Chapter 731: Killing the Hunter

At noon the following day.

At the foot of Horse Mane Mountain, a three-chi-high platform had been raised.

Batch after batch of Baturs who had distinguished themselves in battle were granted waist tallies and brocade commissions by Liu Chengzong.

They were immediately formed into an independent camp, with over a hundred meritorious soldiers drawn from the Yulin, Huben, and Northern Yuan camps to serve as officers, subordinated directly to the Central Army and placed under the command of Left Liangyu, the Eastern Palace Horse-Groomer.

Wu Sihu of the Northern Yuan Camp had made things clear to the Southern Desert nobles: by law, every one of them deserved punishment. The Great Khan refrained from punishing them only because he remembered their great merit in offering allegiance when it was most needed, and was willing to bear the reputation of unclear rewards and punishments for their sake.

He hoped they would return and govern their Tumen well, and in the future earn more merit to wash away the shame they had brought upon the Great Khan.

Of course, that was how it was phrased, but in truth they had not brought Liu the Lion any real shame.

Unclear rewards and punishments usually means those who deserved reward went unrewarded, which then leads people to think those who deserved punishment went unpunished.

The Marshal Army's officers had their attention fixed inside the passes. For most of the old brothers, all they needed was a stable Southern Desert — whether it was twenty-three Tumen or twenty-three bandit dens made no difference to them.

The only ones who would think Liu the Lion's rewards and punishments were unclear were the old Chahar loyalists in the Northern Yuan Camp.

This was because many soldiers in the Northern Yuan Camp could not figure out their own standing. Once Liu Chengzong transferred over forty soldiers from the Northern Yuan Camp and promoted them to officers in the Batur Camp, they had no more complaints about the matter.

They even felt the Southern Desert Corps ought to reward a few more camps, just to free up some officer posts.

In truth, Liu Chengzong had no choice either.

His Huben Camp might not contain many of the world's most outstanding Han officers.

But the world's finest Mongol officers were certainly, for the most part, in his Northern Yuan Camp.

Across the entire Southern Desert, with thirty to forty thousand fighting men, you could not pick out a thousand with surnames; yet over half the Northern Yuan Camp were Borjigin.

If officers did not come from here, where else could they come from? He could hardly transfer Oirat officers from the northern foothills of the Heavenly Mountains, could he?

Then there was Left Liangyu. Left Liangyu had an objection, and it had nothing to do with the Southern Desert army — he simply felt he had more important things to do than be a Horse-Groomer.

No sooner had he voiced his objection than he was made a Mobile Corps Commander of the Batur Camp. Though it was a small camp within a small camp, totaling just over twelve hundred men, and all Tatar soldiers at that, once those twelve-hundred-odd Baturs were placed in his hands, the heart Left Liangyu had kept suspended ever since his capture finally settled.

The Grand Marshal distinguishes reward from punishment clearly — truly the bearing of a worthy sovereign!

Whoever says his rewards and punishments are unclear, he will be the first to argue.

In fact, Liu Chengzong had never intended this Batur Camp to storm stockades and break formations.

It was an army school on campaign — picking the tallest among the Southern Desert's short, drawing out the thousand-plus best fighters to study military regulations, codes, command, and drill, doing his best to cultivate some teachable talent.

After all, the Southern Desert Army's foundation was far too poor; there were hardly any proper troops to begin with.

Only the Ordos nobles led by Erinchen, and the Tumed nobles led by Ombu, held a portion of regular troops in their hands.

But by the inertia of the steppe, even when they went on campaign they had to guard against the new nobles Liu Chengzong had enfeoffed, keeping their most elite men and horses back home to guard the tents.

On the contrary, the roughneck troublemakers who came from the Northern Desert were the most zealous in answering the Grand Marshal's call — yet when they fought, they also fought most like horse-bandits.

These soldier-chiefs, after all, could at best be called skilled in bow and horse with a rough grasp of killing. Their understanding of war was limited to raiding and battue hunting.

