The Mandate of Heaven - Part 1 of 2
Part 2
'The moon is full, the Confuser and the Golden One are also in alignment, all three gleam bright, Your Imperial Majesty, now is an auspicious time,' Tao Huan's voice filled the Green Jade Hall, his head pressed to the polished wood block floor. Legions of counsellors, attendants, military officials, and civil servants filled the hall, all armed with their tassels of office ranging from simple bronze and copper beads to pearls and sapphires hanging from rings of jade. Four carved wood pillars stood either side of him, with coiling dragons reaching up to the rafters, each scale and whisker depicted in vivid detail.
The Son of Heaven's mianguan chimed as the jade beads struck each other. The young Emperor Ling looked to Chancellor Yu and nodded. The most excellent of the Three Excellencies sat on a low stool three steps down from the Emperor on his Dragon Throne flanked by celestial sunbirds and immortal tortoises. Chancellor Yu rose to his full unimpressive height, pulling at the grey striped beard sprouting from his chin, 'It is time. Generals Zhou, Lu, Wen, march south via the Three Passes, each take one hundred thousand troops and besiege the rebel stronghold of Xiangpi. General Cai secure Mount Chang Cao and cut off the enemies retreat. Restore peace to All Under Heaven and be richly rewarded now and in the afterlife.'
The four generals marched out from the ranks and bowed before the Emperor saying in unison, 'Your Imperial Majesty graces us with this duty. The rebels will be destroyed.'
The Son of Heaven smiled, his narrow eyes narrowing further. He stood and reached for his sword. His yellow robe slid over the steps as he descended. The four men kneeled and stared at the floor. 'General Zhou, as the senior amongst you We name you General Who Quells Uprisings and name you Commandant of the Campaign to Uproot the Rebels. We present you our sword as a symbol of our authority.' Emperor Ling held the jade sheath and silk wrapped hilt horizontally and lowered it for Zhou to accept with hands outstretched.
'I thank Your Imperial Majesty and promise to deliver the heads of the rebel leaders before the persimmons ripen.’
The Son of Heaven returned to his throne, ‘I look forward to the day, do not keep me waiting long.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty!’ the four generals announced together.
General Zhou Shang rode at the head of his force of one hundred thousand men, swordsmen, bowmen, cavalry, with siege equipment and the baggage train behind them, a column many li long pressed even longer by the narrow valley that separated Xiangpi from the Celestial Capital. Craggy walls of sheer rock as high as the Green Jade Hall rose on both sides. Zhou Shang had scouts atop the valley navigating the mountainous terrain on foot though he had not seen one in many hours but nor had there been a signal bomb to alert of an enemy presence either and so he remained confident but cautious.
Generals Lu and Wen had drawn lots for the west and east passes while Zhou assumed the middle one as the Commandant of the Campaign to Uproot Rebels. Lu Liang had chosen the east pass, a wider, straighter road that was sometimes used by travelling peoples, he was expected to arrive ahead of Zhou and Wen and prepare the siege of Xiangpi. Wen Bei was left with the west, less a pass and more a series of rivers, streams, and marshland. Boats had been provided but they would have to be carried part of the way. Wen Bei had taken no cavalry or siege equipment and his entire force was expected to arrive late but, crucially, the pass led to the River of Fallen Stars that fed into Xiangpi itself. Once the river was dammed victory was guaranteed. Xiangpi was a natural fortress with thick walls for extra measure, built on the corner of a mountain range the river was only accessible from the west but flowed to the east. A well provisioned fleet would be able to flee down river, where it became wide and deep enough for sea faring ships to sail.
A thunderous crack split the valley. Zhou Shang’s steed whinnied and reared, the foot soldiers behind him shuddered, asking each other questions of what the sound was and where did it come from. General Zhou began to turn in the saddle to calm his troops when he caught a cluster of spindly trees halfway up the valley wall slump and plummet. A cacophony of earth echoed through the valley followed by a mist of dirt and grit that engulfed Zhou and his army. He drew his sword, peering into the beige fog but nothing emerged from it. No arrows pelted down from the mountains and no hidden rebels sprung out to slaughter him and the Imperial Army. Yet he felt no calmer for it, the lack of an ambush for surprising than an ambush would have been. He felt a tension as the air began to clear around him and the landscape ahead had been altered.
