The man’s tone was sour and Xuan felt an old anger stir in him, one he had not allowed himself to feel in years. A man in his position could have no honour, could allow himself no pride. Yet he stepped closer to the soldier and leaned in, his eyes bright with rage.
‘Who are you to speak to me in such a way? You, a dog-meat soldier of no family? What I choose to do is no concern of yours. Tell one of your men to dismount and walk back, or give up your own mount.’
Hong Tsaio-Wen had lived his life in a rigid hierarchy. He responded to Xuan’s certainty as he would have to any other senior officer. His head dipped and his eyes no longer challenged. Xuan was certain then that this was no execution detail. His thoughts whirled as Tsaio-Wen snapped orders to his men and one of them dismounted.
‘Tell your brother to take your sisters home,’ Xuan said loudly to Liao-Jin. ‘You will accompany me to the barracks. We will see then what is so important that I must be disturbed.’
Liao-Jin could hardly hide his mingled delight and panic as he passed on the word to his siblings. He had ridden a few times in his life, but never a trained warhorse. He dreaded embarrassing his father as he ran to the mount and leapt up into the saddle. The animal snorted at the unfamiliar rider and Xuan’s head snapped round, suddenly thoughtful.
‘Wait,’ he said. He passed his eyes over the other horses and found one that stood placidly, without any of the bunched tension of the first mount. Xuan looked across at Tsaio-Wen and saw the man’s hidden anger. Perhaps the officer had not deliberately chosen the most unruly mount in his troop, but he doubted it. It had been many years since Xuan had managed soldiers, but the old habits came back to him. He strode across to another rider and looked up at him with complete certainty that he would be obeyed.
‘Get down,’ he said.
The soldier barely looked at Tsaio-Wen before he swung his leg over and jumped to the shingle.
‘This one,’ Xuan called to his son.
Liao-Jin had not understood what his father was doing, but he too dismounted and came over, taking the reins.
Xuan nodded to him without explanation, then raised his hand briefly to the rest of his family. They stood forlorn, watching as their father and brother mounted up and rode away along the shore of the lake, heading back into the city of Hangzhou.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Hangzhou had many barracks for the emperor’s armies. The best of them enclosed training grounds and even baths, where the soldiers could learn their trade, strengthen their bodies and then sleep and eat in huge dormitories.
The Leopard barracks showed signs of having been abandoned for many years. The roofs sagged and the training ground was overgrown with weeds poking through the sand and stones. Xuan rode under an archway covered in lichen and drew to a halt with Tsaio-Wen’s men in an open courtyard. He was flushed from the ride, long-unused muscles complaining in his legs and back. Yet he felt better than he had in years at just that taste of freedom and command.
Tsaio-Wen dismounted without a word or a glance at the two men he had brought with him. Xuan could see the traces of anger in the man’s walk as he strode into the first building. Xuan looked over to his son and jerked his head for him to get down from his borrowed horse. He did not know what to expect, but there had been so little novelty in recent years that almost anything would be welcome.
The troop of riders stood in silence and waited. After a time, Tsaio-Wen came out and took his reins. To Xuan’s surprise, he mounted, turning his horse back to the gate. Two of his men gathered the reins of the horses Xuan and his son had ridden and began to lead them away.
‘What is this?’ Xuan said. He knew Tsaio-Wen had heard him from the way the man stiffened. The officer chose to have his revenge in impoliteness and there was no reply.
A loud cry sounded from close by and Xuan spun round. Running towards him, he saw faces he knew, memories of a different life. Liao-Jin tensed as if they were about to be attacked, but his father laid a hand on his arm. When he spoke, his eyes were bright with tears.
‘I know these men, Liao-Jin. They are my people.’ He smiled, realising that his son would not recognise any of the men coming out and crowding around them. ‘They are
Xuan had to work hard to keep the smile on his face as he began to recognise men he had not seen for sixteen years. Time was never kind. Age had never made a man stronger, or faster, or more vital. He felt wrenched within, shocked over and over. He kept seeing faces he remembered as young, unlined, and somehow they were still there, but become wrinkled and weary. Perhaps at home they would have been less marked by the years. He doubted they had ever been well fed or allowed to stay fit.
They pressed in close and some of them even reached out to touch his clothes, almost to reassure themselves he was real. Then voices he had not heard for too long shouted orders and they fell back. The courtyard continued to fill as more and more came out from the dormitories, but those who had been officers were snapping orders at them to form ranks for an inspection. They smiled as they did so and there were many questions called from their number. Xuan could not answer them. He could hardly speak for the swelling emotions that filled him. He stood straight, his eyes shining as they made ragged groups of a hundred and marched out to take position on the weed-strewn parade ground.
It was not long before he realised the numbers coming out were thinning. Xuan’s heart sank. He had brought some forty thousand men into Sung lands. Some would always have died - the oldest among them would have been close to seventy by then. Natural causes would have taken a toll, but when he counted the silent squares, the total was only eight thousand men.
‘Where did you all go?’ he murmured to himself.
One man who had been shouting orders was dressed in little more than filthy rags. He was emaciated and where his skin showed it was marked in dirt that had almost been tattooed into him. It was pitiful to see such a figure trying to stand tall. Xuan did not recognise him, but he walked over and met the man’s eyes. They searched his, glimmering with hope where there should have been none.
‘It has been a long time,’ Xuan said. He was about to ask the man’s name when it came to him, with the rank first, flashing into his head from over the years. ‘Shao Xiao Bohai.’
Xuan blinked back pain as Bohai smiled to reveal just a couple of long yellow teeth in an empty jaw. The man had once commanded thousands, one of his experienced sword officers, but it was almost impossible to reconcile the memories with the skeletal figure who stood before him.
‘Is this
Bohai dipped his head, then dropped prostrate on the ground. The rest of them followed on the instant, so that only Xuan and his son remained standing.
‘Up, all of you,’ Xuan ordered. His eyes had dried and he knew he could show no more emotion to these men. They needed more than that from him.
‘Well, Shao Xiao Bohai? You have not answered my question. You may speak freely to me.’
The man’s voice only creaked at first. He wet his lips and gums with his tongue until he could shape words.
‘Some of us ran. Most were brought back and killed in front of us. Others never returned.’
‘But so many?’ Xuan said, shaking his head.
‘His majesty will not want to hear the complaints of soldiers,’ Bohai said, staring off into the middle distance.
‘I order you to tell me,’ Xuan replied softly. He waited while the man wet his lips once more.
‘There were fevers each summer and some died from bad food. One year, some six thousand of us were taken away to work in a coal mine. They did not return. Each month, we lose a few to the guards they set, or Sung nobles looking for entertainment. We do not always know the fates of those who are taken away. They don’t come back. Your majesty, I have not seen the whole group together for sixteen years. I did not know until three days ago that we had lost so many.’ A spark appeared in the man’s dull eyes. ‘We endured in the hope of seeing his majesty one last time before death. That has been granted. If there is to be no rescue, no release, it will be enough.’
Xuan turned and saw his son standing with an expression of horror on his face.
