The horses were lathered despite the cold March air, but they made it to a larger fort by dusk. The commander assured them that the message had already been relayed, and that the general would be expecting them. They pinpointed the location of the enemy on the commander’s tactical map so that he could prepare more specifically. Now Jes and Ned could relax, briefly, and get some needed rest. They were given supper and bedding for the night.
“Why couldn’t you have been Wildflower?” Ned complained as they settled down under a joint blanket.
“Same reason you couldn’t be Ittai,” she returned archly.
They snuggled close together, sharing warmth, as they had done from childhood. They had always been best friends as well as closest siblings. They didn’t mind seeing each other naked, and they shared and kept each other’s secrets. On occasion they had problems with their spouses, which they could discuss with each other and ameliorate. When Ned was hurt because Wildflower declined love one night, Jes reminded him about the female cycle. “Cramps are bad enough, without that.” When Jes was furious because Ittai didn’t remember the date of their first meeting, Ned told her that he remembered when Lin brought Wildflower home, but he couldn’t tell the date of the month that had happened. “We men don’t mean any harm. It’s just not the way our minds work,” he explained, and she realized it was so.
The next day they rode the rest of the way to the main camp, where General Weng was hastily assembling his forces. They were ushered immediately to him to make their report.
“They seem to have circled the end of the wall,” Ned said. He did the talking, being the man. “Now they are coming this way, in force.”
“Damn those empire bureaucrats!” Weng swore. “If they hadn’t cut our funds, we would have had that wall complete by this time.” He was right, of course. Sam and Dirk were out of work at the moment because the money to pay the wall builders had run out. Fortunately they could also fight, or work on the farm. “How strong are they?”
“I didn’t see their full force, only a contingent. But the nature of their formation is suggestive of a full-scale invasion.” He was being cautious, but he would not have said that much without being almost certain that there was indeed a full army following the Mongol vanguard.
“Go secure your premises and report to Hsan-fu.” Weng turned away, already barking orders at lesser officers.
They left. The general was nothing if not efficient.
Another hour brought them to the farm, which was by the Nan-yang River near the Hsan-fu fortress. It wasn’t much, and this was the fallow season, but Flo was doing her best to instill some fertility in the soil. They were working to divert some of the river water to flow to the farm for irrigation. Sam and Dirk had dug a contour channel most of the way to the garden. But that work had to stop during this crisis.
They hastily closed down their operations and took their valuable horses and supplies to the fortress. Hsan-fu was large and well situated, guarding a pass through the hills. The Mongols would have to take it to secure their route; otherwise they would be vulnerable to harassment from their rear. Despite this certainty of attack, it was the safest place to be, because the countryside would be governed by the Mongol horsemen. Once sure of the safety of the others, Sam and Dirk armed themselves and went to report to their combat units.
By nightfall they were safely in the fortress, crowded into their makeshift temporary billets along with the other farming families of the region. As a general rule, the farmers did not mix with the troops, because the officers considered themselves above the farmers, and the prisoner conscripts were apt to be rough and uncouth. That was one reason the farmers were being given shelter within the fortress: the military discipline kept the troops from molesting them. Many soldiers were also farmers, on the military farms, but these were often unsuccessful, because the soldiers lacked the desire, patience, and aptitude to make the soil productive. Their own family was unusual in its mix, with warriors, designers, and builders all part of it. But that was because they had made it a point to keep the family together, never allowing it to fragment. It traveled as a unit, finding strength in its internal variety. Many Chinese families were unified through the generations, but their own mixture of classes was remarkable.
Jes found herself seated beside her younger sister Lin as they ate their gruel. Lin was fifteen, and blossoming into by far the loveliest member of the family. Ned’s Mongol wife Wildflower was somewhat better developed in the torso, and had lustrous black hair, and Sam’s wife Snow was much better endowed, but Lin had a youthful delicacy of face and feature that made men and women alike pause. She ran errands among the troops without trouble, because men were inclined to protect her rather than molest her, and for any man who might feel otherwise, there were several who would come quickly to her rescue if any hint of a need arose.
But Lin was plainly unhappy at the moment. She was silent, and her eyes were somewhat puffy; she had been crying.
Jes did not look at her directly. “I don’t wish to pry,” she murmured.
“It’s Li,” Lin said, sniffling.
Jes sorted through her memories. Li was a neighboring youth of relatively good family, husky and handsome. Evidently there was a romance in the offing. “Li,” she agreed.
“He saw my hand.”
That said it all. Jes freed a hand and put her arm around Lin’s shoulders. The girl turned into her bosom and quietly sobbed.
Lin was beautiful, but that six-fingered left hand might as well have been a third eye, considering the effect it had on the superstitious. She usually wore a mittenlike glove on that hand, and in winter that was easily justified. But it was hard to hold hands with a boy without evoking an unkind reaction. The members of the family were used to it, and thought nothing of it; all Lin’s fingers were functional, and she could work cloth quite well. Yet outside the family—
Then Jes had a notion. “There are men who are not handsome, yet who are worthwhile,” she murmured. “Look at Sam. Look at Dirk.”
