The Warring States, Books 1-3

by Greg Strandberg

  “One hundred years is not enough time if you want him to fully grasp the significance of the Three Jins,” Zhai said as he absently held a stick in the fire.

  “I suppose that a proper place to begin would be with the founding of the Zhou Dynasty more than six hundred years ago,” Liu said as he settled himself down and stared into the fire. “It was then that a young upstart by the name of Wu, who proclaimed himself King of the Zhou tribe, rose up against King Di Xin of the ruling Shang Dynasty and defeated him with forty-five thousand men and three hundred chariots at the Battle of Muye.”

  “A legendary battle,” Zhai said, perking up at the name, “and one fought not too far from where we’re sitting now.”

  “The people had no problems with an upstart duke going against his ruler, the king?” Wei asked.

  Liu shook his head. “Toward the end of his reign the king became obsessed with his consort, a woman named Da Ji, to the exclusion of all else.”

  “He didn’t even notice the weakening of his allies by Duke Wen of Zhou, something that’d been going on for some time by the man that he’d originally called his ‘Count of the West’ for his duty to guard his rear while involved in a campaign to the south-east,” Zhai added. “King Di Xin had become angered with Duke Wen, however, and had him imprisoned for a brief time, which led the Duke to begin a silent campaign against the Shang King.”

  “You see, Wei,” Liu continued, “King Di Xin thought that he had the Mandate of Heaven and could do no wrong, a grievous error in judgment for a king to make.”

  “The Mandate of Heaven is like Shangdi himself giving permission for the ruler to rule,” Zhai interrupted. “It is only bequeathed to just and good rulers, or so many believe.”

  Liu nodded. “Many viewed Di Xin’s marriage to Da Ji as a sign that he had lost the Mandate of Heaven, for the man that had once been thought of as a good ruler was now seen by most as ruthless. Even the common peasants felt this way, and they overwhelmingly supported Duke Wen’s son, Duke Wu, as he continued his father’s campaign against the Shang.”

  Wei nodded eagerly as the two men told the story, and even Marquis Wen had propped himself up a bit more to listen, although his son Wu could be seen yawning from his spot near the fire.

  “The Zhou were better trained than their Shang counterparts, and their morale was much greater. They prevailed, and a successful chariot charge allowed Duke Wu to break through the Shang lines and reach the palace. There he found the burned remains of King Di Xin, who’d adorned himself with jewels before setting himself on fire. His wife Da Ji, the woman who many viewed as the cause of the hostilities, lay weeping by his charred corpse, until Duke Wu put an end to her misery with the point of his sword. To the people tasked with defending the city who’d dropped their weapons, however, he showed more leniency, allowing those who chose not to fight to live. In honor they proclaimed him the ‘father of the people.’ More than five hundred years of rule by the Shang Dynasty was ended and Duke Wu began the Zhou Dynasty, which still rules today.”

  “It is a fascinating tale, and one we should all take a lesson from,” Marquis Wen said, breaking the silence that had befallen when Zhai finished his story, “but a battle that took place more than six hundred years ago doesn’t quite answer Wei’s question as to the significance of the Three Jins.”

  Wen sat up and arched his eyebrows upward as he looked at Liu, and Liu was forced to smile despite himself.

  “No, it does not,” he said, shaking his head. “But it is a start, and a proper one, if we are to have a firm grasp of the relationship between the Zhou Kings and the Jin Dukes.”

  “Well, then by all means, carry on,” Wen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Just remember that we have to get an early start tomorrow if we want to arrive at that meeting before Marquis Lie and Marquis Jing. It wouldn’t do to be falling at Duke Kang’s feet from lack of sleep; he might think we’re there to show our fealty and not our might.”

  Liu smiled and glanced over at Zhai. “We’ll not go into quite so much detail as we cover the next six hundred years. In fact, why don’t we skip right down to what’s most relevant, the Battle of Jinyang and the Three Jins?”

  Zhai nodded and held up his hand for Liu to continue. Liu gave a slight smile then settled himself more comfortably before staring back into the fire.

