The effect on the Tuigan horses was more impressive than the number of casualties, however. Horrified whinnies and terrified neighs filled the valley. Thousands of mounts threw their riders, and hundreds of riders died beneath their beasts' frightened hooves. Many of the barbarians thrust their bows into their holsters, and used both hands to grab for their reins in a futile attempt to control their mounts. Only a few of the horsewarriors could keep their thoughts on the Shou.
Without looking away from the battle, Hsuang said, "Have the archers open fire."
His aide relayed the message to the appropriate standard-bearers. An instant later, the distinctive bass snaps of ten-thousand bows vibrated up the hill. A flock of shafts sailed over the brook and struck the wall of horsemen. Thousands of riders fell, and more panic spread through the lines as wounded and terrified horses turned to flee.
"Shall I fire the catapults?" Tzu Cheng asked eagerly. "A few more explosions will route the enemy."
"No," Hsuang replied, lifting a restraining hand.
As of yet, the enemy had not regained control of their horses. He saw no use in chasing them away before the archers could take full advantage of the barbarian disarray.
Another flight of arrows struck the enemy line. Several thousand riders fell, but Hsuang could see the horsewarriors calming their mounts. Loud noises might disturb Tuigan horses, but the beasts were accustomed to men dying upon their backs.
The archers fired another volley, killing even more barbarians than they had with the first two. Hsuang nodded to Cheng. "Loose your thunder bombs," he said.
Tzu Cheng relayed the message to his adjutant, and a moment later his standard waved. The artillerists touched their torches to the wicks of the small iron balls resting in their engines' spoons.
The engine commanders released their windlass locks. As the spoon bars slammed against the cross pieces, a series of deep thumps rolled across the hilltop.
One cross piece splintered. The bomb landed in front of the catapult and exploded, spraying hot shrapnel in all directions. Fifty feet away, a ball of flame engulfed four more catapults. A series of lesser explosions followed. An instant later, the splintered remains of four artillery pieces were raining down on the entire line of artillerymen.
Fortunately, that was the only misfire. Most of the bombs hit near the barbarian lines. At least half of the fuses went out before the missiles reached their targets. These powder pods simply burst on impact, spraying black sand everywhere. Of the bombs that did explode, very few landed close enough to inflict any casualties upon the enemy. Some even exploded in the air, over the Tuigan's heads.
The bombs' inaccuracy did not diminish their effect, however. The enemy's horses went wild, throwing their riders. Many thousands bolted, helpless men clinging to their backs. Within seconds, the Tuigan cavalry was fleeing in an uncontrolled panic.
Tzu Cheng smiled triumphantly. "With the miracle of alchemy, we are undefeatable."
"For now," Hsuang said, casting a sidelong glance at the destruction caused by the single misfired bomb. To his dismay, he caught sight of the wagon that carried the Mirror of Shao. The driver was sprawled on the ground next to the seat. The cart sat lopsided where the axle had broken and a wheel had fallen off. The broken end of a catapult spoon lay among the shattered remains of the mirror.
For a long moment, Hsuang could only stare in horror and astonishment at the smashed mirror. To keep from yelling at Tzu Cheng, he had to remind himself that he was the one who had forgotten to move the mirror when he decided to try the thunder-powder bombs.
A roar of triumph rolled up the hill, bringing the old noble to his senses. He turned back to the battle. Behind the barricades, the soldiers were screaming in jubilation. Over ten thousand barbarians lay dead in the fields, and the Shou casualties had been light. Hsuang could understand their elation, but he knew the victory was only temporary.
In front of the bridge, a handful of men began to run after the barbarians. More followed suit. In seconds, the entire force detailed to defend the bridge was charging after the retreating cavalry.
"I didn't give the order to advance!" Hsuang gasped. "What are they doing?"
"What they're trained to do," said the noble who commanded the bridge guards. "They're destroying a disorganized enemy."
The armies to either side of the bridge also leaped over their barricades to pursue the barbarians.
"No!" Hsuang cried, turning to his subordinates. "Call them back!"
"Why?" asked Cheng.
Hsuang was too astounded to answer. The Book of Heaven urged its readers to pursue and destroy a disorganized enemy. Unfortunately, it had not been written with the Tuigan in mind. Against superior numbers of mounted men, pursuit could easily turn into a trap. It had never occurred to Hsuang that he and his nobles might rout the enemy, so he had neglected to discuss this point with his subcommanders. He feared he would pay dearly for the mistake.
Hsuang turned to his adjutant. "Send runners to every commander on the line. They are not to pursue."
"Tzu Hsuang!" Cheng objected, daring to grasp his superior's sleeve. "Now is no time for timidity. We have the enemy in our hands."
Hsuang jerked his sleeve out of the man's grip. "Then we are about to lose our hands," he replied sharply. He looked at his adjutant. "What are you waiting for?"
The aide bowed and went about the task with a vigor appropriate to its importance. Unfortunately, even the most dedicated adjutant could not have prevented what followed. Every army behind the front barricade followed the bridge soldiers. By the time the runners arrived with Hsuang's order, the front barricade was deserted. The second rank of defenders was working its way across the brook to join them.
The messengers managed to recall the second line of pengs, but the bridge troops had already led the first rank into the dark, smoking barley fields.
As Hsuang watched fifteen thousand men disappear into the smoky twilight, he said, "Lords, I must regretfully order you to prepare to fall back."
The other nobles stared at him with expressions ranging from astonishment to open fury. "This is madness!" Cheng said. "We're winning this battle."
"No," Hsuang replied. "The battle was lost before we reached Shihfang. Now it is a disaster."
"What do you mean?" asked Cheng. The man's expression was thoughtful and concerned.
Hsuang did not need to answer. The ground began to rumble, as if the spirits had sent a terrible earthquake to shake the nobles to their senses. An instant later, the pained and horrified screams of dying men rolled across the dark fields. The rumble grew more distinct; there could be no doubt that tens of thousands of pounding hooves caused it.
Moments later, dozens of Shou pengs appeared out of the smoke. They had thrown down their weapons and were running for the Shou lines, arrows sailing about their heads like a swarm of insects.
Tzu Cheng bowed very low to Hsuang. "I will send the order to destroy the bridge," he said. "Our best chance is to flee under cover of darkness."
10
The Spy
"Qwo, what is troubling you?" Wu asked, her voice a frustrated hiss as she struggled with her samfu. Wu's fingers were trembling so much that she could not thread the tog-buttons through their holes.
Without answering the question, Qwo gently pulled Wu's hands aside and began fastening the samfu. The gray-haired servant studiously avoided the eyes of her mistress, a sure sign that she disapproved of Wu's intentions.
"It distresses me when you are sullen," Wu continued, letting her hands drop to her sides. "Please say what you are thinking."
Qwo finished closing the samfu, then stepped back and studied Wu with watery eyes. Though not yet sixty, the servant appeared much older. Her gray hair was thin and coarse, and her doughy skin was fallen and creased with age. She had the hunched back and stooped shoulders of a woman twenty years her senior.