingly restive. They were used to fighting as a part of the traditionally massive Chinese armies, not what amounted to a small border guard. There was something else wrong, something they all found troubling. The full-time soldiers were not from the Imperial Capital at Luoyang but the Provincial capital at Chengdu. There was no Imperial presence here at all.
They were not alone in their doubts. Below them, in the valley of the Naliangcun River, the Nanzhao Army was formed up. They had carefully scouted the area and noted both the small force opposed to them and the apparent absence of any reinforcements.
"This has every appearance of a trap." King Mengshe Shunhuazhen looked at the Chinese forces drawn up against him. For an army that had been reported to be the spearhead of a Tang invasion, it was remarkably small. Also, he could see only a small contingent of the professional troops in their black-lacquered armor. The only way to reconcile the reports and the facts demonstrably before him was to assume that there were other large bodies of Tang troops, with a higher proportion of professionals hidden somewhere nearby. It was the time taken to find those extra formations, or in this case not to find them, that had allowed him to send the Fire and Tiger regiments to the relief of Chiang Saen.
"Your Majesty, the Wind, Rain, and Snow light cavalry regiments have scouted the area thoroughly and found no sign of additional forces." King Shunhuazhen watched his military advisor settle back on his horse and look thoughtfully at the enemy force opposite. They were already heavily outnumbered and additional Nanzhao regiments were arriving every day. The Forest and Rock infantry regiments had joined the main Army only that morning while the Fire and Tiger cavalry regiments had returned from Chiang Saen during the night, exhausted men riding exhausted horses but bearing stirring tales of the victory won by the women of the town in the Habu Pass. The two regiments were now in the Army reserve, resting their horses and repeating their tales of their battle to anybody who would listen. "Your Majesty, if this is a trap, it is an exceptionally skillful one. Or perhaps it is a trap on a different level?"
"You have a theory, Zhanlue Guwen?" The King knew his strategic advisor's real name but had difficulty pronouncing it. So, the Chinese term for a strategic advisor was a useful substitute.
“Your Majesty, the Tang administration works top-down. Those who rule, do so from their capital by sending out orders along with the people who execute them. There is little or no way those below can query what is happening. This is quite deliberate; the Tang government does not wish its decisions to be questioned. Yet there are only minor detachments of their troops here and of their high officials I cannot count one. The question that I must ask is, does the administration in Luoyang even know that this confrontation is happening?”
“Now that, Zhanlue Guwen, is a cunning and devious thought. I salute you. Let us pursue it a little further. What would the organizers of this plot gain by usurping the Tang mandate of Heaven in this manner?”
“Majesty, every time we fight the Tang Army, we win despite being outnumbered. What will happen to this force we face when we so heavily outnumber it? We have 15 regiments of infantry, six of heavy cavalry, and six of light. Over 30,000 men already. We will annihilate them. That will be a defeat that the Tang cannot ignore and they really will send the full might of their army against us. We will win that battle too, but it will take time and cost us much in blood. By the time the war is over, our army will be greatly weakened and we will be unable to reverse the changes that have been engineered back home.”
“So, what should we do Zhanlue Guwen?”
“At this point, let us negotiate. We can always fight, but talking has a value all of its own.”
Meeting Point, Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
“We have a chance here to avoid unnecessary shedding of blood and loss of treasure. We also have a responsibility to our soldiers to avoid losing their lives in a futile war. I implore you, Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie, let us find a way to resolve this situation without us reaching such extremities.” King Shunhuazen knew he could afford to be magnanimous if it would lead to avoiding a major conflict. One of the lessons that Zhanlue Guwen had patiently taught him was that the lives of his soldiers should never be wasted on trivial or inconsequential matters. A few very polite words are a tiny price to pay to achieve that aim. My soldiers will fight harder if they are sure they would not be asked to risk their lives unless there was no other way.
“Such words are estimable but do not come well from the mouth of one who commands an army about to invade the empire of the illustrious Tang.” Fu Jun-jie waved his arm at the ranks of Nanzhao regiments drawn up on the Nanzhao side of the river. It was, as Shunhuazen had to admit, a reasonable point when the situation was viewed from the Tang side of the river.
“We received word from our border scouts that the Tang Army was about to invade us and that the spearhead of the invasion force was about to cross the border.” Shunhuazen paused and surveyed the ranks of the Tang force in front of him. “It seems to me that there are remarkably few Imperial troops here for an invasion force. Barely a handful.”
“Provincial forces, not Imperial.” Fu Jun-jie said the words absently then looked around him very hard. The significance of that distinction had suddenly sunk in. “Imperial forces follow us close behind.”
Shunhuazen shook his head slowly. “I fear you have been misled. The Wind, Rain, and Snow light cavalry regiments have been scouting the whole area for more than a week now. They have returned to our camp and the Fog, Storm, and Flood regiments have continued their work. There are no Imperial forces or additional Provincial forces within five days’ march of here. Also, one of our cities was attacked by Prince Machulo and we had to divert two regiments to its aid. That is an odd coincidence especially since we’re only able to send those regiments because we properly scouted this area and found no additional forces.”
Fu Jun-jie found himself nodding in agreement. Word of the assault on Chiang-Saen had spread like wildfire across the northern grass. So had the descriptions about how the unmarried women of the town, led by the Princess in person, had fought heroically against an overwhelming force and held them off until the cavalry had arrived. To Fu Jun-jie the coincidence in which rumors of invasion neatly coincided with a barbarian attack seemed very suspicious indeed. Then, he reflected that the alleged Imperial Messenger had a distinctly Chengdu accent. “Your Majesty admits then that your cavalry has indeed infringed upon our territory.”
Shunhuazen dipped his head in agreement. “This we have done, and we confess freely to the action we took. In mitigation, we thought that an invasion was coming and we had to know your dispositions to defend against it. Had we known that the alleged invasion was so weak, we would not have taken those actions. Of course, if we hadn’t scouted your area, Chiang Saen would undoubtedly have fallen. So, it could be argued that your actions here helped save the city. For which we should be duly grateful. Also, seeing your army here and its total lack of cavalry tells me that the reports of an invasion are false. It is obvious now that you are guarding your border not threatening ours.”
Fun Jun-jie burst out laughing at the careful sophistry that would give him at least some credit for averting a crisis. “Your majesty, there is much for us to discuss, and sitting on two horses in a field does neither of us due courtesy. Perhaps we should discuss this further over rice?”
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Six
Conference Chamber, Royal Pavilion, Naliangcun Valley, Nanzhao. Nine Days Later
By protocol, under Nanzhao’s definitions of protocol anyway, the pavilion was a palace. The King was in residence so that was that. Anywhere, even his field tent, where King Shunhuazhen slept was a palace. The fact that Fu Jun-jie, a mere Zhuhou or district governor, was visiting the palace to negotiate with the King was a mark of personal respect to him but, in a wider sense, recognition of the allegedly overwhelming power of Tang China. The fact that Nanzhao had defeated Tang China in two wars over the same number of decades was being diplomatically not mentioned.
Another factor that was diplomatically not mentioned was that the alleged ‘Imperial Messenger’ was not present. He had never been told so to his face, but the authenticity of his credentials was being discretely questioned. Instead, he was being diverted and distracted from the critical events while the situation was resolved. The first step in that resolution had already been taken. Eight nights earlier, Zhanlue Guwen’s daughter, a lady with an equally unpronounceable name who had been dubbed ‘Suchun’ in honor of her great beauty, had used her less-obvious talents to enter the “Imperial Messenger’s” tent and search it thoroughly. In the process, she had found the golden insignia that was an indicator of his rank and complete untouchability. Under the rule of the Tang that was. In Nanzhao, that writ did not run. Then, immediately after obtaining a wax impression of the insignia, she had vanished.
It was six days ride for an official courier from Anshun to reach the imperial capital at Luoyang. Suchun had managed it in four. Even more remarkably, she had arrived back after an equally fast ride and gone straight into a meeting with her father and King Shunhuazhen. The present conference was a direct result of that meeting. Like every conference, the results had been decided before the meeting convened.
The Pavilion was effectively a large tent with the walls formed by large cloth panels with a variety of decorations including Tang and Nanzhao insignia and quotes from the great classical masters extolling the virtues of peaceful, harmonious co-existence and solving issues through negotiations and discussion. The walls were fluttering gently in the wind and directing a gentle, cooling breeze into the rooms inside. Roof panels provided shade while inside nets kept all but the smallest insects outside. It made for a comfortable environment to pass the time by discussing minor accommodations while the participants awaited the arrival of the Imperial cavalry. King Shunhuazen sat at the head of the table with Zhanlue Guwen at his right hand. Facing him was Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie and the commander of the Fubing. Ranged out on either side were ranks of secretaries who were taking a detailed description of the meeting and any resulting agreements.
"So, we are agreed that Nanzhao will withdraw portions of its forces from the border to either their barracks town or to encampments at least 20 miles from the border, whichever is the nearer until the forces on both sides of the border are equal in numbers." King Shunhuazhen read from the agreement and turned slightly towards Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie
The Chinese District Governor picked up the slight gesture and took over reading the agreement. "Once the point of balance is reached, each party shall simultaneously detach one unit of equal size from its forces and return them in the manner described earlier. This process shall continue until the forces deployed here shall be reduced to a single regiment on each side, tasked with guarding the border. We are agreed that our next task is to arrange a means by which such unfortunate misunderstandings will not occur again.
Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie hesitated then continued. "Your Majesty, may I request that I give priority to the Fubing regiments when the time comes for those units to return? They are brave fighters but they are needed on their farms. Growing rice is more important than parading on the border."
"It is indeed. Your request is granted. Perhaps you could extend the same consideration to our light cavalry units? The women in their ranks need to get back to their families." There were not many women in the Nanzhao light cavalry regiments and none at all in the heavy cavalry and infantry yet there were just enough cavalry women to cause shock waves in the intensely conservative Tang hierarchy.
"We understand completely Your Majesty and we are also pleased to grant your request." The exchange had been pre-scripted of course. Only fools entered a public conference like this without everything being pre-agreed and pre-scripted. That being the case, it was also pre-arranged that a messenger would arrive bearing an expected message from one of the light cavalry patrols. Now was it unexpected that the messenger was one of the light cavalry women? She was another member of Zhanlue Guwen’s strange entourage, a short, stocky woman whose competence with seemingly every weapon that had ever been invented had gained her the Nanzhao name of Zhanshi. As with the other members of Zhanlue's party, her real name was completely unpronounceable to Chinese and Nanzhao alike. It wasn't a lack of skill in languages, it was simply that many of the needed guttural and explosive sounds did not exist in Chinese or Nanzhao.
She dropped to one knee before the Royal dais at one end of the chamber. "Majesty, a message from the Seventh Patrol watching the main highway from Luoyang. A small force of Imperial cavalry has arrived on the border and is being escorted into Your Presence. Their leader bears important messages."
King Shunhuazhen was hardly surprised since this had also been pre-arranged and Suchun had brought an advance copy of the documents carried by the Imperial Cavalry commander for him. In the spirit of negotiating openly and in good faith, another copy had been shown to Fu Jun-jie who had been outraged at the contents. At first.
Shunhuazhen gave a nod of thanks to the messenger and turned to his guests. "Since the Imperial Cavalry bears messages for us, perhaps we should enjoy our mid-day rice while we await their arrival?"
That was another proposal, pre-scripted and thoroughly approved by those present at the conference. Servants brought in bowls of pork and chicken stewed with vegetables and, of course, other bowls of the finest quality snow-white rice. A convivial lunch was had by all with observers remarking on how the dark suspicion and tangible tension of the early days had dissipated and been replaced by the current warmth and comradely understanding. Both Tang and Nanzhao officials remarked on how honest negotiations and fair dealing on both sides could resolve even the thorniest of problems. Some of them even managed to say so without choking on their food.
