The wind blows but never dies
The reed bends but never breaks
This is the way of things
Wind and reed go on
The contest is endless
War, by Gueng Ji
The urgent calls of the scouts echoed back across the wide valley. Jai glanced sidelong at General Jiang, who nodded in response. Both urged their mounts forward to intercept the agitated riders, leaving behind the bulk of the men. The column stretched on for almost three miles, despite being well spread out to the sides, given the ease of the shallow and bare terrain. An immense force that shook the world with their passage. The earth sizzled in the sun, baked dry, the grass brown and unhealthy. Dust rose in endless clouds about the booted feet of the infantry, and only the cavalry astride their mounts and the officers at the front escaped the choking miasma.
These were two of the Jade Emperor’s armies now, that of the southern prong having met up and joined forces with General Jiang’s column a few days earlier. The numbers were quite awe-inspiring to see, and Jai had watched the force move like a silver centipede across the dusty brown world with awe, certain that no army on earth could stand against them now. And what would it be like when the northern army joined them, he wondered? That being said, they had heard nothing from the north in over a week. While that was quite explicable and reasonable given the difficulty of the mountainous terrain there and the distances involved, Jai had found himself in darker moments wondering whether the vicious bandit chiefs in the north might be strong enough to face an army of the Jade Empire. He had kept his worries to himself, though, not wishing to concern the general, who was dealing with the lack of communication stoically.
Still, even without the northern army, the sheer size of the force was mind-boggling. Jai glanced over his shoulder as he started to move, casting an impressed gaze over the dust cloud and the great colonizing force within it. The only troops to ride at the front of the column with the commanders were General Jiang’s Crimson Guard, resplendent in gleaming silver cuirass and all-red uniform beneath, right down to the wicked painted wooden face masks of the helmets, cunningly formed into the shape of legendary demons.
As Jai and the general kicked forward, the Crimson Guard split into three wings, accompanying their master on both flanks and to the rear.
The scouts – men serving in the same role as Jai had occupied just months ago – reined in on a narrow roadway between two fishing pools and bowed their heads respectfully.
‘What is it?’ the general asked in a businesslike manner as he hauled on the reins and stopped before them.
‘Enemy sighted, General.’
‘Inda?’
‘Imperial, General.’
Jai felt the world lurch beneath him. They had heard that the western armies had crossed their border, of course. News of such magnitude travelled fast, after all. And it was not even as though he and the general had not been expecting something like this, but he’d never thought it would happen so soon. He was not sure he’d ever be prepared to hear such tidings, mind, and suddenly the unpleasant truth of the situation impressed itself upon him. While they had been conquering, annexing and negotiating with Inda lords, it had felt surprisingly glorious and simple. It had been something of an adventure. It had not truly felt like a war. This changed things entirely. The empire would not capitulate or be so easily overwhelmed.
‘So soon?’ General Jiang replied, mirroring Jai’s feelings perfectly.
The scout simply nodded.
‘They have moved with impressive speed, then,’ the general mused. ‘I had expected to come within perhaps fifty or a hundred miles of their border before a major reaction. They cannot have moved thoroughly through Inda territories as we did, securing each land. They have not had time. Jai, what is your assessment of their motives and methods?’
Jai pursed his lips as he thought on the matter. ‘If they are not consolidating as they go it means they have focused on a goal, and that goal is almost certainly us. They have ignored all else in a rush to confront us. They are not intending to control the Inda, they are just coming to oppose the forces of the Jade Emperor.’
The general nodded. ‘Quite so. This imperial general is focused, as you say, and it is on us that he is focused, which concerns me. He has come fast and direct for one reason, Jai: Jalnapur.’ Jai nodded, realising what that meant. In the excitement of the news, he had forgotten quite where they were. Less than a mile away, at the end of the valley, lay Jalnapur, the fortress palace on the Nadu River. The only feasible crossing for an entire army throughout its great north-south length. It was the key to the west of the Inda Diamond. Or conversely, the lock, if you were an imperial general intent on preventing Jade Empire expansion.
‘I had assumed we would be across the Nadu before we met them,’ Jai said quietly.
