Chapter 119: Engaging the Enemy

Around the hour of Chen, Ajige, guarded by over a hundred white-armored soldiers, led his great army to a point five li outside Changping city.

He had long since heard his scouts report that a large force of Ming troops, numbering over ten thousand, had already formed ranks outside Changping city.

Hearing this news, Ajige was first stunned, then burst into loud laughter.

That the Ming army had discovered them was only to be expected—the beacon fires at dawn had clearly revealed their movements to the Ming forces. But had this Ming army come too quickly?

Perhaps it was a force that had been encamped and drilling here? It must be! Otherwise, given the Ming court's dragging, procrastinating efficiency and the Ming army's timid, cowardly style, never mind a few hours—even several days might not be enough to assemble a great army to come and give battle.

Still, Ajige found it somewhat strange. The scouts reported that this Ming force was, first, large in number, and second, neat in armor—looking far more elite than ordinary Ming troops. Just where had this Ming army come from?

Ming troops were no cause for fear; what was to be feared was their cowering inside the city walls, unwilling to fight in the open field. If these ten thousand-plus men entered the city to defend it, things would become difficult for him. Changping might have to be abandoned, and he would then have to seek out weakly defended prefectures and counties to attack.

Had this band of Ming troops never heard of the fearsome reputation of the Eight Banners' warriors? Should he admire or pity this Ming commander? You should have just defended your city properly—instead you insist on leading your men to their deaths. Very well, today this prince shall grant you your wish!

Ajige dismounted and climbed onto a platform of wooden planks built atop a cart, looking down at the opposing force from his elevated position.

The Ming army opposite had formed three square formations. Directly facing him was a large square formation, composed entirely of arquebusiers. The gunners were arranged in four ranks, each rank roughly eight hundred men, the formation very tight.

Slightly behind and to both flanks of the gunner square were two somewhat smaller square formations, armed with long spears, also arranged in four ranks of roughly five hundred soldiers each.

Finally, there were several small square formations which, due to being blocked from view beforehand, could not be clearly seen—estimated to be sword-and-shield men and archers.

This kind of formation was commonly used by the Ming army, and Ajige had seen it many times. What puzzled him was that he saw no Ming cavalry.

Could it be because of the chevaux de frise, stretching dozens of paces long, placed on the outer edges of both flanks of the square formations?

That was indeed possible.

If one wanted to use cavalry to attack the Ming infantry from the flanks, one would have to break through the chevaux de frise arrays on both sides—and that was no easy task.

Within a range of fifty to sixty paces, obstacles such as chevaux de frise and abatis were densely packed. Clearing away these obstacles completely would take considerable time—and that was assuming the Ming army did not harass the soldiers doing the clearing. Since the Ming army had arranged things this way, they would certainly send troops to protect these obstacles; the small square formations behind were likely meant to deal with exactly that.

After surveying the scene, Ajige descended from the platform and summoned Abatai, Yangguli, and the others. After briefly describing the Ming army's deployment, he gave his orders: "The Ming arquebuses can only fire one volley. Abatai, take a thousand archers and five hundred armored soldiers forward. Have the booi push shield carts in front for cover. When you reach fifty paces from the gunner formation, the archers will loose arrows while the shield carts continue forward. Once the archers have thrown the Ming formation into disorder with their arrows, the armored soldiers will charge straight in and cut them down!"

Abatai received the order and went to select his men. Tan Tai, the valiant commander of the Bordered White Banner, had already been sent with a detachment to attack Huairou, making Abatai the first choice to lead the vanguard.

Ajige continued issuing orders: "Efu, you and Geng Zhongming take your men and tear apart the chevaux de frise on both sides! Geger and Danba, each of you send five niru of cavalry to the two flanks—the moment the chevaux de frise are destroyed, charge the formation immediately! The rest wait for my command—whichever side breaks through the Ming formation first, that is the side I will charge from!"

Sun Yingyuan stood atop a war cart, observing the great Qing army formation, his heart both excited and tense. This was the first time he had commanded such a large-scale battle; it was impossible not to be nervous.