Outside, the appearance of nine members of the Imperial Cavalry and four of the Nanzhao Wind Regiment of light cavalry caused a degree of interest amongst people loitering outside the Royal Pavilion. Originally gathered in the hope of seeing some important people, they were shocked to see the leader of the Imperial Cavalry hold up a golden disk and be immediately allowed into the Pavilion. Both groups of cavalrymen, now dismounted, of course, followed him. The onlookers, most of them, started to discuss this event with the general theme of 'what does it all mean?' It was widely known that the conference had gone well, and the crisis was over without a drop of blood being shed. So why was this happening? A few men knew at least a part of what had just happened and they slipped away to carry the news to the alleged 'Imperial Messenger'.
Inside the Pavilion, the group of cavalrymen stopped and dropped to one knee in honor of the rank of those they faced. All but one man took off his helmet and cloak before striding to the raised dais on which the King and his guests sat. He held up a golden disk, like the one presented by the earlier 'Imperial Messenger' but larger and more ornate. Those actions showed him to be a man of fearsome countenance and one used to wielding much power. "I am The Imperial Censor, Wan Jing-guo. Hear my words and tremblingly obey! Who is Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie? And why did he take it upon himself to try and start a war with our neighbors in Nanzhao?"
Despite the widespread belief that Wan Jing-guo's gaze could cause anybody he focused it on to spontaneously burst into flames, Fu Jun-jie was relieved at being singled out. The fact that his rank of Zhuhuo had been used to address him meant that he still held that rank. He rose to his feet, then knelt and banged his head on the floor. "Most noble and illustrious servant of the August throne, I am Fu Jun-jie, Governor of Anshun District. I moved 12,000 Fubing militia to the border here in response to orders from the August Throne as conveyed by an Imperial Messenger. Those orders advised us that we would be reinforced by an equal number of Imperial regulars but the only reinforcements we have received are 2,000 Provincial regulars."
"That is hardly surprising. No transfers of Imperial troops have been ordered by the August Throne and the Imperial Regiments remain in their barracks. The Imperial Messenger who brought you these instructions. How did you identify him?"
"By his gold insignia of course."
"This one?" Wan Jing-guo held out the wax impression Shuchun had brought him.
"That is so. It appeared genuine."
"It is. Only it is the disk belonging to an Imperial tax assessor who disappeared three weeks ago. We are certain he was ambushed and killed. Now we know why. That brings us to the second issue that is of concern to the August Throne. You, a mere district governor have taken it upon yourself to negotiate with a neighboring head of state?"
"Most noble and illustrious servant of the August throne, the Kingdom of Nanzhao moved with great speed in response to the troops assembling on the border and soon their forces exceeded ours. Also, they have a balanced force with heavy and light cavalry supporting their infantry. This was a dangerous situation that could result in conflict at any time. We had no real orders to work from and always present in my mind were the masterful words of our great scholar K’ung Fu-tzu, To lead uninstructed people to war is to throw them away. We here had a brief window that would serve to both contain this problem within a single district and resolve it without the shedding of blood. So, I negotiated, always bearing in mind the august words of the great General Sun-Tzu. No leader should put troops into the field merely to gratify his spleen; no leader should fight a battle simply out of pique. But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life. Hence the enlightened leader is heedful, and the good leader is full of caution. His Majesty, the King of Nanzhao, and this humble servant of the August Throne have reached an agreement."
"I wish to see that." Wan Jing-guo didn't stretch out a hand for the scroll for his words were a demand and a very abrupt order. A secretary hurried to place his copy of the scroll, the one that would have been sent to the August Throne, in the Censor's hand. As he did so, he felt the cold breath of an executioner's ax on the back of his neck. He watched as the Censor read the document carefully. "This is a well-constructed and reasonable agreement. The August Throne is pleased to approve it."
He took an additional copy of the treaty scroll and handed it to King Shunhuazhen who read it carefully and nodded. Then, the Imperial Censor took out an official seal and stamped three of the prepared copies. Once one went to the King, one went to Fu Jun-jie and one would stay with the Censor for the Imperial files. Finally, he addressed the meeting. "The treaty negotiated here has been approved by the August Throne. Our Auspicious general Sun-Tzu tells us that It is a common mistake in going to war to begin at the wrong end, to act first, and wait for disasters to discuss the matter. The wisdom of Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie in avoiding this error has saved the Empire from disaster. For his wisdom, he is raised one rank in the Civil Service."
Private Chamber, Royal Pavilion, Naliangcun Valley, Nanzhao.
"That went well." Imperial Censor Wan Jing-guo was, for a man with near-ultimate power and no reservations about using it, a genial guest. "Now will somebody please tell me what has been happening here? This tea is splendid by the way. A splendid smoky yet not overpowering flavor supplemented with a gentle hint of autumn flowers. It is made by taking powder from a cake and whisking it with water?"
King Shunhuazhen put down his teacup. "The tea cake is known as ‘Hairy Tiptop’ and is my personal favorite. It is indeed made by grating powder from a compressed cake. Similar cakes, of a lesser rank, of course, are issued to all our troops. Zhanlue Guwen, can you cast any light on this strange affair?"
Zhanlue Guwen looked thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Let us start at the beginning. The first act was the arrival of an imposter Imperial Messenger bearing orders for the Governor of Anshun District to deploy troops to the border with Nanzhao. He stated that Imperial troops were arriving soon, but they never materialized and a handful of Provincial troops appeared in their place. The force on the border was quickly spotted by our border patrols and a warning that an invasion force was gathering was received in Dali. This caused us to mobilize the Army and confront the alleged invasion force. Shortly thereafter Machulo crossed our south-eastern border and advanced upon Chiang Saen, obviously believing it to be defenseless. Now this tells us a lot. One is that the plan, of which we can presently see only a part, has been in preparation for a long time and that it originated in China.”
“How can we be sure of that?” Wan Jing-guo sounded more curious than disagreeable. Zhanlue Guwen noted that and guessed that he had already come to the same conclusion.
“The fact that an Imperial Messenger, from the tax office no less, was killed and his insignia taken some weeks ago point to a prolonged degree of planning. The degree of secrecy with which the Imperial Messenger system works suggests that the plotters had significant knowledge of that system which we in Nanzhao do not. For said Imperial Messenger to be ambushed, his route had to be known. Thus, all the consequential actions that have taken place appear to be Chinese in origin. They reflect detailed knowledge of how the administrative system run by the Illustrious Tang operates, and more importantly, how its safeguards can be evaded.”
“Could not the impetus for these actions have come from Nanzhao and the actions in China merely the product of persons treacherous to the Illustrious Tang?”
“They could indeed and our first thoughts followed that line of belief.” Zhanlue Guwen hesitated for a moment and caught King Shunhuazhen’s eye. The King gave a small nod, authorizing him to disclose more details of the events in Chiang Saen. Zhanlue Guwen did not, for one moment, believe that Wan Jing-guo had failed to notice the subtle exchange. “The Machulo invasion would be the second part of the plot. It could be those treasonous elements in Nanzhao had decided to make use of the Chinese presence but, as we have learned more, too much did not add up for that to be the case. If the Illustrious Tang had decided for some reason to move their troops to the border, we would have seen a large force of Imperial troops supported by the Fubai militia. As soon as we saw there were only Chengdu Provincial forces were here, and in only small numbers, it became our belief that whatever was happening was taking place without the Illustrious Tang’s knowledge. The small group of people in Nanzhao, who were also indulging in treason, were far too unimportant to be able to manage that. Where was the body of the Imperial Messenger found?”
"In Chengdu, by accident. A farmer was preparing a field for next year's harvest and unearthed the body. The Gods smiled upon us that day, the land had been disused but the farmer had bought it only a few days before." Wan Jing-guo smiled to himself at the thought of an industrious farmer immediately setting to work, improving his newly-acquired land and planting his first crop on it.
"Chengdu again. Perhaps it might be reasonable to guess the center of this conspiracy lies there?" Zhanlue Guwen was beginning to have a shrewd idea of what that plot was.
“So what was the end of this elaborate plan? What did the plotters hope to gain by promoting a battle they could not hope to win?”
“That is a good question. Perhaps losing this battle was the objective.” Zhanlue Guwen hesitated, again and again, and received a slight nod of approval to continue from King Shunhuazhen. “Being told an invasion force was gathering, we moved troops in numbers sufficient to provide an adequate defense. However, forces adequate to defend against an invasion by Imperial forces of the Illustrious Tang are also capable of an overwhelming offensive against the forces we met. Had a battle started, the Fubing Militia and their paltry support of Provincial troops would have been severely defeated. That defeat on its own would have created great unease amongst the people and forced the Illustrious Tang to counter-attack with equally overwhelming force. The resulting war would have been long and bitter and created great suffering. Both our nations would have been gravely weakened. For a common enemy, that would have been a valuable outcome.”
“But how does Machulo’s attack on Chiang Saen fit into this picture?” Prince Kulap was standing behind and to the right of King Shunhuazhen, a position of great honor and absolute trust. Zhanlue Guwen guessed that he was trying to determine whether the battle fought by Princess Suriyothai was more than just heroic, was it also of great strategic value?
“Perhaps it was simply opportunism.” Wan Jing-guo was a great believer in the principle of simplicity. “One of the traitors was employed to bring the message of our troops on our border to your court saw a means by which he might exploit the apparent crisis for his ends. Those might have been as simple as a share of the loot. He advised Machulo of the situation and the apparent defenselessness of Chiang Saen in exchange for a promised share. Which he stood almost no chance of getting by the way."
There was a polite but unmistakable swell of appreciative laughter around the room. Everybody present knew of Prince Machulo and his irresistible urge to break every agreement he saw. Wan Jing-guo raised his teacup in acknowledgment of the compliment. Everybody present appreciated that this was turning out to be a surprisingly affable meeting.
"There is another possibility. Viewed from our perspective, had Chiang Saen fallen and been sacked with Machulo's customary brutality, it would have been seen as a part of the threatened invasion. We would have been enraged and the resulting war would have been brutal and bitter." King Shunhuazhen sounded deeply saddened. "Zhanlue Guwen, your thoughts?"
"Your Majesty, you are quite correct. I believe this was a backup plan in case the primary attempt to provoke a battle and then a bloody war failed."
His further thoughts were interrupted when Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts burst into the room. "Your Majesty, I beg pardon for this interruption but I have dire news. The Chengdu Provincial Regiments are moving to attack this meeting."
Conference Chamber, Royal Pavilion, Naliangcun Valley, Nanzhao. Nine Days Later
By protocol, under Nanzhao’s definitions of protocol anyway, the pavilion was a palace. The King was in residence so that was that. Anywhere, even his field tent, where King Shunhuazhen slept was a palace. The fact that Fu Jun-jie, a mere Zhuhou or district governor, was visiting the palace to negotiate with the King was a mark of personal respect to him but, in a wider sense, recognition of the allegedly overwhelming power of Tang China. The fact that Nanzhao had defeated Tang China in two wars over the same number of decades was being diplomatically not mentioned.
Another factor that was diplomatically not mentioned was that the alleged ‘Imperial Messenger’ was not present. He had never been told so to his face, but the authenticity of his credentials was being discretely questioned. Instead, he was being diverted and distracted from the critical events while the situation was resolved. The first step in that resolution had already been taken. Eight nights earlier, Zhanlue Guwen’s daughter, a lady with an equally unpronounceable name who had been dubbed ‘Suchun’ in honor of her great beauty, had used her less-obvious talents to enter the “Imperial Messenger’s” tent and search it thoroughly. In the process, she had found the golden insignia that was an indicator of his rank and complete untouchability. Under the rule of the Tang that was. In Nanzhao, that writ did not run. Then, immediately after obtaining a wax impression of the insignia, she had vanished.
It was six days ride for an official courier from Anshun to reach the imperial capital at Luoyang. Suchun had managed it in four. Even more remarkably, she had arrived back after an equally fast ride and gone straight into a meeting with her father and King Shunhuazhen. The present conference was a direct result of that meeting. Like every conference, the results had been decided before the meeting convened.