Of course, battue hunting and raiding do bear a resemblance to warfare — they are tactics and logistics with the distinctive character of tribal feuding.

But war is far more than that alone.

If the steppe still had a few great tribes like the Kharchin that could serve as opponents for the Southern Desert Army, then in battle some capable generals and units would quickly emerge among them.

But the steppe no longer had such opponents. What they needed to face was the Eight Banners of Manchuria, a military organization of extreme maturity.

Their opportunity to grow was thus hobbled.

The Southern Desert was the most critical military buffer zone. Its vast lands and grasslands could, to the greatest extent, constrain any enemy seeking to raid the Central Plains.

To be able to have an army in the Southern Desert loyal to oneself — even if that army was utterly untamed — it had to be held firmly in hand.

Besides, Liu the Lion knew very well that these men were not yet truly untamed toward him.

The Southern Desert troops had suffered considerable losses in this campaign, and now over a thousand Baturs had been drawn away from them. Men exhausted, horses spent, they were at their lowest combat effectiveness; there was certainly no role for them on the main battlefield.

Liu Chengzong thus planned to transfer them west of the Khingan Range, to garrison Ujumchin, guarding against Banner troops infiltrating across the border through the mountain passes while also keeping watch on Sholoi's Setsen Khan Tribe to the north.

The precise intelligence that Ajige was leading troops west had been passed to him by Sholoi through Subadi.

When Subadi reached the City of Submission, he sent men back to mobilize troops. This could not be concealed from Sholoi — that fellow had known from the very start that a great battle was coming to the Southern Desert.

Sholoi was surely watching the situation.

Liu the Lion judged that Sholoi had ambition, was a little short on courage, but was extremely decisive.

When Ligdan Khan died in Qinghai, Sholoi had, the very moment he received the news, wanted to inherit the Great Khan's tent.

So Liu Chengzong estimated that the Setsen Tribe was unlikely to send troops — whichever side he helped, Sholoi would not dare. But using the opportunity of the two armies clashing at the Khingan Range to nibble away at the Southern Desert pastures bordering his own — of that, he likely had ample nerve.

Yet there were those in the Southern Desert Army unwilling to be transferred away from the main theater: the petty nobles of the Ordos Tribe.

Erinchen's several nephews — Shandan, Little Jamusu, and the rest — upon hearing they were to follow the Southern Desert Army west of the range, all rushed to express their wish to remain and serve at the front.

Liu the Lion thought to himself, you little brats left your own uncle on the battlefield and paid him no mind — what service am I supposed to keep you at the front for?

But on second thought, with Erinchen not yet returned, it would not be appropriate to transfer all the Ordos people to the rear either.

So he said to them, "If you wish to remain at the front, that is easily said. Now that the pastures of southern Khorchin lie empty, if you few have the nerve, recruit soldiers from the Southern Desert Army and form a Darkhan Army. Roam freely across the Khorchin grasslands, even as far as Shenyang. You are all of noble birth — you know what a Darkhan Army does, yes?"

Darkhan, like Batur, was a type of noble title in Mongol society.

Batur meant brave and skilled in battle, while Darkhan meant a free man, a title once bestowed by the Borjigin in gratitude to those who had saved their lives.

It carried no obligations, only privileges: a guardsman could bear a quiver, keep all spoils of the hunt and plunder for himself, was exempt from punishment for nine crimes, free from taxes, could enter the palace forbidden grounds at any time, and could freely choose his pasture.

By the Ming dynasty, the Northern Yuan still had such titles. One who rescued his own taiji on the battlefield would be granted the title of Darkhan.

But apart from the title, the Yuan dynasty also had a military branch called the Darkhan Army.

This branch was far less glorious. It was not part of the regular army — temporarily recruited men who supplied their own armor and horses, received no rations or pay, and were not entered into the household registers. They served as roving troops to swell the host's numbers, profiting by plunder, with all goods seized before the army belonging to themselves.