“Look at Ittai,” Lin said, a glint of humor interrupting her misery.
“All right. My husband’s not young or handsome, but his wealth makes our lives halfway comfortable, and he’s certainly a good man. Suppose you considered someone like that?”
“Oh I wouldn’t want to take Ittai from you.” The mood was definitely lifting, in the rapid way possible to youth.
Jes closed her hand and gave Lin a light punch on the shoulder. “Thank you for that favor, Sister dear. You know what I mean. Suppose there were a good man, who had some fault not of the mind or personality, but of the body, that made other girls reject him? He would be like you, in that respect. You would know exactly how he felt.”
“Yes, I would,” Lin agreed, wonderingly. “I never thought of that before.”
“He might be a future Sam, or Dirk, or Ittai. Or Ned. You need to learn to see beyond the superficial.”
“I’ll try,” Lin agreed. Then she disengaged and ate her gruel with more gusto. But she glanced back at Jes, mischievously. “You need to have a baby.”
Jes was careful in her reaction. “Why?”
“Because then maybe you’d have enough bosom to cry into, as Flo does.”
Jes laughed. “I’ll try.”
Next morning Weng’s troops massed outside the fortress, bracing for the onslaught of the Mongols. The incursion had happened so suddenly that the Chinese force still was not complete or fully organized. The signal system had allowed Weng to track the Mongols’ progress into Chinese territory, but they were moving so swiftly that the scattered defensive forces had not had time to gather. The Mongols, inveterately clever warriors, had surely planned it that way, quietly slipping through and massing until discovered. The Mongols understood the signal system perfectly; in fact they destroyed the towers at every opportunity. It was a sign of its effectiveness that the clever enemy had not been able to nullify it more than partially.
Sam and Dirk marched, but neither Ned nor Je
s was allowed to join the main army. “You are too competent to risk in the field,” Weng had said gruffly. “I need your designs for construction.” That was Ned. “And an accurate bow to defend the fortress.” Jes. The general knew her nature, but saved her face by not mentioning it. She suspected that her husband had made a deal with him, to keep her out of mischief. Ittai was of course too old for combat. That was a private comfort. But not too old for command, so he was in charge of one of the outlying forts.
However, the fortress did need defending, and she was good with the bow, so she didn’t object. She reported to the wall foreman, who assigned her to the crew defending the north gate. The packed earth ramparts had been enclosed by stone and topped by small towers, just as in the walls themselves, and seemed formidable enough. But Jes had seen Mongol attacks before, and took nothing for granted. With luck, Altan Khan had not brought siege equipment along ‘this time, and would not make a really determined effort. Not while being harassed by Weng’s army. Otherwise the fort could be in real trouble, because the Mongols knew how to take down a wall by pulling out a few stones and mining out the dirt that was its core. The point was to prevent the Mongols from ever having the chance to do that.
So why hadn’t they built all the walls out of solid stone? Because it was said that it took a hundred men to do in stone what a single man could do in packed earth. The walls needed to be done quickly, before the Mongols attacked again, and there simply was not enough manpower to accomplish that. Even if there had been more men, there was not the money to pay them, because only a fraction of Weng’s sensible estimate was actually provided by the stingy empire. So most of the work was in earth, just as it had been in the past.
Jes wished that the emperor could be sent out here for a few months, to endure the hardships and see the impossibility of accomplishing enduring construction with the resources provided. But the emperor was too interested in Taoist mysticism to bother with such practicalities. So those in charge of the defenses had to struggle through inadequately, hoping they could stave off the Mongols one more time.
Well, the family had sought protection from the Mongols. This frontier post had not been their preference, but the present Chinese administration simply did not trust them enough to let them farther in. Jes actually liked it well enough, because there was adventure and responsibility here, but the others would have preferred a farm in the rich river delta to the east. Maybe once the walls were finished, it would be allowed.
Extra arrows from the armory were distributed, because it would not be feasible to recover expended ones. If the enemy charged the wall, there would be flaming tar poured out, too. It would be expensive for the Mongols to take this fortress. But not as expensive as it would be for the defenders, if the Mongols succeeded. It would be better to die to a man—and woman—before that happened. Certainly they would not trust any Mongol assurances about a truce. Not out here in the combat zone. If the emperor ever got sensible and made a trading pact with the Mongols, as they wanted, then it might be all right. But the Ming dynasty had been founded by those who drove out the Mongols from the rule of China, and that animosity might take centuries to fade. So common sense gave way to abiding hatred and contempt.
Nothing happened on the first day. But the second day, the Mongols drove back Weng’s army. Ned was right: they were here in force. Weng had to retreat to the fortress. His losses were not great, but he did not have enough force to defeat the Mongols in open battle. However, more of his troops were arriving daily, and his reserves were growing.
The Mongols were aware of this. They knew they had to take Hsan-fu quickly, or be at an increasing disadvantage. Now they laid siege to it.
The arrows came in sheets. Jes and the other bowmen took cover behind the towers. They would fire back when the Mongols tried to charge.