The Pavilion was effectively a large tent with the walls formed by large cloth panels with a variety of decorations including Tang and Nanzhao insignia and quotes from the great classical masters extolling the virtues of peaceful, harmonious co-existence and solving issues through negotiations and discussion. The walls were fluttering gently in the wind and directing a gentle, cooling breeze into the rooms inside. Roof panels provided shade while inside nets kept all but the smallest insects outside. It made for a comfortable environment to pass the time by discussing minor accommodations while the participants awaited the arrival of the Imperial cavalry. King Shunhuazen sat at the head of the table with Zhanlue Guwen at his right hand. Facing him was Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie and the commander of the Fubing. Ranged out on either side were ranks of secretaries who were taking a detailed description of the meeting and any resulting agreements.
"So, we are agreed that Nanzhao will withdraw portions of its forces from the border to either their barracks town or to encampments at least 20 miles from the border, whichever is the nearer until the forces on both sides of the border are equal in numbers." King Shunhuazhen read from the agreement and turned slightly towards Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie
The Chinese District Governor picked up the slight gesture and took over reading the agreement. "Once the point of balance is reached, each party shall simultaneously detach one unit of equal size from its forces and return them in the manner described earlier. This process shall continue until the forces deployed here shall be reduced to a single regiment on each side, tasked with guarding the border. We are agreed that our next task is to arrange a means by which such unfortunate misunderstandings will not occur again.
Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie hesitated then continued. "Your Majesty, may I request that I give priority to the Fubing regiments when the time comes for those units to return? They are brave fighters but they are needed on their farms. Growing rice is more important than parading on the border."
"It is indeed. Your request is granted. Perhaps you could extend the same consideration to our light cavalry units? The women in their ranks need to get back to their families." There were not many women in the Nanzhao light cavalry regiments and none at all in the heavy cavalry and infantry yet there were just enough cavalry women to cause shock waves in the intensely conservative Tang hierarchy.
"We understand completely Your Majesty and we are also pleased to grant your request." The exchange had been pre-scripted of course. Only fools entered a public conference like this without everything being pre-agreed and pre-scripted. That being the case, it was also pre-arranged that a messenger would arrive bearing an expected message from one of the light cavalry patrols. Now was it unexpected that the messenger was one of the light cavalry women? She was another member of Zhanlue Guwen’s strange entourage, a short, stocky woman whose competence with seemingly every weapon that had ever been invented had gained her the Nanzhao name of Zhanshi. As with the other members of Zhanlue's party, her real name was completely unpronounceable to Chinese and Nanzhao alike. It wasn't a lack of skill in languages, it was simply that many of the needed guttural and explosive sounds did not exist in Chinese or Nanzhao.
She dropped to one knee before the Royal dais at one end of the chamber. "Majesty, a message from the Seventh Patrol watching the main highway from Luoyang. A small force of Imperial cavalry has arrived on the border and is being escorted into Your Presence. Their leader bears important messages."
King Shunhuazhen was hardly surprised since this had also been pre-arranged and Suchun had brought an advance copy of the documents carried by the Imperial Cavalry commander for him. In the spirit of negotiating openly and in good faith, another copy had been shown to Fu Jun-jie who had been outraged at the contents. At first.
Shunhuazhen gave a nod of thanks to the messenger and turned to his guests. "Since the Imperial Cavalry bears messages for us, perhaps we should enjoy our mid-day rice while we await their arrival?"
That was another proposal, pre-scripted and thoroughly approved by those present at the conference. Servants brought in bowls of pork and chicken stewed with vegetables and, of course, other bowls of the finest quality snow-white rice. A convivial lunch was had by all with observers remarking on how the dark suspicion and tangible tension of the early days had dissipated and been replaced by the current warmth and comradely understanding. Both Tang and Nanzhao officials remarked on how honest negotiations and fair dealing on both sides could resolve even the thorniest of problems. Some of them even managed to say so without choking on their food.
Outside, the appearance of nine members of the Imperial Cavalry and four of the Nanzhao Wind Regiment of light cavalry caused a degree of interest amongst people loitering outside the Royal Pavilion. Originally gathered in the hope of seeing some important people, they were shocked to see the leader of the Imperial Cavalry hold up a golden disk and be immediately allowed into the Pavilion. Both groups of cavalrymen, now dismounted, of course, followed him. The onlookers, most of them, started to discuss this event with the general theme of 'what does it all mean?' It was widely known that the conference had gone well, and the crisis was over without a drop of blood being shed. So why was this happening? A few men knew at least a part of what had just happened and they slipped away to carry the news to the alleged 'Imperial Messenger'.
Inside the Pavilion, the group of cavalrymen stopped and dropped to one knee in honor of the rank of those they faced. All but one man took off his helmet and cloak before striding to the raised dais on which the King and his guests sat. He held up a golden disk, like the one presented by the earlier 'Imperial Messenger' but larger and more ornate. Those actions showed him to be a man of fearsome countenance and one used to wielding much power. "I am The Imperial Censor, Wan Jing-guo. Hear my words and tremblingly obey! Who is Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie? And why did he take it upon himself to try and start a war with our neighbors in Nanzhao?"
Despite the widespread belief that Wan Jing-guo's gaze could cause anybody he focused it on to spontaneously burst into flames, Fu Jun-jie was relieved at being singled out. The fact that his rank of Zhuhuo had been used to address him meant that he still held that rank. He rose to his feet, then knelt and banged his head on the floor. "Most noble and illustrious servant of the August throne, I am Fu Jun-jie, Governor of Anshun District. I moved 12,000 Fubing militia to the border here in response to orders from the August Throne as conveyed by an Imperial Messenger. Those orders advised us that we would be reinforced by an equal number of Imperial regulars but the only reinforcements we have received are 2,000 Provincial regulars."
"That is hardly surprising. No transfers of Imperial troops have been ordered by the August Throne and the Imperial Regiments remain in their barracks. The Imperial Messenger who brought you these instructions. How did you identify him?"
"By his gold insignia of course."
"This one?" Wan Jing-guo held out the wax impression Shuchun had brought him.
"That is so. It appeared genuine."
"It is. Only it is the disk belonging to an Imperial tax assessor who disappeared three weeks ago. We are certain he was ambushed and killed. Now we know why. That brings us to the second issue that is of concern to the August Throne. You, a mere district governor have taken it upon yourself to negotiate with a neighboring head of state?"
"Most noble and illustrious servant of the August throne, the Kingdom of Nanzhao moved with great speed in response to the troops assembling on the border and soon their forces exceeded ours. Also, they have a balanced force with heavy and light cavalry supporting their infantry. This was a dangerous situation that could result in conflict at any time. We had no real orders to work from and always present in my mind were the masterful words of our great scholar K’ung Fu-tzu, To lead uninstructed people to war is to throw them away. We here had a brief window that would serve to both contain this problem within a single district and resolve it without the shedding of blood. So, I negotiated, always bearing in mind the august words of the great General Sun-Tzu. No leader should put troops into the field merely to gratify his spleen; no leader should fight a battle simply out of pique. But a kingdom that has once been destroyed can never come again into being; nor can the dead ever be brought back to life. Hence the enlightened leader is heedful, and the good leader is full of caution. His Majesty, the King of Nanzhao, and this humble servant of the August Throne have reached an agreement."
"I wish to see that." Wan Jing-guo didn't stretch out a hand for the scroll for his words were a demand and a very abrupt order. A secretary hurried to place his copy of the scroll, the one that would have been sent to the August Throne, in the Censor's hand. As he did so, he felt the cold breath of an executioner's ax on the back of his neck. He watched as the Censor read the document carefully. "This is a well-constructed and reasonable agreement. The August Throne is pleased to approve it."
He took an additional copy of the treaty scroll and handed it to King Shunhuazhen who read it carefully and nodded. Then, the Imperial Censor took out an official seal and stamped three of the prepared copies. Once one went to the King, one went to Fu Jun-jie and one would stay with the Censor for the Imperial files. Finally, he addressed the meeting. "The treaty negotiated here has been approved by the August Throne. Our Auspicious general Sun-Tzu tells us that It is a common mistake in going to war to begin at the wrong end, to act first, and wait for disasters to discuss the matter. The wisdom of Zhuhou Fu Jun-jie in avoiding this error has saved the Empire from disaster. For his wisdom, he is raised one rank in the Civil Service."
Private Chamber, Royal Pavilion, Naliangcun Valley, Nanzhao.
"That went well." Imperial Censor Wan Jing-guo was, for a man with near-ultimate power and no reservations about using it, a genial guest. "Now will somebody please tell me what has been happening here? This tea is splendid by the way. A splendid smoky yet not overpowering flavor supplemented with a gentle hint of autumn flowers. It is made by taking powder from a cake and whisking it with water?"
King Shunhuazhen put down his teacup. "The tea cake is known as ‘Hairy Tiptop’ and is my personal favorite. It is indeed made by grating powder from a compressed cake. Similar cakes, of a lesser rank, of course, are issued to all our troops. Zhanlue Guwen, can you cast any light on this strange affair?"
Zhanlue Guwen looked thoughtfully into the middle distance. “Let us start at the beginning. The first act was the arrival of an imposter Imperial Messenger bearing orders for the Governor of Anshun District to deploy troops to the border with Nanzhao. He stated that Imperial troops were arriving soon, but they never materialized and a handful of Provincial troops appeared in their place. The force on the border was quickly spotted by our border patrols and a warning that an invasion force was gathering was received in Dali. This caused us to mobilize the Army and confront the alleged invasion force. Shortly thereafter Machulo crossed our south-eastern border and advanced upon Chiang Saen, obviously believing it to be defenseless. Now this tells us a lot. One is that the plan, of which we can presently see only a part, has been in preparation for a long time and that it originated in China.”
“How can we be sure of that?” Wan Jing-guo sounded more curious than disagreeable. Zhanlue Guwen noted that and guessed that he had already come to the same conclusion.
“The fact that an Imperial Messenger, from the tax office no less, was killed and his insignia taken some weeks ago point to a prolonged degree of planning. The degree of secrecy with which the Imperial Messenger system works suggests that the plotters had significant knowledge of that system which we in Nanzhao do not. For said Imperial Messenger to be ambushed, his route had to be known. Thus, all the consequential actions that have taken place appear to be Chinese in origin. They reflect detailed knowledge of how the administrative system run by the Illustrious Tang operates, and more importantly, how its safeguards can be evaded.”
“Could not the impetus for these actions have come from Nanzhao and the actions in China merely the product of persons treacherous to the Illustrious Tang?”
“They could indeed and our first thoughts followed that line of belief.” Zhanlue Guwen hesitated for a moment and caught King Shunhuazhen’s eye. The King gave a small nod, authorizing him to disclose more details of the events in Chiang Saen. Zhanlue Guwen did not, for one moment, believe that Wan Jing-guo had failed to notice the subtle exchange. “The Machulo invasion would be the second part of the plot. It could be those treasonous elements in Nanzhao had decided to make use of the Chinese presence but, as we have learned more, too much did not add up for that to be the case. If the Illustrious Tang had decided for some reason to move their troops to the border, we would have seen a large force of Imperial troops supported by the Fubai militia. As soon as we saw there were only Chengdu Provincial forces were here, and in only small numbers, it became our belief that whatever was happening was taking place without the Illustrious Tang’s knowledge. The small group of people in Nanzhao, who were also indulging in treason, were far too unimportant to be able to manage that. Where was the body of the Imperial Messenger found?”
"In Chengdu, by accident. A farmer was preparing a field for next year's harvest and unearthed the body. The Gods smiled upon us that day, the land had been disused but the farmer had bought it only a few days before." Wan Jing-guo smiled to himself at the thought of an industrious farmer immediately setting to work, improving his newly-acquired land and planting his first crop on it.
"Chengdu again. Perhaps it might be reasonable to guess the center of this conspiracy lies there?" Zhanlue Guwen was beginning to have a shrewd idea of what that plot was.
“So what was the end of this elaborate plan? What did the plotters hope to gain by promoting a battle they could not hope to win?”