‘I too,’ the general replied, ‘but the wily enemy general has sacrificed security to his rear in order to reach this place before us and secure it. It is, I fear, a failing in our culture that we are sometimes unable to think in such fluid terms. The empire has bred intuition out of its sons in return for total obedience. It is our strength, but I sometimes fear it is also our curse, as seems to now be the case. Our latest reports suggest that we outnumber the enemy two to one – though that cannot be confirmed until I see them with my own eyes – which would give us a tremendous advantage in the open field. But at a bridge? A determined man with a hardened force could hold a bridge against superior numbers for a very long time indeed. The only sure ways to dislodge an enemy from such a position are either by trickery and subterfuge or by simply throwing men and resources at it in swathes and hoping that a gap opens up in the midst of the killing.’
‘I do not like the sound of the latter,’ Jai replied.
‘Quite. That would reduce our forces, even if we win, to unmanageable levels. But sadly the former is not likely. This general is clearly sharp. I doubt he would fall for trickery. Which leaves us with two equally unpleasant possibilities. Either we settle in for a long fight and a war of attrition, or we accept that this is the furthest we go and seek another path somewhere north or south. Again, the former is not to be wished for, but the latter is the sort of decision that makes heads fall off back at the imperial court.’
Jai sighed. ‘So what do we do, General?’
‘We try everything we can short of direct assault. To begin with, we have two advantages: numbers and artillery. Numbers only come into play when attrition becomes the killer or in open field warfare. But artillery? In my understanding, the westerners rely upon torsion projectile weapons, launching bolts and rocks like backward barbarians. We, however, have cannon. Before we commit men to an endless war, we try everything, and first we see if we can pulverise them into submission.’
He wagged a finger in the air. ‘But before we attempt any kind of action, we need to meet with them. However strange these western men might be, they are said to be civilised, and civilised men talk before they draw a blade. If there is even a hope that we can resolve this without vast bloodshed, it is our duty to do just that.’
Jai nodded, and without further pause the two men rode for Jalnapur, the scouts accompanying them and the Crimson Guard retaining their protective formation. The valley was wide, the seasonal stream at the centre long since dried for the year, and the collection of horsemen rode easily around the long, gentle curve until the vale opened out into the wide floodplain of the Nadu River. The vast swathes of bright green crops here were an odd sight after so many days of parched brown vegetation, and the general held up a hand to stop them at the edge of the great plain.
The enemy were visible a mile away as a huge mass of shapes scattered over the flat land on the far bank, though it was near impossible to pick out much detail at this range. Jai wondered why the general had stopped, and waited as Jiang rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
‘Such wide fertile plains are not simply fed by one river, no matter how large. The Nadu floods, Jai.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Is it a simple matter of meltwater in the spring, or the effect of the monsoons of which I hear?’
Jai frowned. They had never suffered seasonal flooding in Initpur, at least not on the scale it was witnessed in Jalnapur. The area was too dry and hilly. They had seen occasional burst river banks and the like at home, but nothing that did more than surprise a few farmers and cattle. He tried to think back on what he knew of the Nadu and the central Inda lands from his father and grandfather.
‘There is meltwater flooding – we see it in Initpur – but that is not responsible for this fertile land. This is certainly because of the monsoons.’
He’d heard of such weather, of course, even if it did not affect life in the northern hills. Dreadful, incessant rain so hard it tore through leaves and sent animals running for cover, flooding the low-lying ground and making it dangerous for months, then incredibly fertile for half a year. Fragile structures were washed away within monsoon months, the unwary drowned, plains flooded…
He caught the look in the general’s eye.
‘Monsoon season is already upon us,’ he said nervously. ‘It is unusual, I think, that it has been dry this long.’
‘So we can expect to be subject to deluges in the coming days, and these flat lands separating us from the western empire’s army will become a quagmire, or possibly one great lake.’
Jai peered out across the plain. The imperial troops beyond the river had deployed on the flat ground near the bridge. Were they unaware of the possibility of monsoon, or were they not concerned about it? Was their general even half as clever as Jiang seemed to expect?
‘This terrain and the season could effectively nullify our artillery advantage,’ the general sighed.
‘Sir?’