  “Over the centuries after the Zhou Dynasty came into being, a four-way balance of power developed between four large states: Qin, Jin, Chu, and Qi,” Liu said, again taking up the tale. “It was not a time of peace, however, as state after state attacked one another, often dragging their allies of the moment into the conflicts with them.”

  “Around this time the power of the Jin Dukes began to wane,” Liu said. “Family rivalries led to the death of one Duke on orders from his uncle, who had the support of many of the ministerial clans, and who placed their own candidate onto the throne, naming him Duke of Jin. His grandson tried to exploit conflicts between the various clans in an attempt to break their growing power. In retaliation, the Luan and Zhonghang clans had him killed, and when the next Duke came to the throne he was unable or unwilling to halt their growing power. By the time his grandson came to power, the Jin Dukes were nothing more than figureheads of state; real power resided with the six clans: the Fan, Zhonghang, Zhi, Han, Zhao, and Wei.”

  “The six clans quickly began to vie with one another for power and the right to control the Jin Duke,” Liu said. “Very quickly the Fan and Zhonghang clans were eliminated completely, leaving only four clans, and of these, Zhi was the strongest. Using his position at court, where all decisions had to pass through him before reaching Duke Ai of Jin, the Zhi minister demanded territory from the ministers of the Han and Wei clans. They reluctantly complied, emboldening Zhi to demand territory from the more powerful Zhao clan, which flatly refused. Angered, Zhi then attacked Zhao, compelling Han and Wei to join, and together they marched, just fifty years ago now, upon the Zhao stronghold of Jinyang.”

  “As we know from what we just did to Zhongshan,” Liu said, “the three clans besieged Jinyang for three months without success before diverting the Fen River so as to flood the city. Still, the people of Jinyang held out for three years before the Zhou rulers were on the verge of surrender. Instead of surrendering to Zhi, however, Zhou entered into talks with Wei and Han and convinced the two states to turn on Zhi. With their aid, Zhou troops managed to get out of the city and attacked the Zhi troops guarding the dam on the Fen River, which they then destroyed, diverting the Fen River onto the Zhi camps below. In the confusion Wei and Han attacked the Zhi Army from the sides while the Zhao forces stormed out of their own flooded city as best they could and attacked the Zhi center. The Zhi ruler was captured and killed, and the Zhi lands evenly distributed among the three remaining clans.”

  “When Duke Ai of Jin died twenty years later the three clans annexed all of the remaining Jin lands except for the cities of Quwo and Jiang, which they allowed the current Duke, Duke Lie of Jin, to retain. From that time forward, Han, Wei, and Zhao have been called the Three Jins by many, although the title has never formally been declared by King Weilie of Zhou.”

  “Which will change in my lifetime,” Marquis Wen said confidently.

  Liu nodded but said nothing and Wei looked at his master, not sure if he really believed in what Marquis Wen had said.

  “Han, Wei, and Zhao have each sought the sole title of Jin ever since Duke Ai’s death,” Zhai said. “So far there has been no indication from any of the Zhou Kings that they’ll grant the title to just one state.”

  “And technically speaking,” Liu said, “neither Han, Wei, nor Zhao should even properly be called states. Many still think of them as clans, although it’s widely regarded that they’re three of the Seven States, which Jin isn’t even thought a part of anymore.”

  “They haven’t for some time,” Wen said.

  Zhai and Liu both nodded at Wen’s words and a silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
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  “So that brings us up to today, then, but where does Qi fit into all of this?” Wei asked. “I’ve heard of the struggles that have been going on between the two rival Houses of Jiang and Tian for more than a century, but I’m not sure what this all means for Wei, and why we chose to support House Tian over House Jiang.”

  “When the Jin Dukes were losing their power to the clans of the State of Jin, House Jiang was also beginning to lose its dominant position in the State of Qi,” Liu said. “The Tian Family began to eliminate many other rival families within the State of Qi and they rose to prominence. Eighty years ago now, the Tian Family killed the Jiang ducal heir and fought several rival clans. A few years later they killed a puppet duke placed on the throne by other rivals and killed most of that ruler’s family along with the clans that put him there.