“That is a good question. Perhaps losing this battle was the objective.” Zhanlue Guwen hesitated, again and again, and received a slight nod of approval to continue from King Shunhuazhen. “Being told an invasion force was gathering, we moved troops in numbers sufficient to provide an adequate defense. However, forces adequate to defend against an invasion by Imperial forces of the Illustrious Tang are also capable of an overwhelming offensive against the forces we met. Had a battle started, the Fubing Militia and their paltry support of Provincial troops would have been severely defeated. That defeat on its own would have created great unease amongst the people and forced the Illustrious Tang to counter-attack with equally overwhelming force. The resulting war would have been long and bitter and created great suffering. Both our nations would have been gravely weakened. For a common enemy, that would have been a valuable outcome.”
“But how does Machulo’s attack on Chiang Saen fit into this picture?” Prince Kulap was standing behind and to the right of King Shunhuazhen, a position of great honor and absolute trust. Zhanlue Guwen guessed that he was trying to determine whether the battle fought by Princess Suriyothai was more than just heroic, was it also of great strategic value?
“Perhaps it was simply opportunism.” Wan Jing-guo was a great believer in the principle of simplicity. “One of the traitors was employed to bring the message of our troops on our border to your court saw a means by which he might exploit the apparent crisis for his ends. Those might have been as simple as a share of the loot. He advised Machulo of the situation and the apparent defenselessness of Chiang Saen in exchange for a promised share. Which he stood almost no chance of getting by the way."
There was a polite but unmistakable swell of appreciative laughter around the room. Everybody present knew of Prince Machulo and his irresistible urge to break every agreement he saw. Wan Jing-guo raised his teacup in acknowledgment of the compliment. Everybody present appreciated that this was turning out to be a surprisingly affable meeting.
"There is another possibility. Viewed from our perspective, had Chiang Saen fallen and been sacked with Machulo's customary brutality, it would have been seen as a part of the threatened invasion. We would have been enraged and the resulting war would have been brutal and bitter." King Shunhuazhen sounded deeply saddened. "Zhanlue Guwen, your thoughts?"
"Your Majesty, you are quite correct. I believe this was a backup plan in case the primary attempt to provoke a battle and then a bloody war failed."
His further thoughts were interrupted when Gaochai Watthanaram na Borom of the Royal Scouts burst into the room. "Your Majesty, I beg pardon for this interruption but I have dire news. The Chengdu Provincial Regiments are moving to attack this meeting."
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Seven
Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
"Five Regiments totaling 2,000 men." Zhanlue Guwen looked at the enemy force that was frantically trying to assemble itself. They had been caught on the march, strung out along the road between their encampment and the Nanzhao headquarters. The Nanzhao heavy cavalry with infantry support appeared to have moved much faster than the Chinese commanders had believed was possible. Their belief was correct and what had happened was their move had been anticipated. The 'impossible move' was simply that the Nanzhao troops were waiting for them. The Chengdu regulars knew their trade well enough to realize they were in a bad place and had already lost the first move of the battle. The wavering in their lines was mute evidence of the impact of that knowledge.
"Two thousand men, Zhanlue Guwen? What has happened to the rest?" King Shunhuazhen was sitting on his horse, studying the prospective battlefield with keen interest. Unbeknownst to the others, he had a private game. When a battle was looming, he tried to spot what it was about this particular battlefield that had made his strategic advisor decide to fight there. By his reckoning, he succeeded about one time in three.
"Deserters, your Majesty. News that they were brought here under false pretenses is spreading and the quicker-witted have already sought other employment opportunities. The ones left here are the inexperienced or the slower and weaker of mind."
The Imperial Censor was glaring at the provincial troops with a ferocity that made Zhanlue Guwen almost believe the legend that his furious gaze was enough to make the enemy troops spontaneously burst into flames. The genial guest at the Royal Palace had vanished and been replaced by the implacable and merciless servant of the Tang Dynasty. "These men are committing treason against the August Throne of the Illustrious Tang. Their lives are forfeit."
"Don’t say that too loudly, Imperial Censor." King Shunhuazhen spoke very softly. "These men are dupes. They may be foolish but they are as much victims as the others who have already died. If they know their death is inevitable, one way or another, they will not surrender and they may take some of our soldiers with them. I would prefer that not to be the case. As for the deserters, you might think of recruiting them for the Imperial troops. As Zhanlue Guwen says, they are the most intelligent and quickest-witted. Such men are not easy to find."
"They have already deserted once. How can they be trusted again? If they are so intelligent and able, should they not be prevented from joining the enemy?"
"If I might, Imperial Censor, might I reply to that?" Zhanlue Guwen had a nostalgic look on his face. "I once fought a war in which the principal enemy commander never trusted his men and would execute them on mere suspicion that they might doubt him. The King for whom I worked was the opposite; he respected his men, trusted them, and took them into his confidence. He listened to their advice and opinions, never lied to them and they knew that while he might say nothing if he did speak, his word was golden. So were his promises. Above all, they realized their lives would never be expended unless all other options had been tried. On the day of the last great battle, my King's army stood and fought with great fortitude. The enemy crumbled the way salt dissolves in water."
In the background, Zhanshi leaned over to Suchun, "of course the elephants also had something to do with it."
"You weren't at Ipsus. Antigonus's Army was crumbling before the elephants hit it. Antigonus was out-generalled certainly and the battlefield mechanics had changed but his men didn’t trust him. They didn’t stand and from there it was only a matter of time before they deserted." Suchun hid her sadness, her husband had been killed at Ipsus and, despite the years that had passed, there was still a special place for him in her heart.
Zhanshi checked the guards placed around the Royal command party. Most kings had foot soldiers as their bodyguards and King Shunhuazhen's palace guard was no exception. This wasn't a palace though, it was a battlefield and here the King's bodyguards were light cavalry commanded by Zhanshi. Some were grouped closely around him, protecting him against arrows with their bodies. Others were spaced out at a distance to prevent hostile soldiers from approaching. The big advantage of this formation was that if the day went badly, the Royal party, screened by the light cavalry could make a rapid exit. An infantry screen didn’t give them the option.
"Why are we not attacking? The enemy forms up and we are losing the opportunity to attack them before they are in position."
"Because, Imperial Censor, it is very bad manners to interrupt your enemy while he is making some catastrophic errors." Zhanlue Guwen continued watching the Chengdu contingent trying to form some sort of defensive line. "Remember the words of the great General Sun-Tzu. Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win. Here we see defeated warriors going to war and everything they do makes their defeat more certain."
Wan Jing-guo's ferocious scowl softened for a moment. "My father was a local magistrate. Sometimes, when somebody was accused before him and was making a disastrous mess of his defense, my father would say 'when in a deep hole, stop digging.'"
King Shunhuazhen laughed out loud. "Good advice, Imperial Censor. I hope you will excuse me if I wish the men down there fail to take it."
Zhanlue Guwen looked down at the colorful scene presented by the three Nanzhao heavy cavalry regiments. Each man had two wooden arcs attached to the back of their saddles and raised over their head. The arcs were decorated with long feathers dyed in various colors honoring their regiments. The Panther Regiment wore sand-colored feathers, the Cobra Regiment dark green and brown with two large black 'eyes', and the Dragon Regiment with gold and red. The variety of colors made the three regiments a strangely beautiful sight to behold.
"I think I have one part of the answer." King Shunhuazhen sounded impressed by the sight of his heavy cavalry deployed across the approach to his headquarters camp. "It is a long gentle slope down to their positions, the ground unbroken and uninterrupted. Perfect for a cavalry charge."
"It is, Your Majesty. Also, it is wide and the enemy has too few soldiers to cover the width. There is nothing for them to anchor their flanks on. They have left the patches of wood on the right and left unheld. Those same woods mask their vision to either side so our troops can use them to hide their advance. The Chengdu should have stationed pickets there but it's too late now, our infantry have caught up and are moving into those woods. The Chengdu troops will be in a crossfire even before our cavalry begin their charge. This is very bad ground for them made worse by it not being obviously so. We left them no choice though, this was the only way they had a reasonable approach to your Majesty's headquarters - which was, of course, why we put your headquarters where it is."
"You were expecting this?"
"Of course. Here we go."
The Nanzhao infantry had finished making their way through the woods and were forming up on their edge. They were in crossbow range of the Chengdu force, something that the enemy infantry had obviously noticed. They were already beginning to shuffle backward, hoping to escape from the inevitable storm of bolts. Zhanlue Guwen pointed at a group of his men waiting near a bamboo tube that was angled steeply upwards. One of the men bent down with a lighted torch, then stepped back very hurriedly. He was just in time, a rocket streaked out of the tube and arched skywards before ending in a series of red starbursts. The sight fascinated Zhanlue Guwen.
It was the signal that the infantry had been waiting for. They unleashed their crossbow bolts in a hail that enveloped both the left and the right flanks of the Chengdu line. The truth was that few men fell in the barrage. The crossbow had been a primary arm of the Chinese Army for over a thousand years and their chain mail and reinforced leather armor had evolved to give reasonable protection against their bolts. Some men took relatively minor wounds in their arms or legs, and a few more were unlucky enough for the bolts to find chinks in their armored protection or to be hit in uncovered areas. Had the Chengdu Regiments been steady to start with, their mild losses would have been dismissed as the cost of doing business but they were not steady. Instead, with their natural leaders deserting and their officers lacking any confidence, the significance of the scattered arrow wounds was exaggerated. While the center of the Chengdu line held, the flanks nearest the crossbowmen started to fall back, turning the straight line into a U-shape whose depth slowly but surely increased.
Zhanlue Guwen raised his hand again and a second rocket soared skywards. The Dragon Regiment started to move forward at a slow walk, the armor protecting the horses swinging slowly with the movement. It largely hid the horse's legs, giving a strange impression that they were gliding just above the ground. As soon as they had moved twenty paces from their start position, the Panther and Cobra Regiments also started to move forward, formatting on the Dragon Regiment so the three formed a V-arrowhead with the Dragons at the center. Inside the V, horse-mounted drummers had started a slow, measured beating. The thump, thump, thump-thump-thump helped to keep the horses synchronized but also was an ominous, threatening background to the slowly-moving heavy cavalry horses. To those who listened carefully, there was also a very faint rustling noise from the feathers mounted behind the cavalrymen.
It was a myth that a cavalry charge was a full-blooded gallop right from the start. Heavy cavalry in particular carried too much armor for that and their horses would be exhausted quickly. So, the three Nanzhao cavalry regiments did not break into a trot until they were more than halfway down the slope. Then the drums picked up their beat and the rustling from the feathers increased so that it was audible across the battlefield. Almost unnoticed by the Chengdu infantry regiments who were fixated on the sight of the approaching horses, the Nanzhao infantry on their flanks had resumed their advance and were already closing in on the Chengdu flanks and rear.
The cavalry were less than a hundred paces from the already-disintegrating Chengdu line when they finally broke into a full gallop. Yet each rider kept his mount firmly in hand and thus responsive to any changes in the enemy dispositions. The tight control also gave the riders time to swing their lances down from vertical to horizontal and their horses had time to accelerate to full speed. The charge was urged on by the thundering of the drums. It also gave Chengdu time to realize what was about to happen. Most of them threw down their weapons and ran. A few stood their ground and so lost their lives for nothing. The lightweight bamboo spears carried by the cavalry shattered on hitting an armored infantryman but the force of the impact was enough to throw their victims to the grounds. Then they were killed by the men following behind.
It was an old story to the experienced Nanzhao cavalrymen. Stories of cavalry crashing into an enemy line were written by those who had never been on a battlefield. In reality, either the line broke and the cavalry pursued their fleeing enemy or the line held and the charge broke away before it reached their enemy. Wise cavalrymen were ready to abort their charge at any time and well-trained cavalry horses knew well to obey the break-off order instantly.
