The Prince
There’s not much of the night left after the Commander leaves my wagon, but I snatch a few hours’ sleep and emerge next day, yawning, to hear the news that a fourth woman and the guard she seduced have been caught trying to escape. Overcome with shame, the guard has committed suicide. The woman has been executed. Despite the warmth of the summer day, I’m chilled to the bone. There’s been nothing but killing for days. The scent of blood seems to hang in the air.
The Commander’s wasting no time. Tomorrow we’re moving on, but today Lady Sun and the other rescued women are to be escorted back to Green Hill Village. I’m not part of the escort, but I see Mo Jiang and Wu Shun set off with the Commander. The group includes pack-horses laden with supplies which the army has donated to help the new village get on its feet. Unburdened by wagons, they’ll be travelling fast and the escort is expected to return by nightfall. There’s nothing much for me to do, once I’ve helped Liang Zhou check up on the condition of the injured men. I try to get a few hours’ more sleep, but I’m disturbed by memories of last night.
I’d only just fallen asleep when I sensed movement and felt searching hands on my body and hot moist lips pressed to mine. My violent reaction knocked the girl to the ground and gave me time to scramble for the flint and light a candle. Then I saw the knife in her hand. We faced each other across Liang Zhou’s medical table, on which I’m sleeping. She looked desperate and was holding the knife all wrong. I heard the Commander’s voice yelling “Guards!” followed by more shouts and commotion. My brain started to work and I shouted too, then the wagon was full of people and the girl was disarmed and dragged away. To her death, as it turns out.
I should be used to seeing people die by now, but those summary executions shocked me. The most persistently disturbing thing is the memory of that kiss. I wipe my lips repeatedly, as if to erase the sensation.
It’s an odd sort of day, disjointed and uncomfortable. I can’t wait to get away from this place. The escort comes back on time and in good order. Supper’s prepared and we’re allowed a ration of wine. This time I drink it. We sit round the campfires and talk, but there’s little laughter. I’m sitting with Mo Jiang and the other Young Masters. Suddenly the Commander appears and we scramble to get up but he stops us and sits down with us. He and Shao Ru have been going round all the campfires to say a few encouraging words to the men. Now it’s our turn.
“It’s been a difficult few days,” he says, “but I’m very pleased with the way you’ve coped. You’ve all lived up to my expectations. We’ll be following the river for the next few days and then we’ll be striking out across the plains towards Eagle Rock. We expect to get supplies from the Master there, Lord Zhao.”
“Is Eagle Rock a village?” Mo Jiang asks.
“It’s a large estate, but Lord Zhao has a number of surrounding villages under his control.”
“What about bandits?” asks Wu Shun.
“We’re unlikely to meet any between here and Eagle Rock because we’ve just wiped out the main nest and Lord Zhao has cleared the lands around his estate. But there might be the odd lone wolf looking for trouble, so don’t let your guard down.”
“Yes sir,” we chorus together.
“Good. Don’t get up.” He rises and goes off to the next camp-fire.
He’s pleased with us. The wine suddenly tastes sweeter.
Later, I head over to the Commander’s tent to see to his injuries. They’re all healing nicely. Even the dreadful bruise has nearly gone. As I re-wind the bandages around his ribs, I ask, “How did it go today, settling those women?”
“Fine. Lady Sun’s very competent and several of the women know how to handle swords. They’ll be all right. I had a word with Cui Wen. I told him to give them any support they need and said I’d be back to check that he’d kept his word.”
“Will you be able to do that?”
“No, but he doesn’t know that.” He chuckles.
“I can’t wait to get away from here,” I say, knotting the bandage and reaching for the bruise ointment.
“Neither can I. How’s that bruise doing?”
“Pale yellow now. A bit of green here and there.”
“Green?”
“Just kidding.” It’s my turn to chuckle as I gently rub the ointment in.
“Brat,” he says.
The bruise is taken care of.
I say, “I was reading one of Doctor Liang’s books and there was a relaxation technique I thought might be useful. Can I try it?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
I put my hands on each side of his nape and start to press into his back with my thumbs. At first, the muscles are like iron under my touch, but as I persist, they start to loosen up. It’s really hard work.
“Is that helping?”
He says, “Mmmm.”
That sounds promising, so I carry on.
