Chapter 261: Recapturing Taiyuan (Part One)

"Form ranks, form ranks!" Niu Wancai was a veteran of countless battles, having been on the battlefield innumerable times. He sized up the situation with a glance, estimated the speed of the enemy cavalry's advance, and knew that this distance would be covered by these horsemen in the blink of an eye.

Taiyuan was too large a city, and the one drawback of such a great city was that it had too many city gates.

General of the Left Martial Might Lin Yangcheng held the eastern Yichun Gate, while the other commanders split up to guard the western Zhenwu and northern Zhenyuan Gates. The Dashun army did not have many men here either—only some seventy to eighty thousand.

Of these seventy to eighty thousand, most were refugee battalions of weak fighting strength, with the veteran camps making up less than one-fifth. Although Lin Yangcheng had rushed over upon hearing the news, Niu Wancai knew that the soldiers atop the wall still needed some time to pull the winch and close the gates. At a moment like this, if they wanted to hold the gate, they could only rely on their formation to withstand the assault.

"The official army's cavalry is all bluster, brothers! The Dashing King will be here soon—kill these dog soldiers, and I'll claim the merit for you before the Dashing King!" Niu Wancai's heart was already pounding with fear as he looked at this cavalry he had never encountered before, yet the face he showed remained as fierce as ever.

"Kill the soldiers!"

"Kill the soldiers!"

When facing the official army, the Dashun soldiers had long since lost their former fear. On the contrary, having fought the official army for years, they naturally knew that Niu Wancai spoke the truth—the official army was all bluster in nearly every battle.

Take the Battle of Zhuxian Town, for instance. Ningnan Earl Zuo Liangyu claimed to command several hundred thousand troops, while the Dashing army at the time had only a hundred-odd thousand.

And indeed, that was how it played out on the battlefield. When Zuo's army moved, their banners blotted out the sky and the sun, and all one could see was the dust kicked up by Zuo's cavalry columns. But once the fighting began, Zuo's various commanders would each fight their own separate battles, looking at each other across the mountains and rivers—they collapsed even faster than the Dashun army's refugee battalions.

Through years of maneuvering and fighting against the official army, most of the Dashun forces only feared the troops under a very small number of official commanders.

Men like Cao Wenzhao, Cao Bianjiao, Lu Xiangsheng, Sun Chuanting, Meng Ruhu, He Renlong, and Chen Qiyu—their subordinates were always bound by strict discipline, enjoyed the support of the common people, and their commanders were both brave and resourceful, extremely difficult to deal with.

Yet nearly all of these men had been systematically destroyed one by one by the Chongzhen Emperor in history. Of those still alive who could make the Dashun commanders wary, there was in truth only Chen Qiyu left.

As for the rest—Mu Wenshou, Gao Jie, Bai Guangen and the like—they were old rivals of the Dashun army, with victories and defeats on both sides, but they were nowhere near the level of the Elder and Younger Cao, whose very appearance would strike terror into the hearts of the Dashun forces.

Urged on vigorously by Niu Wancai, roughly a thousand or so Dashun sword-and-shield soldiers quickly descended from the wall. On both flanks, soldiers bearing large shields held a blade in one hand and a shield in the other, pressing several great shields together to seal off the city gate completely.

Niu Wancai himself stood on the front line, shouting orders behind him for the soldiers to close the gates as quickly as possible while keeping his eyes fixed on the movements of the cavalry before him.

These sword-and-shield troops were Niu Wancai's most battle-hardened subordinates, veterans who had followed him for years across the length and breadth of the land. Bringing them out now was clearly Niu Wancai's remedial measure after realizing he had fallen for Bai Guangen's provocation.

The Dashun sword-and-shield men moved with exceptional skill, several of them pressing their shields tightly together. They too knew the enemy was cavalry, and past experience told them that a standard formation was usually enough to withstand a charge by official cavalry.

From afar on horseback, Wurimai, the current chieftain of the Doyan tribes, stared intently at the Dashun sword-and-shield soldiers who had lined up in a row clustered at the mouth of the city gate. His expression was unusually solemn—it seemed these roving bandits were indeed as Governor-General Chen had said, not to be underestimated.

Estimating the distance to be only about a hundred and fifty paces now, Wurimai glanced at the Ming cavalry of Gao Jie's force following behind him, and then at the main body of the official army advancing in orderly ranks further back. He raised the crescent saber that symbolized the Doyan tribe and shouted at the top of his lungs:

"Warriors of Doyan, let these bandits witness the might of the Doyan iron cavalry—kill!"

The Doyan cavalrymen excitedly brandished their curved sabers, each shouting bird-like cries that no one could understand. Like ravenous wolves spotting a flock of sheep, they charged over with reddened eyes.