It was only when the Chengdu soldiers broke and ran that they realized the deadly trap they were in. The Nanzhao infantry had cut off their retreat leaving only a narrow funnel for the men to crowd into while their enemies on the sides of the funnel hacked at them with spears and swords. A regiment of light cavalry was waiting beyond to finish off anybody who tried to escape from that funnel. As Zhanlue Guwen watched, the men trapped in the tunnel between the two regiments stopped and threw down their weapons. Behind them, the cavalry slowed and stopped their charge before they plowed into the ranks of now-defenseless men. They watched, sword and ax in hand, as the Rock and Stone infantry regiments moved forward to take the surviving Chengdu soldiers, prisoner. What had seemed to be an inevitable battle had faded away as quickly as the morning mist,
"Well done, Zhanlue Guwen. A bloodless victory."
"Finest kind, Your Majesty. There are times and places for massacres but this wasn't one of them. Imperial Censor, do you want any of these men back?"
Wan Jing-guo started at the unexpected question. "No, Zhanlue Guwen. If we took them back we would be obliged to execute them. Instead, I leave their fate in the hands of your King."
"Do we need these men, Zhanlue Guwen?"
"We have roads that need building, city walls to strengthen, temples to build, and crops to grow. The harder these men work and the greater their skill, the sooner they will earn their freedom."
King Shunhuazhen smiled with pleasure at the prospect of an enlarged workforce improving his Kingdom. "As you have spoken, so shall it be. Imperial Censor, if the families of these men wish to join them, may I respectfully beg that the August Throne allows them to do so?"
Wan Jing-guo nodded briefly. "I think that would be entirely possible. My business here is finished and I will be leaving for Chengdu within the hour. Before I leave, could I trouble Your Majesty for another cup of your excellent tea?"
Audience Room, Royal Palace, Dili, Nanzhao.
"The greatest achievement of all was, of course, that not a single one of our soldiers lost his life and we killed only a handful of the enemy." King Shunhuazhen looked around his gathered courtiers. He had just finished reviewing the prisoners who had been paraded for the purpose. They had been miserable at the prospect of slavery but had recognized that it was better than being dead. Usually. Then the King had told them that they would be part of a new army corps of engineers and receive a small but regular payment for their work. They had also been told that it had been agreed married men would be joined by their wives and children. Finally, he had advised them that if they worked hard for a set period, they would be set free and welcomed to remain in Nanzhao where hard and skilled workers were both respected and given an opportunity to prosper. By the time King Shunhuazhen had finished speaking to them, the prisoners were much happier at their prospects.
Now, the King realized that the work given to those men had to be decided. He looked around his assembled courtiers, noting the expressions on their faces. "Now we have another issue to address. The attack by the Prince of Machulo on Chiang Saen. A great disaster was only averted by the heroism of the women of the town who held the pass long enough for a relief force to arrive. Their courage and self-sacrifice deserve to be remembered. I decree that a commemorative column be erected at the top of the Habu Pass, bearing the names of those who fought there headed by those who lost their lives. A pension shall be granted to their families in compensation for the loss of a valued daughter and the note "well-deserved of the state" shall be entered in their family records."
There was a surge of applause at the generous recognition. Behind the King, two of his bodyguards lifted signs that said "Be Silent!" and "Be Serious!". The room quieted quickly in response but the atmosphere of approval remained. Once again, the King scanned those present and noted the expressions on their faces. With a little amusement, he noted that Zhanlue Guwen and Suchun were doing the same. He decided it would be wise to set time aside for the three of them to compare their conclusions.
"Princess Suriyothai? Approach the throne."
Suriyothai stepped forward, holding her breath. This was the first time she had been in the Royal Presence without her husband by her side to guide her. For a moment she envied her Chinese equivalents who lived in seclusion and were never seen by men other than their husband and his oldest, most trusted retainers. She had always pitied such women and rejoiced in the comparative freedom that Nanzhao women enjoyed. In Nanzhao, women were free to live, move and work as they wished, subject to the agreement of their husbands of course. An unmarried woman had unprecedented freedom by Chinese standards. So much so that the T'ai had a saying "women and cats do what they want and men and dogs have to learn to live with it." She carefully suppressed the smile that thought threatened. Then she forced herself to breathe steadily and tried to clear her head of the paralyzing fear that she might be doing something wrong.
"Princess Suriyothai, we are much impressed by your battle in the Habu Pass although it grieves us that so many of our young women died there. In honor of them, and respect for your bravery, you are promoted to Princess of the Second Rank. Your husband is not here to join us?"
"Most gracious majesty, we make it a practice that on no account should both of us be absent from our city at the same time. My Prince is at Chiang Saen, I left only when he arrived."
"Very sound practice, Princess. You are indeed worthy of the rank bestowed upon you. It is customary to grant a Princess newly raised in rank the right to present petitions to this Throne. Do you have such petitions? For a new palace perhaps or for ornamental gardens to relax in?"
Suriyothai shook her head. She had been warned that this was coming and had considered her answer very carefully. "With the utmost respect for His Most Gracious Majesty, may I ask that your Royal Surveyors come to Chiang Saen and inspect our city walls. Their expertise in improving fortifications is famous and their advice would be of great value. If your Majesty's favor extends further, may I ask that we build roads around Chiang Saen? This would allow us to move troops more quickly and the improved trade roads would bring would improve the prosperity of my people."
"A Princess who thinks first of her people is an example to us all. We will send a Royal Surveyor and his assistants soon. We are minded to building new roads between our cities for the reasons you suggest. The first will join Dali and Chiang Saen and will be built by our new corps of engineers. When that road reaches Chiang Saen, the engineers will build your additional roads."
Naliangcun Valley, Anshun, China
"Five Regiments totaling 2,000 men." Zhanlue Guwen looked at the enemy force that was frantically trying to assemble itself. They had been caught on the march, strung out along the road between their encampment and the Nanzhao headquarters. The Nanzhao heavy cavalry with infantry support appeared to have moved much faster than the Chinese commanders had believed was possible. Their belief was correct and what had happened was their move had been anticipated. The 'impossible move' was simply that the Nanzhao troops were waiting for them. The Chengdu regulars knew their trade well enough to realize they were in a bad place and had already lost the first move of the battle. The wavering in their lines was mute evidence of the impact of that knowledge.
"Two thousand men, Zhanlue Guwen? What has happened to the rest?" King Shunhuazhen was sitting on his horse, studying the prospective battlefield with keen interest. Unbeknownst to the others, he had a private game. When a battle was looming, he tried to spot what it was about this particular battlefield that had made his strategic advisor decide to fight there. By his reckoning, he succeeded about one time in three.
"Deserters, your Majesty. News that they were brought here under false pretenses is spreading and the quicker-witted have already sought other employment opportunities. The ones left here are the inexperienced or the slower and weaker of mind."
The Imperial Censor was glaring at the provincial troops with a ferocity that made Zhanlue Guwen almost believe the legend that his furious gaze was enough to make the enemy troops spontaneously burst into flames. The genial guest at the Royal Palace had vanished and been replaced by the implacable and merciless servant of the Tang Dynasty. "These men are committing treason against the August Throne of the Illustrious Tang. Their lives are forfeit."
"Don’t say that too loudly, Imperial Censor." King Shunhuazhen spoke very softly. "These men are dupes. They may be foolish but they are as much victims as the others who have already died. If they know their death is inevitable, one way or another, they will not surrender and they may take some of our soldiers with them. I would prefer that not to be the case. As for the deserters, you might think of recruiting them for the Imperial troops. As Zhanlue Guwen says, they are the most intelligent and quickest-witted. Such men are not easy to find."
"They have already deserted once. How can they be trusted again? If they are so intelligent and able, should they not be prevented from joining the enemy?"
"If I might, Imperial Censor, might I reply to that?" Zhanlue Guwen had a nostalgic look on his face. "I once fought a war in which the principal enemy commander never trusted his men and would execute them on mere suspicion that they might doubt him. The King for whom I worked was the opposite; he respected his men, trusted them, and took them into his confidence. He listened to their advice and opinions, never lied to them and they knew that while he might say nothing if he did speak, his word was golden. So were his promises. Above all, they realized their lives would never be expended unless all other options had been tried. On the day of the last great battle, my King's army stood and fought with great fortitude. The enemy crumbled the way salt dissolves in water."
In the background, Zhanshi leaned over to Suchun, "of course the elephants also had something to do with it."
"You weren't at Ipsus. Antigonus's Army was crumbling before the elephants hit it. Antigonus was out-generalled certainly and the battlefield mechanics had changed but his men didn’t trust him. They didn’t stand and from there it was only a matter of time before they deserted." Suchun hid her sadness, her husband had been killed at Ipsus and, despite the years that had passed, there was still a special place for him in her heart.
Zhanshi checked the guards placed around the Royal command party. Most kings had foot soldiers as their bodyguards and King Shunhuazhen's palace guard was no exception. This wasn't a palace though, it was a battlefield and here the King's bodyguards were light cavalry commanded by Zhanshi. Some were grouped closely around him, protecting him against arrows with their bodies. Others were spaced out at a distance to prevent hostile soldiers from approaching. The big advantage of this formation was that if the day went badly, the Royal party, screened by the light cavalry could make a rapid exit. An infantry screen didn’t give them the option.
"Why are we not attacking? The enemy forms up and we are losing the opportunity to attack them before they are in position."
"Because, Imperial Censor, it is very bad manners to interrupt your enemy while he is making some catastrophic errors." Zhanlue Guwen continued watching the Chengdu contingent trying to form some sort of defensive line. "Remember the words of the great General Sun-Tzu. Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win. Here we see defeated warriors going to war and everything they do makes their defeat more certain."
Wan Jing-guo's ferocious scowl softened for a moment. "My father was a local magistrate. Sometimes, when somebody was accused before him and was making a disastrous mess of his defense, my father would say 'when in a deep hole, stop digging.'"
King Shunhuazhen laughed out loud. "Good advice, Imperial Censor. I hope you will excuse me if I wish the men down there fail to take it."
Zhanlue Guwen looked down at the colorful scene presented by the three Nanzhao heavy cavalry regiments. Each man had two wooden arcs attached to the back of their saddles and raised over their head. The arcs were decorated with long feathers dyed in various colors honoring their regiments. The Panther Regiment wore sand-colored feathers, the Cobra Regiment dark green and brown with two large black 'eyes', and the Dragon Regiment with gold and red. The variety of colors made the three regiments a strangely beautiful sight to behold.
"I think I have one part of the answer." King Shunhuazhen sounded impressed by the sight of his heavy cavalry deployed across the approach to his headquarters camp. "It is a long gentle slope down to their positions, the ground unbroken and uninterrupted. Perfect for a cavalry charge."
"It is, Your Majesty. Also, it is wide and the enemy has too few soldiers to cover the width. There is nothing for them to anchor their flanks on. They have left the patches of wood on the right and left unheld. Those same woods mask their vision to either side so our troops can use them to hide their advance. The Chengdu should have stationed pickets there but it's too late now, our infantry have caught up and are moving into those woods. The Chengdu troops will be in a crossfire even before our cavalry begin their charge. This is very bad ground for them made worse by it not being obviously so. We left them no choice though, this was the only way they had a reasonable approach to your Majesty's headquarters - which was, of course, why we put your headquarters where it is."
"You were expecting this?"
"Of course. Here we go."
The Nanzhao infantry had finished making their way through the woods and were forming up on their edge. They were in crossbow range of the Chengdu force, something that the enemy infantry had obviously noticed. They were already beginning to shuffle backward, hoping to escape from the inevitable storm of bolts. Zhanlue Guwen pointed at a group of his men waiting near a bamboo tube that was angled steeply upwards. One of the men bent down with a lighted torch, then stepped back very hurriedly. He was just in time, a rocket streaked out of the tube and arched skywards before ending in a series of red starbursts. The sight fascinated Zhanlue Guwen.
