The pitch of the soldier’s cheering cry rose to its utmost limit as Yue cracked the reins across the horse’s back again and again to build up speed. Then the cheers suddenly turned into a loud groaning gasp as the chariot’s right wheel passed just inches from Wu’s head. Yue was moving with such speed and force and had been expecting the feel of Wu’s head beneath his chariot that he didn’t at first slow the chariot when the cry of despair rose from the soldiers. By the time he realized his mistake it was too late; the chariot plowed into the front rows of soldiers, knocking many to the ground and wounding several.
The crowd began to grow unruly and some of them even tried to start fighting in their frustration over the near miss. Zhai rushed out into the circle and raised his arms over his head trying to return order to the ranks.
“One more pass!” he yelled out at the soldiers, reminding them that it wasn’t yet over.
The soldiers quieted down and the higher-ranking men in the crowd restored order to those nearest them as Zhai went back to stand next to Marquis Wen.
“Not a good sign, what just happened there,” Wen said quietly as Zhai reached him.
“He’ll finish it on the third pass,” Zhai said as he resumed his position next to Marquis Wen.
Wen said nothing as he stared at Yue. With the aid of several of the soldiers the chariot managed to back out of the crowd and Yue got it turned around and pointed toward Wu. Bright red blood now marred the front wooden frame and it seemed that Yue was shaken, whether by the near miss or the incident with the crowd, Wen couldn’t tell. It was several minutes before the crowd fell silent once again and Yue readied the chariot for another pass.
With a loud crack that could be heard all through the crowd, Yue lashed the reins against the horse and the chariot jerked into motion for the final time. The crowd stood still and silent, but as Yue approached the Duke on a straight path their cheer began to rise once again. It would be close, all who watched could tell, but if Wu was struck it would be by the left tire this time, which was on a straight line toward his head. Wu saw that this pass would be the one, and he closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer to Shangdi.
The soldiers cheer rose again to a high-pitch and then fell silent, the only sound the chariot rushing over the ground as it harmlessly passed Wu. The left wheel had come within an inch of the Duke’s head, but it had done nothing more than throw some dirt into his hair.
Yue pulled up on the reins and ripped the blindfold from his head as he turned the chariot around to face Wu once again. He couldn’t see his face, but Yue imagined that Duke Wu was smiling. Not a sound was heard amongst the crowd as Yue hopped from the back of the chariot and quickly approached the crowd of soldiers.
“Shovel!” he yelled to them with an outstretched hand, and a slight murmur rose from the soldiers closest to him.
Within moments a shovel had been passed through the ranks and a soldier rushed up to hand it to his general. Yue took it without a word and slowly walked toward the Duke. He didn’t look at Wu’s face as he thrust the shovel into the dirt near his head and began digging, for custom dictated that if a man survived a trial by chariot it was the duty of the defeated to dig him out.
The crowd stood by in silence as they watched their general dig up their enemy. Yue already had a few feet dug up around the Duke’s head and Wu’s shoulders could clearly be seen.
Hui stood beside his father and grandfather and watched, disgusted by the spectacle. Suddenly, without a word, he dashed out into the circle and ran toward the chariot. A confused murmur rose up from the soldiers as they watched him, then grew louder as they realized what he was doing. Some began cheering his action while others condemned it with shouts of anger. Hui was unconcerned either way, and within moments he’d reached the chariot and hopped up onto it. He grabbed the reins and cracked them hard across the horse’s back, sending the animal into motion once again.
Yue stared at him in disbelief as he got closer and closer and the cries and cheers from the crowd grew louder and louder. He stood his ground, waving the shovel in the air in a feeble attempt to stop Hui, then jumped out of the way at the last instant. Duke Wu, unable to see Hui approaching from behind him, but certain of what was happening, remained as quiet as he’d had during the first three passes. At the last instant the crowd went silent and the bottom of the chariot met squarely with the back of Duke Wu’s head, severing it from his exposed shoulders to roll along under the chariot before coming to a rest near the edge of the circle.
Hui reined up the horses and hopped from the chariot before walking swiftly to the Duke’s head. He bent down and grabbed it by the still tied top-knot and held it up for all to see. To his surprise the soldiers remained quiet as he turned around and jerked his arm up and down for them. After a few moments he lowered the head then stared at his grandfather.
Marquis Wen’s face showed no sign of what he was feeling, but those around him were certain that it was unbridled rage at the impertinence of his grandson. All eyes in the crowd went to him as he walked out into the circle alone toward Hui, moving slowly and deliberately.
Hui held up the head in front of him and smiled as his grandfather approached, but Wen didn’t take his eyes from Hui’s. When he was close enough he stopped and without a word slapped Hui hard across the face with the back of his hand then again with the front. Hui dropped Duke Wu’s head to the ground and staggered back a step, but Wen stepped forward too and backhanded him again. A large red gash appeared on Hui’s upper lip where one of Wen’s rings had bit into his skin and Hui instinctively moved his hand to the gushing cut.
“How dare you disgrace me like that you damn fool!” Wen shouted at Hui as he slapped him hard across the face again and again. “Never in all of my years have I been so humiliated!”