In practice, it was a large-scale bandit gang operating alongside official campaigns — which was exactly what the Southern Desert cavalry were currently doing for Liu Chengzong.

Yet when Shandan and the others heard the name "Darkhan Army," their expressions all froze.

The Ordos Tribe was one of the few Tumen in the Northern Yuan with any connection to cultural tradition. These nobles of Golden Lineage descent all knew what the Darkhan Army was.

The Yuan dynasty had repeatedly recruited Darkhan Armies for campaigns. Whether in the western expeditions, the invasion of the Southern Song, or the suppression of rebellions at the end of the Yuan, these units had played pivotal roles — extremely useful.

But that was from the perspective of the Golden Lineage.

The Dala Khan army was certainly useful — like an army picked up for free. They followed the main force on campaign, required no pay or provisions, formed no formal units, and needed no rewards. You only had to tell them where to attack. As long as they could win, they would pounce and tear the enemy to shreds.

The problem was that no Dala Khan army ever met a good end.

The poor discipline of the Monan cavalry was not because Erenchin or the other myriarchs didn't want discipline to improve.

It was because they had been formed too recently and had only fought these few battles as a group. Their coordination was terrible, and the entire army was still stuck in the phase of proving to their own tribesmen that they were qualified leaders.

From top to bottom, no one had enough authority to control the army, so naturally they had no ability to enforce restraint.

What is called leadership is the ability to make others trust and obey your orders. Monan had no such person.

If Yang Qi had not fled back to Xi'an, then at least everyone would know who he was and what he had done. He might have had the ability to command awe across this land.

Those chiliarchs and myriarchs could not even claim the full trust of their own subordinates, let alone make others trust them.

In fact, with the disappearance of the Monan cavalry's commander Erenchin and the deaths of myriarchs and chiliarchs in battle, discipline was actually improving.

The smaller their units, the better their discipline. The few dozen cavalry under a chiliarch were nothing more than a tight-knit little gang.

So the discipline of the Monan cavalry was simply a military problem.

But the discipline of a Dala Khan army was a political problem.

The military law of a Dala Khan army consisted of just four words: unbridled and unrestrained.

Their very foundation was plunder. Maintaining discipline would only starve them to death. If they couldn't defeat the enemy, they would be wiped out. If they defeated all enemies, they would be disbanded for being unable to maintain discipline. If they didn't want to be disbanded, the court would treat them as rebels and pacify them.

In the early Yuan, a Dala Khan army invaded Huguang and was sent to fight the Tu and Miao. The Tu and Miao were in the mountains, so the army plundered the countryside and merged with the Tu and Miao. Later called the Miao Army, they killed provincial officials and sacked great cities, and were put down and destroyed by the Yuan in a pacification campaign.

When invading Hainan, a Dala Khan army was formed to fight the local Li troops. After the Li were defeated, the army was transferred to Guangxi. With no battles to fight, they became too large to control. The Yuan had no choice but to issue pay — seventeen years of pay and provisions — and in the end labeled them the Yao Rebellion and wiped them out.

Later, at the end of the Yuan, Dala Khan troops were recruited again to suppress rebellions. This time their opponents were Zhang Shicheng and Zhu Yuanzhang, and they were crushed long before the end.

This was truly seeing death at a single glance.

The campaign enthusiasm of the few men instantly waned. Better to go back to the Ordos and raise sheep than become a Dala Khan army.

In the end, it was little Jamusu, the most fervent about the campaign, who asked: "Great Khan, if we form a Dala Khan army, I wonder... where will we end up in the end?"

"Afraid of having no battles to fight? You've got spirit!"

Liu Chengzong laughed and looked at Jamusu's face, still bearing a boyish naivety. "Do you think you can destroy the Later Jin, or that I can utterly crush them in war?"