It was the signal that the infantry had been waiting for. They unleashed their crossbow bolts in a hail that enveloped both the left and the right flanks of the Chengdu line. The truth was that few men fell in the barrage. The crossbow had been a primary arm of the Chinese Army for over a thousand years and their chain mail and reinforced leather armor had evolved to give reasonable protection against their bolts. Some men took relatively minor wounds in their arms or legs, and a few more were unlucky enough for the bolts to find chinks in their armored protection or to be hit in uncovered areas. Had the Chengdu Regiments been steady to start with, their mild losses would have been dismissed as the cost of doing business but they were not steady. Instead, with their natural leaders deserting and their officers lacking any confidence, the significance of the scattered arrow wounds was exaggerated. While the center of the Chengdu line held, the flanks nearest the crossbowmen started to fall back, turning the straight line into a U-shape whose depth slowly but surely increased.
Zhanlue Guwen raised his hand again and a second rocket soared skywards. The Dragon Regiment started to move forward at a slow walk, the armor protecting the horses swinging slowly with the movement. It largely hid the horse's legs, giving a strange impression that they were gliding just above the ground. As soon as they had moved twenty paces from their start position, the Panther and Cobra Regiments also started to move forward, formatting on the Dragon Regiment so the three formed a V-arrowhead with the Dragons at the center. Inside the V, horse-mounted drummers had started a slow, measured beating. The thump, thump, thump-thump-thump helped to keep the horses synchronized but also was an ominous, threatening background to the slowly-moving heavy cavalry horses. To those who listened carefully, there was also a very faint rustling noise from the feathers mounted behind the cavalrymen.
It was a myth that a cavalry charge was a full-blooded gallop right from the start. Heavy cavalry in particular carried too much armor for that and their horses would be exhausted quickly. So, the three Nanzhao cavalry regiments did not break into a trot until they were more than halfway down the slope. Then the drums picked up their beat and the rustling from the feathers increased so that it was audible across the battlefield. Almost unnoticed by the Chengdu infantry regiments who were fixated on the sight of the approaching horses, the Nanzhao infantry on their flanks had resumed their advance and were already closing in on the Chengdu flanks and rear.
The cavalry were less than a hundred paces from the already-disintegrating Chengdu line when they finally broke into a full gallop. Yet each rider kept his mount firmly in hand and thus responsive to any changes in the enemy dispositions. The tight control also gave the riders time to swing their lances down from vertical to horizontal and their horses had time to accelerate to full speed. The charge was urged on by the thundering of the drums. It also gave Chengdu time to realize what was about to happen. Most of them threw down their weapons and ran. A few stood their ground and so lost their lives for nothing. The lightweight bamboo spears carried by the cavalry shattered on hitting an armored infantryman but the force of the impact was enough to throw their victims to the grounds. Then they were killed by the men following behind.
It was an old story to the experienced Nanzhao cavalrymen. Stories of cavalry crashing into an enemy line were written by those who had never been on a battlefield. In reality, either the line broke and the cavalry pursued their fleeing enemy or the line held and the charge broke away before it reached their enemy. Wise cavalrymen were ready to abort their charge at any time and well-trained cavalry horses knew well to obey the break-off order instantly.
It was only when the Chengdu soldiers broke and ran that they realized the deadly trap they were in. The Nanzhao infantry had cut off their retreat leaving only a narrow funnel for the men to crowd into while their enemies on the sides of the funnel hacked at them with spears and swords. A regiment of light cavalry was waiting beyond to finish off anybody who tried to escape from that funnel. As Zhanlue Guwen watched, the men trapped in the tunnel between the two regiments stopped and threw down their weapons. Behind them, the cavalry slowed and stopped their charge before they plowed into the ranks of now-defenseless men. They watched, sword and ax in hand, as the Rock and Stone infantry regiments moved forward to take the surviving Chengdu soldiers, prisoner. What had seemed to be an inevitable battle had faded away as quickly as the morning mist,
"Well done, Zhanlue Guwen. A bloodless victory."
"Finest kind, Your Majesty. There are times and places for massacres but this wasn't one of them. Imperial Censor, do you want any of these men back?"
Wan Jing-guo started at the unexpected question. "No, Zhanlue Guwen. If we took them back we would be obliged to execute them. Instead, I leave their fate in the hands of your King."
"Do we need these men, Zhanlue Guwen?"
"We have roads that need building, city walls to strengthen, temples to build, and crops to grow. The harder these men work and the greater their skill, the sooner they will earn their freedom."
King Shunhuazhen smiled with pleasure at the prospect of an enlarged workforce improving his Kingdom. "As you have spoken, so shall it be. Imperial Censor, if the families of these men wish to join them, may I respectfully beg that the August Throne allows them to do so?"
Wan Jing-guo nodded briefly. "I think that would be entirely possible. My business here is finished and I will be leaving for Chengdu within the hour. Before I leave, could I trouble Your Majesty for another cup of your excellent tea?"
Audience Room, Royal Palace, Dili, Nanzhao.
"The greatest achievement of all was, of course, that not a single one of our soldiers lost his life and we killed only a handful of the enemy." King Shunhuazhen looked around his gathered courtiers. He had just finished reviewing the prisoners who had been paraded for the purpose. They had been miserable at the prospect of slavery but had recognized that it was better than being dead. Usually. Then the King had told them that they would be part of a new army corps of engineers and receive a small but regular payment for their work. They had also been told that it had been agreed married men would be joined by their wives and children. Finally, he had advised them that if they worked hard for a set period, they would be set free and welcomed to remain in Nanzhao where hard and skilled workers were both respected and given an opportunity to prosper. By the time King Shunhuazhen had finished speaking to them, the prisoners were much happier at their prospects.
Now, the King realized that the work given to those men had to be decided. He looked around his assembled courtiers, noting the expressions on their faces. "Now we have another issue to address. The attack by the Prince of Machulo on Chiang Saen. A great disaster was only averted by the heroism of the women of the town who held the pass long enough for a relief force to arrive. Their courage and self-sacrifice deserve to be remembered. I decree that a commemorative column be erected at the top of the Habu Pass, bearing the names of those who fought there headed by those who lost their lives. A pension shall be granted to their families in compensation for the loss of a valued daughter and the note "well-deserved of the state" shall be entered in their family records."
There was a surge of applause at the generous recognition. Behind the King, two of his bodyguards lifted signs that said "Be Silent!" and "Be Serious!". The room quieted quickly in response but the atmosphere of approval remained. Once again, the King scanned those present and noted the expressions on their faces. With a little amusement, he noted that Zhanlue Guwen and Suchun were doing the same. He decided it would be wise to set time aside for the three of them to compare their conclusions.
"Princess Suriyothai? Approach the throne."
Suriyothai stepped forward, holding her breath. This was the first time she had been in the Royal Presence without her husband by her side to guide her. For a moment she envied her Chinese equivalents who lived in seclusion and were never seen by men other than their husband and his oldest, most trusted retainers. She had always pitied such women and rejoiced in the comparative freedom that Nanzhao women enjoyed. In Nanzhao, women were free to live, move and work as they wished, subject to the agreement of their husbands of course. An unmarried woman had unprecedented freedom by Chinese standards. So much so that the T'ai had a saying "women and cats do what they want and men and dogs have to learn to live with it." She carefully suppressed the smile that thought threatened. Then she forced herself to breathe steadily and tried to clear her head of the paralyzing fear that she might be doing something wrong.
"Princess Suriyothai, we are much impressed by your battle in the Habu Pass although it grieves us that so many of our young women died there. In honor of them, and respect for your bravery, you are promoted to Princess of the Second Rank. Your husband is not here to join us?"
"Most gracious majesty, we make it a practice that on no account should both of us be absent from our city at the same time. My Prince is at Chiang Saen, I left only when he arrived."
"Very sound practice, Princess. You are indeed worthy of the rank bestowed upon you. It is customary to grant a Princess newly raised in rank the right to present petitions to this Throne. Do you have such petitions? For a new palace perhaps or for ornamental gardens to relax in?"
Suriyothai shook her head. She had been warned that this was coming and had considered her answer very carefully. "With the utmost respect for His Most Gracious Majesty, may I ask that your Royal Surveyors come to Chiang Saen and inspect our city walls. Their expertise in improving fortifications is famous and their advice would be of great value. If your Majesty's favor extends further, may I ask that we build roads around Chiang Saen? This would allow us to move troops more quickly and the improved trade roads would bring would improve the prosperity of my people."
"A Princess who thinks first of her people is an example to us all. We will send a Royal Surveyor and his assistants soon. We are minded to building new roads between our cities for the reasons you suggest. The first will join Dali and Chiang Saen and will be built by our new corps of engineers. When that road reaches Chiang Saen, the engineers will build your additional roads."
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Chapter Eight
Private Apartments, Royal Palace, Dili, Nanzhao.
Princess Suriyothai paused before the doors and took a very deep breath. She was well aware that any woman, especially a Princess, would be well-advised to take great caution when responding to an invitation from a man to visit his private apartment suite. Two of her bodyguards took up their stations on either side of the door while a third knocked respectfully on the ornately-carved panels. The doors opened quickly and she was promptly ushered in. She had expected an ornate living room or, much worse, a bedroom but instead, there was a giant table down the center and maps on the walls. Her eyes were experienced enough to realize this room was a military command center.
That created another surprise, there were two other women in the room. Suriyothai knew that didn’t mean she was safe; using the presence of other women to lull the suspicions of a potential victim was a common ploy. It was delusional to think that if this meeting went bad, the other women would come to her aid or even just have fellow-feeling or sympathy for her. She knew it was just as likely they would help hold their victim down. What reassured her was something else, an obvious feeling of the respect that Zhanlue Guwen had for her and her achievement in the Habu Pass. To her eyes, he also had a kindly and dignified face despite being a barbarian.
"Highness, thank you for coming. May I introduce my daughter, Suchun, and my aide, Zhanshi."
Suriyothai gave an appropriately haughty nod, befitting a Princess of the Second Rank. She noted that both women were also barbarians although it was less obvious with Suchun. She had carefully shaped her eyebrows and her makeup made her eyes look almost civilized. She could easily be mistaken for a civilized person, but Zhanshi could not. Her prominent nose alone marked her as a barbarian. Suriyothai felt compelled to ask the obvious question. "You are not of Nanzhao?"
"We are guests here and we serve the King. Our homes are in countries that are far, far away. I am Macedonian, Suchun is Persian, and Zhanshi is Roman. Suchun is my adopted daughter. I must advise you that her birth name is Igrat."
Suriyothai ruined the effect she had been trying to build up by completely mangling the attempt to pronounce Igrat's name. Unfortunately for her, the harsh, guttural G sound simply didn’t exist in Nanzhao-Chinese. Suriyothai had colored bright red in embarrassment at the great discourtesy of mangling somebody's name. Igrat smiled at her "You had better stick to Suchun. Easier for everybody."
Zhanlue Guwen was trying to stop himself from laughing at the exchange. "My aide, Zhanshi, has the birth-name Achillea."
Suriyothai went even brighter red, knowing that the guttural K sound was far beyond her. It also didn't exist in Nanzhao-Chinese, the nearest equivalent being a sibilant Zh. Suriyothai tried hard but the name came out as Ashiya. She was too embarrassed to maintain her poise as a Princess and, instead gave Zhanshi an apologetic grin. Zhanlue Guwen nodded. "Just to complete the set, my birth name is Parmenio. Now, you recognize the table?"
Suriyothai looked down at the model that covered the entire surface of the table. It was like the one that she had seen before she had taken her women up to block the pass only this one was much larger and much more detailed. It had been painted as well, the patches of trees and sources of water carefully marked. "It is the Habu Pass. It is a beautiful model.”
"Thank you, Suchun made it. Could you tell me exactly what happened there? Start at the beginning and take your time, if you realize you missed something, stop and go back to put it in. If anything is not clear, I'll ask about it after you have finished. This process is called a debriefing by the way and it’s the way we learn about what happened and what, if anything, could have been done differently. The lessons on things that were done right and things that can be improved will be distributed to our commanders so they can learn from you.