‘We can field men down there facing the enemy, much as they have, but we cannot place the cannon there. Their weight and the pressure they exert upon discharge make them unstable on soft ground, and they are too unmanageable to move swiftly if the rains come. It takes half an hour to remove them from their cradles and load them onto carts, and the oxen draw them away slowly too. We could find ourselves fleeing for high ground in a growing inundation and not being able to bring the cannon with us. It is an unpleasant choice to make. The artillery are either effective and at extreme risk, or they are safe and largely ineffective. I do not mean to lose my cannon and the advantage they grant, which means that we must deploy the cannon on the valley sides, here. They might still be able to touch the enemy, but it will be at maximum range. I shall be interested to see what the enemy have done with the disposition of their forces, given the terrain and potential flooding.’
He turned and called to one of the Crimson Guard officers.
‘Wait here with your men. As the army arrives, have the cavalry move to the north and position themselves for my return. The bulk of the infantry should deploy at the edge of the plain before us here. Have the cannon masters site their weapons on the ridges facing Jalnapur and the bridge. No weapon is to be within twenty feet of the flood plain’s level. I shall return shortly.’
The officer saluted and, accompanied by the remaining two thirds of the guard, Jai and the general rode down to the flat, fertile fields, selecting a low, wide causeway that carried a road to the bridge. By necessity the horsemen pulled in, moving four abreast at most. Despite the potential danger of riding directly into the enemy’s sight, the general insisted upon leading the way, the Crimson Guard at their back, and Jai took in every detail of the field of battle as they approached.
The Nadu River was almost half a mile across, a vast force of water cutting through the land like the wavy blade of a sacrificial knife. The bridge – a grand, decorative, white stone edifice – was one of the greatest structures ever built by the Inda. A feat of art and engineering both, linked to a causeway on both sides that rose above the common flood level, it was famous even in Initpur. The fortress palace, and the connected walled city of Jalnapur, rose on the far bank beside the river, again on ground high enough that the rising waters during monsoon season could not flood the streets. The palace itself, walled only low on the river side, was one of the most breathtakingly beautiful buildings Jai had ever seen, all ornate windows and arches and graceful balconies in white and gold with delicate turrets twisting up into the blue. Interestingly, there was no sign of imperial military on its walls.
The enemy forces were scattered. Though they had appeared one great mass from the far bank, the truth was clearer from close up. The enemy general had deployed his forces carefully, using every facet of the landscape, some close to the bridge and the river bank, others further back. Missile troops were clearly stationed close to infantry in small groups to support one another. Each area of manpower had been fortified with low earth banks, wicker fences and shields of timber lathes. An impressive feat. And another example of how different these westerners were. That they split their force up into such small units of a thousand, even a hundred men, and yet trusted them to follow a plan. The force of the Jade Empire simply could not function like that. The chain of command had to be in place. Without senior commanders passing the orders down, disseminating like ripples along a cobweb, the ranks of men would be uncertain and unable to act appropriately. Did the westerners have command capability even at such low levels? But in a way, Jai could understand how. In the east there was one branch of the military that functioned in such a way, and he was intimately familiar with them: the scouts.
Here and there, Jai could see earth mounds with wooden structures and machines atop them, and it took him moments to realise what they were. The imperial general had solved his artillery issues by having his men raise artificial hills upon which the machines were placed. Unless floodwaters rose high enough to submerge the bridge, his machines would be safe on islands amid the lake. Jai was impressed, and so, judging by his expression, was General Jiang. Perhaps this man was as astute as the general had thought after all. Jiang was right: these westerners took chances, thought outside rigid lines.
They rode onto the bridge slowly, Jai’s heart beginning to pound nervously. There was a myriad of odd noises from the forces spread across the far bank, and any number of them could signify those great bolt throwers preparing to loose deadly missiles, as far as Jai knew. He could picture himself or the general being plucked from their horses and hurled back into the guardsmen’s ranks, dead on impact.
Even as an academy-trained master swordsman, with a passing knowledge of the art of cutting arrows from the air, there was no form invented by man that could save a man from artillery fire. He shuddered, but no great arrow came.
