Chapter 1432: Assaulting the Formation

Yue Tuo had certainly considered whether this large wagon convoy was a deliberate ambush, so he needed speed — send the cavalry in for a quick decisive battle, sweep away this large convoy of theirs, and then even if there was an ambush they could still pull back.

In this battle Yue Tuo had a ninety percent chance of victory; at the very worst he could seize supplies and return, and with spoils in hand he would at least have something to report back home.

Cavalry against infantry escorting large wagons, and with superior numbers at that — factoring in the cavalry's speed and impact force, how could they possibly lose?

Even having calculated to this extent, Yue Tuo still dared not be the slightest bit careless. As the cavalry advanced through the hilly terrain, scouts spread out in all directions precisely out of fear of ambushing troops. The infantry had also advanced to the edge of this mountain region — if fighting broke out, they would have to force their way in to break a siege. The main cavalry force never sped up, and only when the scouts from the southern flatlands reported back that there was indeed no ambush did they begin spurring their horses to a gallop and advancing at speed.

"That large wagon convoy isn't moving fast!" the scouts reported back.

The company commanders and platoon commanders leading the troops could already see the other side from a distance, and everyone could not help but grow excited — up ahead, that large wagon convoy had already stopped.

This was nothing strange. In this flat terrain, with several thousand cavalry charging forward, the ground tremors could not be much dampened even by the accumulated snow. Besides, with such a massive, imposing force, starkly visible against the snow, how could they not have been spotted?

And if that convoy had any experience at all, seeing scattered enemy riders circling around them would have let them guess the situation. By now, no matter how they reacted, it was too late. Flee? Your large wagons crawl like turtles. Stay? What can a thousand-odd infantry do against cavalry? Unless you unhitch the draft horses from the wagons and ride them away — but draft horses and riding horses are completely different types, utterly unrideable. The vengeance for our brothers up ahead would be claimed today.

"Don't let the horses gallop, conserve their strength — they can't escape now!" There were also seasoned leaders reining everyone in. The men stayed composed and calm, holding their speed and not daring to speed up.

The Zhao Family Army's large wagon convoy seemed to have given up in despair, making no move to flee whatsoever. Instead, they arranged the large wagons into a circle, placed the livestock inside, and linked the wagons together with wooden palisades covered in cotton quilts. The wagons and palisades formed a ring of wooden walls, creating a complete defensive stockade — it looked like they were going to resist on the spot.

This Zhao Family Army wagon convoy had indeed made the optimal choice: stay put, hold their ground, and wait for reinforcements. If they could truly hold out, they might actually manage to wait until help arrived.

"These Han curs have truly lost their minds — they think they can stop us Jurchen and Mongol warriors with this? What of great cities like Shenyang and Liaoyang? What of those fortresses? Were they not swept aside in a single charge? What does your puny little wagon wooden wall amount to? Lads, let them taste a volley of arrows first!"

Seeing this scene, the lead company commanders burst into loud laughter. They raised the sabers in their hands, swung them, then circled from right to left. The men behind immediately understood how to coordinate, shouting a few calls as they began forming a column and following suit.

The Jianzhou Jurchens might not have encountered large wagon convoys often, but when ambushing enemy troops on the march, though most enemies were routed, there were always a stubborn few who knew to form a defensive formation. Dealing with such was simple enough — ride straight up close, draw bows and loose arrows in a volley, and no matter how resolute the enemy, they would be unable to hold formation under the Jurchens' heavy bows and heavy arrows. Once they collapsed, charge in and slaughter them.

This wagon formation looked well-prepared, but never mind on horseback — even on foot one could approach and lob arrows inside. They were nothing more than turtled-up targets waiting to be beaten.

It was not that no one suspected some scheme or trick, but this was a vast, empty wilderness. The nearest village was several dozen li away, and all around there was no sign of any troop movements.

The only activity was in the center of that wagon circle. From horseback, one could faintly make out signal flags waving, and the sound of gongs and horns ringing out.

The company commanders and platoon commanders, veterans of many battles, were all gritting their teeth. Even the Mongols, who had little experience with Han armed forces, felt uneasy in their hearts. A consensus was almost forming among the Jianzhou cavalry: this Zhao Family Army absolutely had to be wiped out. Leaving such a force for the future was a calamity no matter how you looked at it — their response was simply too orderly.

"Light a fire! First, pile up a fire!" a company commander bellowed the order.

Cavalry on the move found carrying fire-starting materials extremely inconvenient, and hastily kindling a fire took a great deal of time. But once they had fire, they could shoot fire-tipped heavy arrows onto the wagons and cargo — the flames would surely ride the wind, burning and scorching everything.

Even now, the cargo had not been unloaded from the large wagons. What they carried was nothing more than provisions, fodder, and cloth — all things that caught fire easily. This Zhao Family Army bunch was courting death.

The Jianzhou cavalry closed in. First, they spread out to open distance, then from horseback they nocked arrows and drew bows. Shooting arrows required both hands to leave the reins, and not every man could manage it so flawlessly. To avoid mishaps in the heat of the moment, everyone made their preparations in advance.

"Han curs climbing onto the wagon tops!" the cavalrymen at the front roared out.

"You're the cur, you Tartar bastard!" a Zhao Family Army soldier standing atop a wagon bellowed back in a curse. What this side said, the other side could hear clearly. What was truly amusing was that the curses both sides hurled were all in Mongolian.