Suddenly, the tent flap’s pushed aside and Liang Zhou comes in. He stops abruptly and a look I can’t quite identify flashes across his face. But a second later, he comes forward with his usual smile and says: “I thought I’d just pass by and check on progress.”
I hastily scramble off the bed and start to assemble my medical supplies, while Liang Zhou takes the Commander’s wrist in order to feel his pulse. Liang Zhou looks up at me. “I’ll take it from here, Young Master. Off to bed with you.”
“Yes sir.” I bow and leave, feeling that something isn’t quite right.
In the morning, we’re all up before dawn, eager to be off. Our road lies along the river, so blessedly, there’s no need to worry about water for the time being. The sun’s shining and everyone’s in a good mood. I’m needed in the medical wagon, so I can’t ride with the men, much as I'd like to. But just being on the move again feels great. Mid-way through the afternoon, the procession of injured men stops, so I ask Liang Zhou if he still needs me, preparing to get on my horse and ride off to find Mo Jiang in the column.
But Liang Zhou says, ”Well, as a matter of fact, there’s something I'd like you to do.” He opens a drawer and takes out an old manuscript. “This book’s falling apart, so I wondered if you’d mind copying it for me?”
My heart sinks. I want to be outside, not copying some boring old text.
“Can I start tomorrow?”
“No time like the present,” he replies, in a voice that reminds me depressingly of my former tutor.
What’s all this about?
Glumly, I find paper, brushes and the ink-stone and settle down to the task. I haven’t even got the excuse of the wagon being too bumped around, because the road we’re on is as smooth as silk. So it’s not till we make camp that afternoon that I’m released. Liang Zhou looks at my work and smiles. ”Your handwriting’s excellent, Young Master Yan. Thank you.” As I prepare to leave, he adds, “By the way, the Commander’s wounds are almost healed. There’s no need for you to attend to him any more.”
I turn round, surprised, but Liang Zhou seems to have nothing more to say. But for an instant, I think I see a fleeting look on his face which could be – is it? – discomfort.
To my disappointment and frustration, this pattern repeats itself every day as we trundle slowly down the river valley. As soon as I finish one medical text, Liang Zhou finds another which needs re-copying. Fortunately, as soon as we camp each day, I’m let off the leash and can catch up with archery and combat practice or ride out with Mo Jiang and the others. But I find myself missing those comfortable sessions in the Commander’s tent each evening.
Relief comes suddenly one day, soon after we leave the river valley and strike out across an area of grassy plains that stretch as far as the eye can see. The dim shapes of mountains are visible in the far distance. The grass waves in the wind, over gently-rolling hills which conceal unexpected woody dells, streams and small lakes. It seems to be an empty world, but there’s a good road running through towards the mountains and every now and then an Imperial courier thunders past on his way north or south. I’m settling down to my dismal task when a shadow appears at the entrance to the medical wagon. It’s the Commander.
“Young Master Yan,” he says, “Do you want to go hunting?”
Do I want to go hunting? Does he have to ask?
I leap up, scattering paper right and left, and jump out of the wagon before Liang Zhou even has time to react. My horse is tethered to the tailgate as usual, so I don’t have far to go. My heart’s thumping. This is a huge privilege.
There are six of us: three experienced hunters, the Commander, Wu Shun and me. We strike out away from the column into the vast expanse of grassland. Arrow’s as excited as I am and I have trouble holding him in. Wu Shun and I exchange delighted glances as we canter side by side. It's intoxicating to get into the fresh air and sunshine, away from the slow methodical progress of the column.
I’ve never hunted before and neither has Wu Shun, so it’s all new and thrilling. We’re after antelope. This is hunting for food, not for the thrill of the chase. We find a water-hole and the hunters show us the different tracks at the water’s edge and identify them for us. We tether the horses some distance away. Then we take cover down-wind, within arrow-shot, and settle down to wait. In a low voice, the Commander says, “We’re doing what natural predators do. They hang around places where the prey’s at a disadvantage. That means the animals are very wary when they come down to drink. You usually only get one shot, so make it count. It’s best to pick an animal that’s old or injured, as wolves do. Otherwise choose a young male. Don’t kill the females or the young or the dominant male. Aim for just behind the shoulder and don’t panic.”
He adds, ”This is excellent practice for laying ambushes.”