Suriyothai started with the arrival of Gaochai and followed the story through to the return of the surviving women to the city. She lost herself in the story, reliving the steady loss of the women she had brought to the pass and their last desperate refuge in a tiny offshoot of the canyon. By the time she had finished, the hourglasses showed that almost three hours had passed. Even more startling for her was that she had been so absorbed in the account that she hadn’t noticed King Shunhuazhen had entered the room and was sitting quietly in one corner.
The memory of the bodies of the women laying where they had fallen nearly broke her heart. "I suppose you will now tell me how much I did wrong? How all those women died because of me."
Zhanlue Guwen shook his head. "Remarkably no. No, on many levels. Above all, remember that your casualties resulted from the deeds of Machulo, not you. About your actions, it is quite hard to spot any mistakes you did make. Could you please show me on the model, exactly where you took up your initial positions?"
Suriyothai studied the terrain and pointed to the position she recognized. "There. The rocky spine is the top of the ridge with the Willow Road coming up along here, then making a hairpin turn through a gap in the rocky spine and then moving down the other side. We were around the hairpin, just far enough away to have space for a charge and for the downslope to give us cover. Also, that put us in the shade. I had my archers up on the spine itself where they could give me warning of the enemy approach but were exposed."
"And where did you tell Luang Katuh na Tali you would be setting up your blocking force?"
Again, Suriyothai studied the terrain and pointed to an area about halfway down the slope. "There. I gave him a plausible reason why that was a good place and he agreed. Machulo's men were expecting us to be waiting for them there. The leader of their vanguard said 'what are you doing here?' with a heavy emphasis on the word 'here'. Even then that struck me as strange."
"I do not think that Luang Katuh na Tali is your friend." Suchun's voice was droll. “Father, I need to write up this report. May I be excused while I get that done?”
“Go ahead, you know how important that report is.” Suchun started to back out of the room but stopped just before leaving and addressed Suriyothai. “He is not your friend.”
"I agree." Suriyothai sounded very sad, not at the fact of his treachery but her misjudgment of him. "He was a long-standing advisor, trusted and we believed his loyalty to be proven. We were wrong."
"One of the saddest things any ruler must learn, Princess, is that a traitor, almost by definition, is a trusted man whose loyalty is beyond doubt." King Shunhuazhen sounded very deeply troubled. "You should kill Luang Katuh at the first opportunity."
"Oh, I intend to, your Majesty. He planned to kill my entire family. If I do not kill him, he will try again."
"Good for you, Highness. That fortune-teller needs your attention as well." Zhanshi sounded as if she was simply stating a fact, which to her she was. "What matters is not what happens to you, but how you react to it."
"People, can we stay on point here please." Zhanlue Guwen looked around at the group, then at the model of the pass. "You rested your people at night and moved up early in the morning. That's very good."
Suriyothai moved her hand in a swath over the crest of the ridge. "This area is arid, with no water at all. We took extra supplies with us."
"You have a good eye for ground, Highness, and excellent attention to detail. Those are characteristics that you should cultivate. If I may offer some advice, train yourself to be constantly aware of the ground you are on, how it may be used against you and how you may use it against your enemies. Selecting the proper ground for a battle and then using it well are the most important single factors in winning a victory. Build a library in your mind of good ground for your army to fight on and store them away. Visit them when you can and think of how they may help you. Each one of them should be like an old friend to you. Like any old friend, you should understand them. Make it your priority to find out how the mountains rise, how the valleys open out, how the plains lie, and to understand the nature of rivers and marshes. Understanding terrain is your most vital skill. If you lack it, you lack this essential trait then you will be unable to surprise your enemies, select their quarters, lead armies, array the battle, and successfully besiege towns. Behind all that is the need to guard the secrets of where you intend to fight."
"I did that, Zhanlue Guwen."
"I know, and you did well. As I said there is very little you did that was wrong here. For a young woman with no experience of war, you have an excellent grasp of the basics. One might even say, a natural talent for military command. This is a good foundation upon which you can build. When the fighting started, where were you standing?"
"Behind the lines of spears. That way I could move to counter dangerous situations as they develop."
Zhanlue Guwen winced. "I have deep-rooted objections to generals doing that. It usually gets them killed and a headless army is already defeated. This was the one major fault in your handling of the battle. Early on, you must establish a reserve, even if it is only yourself and a handful of others. Then, when a dangerous situation develops, you send them. And then get them back as soon as the emergency has passed. Identify your best fighters and make them your reserve. That way you have a key piece in your hands and can use it to your best advantage."
He watched Suriyothai absorb the comments. "One last thing, Highness. Wars are won by the best-trained officers and soldiers who have faith in their commanders. You need to practice command so that you can show your troops that you know what you are doing. Your Majesty, may I request that the Princess be given a military rank so that she may practice the arts of war? Perhaps we may start her as a 50-leader and let her build her skills from there?"
"An excellent idea, Zhanlue Guwen. Princess Suriyothai, you now hold the military rank of 50-leader. Use it well and learn from my strategic advisor. You will not find a better teacher."
Suriyothai had come to that conclusion for herself. She was unable to say so before Suchun came back, a scroll in her hand. “Highness, your copy of the account of the battle in the Habu Pass. You need to keep this very safe.”
“My daughter is right, Highness. That scroll is the first of your after-action reports. Treasure it, for it is part of a collection that will be amongst your most valued properties. These are the key to your success in command.”
Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen.
“Zhanlue Guwen calls it the School for Captains or sometimes his Staff College. It is only open to those he invites, and to His Majesty of course. I gain the impression that His Majesty attends every time he can.”
“What do you do there? Learn new and subtle ways of wielding sword and spear? Or are these secrets there too precious to be told to outsiders?” Prince Kulap sounded almost jealous.
Suriyothai shook her head. “Zhanlue Guwen says that if a General ever finds himself needing to wield a sword, then everything has gone very badly wrong. He added that if a general ever finds himself in a fair fight, then he has also done everything very badly wrong.”
Kulap burst out laughing, making their bed shake with his mirth. “That is so true. Oh, I am beginning to like this Zhanlue Guwen. So, if you do not practice with weapons, what do you do?”
“We start by reading one of the scrolls that he calls after-action reports. We study them carefully and then we discuss what we have read. Zhanlue Guwen asks us to identify the mistakes that the commanders made and why they were in error. Sometimes the discussions get quite heated. The first time I was there, the subject was a cavalry battle in the north of the country, against Tibetan raiders. We had won but it had been a costly battle. Zhanlue Guwen asked me if I had detected any errors in how our cavalry force was commanded.
"And had you?"
"I remembered how Machulo had advanced into the Habu Pass and been surprised. I noted that there was no mention of scouts in the report we were reading and suggested that the cavalry commander had failed to put out scouting parties. If Machulo had done that, he would know where we were, and things would have gone badly for us."
"How did the others there react to that?"
"They agreed with me." The surprise in Suriyothai's voice was unmistakable. "Of course, I didn't know how to do scouting. Zhanlue Guwen advised I ask you for advice on that. He said your skills as a light cavalry commander were unsurpassed and I should never miss an opportunity to learn from you."
"You did put out scouts to some extent, the crossbow women on the high ground served some of that role. When we rode to relieve the threat here, the commander of the Tiger Regiment picked out the men who rode the strongest horses and split them into three groups. One group rode ahead of our column and another one on each side. Normally we would have a trailing group as well to eliminate anybody who followed us but we simply didn’t have time for that. As it was, by the time we reached Chiang Saen, the scouts had ridden their horses to near-death. They were foundering and couldn’t keep up anymore. So, we left them in the city. That way their riders could help reinforce the walls."
"But your cavalry had already arrived and would prevent Machulo from advancing on the city?"
"I think Zhanlue Guwen would reply that it is very dangerous to assume that things will go the way you want them to. Remember, we did not know that you were still holding out in the pass. It was possible, likely even, that you and your force were all dead and that Machulo had left the pass. That meant it was quite possible that he would slip past us and hit the city anyway. Then, everything would have been for nothing. My Princess, never forget that things can go wrong and work out what to do if the unexpected takes place.”
The Soothsayer's Hiding Place, Weaver's District, Chiang Saen
Sarom Maung, previously the Royal Soothsayer, was shivering with fear as she crouched in her hiding place. It had once been a cabinet where clothes and valuables were stored but those days had long passed. Now, with its concealed door, it was her last and final refuge. As the days had passed, she had convinced herself that her part in the conspiracy to remove the T'ai leadership of Chiang Saen and replace it with a B'ai clique had been undiscovered and she was in the clear. So convinced had she become of that outcome, she had started to create a story to explain her absence. Of course, the cynical might ask why she hadn't used her soothsaying to reveal her future. The realistic would probably assert that she was afraid of the answers she might find. The cynical might believe that she simply didn’t believe in her rites and spellcasting and understood that they were all part of a fraud. Both were right.
Sarom's growing confidence that she had escaped retribution had lasted until she had heard the hammering on her cousin's door and the call from the City Magistrate’s Hall to open up immediately. She had hoped her cousin would refuse to answer but she knew in her heart that he had more sense than that. Denied access, the Magistrate's lieutenants and/or the City Constables would simply break the door down and give her cousin a severe beating for failing to obey the official summons. That was the sort of offense for which somebody could end up kneeling before the Magistrate himself. In that case, a severe beating would be the least of his problems.
So, as Sarom crouched in the darkness of her refuge, she expected to hear the crash of timber and the shattering of glass as the officials tore apart her cousin's home. Instead, there was an almost complete silence, broken only by the sound of a murmured exchange. Then, suddenly the door to her hiding place was thrown open. There were indeed two of the Magistrate’s lieutenants and four Constables standing before her, but her cousin was standing with them. Grimly, Sarom realized that he had traded her in exchange for freedom from blame for his family.
Before she could respond to the realization that everybody had turned against her, one of the Constables reached into her refuge and dragged her out by her hair. She begged to be allowed to put on her day clothing rather than be dragged through the streets in her night attire, but the only reply was a fist crunching into her mouth. The constables put the heaviest iron shackles on her hands and ankles, then dragged her out of her cousin's tailor's shop. She was paraded through the street to the city jail where she was thrown into another small room. Only, this time it was a cell, not a refuge.
Private Apartments, Royal Palace, Dili, Nanzhao.
Princess Suriyothai paused before the doors and took a very deep breath. She was well aware that any woman, especially a Princess, would be well-advised to take great caution when responding to an invitation from a man to visit his private apartment suite. Two of her bodyguards took up their stations on either side of the door while a third knocked respectfully on the ornately-carved panels. The doors opened quickly and she was promptly ushered in. She had expected an ornate living room or, much worse, a bedroom but instead, there was a giant table down the center and maps on the walls. Her eyes were experienced enough to realize this room was a military command center.
That created another surprise, there were two other women in the room. Suriyothai knew that didn’t mean she was safe; using the presence of other women to lull the suspicions of a potential victim was a common ploy. It was delusional to think that if this meeting went bad, the other women would come to her aid or even just have fellow-feeling or sympathy for her. She knew it was just as likely they would help hold their victim down. What reassured her was something else, an obvious feeling of the respect that Zhanlue Guwen had for her and her achievement in the Habu Pass. To her eyes, he also had a kindly and dignified face despite being a barbarian.
"Highness, thank you for coming. May I introduce my daughter, Suchun, and my aide, Zhanshi."
Suriyothai gave an appropriately haughty nod, befitting a Princess of the Second Rank. She noted that both women were also barbarians although it was less obvious with Suchun. She had carefully shaped her eyebrows and her makeup made her eyes look almost civilized. She could easily be mistaken for a civilized person, but Zhanshi could not. Her prominent nose alone marked her as a barbarian. Suriyothai felt compelled to ask the obvious question. "You are not of Nanzhao?"
"We are guests here and we serve the King. Our homes are in countries that are far, far away. I am Macedonian, Suchun is Persian, and Zhanshi is Roman. Suchun is my adopted daughter. I must advise you that her birth name is Igrat."
Suriyothai ruined the effect she had been trying to build up by completely mangling the attempt to pronounce Igrat's name. Unfortunately for her, the harsh, guttural G sound simply didn’t exist in Nanzhao-Chinese. Suriyothai had colored bright red in embarrassment at the great discourtesy of mangling somebody's name. Igrat smiled at her "You had better stick to Suchun. Easier for everybody."
