“Find my carriage.”
Xu An blinked.
“Young Master?”
“We’re going east.”
General Duan looked at me.
Then at the road.
Then back at me.
“Not by carriage.”
I stared at him.
We had just spent an entire day proving how useful carts were.
This felt ungrateful.
“Why?”
“The eastern road is covered in broken wagons, abandoned baggage, wounded men and retreating soldiers.”
“That sounds like a road problem.”
“It is.”
“Then clear it.”
“That takes time.”
I looked east.
“How much?”
“For a carriage?”
Too much was already written on his face.
Duan Wei continued.
“The first force can move immediately if we use cavalry and light troops.”
Cavalry.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
Xu An looked at me.
Nobody said anything.
I hated all of them.
“How much faster?”
“Much.”
That was not a number.
Normally I would have demanded one.
Instead I looked toward the nearest horse.
The horse looked back.
We had disagreed philosophically for most of my life here.
Today, unfortunately, circumstances favored the horse.
“Bring one.”
Xu An's eyebrows rose.
Duan Wei actually paused.
“What?”
Neither answered.
I looked between them.
“Why is everyone behaving strangely?”
Xu An said carefully:
“Young Master asked for a horse.”
“I was present.”
“Yes.”
“Bring one.”
He bowed.
Immediately.
No argument.
That was almost worse.
Duan Wei could not move ten thousand men in an hour.
I disliked this fact.
His army had fought all day.
Units were mixed.
Men needed water.
Arrows needed replacing.
Wounded needed sorting.
Horses needed changing.
Prisoners needed guarding.
Xin’an itself still needed enough men to remain a military position rather than an abandoned wall.
“How many can leave now?” I asked.
“About eighteen hundred mounted and light troops.”
“Only?”
His expression hardened.
“Only?”
Right.
Eighteen hundred men was apparently a large number when each one had legs and needed food.
“And the rest?”
“Another three thousand can follow within a few hours.”
“And the others?”
“Some remain here. The rest move when the road and units are reorganized.”
I looked east.
Eighteen hundred.
Then three thousand.
Not ten.
But faster.
“What gets me there first?”
“The first group.”
“Then I’m going with them.”
One of the captains looked at me.
Duan Wei did not.
He was already issuing orders.
“Fresh horses for the Young Master and his attendants.”
Fresh horses.
Plural.
I disliked where this was going.
“How many horses am I expected to use?”
Duan Wei looked at me.
“One at a time.”
Reasonable.
Still unpleasant.
The soldiers had noticed.
Of course they had.
Yesterday I had been the useless son who arrived in a carriage.
Today I walked toward a horse willingly.
The animal was dark brown and far too tall.
A groom held the reins.
I stopped beside it.
The horse breathed.
I disliked the confidence with which it did this.
Xu An stood nearby.
“Young Master?”
“I know.”
“You have not mounted.”
“I am establishing dominance.”
The horse moved one ear.
It was not working.
I took the reins.
Placed one foot.
Pulled myself up.
My body remembered enough.
That was unfortunate because it meant nobody could save me by declaring this impossible.
I settled into the saddle.
The horse shifted beneath me.
I gripped with both legs.
Duan Wei rode over.
His eyes moved from me to the horse.
“Comfortable?”
“No.”
“Good enough.”
Cruel man.
The gate opened.
Eighteen hundred men moved east.
I went with them.
The road looked different after a battle.
On a map, the enemy had been little wooden markers.
Thirty thousand.
Eleven thousand here.
Seven thousand there.
Five thousand in front.
Numbers.
The road had no numbers.
It had bodies.
Broken spears.
Helmets.
A shield with blood dried across half of it.
Two dead horses beside an overturned wagon.
A man sitting against a ditch holding his arm while one of our soldiers wrapped it.
Coalition prisoners gathered under guard.
Others had simply thrown away their weapons and disappeared.
I looked ahead.
There were far more bodies than thirty wooden markers had suggested.
Nobody celebrated.
That surprised me.
Yesterday the soldiers had laughed.
Talked.
Complained.
Today they rode past the dead without looking for long.
Perhaps they had seen this before.
I had not.
One man lying beside the road looked younger than me.
I looked away.
I did not regret the battle.
That was the strange part.
If we had done nothing, the road would still be closed.
Qiao’er would still be beyond them.
Duan Wei’s soldiers would still be trapped at Xin’an.
The enemy had chosen to be there.
All of that remained true.
The bodies remained true too.
Both facts apparently fit inside the same day.
I preferred grain.
Grain had rarely forced me to consider morality.
After an hour, my legs hurt.
After two, everything hurt.
I had discovered several new regions of the human body whose purpose seemed to be suffering on horseback.