Great boulders and mounds of clay now blocked the valley pass, too much to move and too high for anyone but light infantry to climb. Zhou would have to use the sappers to dig a path through and that could take days. He called for a runner and commanded him to bring the sappers to him. Just as the feather of a man sprinted off there were a series of yells from somewhere in the dust cloud where it was still thick towards the centre.
‘The corrupt Emperor must be slain, the True Son Of Heaven will prevail!’ a single voice cried out from everywhere nowhere followed by a chorus of the same. General Zhou tugged at his reins, spinning his steed in a spiral. Crossbowmen emerged from the craggy cliffs. Spearmen from over the mountains of clay and stone. Sounds of battle clanged to the rear of the column. Someone had begun drumming to direct the troops but he was out of time and frantic in his beats.
‘For the Emperor! For the Empire!’ General Zhou cried, his throat burning from the intensity. He raised his sword and charged, hoping against sense the bewildered swordsmen behind him were following.
General Wen Bei was sailing along a third nameless stream that fed into another nameless river that ran into the River of Fallen Stars, but he was yet again being told he could not sail the whole way for the streams became too shallow and the river went underneath a mountain. He would, again, have to organise his men off the water and across land, all while carrying the boats. All Wen Bei could pray for was firm ground to set up camp. He scratched his eyes, itchy from the three weeks without a full nights sleep.
Tao Huan observed the night sky at third watch as he did everyday. Clouds obscured large swathes of the east and the Fourth House had dimmed save for the Central Star which shone brighter. The Three Jewels of the Emperor’s Belt also shone brighter than usual, the western most star shimmering in reds and yellows. Something had changed, and not for the better.
General Zhou Shang hacked at the crossbowman with his blunt sword. The scale armour on his right shoulder was split, his helmet was lost, and his horse was dead or dying from puncture wounds. He was hunched over the corpse of the crossbowman, wheezing, blood welling in his ears, a thousand aches across his body and only a handful of them to do with being hit by something. Grit stung his eyes, the final howls of battle hissed in his ears, but when he looked around he knew the Imperial Army had won. Joy was short lived. For every rebel he saw dead there were three Imperials. Wounded soldiers staggered across the valley or knelt in mourning beside dead comrades.
Of the one hundred thousand Zhou Shang, General Who Quells Uprisings, had been given no more than twenty-five thousand survived the ambush.
Wen Bei was on his cot sweating from every pore and shaking from the fever that gripped him and a third of his army. Sores had opened up on his arms, on his hands, on his face, sores that wouldn’t heal and wept white pus. They had reached the final river crossing, ahead of schedule his astronomer informed him, a sure sign of Heaven’s favour and yet disease was a sure sign of Heaven’s disfavour. The astronomer had no idea why. General Wen felt Heaven wished him to advance swifter and so he ordered his army to march, the sickest amongst them to be carried in the boats. Progress would be slow but more than lying about in camp for days if not weeks on end.
The final river was shallow enough for the men to wade through, those who could at least. The sick were taken across by boat. Wen Bei was the last of the ill to cross the water, he was shivering even though he was drenched in sweat. He saw the sky open up and a cluster of dragons descend, coiling from each other until twelve azure jade dragons flew overhead. The celestial dragons spoke to Wen Bei, not with their voices but with their minds, and he knew he had to continue on, had to dam the river and conquer the city for it was Heaven’s Will. The dragons returned to Heaven and Wen Bei fell unconscious.
General Lu Liang had been riding for days, stopping at last light and rising at dawn, a gruelling pace but a necessary one if he was to reach the rebel stronghold of Xiangpi. That the rebels were within striking distance of the Celestial Capital was an insult that could not be borne by the Son of Heaven any longer. To have succeeded in striking so close to the heart of the Empire had drawn countless undesirables to their cause too, making the task of routing the disruptors to the Emperor’s harmony all the more difficult. The men were tired. The horses exhausted. The column had stretched out as the baggage train had slowed, the oxen close to collapsing. Some of the men, veterans and recruits alike, complained openly and while no-one had yet spoken against Lu directly it was only a matter of time.
The road south cut through thick forest nearer the Celestial Capital and flat farmland nearer to Xiangpi. Under the forest canopy the sun’s heat had been diminished but out on the farmland there was no such luxury and the further south Lu Liang’s army marched the hotter and more humid the climate became.
Colonel Fei Yiling rode to the head of the army, sidling close on his white mare. ‘General, the men are weary. Some units have stopped marching and nothing will make them march anymore.’
