Chapter 671: Crow Troops Scattered-Star Formation (Part One)

"The Han people are truly prosperous, especially this Jingbian Army."

The short, stocky Galeide and Tabunang wolfed down the red-braised mutton, the rich aroma of meat spreading through the air, making them swallow their saliva in admiration even as they ate.

Such fatty sheep, and red-braised at that — on the grasslands, when had they ever eaten food this fine? Even at the Naadam festival, at most a whole sheep was roasted, and the flavor was nothing to speak of. Normally they lived on milk tea, dairy products, wheat flour, and parched rice — a hard life of one full meal followed by hunger.

In the common impression, steppe peoples casually roast whole sheep all the time, but in truth, slaughtering a sheep for food was a major event.

Just as common folk in the Central Plains slaughter pigs only during festivals and according to seasonal requirements — the sheep must be killed when it is fattest, otherwise it is like killing the hen for its eggs. No matter how many sheep you have, they won't last, and without sheep, how would you survive on the grasslands?

Even tribal chieftains could not eat beef and mutton often, just as landlords in the Central Plains could not eat white flour every day.

"Ha ha ha ha..."

A constant chatter of barbarian speech went on around Galeide and Tabunang, all of them Mongols wearing the "Huhele" hairstyle. The crowd laughed and talked cheerfully, eating meat and rice while gulping down salted milk tea in great mouthfuls.

Though the tea leaves were poor — nothing more than green brick tea or black brick tea boiled up — these Mongols were already content.

Tea is the life of the steppe peoples; a single day without tea is unendurable.

And those great barrels of vegetables also delighted these Mongols.

Why would they rather eat only one meal a day yet take tea three times? Precisely because the grasslands lack vegetables, and vegetables are expensive on the steppe. In ordinary times, only the chieftains of large tribes could enjoy them.

"Galeide, this time I will certainly hack off the heads of a few Tumote savages and earn military merit."

Tabunang gulped down his milk tea noisily as he spoke to Galeide.

"Yes, we must earn merit, but keep a sharp eye out for blades and arrows. I do not wish for Adu to be without a man in the future."

Galeide was of a steadier disposition. He spoke with gravity.

Tabunang was an outstanding warrior in the tribe, and had grown up together with Galeide's younger sister — in the Han saying, they were childhood sweethearts. Galeide approved of the two being together.

He had his own plans as well. He hoped to earn military merit, be registered as a frontier subject, and be allotted pastureland. Then the family's livelihood would be secure for the future.

Silently he took out his weapons and wiped them clean. His equipment consisted of a set of heirloom willow-leaf armor, a crescent-moon saber, a horn bow, and a long spear fitted with a grappling hook that could pull enemy cavalry from their horses. He also had two horses — one as his main mount, the other to carry some supplies.

Tabunang was much the same, though his armor was a set of hoop armor, like the willow-leaf armor, both made of cured cowhide with iron plates affixed to the surface, bearing the mottled marks of age. There seemed to be a faint stench about it as well — after all, leather armor was tanned using dung.

This leather armor was thick and reinforced with external iron plates, offering fairly good protection against arrows and slashing blades. Of course, against thrusting attacks from swords or spears, it was of little use.

Besides his horn bow, Tabunang's mounted-combat weapons were an axe and a hammer. He was powerfully built and favored these heavy weapons.

Looking across this group of Mongols, few were equipped as well as Galeide and Tabunang. Only occasionally did one spot a set of willow-leaf armor or hoop armor. After all, these two hundred-odd men did not belong to any major tribe — they were merely one sumu under the Naiman Banner of the Ju Ud League.

The entire Naiman tribe comprised twelve jalan (company commanders) and fifty sumu (squadron commanders). Their chieftain, Gunchuke, had been enfeoffed as Duoluo Darhan Commandery Prince in the first year of Chongde and served as jasagh. On the southern bank where the Huang River and the Laoha River converged, they held pastureland ninety-five li wide and two hundred twenty li deep.

However, when the Jingbian Army had marched beyond the frontier the previous year, the Naiman tribe had been struck. The sumu janggin, Lu Boluo, seized the opportunity to break away, leading his people to defect to Wang Dou. Because he had absorbed scattered Naiman herders, Lu Boluo's tribe now had a considerably larger population.

