Chapter 118: Raid the West

On the twentieth day of the ninth month of the second year of Chongzhen, the Liaodong land was covered in white snow. This year's snow had come heavy and early. In the streets of the dunbao, Taketan of the Plain Blue Banner was returning home carrying a back-basket full of grain. He wore a bulky leather jacket, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his fox-fur hat pulled down low. After walking a stretch he stopped, rubbed his sleeve twice along the brim of the hat to steady it, then continued toward home, his shoes crunching and creaking over the accumulated snow.

Behind him was Geshitu, who had also gone to buy grain, a Red Armor soldier. He was driving his two male bondservants and one Nikhan woman with a thick stick, cursing and shouting without pause. All three bore heavy back-baskets loaded with charcoal and grain. The three were so thin and frail that their bodies hunched forward, their upper bodies nearly parallel to the ground.

At a bend, the woman accidentally tripped on a protruding flagstone, stumbled, and fell to the ground. A grain sack tumbled from her basket. Geshitu swung his stick and struck. Seeing this, one of the Han men behind her cried out, dropped his basket, and threw himself over the woman to shield her from the blows. Geshitu showed no mercy, beating the two of them relentlessly, cursing as he struck, "I'll beat you to death, you Han dog." The frail man was already bleeding from the mouth and nose. The woman screamed and wept, trying to pull the man beneath her, but she lacked the strength to move him and could only weep helplessly on the ground.

The other bondservant behind them cowered timidly to one side. Growing excited from the beating, Geshitu suddenly kicked the standing bondservant. With a shriek, the bondservant was kicked into the courtyard wall. The mud-brick wall shuddered slightly with a thud, and a fine dusting of accumulated snow sifted down.

Hearing the sounds of stick striking flesh and the weeping cries, Taketan acted as if he heard nothing and kept walking on his own. When he reached his own gate, he pushed open the brushwood door. His family's bondservant had already returned from gathering firewood and was stacking it in the courtyard with a female bondservant. Seeing him, the male bondservant hurried over to take the back-basket. This bondservant was a young, thin Han man, around twenty years old, his clothes tattered. He had wrapped an old quilt around himself, stuffed with sedge grass, making him look like a bloated lama. His head was also wrapped haphazardly with rags to ward off the cold. Even so, he could not withstand the bitter chill; his nose was frozen bright red, clear mucus running constantly, and both sleeves were polished shiny from wiping it. As he laboriously took the basket, he said ingratiatingly to Taketan, "Young Master, don't tire yourself. Let me do these things."

Taketan raised his head slightly, pushing his fox-fur hat up to reveal his young face. His slightly boyish face was covered with pockmarks large and small, and his upper lip bore only a dozen or so trimmed whiskers. He said to the bondservant, "Zhang Zhongqi, is the hoeing finished?"

"Rest assured, Master, it's all done, and the horse is fed too. No other household's master does the work himself. Young Master, truly, why do you show such consideration for us slaves? After hoeing all these days, don't wear yourself out." The thin Zhang Zhongqi spoke as he diligently brushed the snowflakes from Taketan's body.

After letting him brush him off, Taketan ignored him, lifted the back-basket with one hand, pushed open the door of the main house, and entered with a few snowflakes swirling in. Inside it was warm and cozy, making him feel a wave of comfort. He sat down directly beside a stove burning firewood. He unwound the scarf from his neck, revealing his thick neck. He also casually removed his hat. A small queue fell down, swaying a few times behind him. Taketan felt back for it and pulled it to rest on his left chest.

Taketan rubbed his hands together, exhaled a puff of hot breath, then looked at the middle-aged man huddled in a chair opposite him and said, "Ama, grain prices have risen again, and cheese too. Next month the silver will be gone. What will we eat this winter?"

The middle-aged man opposite had a grim, hawkish face. He said coldly, "If it truly comes to it, sell Zhang Zhongqi to Uncle Yilantai. Three of his have already frozen or starved to death. He came by yesterday to ask if I had any extra."…

Taketan said, "What extra do we have? We only have one bondservant left. If we sell him, I'll have to till the land myself come spring."

