The Warring States, Books 1-3

by Greg Strandberg

  Pai paced back and forth across the small room a few more times before he was able to bring his excitement under control enough to stop at the window and peer down onto the street below.

  “The army is moving its forces toward Shouchun as we speak, and they’ll be there in force in just two days. From there they’ll spill across the border into Yue toward the capital city of Wu. If everything goes right, they should be victorious in a matter of days.”

  “If everything goes right,” Dai repeated skeptically.

  Pai turned from the window to look at him. “What could go wrong? The army’s been overhauled and re-trained for years now. Our latest reports claim that Chu’s forces outnumber those of Yue by nearly three-to-one.”

  “What could go wrong?” Dai asked, leaning back in his chair to stair thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Well, first of all, we’re an invading army that’ll be going up against a heavily entrenched force defending its capital. Men have a tendency to fight all the harder when their backs are up against the wall. Secondly, many of these newly trained troops that make up such a large portion of our army have never seen combat and have never raised their swords in anger. How will they perform when the time comes to put their training to the test?”

  “They’ll perform admirably, I’ve no fear.”

  “You’re confidence is what is admirable, Pai, although, I fear, a bit misplaced.”

  Pai moved away from the window and back to the desk, taking one of the chairs that sat in front of it. “So you think they’ll lose?”

  “I don’t so much as think they’ll lose, per se; there is a better than average chance that they’ll win.” Dai leaned forward once again and spoke in a quieter tone. “I think of what would happen if they did lose. Where would that put Wu Qi? What would a serious defeat of the army, an army which was recruited and trained according to his orders, do to his high standing and regard within the top tiers of the government?”

  “It would most assuredly ruin him,” Pai said without hesitation, and Dai nodded.

  “But is the ruination of Wu Qi worth that price?” Pai asked.

  “You tell me, Pai. I was under the impression that you hated the man and would do anything to put things back the way they were before he arrived on the scene.”

  “But ensuring that our army loses? I think that might be too far.”

  “So now all of a sudden you want Wu Qi and his ideas to prevail, is that it? Tell me, Pai, how much longer will it be before your own family is shipped off to live in some desolate waste of a border town on the pretext that your presence their will make the state safe and strong?”

  Pai shifted uneasily in his chair. “It just seems a bit much, is all.”

  “As were the changes that most of the state was put through over these past years,” Dai said.

  “So what do you have in mind,” Pai said after a few moments of silence.

  Dai rose from his chair and walked slowly to the window, peering out onto the busy street below. “It’s no longer enough that Wu Qi himself be killed: his ideas have already spread too far into society. The ideas themselves must be killed now, and to do that we have to discredit them. The best way is through our army’s defeat.”

  Dai turned back to face Pai. “Birds will be sent to the Yue Court in Wu, warning them of the invasion. Detailed reports of the army’s strength will also be sent, ensuring that the Yue forces can strike back effectively.”

  “What you propose is treason!” Pai said.

  “What I’m proposing is a course that will allow us to return Chu to the way things were before Wu Qi arrived.”

  “And if your actions are discovered, then what? They’ll kill you without pause.”

  “If our actions are discovered,” Dai said, “and trust me, Pai, they won’t be.”

  “But if they are-”

  “I thought you wanted Wu Qi gone more than anyone, Pai. Don’t tell me that you’re suddenly having second thoughts.”

  “Well, it’s just that…”

  Dai walked from the window to stand behind Pai. He reached down and began to gently massage Pai’s shoulders.

  “Yue is a powerful state, one of the most powerful in the Seven States, and one that should, by all rights, be counted among those Seven,” Dai said calmly. “It won’t come as a great surprise, therefore, when Chu is defeated by them. Wu Qi’s ideas were lofty, and perhaps a bit too much too soon. The people will understand.” Dai began pressing his fingers into Pai’s shoulders more forcefully. “But I can assure you, Pai, that if even a hint of what we have spoken of here today begins to be talked of in the streets, I will know who to blame.”