Yet by Jingbian Army standards, they could only field two hundred mounted men, and fewer than fifty possessed armor. Many had nothing more than iron plates sewn inside their leather robes, much like cotton armor — and cotton armor had actually been first used by the Mongols.

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A single glimpse reveals the whole picture: the steppe Mongols had declined, no longer possessing the martial vigor of former years. The Mongols of the Mongol Yuan era, to say nothing of their armor, were famed for their heavy cavalry.

Every rider had thick leather armor, iron armor, chain mail, and the like; even the horses were draped in iron barding, and shields were sheathed in metal. On the warriors' heads were bronze or iron helmets.

It was precisely because of such fine protection that when Europeans loosed arrows like rain, the shafts clustering on their armor like balls, they would not suffer serious wounds.

But for now, even with crude equipment, Mongols like Galeide were still very willing to fight, hoping to earn military merit and win a better life.

"Come, come, Brother Han — your elder brother here wishes you a smooth campaign and victory at the first banner raised."

Inside the great tent, Han Chao was seated together with Lei Xianbin, the Central Army and Central Battalion Commander of the Xuanwu Army; Xie Shangbiao, Left Battalion Commander; Tian Qiming, Right Battalion Commander; Qi Tianliang, Logistics Department Commissioner; Sun Sanjie, Supply Battalion Commander; and Zeng Jiuyi, New Auxiliary Battalion Commander, among others.

Outside there was a slight chill, but inside the tent it was warm. The tables were laden with wine and meat, and everyone ate comfortably.

Yet though the meat was plentiful, the wine was scant. This was because they were about to march, and military regulations forbade heavy drinking. Even men as fond of drink as Lei Xianbin, Xie Shangbiao, and Zeng Jiuyi had to content themselves with a token taste.

Qi Tianliang and Han Chao were old acquaintances — they had come out of the same fire-beacon mound together with Wang Dou back in the day. His words now were deeply sincere and concerned.

"I am honored by Elder Brother Qi's auspicious words."

Han Chao drained his cup in one go. This western-front campaign was, one could say, his to shoulder alone. Even with his steady temperament, he felt a faint excitement in his heart.

After all these years, Qi Tianliang was still as lean and dry as ever, though dwelling in high station and nurtured by ease had cultivated an air of authority about him.

Setting down his cup, he stroked his beard and looked at Han Chao as he said slowly, "The western-front battle is in the Grand General's sight, and in the sight of the people of Xuan-Da as well. If you win, then Brother Han's weight in the Grand General's regard in the future... So this battle must be fought well. You must display the Xuanwu Army's martial prestige."

Han Chao nodded. He knew that among the Jingbian Army's commanders at present, in the Grand General's mind, perhaps only Wen Fangliang could truly hold a front on his own. But he would prove himself with facts.

Right Battalion Commander Tian Qiming had originally been a retainer of Tian Chang's household. Over so many years, he had fully integrated into the Jingbian Army system, though he still retained a shrewd and smooth personality.

He smiled and said, "Commissioner Qi's words truly move us officers to the depths of our hearts. Yet we believe that so long as the grain and fodder flow without interruption, the Xuanwu Army, under the Senior Commandant's leadership, will certainly display its prestige and momentum."

Qi Tianliang laughed heartily. In truth, he got along even better with people like Tian Qiming. He said with gravity, "Rest assured. Not to mention that military law is here for all to see... even speaking from personal friendship, Old Qi here will certainly give Brother Han my full support. You need have no worry at all about the supply of grain and fodder."

Tian Qiming said quickly, "With those words from Commissioner Qi, we officers can set our minds at ease."

Han Chao rose from the table and walked over to the great map hanging by the tent wall. He gazed at it for a long while, then said slowly, "According to the Staff Department's plan, once the five forts along the route are established, our western-front army will have already more than half won. Even if the slave cavalry harasses us, they cannot alter the greater situation. They will have no choice but to fight a decisive battle with us — and one battle can settle the affairs of Monan!"

Lei Xianbin, who along with the former Huang Yujin had long been a subordinate of Han Chao's, had an inkling of the hidden worry lurking in his commander's heart. Rubbing his face, he said, "When the great army marches beyond the frontier, even if there are some twists and turns, victory is certain. My only fear is that the Tatars, seeing the tide turn against them, will flee to Mobei."

