Forgotten Realms - Empires 02 - Dragonwall

VIP免费
2024-12-04 0 0 687KB 190 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
1
The Minister's Plan
The barbarian stood in his stirrups, nocking an arrow in his horn-and-wood
bow. He was husky, with bandy legs well suited to clenching the sides of his
horse. For armor, he wore only a greasy hauberk and a conical skullcap
trimmed with matted fur. His dark, slitlike eyes sat over broad cheekbones. At
the bottom of a flat nose, the rider's black mustache drooped over a frown that
was both hungry and brutal. He breathed in shallow hisses timed to match the
drumming of his mount's hooves.
As he studied the horsewarrior's visage, a sense of eagerness came over
General Batu Min Ho. The general stood in his superior's roomy pavilion, over
a mile away from the rider. Along with his commander, a sorcerer, and two of
his peers, Batu was studying the enemy in a magic scrying basin. Physically,
the barbarian looked no different from the thieving marauders who
sporadically raided the general's home province, Chukei. Yet, there was a
certain brutal discipline that branded the man a true soldier. At last, after
twenty years of chasing down bands of nomad raiders, Batu knew he was
about to fight a real war.
Batu forced himself to ignore his growing exhilaration and concentrate on
the task at hand. Staring into the scrying basin, he felt as though he were
looking into a mirror. Aside from the barbarian's heavy-boned stature and
coarse mustache, the general and the rider might have been brothers. Like
the horseman, Batu had dark eyes set wide over broad cheeks, a flat nose
with flaring nostrils, and a powerful build. The pair was even dressed similarly,
save that the general's chia, a long coat of rhinoceros-hide armor, was no-
where near as filthy as the rider's hauberk.
"So, our enemies are not blood-drinking devils, as the peasants would have
us believe." The speaker was Kwan Chan Sen, Shou Lung's Minister of War,
Third-Degree General, and Batu's immediate commander. An ancient man
with skin as shriveled as a raisin's, Kwan wore his long white hair gathered
into a warrior's topknot. A thin blue film dulled his black eyes, though the haze
seemed to cause him no trouble seeing.
By personally taking the field against the barbarians, the old man had
astonished his subordinates, including Batu. Kwan was rumored to be one
hundred years old, and he looked every bit of his age. Nevertheless, he
seemed remarkably robust and showed no sign of fatigue from the hardships
of the trail.
Resting his milky eyes on Batu's face, the minister continued. "If we may
judge by the enemy's semblance to General Batu, they are nothing but mortal
men."
Batu frowned, uncertain as to whether the comment was a slight to his
heritage or just an observation. An instant later, he decided the minister's
intent did not matter.
Settling back into his chair, Kwan waved a liver-spotted hand at the basin.
"We've seen enough of these thieves," he said, addressing his wu jen, the
arrogant sorcerer who had not even bothered to introduce himself to Batu or
the others. "Take it away."
As the wu jen reached for the bowl, Batu held out his hand. "Not yet, if it
pleases the minister," he said, politely bowing to Kwan.
Batu's fellow commanders gave him a sidelong glance. He knew the other
men only by the armies they commanded—Shengti and Ching Tung—but
they made it clear that they felt it was not Batu's place to object. They were
both first-degree generals, each commanding a full provincial army of ten
thousand men. In addition, both Shengti and Ching Tung were close to sixty
years old.
On the other hand, Batu was only thirty-eight, and, though he was also a
first-degree general, he commanded an army of only five thousand men. In
the hierarchy of first-degree generals, the young commander from Chukei
clearly occupied the lowest station.
Nevertheless, Batu continued, "If it pleases Minister Kwan, we might benefit
from seeing the skirmish line again."
Kwan twisted his wrinkles into a frown and glared at his subordinate.
Finally, he pushed himself out of his chair and said, "As you wish, General."
Batu was well aware of the minister's displeasure, but he was determined
not to allow an old man's peevishness to drive him into the fight prematurely.
The surest way to turn a promising battle into an ignominious defeat was to
move into combat poorly prepared.