  Pai tried to sit up in the chair but Dai’s powerful hands kept him pressed down.

  “There is no backing out now, Pai. You are part of this whether you like it or not.”

  Dai released his grasp on Pai and the man shot up from the chair. He turned quickly to face Dai, and got a slight smile in return.

  “Remember what we’ve said here today, Pai. You’re just as much a part of this as I.”

  Pai fixed Dai with a challenging stare then hurriedly walked past him to the door of the small office, pulling it open quickly to step outside. Dai watched him go then went back to the window. After a few moments he saw Pai burst out onto the street, walk a few paces, then turn around to look up at the window. Their eyes met and they held gazes. After a moment Pai seemed to let out a deep breath and shrink into himself. He looked back up at Dai in the window and nodded before turning and walking down the street at a slow pace. Dai smiled as he watched him go.

  NINE

  Wu Qi stared down at his feet for a moment before returning his eyes to Duke Dao.

  “You do me a great honor, Sire, but I gave up all military pursuits when I left Wei.”

  “I would hardly label watching our invasion of the Yue capital a military pursuit,” Duke Dao answered.

  Wu again lowered his eyes to his feet, trying to think of some way to say no to his ruler without exactly saying the words.

  They were in the throne room of the palace, the immensity of it supported by four large marble columns that soared dozens of feet to the ceiling above. A rich white and grey carpet stretched along the marble floor to the only chair in the room, the gold-enameled throne that Duke Dao currently occupied. Standing behind him a few paces was his son and heir, Su Xiong, a young man less than thirty years of age, but who Wu knew from the few times he had spoken with him to be a bright and capable individual, and one that would honorably follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “Surely you want to see your ideas in action,” Su said from behind his father, drawing Wu’s eyes up once again. “The army that will take the field in but a few days will be one that you yourself had a hand in making.”

  “I would hardly say that,” Wu began, before Duke Dao raised his hand and cut him off.

  “It’s true that you did not personally train the men, but it was your training that they followed. Before the army was heavily dependent upon nobles and their chariots, now its true strength lies in the peasant infantry. And they number in the thousands. Surely you’ll want to see them take the field.”

  Wu shook his head. “It does not interest me, Sire.”

  “Well, then I order you to be present,” Duke Dao said, anger edging into his voice.

  “As you wish, Sire,” Wu said with a slight bow. “May I be dismissed now? If I am to ride on the morrow then I had best be prepared.”

  “Go,” Duke Dao said with a wave of his hand, and Wu turned to walk down the long carpet to the large double doors at the end of the hall. General Min was waiting for him in the hallway.

  “So you’ll be accompanying us,” he said more than asked when Wu emerged from the throne room.

  “Looks that way,” Wu replied as the two began walking down the long hallway that would lead out of the royal residence and to Wu’s own, more humble quarters.

  “I don’t know why you sound so sullen about it. There was a time when
you led men into battle; surely you must miss that.”

  “No.”

  Min frowned and hurried to keep up with the fast steps of Wu. “What’s the matter, Wu? You knew that your proposals would strengthen the Chu Army, and you knew that would lead to fighting.” He chuckled. “That is what armies are for.”

  Wu stopped and faced Min. “The plans that I proposed and which were adopted did call for a strengthening of the army, but only because that is the only route that common peasants are able to take to lift themselves up from their dreary existence. Believe me, Min, if there were other avenues that the masses could take to better themselves, I would have tried it.”

  “And what is wrong with the army? It put both you and I where we are today,” Min shot back.

  “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the army in and of itself,” Wu answered. “It’s what it’s used for that troubles me.”

  “Armies wage war, Wu. We both know that.”

  “So tomorrow we move against Yue, and perhaps in another year or two a different state. But what will happen, Min, when there are no more smaller states left? Which of the Seven States will be the first to break the peace that was made?”

  “That is not for us to worry about, Wu,” Min said as they resumed walking and turned the corner leading to Wu’s room. “Marquis’ and Dukes make those decisions, we just tell the troops what to do when they’ve been made.”