"Ligdan Khan's Chahar was a fierce tiger driving greedy wolves. Even such a rabble would not be crushed in a single day."

He raised his whip and pointed into the distance, his gaze seeming to cross the vast grasslands and rolling mountains. "But the Manchu Eight Banners are clever, seasoned hunters. Hunters have traps, deer herds, and hounds, and never fear fierce tigers or jackals."

Liu Chengzong spoke these cryptic words to little Jamusu, then turned away under the latter's bewildered gaze and spread his horsewhip toward the west.

"I will build a city in the Khingan Range. The Dala Khan army will operate east of the range, from the Nen River to the Liao River. They will not engage the Great Ming, nor will they be permitted to plunder the Reindeer, Dog, and Fishskin Tatars to the east. They will avoid the Eight Banners' main force and raid everyone who has submitted to the Eight Banners."

"Plunder livestock, seize women and children, burn crops, kill soldiers."

"From Xi'an to Xanadu, there will be a trade route. Markets will open twice a year, exclusively for the Dala Khan army to sell spoils and purchase armor, weapons, and supplies."

"You may recruit from Monan, or absorb deserters from the Great Ming's border walls, or recruit from the Reindeer, Dog, and Fishskin lands to the east. All are good men."

Liu Chengzong turned around and slowly swept his hand from right to left. "If you encounter the Eight Banners and cannot defeat them, hide from east of the range to west of the range. Those forts will stop them. When they withdraw, strike out again."

"Dismantle the hunter's traps, seize the hunter's deer herd, kill the hunter's good hounds, and the hunter will die."

Little Jamusu, who feared nothing in heaven or on earth, slowly swallowed his saliva, the sound audible to everyone.

Liu Chengzong had described to him a story of jackals biting a traveler to death — seizing the chance to bite the leg, then following slowly, watching the man bleed out in despair.

But little Jamusu was clever. He knew the role he played in this story was the jackal, but this land held more than just jackals.

There was also that vulture dozing on the roof of the central army command tent.

When the traveler died, the vulture would swoop down, drive off the jackals, and feast on the corpse.

When that time came, they would be useless. Where would they go then?

Of course, that was far off. At least for now, forming a Dala Khan army under Liu Chengzong's rule would give him far greater power and status than the Ordos under Erenchin's rule.

But just as little Jamusu nodded and saluted, he heard Liu Chengzong say: "As for when the war ends, there will be a place for you on the Khorchin grasslands. Those willing to stay — their leaders will be enfeoffed as Prince of Dala Khan. They will not govern tribesmen or territory, but will receive stipends and enjoy ceremonial honors, with hereditary succession permitted."

"The tribesmen will form the Dala Khan Tribe, each assigned grazing lands. Whatever tax the Monan tribes pay, the Dala Khan Tribe will pay only half."

"If by then some are unwilling to return to farming and herding, a new Dala Khan Tribe will be formed and sent north of the Tianshan Mountains to continue campaigning westward. In short... I will always have places to fight and will dispatch you there."

Enfeoffed as Prince of Dala Khan?

This title surprised little Jamusu and the minor nobles behind him.

They had thought the reward Liu Chengzong offered would be enfeoffing the leader as Khan of Dala Khan, not Prince of Dala Khan... In the feudal hierarchy Liu Chengzong currently controlled, it seemed he himself was not even a prince yet.

But that didn't matter. By marching his army into Monan and deploying troops at the Khingan Range, Liu Chengzong had already declared to all of Monan through action that everyone was under his protection.

In this world, no one else had greater authority here than he did.

Anyone who disagreed could take it up with sixty thousand troops.

In fact, it was more than sixty thousand.

Just as the Ordos nobles — Jamusu, Shandan, and others — were receiving the position of Dala Khan army commander from the central army, outpost cavalry on alert outside the camp gate delivered news from Xanadu.

The reinforcements from Mobei had arrived.

Good evening!

(End of chapter)