The man opposite lowered his head and thought for a moment, then said, "There are still plenty of households without bondservants who till their own land. If you're worried that farming will delay your martial training, then sell that Nikhan woman to your Uncle Yilantai."

Taketan froze for a moment, then said, "Then you, Ama, won't even have someone to warm your bed."

"This Nikhan woman is too thin and can't do the work. Since we have no food left, we have no choice but to sell her."

Taketan asked helplessly, "Ama, why is grain so expensive all the time now? This year so far, we haven't even had a turn to go raiding. And the snow came early — didn't you always say that early snow means drought again?"

His Ama sighed, "This isn't even expensive yet. The year before last it was eight taels a dou — didn't you eat then too? What use is it just to grab some silver? Better to damn well grab some grain."

As he spoke, his Ama's eyes revealed a light of hatred. "If not for those Sichuan soldiers breaking my hand, our family would have more than just two bondservants." Taketan stared expressionlessly at the stove fire. His Ama had originally been a White Armor soldier of the Plain Blue Banner. At the bloody battle of the Hun River, a Sichuan soldier had hacked off his right hand, and when he fell, his leg bone was trampled and broken by a horse. It was a great fortune he had even survived. But from then on, he could no longer go on campaign, so he had almost no plunder, receiving only a meager share from the niru each time.

Fortunately, Taketan had grown quickly. This year he was already seventeen and could follow the banner into battle. Competition in their niru was fierce; he was still not an armored soldier, only counted as a supernumerary. But his Ama had trained him since childhood, and he was proficient in everything — archery, the great saber, the long spear, and riding. Many in the niru believed he would surely become a bayara. Many were also willing to arrange marriages with their family. The hope of reviving the family's fortunes was in sight.

"Ama, if I ever encounter those Sichuan soldiers, I will certainly help you take a few more heads."

"Fool, those Sichuan soldiers are such fierce troops — why would you go risk your life against them?" A pained expression appeared on his Ama's face, as if recalling the bloody battle of that year. Those Sichuan soldiers numbered only seven thousand, yet the Eight Banners, tens of thousands strong and famed as invincible when at full strength, besieged them and could not prevail, instead suffering thousands of casualties. Many officers were so terrified by the ferocity of the Sichuan troops that they dared not advance. Had the surrendered gunners from Shenyang not bombarded the Sichuan formation open, even tens of thousands of them could not have taken it. It was fortunate the Sichuan troops numbered only seven thousand. If all the hundred thousand soldiers in Liaodong had been such Sichuan troops, he would not now be living on the Liaoshen plain. He gently shook his head, dispelling those bone-deep memories, and continued to Taketan, "Even if you take a few more heads, if he hacks off one of your hands, how will you still shoot arrows and ride horses? When you encounter the other rabble troops of the Ming, just kill more of them. Remember firmly, you still must seize goods. Our Great Jin State does not value heads so highly either."

Young and full of spirit, Taketan did not take his Ama's words to heart. Their niru ejen's household had over a dozen bondservant aha and seven or eight maidservants, whom he slept with in rotation. What use was merely seizing goods? One still needed battle merits. He had to earn those for himself on the battlefield. His Ama finished speaking, coughed twice in succession, and reached for the water bowl beside him, only to find it empty. Taketan brought the kettle over and set it by the stove to warm, while also adding more firewood to the stove.

He suddenly remembered something and said, "Ama, two more whiskers have grown. Help me pull them out."

His Ama stirred, a rare movement, and extended one hand. Taketan went over and knelt before him. His Ama's thick fingers reached out, using the nails of two fingers to pinch tight a whisker on Taketan's upper lip. Suddenly he exerted force and plucked one out, tugging Taketan's upper lip along with it. Taketan's face remained expressionless, as if it were not his own whisker being pulled.

After dropping the whisker, Ama let out a long sigh. "Our family has been living off the silver saved from the fight at Shenyang. Now silver seems less and less like silver. All that silver of ours is nearly spent. If we don't go raiding again soon, we'll have to sell that Nikhan woman. This month, Delegei Taiji led some men to Ningyuan to raid, but our niru didn't get a turn. I fear you won't get to go this year."…

Father and son sat in silence. In the room, only the crackling of the burning firewood could be heard. After sitting for a long while, Taketan stood up, preparing to have the Nikhan woman cook.