  “It doesn’t trouble you to know that one day all of the Seven States will find themselves in one large war, a war that will kill tens of thousands, if not more, and leave the country in ruin.”

  “I don’t lose any sleep over it, if that’s what you mean,” Min said.

  Wu shook his head and reached into his robe for the key to his room.

  “Wu,” Min said, grabbing hold of Wu’s arm to stop him. “I do think on it sometimes, but truly, those decisions are not up to me. I’m not a ruler of a state, never will be, and never want to. And this war that you speak of so often these days, well, I doubt that it will occur in my lifetime, or the lifetime of my son.”

  “But it will happen, you do know that don’t you?”

  Min looked down at the floor, but nodded. “It must,” he said quietly.

  Wu put his own hand on Min’s shoulder and walked him the few feet remaining to his door. “Listen, Min. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. I still have to pack some things, and I know that you have a lot to do. Let’s not worry about this now.”

  Min looked up and nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning then. You’ll ride with me alongside the Duke’s division.”

  “He’s still intent upon leading men into battle?” Wu asked.

  Min nodded. “Insists upon it.”

  “Well, try to steer him away from the heaviest fighting,” Wu said as he shook his head.

  “Believe me, I will,” Min said as he turned to leave. “Now, get some rest, we’ve a long day ahead of us.”

  TEN

  The sun shone resplendently on the thousands of soldiers marching from the Chu capital, bright rays glinting off of the dagger-axes clutched tightly in the men’s hands. Most were outfitted in simple robes stretching from neck to feet, but several wore leather jerkins over their upper bodies. Some men had crossbows hanging from their shoulders, with quivers of bolts on their backs, but most favored the traditional dagger-axes. The weapon consisted of a long wooden shaft the height of a man with an iron dagger affixed perpendicularly at the top. The dagger measured a few inches in come cases, and up to a foot in others. Sometimes the dagger would point only one way while other times it would have a head like an axe. The weapon could be swung, and if the shaft was broken, men could thrust with it.

  The column of soldiers stretched for more than a mile as it made its way out of the city. At the head were hundreds of chariots carrying the commanders and other officers, followed by the infantry on foot, more than half of which was still clustered around the city waiting for the long column to stretch out in front of them before they could join its ranks. The road, though wide, could only allow five to six men to march abreast. At that pace it would be nearly midday before all the soldiers were on the move.

  Wu Qi and General Min watched it all from a high hill overlooking the city.

  “It begins,” Min said, his arms folded across his chest and into the long sleeves of his robe. “Your ideas are now a reality.”

  “It was my idea to lift up a large portion of the peasants, not go after Yue,” Wu replied.

  “Look down there, Wu. Most of those men marching are peasants, and just a few years ago many of them couldn’t even care for their families. You’ve changed that.”

  “It’ll be awfully difficult to care for their families when they’re lying dead in another state.”

  “Come now, you’ve got to have more faith in them than that. For two years we’ve been recruiting and training these men to the standards which you yourself put forth. Sure, many will die, but many more will become even better-off than they are now. When all of the farmlands of Yue are opened up to them they’ll want for nothing.”

  “And what of the Yue peasantry?” Wu asked. “Will they be better off?”

  Min turned to face Wu. “Everything will work out.”

  Wu shrugged and turned away from the sight below. “Let us hope so.”

  They walked back to the chariot that stood away from the hill’s ridge and climbed in. Min took the reins and they were soon racing down to join up with the full road of marching soldiers. They were forced to ride on the rough embankment of the road because of the men, but after a time they reached the head of the column, led by Duke Dao. The Duke was wearing his customary dark grey robes with a long white sash, the tail of which blew behind his racing chariot. All about him were other military officials, men that would command different wings and divisions of the massive army. They’d have command of the parts, but Wu and Min would command the whole

  Wu had argued against a place of authority within the army when it was made known that he would be coming to Yue, but Duke Dao would hear none of it.