Zhanlue Guwen was trying to stop himself from laughing at the exchange. "My aide, Zhanshi, has the birth-name Achillea."
Suriyothai went even brighter red, knowing that the guttural K sound was far beyond her. It also didn't exist in Nanzhao-Chinese, the nearest equivalent being a sibilant Zh. Suriyothai tried hard but the name came out as Ashiya. She was too embarrassed to maintain her poise as a Princess and, instead gave Zhanshi an apologetic grin. Zhanlue Guwen nodded. "Just to complete the set, my birth name is Parmenio. Now, you recognize the table?"
Suriyothai looked down at the model that covered the entire surface of the table. It was like the one that she had seen before she had taken her women up to block the pass only this one was much larger and much more detailed. It had been painted as well, the patches of trees and sources of water carefully marked. "It is the Habu Pass. It is a beautiful model.”
"Thank you, Suchun made it. Could you tell me exactly what happened there? Start at the beginning and take your time, if you realize you missed something, stop and go back to put it in. If anything is not clear, I'll ask about it after you have finished. This process is called a debriefing by the way and it’s the way we learn about what happened and what, if anything, could have been done differently. The lessons on things that were done right and things that can be improved will be distributed to our commanders so they can learn from you.
Suriyothai started with the arrival of Gaochai and followed the story through to the return of the surviving women to the city. She lost herself in the story, reliving the steady loss of the women she had brought to the pass and their last desperate refuge in a tiny offshoot of the canyon. By the time she had finished, the hourglasses showed that almost three hours had passed. Even more startling for her was that she had been so absorbed in the account that she hadn’t noticed King Shunhuazhen had entered the room and was sitting quietly in one corner.
The memory of the bodies of the women laying where they had fallen nearly broke her heart. "I suppose you will now tell me how much I did wrong? How all those women died because of me."
Zhanlue Guwen shook his head. "Remarkably no. No, on many levels. Above all, remember that your casualties resulted from the deeds of Machulo, not you. About your actions, it is quite hard to spot any mistakes you did make. Could you please show me on the model, exactly where you took up your initial positions?"
Suriyothai studied the terrain and pointed to the position she recognized. "There. The rocky spine is the top of the ridge with the Willow Road coming up along here, then making a hairpin turn through a gap in the rocky spine and then moving down the other side. We were around the hairpin, just far enough away to have space for a charge and for the downslope to give us cover. Also, that put us in the shade. I had my archers up on the spine itself where they could give me warning of the enemy approach but were exposed."
"And where did you tell Luang Katuh na Tali you would be setting up your blocking force?"
Again, Suriyothai studied the terrain and pointed to an area about halfway down the slope. "There. I gave him a plausible reason why that was a good place and he agreed. Machulo's men were expecting us to be waiting for them there. The leader of their vanguard said 'what are you doing here?' with a heavy emphasis on the word 'here'. Even then that struck me as strange."
"I do not think that Luang Katuh na Tali is your friend." Suchun's voice was droll. “Father, I need to write up this report. May I be excused while I get that done?”
“Go ahead, you know how important that report is.” Suchun started to back out of the room but stopped just before leaving and addressed Suriyothai. “He is not your friend.”
"I agree." Suriyothai sounded very sad, not at the fact of his treachery but her misjudgment of him. "He was a long-standing advisor, trusted and we believed his loyalty to be proven. We were wrong."
"One of the saddest things any ruler must learn, Princess, is that a traitor, almost by definition, is a trusted man whose loyalty is beyond doubt." King Shunhuazhen sounded very deeply troubled. "You should kill Luang Katuh at the first opportunity."
"Oh, I intend to, your Majesty. He planned to kill my entire family. If I do not kill him, he will try again."
"Good for you, Highness. That fortune-teller needs your attention as well." Zhanshi sounded as if she was simply stating a fact, which to her she was. "What matters is not what happens to you, but how you react to it."
"People, can we stay on point here please." Zhanlue Guwen looked around at the group, then at the model of the pass. "You rested your people at night and moved up early in the morning. That's very good."
Suriyothai moved her hand in a swath over the crest of the ridge. "This area is arid, with no water at all. We took extra supplies with us."
"You have a good eye for ground, Highness, and excellent attention to detail. Those are characteristics that you should cultivate. If I may offer some advice, train yourself to be constantly aware of the ground you are on, how it may be used against you and how you may use it against your enemies. Selecting the proper ground for a battle and then using it well are the most important single factors in winning a victory. Build a library in your mind of good ground for your army to fight on and store them away. Visit them when you can and think of how they may help you. Each one of them should be like an old friend to you. Like any old friend, you should understand them. Make it your priority to find out how the mountains rise, how the valleys open out, how the plains lie, and to understand the nature of rivers and marshes. Understanding terrain is your most vital skill. If you lack it, you lack this essential trait then you will be unable to surprise your enemies, select their quarters, lead armies, array the battle, and successfully besiege towns. Behind all that is the need to guard the secrets of where you intend to fight."
"I did that, Zhanlue Guwen."
"I know, and you did well. As I said there is very little you did that was wrong here. For a young woman with no experience of war, you have an excellent grasp of the basics. One might even say, a natural talent for military command. This is a good foundation upon which you can build. When the fighting started, where were you standing?"
"Behind the lines of spears. That way I could move to counter dangerous situations as they develop."
Zhanlue Guwen winced. "I have deep-rooted objections to generals doing that. It usually gets them killed and a headless army is already defeated. This was the one major fault in your handling of the battle. Early on, you must establish a reserve, even if it is only yourself and a handful of others. Then, when a dangerous situation develops, you send them. And then get them back as soon as the emergency has passed. Identify your best fighters and make them your reserve. That way you have a key piece in your hands and can use it to your best advantage."
He watched Suriyothai absorb the comments. "One last thing, Highness. Wars are won by the best-trained officers and soldiers who have faith in their commanders. You need to practice command so that you can show your troops that you know what you are doing. Your Majesty, may I request that the Princess be given a military rank so that she may practice the arts of war? Perhaps we may start her as a 50-leader and let her build her skills from there?"
"An excellent idea, Zhanlue Guwen. Princess Suriyothai, you now hold the military rank of 50-leader. Use it well and learn from my strategic advisor. You will not find a better teacher."
Suriyothai had come to that conclusion for herself. She was unable to say so before Suchun came back, a scroll in her hand. “Highness, your copy of the account of the battle in the Habu Pass. You need to keep this very safe.”
“My daughter is right, Highness. That scroll is the first of your after-action reports. Treasure it, for it is part of a collection that will be amongst your most valued properties. These are the key to your success in command.”
Private Apartments, Chiang Saen Palace, Chiang Saen.
“Zhanlue Guwen calls it the School for Captains or sometimes his Staff College. It is only open to those he invites, and to His Majesty of course. I gain the impression that His Majesty attends every time he can.”
“What do you do there? Learn new and subtle ways of wielding sword and spear? Or are these secrets there too precious to be told to outsiders?” Prince Kulap sounded almost jealous.
Suriyothai shook her head. “Zhanlue Guwen says that if a General ever finds himself needing to wield a sword, then everything has gone very badly wrong. He added that if a general ever finds himself in a fair fight, then he has also done everything very badly wrong.”
Kulap burst out laughing, making their bed shake with his mirth. “That is so true. Oh, I am beginning to like this Zhanlue Guwen. So, if you do not practice with weapons, what do you do?”
“We start by reading one of the scrolls that he calls after-action reports. We study them carefully and then we discuss what we have read. Zhanlue Guwen asks us to identify the mistakes that the commanders made and why they were in error. Sometimes the discussions get quite heated. The first time I was there, the subject was a cavalry battle in the north of the country, against Tibetan raiders. We had won but it had been a costly battle. Zhanlue Guwen asked me if I had detected any errors in how our cavalry force was commanded.
"And had you?"
"I remembered how Machulo had advanced into the Habu Pass and been surprised. I noted that there was no mention of scouts in the report we were reading and suggested that the cavalry commander had failed to put out scouting parties. If Machulo had done that, he would know where we were, and things would have gone badly for us."
"How did the others there react to that?"
"They agreed with me." The surprise in Suriyothai's voice was unmistakable. "Of course, I didn't know how to do scouting. Zhanlue Guwen advised I ask you for advice on that. He said your skills as a light cavalry commander were unsurpassed and I should never miss an opportunity to learn from you."
"You did put out scouts to some extent, the crossbow women on the high ground served some of that role. When we rode to relieve the threat here, the commander of the Tiger Regiment picked out the men who rode the strongest horses and split them into three groups. One group rode ahead of our column and another one on each side. Normally we would have a trailing group as well to eliminate anybody who followed us but we simply didn’t have time for that. As it was, by the time we reached Chiang Saen, the scouts had ridden their horses to near-death. They were foundering and couldn’t keep up anymore. So, we left them in the city. That way their riders could help reinforce the walls."
"But your cavalry had already arrived and would prevent Machulo from advancing on the city?"
"I think Zhanlue Guwen would reply that it is very dangerous to assume that things will go the way you want them to. Remember, we did not know that you were still holding out in the pass. It was possible, likely even, that you and your force were all dead and that Machulo had left the pass. That meant it was quite possible that he would slip past us and hit the city anyway. Then, everything would have been for nothing. My Princess, never forget that things can go wrong and work out what to do if the unexpected takes place.”
The Soothsayer's Hiding Place, Weaver's District, Chiang Saen
Sarom Maung, previously the Royal Soothsayer, was shivering with fear as she crouched in her hiding place. It had once been a cabinet where clothes and valuables were stored but those days had long passed. Now, with its concealed door, it was her last and final refuge. As the days had passed, she had convinced herself that her part in the conspiracy to remove the T'ai leadership of Chiang Saen and replace it with a B'ai clique had been undiscovered and she was in the clear. So convinced had she become of that outcome, she had started to create a story to explain her absence. Of course, the cynical might ask why she hadn't used her soothsaying to reveal her future. The realistic would probably assert that she was afraid of the answers she might find. The cynical might believe that she simply didn’t believe in her rites and spellcasting and understood that they were all part of a fraud. Both were right.
Sarom's growing confidence that she had escaped retribution had lasted until she had heard the hammering on her cousin's door and the call from the City Magistrate’s Hall to open up immediately. She had hoped her cousin would refuse to answer but she knew in her heart that he had more sense than that. Denied access, the Magistrate's lieutenants and/or the City Constables would simply break the door down and give her cousin a severe beating for failing to obey the official summons. That was the sort of offense for which somebody could end up kneeling before the Magistrate himself. In that case, a severe beating would be the least of his problems.
So, as Sarom crouched in the darkness of her refuge, she expected to hear the crash of timber and the shattering of glass as the officials tore apart her cousin's home. Instead, there was an almost complete silence, broken only by the sound of a murmured exchange. Then, suddenly the door to her hiding place was thrown open. There were indeed two of the Magistrate’s lieutenants and four Constables standing before her, but her cousin was standing with them. Grimly, Sarom realized that he had traded her in exchange for freedom from blame for his family.
Before she could respond to the realization that everybody had turned against her, one of the Constables reached into her refuge and dragged her out by her hair. She begged to be allowed to put on her day clothing rather than be dragged through the streets in her night attire, but the only reply was a fist crunching into her mouth. The constables put the heaviest iron shackles on her hands and ankles, then dragged her out of her cousin's tailor's shop. She was paraded through the street to the city jail where she was thrown into another small room. Only, this time it was a cell, not a refuge.
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Re: 892 - The Royal Court
I am so very sorry Stuart passed before he was able to finish this one. As he wrote, he got better at writing.
Belushi TD
Belushi TD
Re: 892 - The Royal Court
Prince Kulip
Nanzhao heavy cavalry
Chinese Imperial Regular
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Re: 892 - The Royal Court
BangPhitsan
BangPhitsan2S
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