The wu jen circled his bejeweled hand over the basin, muttering a few
syllables in the mysterious language of sorcerers. As the barbarian's face
faded, a field covered with green-and-yellow sorghum appeared. Along its
southern edge, the field was bordered by a long, barren hillock. A small river,
its banks covered with tall stands of reeds, bordered the northeastern and
eastern edges. Swollen with the spring runoff from far-away mountains, the
river was brown and swift.
The only visible Shou troops were Batu's thousand archers, who had
formed a line stretching from the river to the opposite side of the field. Each
man stood behind a chest-high shield and wore a lun'kia, a corselet that
guarded his chest and stomach. Made of fifteen layers of paper and glue, the
lun'kia was inexpensive and remarkably tough armor. The archers' heads
were protected by chous, plain leather helmets with protective aprons that
covered both the front and back of the neck.
Even through the scrying basin, Batu could hear the tension in his officers'
voices as they shouted the command to nock arrows. The archers were
unaccustomed to being left exposed, for in previous engagements the general
had always supported them with infantry and his small contingent of cavalry.
This time, the rest of Batu's army was hiding behind the hill, along with twenty
thousand men from the armies of the other two provincial generals. These
reinforcements were ready to charge over the hill at a moment's notice.
The archers were bait, and they knew it. If the battle proceeded according
to Minister Kwan's plan, the barbarian cavalry would sweep down on them. As
the horsewarriors massacred the archers, the twenty-four thousand rein-
forcements would rush over the hill and wipe out the invaders in one swift
blow. The plan might have been a good one, had the horsemen been the
unsophisticated savages Kwan imagined.
But the enemy showed no sign of taking the bait. So far, all they had done
was ride forward and shoot a few arrows. When the archers returned fire, they
always turned and fled.
As Batu and the others watched, a subdued and distant thunder rolled out
of the scrying basin. A moment later, two thousand horsemen rode into view
on the northern edge of the field, five hundred yards from the archers. At first,
the dark line advanced at a canter. Then, at some unseen signal, all two
thousand men urged their mounts into a full gallop.
The minister and the generals leaned closer to the scrying basin, watching
intently. Two hundred and fifty yards out, the barbarians began shooting. Few
of the shafts found their marks, for firing from a moving horse was difficult and
the range was great. Still, Batu found it disturbing that any of his men fell, for
he did not know a single Shou horseman who could boast of hitting such a
distant target from a galloping mount.
Although they were equipped with five-foot t'ai po bows that could match
the barbarians' range, Batu's archers held their fire. They had been trained
not to waste arrows on unlikely shots and would not loose their bamboo shafts
until the enemy had closed to one hundred yards. The horsemen continued to
advance, pouring arrows at the Shou line in a haphazard fashion that,
nevertheless, dropped more than a dozen of Batu's men.
Finally, the horsewarriors came into range. The Shou fired, and a gray blur
obscured the scene. A thousand arrows sailed over the sorghum, finding their
marks in the barbarian line. Riders tumbled from their saddles. Wounded
horses stumbled, then crashed end-over-end as momentum carried them
forward after their legs had gone limp.
Through the scrying basin, Batu heard the screams of dying men and the
terrified shrieks of wounded horses. It was not a sound he enjoyed, but
neither did it trouble him. He was a general, and generals could not allow
themselves to be distressed by the sounds of death.
The Shou archers fired again. Another gray blur flashed across the field,
then more shocked yells and frightened whinnies drifted out of the basin.
"Look!" said Shengti. "They're not breaking off!"
He was right. The barbarians had ridden through two volleys of arrows and
were continuing their charge. Batu's stomach knotted just as if he were
standing with his men.
"Shall we attack?" asked Ching Tung. He had already turned away from the
scrying basin and was moving toward the door.
Noting that none of the riders were drawing their swords or lances, Batu
grasped Ching Tung's shoulder. "No!"
As Ching Tung turned to face him, Batu continued, "They're only testing our
formation's discipline. If they had intended to finish the charge, they would
have drawn their melee weapons by now."
