TUN-HUANG (7 page)

Hsi-hsia was determined to launch a full-scale invasion of Liang-chou, even at the risk of war with Sung China, and had succeeded in conquering Liang-chou in only three days.

Hsing-te passed the months from early 1027 to the spring of the following year as a common soldier in the Chinese unit of the Hsi-hsia army.

Since entering Liang-chou, Hsing-te had only seen soldiers in the garrison. Of the natives who had lived here before Liang-chou fell into Hsi-hsia hands, those who could fight had all been drafted into the Hsi-hsia army, while useless elders, women, and children were transferred outside the town to work on farms or to herd cattle in the rich pastures.

The soil in Liang-chou was very fertile. From just outside the city walls, the well-cultivated land stretched for miles. Thus Hsi-hsia possessed the richest agricultural lands west of the Yellow River. The horses raised in this area, too, were considered the best in the world. The second-best came from Kan-ching in China. The horses of the Chin and Wei areas were large-boned, but they lacked speed and could not be used as military mounts. North of the walled city, grazing pastureland extended toward the horizon. From atop the city wall, one could see innumerable groups of horses in the distance. A great number of people were required to look after the horses. In occupying Liang-chou, the Hsi-hsia had not harmed a single native. Instead, they had conscripted the able-bodied and sent the rest outside to work in the farms or with cattle.

This was not the fate of the Liang-chou natives alone. The Hsi-hsia also lived under this code. When Hsi-hsia youths reached the age of fifteen, they were drafted, and then either taken into regular service or given unskilled, menial jobs within the army. All Hsi-hsia soldiers in the regular army were given military mounts and arms and were completely equipped. Those rejected by the army were sent to till the fields around Liang-chou or Kan-ching.

It was estimated that 500,000 troops from the Hsi-hsia regular army had invaded Liang-chou. Besides these men, there were other armies composed of prisoners of war from various subject tribes. Some 100,000 were stationed in Liang-chou and 250,000 in Hsing-ch’ing. Another 70,000 men patrolled the border regions.

The Chinese battalion to which Hsing-te belonged was the vanguard of the regular army, made up of hand-picked heroes from the Chinese. In times of battle, this Chinese force always went to the foremost front lines. Only brave and experienced young men were selected for this unit from former prisoners of war and long-time residents of the area, without regard to their birthplace or circumstance. It was by sheer accident that Hsing-te had stumbled into Liang-chou the day after the battle, and that he was assigned to this force.

Almost daily, Hsing-te received military training outside the walled city. He was slightly built and delicate in constitution, but he took his training seriously. If his superiors decided that he was useless as a soldier, he would be sent to the other side of the Yellow River to clear the wastelands. He preferred to remain in Liang-chou as a common soldier, as trying as this life was, rather than be shipped off there.

During that year Hsing-te took part in three battles against the Uighurs of Kan-chou. Each time he had fainted; the first two times he had been badly wounded but somehow managed to return to his unit with his horse. All Hsi-hsia soldiers secured themselves to their mounts with hooked metal bands so that if they died in the saddle they would not fall off. Thus the horses always returned home after battle carrying the dead and wounded tied onto their backs.

Hsing-te’s assignment had been to hook a whirlwind cannon onto the saddle and dash through the enemy lines scattering a shower of stones. He was not strong enough to maneuver heavy weapons while riding, but no strength was necessary to manipulate a whirlwind cannon. In fact, his slight build and light frame made him very suitable as a cannon operator.

In all three battles, Hsing-te had leaned forward in his saddle, looked at nothing, and concentrated solely on shooting the stones. It took courage for even a very reckless soul to run through the middle of the enemy lines, but Hsing-te’s horse carried his master straight through without prompting. Each time Hsing-te had fainted, coming to only after he was back at base and was taken off his horse. Hsing-te had no idea how he had crossed the enemy lines or how he had returned.

During the third battle, Hsing-te was wounded and regained consciousness only as the wounds were being dressed by a comrade. He had no recollection of being struck. Probably it had happened after he had fainted. From these experiences, he came to the conclusion that going to battle was not so hard after all. After shooting his stones, he was free to faint or do anything else, leaving the rest to fate. His horse took care of everything and brought him home.