The emperor's earnest exhortations from days past still echoed in his ears: Once you engage the Jianzhou barbarians, you must display the might and morale of the Great Ming's official army—and moreover, you must strike the Jianzhou barbarians until they hurt, until they are crippled! Break their myth of being invincible in numbers over ten thousand! Let the whole world know that the Great Ming's official army is the most formidable force of all! When my minister returns in triumph, I shall personally go out ten li beyond the city walls to welcome you!

As the long-drawn horn sounded, the Qing army opposite began to advance. At the head, over a thousand Han booi pushed several hundred shield carts slowly forward, while behind them came more than a thousand armored soldiers, wielding short weapons such as hammers, axes, and iron whips, following closely.

Over a hundred confidants of high officials and nobles were gathered in the arrow tower, nervously watching the two armies arrayed below the city walls.

In the distance, the various banners of the great Qing formation fluttered in the wind; the rigorous formation and the high morale that could be felt from several li away made everyone's hearts pound with fear. Fortunately, they were inside the city—if the official army were defeated, the Jianzhou barbarians could not break into the city anytime soon, leaving plenty of time to flee.

The Qing army's booi slaves pushed their shield carts, gradually approaching the Ming army's great formation.

These booi Han were mostly commoners the Eight Banners had seized from the interior; this time they were returning to the Great Ming with their masters—though appearing in the guise of enemies. Many of them felt deeply conflicted: they hoped their masters would win, so they could follow along looting money, women, and grain; if their masters captured other slaves, it would lighten their own labor burden, and perhaps they might even be promoted to steward. But they also vaguely hoped the Great Ming would win, so that—provided they themselves were not killed—they could be rescued by the official army and return to this ancestral homeland where their forebears had lived, and in death be buried in the family graves.

But when two armies clash, life and death hang in an instant; nothing was within their own control. They could only leave it to fate.

These one-wheeled shield carts of the Jianzhou barbarians had thick wooden boards at the front and sand-filled sacks piled on both sides, providing excellent defense against bullets and arrows. They only needed to push the carts to within a few paces of the gunner formation, and then the heavily armored soldiers behind would charge forward from the rear. Once armored soldiers broke into the formation, the arquebusiers had only two paths: flee or die.

Watching the shield carts gradually enter the effective range of the red barbarian cannons atop the city wall, Sun Yingyuan gave the order, and his personal guards raised a triangular red flag high with one hand. The gunners atop the wall were already prepared; seeing the commander's signal, the master gunner thrust the fire tongs into the blazing brazier. After a dozen or so breaths, the tip of the tongs had burned red-hot. The gunner, turning his body sideways, pressed the tongs to the fuse at the touchhole, and the rapidly burning fuse burrowed into the barrel like a fire serpent.

With a thunderous blast like a bolt from the blue, a great cloud of thick smoke rose from the city wall, and a black cannonball shot forth from the muzzle, tracing a perfect arc through the air, flying at a visible speed toward the Qing shield cart formation two li away.

In the blink of an eye, the cannonball plunged into the dense Qing shield cart formation. The high-speed projectile first passed easily through the shield board of one cart, smashing the skull of the booi pushing it, then tore through the torsos of several men behind him. After landing, it bounced forward rapidly, sailed over the second cart, and smashed the third cart and the several booi pushing it to pieces. Its momentum slightly reduced, it bounced once more, overturning the fourth cart before its force rapidly waned. It bounced up again, carrying away the legs and arms of several more booi, then rolled forward along the ground for several paces before finally crushing a booi's foot and coming to a stop.

Then three more thunderous reports rang out in succession. Three cannonballs flew up from the city wall and plunged one after another into the shield cart formation. After a scene of men and carts thrown into chaos, the booi pushing the carts stood frozen in place—no one dared push forward any longer. Abatai also hesitated slightly and did not urge the attack on; the entire column came to a halt.

The scene before them was too gruesome. Four cannonballs had destroyed over a dozen shield carts. Those directly struck by the projectiles numbered fully forty to fifty men, all writhing and wailing on the ground—every one of them gravely wounded with missing limbs or shattered bodies. In this age of scarce medicine and few doctors, such wounds meant death would come soon.