Ching Tung's eyes flashed. He started to say something spiteful, but the
thunder in the scrying basin suddenly died. The resulting quiet drew all eyes
back to the pool. The generals saw that the enemy horsemen had reigned
their mounts to a halt at fifty yards. Batu would have given ten thousand silver
coins to know how many more barbarians lurked out of the scrying basin's
view. It was a question he knew would not be answered. Kwan's wu jen had
already explained that his spell had a range of only two miles.
Another gray blur flashed over the field as the barbarian riders fired in
unison. The Shou archers, who had been drawing swords and preparing to
meet the charge, were not prepared for the attack. Dozens of arrows struck
their marks with quiet thuds. Over a hundred men cried out and fell to the
flurry.
Batu's troops were well disciplined, however, and a volley of Shou arrows
answered a moment later. Another wave of terrible screams and whinnies
followed, and the general from Chukei could almost smell the odor of fresh
blood.
For several minutes, gray clouds of arrows flew back and forth as the two
lines traded volleys. At such close range, arrows penetrated armor as easily
as silk. Hundreds of Batu's men fell. Some remained silent and motionless,
but most writhed about, screaming in pain and grasping at the feathered
shafts lodged in their bodies.
After every volley, a few Shou survivors threw down their weapons and
turned to flee. Without exception, they were met by officers who cut them
down with taos, single-edged, square-tipped swords. Batu disliked seeing his
officers dispatch his own men, but he detested watching soldiers under his
command turn coward and flee. As far as he was concerned, those who
dishonored him by running deserved to perish at the hands of their own
officers.
Another Shou volley struck the barbarian line. Hundreds of men fell from
their saddles or leaped away as their wounded horses dropped thrashing to
the ground. Batu noticed that behind the enemy line, no officers waited to cut
down cowards. There was no need. Despite the heavy casualties, not a single
barbarian panicked or fled.
"The barbarians outnumber our archers two-to-one," observed Shengti.
"Why don't they finish their charge?"
"Because they are unsophisticated savages who have never faced soldiers
as disciplined as those in the Army of Chukei. They are frightened," Minister
Kwan responded, gracing Batu with a commending smile.
Despite the compliment, the old man's rationalization alarmed Batu. If
Kwan could not see that the enemy was as well disciplined as any Shou army,
he was not fit for his position.
"Minister Kwan," Batu asked, "was the Army of Mai Yuan not disciplined?"
He inclined his head slightly, trying to make his point seem a genuine
question.
"The enemy took Mai Yuan by surprise," Kwan responded, an edge of
irritation in his voice. "General Sung could not have known they would breach
the Dragonwall."
"If I may," Batu responded, taking pains to keep his face relaxed and to
conceal his growing vexation, "I would suggest that if the barbarians surprised
Mai Yuan, they can also surprise us. It would be a mistake to underestimate
their sophistication or their bravery."
The wrinkles on Kwan's brow gathered into an angry gnarl, and he glared
at Batu with his cloudy eyes. "I can assure the young general that I would
make no such mistake."
As Kwan spoke, the enemy cavalry wheeled about and rode for the far side
of the field. When his officers showed the proper restraint and did not pursue,
Batu breathed a sigh of relief. From the behavior of the barbarians, the young
general suspected the horsewarriors were trying to lure his men into a trap.
More than three quarters of Batu's archers, over seven hundred and fifty,
lay wounded or dead. As military protocol dictated, every third survivor tended
to the injured, dragging those who could not walk away from the battle line.
The other survivors stood ready, prepared in case the enemy suddenly
returned. The number of casualties unsettled Batu, for the heavy losses
reflected too well on the accuracy of the enemy bowmen. Nevertheless, he
was also proud of his troops' bravery and discipline.
As the barbarian cavalry rode out of the scrying basin's range, Kwan
pointed a wrinkled fingertip at the bowl. "Do you see, General Batu?" he
asked. "There is no need to worry about the barbarians. They are frightened
of your archers, and with good reason." The old man pointed to where the
enemy horsewarriors had stopped and traded arrows with the Shou archers.
