Dragonwall

'Yes, Pe,' Batu replied. 'It is the most magnificent army Shou Lung has ever seen.'

Batu was glad to have his adjutant back, even if the boy's sword arm was all but useless. The day after his promotion to commander of the Northern Marches, the general had sent a chariot officer north to retrieve his wounded aide. Under the care of the emperor's healers, the young adjutant had accomplished a remarkable recovery. Though the general knew Pe was far from fully recovered, the boy did not need to be asked twice to return to battle. There would be little time to train a new adjutant, and the general knew it.

'Perhaps we have a name for your troops now,' Pe said. 'The Most Magnificent Army.'

Batu grinned at the boy's enthusiasm, then cast an eye toward the heavens. The sky was vivid blue and the morning sun brilliant white.

'Don't you think Huan-Ti would take offense at our presumption?' Batu asked, referring to the Shou god of war.

Pe's face grew concerned. The youthful adjutant was an ardent worshiper of all the gods, especially the Divine General. The thought of angering a deity as important as Huan-Ti was enough to make Pe pause. 'Of course,' he said, casting an apologetic eye skyward, 'I meant to say the Most Magnificent Army of Shou Lung.'

Batu chuckled at the tactful clarification, but did not take his eyes off the clear sky. Like any good commander, he was always concerned with the welfare of those serving him. It had occurred to him earlier that the simple act of standing hour after hour might exhaust such a vast army. He had not yet begun briefing his subordinate commanders, and the emperor had not even arrived from the summer palace. It could easily be six hours before the armies were dismissed.

Using his loudest voice, Batu addressed the thirty armies surrounding the meadow. 'Relax. Be seated!' he called. Though he knew his voice would not carry to the edges of the camp, he expected his order to be relayed by the officers.

Tens of thousands of pengs began to shift their weight, but a murmur ran round the valley as their superiors quickly recalled them to attention. Even after Batu had issued the command a second time, the entire force remained at attention.

His brow raised in disbelief and shock, Pe suggested, 'Perhaps they didn't hear the order clearly.'

Batu shook his head. 'The wind's not that loud. They heard it,' he said. 'The order didn't come from their commanders.'

'You're the general of the Northern Marches,' Pe said scornfully. 'You command these armies now.'

'Yes, I do,' Batu replied, studying the assemblage. 'Unfortunately, it appears you and I are the only ones who know that.'

'Shall I have their generals send word to be seated?' Pe asked.

After running his hard eyes over the hills for several moments, Batu said, 'No. Let them stand.' He turned and entered his campaign tent, where the lord or commanding officer of each of the thirty armies awaited him.

The smell of eel's oil, used to protect metal armor and weapons from rust, permeated the pavilion. Batu's skin prickled with a palpable sense of eagerness, and the room buzzed with conversations conducted in pretentious, subdued tones.

The nobles stood in scattered circles of four or five, grouped according to their shifting alliances. Ranging in age from less than thirty to over sixty, they all wore opulent suits of armor. Each lord was accompanied by an aide whose only function appeared to be holding his master's plumed helmet.

The five generals commanding the provincial armies had gathered in one corner. Uniformly near the age of sixty, the commanders were withdrawn and obviously annoyed by the ostentation and excitement of the nobles. The five men wore the traditional uniforms of first-degree generals: vermilion corselets of k'ai, with gilded girdles. Unlike the nobles, they were not accompanied by aides. Beneath their arms, they held their own helmets, simple conical affairs topped by vermilion plumes. Batu recognized only one of the provincial generals, a stocky man named Kei Bot Li. He remembered Kei Bot as an overly ambitious but competent officer.

The scabbards of both generals and nobles were empty. Without exception, the men in the tent were hoping for a few words with the emperor after he blessed the army. Anyone carrying a weapon would not be allowed within a hundred feet of the Divine One, and they all knew it.

In the corner opposite the provincial generals stood Tzu Hsuang and a handful of lesser nobles with whom he had strong political alliances. Hsuang's elaborate plate armor encased his body like an oversized, enamelled tortoise shell.

Aside from Tzu Hsuang and Kei Bot Li, the only other person Batu recognized was Minister Kwan. The minister sat behind the table at the head of the tent, openly asserting his position as commander of all Shou Lung's armies. A dozen frowning nobles surrounded the ancient mandarin, intently listening to the old man pontificate. Kwan wore a suit of battle armor that would have weighed heavily on the brittle bones of any other old man. The suit was similar to that worn by the provincial generals, save that Kwan's corselet and helmet plume were blue, reflecting his exalted rank.

In contrast to the pretentious displays of the other commanders, Batu wore only his new chia. His one concession to ostentation was that it was trimmed in purple, the color of a second-degree general. Because of his simple dress, perhaps, Batu's entrance remained largely unacknowledged-save by his father-in-law.

Tzu Hsuang ended his conversation and bowed, and the nobles with whom he had been speaking did likewise. The other lords simply glanced at Batu, then returned to their conversations. The provincial generals regarded him with expressions ranging from open contempt to suspicious scrutiny.

'This is disrespectful!' Pe said, stepping forward and speaking loud enough to be overheard.

'Yes, it is,' Batu observed evenly. He was more intrigued by the slights than angered by them. The general from Chukei had not expected his subcommanders to accept his authority with eagerness, but neither had he expected them to treat him with open contempt. Batu suspected that Kwan's presence accounted for their insolence. By attending the war council, the minister was making it clear that he had no confidence in his subordinate.

Batu did not care what Kwan thought of him, but he knew that the rivalry between him and the minister would continue to undermine his authority. It was a problem he would have to address before he could command with full effectiveness. Unfortunately, now was not the time or place. At least in name, Kwan was still his superior. If Batu expected his officers to treat him with respect, he would have to do the same for the Minister of War.

After instructing Pe to stay at the entrance, Batu strode purposefully to the front of the tent. There, he bowed to Kwan and said, 'I did not expect to see you here, Minister.'

Kwan's shriveled mouth contorted into a malevolent sneer. 'Is a third-degree general no longer welcome at his subordinate's war council?'

Behind Batu, a chorus of whispers rustled through the tent. The general wanted to ask if ruining him was worth seeing Shou Lung overrun by barbarians, but he knew the question would accomplish nothing. Instead, after a lengthy pause, he said, 'My commander is always welcome in my tent, Minister.'

A contrived smile slowly creased Kwan's sagging lips. 'I'm glad we agree on that much.'

Batu shifted his gaze to the nobles gathered around the old man. 'If you will return to your seats, we will begin this meeting.'

The nobles glanced at the minister for permission.

'Now!' Batu snapped, exerting his authority over the lords. If he had to honor Kwan's authority, it was equally true that his subordinates had to honor his. The sooner he made that fact clear, the better.

Kwan nodded to the nobles, and they walked around the table. As the general waited for them to take their positions with the other lords, a muffled rattle sounded from the surrounding hills. The lords murmured in concerned tones and looked toward the exit.

Batu nodded at Pe, and the young officer stepped outside. An instant later, he returned and bowed very low. 'My lords and generals, the emperor approaches.'

Pe quickly retreated out of the doorway as the lords filed toward the exit. Only the five provincial generals waited for the proper dismissal, and then left only after receiving permission from both the general and the minister.

Moments later, Batu found himself alone with Kwan. After staring at the old man for a long moment, the general said, 'Isn't defeating the barbarians more important than our political disputes? How far do you intend to carry this?'