Hui fell to the ground and tried to cover his face with his hands but Wen continued to strike him. Finally, after several moments Wen stopped and straightened once again, smoothing his robes down around him.
“You are no longer my grandson,” he said quietly before spitting down onto Hui. He then turned to address the crowd.
“Go back to your tents,” he said loudly for all to hear, although the silence around the circle was palatable. “Tomorrow we begin the work of bringing Zhongshan into Wei.”
Wen walked over to Yue who was again standing, and the two then started back toward the edge of the circle, the crowd already departing, their heads low and their talk quiet. No one moved toward Hui and it was only after the crowd had fully dispersed that he picked himself up off the ground and walked shamefully back to his own tent.
NINE
The days passed and turned into weeks as the Wei Army soldiers and workers cleaned up the city and began joining Zhongshan with Wei. There was no resistance following the first day’s breach of the city, and within the first week all the water had been drained and the streets cleaned sufficiently to bring back a semblance of normality to the citizen’s daily lives.
Marquis Wen spent long nights in council with his advisors Liu Kui and Zhai Huang going over plans for the incorporation of the state, and the problems that came along with it. Their greatest point of interest was Zhongshan’s location. Lying far north of Wei, Zhongshan was separated from Wei by the State of Zhou. While permission had initially been granted by Zhou for Wei to pass through their lands on their first sorties into Zhongshan, discussions for further rights of passage were becoming bogged-down in political wrangling.
Ximen Bao was rarely consulted at all after the city fell, a fact that he liked and which afforded him more and more time to again take up the plans for the great canal project that would be his legacy. The work to put the Fan River back onto its previous course had taken only two days, and Ximen was pleased to see that the river’s banks had been strengthened to a greater extent than when he’d started the diversion project six months earlier. There would be no flooding of the surrounding area from the spring runoff this year; something which he hoped would create further goodwill between the
people of the two states as they quickly became one.
Getting all the water out of the city, however, had proven to be a much more difficult and time consuming task. Work had begun immediately after Duke Wu’s death following the botched trial by chariot. Many of the soldiers had been put to work with hammers and chisels that night, tasked with creating holes in the city’s walls. The work had been slow and tedious, but within a few days there were dozens of openings around the base of the wall, holes large enough to have lowered the water in the city by a noticeable amount.
The main problem had been the city itself. Resting on a flat plain, it was difficult to drain the water anywhere, and even more so to get it out of the city, which had been constructed to rise as one headed further into it. This meant that the majority of the water had to come out the way it had come in – through the front gates. This could have been accomplished fairly quickly if it wasn’t for the sprawling troop encampments that were spread all about the front of the city. The water couldn’t be allowed to flow over them, so it had been decided that the troops would just have to move.
It sounded like an easy enough task, but it had proven more difficult and time-consuming than anyone had previously thought. What had been expected to take a day or two at most had stretched into nearly a week as the thousands of troops were packed and moved further away from the city. Several late night meetings followed with all of Marquis Wen’s advisors and many of the high-ranking military men under General Yue. It was decided that more than half the army would march northwest toward the Qin borderlands that General Wu Qi still assaulted, while a third would head back to Anyi, the rest left to protect and oversee further work around the city.
The troops had begun moving the next morning, and within a week the area around the city seemed deserted after thousands had been camped outside, many of them for nearly two years. Ximen had ordered that a large section of the city wall around the front gates be torn down, making it easier for the water to flow out. Work had begun before the troops had even fully moved away, and within a week hundreds of men were using hammers and picks to tear away at the wall all hours of the day and night. Those that weren’t employed on the wall were set with the task of clearing the mile-long embankments that had been constructed to allow the river to flow into the city. After only a day of work at that, however, Ximen quickly abandoned the notion. Only a few feet had been moved by more than a hundred workers and soldiers, and the engineer knew that the task was futile. He ordered that the embankments would remain where they were, although they’d eventually be reduced in size. Workers were ordered to spread the dirt out around the area, making ideal planting areas for crops in the years to come, as well as a long-term building project for the citizens of the city.
Deciding how to manage the city proved to be one of the more contentious tasks confronting Marquis Wen. General Yue lobbied hard for the position, arguing that he’d spent his time and blood in the task of taking the city, losing his only son in the process, and therefore should be made governor. Minister of War Zhai argued against this, saying that the people could never accept the man that conquered them as their ruler. The debates went on for a day and a night before Wen made his decision, siding with Zhai in the end. General Yue was ordered to oversee the breakup of his army and then escort the contingent heading back to the capital. He’d then be officially relieved of command with great ceremony when Wen himself returned in a month’s time, although it was made known to him that he’d no longer command an army in the field. Yue took the news well and thanked the Marquis, at which point Wen informed him that he would become governor of the Lingshou Prefecture along the Wei border with Qi. Yue was grateful for the prestigious posting that would allow him to live out his remaining years in ease and he left the city the next day at the head of the long column of troops, his head held high.
