The Commander

 

The men cheer and thump one another’s shoulders.  My horse scents the water, throws his head up and dances a little. 

“Ah-Shan,” Shao Ru says beside me.  “When we get down there, I’m going to take all my clothes off and jump into that water stark naked.”

“I might just join you,” I say.

We grin at one another.  We’re both dog-tired, dirty and unshaven, like everyone else.  But we’ve made it.

As we get down into the valley, we have a surprise.  I was expecting to find a large village but didn’t expect it to be built literally out of the hillside on the opposite bank of the river.  Some of the dwellings are carved out of the rock.  Others are built of stone.  A stout defensive wall runs along the base of the hill.  There are two watch-towers and a very impressive gate.  The river bed’s shallow here and there’s a ford of stepping-stones.  Somebody’s put a lot of planning into this.

The men and horses spread out along the river bank.  The horses’ noses dip gratefully into the water while the men shout and splash their heads in glee.  I can see people moving on top of the wall and in the watch-towers.  They see our banners, the gate opens and three people come out.  Shao Ru and I walk our horses forward through the river to meet them.  Their leader’s a man of about forty, handsome and prosperous-looking.  He salutes us and introduces himself as Cui Wen, the village head-man.

“Had any trouble?” he asks, his sharp eyes scanning the weary troops.

“Bandits.  They wiped out a village a day’s march south of here.”

“Green Hill Village?  Wiped out?”  They look at one another in consternation.

“No survivors.  We buried them.”

Cui Wen’s face is ghost-white.  “This is ….shocking news …. a great sorrow.  Many of us had friends and relatives there.”

“The bandits attacked us yesterday and we killed most of them.  We can discuss this later but now I need to know where we can camp.  My men need to rest.”

Cui Wen quickly gets a grip on himself.  “Yes, yes, of course.  A little way downstream the valley opens out.  You can make camp there.  Perhaps later you will do this humble person the honour of visiting him.  Anyone in the village will show you my house.”

“The honour will be mine.”

The column reassembles and moves off downstream.  As Cui Wen has said, not far away there’s a wide green space.  We set up camp.  Cooking fires are lit and the smell of food rises.  The men are hungry, thirsty and exhausted, but the animals are in relatively good shape, considering.  A couple of days’ rest and we’ll all be good as new.

It’s not long before dusk falls.  The last thing I feel like is a social call, but I have to see Cui Wen, so grumbling under my breath, I set off on foot.   I cross the river at the ford, lit up by torches burning on each side of the gate.  The village has dark narrow streets.  The lamps have been lit, but there’s no-one around.  The sound of soft weeping can be heard from many houses.  The news about Green Hill Village has spread.  I find the Cui family house with no trouble.  It has a small courtyard planted with bamboo in troughs.  A maid shows me into the reception room, where Cui Wen rises to greet me and invites me to sit.  The maid serves me wine.  Her eyes are swollen and red.  As she leaves, Cui Wen says, “Please excuse my humble servant.  She had a sister in Green Hill Village.  Nearly everyone here has some connection.  My wife’s brother was head-man there.  Tell me what happened while you eat.”

Food arrives and is very welcome, the wine even more so.  I’m aware that the whole sorrowing household may be listening, so my account leaves out the more painful details.  I then recount yesterday’s attack on the troop. 

“How many did you kill?” Cui Wen asks.

“Fifty-four.”

“Good, good.  They have a stronghold upriver.  We estimate their full strength to be around sixty, so they’ll have been crippled by this.  I’ve been thinking about smoking them out for some time, but we have too few men and horses.  But now might be the right time.  Perhaps with your help…..?”  He looks at me hopefully.  “There’ll be no-one left there except a few men and the women and children.  I hardly dare ask, but it would be a great service to all the villages around here.”

“How far’s the stronghold?”

“Half a day’s ride.”

I realize why this village is so well-defended.  “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow,” I say, “Have you heard any news from the capital?”

“All we’ve heard is that the Emperor’s unwell.  But if you want more detailed news, Lord Zhao Qian at Eagle Rock has better sources of information.  Are you going that way?”

“Yes, Eagle Rock’s on our route.”  This is a name I know from the secret messages I’ve been receiving from Minister Li.  “I don’t know much about Zhao Qian.  Have you met him?”

“No, he doesn’t see anyone.  He’s reputed to be in poor health.  But several villages in that area are under his protection.”

The wine’s gone to my head and I’m suddenly bone-weary.  I make my excuses, thank Cui Wen for his hospitality, cross the river again and trudge along the riverside path back to the camp.  The river gurgles and mutters peacefully.  Most of the men are asleep.  There’s a light burning in my tent.  I push the flap open, walk in, and find the Sixth Prince asleep on my bed.  My befuddled mind can’t quite grasp the situation at first.  Then I see the tray of bandages and ointments beside him  and I realize that he’s been waiting to treat my injuries.