  “Yes it is well known in the Seven States that House Tian has been steadily usurping power from House Jiang for more than a century now,” Wu said, sitting up. “For the past eighty years House Jiang has only controlled the capital of Linzi and Mount Tai.”

  “Control of Mount Tai is enough to ensure that House Jiang continues to rule,” Liu said. “The religious significance of the mountain is immense. It is, after all, where many believe Heaven and Earth meet, and it is the foremost of the Five Sacred Mountains.”

  “That is all well and good,” Wu said, “but if Duke Kang can’t even keep himself from being captured, then he has no right to rule.”

  Wen chuckled. “Yes, rulers should not be captured, especially dukes. Unfortunately for Duke Kang, that is precisely what happened to him when we sent in General Zhai Jue.”

  “It was a wise decision to agree to the request from House Tian for help,” Zhai said. “And one that will ensure the future friendship of Qi and Wei for some time.”

  “If the House of Tian is allowed to take over the leadership of Qi,” Liu said. “If not, then there’ll only be animosity between us.”

  “Not only us, but Zhou and Han as well,” Wen pointed out. “Don’t forget that Tai of House Tian requested help from each of us and that each of us sent in troops.”

  “The most important question in my mind is how King Weilie will feel about this recent development in Qi when he hears of it,” Liu said. “Will he agree with our decision to aid House Tian against an established ruler, seeing the necessity in such a move, or will it be frowned upon?”

  “As you’ve said, it’s been no surprise for the past eighty years that House Jiang has been losing ground to House Tian,” Zhai said. “King Weilie knows this as well as any of us, and shouldn’t be surprised that Duke Kang has finally fallen to such a low level.”

  The men fell silent then, each thinking of the consequences of General Zhai Jue’s actions in Qi, and what they could mean for Wei.

  “I think that’s enough history for one night,” Wu said after a few moments from where he was again lying down. “Would it be possible for us to all get some sleep now?”

  The others chuckled and nodded their heads and Liu reached for another log.

  “I think that would be a good idea,” he said with a smile as he threw the log onto the fire and watched it throw up a shower of sparks.

  THIRTEEN

  Zhai Huang was shaken awake. He slowly opened his eyes and then widened them in surprise, sitting up quickly.

  “Sire!” he said loudly, and immediately put his hand over his mouth as he looked around. “What is it?” he asked more quietly.

  “Nothing to be concerned about,” Wen replied casually as he kneeled beside Zhai. “I was just hoping that you would take a walk with me this morning, before we set off.”

  Zhai looked around again, certain that there had to be some other reason for Wen to wake him so early. The sun was barely beginning to show over the mountains to the east and the sky only held the faintest lines of orange surrounded by blackness.

  “If that’s your desire, Sire, then I’ll walk with you,” he said after a few moments, satisfied that there wasn’t a threat to their camp after all.

  Wen nodded and rose to his feet as Zhai shoved away the blanket he’d used and got up beside him. Their camp was quiet, the fire nothing more than faintly glowing embers. Liu and Wei were still asleep on the ground near each other while Wu was snoring slightly a short distance from them. Wen rose his arm to indicate the small path that led toward the river a short distance away and Zhai began moving in that direction.

  They skirted the edge of the larger camp of men that had arrived later in the evening, and despite the early hour the smell of steaming rice and vegetables carried to them as they walked past. They neared a lone sentry on the far edge of the camp and the man tensed up at their approach before calling out for them to stop. When he saw that it was his Marquis he turned to head back to the camp before Wen stopped him, saying that he was just on an early morning stroll and didn’t need any protection. The man hesitated, but Wen’s piercing eyes stopped any argument before it began, and the two continued on.

  The flat expanse of land gave way the further they walked from the road and as they got closer to the river tall grasses and bushes began to appear, followed by large trees. They could hear the river well before they could see it, and it wasn’t until they were only a dozen yards from it that Zhai was able to make out the white swirls and eddies produced by the river’s waves. Wen walked right down to the bank and stood staring out across the mighty flow of water for several minutes without saying anything. Finally he spoke, breaking the silence of the morning.

