The Warriors Path

by Brian Thomas

  “It is also a great day as our militia has had its first victory, winning a battle. A small battle yes, but a battle nevertheless and against greater odds. They were able to do this because of their courage and their training. They are heroes and I salute them, as should you!” Raising both of his hands in the air Zun shouted out “Ho!” As Zun called out many of the crowd joined in. When he did the same again, “Ho!” everybody joined in and by the last “Ho!” everybody was joining in loudly and enthusiastically. The men being cheered were wearing broad smiles, proud and pleased at the accolade. The crowd began to gather around them in congratulation, enquiring for more details of what had happened.

  Zun dropped to the ground. Shushan bearing a wide smile bounced up but stopped dead as he said under his breath. “You little fool! What were you thinking, this is no game! You could have been killed back there.” Leaving Shushan standing with a shocked and hurt expression Zun made his way to Bulusi who was examining his wounded man.

  Laulun took Zun’s place at her daughter’s side, placing her hand on Shushan’s arm. She sighed in relief at seeing her daughter unhurt but Laulun’s eyes lingered with concern on Shushan’s sword still in her grip and its tip bloody. Shushan stamped her foot in frustration. “How dare he!? Why should I not take the same risks as the men, just because I am a woman? I am as well trained as any and the best sword after Zun.” she exclaimed angrily.

  Laulun sighed in frustration at her daughter. “Oh Shushan, is it really necessary for you to take such risks? Perhaps Zun worries for you, as I do.”

  Not pacified Shushan declared angrily. “He claims he does not wish to be our lord but throws orders out like snowflakes in a blizzard. Well I will never call him Lord, whatever he wants, and will continue to do as I think fit!” Shushan, flushed and angry, pulled her arm free but her anger evaporated as quickly as it had come. She gave her mother a sympathetic glance and a smile when she saw her worried look. “Do not worry so. He has taught me well and I am unharmed.”

  Though, any sympathy disappeared from Shushan’s face as she glared daggers at Zun’s back. Turning her own back to him as he reached Bulusi she smiled reassuringly at her mother, asking curiously, “Do you really believe he worries for me?” Laulun pulled her arm free before walking away in mock anger, shaking her head at her headstrong daughter as she went.

  Bulusi looked up with a sour expression when he saw it was Zun approaching. Ignoring the look Zun asked, “How is he?”

  Bulusi folded back the man’s jacket over a wad of folded cloth pressed against his wound, which was still seeping blood. “Better than you will be if you leave an angry woman behind you and it is you who has the last word.” Grunting at Zun’s frown Bulusi pushed to his feet and lost any sense of irony. “He took a sword stroke from their leader as he tried to stop them uncovering the wagons. It was his brother who gave that dog the whip across his face. The wound is above the hip and seems to have hit nothing vital. He’ll live.” Looking from under his eyebrows he added for Zun’s benefit, “My sons.”

  Zun placed his hand lightly on the wounded man’s shoulder as the young man smiled up apologetically. “Still, it is a wound and should be treated with respect until it is healed. I will see some of the women tend to it properly. In the meantime, you can all stay as our guests. You cannot travel far on foot with a man wounded like this.” Zun stood and walked off, feigning not to notice the foul expression Bulusi sent after him.

  Bulusi’s wounded son looked up at his father. “If we leave without the wagons what shall we do father. We will have nothing.”

  Bulusi was tight-lipped as he watched Zun walk away. “He neither wants nor expects us to leave. He believes we will stay to keep an eye on his debt to us. He wants us to work here and convert their stocks into new bows for him, as our best means of ensuring they will be able to pay what they owe.”

  “So will we stay then?”

  Bulusi winced in resignation. “Yes, we shall probably stay. I think this man may actually make a success of this place.” Looking across to the milling crowd where Zun was congratulating the smiling soldiers still flushed with their success, he cautioned. “Though, we will watch events carefully and keep one eye to a fast exit route should we need one.”

  Chapter 27

  Zanwen ordered the wagons to one side of the road to make way for the column of soldiers marching towards them from the other direction. Seeing the Guang standard he ordered the men down from the wagons for what had become a routine procedure over the last few months. The marching men eventually drew abreast of Zanwen’s waiting caravan and their commander called out to his sergeant. The sergeant called out to the men, who without breaking stride turned their heads to face Zanwen and his men striking their left hand to their right breast in a synchronised salute, which clashed out as they shouted in one voice “Ho!”

  There were five columns of a thousand men and the salute was both impressive and intimidating at close quarters. Zanwen’s men snapped to attention and returned the salute in kind. As the last of the soldiers filed past Zanwen made his way to Li Chin’s wagon. The military movements in the area were heavy, the conflict between the Great Houses of Guang, Tanyeu and Wah shifting across the landscape. Without fail, every time a Guang contingent went past they saluted Zanwen’s standard.

  On the first occasion a whole battalion of Guang soldiers had stopped and drawn their swords to strike them against their bucklers, before re-sheathing swords and marching on. Zanwen’s heart had nearly stopped, more than half expecting them to charge his caravan and slaughter them where they stood. Watching the departing Guang soldiers he had stood open-mouthed, trying to comprehend what had happened. Li Chin had smiled at him. “They honour you and your men. If you do not wish to insult them you had best be prepared to return the compliment next time.” Since then they had been prepared, returning the salute each time a contingent of Guang soldiers passed.