In his free time between battles, Hsing-te roamed around looking for someone who knew the Hsi-hsia writing system. But not a single person in his unit had this knowledge. In fact, no one even knew whether Hsi-hsia writing existed or not. Someone among the officers might possibly know, but as a common soldier, Hsing-te could not hope for the opportunity to speak to them. Any superiors whom he could casually approach could not even read Chinese, much less Hsi-hsia.

Hsing-te had thought that writing would be used in Liang-chou and Hsing-ch’ing, where there were many government organizations as well as numerous businesses conducted by inhabitants. But in a frontier garrison such as Liang-chou, writing was far removed from daily life.

Hsing-te had spent an unexpected year in Liang-chou. In the spring of 1028, rumors were rampant throughout the unit that an all-out invasion of Kan-chou was imminent. Anyone could see that this was inevitable. For the Hsi-hsia, who had already occupied the area around Hsing-ch’ing and Liang-chou and who had crossed Chinese territory to capture Ling-chou, it was natural that the next target would be Kan-chou, capital of the small Uighur kingdom, which fought against Hsi-hsia at the least provocation. Hsing-te also anticipated that the invasion of Kan-chou would take place soon.

Toward the end of March there was a sudden bustle of activity outside the city. New troops began to arrive daily from many parts. At night, from the top of the wall, one could see the campfires of these forces stretching out interminably toward the southeast. The units stationed within the wall were busy preparing their weapons. One day in early April, all the troops were gathered together in the clearing outside the city. Li Yüan-hao, commander in chief of the army and eldest son of the Hsi-hsia emperor, Li Teming, had come to inspect his armies. He spent quite some time reviewing each army.

Hsing-te’s unit of Chinese troops had its turn toward the end, so he and his fellow soldiers were kept standing from early morning until dusk.

At twilight Hsing-te’s group was inspected. The yellow sun was setting in the west, and everything—the clearing where Hsing-te’s force stood, the city wall, the oasis stretching out east, and the plains in the west—was suffused by the crimson afterglow. To Hsing-te, who had only heard of Li Yüan-hao and now saw him for the first time, the youthful commander seemed magnificent. He appeared to be twenty-four or twenty-five. He was just a shade over five feet tall and slight in build, but he had a stately, imposing bearing. At the same time, bathed by the rays of the setting sun, he appeared to be crimson-colored.

As he walked slowly before Hsing-te’s unit, he seemed to be inspecting each individual from head to toe. After looking over each man, he gave him a little smile before passing on to the next. That gentle smile touched the hearts of the soldiers. His glances also mysteriously stirred the recipient, so that each man felt inspired to lay down his life gladly for this leader.

At that moment it occurred to Hsing-te how incongruous it was to find himself a follower of Li Yüan-hao. It also seemed strange to Hsing-te that he would willingly die in battle for this prince, and that he was about to set out for battle. And he could not understand why he was not particularly disturbed by the prospect.

After the inspection had ended and the men had returned to the city, Hsing-te was called in by Chu Wang-li, commander of three hundred men. This leader, a man past forty, had performed numerous acts of heroism, and his valor was unmatched, even among the dauntless vanguard youths.

“I hear that your name is written on your uniform.” Chu Wang-li looked critically at Hsing-te’s clothes. Then staring at a spot, he asked, “Is this your name?” He pointed to the letters: Chao Hsing-te.

“That’s right,” Hsing-te answered.

“If I could read and write, I would be more of a success. No matter how much of a hero I may be, my lack of education holds me back. From now on I’ll take special care of you, so you can come and read the orders from headquarters whenever I need you,” he said.

“If it’s just orders, I’ll be glad to read them for you any time.” As he replied Hsing-te calculated that it wouldn’t be a disadvantage to know this superior.

“Well, then, I have to read one now.” Wang-li pointed to a piece of cloth he held in his hand.

Hsing-te stepped closer to Wang-li to get a better look. The writing was not Chinese. It was clearly Hsi-hsia, which was similar to Chinese but definitely not Chinese. No matter how hard Hsing-te tried, he could not read it. When Hsing-te informed Wang-li that he could not read it because it was not Chinese, Wang-li looked scornfully at him and said, “You mean to say you can only read Chinese? All right then, be off now!” He raised his voice angrily.

Hsing-te did not obey. “This is Hsi-hsia writing. If you introduce me to someone who knows it, I’ll be able to read it in two or three days. I’ve wanted to learn Hsi-hsia for some time. I’d like to go to Hsing-ch’ing. If you let me, I think I can soon be of help to you.”