And that was not the end of it. Splintered wood from the destroyed carts flew in every direction. The booi all wore cloth robes, and the flying splinters either pierced men's eyes or stabbed into chests and bellies, indirectly causing another dozen or more serious injuries. Those whose arms or legs were merely stabbed by scattered splinters counted themselves extremely fortunate.

Ajige watched the scene before him with a grim face. What he had not expected was that there were cannons atop the city wall—and not just any cannons, but the very red barbarian cannons that had gravely wounded his father the Khan at Ningyuan all those years ago.

The power of these cannons was chilling. He had been right beside his father when the Khan had been struck by a bouncing cannonball; the teenage Ajige would never forget that bloody, flesh-shredding moment.

The elite Ming troops, the cannons atop the wall—all of this stirred a flicker of doubt in Ajige: Could the Ming army have been prepared all along, knowing that he would come with his troops?

But he immediately dismissed the thought.

Impossible! Absolutely impossible! All of this was coincidence! It had to be!

With this thought, Ajige gave his orders in a deep voice: "Sitku! Take ten white bayara up there and cut down the heads of those cowards who shrink back! Tell Abatai! The Ming cannons need several hundred breaths before they can fire again! Once you're close, they can't hit you at all!"

Sitku, a personal guard in white armor of towering, sturdy build, selected ten white-armored soldiers and spurred his horse forward, quickly reaching the middle of the front formation.

Sitku dismounted, drew his blade, and charged into the crowd of booi at the very front of the shield cart formation. His long saber swept down in a horizontal cut—a booi with a face full of panic didn't even manage a cry before his head, the size of a bucket, tumbled to the ground. A fountain of blood a foot high sprayed from his neck stump, and his body slowly toppled over.

The ten white bayara also drew their blades and hacked about, cutting down dozens in an instant.

The crowd of booi scattered in terror. Sitku raised his blade and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Any who shrink back will be beheaded! Forward!"

Abatai was also a veteran of many battles. Seeing Sitku execute the booi, a wave of shame washed over him—how could a true Eight Banners warrior fear life and death! He bellowed the order to advance, and under the threat of dripping blades, the booi began pushing the shield carts forward once more.

Yangguli led over a thousand infantry of the Han Banner rapidly toward the Ming chevaux de frise. The hundred-plus men in the front ranks wielded great axes and long saws, ready to destroy the chevaux de frise array on the Ming flank, while several hundred more held wooden shields for cover. After the cannon fire had sounded, the Han Banner soldiers had already closed on the very front of the chevaux de frise array.

Sun Yingyuan saw this clearly from his high platform. At his command, his personal guards raised two black flags with both hands, and the thousand archers behind the gunner square split into two groups, each led by their own squad officers, rushing toward the rear of the chevaux de frise.

At Yangguli's shouts, the soldiers wielding axes and saws began destroying the chevaux de frise before them. The Ming archers had also reached their positions. After forming a small square, a short, piercing trumpet blast sounded, and five hundred long arrows soared into the air. Several breaths later, they turned in midair and plunged down into the Qing ranks.

With a clattering sound, most of the long arrows were blocked by the Qing soldiers' wooden shields; only a few slipped through the gaps between shields to find their marks, killing and wounding several dozen Qing soldiers. With shields for cover, the arrows' killing effect was limited. The Qing soldiers in the front ranks hacked and sawed with all their might—over a dozen chevaux de frise had already been destroyed, and the fifteen hundred Mongol Banners had begun forming up, ready to mount and charge at any moment.

The official army's archers loosed several volleys, killing and wounding only a hundred-odd Qing soldiers, most struck in the limbs with injuries that were not severe. By now the Qing army had destroyed nearly ten paces' worth of the fifty-to-sixty-pace-long chevaux de frise array. The same situation was playing out on the other flank. If this continued, within less than a quarter-hour, the chevaux de frise array would be completely destroyed.

Sun Yingyuan decisively ordered the grenadiers into action. Two hundred grenadiers in front-buttoning cotton armor, led by their squad officers, hurried to both flanks respectively.

Seeing that the Ming archers had exhausted their strength, Yangguli loudly ordered the front ranks to rotate and dismantle the chevaux de frise as quickly as possible. Behind him, the Mongol Banners had already begun checking their bows, arrows, and blades, preparing to mount and charge.