  “You had the ideas, you will lead the men,” Dao had said in his throne room the day before.

  Wu could tell right away that any argument would be pointless, so he graciously accepted what to any other man would have been a great honor, but to him only seemed a burden.

  “Are they all on the road yet?” Dao yelled out when their chariot came up alongside his.

  “They’re still camped outside the city, waiting for the column to stretch out,” Min yelled back in reply. “It’ll be midday before they’re all moving.”

  “No matter, it’ll take us several days to reach the outskirts of Shouchun. By then all the men will be in place.”

  Wu hoped that the Duke was correct in his prediction and not just overly confident. Dao had been Duke for less than five years, and had never commanded troops in the field. Wu wished that he could say that Dao still had experience with warfare, but he couldn’t. Not since Duke Hui, Dao’s great-grandfather, had a Chu leader led men in war, and that had been more than fifty years earlier and in a different time. Duke Hui hadn’t had problems with an oversized bureaucracy like Dao had, and at that time the Chu Army had been widely respected by all throughout the Seven States, and feared by many as well. Duke Hui had been a born leader of men in battle, and his long reign, nearly fifty years, had seen the last conquests of Chu against their smaller neighbors. Cai and Chen had been smaller states, but they had also been powerful. No one would have known that, however, by the way that Hui had led his men rolling through their lands. The defenders they found waiting for them there were considered strong and hardy by their neighbors, but only meek to the forces of Chu.

  So confident was he in his army that Hui had planned and ordered a dual attack on both neighboring states at the same time. Many men wouldn’t have had the confidence to dare such a risky move, but Hui was said to have enough confidence for ten men, and the intelligence to make it true. Within a week b
oth states were no more and Chu had increased in both size and population. Hui himself lived for another twenty years, but it was said that he was filled with depression for much of that time. With no more smaller neighbors to invade and conquer there was little for the Warrior Duke to do but sit in his court and hear the affairs of state, affairs which bored him endlessly and which he had no heart for.

  It was during those final decades of his reign that the bureaucracy of Chu began to swell in size and the nobility with it. Hui relegated more and more of the affairs of state to various government officials, many of whom had strong ties to the nobility. The duke only retreated further into himself. During the last few years he barely left his apartments within the Royal Palace at all, and it was said that the smell of his decomposing body was the only way that his servants knew of his death, so reclusive had he become.

  None of the military prowess that Hui had exhibited so often and with such zeal on the battlefield was to be found in his oldest son and heir, Duke Jian, Dao’s grandfather. By the time his father died and he took the throne, Chu hadn’t led a military campaign in twenty years. The states that had already growing in power during Hui’s time were now much too powerful for the timid Jian to confront.

  It soon became obvious that the greatest threat to Chu was their neighbor to the east, the State of Yue. Having risen to power through the support of Chu more than a century earlier as a counterweight to the growing power of the small State of Wu even further to the east, Yue had eventually grown so strong that it overthrew Wu and supplanted it as the most likely threat to Chu. And that threat had been allowed to grow stronger and stronger under Jian and then his own son and onward to Dao’s father, Duke Sheng. Both men had done little to stop the decay of the army or the growth of the bureaucracy and the rising power of the nobility.

  Any thought of returning Chu to it previous glory through a military conquest was quickly laughed down, for the army had been allowed to fall into such a disrespectful and sorry state that many believed it couldn’t even put down an unruly mob of peasants. The problems with the army had in fact begun during the waning two decades of Hui’s rule, for with no enemies to fight, and with Hui having no heart to rule, the nobility and bureaucracy together decided to drastically reduce funding for the military, and the ranks quickly dwindled. Confounding matters was that neither Dukes’ Jian nor Sheng had ruled for a substantial length of time. Jian reigned for just over twenty years, but he had done little of consequence to address the problems facing the state during that time. Sheng had tried where his father had failed, but he was already an old man when he took power, and his rein lasted but five short years.