"We shall see soon enough," Hsuang replied, motioning to his aide to fetch a sack.

When the boy returned, his face was pale and distressed. He carried a grimy hemp sack that held something the size of a melon. The youth bowed and presented the bag to his commander.

Hsuang accepted the sack. Noting that every peng in the Twenty-Five Armies was watching him, he turned the bag over. The head of a Shou soldier tumbled out. Though Hsuang could not be sure, he a.s.sumed the head belonged to one of his scouts.

Aware that any sign of disgust or repulsion would translate into low morale, the lord calmly retrieved the grisly head and returned it to the sack. Before he could think of any encouraging words, however, the ground began to tremble.

A distant rumble came from the other side of the valley, and Hsuang's heart suddenly beat harder.

"The barbarians are coming," Cheng said, his mouth open in astonishment.

"They intend to fight a night battle!"

Dropping the sack, Hsuang ordered, "Stand ready!"

The order was unnecessary. Like their commander, all forty-five thousand of his soldiers had focused their attention on the field. The dim light and heavysmoke made it impossible to see in any detail what was happening on the opposite side of the valley. To Hsuang, it seemed as though the far hill had come alive and was rolling toward them. His feet began to tingle, and the rumble grew increasingly thunderous. Two hundred yards in front of the first barricade, a teeming ma.s.s of galloping horses became visible in the smol- dering barley fields.

Hsuang nodded to the n.o.ble commanding the rocketeers. "Fire when ready," he said to the nan.

The n.o.ble lifted his arm to signal, then looked twenty feet down the slope to where his standard-bearer stood. The nan did not give the order to fire, however. Though his rockets were more powerful than normal arrows, they were less accurate and had a shorter range.

The barbarians emerged from the smoke completely, riding shoulder to shoulder. They had let their reins fall free and were using both hands to nock arrows in their bows. In the deepening twilight, the riders' bulky silhouettes made them look like no more than shadows. Their line stretched for an entire mile down the valley, and Hsuang thought he could see several more ranks emerging from the smoke. At a minimum, the charge numbered sixty thousand men.

Eyeing the approaching wall of hors.e.m.e.n, Cheng said, "The enemy has committed his entire army. We'll destroy them in a single battle!"

"What makes you think this is the Tuigan's entire army?" Hsuang asked.

His eyes remained fixed on the valley below.

Cheng did not answer. Like Hsuang and the others, he was waiting for the rockets to fire. The rocketeers stood behind the far barricade, separated from the closest conventional troops by gaps of twenty or thirty yards. Each man's kettle held thirty arrows and sat braced atop the barricade. The small end of each kettle was packed with thunder-powder. When the wick was lit, the powder would ignite, shooting the arrows out with incredible force. Or at least that was the theory.

When the barbarians approached to within seventy-five yards of the first barricade, their entire line suddenly reined their horses to a halt.

"What are they doing?" Hsuang demanded, angrily pointing at the enemy.

"Why stop a charge in midstride?"

No one could answer.

The air resonated with the tw.a.n.g of sixty thousand Tuigan bowstrings. A black swarm of arrows sailed toward the first barricade. All along the line, men screamed in agony and fell. Hundreds of motionless Shou slipped into the brook and began to drift downstream.

"We cannot wait for the rocketeers any longer!" Hsuang snapped, chastising himself for allowing the barbarians to strike the first blow.

"They're barely within range," the nan objected, still holding his signal arm aloft. "If we wait just a little longer-"

"They're as close as they're going to come," Hsuang yelled, pointing at the stationary line. "Give the order!"

Frowning, the n.o.ble looked toward his standard-bearer and dropped his arm. An instant later, the turtle and shark crest began swaying from side to side.

The rocketeers touched their torches to the wicks. A series of booms and claps echoed through the valley, and great billows of black smoke rose intothe air.

Hsuang could barely believe the results. In ten places, the kettles exploded instantly, flinging chunks of log and stray arrows in all directions. The rocketeers simply disappeared with the rest of the debris, and all that remained where they had stood were gaping holes in the barricade.

When the kettles did not explode, they sprayed their arrows out in an erratic, cone-shaped pattern that usually fell far short of the barbarian lines.

The rockets that did reach the enemy, however, were effective. Nearly twenty riders sprouted arrows and flew out of their saddles with such force that there could be no doubt the men's armor had been penetrated. Dozens of horses dropped to the ground and did not move, dead at first impact. Hsuang could see why his subordinate had wanted to wait. At close range, the rockets'

impact would have been devastating.