The two men, backed by an army of demon-faced, red-clad riders, came to a halt halfway across the bridge and waited. It took some time, but finally a man on horseback emerged from the imperial forces, six gleaming riders in white tunics and silvered scale shirts behind him. The man was dressed in a similar white tunic, but with a cuirass of bronze decorated with two embossed stallions, a ribbon of red tied around his chest and a cloak of crimson hanging from his shoulders. He was a serious-looking, heavily built man.
The enemy commander rode onto the bridge confidently and reined in a dozen paces from the Jade Empire’s officers.
‘A grand day for such an auspicious meeting,’ the man said in the imperial tongue. Jai quickly translated it in his head. Their language was well-known to many of the Inda, for imperial traders had journeyed well beyond their border for centuries. Jai opened his mouth to translate for the general and was surprised when Jiang replied in perfect western imperial, with just a slightly odd oriental accent.
‘We must make the most of such clement weather,’ his commander said, conversationally. ‘I understand the monsoon season is overdue.’
Small talk. Jai frowned. It seemed odd to hear in the circumstances.
‘The monsoons will make warfare difficult,’ the imperial general replied. ‘Perhaps even impossible. They last for up to three months yet, or so I am told. This could be a very slow, dull, wet season.’
‘But with remarkably little blood,’ Jiang noted. ‘Perhaps we should pray to our respective gods to send us monsoons at their earliest convenience.’
The imperial general laughed.
‘Now would that not be something? For us to inform our emperors that war was cancelled on account of rain.’
Now General Jiang chuckled too. ‘I am not convinced that such an excuse would satisfy the Jade Emperor. Nor, from what I hear, your emperor Bassianus.’
The man nodded. ‘I am Flavius Cinna, commander of the imperial expeditionary force.’
‘How grand,’ smiled his opposite. ‘An expedition sounds so much more pleasant than an invasion. I am Xeng Shu Jiang, general of the Jade Empire’s Inda occupation force.’
‘And there, in a nutshell,’ replied Cinna, ‘is where the problem lies. My master is not content to sit back and allow the Jade Emperor to occupy the lands of the Inda.’
Jiang nodded. ‘I understand, though I am at a loss to understand his reasoning, beyond the simple desire for war. Your empire constantly invades and annexes lands, and the Inda owe you no fealty. As such, any move against us is a simple act of aggression and cannot be considered an attempt to preserve the Inda’s sovereignty.’
Flavius Cinna nodded. ‘Let us not descend into accusation. I would like to think we are above such things.’
Jiang smiled. ‘Good. Let us put forth our positions succinctly so that we can move on to the unpleasant business of crushing one another’s forces. I am here with my army at the behest of the Jade Emperor with a remit to annexe all lands of the Inda from the northern boundary with the horse clans to the forbidden lands in the south, and as far as the Oxus River, granting us a solid border with your empire, across which we can trade and coexist peacefully. If you will remove your forces beyond the Oxus and leave the Inda to us, there need be no further conflict.’
Cinna straightened in his saddle. ‘Similarly, the emperor Bassianus, Light of the West, Child of the Divine, First Citizen and Father of His People commands that the illegal invasion force of the Jade Empire remove themselves beyond their former border and abandon all land conquered from the Inda. If you comply with this simple request, I shall withdraw imperial forces, the Inda shall once more be free and there shall be no war.’
The two men sat silent for a moment.
‘Of course, neither of us can accept the other’s terms,’ Cinna said eventually, ‘because we are both bound by duty to our emperors and neither of them is a man given to bending to the will of another. You will understand that I cannot defy my master’s orders, and I am aware that the same applies to you. And so we are at an impasse. An impasse that can only end in victory for one of us.’
‘Or mutual destruction,’ Jiang said wearily.
‘Indeed. You have an advantage of numbers, but I fear that the terrain nullifies that. I am an expert at not sacrificing men unnecessarily, and there are a large number of reinforcements being gathered from several sources. The outcome here is far from certain.’
‘Then we should most definitely pray for the monsoons,’ Jiang said with an odd smile.
‘I have no wish to open a conflict. We are here in order to help prevent conquest, not to bring death unduly. Thus we shall withhold action until the first of your men sets foot within fifty paces of the bridge,’ Cinna announced, ‘excepting, of course, yourself, your adjutant and your fearsome guard. You may return to your army unmolested.’