The moment this exchange of curses ended, the Jianzhou cavalry understood. Someone roared angrily, "They're those mongrel curs from the Ordos Loop region! No wonder they could set ambushes in the snowy woods — this is their old trick!"

"Slaughter every last one of those curs! Flay their skins!" A wave of cursing erupted below, the crowd seething with fury.

To the Great Ming, everyone on the steppe was simply Mongol, but the steppe Mongols differed greatly from east to west and north to south, with tangled enmities and alliances stretching back many years. Among them, the hatred between east and west ran especially deep. The Ordos Loop and its surrounding area, where the Tumed tribe had risen, was the richest pastureland on the Mongol steppe. But when Altan Khan led the Tumed to prominence, he squeezed the Chahar tribe — who carried the orthodox bloodline of the Golden Family — eastward, reducing the legitimate line to the status of a branch.

And the Chahar tribe under Ligdan Khan, in order to maintain their dominance, had to exploit and extort all the other tribes. Back when the Chahar were in the east, the Khorchin tribe and the other native tribes had suffered terribly — that was precisely why they had thrown in their lot with the Jianzhou Jurchens.

Now Ligdan Khan had driven out the Tumed tribe and seized the Ordos Loop region. On one hand, it was to capture this core territory; on the other, it was because the Jianzhou Jurchens' overwhelming power had forced him to move.

By this point, the Khorchin regarded any Mongol tribes hailing from the Ordos Loop as mortal enemies, to be exterminated without leaving future trouble — whether it was the Tumed tribe and their vassals who had once squeezed everyone out, or the subordinates of Ligdan Khan's faction.

As for how they could tell — the accents of the various Mongol tribes were completely different, and even their word choices and sentence structures varied. The Mongol tribes themselves could distinguish these differences very clearly.

One source of the Zhao Family Army's cavalry and even infantry were the horse bandits and wandering young men from all over the Ordos Loop. Alone and without ties, they were household slaves of Zhao Jin, indebted to him for saving their lives and giving them a living — they were the most fiercely loyal of all.

The men on top of the large wagons, even as they cursed furiously, were at the same time adjusting a small cannon. This small cannon had been hidden among the cargo piles from the start, looking like nothing more than an iron tube a few hand-spans thicker than an arm — not at all conspicuous.

The Jianzhou cavalry below did not panic in the slightest over this iron tube. Even if it was a firearm, what use was such a thin firearm? Loading it would take who knew how much time, and with all the targets outside in motion, who could it even hit? Just wait until they closed in, then shoot them dead directly — it was only a few dozen paces away now, what was there to fear?

However, the loading speed up above far exceeded their expectations. Almost in the midst of the cursing, the soldiers on the wagon top lit the fuse. No matter how much they scorned this thick tube, everyone still instinctively wheeled their horses to dodge. There was always some unlucky wretch who would get hit — they only hoped it wouldn't be themselves. Next came the killing.

With a boom, the nearby cavalrymen practically saw that thick tube belch a cloud of smoke and dust. A whistling sound tore through the air, as if the thick tube had fired a spray of tiny particles moving at tremendous speed.

All they saw was the foremost several cavalrymen, along with their mounts, suddenly shudder and topple straight over. The horses behind seemed stung by something, neighing shrilly as they reared up, throwing the riders from their backs. Some unlucky ones were still caught by their stirrups, dragged along trampled and battered — they would not live long.

This thoroughly terrified everyone. How could there be a weapon like this? Looking closely at those fallen cavalrymen at the very front, their faces had been turned into pockmarked sieves, riddled with bloody holes. Had that thick tube fired grapeshot? And with such power?

"What are you all standing there dumbstruck for? Charge! He can't fire a second shot!" Someone roared out in furious urging. No matter how powerful that iron tube was, there was no time to reload and fire a second time. The speed just now meant it must have been loaded in advance. Close the distance between cavalry and wagons a bit more, and they would repay it with bows and arrows.

The cavalrymen who had been lucky enough not to be caught in the blast shouted and wheeled their horses, charging forward again. At that moment, from within the wagon convoy came the sound of rhythmic, urgent gongs. From behind the cargo piles on the wagons, from behind the wooden walls linking the wagons, Zhao Family Army soldiers wielding firelocks emerged, leveling their firelocks directly at the Jianzhou cavalry.

Firelocks? This Zhao Family Army really was cut from the same cloth as the Ming army — relying on firelocks to stop the iron cavalry of the Jurchens and Mongols? Some laughed wildly with arrogance. Some had heard comrades describe the fearsome power of the Zhao Family Army's firelocks, but always half-believed and half-doubted — now they steeled themselves and charged anyway. Others felt unease in their hearts, but having come this far, even fear left no time to dodge. And those firelocks didn't look like anything special — what harm in gambling once? After all, military law was at their backs!

But at this distance, no one had yet loosed an arrow. On a jolting horseback, a single arrow shot could hardly be called accurate — only by drawing closer could they inflict real damage.

The firelocks fired. The Jianzhou cavalry outside could not discern the signals within the convoy — they did not know whether it was the sound of gongs, whistles, shouts, or something else entirely that was the signal to open fire. But the firelocks fired!

In the minds of the Jianzhou cavalry, especially those who had never witnessed the power of the Zhao Family Army's firearms, at a distance where bows and arrows could not effectively kill, firearms were even less capable. Since they could not, then they must charge to point-blank range, loose arrows, charge home, and slaughter every enemy inside!