At that moment, a low conch horn suddenly sounded. Ama, who had been huddled in the chair, straightened his back like a spring. Taketan stared at him blankly. His Ama said rapidly, "The conch horn! Quick, go to the gate and look. Hear the news."

Taketan hastily grabbed his hat and put it on, not bothering with his scarf, and ran straight to the main gate. Just as he reached the gate, he saw the wooden palisade gate in the center of the village open. Their niru ejen rushed out, disheveled. An aha led a horse over, and the niru ejen mounted and rode toward the village entrance.

The conch horn sounded again. This time he heard it coming from far outside. All around, the doors of various houses banged as people came out and stood at their gates, watching the niru ejen ride toward the village entrance. Taketan saw his neighbors all following and running out, so he too hurried out. By the time he reached the village entrance, the niru ejen was standing on the main road just outside the village, while others gathered at the entrance. Most of these villagers had old scars on their faces.

Taketan turned and saw the bošokū who oversaw them standing nearby. He went over and asked, "Uncle Yilantai, the conch horn is blowing again. Is our banner about to march out?"

Uncle Yilantai was also an old White Armor soldier, his body thick and sturdy as a bear. His dark face and neck were covered with scars, and a scar near the ear on the left side of his face was especially shocking. He bared his teeth and said, "Still depends on who we're raiding. There's nothing much worth taking from Korea or the Chahar."

Taketan was about to ask more when the sound of hoofbeats came from the main road. A bayara arrived, riding one horse and leading another, the triangular banner on his back snapping loudly in the wind. Everyone stopped talking. Taketan saw the bayara halt and loudly announce to the niru ejen, "Report to the jala ejen's residence to receive orders." He then rode on toward the next dunbao.

The niru ejen then mounted and rode off toward the jala ejen's dunbao. The crowd at the village entrance discussed for a while, debating whether they would go to the Mongols, Korea, or raid the Great Ming, reminiscing about which raid had yielded the most goods, as casually as chatting about household matters. When someone mentioned a time when a man had seized a pair of twin girls, everyone burst into laughter.

Taketan found little amusement in these tales. Hearing that they had no reliable news, he turned and went back inside. His Ama, leaning on a crutch and supported by Zhang Zhongqi, was already at the door. He asked Taketan, "Do you know where we're going?"

"I don't know."

After entering the house, his Ama said to him, "For a campaign in this season, you must go. There's no farm work anyway. Are you still short of anything?"

Taketan hesitated, "I have no armor."

"Trade that Nikhan woman for it. Go find your Uncle Yilantai."

Taketan stood without moving. His Ama urged him, "Hurry up. What does it matter if there's one less woman in the house? As long as you go raid and bring back goods, you'll have plenty of women. Trade for a good suit of armor. If one isn't enough, drag Zhang Zhongqi along to trade too." Taketan lowered his head and went out. He still intended to keep Zhang Zhongqi. His Ama had trouble with his legs and still needed someone to care for him. He walked to the middle of the courtyard, looped a rope around the woman, and left.

The woman followed him obediently. Only when they reached the gate did she turn and stammer a few sounds toward Zhang Zhongqi. Zhang Zhongqi waved at her. This woman had been resold who knew how many times; it was already fortunate she had survived this long. Zhang Zhongqi did not even know her name, because she was mute. But this mute woman had a very kind heart. The few times Zhang Zhongqi had been beaten, she had cared for him, which was how he had pulled through. So whenever he managed to steal a bit of food, he would share some with this woman. In Taketan's household, there were only the two of them as bondservants. The two were like those two fish moistening each other with their spit. Watching the woman disappear through the gate, Zhang Zhongqi's eyes slowly reddened.

The mute woman was pulled along by Taketan. They walked a stretch of road and arrived before a courtyard. Taketan walked straight in. In the courtyard was a Jurchen woman, the daughter of Uncle Yilantai. She wore four or five earrings on her ears and one on her nose as well. She was dressed in a gaudy garment — who knew when it had been looted, and some places were already torn. This woman liked Taketan, and Uncle Yilantai also had intentions of arranging a marriage with Taketan's family.