My palms had begun burning from the reins.
The horse, meanwhile, appeared completely fine.
I hated unequal partnerships.
Duan Wei rode beside me for part of the journey.
He had said little since leaving Xin’an.
Eventually:
“Young Master.”
“What?”
“Where did you learn that?”
I looked at him.
“Learn what?”
“Today.”
“That is not specific.”
“The enemy.”
I waited.
“The false withdrawal. Breaking the road. Their supplies.”
Ah.
I looked ahead.
“I counted carts.”
Duan Wei said nothing.
I glanced at him.
His expression had become difficult.
“What?”
“You counted carts.”
“Yes.”
“That is your answer.”
“It is the answer.”
He stared ahead again.
I decided to help.
“Also grain.”
That did not improve matters.
“General, thirty thousand men cannot use one road at once.”
“I know.”
“Yesterday I learned thirty-two wagons can barely use ours.”
He looked at me.
“So I counted carts.”
He remained silent.
Apparently military explanations required more drama.
I had none.
After several moments he said:
“You did not know how many men could form on the eastern approach.”
“No.”
“You did not know where to position cavalry.”
“No.”
“You asked whether three wagons could fit through the road.”
“Yes.”
He looked genuinely disturbed now.
“Is there a problem?”
“No.”
He rode ahead.
I watched him go.
Military men were strange.
We changed horses before dusk.
I considered refusing.
Then a scout arrived.
Everything else disappeared.
“General.”
Duan Wei dismounted.
I stayed on mine because getting down meant eventually getting back up.
The scout bowed.
“Reports from farther east.”
My hands tightened.
Duan Wei noticed.
“What?”
“Scattered coalition groups moving toward Luoyang and Yanshi.”
“How many?”
“Unknown. Hundreds in some groups. Smaller bands elsewhere.”
“And Yanshi?”
The scout hesitated.
I spoke before Duan Wei could.
“Qiao’er.”
He looked at me.
“The Dong household party?”
“Yes.”
“They left the residence.”
Air entered my lungs again.
Alive.
They had left.
Good.
“When?”
“Earlier today, according to villagers.”
“Where did they go?”
“A local walled compound southwest of the residence. Several families have gathered there.”
Good.
Walls.
People.
Guards.
For half a heartbeat, something inside me loosened.
Then the scout continued.
“There are armed groups moving through the same area.”
I looked at him.
“How many?”
“We cannot know.”
Duan Wei asked:
“Under whose command?”
The scout shook his head.
“No clear banners. Some still carry coalition markings. Others have thrown them away.”
No command.
That answer was worse.
The thirty thousand were gone.
We had succeeded.
They were no longer an army.
Now they were thousands of armed men moving through the countryside without an army controlling them.
I remembered Duan Wei’s words.
Units separate.
Men pursue.
Some search houses.
Some loot.
Officers restore order when they can.
I looked east.
“How far?”
“The compound?”
“Yes.”
“Several hours if we maintain pace.”
Duan Wei looked toward our horses.
“Not at this speed.”
“Then change them.”
“Young Master.”
“What?”
“The men have been riding since Xin’an.”
“So have I.”
His eyes dropped briefly to my hands.
I followed them.
The skin beneath two fingers had split.
Blood marked the reins.
I had not noticed.
Xu An rode closer.
“Young Master, your hand.”
“Later.”
He looked at me.
I looked back.
Apparently he had expected something else.
“Fresh horses,” I said.
Duan Wei’s jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
“Fresh horses.”
The next village had shut its gates.
Nobody opened them when our vanguard approached.
Understandable.
Eighteen hundred armed men had become less comforting since this morning.
Duan Wei sent only a handful forward.
Eventually someone spoke from behind the wall.
Coalition troops had passed an hour earlier.
Maybe two hundred.
Maybe four.
Nobody agreed.
They had taken food.
One house had been broken into.
A woman had been struck.
Nobody knew where the men had gone.
I stopped listening after that.
“How many roads lead toward the compound?” I asked.
The local man pointed.
“Two main ones. A smaller farm path.”
“Which would fleeing soldiers use?”
“The main road.”
Duan Wei looked toward one of his captains.
“Send two hundred ahead on the southern route.”
The captain nodded.
“Do not engage large groups. Find the household compound and report.”
He turned his horse.
I spoke.
“Find Qiao’er.”
The captain looked at me.
Then bowed.
“Yes, Young Master.”
He left.
Night began falling before the next report.
We were still moving.
Slower now.
Darkness made roads worse.
Coalition stragglers appeared occasionally.
Most ran when they saw us.
Some surrendered.
A group of perhaps fifty tried to form across the road.
Duan Wei sent cavalry forward.