Jiang inclined his head. ‘I am afraid I can make no such promise, given that your force is already close to the bridge. Parley is complete, I believe. Now the war begins. It is a sad and rather shameful war, and I deplore my part in it, but duty is duty, and I must commit. It has been a pleasure, General Cinna, and a shame we could not meet under more peaceable circumstances.’
The imperial general saluted casually. ‘Would that the emperors sought out our ears rather than we theirs, eh? War it is, then. Good luck, General Jiang.’
‘And you, General Cinna.’
The Jade Empire’s commanders turned and began to ride back across the bridge. Once they were out of earshot, the general pulled in beside Jai.
‘What did you learn?’
Jai frowned. ‘Their commander is clever and noble. Perhaps even a match for you,’ he added hesitantly.
‘Indeed. I thought as much myself. And he is as unhappy about this meeting as I. This conflict will be long and difficult, I think. He has no more wish to throw away lives than I. What else?’
‘His army is curiously spread out across the plains, with reserves at least as far as the slopes a mile beyond the river.’
‘Yes. He has positioned his army carefully to make it almost impossible for us to accurately estimate his numbers or strengths in terms of any particular class of troop. And they are highly mobile like this. He can have large numbers of men at the bridge, the riverbank or the town at short notice, and equally can have them retreat to high ground speedily. The man has dug in with remarkable speed. Did you see his supply wagons?’
‘No,’ frowned Jai.
‘They were on the hill in the distance – just visible, but clearly still arriving. That suggests that Cinna’s army has been here for little more than a day. Two at the most.’
Jai whistled through his teeth. ‘And in that time he has raised artillery mounds and dug in and fortified. He is quick. And shrewd.’
‘But despite the fact that he claims to oppose us and have no interest in the Inda, I note that there were no Inda allies visible among his forces, and he has seemingly not occupied Jalnapur. I do not think the Inda are any more supportive of him than they are of us, for all his words. However, we cannot consider the town a weak point. They will be no more inclined to welcome us than the western empire. And you can be sure that Cinna has artillery in positions to cover any approach across the water to the town.’
‘What do we do, then, General?’
‘We start to test them. We keep our forces well back from the river and use the cannon, even at full range. And we need to determine the strength and range of their artillery. I loathe the very idea of sacrificing men, but we must know their capabilities if we are to plan a strategy. Come on.’
They rode back across the causeway and the flat land to the slopes half a mile from the river, where the army was currently falling into formation. There would be no hiding their numbers from General Cinna, though that seemed less important in the grand scheme of things. Unless something unexpected had happened, both Jiang and Jai knew they outnumbered the enemy by a good margin, and Cinna knowing that could only help.
The two officers waited, tense and silent, at the best viewpoint – a sandy ridge two thirds of the way up the slope – while the army deployed. It would take half the day for the vast force just to move out into the valley, but Jiang had defied usual military convention and had the cannon positioned just a third of the way along the column rather than at the rear, so the great artillery pieces were already finding positions and being unloaded and assembled within the hour. Once six cannon were positioned in a line along the hillside, and others still being brought forward, Jiang rode across to them, gesturing to the officer in command of those artillery pieces.
‘I want two shots from each gun,’ he commanded. ‘A full barrage of six at a time. Have each artillerist pick a position among the nearest of the enemy, and coordinate with each gun crew so that no two select the same target. I understand that there will be some need to find range with the first shot and I am content that many of them will disappear into the river, but I must make one thing clear: no shot is to touch the bridge. We cannot afford to damage the crossing, or the west is lost to us.’
The officer saluted and General Jiang rode back down to Jai. ‘Now we see whether our cannon can reach the enemy. It is a stretch at such a range.’
There was a long pause, during which the sounds of thousands upon thousands of infantry and cavalry settling into position echoed across the valley side. Finally, a runner approached the two officers, bowing deep and delivering the compliments of the artillery commander. He was ready. General Jiang had the flag waved, and the two men watched, breathing slowly and expectantly.
The cannon fired almost simultaneously, one gun slightly behind the others. Jai concentrated on the results, but in his mind’s eye he could imagine that gunner being upbraided by the officer for his tiny delay.