In that final stretch of a hundred and fifty paces, the Doyan horsemen began repeatedly digging their spurs into their mounts' flanks to achieve maximum impact on their initial charge.

Some of the veteran Doyan riders even swung their lasso ropes in wide arcs from afar, looking for all the world like they were out on a hunting expedition—in their eyes, these bandits were hardly worthy of being called enemies at all.

The Dashun soldiers atop the wall had long since been poised for battle, thrusting their bows and firearms out through the crenellations of the parapet, aiming at the sea of Doyan cavalry before them.

Perhaps out of nervousness, a few scattered shots rang out the moment the Doyan cavalry began their charge. After those few sounds, as insignificant as mosquitoes buzzing past one's ear, came the thunderous volley of firearms and cannons firing in great numbers.

"Bang bang bang—"

These Dashun soldiers did not manufacture their own firearms. The cannons were old pieces the official army had left on the city walls, and most of the bows and firearms in their hands were also captured from the official army. After years of exposure to wind and rain and constant use, their quality and power could well be imagined.

The first to suffer casualties was the Dashun army—they encountered the same predicament the official army faced when defending cities: firearms exploding in the barrel.

Perhaps even Lin Yangcheng had never imagined he would one day be forced to defend a city to the death. In the eyes of the Dashun army, aside from other peasant rebel forces, the only enemy was the official army.

The Qing barbarians beyond the passes and the Mongols of the north were still too far away—nearly nine-tenths of the Dashun army had never fought them. Even the so-called Yongchang Emperor Li Zicheng himself had said that the eastern barbarians and the official army were birds of a feather, nothing to worry about.

When the sounds rang out, Wurimai and his men felt a moment of alarm, but after the noise subsided, the Doyan cavalrymen patted their chests to find their armor perfectly intact, and immediately burst into laughter.

"The bandits are this weak—soldiers, follow me and kill them!"

Seeing that the Doyan cavalry was about to make contact with Niu Wancai's force at the city gate, Gao Jie in the rear could no longer sit still. Having dismissed Chen Qiyu's warning, he led the thousand-odd cavalry he had scraped together from his command and charged forward.

The soldiers at the very front are always the first to die. Every war, every army has such men, and victories are always built upon the lives of these soldiers who die first.

As the distance closed, the thousand-odd crenellations atop Taiyuan's walls finally proved their worth. Countless lead shot flew out amid Lin Yangcheng's desperate roars, and in an instant, the Doyan cavalrymen, who had never suffered such an assault, were thrown into chaos—men and horses tumbling, screams of agony ringing out without end.

After paying the price of some eighty-odd riders, Wurimai charged to within sight of Niu Wancai.

Only at this moment did Niu Wancai see clearly what manner of man he was about to fight to the death. The barbarian before him, who was likewise staring at him, was tall and powerfully built—even Niu Wancai could not match his stature.

Those eyes, fierce as a tiger's and sharp as a hawk's, fixed upon him, giving Niu Wancai the feeling of having become prey. These men were not Han Chinese—they were barbarians from beyond the passes!

"Could it be that the court has already made peace with the Qing barbarians and joined forces to exterminate us?"

Niu Wancai could not fathom how these fierce outland cavalrymen had come to be in the imperial army, nor why these barbarians would fearlessly serve as their vanguard. What in the world had that dog emperor done to make these barbarians so utterly devoted to him?

"Hahaha, come on!"

Among the Doyan cavalrymen who had charged to within a dozen or so paces, a portion burst into laughter and, in unison, whirled their ropes several times before hurling them out.

To the ordinary eye, these ropes seemed to waver unpredictably and were extremely difficult to control, but in the hands of these Doyan horsemen of superb equestrian skill, they flew like arrows loosed from a bow, finding with precision the necks of the Dashun sword-and-shield soldiers arrayed beneath the gate arch.

The hooks at the ends of the ropes bore fine barbs—tools the Doyan people used to subdue unruly lead rams—and hurled at this moment, they proved devastatingly effective.

When the lasso looped around their necks, nearly every Dashun sword-and-shield soldier's instinctive reaction was to reach up and try to untie it. But in doing so, they were forced to let go of their great shields and long blades.

And even if they set down their shields and blades to try to untie the ropes, the moment they touched the barbs on the ropes, their hands would be torn to bloody shreds.

At this point, the Doyan cavalrymen who had thrown the lassos burst into laughter once more, then each wheeled their horses around and galloped away from the battlefield, heading off in two opposite directions.

As they sped away, the Dashun sword-and-shield soldiers who had been caught found to their horror that they were being dragged off the battlefield one by one. Aside from a few quick-witted men who desperately hacked through the lassos, the rest were utterly powerless to stop it.

The formation Niu Wancai had so carefully arranged—the iron-bucket formation that had proven itself time and again in years of fighting the official army—was broken in an instant by these barbarians.