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 ba.s.s snaps of ten-thousand bows vibrated up the hill. A flock of shafts sailed over the brook and struck the wall of hors.e.m.e.n.

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 b.a.l.l.s resting in their engines' spoons.

The engine commanders released their windla.s.s 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 downon the entire line of artillerymen.

Fortunately, that was the only misfire. Most of the bombs. .h.i.t 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.ble 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 n.o.bles 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 n.o.bles 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 n.o.bles 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-b.u.t.tons 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 coa.r.s.e, 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.

The two women were in Wu's sleeping hall. The samfu Wu had not been able to fasten was her black one, the one she had been wearing when she had surprised Batu and knocked him unconscious.

Qwo reached into the sleeve pockets of her cheo-sam, an embroidered robe with huge sleeves and a high collar, and removed Wu's black scarf.

"What's the use?" the old woman asked. "You are the mistress. You will do as you please, no matter what I say."

Her tone was more that of a mother than of a servant. In a certain sense, that was appropriate. Born into the Hsuang household only a few years after Wu's father himself, Qwo had spent her entire life serving the family. When Wu's mother had died, it had only been natural for Qwo to a.s.sume a maternal role as well as that of nursemaid.

As Qwo unfolded the black scarf, Wu said, "I have no choice-"

"Phaw!" the old woman objected. "Sneaking about in the night, looking for spies. This is man's business!"

"It is my business tonight," Wu replied, taking the scarf and wrapping it around her face.

With no moon out and a low-hanging cloud cover, tonight was truly black.

Wu had been waiting for such a night for five weeks, ever since the emperor had confined her to the house. The n.o.bleman's daughter intended to enter the home of Ting Mei Wan, who she believed had betrayed Shou Lung.

Unfortunately, the emperor would never condemn Ting on the basis that had convinced Wu the mandarin was a spy. The only real proof the n.o.bleman's daughter possessed was that Ting perfumed herself with jasmine blossoms, and that the spy in the Virtuous Consort's garden had smelted of the same flower. However, the scent of jasmine was hardly rare inside the summer palace. Ting could easily, and rightfully, claim that hundreds of women scented their bodies with Jasmine.

None of those other women had expressed so much interest in Batu's plan, however. After the audience with the emperor, the Minister of State Security had personally accompanied Wu home. Ting had been very friendly and curious about the whereabouts of the provincial armies. When Wu's answers were evasive, the minister had turned the conversation to other things. During the next four weeks, the lady mandarin had visited almost daily under the pretext of bringing gifts for the children. Each time, the minister had gentlyprobed after Batu's whereabouts. Of course, Wu had refused to answer, and the minister had deftly changed the subject.

Wu had not been anxious to believe that Ting was a spy, for the minister treated her and her family with such kindness that the children had begun to refer to the mandarin as their aunt. When Ji had let slip that Ting had asked him if he knew where his father was, however, Wu had finally been forced to accept that her seeming ally was a traitor.

Though Wu had been careful to hide her suspicions, Ting had not visited in the last five days. Wu feared that the mandarin had learned what she wanted to know from some other source. If so, Wu was determined to stop the minister before she could pa.s.s the information to the enemy. Being completely convinced that Ting was a spy, Wu felt sure that the female mandarin would take advantage of tonight's unusual darkness to meet a Tuigan messenger. Wu intended to be at that meeting, both to safeguard the secrecy of Batu's plan and to gather the evidence she needed to prove her suspicions.

Qwo shuffled around behind Wu to tie the scarf. "You're disobeying the emperor," she said reproachfully.

"I know," Wu responded. The admission sent cold shivers down her spine.

"And of course you don't care," Qwo said, pulling the scarf uncomfortably tight. "You've always been a disobedient child."

"I haven't been a child for twenty years," Wu said, reaching behind her head to loosen Qwo's knot.

"Well, you've been disobedient much more recently," the servant said, slapping her hands against her thighs. "Why can't you just send a message to the emperor about this spy?"

"Who would the Divine One believe," Wu asked, looking herself over to see if she had forgotten anything, "the daughter of a country n.o.ble or a mandarin?"

"You," Qwo said simply, giving Wu a hard look. "Even if he didn't, you would have done your duty."

Wu frowned, though she knew Qwo would not see the expression behind the black scarf. "This is not about duty to the empire," she said. "It's about my father and my husband. If the enemy discovers their plans-"