What Batu saw disappointed him. Dozens of injured barbarians were
limping or crawling out of the field. Dazed and wounded horses hobbled about
without direction. From beasts and riders too injured to move came a torpid
chorus of groans and wails, and nearly two hundred enemy warriors did not
move at all. Still, Batu estimated the invaders' casualties at under five
hundred, less than two-thirds of his own. His men had not even given as good
as they'd received.
"Your archers have been too devastating," Kwan continued, ignoring the
scrying basin. "Send a runner. This time, your archers must let the barbarians
complete the charge."
Batu's jaw dropped, for the minister was wasting what remained of his
limited supply of archers. "Perhaps the minister's eyes are not as sharp as
they once were," Batu said, barely able to keep his voice from trembling with
anger. "Or he would have noticed that my archers did not stop the last charge,
and could not stop the next one if the enemy walked their horses into battle!"
Kwan's response was measured and cool. "My eyes are sharp enough to
know when we have the enemy in our grasp. Your pengs are a tribute to your
discipline," the minister said. The term he used could mean weapon, common
soldier, or both, reflecting the opinion that soldiers were weapons. "They
deserve the empire's praise," Kwan added. "But if we send reinforcements
now, my young general, the barbarians will smell our trap and flee. Without
horses, we'll never catch them."
"The enemy's nose is sharper than you think," Batu retorted. "He has
already smelled the trap, and he is stealing the bait while we watch." Batu
looked at his fellow generals. "If the horsewarriors are such fools, wouldn't
they have committed themselves by now?"
Neither general answered. They were unwilling to contradict the logic of
their young peer, yet unwilling to support him. The Minister of War disagreed
with Batu, and the older generals knew it would not be prudent to contradict
their superior. As the two men looked away, Batu recognized their caution and
realized that he could expect no help from them. He wondered if they would
prove as unsupportive on the battlefield.
For a moment, the minister regarded Shengti and Ching Tung thoughtfully.
Finally, turning back to Batu, he said, "It is possible that you are correct,
General. If there is not enough bait, the rat may smell the trap. So we will
increase his temptation."
The concession surprised Batu, and he wondered if it should have.
Although it was apparent that the minister lacked battlefield experience, it was
equally obvious that only a shrewd politician could have reached such a high
post. It seemed to the young general that Kwan had interpreted Shengti's and
Ching Tung's silence for what it was. Batu allowed himself the vague hope
that Kwan's supervision would not result in a disaster after all.
While the young general considered him, Kwan studied the scrying basin.
Finally, the old man pointed a yellow-nailed finger to where the end of the
archer's line met the river. "General Batu, take your army and reinforce your
archers," the minister said. "Anchor your line here, at the river, and deploy as
if expecting a frontal attack. Leave your western flank exposed."
A knot of anger formed in Batu's heart. He openly frowned at the minister,
hardly able to believe what he had heard. "If I do that, the barbarian cavalry
will ride down the line and drive my army into the river."
"Exactly," Kwan said, pulling his gray lips into a thin smile.
Shengti studied the scrying basin for a moment, then said, "A brilliant plan,
Minister! The sloppy deployment will lure the enemy into full commitment. As
the barbarians roll up Batu's flank, my army—along with the Army of Ching
Tung, of course—will charge over the hill and smash them."
The ancient minister smiled warmly at Shengti. "You are very astute," he
said. "Your future will have many bright days."
And my future will be very short, Batu thought. Shengti had neglected to
mention the most clever part of Kwan's plan: a troublesome subordinate
would be destroyed. Even if Batu did not perish during the slaughter, the
stigma of losing an entire army would destroy his career.
Still, even knowing the consequences, Batu's instinct was to follow the
order without question. To his way of thinking, soldiers were dead men. Their
commanders simply allowed them to walk the land of the living until their
bodies were needed in combat. In that respect, Batu considered himself no
different from any other soldier, and if Kwan ordered him to meet the enemy
naked and alone, he would be obliged to do so.