We wait. In fact, we wait for a considerable time and I’m about to fall asleep when everyone suddenly stirs. A group of antelope is approaching the water-hole. They advance very carefully, step by cautious step. It’s a mixed group, with several half-grown young. One beast is limping noticeably. We all look at one another and nods are exchanged.
The Commander leans over and taps Wu Shun’s shoulder. Wu Shun nods, licks his lips, reaches back for an arrow and takes careful aim. The arrow flies true and the shot beast leaps in the air, takes a few limping steps and drops. The others scatter in panic, the young ones bouncing in fright as they follow their mothers. The Commander pats Wu Shun’s shoulder in congratulation and Wu Shun grins triumphantly. I give him a thumbs-up. I’m really pleased for him, as well as (let’s face it) more than a little envious.
“The smell of blood will keep others away for a time,” the Commander says, “so we’ll move on.”
The hunters go down to retrieve the carcass. The horses are brought over and the carcass is loaded onto one of them. Then we all mount up and ride on.
We see more antelope in the distance, but there’s no way we can chase them, they run far too fast. It’s an ambush or nothing. However we put up a flock of partridges and the hunters bring a few of those down. Wu Shun and I have a go, but moving targets aren’t easy for relative novices like us. The dead birds are gathered up by one of the hunters, who brandishes them with a grin. “Lunch,” he says.
At noon we stop and make fires. Wu Shun and I are detailed to pluck the birds (which takes longer than you’d think) and are shown how to gut them and cut them up. The hunters carry long metal skewers. Two are stuck in an X shape in the ground at each side of the fire, while a fifth skewer is laid across the top with pieces of partridge impaled on it. The Commander explains how to improvise from twigs if need be. He tells us that food can also be cooked on a flat rock over a fire, in a pot with water, or in a pit, but that this last method requires more time. As we eat the crisp pieces of partridge, I understand why being invited to join a hunting party is considered such an immense privilege by the soldiers.
The afternoon finds us lying in wait at another water-hole. I know it’s going to be my turn to have a shot and I’m nervous. We don’t have to wait long. Another small herd arrives, stepping delicately down to the water. There’s a young male standing out to the left of the group. The Commander indicates to me that that’s the one. I fit an arrow and try to focus my concentration as I did during the archery competition. Time seems to slow down, I pull back, aim and release the arrow. It hits the mark, the antelope staggers forward and he’s down. As before, the other animals scatter in panic, while Wu Shun thumps me on the back and the Commander says, “Well done.”
We start off back towards the column, Wu Shun and I feeling like heroes from ancient legends. But overconfidence is my undoing. A little further on, we put up more partridges. I foolishly drop the reins and grab my bow, but as yet more birds explode from the undergrowth, Arrow panics and before I know what’s happened, I’m dumped and land on my back with a solid thump. I always wondered why people talk about seeing stars, but now I know. I see stars. I thresh about, dazed, but the Commander’s off his horse and kneeling beside me, pushing me back down.
“Keep still, you might have broken something.”
He feels my skull and jaw, and then moves my head from side to side.
“Can you raise your arms?”
I can. His hands firmly enclose my rib-cage, then my waist, and continue downwards to my hips.
Suddenly an indescribable feeling springs from my lower body and ripples upwards. I can’t help making a sound like a gasp and the Commander pauses, frowning. “Does that hurt?”
I have the presence of mind to shake my head and the hands travel on quickly down to my knees, ankles and feet. I become horribly aware that I‘ve got what the Young Masters light-heartedly refer to as a stiffie. I pull my knees up in an effort to hide my embarrassment and mutter, “I’m all right. Just a bit shaken.”
“Take a minute to clear your head.” He gets up. The others are still mounted and somebody’s caught my horse.
“All right?” He reaches down, pulls me to my feet and cups his hands to help me back on the horse. I mutter a shamefaced thanks and reach for the reins. I feel like a complete idiot. The Commander pats my foot consolingly.
‘Don’t worry about it,” he says.
I’m not quite sure what he’s referring to, but then he adds, “Everybody takes a fall now and then. Remember the jiju game?”
My embarrassment gradually subsides as we ride in leisurely fashion towards where we estimate the column’s current position to be. Conversely, the ache in my back increases. But I suppose I was lucky not to have landed on my head.