‘Have you tried everything?’ General Lu asked, not because he wanted the colonel too but because it was his duty to know.
‘No…’ Colonel Fei lowered his head, his dark narrow eyes peering into the black mane of his white mare.
‘Would it be a normal march then I would reprimand you but seeing as the pace has even me panting I will relent,’ General Lu said. At that moment he spied a crop field that had failed, the ground was hard, dry, and clear. It was not enough space for a whole encampment but it prevented too much crop land from being destroyed. He leaned to the Captain of the Army, ‘See that open field?’
‘Yes, General,’ the Captain said, a young man with an oversized helmet.
‘We will camp there for the night. Make certain any crop land used is harvested first, we cannot afford to damage the farmland,’ General Lu ordered.
The Captain saluted and whistled for his horse to turn. He galloped back along the road to liaise with the camp builders.
General Lu brought the army to a standstill as the logistics were carried out. ‘Colonel Fei, see that the troops do not wander into the fields.’ He continued to stare into the distance as he spoke, then up to the cerulean sky. There had been no travellers on the road, no farmers, no merchants, as if Xiangpi and the cities and towns near it were sealed shut or the roads closed. He had heard of no pronouncement and that only meant the rebels had done it. By his reckoning they were three days from Xiangpi, three days from laying siege and bringing justice and stability to the Empire. Three days, Lu Liang could think of nothing else.
Wen Bei awoke to the sounds of hammering and wood chopping. He no longer shivered, no longer was he drenched in sweat. He asked his sentry about the celestial dragons but the man had heard of no such sightings from anyone else. Wen Bei had been chosen to know, chosen amongst all his men to carry the burden of saving the dynasty. He ordered water to be brought so he could wash. As he did so he noticed the sores over his body were now scars about the size of copper coins. Dozens if not hundreds were scattered over his body, with a handful across his face. Whatever vile illness he had survived almost no-one else had. Over 30’000 men had been infected when they had crossed the final river, of those ten thousand had already died and a further five thousand were expected to before the next day. Another 20’000 had fallen ill while those like Wen Bei who had survived were few and all had been scarred.
He left his tent to see the camp was far smaller than he expected, with great sections sealed off by guards fully wrapped in linens save for their eyes. Wen Bei was in a truncated section of the camp reserved for those who had recovered, while the bulk of the camp was a collection of triage tents. The rest was for the still healthy. Each area was prevented from crossing into each other with armed guards dividing the three sections. General Wen was not eager to risk his troops, nor contract the disease again, so he left the camp entirely with a pair of guards who kept their distance and in turn he kept his.
Work on the dam was slow but progressing. The River of Fallen Stars surged through the valley, the melting snows high on the western mountains mixed with heavy spring rains making the river run high and swift. Enormous willow trees leaned over the river valley with long trailing branches thick with leaves like a sage’s beard. Men were shifting rocks and wood into the river, the nascent attempt at diverting its flow. Wen Bei overlooked the work but he did not interfere, the walk had winded him and he had grown aware that his robes and armour no longer fitted him snugly. A warning was shouted followed swiftly by a deafening crack, a rustle of leaves, a thud and a quake of the earth. Another tree had been felled and the wood workers were already swarming over it, hacking off the branches and straightening the top and tail. Wen Bei clambered back from the sloped ledge, using the angled trunks of the weeping willows to steady himself. The pair of bodyguards kept their distance and guided him back to camp by a circuitous route. Wen Bei struggled to catch his breath and each step became weaker, more of a slide along the flattened earth path. If he was to destroy the rebels he needed to be hale, and for that he needed rest.
Once back at camp and in his own tent he removed his armour and lay down. Sleep was quick to snatch him away.
General Zhou Shang rode at the head of his paltry force. Twenty-five thousand men, many suffering from minor injuries, and none too few from major ones, marched or rode behind him. Platoon Chiefs had been promoted two or three ranks, to Major or Colonel, due to the significant losses. In an afternoon Zhou Shang had gone from having the most experienced force to the least.
Of the three hundred mangonels a mere ten remained, only two hook carts remained, and none of the cloud ladders had survived. The worst loss were the moat bridges, without it they would have to work to fill in the moat around Xiangpi and that would take days under constant assault. Thousands of screens had been constructed for the siege and none of those had survived the fire ambush either, those at least his engineers, at least those who survived, could build swiftly. Mangonels and moat bridges were an impossible burden on the remaining men. He would give the order anyway, it was up to his men to figure it out and for Heaven to inspire them.