What hadn’t been discussed, as far as Ximen was concerned, was the fate of Marquis Wen’s grandson, Hui. The man had been left to himself following his stunning action during the trial by chariot, and he seemed to skulk around the camps, waiting for some task, although none ever came. It was rumored that he’d be sent to the front lines in the fight against Qin, his grandfather already having informed General Wu Qi to put him in the most dangerous engagements. Others said that he’d be chosen to administer Zhongshan, something that most thought farfetched. In the end, no one knew for sure what fate would befall the eventual heir to the throne of Wei, but after the first few days all agreed that it wouldn’t be death.
And so the weeks had passed, the troops leaving and the city becoming closer to itself again after two years of grief. Ximen was working late one night, torches illuminating the area around the Fan River where the dam had stood, as he oversaw some of the workers making a few last touches to the newly strengthened banks. His ear picked up the sound of a chariot coming down the road toward the river, but he paid it little attention. He hadn’t been called before Marquis Wen in nearly a week, when it’d been agreed that he would leave Zhongshan. Ximen had longed for that day to come, eager to be back on his canal project in the south, and he was now all set to leave the following morning.
It was with great surprise, therefore, when a soldier approached him and told him that the Marquis requested his presence back at camp.
Ximen stroked his beard as he considered the words.
“Perhaps he wants to wish me farewell one last time before I leave,” Ximen said more to himself than the messenger.
The soldier shrugged his shoulders at the remark and gestured for the engineer to walk to the road and the awaiting chariot. The night air blew coolly into Ximen’s face as the chariot thundered down the road, the large embankments still towering over them, although as they got closer to the city they were greatly diminished in height. Already orchards were being staked off on the ground that had been set aside for the dirt from the embankments, the soil particularly good after having been exposed to the river water for more than a week.
The usual two guards stood watch outside of the Marquis’s tent, and there was nothing out of the ordinary to make Ximen think that there would be any changes to the plans he’d previously discussed with Wen. Still, he shuddered to think that Wen would want him to stay any longer in Zhongshan; after all, there was little for an experienced engineer to do anymore, the majority of the work fit only for basic laborers at this point. No, Ximen thought as he walked past the guards and began to pull the tent flap aside, Marquis Wen will just wish him farewell one last time, knowing full-well that he’d most likely rise before the sun so as to get as close as possible to his beloved canal the next day.
Ximen entered the tent and was immediately surprised to see Hui standing next to a seated Wen. They were the only two men inside the tent and both stared at him without expression as he entered.
“Marquis Wen,” Ximen bowed, “Heir Hui. To what do I owe this honor?”
“It is we that are honored by your presence,” Marquis Wen replied as he stood up from his chair and approached Ximen.
Ximen straightened and cast a quick glance at Hui before meeting Wen’s eyes. The heir seemed depressed as Ximen looked at him, his eyes downcast.
“I will be leaving early tomorrow morning,” Ximen said as Wen reached him and clapped his hands on his shoulders.
Ximen was surprised by the strength of his ruler; although Wen was by far the oldest man in the camp, his grip had the strength of some of Ximen’s workers who weren’t even a fraction of the Marquis’s age.
“And that is why I called you here tonight,” Wen replied, still holding Ximen’s shoulders as he looked into his eyes. “I want to say goodbye to you tonight, and to my grandson.”
“Your grandson?” Ximen asked, not sure what Wen was talking about. It was known throughout the camp, and most likely in the rest of the Seven States by now, that Wen had publicly severed all ties with Hui the night of the Duke Wu’s death.
“Yes,” Wen said with a laugh as he released Ximen and turned to look back
at Hui, raising his arm up at the young man. “You know Hui, of course, and,” Wen said as he turned back to look at Ximen once again, “you will get to know him much better over the coming years.”
Ximen’s mouth opened, and he was about to reply, but then he shut it. Wen couldn’t possibly be doing what Ximen thought he was doing.
“You’re sending Hui to work on the canal,” he said after a few moments.
“The work will do him good,” Wen said with a smile. “The boy needs discipline, as you well know, and I think a few years of hard labor will give it to him.”
“But Sire,” Ximen said quickly, “the work of the canal is very exacting and detailed. Many of my best engineers require years of training on smaller projects before they can be trusted to lead others themselves.”
Wen shook his head and raised his hand. “Oh, I’m not talking about having Hui make decisions, far from it.”
He laughed and turned back to look at Hui, whose eyes were still firmly planted on the floor.
“I want Hui to work alongside the common workers,” he continued. “Surely there’s no experience needed for that?”
Ximen’s mouth again fell open as he looked from Hui to Wen and back again.
“No, Sire,” he stammered, unable to think of anything else to say, so at a loss of words was he.
“Good, it is settled then!” Wen said with a wide smile. “Hui will leave with you in the morning. I hope he can be in the thick of the work within the next few days.”
Ximen stared from one man to the other for a few moments before replying, his mind still reeling from the shock of the news.
“If that is what you wish, Sire, then that is what shall be,” he said finally.
“I knew I could count on you, Ximen,” Wen said as he moved back to his chair and put his arm around Hui. “Now, Hui, don’t you think that you should thank Ximen for the opportunity he’s given you?”
Hui clenched his fists at his sides and Ximen could see anger burning in his eyes as he raised his head and looked at him.
The Warring States, Books 1-3 Page 10