  “Liu’s tale kept me awake for some time last night,” he said as he looked out at the river. “My mind was like this river, but instead of churning with water it was churning with thoughts; thoughts of the past and all that has happened in my life, and thoughts of the future, and all that will happen when I’m gone.”

  “That is still quite some time off,” Zhai said quickly, more to appease Wen than from any true belief in his statement.

  “Zhai, we both know that I’m an old man and have been for many years. There won’t be much more that I’ll see in this life, and that’s why a meeting with King Weilie is so important to me.”

  “It’s something you’ve looked forward to for many years,” Zhai said.

  “That it has, that it has.”

  Wen kneeled down and began prying a small stone from the wet ground, and Zhai kneeled down beside him, ready to listen to whatever his Marquis wanted to say.

  “All my life I’ve wanted formal recognition for Wei from the Zhou Kings. I’ve waited many years and seen many kings come and go: King Zhending, King Ai, King Si, King Kao, and now King Weilie. I don’t know that I’ll live long enough to see another King take the Zhou throne, and I don’t know that I want to.”

  “No man can know what Shangdi has in store for him,” Zhai said quietly. “You may yet see another king, perhaps even two.”

  “Five Kings I’ve seen in my lifetime, and not one of them has recognized Wei as being anything more than an upstart clan, just as Liu described them last night,” Wen continued, ignoring Zhai’s comment. “When my grandfather, Wei Xiangzi, joined with the other clans to defeat the Fan and Zhonghang clans, no recognition came from the Zhou Kings. When my own father, Wei Huanzi, joined together with Zhao and Han against Zhi, together winning the Battle of Jinyang, still there was no recognition from the Zhou Kings. I wonder sometimes, Zhai, what purpose the Zhou Kings have today in the Seven States when they continue to proclaim Jin as a legitimate state, a family that can barely hold two cities, while three clans have, in less than a century, risen to become three of the most powerful families in the Seven States.”

  “You never hear the Seven States referred to as the Five States,” Zhai said, “which they would be called if Jin was thought to have any power and Wei, Han, and Zhao none.”

  Wen shook his head. “But without King Weilie’s support it means nothing.”

  “I’m sure that support and recognition will come soon,” Zhai said. “He will choose one of th
e three, either Wei, Han, or Zhao, to bear the Jin mantle. One of those families will be chosen by King Weilie to represent the Jin State, just as his ancestor King Xi did more than three hundred years ago with the Ji Family of Quwo.”

  “And what if it is Marquis Lie of Zhao or Marquis Jing of Han that’s granted that distinction and not I?” Wen asked, turning to look at Zhai for the first time since they’d reached the river. “What will happen then to the fragile balance that has kept the Seven States from attacking one another for more than fifty years?”

  “Perhaps King Weilie will grant all three states the title of Jin,” Zhai said after a moment. “He desires peace as much as the rest of us, perhaps even more so since he’s close to death and wants an easy transition for his own son. By granting the title of Jin to Wei, Han, and Zhao he ensures that there are not two states left wanting and ready to fight because of it.”

  “Could three states share the title of Jin?” Wen asked as he stared out at the river. “Perhaps, at first, but not for long” he said after a few moments. “Marquis Jing and I are old men, and we’d be content with the title, but would Marquis Lie, and what of our sons? Younger men have more ambition, and one of them wouldn’t be satisfied to share a title with two others. He could go to war and take it all for himself, or possibly lose everything.”

  “I don’t see Wu doing that, Sire,” Zhai said, knowing that Wen was now speaking of the fears for his own son.

  “Oh, I don’t either,” Wen admitted, “but it’s hard to tell what Marquis Lie and Marquis Jing’s sons would do, or even his and our grandsons. We both know what Hui is capable of, and I can see him going to war with the other two states even if he was the sole Jin.”

  Zhai nodded. “There is no telling with that one.”

  Wen sighed and rose back up to his feet, putting his hand on Zhai’s shoulder. The Minister of War rose beside his marquis in silence as he stared out at the river.

  “I’ve seen so much in my lifetime,” Wen said after a few minutes. “Wei has risen to become one of the most powerful states in all the Seven States, even if we’re not even properly regarded as a state by King Weilie.”