I cough.

His eyes open slowly and his face shows the dazed look of the very tired.  He sees me.  And then he smiles.  He sits up and rubs his eyes.  Then he remembers where he is and an appalled look comes over his face.  He leaps off the bed, grabs the tray and says, “Sorry, I was so tired.  I just thought I’d close my eyes for a while, but….”

I’ve had time to master my reaction.  “That’s all right,” I say, walking forward.  “Sort me out and then you can hop off to bed.”

I start to fumble with the straps of my wrist-guards but my fingers aren’t too nimble.  Also I’m carrying a roughly-bound sword slash on my right arm from yesterday’s fight.

“You didn’t get this seen to.”  The Prince's voice sounds concerned.

“Too much else to do.”

 Without another word, he takes over from me.  He unstraps the wrist-guards, lifts off my leather chest-armour and starts to untie the stained binding on my arm. 

“Perhaps if you sit?” he suggests.

I sit.

The blood from the wound has dried, so both the binding and my sleeve are glued to the skin.  The Prince heats a little water and uses it to soften the dry blood.  The binding comes away relatively painlessly, but the wound starts to seep again.  The Prince whips my tunic over my head, pats the blood off  the wound, which fortunately isn’t deep, then uses the rest of the water to clean it.  Then he reaches for a jar on the tray.

“This is Doctor Liang’s magic wound ointment,” he says, with a hint of a grin.  “You’re allowed to yell.”

Ah-Zhou’s wound ointment is effective but famously painful.  I don’t yell, but my eyes water as the Prince applies it to the wound and then reaches for bandages.

“How are the ribs?” he asks.

“Painful.”

“How did you manage to fight with a cracked rib?”

“With difficulty.  Luckily nobody knocked me off my horse this time.”

“You’ve got another wound here,” he says, his fingers on my side.  “Are there any more?”

“Left leg above the knee.  Not deep.”

More of the magic ointment goes on my side.  Then the Prince gets behind me on the bed and winds more bandages round the ribs and over my shoulder.

“The bruise here has gone yellow,” he remarks.  He reaches for another bottle and starts to massage my left shoulder.  Fatigue is starting to overcome me.  My eyes close all by themselves.

“How long can you keep doing this?” he asks quietly.  “Before you get killed?”

I’m startled out of my doze.  “I’m a soldier.  This is what I do.”

“Are you going to be a soldier all your life?”

“No, I don’t suppose so.  At some point, unless I get promoted to General, I’ll probably quit.”

“And what will you do then?”

“I have a country estate not far from the capital.  I’ll go there and become a gentleman of leisure.”

“What sort of estate?” he asks interestedly.  He finishes dealing with the bruise, gets off the bed, kneels and starts to roll up my left trouser leg.  More warm water’s needed to soak the material off the wound.

“Biggish.  Near a river.  Good soil.  A lot of fruit trees.  I haven’t been down there for years, but I have a manager who runs the place.  There’s a house too, quite big, with a shady courtyard.”

“Sounds nice,” he says, rather wistfully.

I wince as more ointment is applied.  Then the bandage goes on and I’m sorted.  The Prince sits back on his heels.  “If things weren’t the way they were,” he says softly, “and I wanted to join the troop, would you accept me?”

He's taken me by surprise yet again.  “Without hesitation,” I say.  My throat’s a little constricted.

“I want to thank you,” he goes on, looking up at me in the candid way he has, “In these past months, you’ve given me a life.  I never thought I’d have that.  I wanted to tell you how grateful I am.”

And going on one knee, he cups his hands and bows his head in a graceful gesture of thanks.

Every bone in my sore tired body wants to grab him in a crushing embrace and hold him safe, but I’m his commanding officer, I can’t do that, so I bend to take his elbows to make him rise and at that precise moment, the tent flap lifts and Liang Zhou comes in.  His eyebrows shoot up, but the Prince rises calmly, unaware of the turmoil in my mind, so the embarrassing moment passes.

“I’ll take my leave,” he says, bowing to us both, and out he goes.

“What was all that about?” Liang Zhou looks at me with his brow furrowed.

“Thanking me for giving him a life.”

Liang Zhou groans.  “What are we going to do?  We can’t let him….”

“I know.  I know.  I’m trying to think of something.  The head-man wants us to go and smoke out the bandits’ hiding place and I just want to sleep for two weeks.  Where’s your herbal stuff?  Give me oblivion.”