Seeing Taketan arrive, she greeted him joyfully, splitting open a mouth as wide as a basin of blood in a grin. Her several earrings clinked against each other, producing tinkling sounds. She raised her right hand to her brow and dipped her knees slightly, which counted as a greeting. Taketan, however, did not much like this woman. He thought Han women were better-looking.

"Hailan, my Ama told me to bring this woman over. He wants to trade for a suit of armor with Uncle Yilantai."

Hailan tilted her head to look at the woman behind him, who was docilely lowering her head. Hailan went over, lifted the woman's head, pried open her mouth, checked her teeth, then groped the woman's body randomly for a while and shook her head. She still thought she was too thin. But since it was Taketan who wanted the armor, she was still willing to help.

She said to Taketan, "Taketan, wait a moment. I'll go call Ama back to take a look." With that, she went out the gate toward the village entrance.

Only then did Taketan realize that Yilantai had still not returned. He wondered what there could be to listen to at the village entrance. He looked around the courtyard, pulled over a large wooden stump, and sat down on it. He glanced at the mute woman, then untied the rope. The mute woman then knelt facing the gate.

After a while, Yilantai returned from outside. Like Hailan, he extended his bear-like paws and groped the mute woman all over, shaking his head. "Taketan, this woman is too thin. She can't work the fields. At most, I can trade you a cloth armor."

Taketan hesitated. Cloth armor was at best useful for deflecting arrows at long range; in close combat it was of little use. Hailan tugged at Yilantai's clothes from behind. Yilantai closed his eyes and thought for a moment, still intending to cultivate this rising star, and then said, "Then I'll give you a suit of mail armor first. If you manage to seize goods on this campaign, share some with me afterward. But remember to polish the armor thoroughly. Those whose armor does not shine on the eve of battle will be punished."

"Thank you, Uncle Yilantai." A smile spread across Taketan's pockmarked face. Mail armor was much better — light and convenient, without restricting limb movement.

Yilantai squeezed out a smile on his ugly face and said to Taketan carelessly, "Still depends on where we're going. If it's like the rumors say, to the Ming capital, the women there will be far more tender and fair than those here in Liaodong. But don't just fixate on seizing goods. What our Great Jin values most is still battle merit. Work hard, and rise to bayara."

Taketan lowered his head to receive the teaching. At that moment, a burst of cheering came from the village entrance, followed by a string of hoofbeats approaching from afar. Several people rushed to the gate. The niru ejen had returned. He shouted all along the way on horseback: "In the tenth month we campaign against the Ming. Our niru will send twenty men: seven bayara and thirteen armored soldiers…" (Note 3)

Everywhere he passed erupted in excitement, and gradually a shout arose: "Raid the west!"

The niru ejen's voice continued to ring out: "Those who wish to follow on their own will not share in the banner's plunder. Each must prepare his own weapons, armor, bows, arrows, and horses, and come to me for selection…"

Hailan also ran to the gate. Hearing this, she howled along with Taketan, her face full of excitement. Seeing their excitement, the mute woman also grinned foolishly.

The chaotic shouts slowly coalesced into a unified cry, echoing above the village.

"Raid the west! Raid the west!!"

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Note 1: Later Jin troop mobilization (under the old chieftain): … When the conch horn is blown continuously, it means there is news of enemy troops… Everyone waits at their respective village entrances. Those of the rank of bei yu and above go to the banner's beile's gate to receive orders.

Note 2: The Jurchen attire and customs in this chapter are all drawn from "Jianzhou Wenjian Lu." Dislikers need not criticize. Every time they went on campaign to raid the Great Ming, they would cheer "Raid the west."

Note 3: Under the old chieftain, Later Jin roughly drew one hundred men from each niru: 10 white bayara, 40 red bayara, and 50 black camp soldiers. By the Tiancong era, the terms red bayara and black camp soldiers were no longer used. Among armored men, apart from bayara, the rest were all called armored soldiers (mobile camp soldiers).