  Zanwen looked across to Li Chin. “My blood turns to ice every time they do that. I know you explained it but I still do not understand why a Great House makes such an issue of saluting a minor House, one that doesn’t even exist. Surely the elaborate display reminds everyone they lost a duel against an unknown House. Don’t they fear losing face at reminding everyone of such a humiliation?”

  Li Chin looked across curiously. “Did you think they looked humiliated, or that they had lost face as a result of their loss?”

  Zanwen snorted. “They are magnificent crack soldiers. Their power is obvious and they could crush us before breakfast.”

  Li Chin cocked his head to one side. “Then perhaps this salute brings everyone’s attention to the fact that whilst they lost a contest courage and honour are of more value to them than what was conceded because of the contest. The material loss made no difference to them and they honour your courage. As a result, everyone seeing them salute you subsequently honours them for their generosity to your low ranking House. Each time they do this it emphasises they could crush you but instead, for honour or a whim, they choose not to. I think the salute draws people’s attention to the strength of their Great House and generates significant goodwill towards them.” Li Chin added, “I have heard people talk of the salute and the honour that House Guang does you with it. In the people’s eyes you are the underdog who did well at House Guang’s cost but House Guang has chosen to remain honourable and salute your achievement, rather than kick you for besting them to steal a crumb from their table.”

  Li Chin raised an eyebrow at Zanwen in query. “You are a trader Zanwen. Tell me, would you be comfortable extending credit to such a House or would you be concerned they would use their superior strength to default on a debt they, for whatever reason, wished no longer to honour?” Li Chin smiled appreciatively. “They have done well to wrest advantage from an otherwise damaging loss.”

  Zanwen shook his head, still not entirely convinced even after so many months. Nevertheless, he had to admit he was starting to regard the Great House of Guang in a different w
ay than he had. Ordering the men back to the wagons they pulled back in to their place on the road again now it was clear, Zanwen mumbling under his breath about it generating too much attention for him and his activities.

  He had also been astonished when he had been approached by a number of factors representing House Guang who had wanted to arrange trade agreements with him. It seemed their courtesy extended beyond the salutes and he was suspicious of a hidden motive he remained unaware of. But as a result he was carrying so much in trade goods that he needed more guards and wagons to deal with the trade opportunities he was now being offered. It was all very strange.

  Over a hundred feet behind Zanwen’s caravan, obscured by the heavily laden carts of refugees and traders alike, Mading headed Zun’s previous command. They were in a sorry state and had seen hard times since leaving Zun for dead. Hiring their unit out as sellswords to the House of Wah at Sung-Lo, a river city in the Wing-Ho province, they had seen the town stormed by Guang forces. They had just managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. The Wah soldiers had stayed even after the walls had been overrun and the fighting had been brutal. But once the Guang soldiers had got past the city walls its fall had been quick.

  Their own unit led by Mading had escaped down river in a barge to the Wah House city of Sung-Hi. They were instantly taken on the city’s register as sellswords again. Only a couple of months later they had seen that city taken, the Wah soldiers overrun by Tanyeu soldiers this time with a similar story. This time Mading had ensured they were better prepared. He had a barge ready and closely watched by one of their men so when the walls were breached Mading lost no time in securing their exit. Their unit had managed to escape again but all this running was demoralising the men and Mading was thoroughly sick of it. They seemed to have been living on poor rations for as long as Mading could remember and he was getting increasingly despondent about finding a new billet and regular food for his command. Seeing the Guang soldiers march by well provisioned and in good form only increased his irritation.

  Zhi asked, “What do you think that’s all about Sergeant, the saluting like that?”

  Mading had been wondering the same thing. “Bunch of mutual arse licking by the look of it.” he replied. The Guang soldiers were well kitted out, looked experienced and were impressive. After they gave the salute it seemed to pump them with pride and emphasised their solidarity, a cohesive force to be reckoned with. Mading glanced across at his own men. Their kit was worn but serviceable, their uniforms reflecting the best condition they were able to maintain rather than just being left to ruin.

  The men were straightening their shoulders and dressing their lines without being told. He was relieved to see they still retained their own pride when faced with popinjays like these, despite the conspicuous absence of a House tabard. Mading gave a satisfied smile, distorted into a vicious smirk by the now hideously healed scars across his face. After their recent experiences he knew, by the Spirits, his men could fight! They had been involved in some fierce hand-to-hand combats over the last months and he had been proud of them. He had lost some men, mostly the weakest or least skilled, but the fighting had pulled them all together as a unit and given them their pride back. They had also picked up more strays with nowhere else to go. Despite their losses they were up to fifty and each of them had earned their wages. Mading insisted on arms practise daily and the benefits showed.

  Mading’s smile turned sour. It was a shame their employers hadn’t survived to pay them. Fifty mouths consumed a lot of food and it was expensive just holding off starvation. He carried the unit’s kitty, the remaining funds from House Yeu and what was left of the few coins and baubles they had snatched along the way.