But a number of the arrows were blazing. They arched high, their target the interior of the fortress, where they would set anything flammable afire. Their burning pitch was almost impossible to extinguish; the arrows had to be grasped by their shafts and buried in sand. There were crews for that purpose, and they were busy now. But it was dangerous, because many regular arrows still rained down, catching those who were exposed. So it was necessary to have a shield-bearer protect an arrow-fetcher. This slowed down the work, and some blazes did start.
The Mongol horsemen charged the wall, under the cover of another ferocious volley of arrows. This was what the defenders had been waiting for. Protected by their shield-bearers, they stood and fired at the men outside. They had the advantage of height, and of being stationary, and of planning. They made their arrows count. The closer the Mongols came, the easier targets they and their horses were. The fire from the fortress became punishing indeed.
The Mongols swerved away before reaching the wall. But the defenders did not cease. Jes took careful aim at the back of the nearest horseman, and put an arrow through it. He had light armor, but at this range it wasn’t enough; her arrow penetrated, and he fell from his horse. She was already orienting on another.
The Mongols set up catapults and hurled heavy rocks into the fortress. These were dangerous, as there was no way to stop such missiles. But Weng sent a detachment out to attack the catapult crews specifically, and soon those were silenced.
This was the pattern for two days. But by then the rest of Weng’s forces had assembled, and were closing in on Altan Khan’s army. The Mongols had battered the fortress but failed to take it, and now they were forced to withdraw.
They tried the old Mongol trick of false retreat, but it didn’t work. Weng brought sufficient resources to bear to defeat the enemy when it turned, and the retreat became real.
Reports came constantly back to the fortress. Weng’s forces were still getting stronger as units arrived, while the Mongols had no backup. It became apparent that this was not a major Mongol invasion, but more of an exploratory incursion. Had it been able to take the fortress, then Altan Khan would have been well situated to invade China at his convenience. Since the surprise raid had not succeeded, all he could do was go home and plan something else.
There were several other engagements, and Weng’s forces prevailed in them all. The Mongols were definitely being driven out. The defenses had held.
Jes chafed at the inaction. She had few enough chances to fight, and with the fortress no longer under siege, there was no action here. So when one of the messengers collapsed from a wound, she slipped in and took his place. The commandant didn’t see her, or perhaps pretended not to. Thus she “returned” to the general’s camp, riding a swift horse. This was more like it; there might yet be some combat.
But there was not. Scouts had verified that the Mongols were circling the wall to the east, going back to Mongolia. The Chinese would remain vigilant until quite sure, but the chances were that this raid was over.
Disconsolate, Jes prepared to be sent back to the fortress. But as she dawdled near the edge of camp, looking for any pretext not to check in properly and be discovered, a motion caught her eye. Someone was firing an arrow at her!
She turned her horse as she brought out her own bow. But the Mongol ambusher was already in full gallop, streaking away. She would have little chance to catch him, and he would only lead her past an ambush anyway.
Besides, she realized that he hadn’t intended to strike her with the arrow. The range had been such that he could have winged her; no Mongol was that bad a shot. The arrow had landed in the ground right in front of her horse. It had a peculiar thick shaft. Almost as if—
She hastily dismounted and went to fetch the arrow. It was! It was a message. There was a scroll wrapped tightly around the shaft.
She knew better than to unwrap it. She remounted and took the arrow directly to General Weng.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded as he spied her.
“Bringing you a message arrow,” she said serenely, presenting it. “It landed in front of my horse.”
He took it and unwrapped it. “‘If
trade is not resumed, I will attack Peking in the autumn. ALTAN KHAN,’” he read. Then he looked up. “It has his seal. It’s authentic. The man wants to trade. So do I. But will the emperor listen?”
The question was rhetorical. None of this warfare would have happened, if the emperor had been willing to listen to reason. But the message would be sent on to Peking anyway.
The question of whether only plump women can conceive babies is not simple, but studies have shown that the truly lean ones, such as athletes or the malnourished, do have that problem, and may suspend menstruation. There does have to be a certain minimal amount of body fat, or nature shuts down that particular apparatus. With the poor local diet of the time, the poorer women could have had a problem, while the better off ones did not
The message to Peking was not heeded. Like many other leaders, the emperor preferred to fight, at whatever internecine cost, than to make a reasonable settlement.
Within three months Weng was promoted to minister of war, so he never saw the end of his building project. Then his father died, and he retired to his home in Kwangtung, in southern China. The Mongols attacked again in 1550, coming through a broken section of wall north of Ta-t’ung. They drove away all forces arrayed against them, and came again to the fortress Hsan-fu. But once again they were unable to take that fortress city. There is a suspicion that they were bought off by bribes by Weng’s less-competent successor. At any rate Weng’s double-wall frontier had held.
So Altan Khan went around the walls—a long way around. He took his army east all the way to the sea, where he was able to skirt the defense. Then he descended onto the plains around Peking. He drove away the Ming cavalry arrayed against him, and raided and ravaged within sight of the city walls. The sky was filled with the smoke of burning fields and estates. Only when they were good and ready, did the Mongols return to the steppe.
The emperor really should have agreed to resume trade.