Still, a soldier was entitled to the hope of a glorious end. The young general
could see no glory in allowing the horse-warriors to slaughter his army like so
many swine, especially when Kwan had not taken the time to scout the enemy
and could not be certain that anything useful would come of the sacrifice.
Hoping to convince the generals from Shengti and Ching Tung to come to his
aid, Batu decided to point out Kwan's sloppy preparations.
"While your plan has many things to recommend it, Minister," he began, "I
must point out that it may result in the destruction of my army without
accomplishing the emperor's will."
Kwan settled back into his chair, placing his elbows on the armrests and
lacing his fingers in front of his body. "Please proceed, General," he said,
looking Batu in the eye with a milky but steady gaze. "I'm sure we're all
interested in your opinion."
The general from Chukei looked at his two peers. They stood well away,
their expressionless attention politely fixed on his face. After taking a deep
breath, Batu turned back to Kwan. The minister had shifted his gaze to a
space just over his subordinate's head.
"You're underestimating the barbarian's strength and sophistication," Batu
said. "By exposing my army's flank, you're assuring its pointless destruction."
The minister's expression did not change. He simply sat quietly, waiting for
his subordinate to continue, as if what he had said so far was of no
consequence.
Batu pointed toward the battlefield. "You're assuming the barbarians have
no plans of their own, and that they'll walk blindly into any trap you lay." The
young general waved his hand at his two peers. "If the enemy outnumbers us,
its flank guard will engage the armies of Shengti and Ching Tung on the
hilltop. They'll never reach the battlefield."
Kwan remained motionless and silent, his attention fixed somewhere
behind Batu's head. At first, the young general wondered if the minister had
heard a single word. Finally, however, he realized that what Kwan had or had
not heard did not matter. Batu had secured his superior's animosity when he
had dared to disagree with him. It appeared that Kwan's retaliation would be
swift and ruinous.
Realizing that more hasty words would only make the situation worse, the
general from Chukei held his tongue and tried to think of a way out of his
difficulty. Fortunately, if all Kwan wanted was to be rid of him, Batu thought
that he could salvage a respectable death from his predicament.
Bowing very low, Batu said, "Minister, I have asked many impertinent
questions, and for that I deserve punishment. But no soldier deserves a
worthless death. Allow me to probe the enemy's strength, so that you will
know exactly what Shou Lung faces."
For the first time since Batu had begun his protest, Kwan looked directly at
him. The minister's expression seemed almost sympathetic. Speaking very
slowly and earnestly, the old man began, "General Batu, we have no need to
waste time probing that band of thieves. As for any punishment you may
deserve, my decision is strictly a military one. It has nothing to do with your
imagined rivalries."
Batu could hardly believe what the minister was saying, especially with
such an honest expression. If Kwan were lying, he was the best liar the
general had ever met. If the old man was sincere, he was the biggest fool
Batu had ever encountered.
Before Batu could respond, the minister continued. "Now, tell me why you
believe there are so many sophisticated savages out there."
A lump rose in Batu's throat. The little information he had about the
barbarians was far from what could be considered solid or reliable, but he felt
confident it surpassed what anyone else in the tent had gathered.
"First," Batu began, "let's consider the enemy's strength. We know that
there are at least one hundred thousand barbarians, for it would have required
that many to destroy the Army of Mai Yuan. Eyewitness accounts of the battle
suggest the actual numbers are far greater."
"An army looks much larger when it's overrunning you," the general from
Ching Tung objected. "Those reports are exaggerated."
"Are they?" Batu asked. "For several years now, there have been rumors
that Yamun Khahan has been uniting the horse tribes. If this is true, and what
we learned at the council in Semphar suggests it is, the barbarians could be
fielding close to two hundred thousand troops."
Ching Tung scoffed. "Two hundred thousand! I doubt there are that many
men in all the horse tribes together."
"How many miles of horse tribe border do you patrol?" Batu asked, eyeing
the other general sharply.
Raising a hand to silence Ching Tung, Kwan intervened. "No one will
contest that you patrol more horse tribe border than any of us, General Batu.