  Mading frowned in irritation as he thought how it should be easier than it had been to find employment given all the fighting in the area. The trouble was the two warring Houses of Guang and Tanyeu both seemed to be doing well and relied on their own soldiers, while the Wah forces, which supposedly weren’t even in the conflict, kept losing. Mading had had enough of being on the losing side and it was clear House Wah had no strong leadership, their soldiers being overrun by an enemy in a war they didn’t appreciate they were in until it was too late. Mading was convinced they didn’t even realise their province was being targeted by the other two Houses, just because Houses Guang and Tanyeu kept declaring they were only intent on fighting each other! Mading swore under his breath at the idiocy of those in charge, who like turds in a sewer always seemed to rise to the top.

  When the Guang soldiers had moved past Mading got his men moving again into the displaced traffic vying for places in the freed up road. After the first bend another town came into sight and Mading started giving instructions for the men to camp outside while he and Zhi went in to try and find new employment.

  There was the usual grumbling but Mading didn’t want them getting into any trouble and as the men were all broke they couldn’t afford wine anyway. It was at times like this Mading missed their lieutenant the most. He was not comfortable leading the men, not like this as a genuine commander with no one to report up to. But the men all looked to him for leadership and would surely struggle without him to wipe their noses and keep them out of trouble. Mading spat viciously into the road, his mood turning sour again. He was a father that’s what he was. A bloody father to nearly fifty men! Then, thinking of the fifty women he would have had to have known to sire them, his mood lightened again.

  Mading and Zhi were killing time in a busy tavern, the pair of them nursing a drink and making it last for far longer than was proper for a decent soldier. Mading had enquired of the tavern’s host about prospects for hiring out their swords in the area. After a cursory glance their host had told them he might know of someone. If they waited he would pass the word. That had been over two hours ago. Mading was starting to get restless and he was building up to leaving.

  A large man in an elaborately tooled leather breast-guard sat down at their table, casually shifting the sword belted at his waist behind him as he did so. Though he may have been uninvited he did bring a jug of wine with him which he used to fill their nearly empty beakers, making him very welcome.

  As the stranger poured out the wine Mading looked him over. He was a dangerous man. That much was obvious from just looking at him. There were a number of scars on the breast plate and if he had been wearing it when they were received then he had also seen quite a bit of action. The man was regarding him with equal curiosity and Mading knew he would be looking at something similar, only Mading was bigger and with his scars looked a whole lot fiercer. Mading gave a small smile aware his facial scars would distort it, making him look even meaner. He was pleased at his sudden insight that the stranger wouldn’t like that. The stranger was big and no doubt wanted to remain the biggest and meanest warrior he knew.

  The stranger opened the conversation. “I have been asking around. You are Mading. Your company was holding a section of the wall at Sung-Lo when it fell. You held your unit together and fought your way clear to escape in one piece, mostly. You signed up with Sung-Hi. It also fell and you are here. So presumably it was a similar story.”

  Mading was impressed the stranger was able to find out so much about them in such a short time, though one could read their repeated escapes from lost battles more than one way. As Mading contemplated how knowledge of their regular defeats was hardly likely to encourage a new employer to take them on he wondered why the man had sat at their table having heard their story. That is, if he was the same man they were waiting for. “What of it?”

  The warrior smiled for the first time. “My name is Sheywen. I command two hundred men but have ambitions that require more.” He slipped an emperor, a silver coin that could buy food for a month for Mading and his men, across the table towards him. “Interested?”

  Mading looked up from the coin. “Maybe,” Mading gestured to the silver emperor sitting invitingly on the table, “I have fifty men. How many more of those will I see if I bring them over
to you?”

  Sheywen looked pleased. “For men of your calibre and experience another coin like this every week, with a share in the spoils when there are any.”

  Mading looked across at Sheywen. This didn’t feel like the usual recruitment process and he was conscious they may be about to cross some line, something it would be difficult to undo once he committed to it. “Doing what and where?” he asked cautiously.

  Sheywen frowned, obviously not wanting too many questions. “Something dangerous, which will pay well and in a place you never heard of. Your men report to you and you follow my orders. Are you in or out?”

  Mading shrugged, his growling stomach reminding him of how few options they had. “Then I guess we are in.” for the time being at least he added to himself, sweeping the coin off the table.

  Sheywen leaned back in his seat with a small smile. “We have a bargain then, a silver emperor a week and a share of the spoils, for which you and your men are mine.”

  Mading looked Sheywen in the eye as he replied. “An emperor a week, in advance, for which I will follow your orders; I and my men are yours, for as long as the silver keeps coming. We have a bargain.”

  Sheywen laughed. “You are a pragmatist and I like that, especially in my sub-commanders. Who is your strongest warrior?”

  Mading frowned not too surprised at the question. “I am.” He assumed Sheywen was the most accomplished warrior within his own command. If Mading had to guess he would say that Sheywen was a swordmaster, a graduate from one of the military academies tied to the various Great Houses. The academies were their main source of military commanders. If he were right Sheywen would be significantly more accomplished with the sword and in unarmed combat than he was himself.