The valley road since the ambush was barren and charred. The cliffs had shrunk too but from what Zhou could make out all of what was above him had been scorched as well. Where once would have been plentiful berry bushes and fruit trees, along with small animals and nesting birds, was reduced to cinders. Food was going to become a problem, Zhou Shang knew, even though the ambush had failed to ignite the bulk of the grain and salt. He was thankful for that but without deer, birds, and whatever else to hunt the men would grow weary of porridge. The rebels had prepared themselves far better than Zhou had expected, than anyone had expected and for the first time since setting forth from the Celestial Capital he felt his confidence in victory falter.
Xiangpi shone on the horizon, the ancient city had not crumbled like its ancient empire had, and it struck General Lu Liang that it was larger and more formidable than even the Celestial Capital. The walls were wide enough at the top for a cart to be pulled along by two horses, the base of the walls twice as thick, and so high that Lu was uncertain his siege towers were tall enough. Peaked rooves of storied temples glistened crimson and gold in the sunlight while soldiers, well armed and armoured, patrolled the walls with stout spears. Cavalry units of between ten and twenty men made sweeping searches of the surrounding plains. Fresh stumps clogged the land were the forest had been chopped back three li.
General Lu had camped in the forest, ten li from the rebel stronghold, and he was thankful he could not hear the logging. He stayed a hundred strides from the edge of the forest and observed along with his two lieutenant-generals and a handful of his colonels. He had not expected such organisation and was regretting having the head of his army clustered in the trees without support.
‘I don’t see how we can siege that city alone,’ Colonel Fei Yiling, his beard had grown wild on the forced march making him look like a vagabond.
‘My engineers can construct three moat bridges wide enough for a siege tower each and with mangonel support we can storm the walls. From there it’s easy enough. The people, seeing the Emperor’s army, will rejoice and fight alongside us,’ Colonel Dong Jia said.
Colonel Fei snorted but said no more. He scratched his chin, his beard glistening in the southern heat.
‘Keep your thoughts to yourselves until we are back at camp. If those mounted patrols catch so much as a syllable we’re dead,’ General Lu Liang spoke with a monotone as he observed the nearest gate open. A fresh mounted patrol cantered out but none entered before the gate was closed. ‘We should go, the patrols are thickening.’ The general turned and began traipsing back towards the horses, tied to apple trees a short distance away. The lieutenant-general’s and colonels followed, the only sound coming from the rustling of the undergrowth.
Palisades surrounded the camp with a pair of watch towers at each of the four entrances. Rows and rows of tents filled the interior with cooking pits every ten tents. Soldiers milled to and fro, some drilling, others on watch, others off duty. Carts piled high with recently felled tree trunks rolled into camp, heading straight for the builders to craft extra siege equipment. The din of activity was a sea of calm for Lu Liang, it meant everything was going as intended.
Lu Liang and his colonels headed for the command tent to mull over their observations. Eager to make additions and alterations to the centuries old maps the Imperial Library had provided the general quickened his pace. Within two days he wanted the siege to begin so that when General Zhou and General Wen reached the city there would be no delay in the assault. He found it strange that he had yet to hear from either of the other armies and hoped the rebels hadn’t intercepted any missives.
Zhou Shang, General Who Quells Uprisings, spied the grand city of Xiangpi on the horizon framed by the valley walls. Short, gnarled, trees grew along the steep rises, buffeted by summer winds and winter blizzards to grow almost horizontal. Upon seeing the rebel stronghold Zhou lost heart. He continued forwards, continued to think through the upcoming siege, what he knew of Xiangpi and the rebels, but he knew he looked upon the place of his death. Even if, by Heaven’s Will, Generals Lu and Wen had arrived without a single loss the sheer scale of the walls meant a frontal assault would cost half the army at a minimum. Luring the enemy out was the better strategy but the rebels had coalesced in Xiangpi, abandoning all other positions to pose a real threat to the Celestial Capital and the Son of Heaven himself, so a great many tricks were made moot. Zhou Shang would perform his duty to the best of his meagre talents but he knew the end was near, he knew the Empire had lost Heaven’s favour.
Thanks for reading. Part 2 will be posted next Tuesday.