"...Then even if we seize Guihua City, we may well repeat the pattern of past dynasties in the Central Plains: when we are strong, the Tatars evade the imperial army, even migrating west or north; when we decline, they return south again, and we fight them for decades, even a century."

Xie Shangbiao was rough and forthright by nature; even his ordinary speech sounded like a bellow. He said, "They can't flee. If the Tatars around Guihua City and those parts meant to flee to Mobei, they would have fled long ago, right after the proclamation of war was sent... They can't bear to leave this flowery stretch of Monan behind."

He went on, "Besides, once our Jingbian Army occupies Guihua City and controls the Monan line, so what if the Tatars flee to Mobei? We'll cross the desert, pursue them, and beat them to death — every last one... Then we'll control Mobei as well. Any Tatar who dares come in, we'll beat them all to death."

Han Chao nodded slightly. Lei Xianbin and Xie Shangbiao had been tempered by experience; both were rough yet possessed of subtlety, with a fair grasp of strategic perspective.

That was how matters on the grasslands went. If the Central Plains remained strong forever, then the Hu people on the steppe would never be a problem. Regrettably, no dynasty escaped decline. When the Central Plains' power contracted inward, the driven-off Hu people returned. Dynasty after dynasty — the Xiongnu, the Five Hu, the Tujue, the Mongols, and so on — wave after wave, unceasing.

Yet from his casual conversations with Wang Dou over the years, Han Chao had a vague sense that the present world order was no longer the same. If this time the Hu people were wiped out or driven away, they would not be coming back.

He said, "Let us not speak of this."

He turned to discuss supply matters with Qi Tianliang and Sun Sanjie. Qi Tianliang said, "Brother Han, according to the prior plan, for this supply transport, besides a portion of Brother Sun's supply carts and horses, your Xuanwu Army's two second-grade battalions will also transport supplies together — one wheelbarrow per squad, one flatbed cart per company. Besides carrying grain and fodder, there are also leather waterskins and water jars..."

"Beyond the frontier is not like the interior. Often you can travel dozens of li, even a hundred li, without seeing a single drop of water. Men and beasts cannot go without drinking..."

On the third day of the eighth month, Han Chao looked down upon the great army below: banners bright, firearms and spears arrayed in stern order, the military bearing at its peak.

Every soldier was now fully dressed in winter gear. The temperature on the grasslands was simply lower than inside the passes, and there was also what the Grand General called "ultraviolet rays" — wearing thin clothing would not do. And the dense mass of supply carts and horses was assembled.

Han Chao bellowed, "Our Black Tortoise Army."

"Mighty and fierce!"

"Our Black Tortoise Army."

"Mighty and fierce!"

The soldiers below erupted in a roar like crashing mountains and tidal waves.

"Move out!"

Based on the Intelligence Division's reconnaissance summaries from beyond the frontier, the Staff Division had already drawn up a detailed marching route. Guided by Intelligence Division personnel, the western expedition army advanced with the Newly Attached Battalion as the vanguard, the two Second-Class Battalions as the main force, and Han Chao bringing up the rear with the Central Battalion's feathered cavalry.

That day they marched several dozen li west. All along the way they saw only barren hills and wild grasses, dotted with some shrubs and birch trees — a desolate scene beyond the frontier. Because the terrain was relatively flat, the accompanying vehicles could still move with ease.

However, because water sources were scarce along the route, they consumed a great deal of their carried drinking water that day, especially the army's horses and mules, which were the thirstiest of all.

On the fourth day, the army began to march through shallow hills and valleys. Vast stretches of dense meadow grass reached the horses' bellies, and groves of poplar, birch, and larch layered the valleys and slopes.

By this time the wild grasses had withered yellow, the paths were piled with fallen leaves, and there were countless rodent burrows — horses stumbled as they walked over them, and the vehicles had an even harder time.

Yet the mountains were rich with magnificent colors, and sometimes springs and brooks emerged, allowing the army to replenish its drinking water.

Han Chao was extremely cautious. These areas were all places where men and horses could lie hidden, so the army's scout riders expanded their search range as much as possible.

The soldiers advanced warily, glancing in all directions. The night scouts of the Vanguard Reconnaissance Battalion had already sent back intelligence: in the area of Great Qing Mountain and the Dongyang River, the shadowy figures of Tatar cavalry had appeared.