Please proceed."
"For hundreds of years, tribes of horse barbarians have been crossing the
Chukei border to plunder. Their raiding parties have always been small, so
we've never had trouble chasing them out. Note that I did not say tracking
them down. The barbarians have always been cunning thieves, and more
often than not it's all we can do to drive these bands out of the province.
When we do catch them, they fight hard and shrewdly, and they never expect
or give mercy."
"Yes, we know this. What is your point?" Kwan pressed, shifting in his chair
impatiently.
Batu hesitated. This next point was his most critical, and it was the one
most likely to bring ridicule down on his head. Nevertheless, if he stood any
chance of convincing his peers not to dismiss the barbarians lightly, it was a
point he had to make.
After a deep breath, he continued. "You may have noticed the resemblance
between the barbarians and myself."
Ching Tung snorted. "How could we miss it?"
Batu suppressed a heated reply. Instead, he said, "My great-grandfather
was a Tuigan, as the barbarians call themselves. He settled in the province of
Chukei after his clan was destroyed in a tribal war."
"How bold of you to admit it," Shengti said.
The condescension in Shengti's voice was nothing new to the general.
Although most Shou prided themselves on lack of prejudice, they made no
secret of the fact that they considered all other cultures inferior to their own.
As a result, they could not help but look down on those who appeared to be
anything less than full-blooded Shou.
The general continued. "While I was growing up, my great-grandfather
spent hours telling me stories of life among the nomads. Of course, I can't
remember all his tales, but what I do remember is frightening."
"Such as?" Kwan asked. His attention remained fixed on Batu, but it was
difficult for the young general to tell whether the minister was genuinely
interested or just humoring a condemned man.
"Tuigan tribes are devoted to one thing and one thing only: making war.
Their children ride horses before they can walk, and fire bows at full gallop
before their beards start to grow. When they're not at war with civilized lands,
they're fighting clan feuds so bloody that whole tribes are slaughtered. For
fun, they gather hundreds of warriors and massacre every living beast within
ten square miles."
"Brawlers and hunters are a poor match for trained soldiers," Ching Tung
interrupted.
"You have heard my words, but have you been listening, General?" Batu
asked, motioning at Ching Tung sharply. "I am saying that our enemies are
born killers with no concept of mercy or surrender. If someone has trained
them, given them focus, Shou Lung is in much greater danger than it has ever
been in before."
Ching Tung sneered. "Trained armies cannot be made from murdering
scum—"
The ancient minister raised his hand for silence, then turned to Batu. "What
would you suggest, General?"
"That we proceed with more caution on our first engagement," Batu
responded. "Setting traps is fine, provided you know what you are hunting.
But the man who sets a fox snare and catches a bear may be the one who
gets skinned."
"So what would you suggest?" Kwan asked.
Delighted and surprised by Kwan's unexpected solicitation of his opinion,
Batu answered rapidly and enthusiastically, "A series of probing attacks,
followed by rapid withdrawals, at least until we know the size and nature of
our enemy."
Kwan nodded, then stroked his beard thoughtfully. Finally, he pushed
himself out of his chair and squinted into Batu's eyes. "I thought as much," he
said. "You speak to us of rumors and hunting parties, then tell us we should
withdraw to a safe distance while the enemy burns our fields and sacks our
villages. What you propose is not the way of an imperial officer, General Batu.
An imperial officer's way is to meet Shou Lung's enemies and crush them in
the name of the emperor!"
Batu stared into the minister's eyes for several seconds, but knew he could
not make the heat of his anger felt through the milky film that shielded Kwan's
eyes from reality. Finally, the general said, "Smashed armies crush no ene-
mies, Minister."
Kwan's face grew red, and his wrinkles squirmed like worms. For an
instant, Batu thought the old man would erupt into a fit of screaming, but the
minister slowly regained control of himself. After a moment, in a carefully
measured voice, Kwan asked, "Will you lead your army into battle, General
Batu, or must I find a loyal soldier to take your place?"