“Hmm.” Wang-li’s eyes glittered as he stared at Hsing-te. “All right,” he said. “If you survive the next battle, I’ll ask my commander to let you learn Hsi-hsia. I’m a man of my word. If we both survive I’ll definitely keep my promise to you. Remember that!” said Wang-li.

Then Hsing-te asked his superior why someone who could not read would notice the writing on Hsing-te’s uniform.

“It wasn’t I. Li Yüan-hao noticed it.” Wang-li would say no more.

After this incident, Hsing-te was called in by Wang-li from time to time and given special duties. The commander was interested in him because he could read and write. He also seemed to respect Hsing-te.

In mid-May, Li Yüan-hao personally led the whole army in an invasion of Kan-chou, the Uighur garrison. Hsing-te was called in again by Wang-li the night before their unit was scheduled to leave as part of the vanguard.

“I’ll let you join my unit. My troops have never lost a battle yet. About eighty percent die in battle, but the survivors always win the battle. As a special favor to you, I’ll let you join me,” said Wang-li. Hsing-te felt neither too pleased nor displeased at the news.

Wang-li continued, “I’m thinking of building a monument for our unit if we win the next battle. I’ll let you write the epitaph.”

“Where do you plan to build it?”

“Who can tell? I don’t know yet—perhaps in the middle of the desert or in some village in Kan-chou. If we win but lose most of the men in battle, we’ll build a monument on that spot.”

“What if we should die?”

“Who? You mean me?” Wang-li’s characteristically sharp eyes glittered. “Even I may die. Build a monument even if I die.”

“And what if I die?”

“It would complicate things. Try your best to survive. But you might be killed at that. Everyone who has talked with me on the night before a battle has been killed. Yes, you may die.”

Hsing-te’s new commander spoke in this vein. Hsing-te did not like what Wang-li had to say, but he was not particularly frightened by the thought of dying. When he asked whether the writing on the monument should be in Chinese or Hsi-hsia, Wang-li roared, “Stupid! Naturally, Chinese must be used on the monument. We are not Hsi-hsia. The Hsi-hsia language is just good for reading orders, that’s all.”

Rumor had it that Wang-li had formerly been a Sung soldier at Liang-chou and had been taken prisoner when the city fell into Hsi-hsia hands. Since then he had been assigned to the vanguard of the Hsi-hsia army. Naturally, this was just gossip and no one had asked him about it. Wang-li was terribly ashamed of his past, and it was said that should anyone mention the subject, he would get into a terrible rage.

Hsing-te liked this middle-aged hero.

It took a whole day—from dawn of one day until dawn of the next—for the Hsi-hsia army to set out from Liang-chou on its way to invade Kan-chou. The total force of two hundred thousand men were divided into more than ten armies, which left through the stone city gate at one- or two-hour intervals, so a continual stream throughout the day and night headed west from the fertile plains which lay to the city’s north. Each army was preceded by a cavalry force, after which came a long line of infantry, followed by hundreds of camels laden with food supplies.

Hsing-te, a member of the vanguard, was in the first unit to leave. Of the several units in the vanguard, more than half the troops in each were Chinese soldiers; the others were Asha, Tangut, and various other peoples. Soon after the vanguard had passed through the rich plains, the terrain alternated between sandy, gravelly areas and marshy swamp-lands, and from the afternoon of the day of their departure the advance was extremely difficult.

The distance from Liang-chou to Kan-chou was one hundred and eighty miles. Between these two garrisons many rivers from the Ch’i-lien mountains flowed into the parched areas and formed oases. The first night the regiment camped on the banks of the Chiang-pa River; the second, on the banks of the Tan-shan River; and the third, on the rocky shores of a nameless river close by the mountains. All that night the wind howled ceaselessly. On the fourth morning the troops arrived on the banks of the Shui-mo River, and the following afternoon they entered a ravine enclosed by mountains to the north and south.

When they had passed through the ravine on the sixth day, the men stopped to rest for a day. From this point on, the way to Kan-chou was almost all on level terrain. The men fell into battle formation and went on. It was a march across a desert, with not a single tree in sight. On the seventh and eighth nights the troops camped along the banks of a murky, yellow river which cut deeply into the yellow earth of the plateaus. Guards were posted from the seventh day.