The whole valley fell silent as the boom echoed across the hills and up and down the Nadu River.
It was hard to keep track of all the shots, and Jai saw the results of only four of them. Two disappeared with an eruption of water somewhere in the middle of the river. One struck the side of the causeway leading up to the bridge and bounced off at a tangent, carving a path through crops and coming to rest some way short of the river. The fourth shot actually came down on the far side of the river, ploughing into the ground some ten feet or so from a position of enemy troops behind their earth bank and wicker shields.
‘Pray the second volley improves,’ muttered the general to Jai, ‘or we can consider our advantage a waste.’ The two men waited, tense. Across the valley nothing moved. The shock of the barrage had stopped everyone. Just visible half a mile away, citizens of Jalnapur had gathered at the low river wall to watch with horrified fascination. None of these people would have seen cannon in action before.
The second volley was in perfect time, six shots resounding with one retort. Jai held his breath as the great stone missiles arced out into the sizzling air. Once more he lost track of some of them. Two more vanished into the depths of the Nadu. One scored a long trough through the ground on the far bank. The fourth he saw strike the turf mound protecting a small imperial unit. The bank exploded in a shower of brown dirt that was thrown into the air to a height of three men. A similar cloud off to the left told Jai that one of the ones he’d lost track of had also hit. Both targets were within perhaps twenty paces of the river. No shot had yet gone beyond that, but still, it had to have the imperial soldiers shitting themselves that the Jade Empire had weapons that could reach across the valley and the river from the very periphery and still kill.
When the clouds of earth settled, Jai was disappointed to note that the missiles had simply dislodged earth and thrown it into the air as they embedded themselves, and had not torn through the banks and into the units behind. The cannon had clearly thus far brought them no closer to success. General Jiang’s face was bleak as he turned to an officer standing nearby.
‘Order a unit of scouts to cross the causeway and approach the bridge. They will be placed in grave danger for some time, but that cannot be helped. Their bravery will be noted in dispatches and reflected in rewards. They need to get close enough to the bridge to draw enemy missiles. The imperial general said that he would not loose artillery until we were within fifty paces of the bridge, so the riders need to get close enough to open hostilities. As soon as the enemy shoot at them, they need to plant a red spear in the ground. They will then trot their horses back to us ten paces at a time, planting a spear in the ground each time until the enemy missiles stop coming. That will give us some indication of their effective ranges. Jai, keep a careful watch. I imagine their catapults will have the longest range, and their bolts will stop loosing first.’
Jai sat astride his horse on the bluff and watched as a unit of one hundred scouts on horseback, drawn from the Jade Empire’s northern badlands, trotted out onto the causeway, closing on the bridge. He peered tensely into the distance as the riders neared the great white crossing. His breath was shallow, nervous.
He’d been waiting for it, of course. They all had. And yet the response almost unhorsed him, so much did it make him jump. The western empire did not have black powder. Nor cannon nor rockets. Nothing that made a loud, impressive bang. And yet here and now the artillery of General Cinna brought a lump to Jai’s throat.
They made no noise. Not at this distance, anyway. Probably closer to the bridge they could be heard, but from up on the ridge they were more or less silent, especially compared to the noisy cannon. The enemy artillery were so well spread out across the far bank that Jai had not thought there to be many. Cinna’s response to the riders disabused him of that notion immediately.
Unexpectedly, given the lack of accompanying noise, Jai watched in horror as around a hundred imperial missiles converged on the scouts. The result was utter carnage. Great iron bolts as long as a man’s arm transfixed horse and rider alike. Balls of stone as large as the ones the cannon released pulverised men and beasts. And as if that were not enough, two great pottery jars smashed into the ground amid the unit and exploded, sending out burning pitch in flying, scorching droplets.
Jai’s eyes were wide. The hundred horsemen were gone. In five heartbeats two hundred living, proud creatures had become a mass of mangled, burning limbs, thrashing and screaming. There was no way artillery of any sort could be that accurate without some practice. Clearly the imperial artillery had been on site long enough for every artillerist to find and mark his range.
Jai’s horrified gaze turned to the general, whose face was stony.
‘Lesson learned,’ Jiang said in hoarse tones. ‘Do not underestimate General Flavius Cinna.’