Batu answered immediately. "I'll go. If my army is to perish, then I will be
the one who leads it to its destruction."
As suddenly as it had contorted, Kwan's face relaxed, and the minister
tottered over to the young general's side. He laid a shriveled hand on Batu's
shoulder. "Good," he said. "My plan will work. Before you realize what is
happening, we'll charge down the hill and this band of thieves will trouble the
emperor's sleep no longer. You'll see."
2
The Sorghum Field
Batu stood, calm and motionless, midway up the hill that marked the
trampled field's southern border. The air carried the sweet, grassy smell of
young sorghum and the coppery odor of fresh blood. Overhead, the sky spirits
were sweeping away the clouds on a cool breeze, and the sun cast a keen
light over the field. The general felt lively and limber, his tao sword hanging
lightly in its scabbard of manta skin. The letter he had written to his wife was
in his pocket, ready for the messenger. Today was a fine day to die, the best
he had seen in many years.
A young, beardless Shou stepped to Batu's side and bowed. "General, your
army is deployed."
The speaker was Batu's adjutant, a junior officer named Pe Nii-Qwoh. The
adjutant wore a complete suit of k'ai, armor consisting of hundreds of metal
plates sewn between two layers of heavy silk. The velvet-trimmed suit had
been brocaded with brightly colored serpents, tigers, and phoenixes. His
helmet plume consisted of two kingfisher feathers with a pair of fighting
dragons carefully embroidered into the feather vanes.
In sharp contrast, Batu's battle dress consisted only of his drab, rhinoceros-
hide chia. As a general, he rarely engaged in hand-to-hand fighting and had
no use for such heavy armor. The weight of a k'ai suit would only fatigue him
during the battle without providing much benefit.
The general's disdain for heavy armor wasn't uncommon.
Farther down the hill were twenty lean men wearing no armor at all. They
stood at attention, their eyes fixed on Pe and Batu. The men were the runners
who carried orders from the general to his subordinate commanders.
The messengers reminded Batu of his letter to Wu, and he removed it from
his pocket. He started to give it to Pe, then decided to read it one last time.
Wu, it began simply, We have met the barbarians and are preparing for
battle. They promise to be a fine enemy. Although Kwan Chan Sen refuses to
admit it, there will certainly be many illustrious battles in this war.
However, I fear the best of them will be fought without me. My loose tongue
has offended the minister, and he has sent my army to perish ignominiously.
May he spend eternity lying face down in wet sand. Death is too good for the
fool who deprives me of fighting in this magnificent war!
Enough of my troubles. You know where our gold is hidden, so you will not
suffer for my absence. Our time together has been blessed, and you have
provided me with a beautiful daughter and a strong son. I will miss them both.
You have been a good wife, and I depart in comfort, knowing you would never
dishonor my memory by taking a lover.
Your worthy husband, Min Ho.
Satisfied that the letter said everything he meant it to, Batu folded it and
gave it to his subordinate. "For the messenger," he said.
Pe bowed and accepted the paper. He did not ask where to send it, for the
letter was an old ritual. In their marriage vows, Lady Wu had made Batu
promise to write her before each battle. So far, it was a promise Batu had kept
faithfully, as he had all the other vows he had ever taken.
Pe withdrew a similar paper from his own pocket. The young officer did not
usually write his parents before battle. On Batu's suggestion, he had made
today an exception.
摘要：

1TheMinister'sPlanThebarbarianstoodinhisstirrups,nockinganarrowinhishorn-and-woodbow.Hewashusky,withbandylegswellsuitedtoclenchingthesidesofhishorse.Forarmor,heworeonlyagreasyhauberkandaconicalskullcaptrimmedwithmattedfur.Hisdark,slitlikeeyessatoverbroadcheekbones.Atthebottomofaflatnose,therider'sbl...

展开>> 收起<<
Forgotten Realms - Empires 02 - Dragonwall.pdf

共190页,预览10页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：190 页 大小：687KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-04

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 动力学连接体 力的合成 配电装置 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 190
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注