The fight lasted less time than I expected.
I did not watch closely.
I was beginning to understand something.
Thirty thousand had been easier.
Thirty thousand stood beneath banners.
Thirty thousand had roads.
Camps.
Orders.
A general could point at them.
These groups were everywhere.
A hundred here.
Three hundred somewhere else.
Twenty armed men entering a village.
Nobody knew who commanded whom.
No map could keep up.
I had destroyed the thing blocking the road.
In doing so, we had scattered pieces of it across every road beyond.
Wonderful.
Another consequence.
I was collecting them.
Duan Wei eventually ordered part of the vanguard to slow.
I objected.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“The horses are tiring.”
“Change them.”
“We cannot create horses.”
I almost mentioned registered and actual horses.
This did not seem like the moment.
“How many continue?”
“Eight hundred.”
“Why eight?”
“Because those mounts can still move hard.”
“And the rest?”
“Follow.”
I hated dividing forces.
I had spent yesterday learning why dividing forces was dangerous.
Duan Wei apparently read my face.
“We are not attacking an army.”
“Good.”
“We are looking for a household compound.”
“Better.”
“And if we find several hundred scattered soldiers, eight hundred trained cavalry is enough.”
“Excellent.”
He studied me.
“You agree?”
“I am capable of learning.”
That seemed to surprise him more than the battle had.
We continued.
The scout found us after dark.
His horse was wet with sweat.
He rode directly to Duan Wei.
I moved closer before anyone invited me.
“Report.”
“We found the household guards.”
My heart stopped.
I said:
“Qiao’er?”
The scout looked at me.
“Alive.”
Everything loosened.
My shoulders.
My hands.
Something behind my ribs.
Alive.
Good.
Alive.
I closed my eyes for one breath.
Then opened them.
“Where?”
“At the compound.”
“How many guards remain?”
“Five from the household. Several local men.”
Five.
We had started with eight.
One had reached us.
Two others were gone.
I did not ask yet.
“How far?”
“Less than an hour.”
I turned my horse immediately.
The scout did not move.
Duan Wei noticed.
“What else?”
There it was.
The scout looked east.
“Armed men are moving toward the compound.”
My stomach hardened again.
“How many?”
“We counted more than three hundred before dark.”
Three hundred.
Duan Wei asked:
“Organized?”
“Barely. Different groups. Some on foot. Some mounted.”
“Do they know the compound is occupied?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Smoke. Refugees. Probably food.”
Food.
Of course.
Hungry armed men saw walls and civilians and assumed there was something inside worth taking.
“How long?” I asked.
The scout hesitated.
“Young Master—”
“How long?”
“If they keep moving?”
He looked toward the darkness.
“They may already be there.”
No.
Duan Wei immediately began giving orders.
Two hundred cavalry forward.
Another two hundred split south.
Nobody enters the compound area alone.
Identify civilians before attacking.
Do not pursue beyond the outer roads until ordered.
I listened.
For once, the military language did not feel distant.
It was all too slow.
“General.”
He looked at me.
“I’m going with the first group.”
“No.”
I stared.
“No?”
“You do not know the ground.”
“I know where I’m going.”
“You know the name of a compound.”
“That is enough.”
“It is not.”
His voice remained calm.
Infuriatingly calm.
“If armed men are already among the houses, cavalry cannot simply charge through.”
“Then what?”
“We approach. We identify where they are. We separate them from civilians.”
Every word was correct.
Every word cost time.
My horse shifted beneath me.
I looked toward the black road ahead.
“Fine.”
Duan Wei watched me.
“But I go.”
A pause.
Then:
“Stay behind the first line.”
“Fine.”
I had no intention of debating distance.
We moved.
Smoke appeared before the compound.
A dark column against a darker sky.
Then orange light.
A building.
Not the compound itself.
Something outside it.
Burning.
We heard shouting before we saw walls.
Men.
Horses.
Someone screaming.
The road narrowed between two fields.
Duan Wei raised his hand.
The column slowed.
My entire body screamed when the horse changed pace.
I ignored it.
A figure emerged from the darkness ahead.
Running.
One of our scouts.
Behind him, another man.
Blood covered half his robe.
Household colors.
I recognized him.
One of Qiao’er’s guards.
He nearly fell when he reached us.
I was off the horse before I remembered how much that hurt.
My knees almost failed.
I caught the saddle.
Then walked toward him.
“Young Master.”
“Where is she?”
His breathing broke.
I stepped closer.
“Where is Qiao’er?”
He pointed past the burning buildings.
Toward the walled compound.
“Inside.”
Behind him, something struck wood.
Men shouted.
Another impact.
Then another.
The guard swallowed.
“They’re trying to get through the gate.”