BAF 64 - Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat, page 29
part #64 of Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series
Is Hailed as Rightful Lord of Tsun. The Capital Is Besieged and
an Unworthy Dissension Thereat Engendered
The history of Ching-kwei and the nature of his deeper thoughts, his spoken words, the omens cast about his path and the genealogy of each of those who rallied to his cause—these might perchance be fittingly set forth in nine-and-forty meritorious books, but though the finest paper and the smoothest ink were used, who should remain to read? Rather, in these later times of groundless stress, men would reach for their street attire, the one exclaiming as he went, “What befell this long-throated goatherd, story-teller?” and, “Impart a movement to thy tardy brush,” another.
Let it suffice, therefore, that for the space of moons Wang Tae had spoken of, the confederacy persisted in its righteous task, linking the members of its scattered force into a living bond, and sapping the power of Shang’s detested rule by various means. Then, when the fruit was ripe, the gatherers appeared, for in a single night they fell upon Hing-foo from every side and carried all its gates. Ching-kwei, seeing in the significance of the day a portent of success, led the assault and acquired much renown. All the more worthy of the citizens at once recognized in him the fulfilling of an ancient prophecy, and the city keys were laid before his feet “Not that their necessity exists in the case of one who wears a master key about his waist,” declared the spokesman of the band, “but Hing-foo has been taken and restored threescore and eighteen times in the history of its walls, and the polite formality has ever been observed.”
After the lukewarm and contentious had been humanely dealt with, the remainder of the populace settled down to existence as before, the unchanging motto of their city being: “Above Hing-foo are the heavens, on three sides of it the Shay, and on the fourth a ruler.”
At a later period, Ching-kwei was publicly enthroned in the Temple of the King and greeted with the royal salutation of, “Ten thousand years!” The execrated name of Shang was removed from every seal and record amid an outburst of tumultuous joy, it being proclaimed that all documents and obligations in which it had appeared should thenceforth be held as void. Having by these acts definitely cut off the path of their retreat, every person in the city was set to the task of repairing the shattered walls and mounting a sufficient guard.
Events in the meanwhile followed on Yew’s prescient course. Yung and Wen-yi converged as specified, and the former person brought a pacific face into Hing-foo and with him the stores and furnishing of all his force together with the staunchest of his men. On this foundation Wang Tae and Ching-kwei began to build the wedge that should drive the usurper ignominiously from his throne, for until he lost that last vestige of authority Ching-kwei might hold the handle of the sceptre but Shang still grasped the head. Across the intervening land, trustworthy spies were ever on the watch in suitable disguise, and no day passed without a message of encouragement being brought Sunk into a deeper lethargy, the effete Shang scarcely deigned to turn upon his marble couch to listen to each succeeding recital of disaster; by his side Shen Che rose to more unbridled heights of recklessness until, in despair at the inadequacy of her own desires, she caused slaves to shoot priceless jewels from hollow tubes against the stars; while at the palace gates men and women fought for the sweepings from the kennels, and in the Ways the changing prices of a he-child and of a she-child went from mouth to mouth. It was at this pass that Ching-kwei and Wang Tae launched their force against the Capital.
At the northern water-gate of Hing-foo, flatboats were drawn across by bamboo ropes, and in this way the army of the “Restoring Ying” moved out. As the different companies with their appointed chiefs passed across the river, a notched record of their strength was kept so that Wang Tae should have an exact knowledge of the various kinds of warriors under his control. Of iron-caps, armed with spears, there were as many thousand as could be counted upon the fingers of one hand; of bowmen, each with threescore crimson arrows in a sheath, the same; almost as many slingers with their gear; five chosen groups of fierce-voiced leapers clad in striped and spotted cloth to represent bloodthirsty creatures of the wild, and a suitable proportion of stalwart men equipped with horns and gongs. In addition, there were bannermen who waved insulting messages of scorn; firework throwers, of the kinds both loud and offensive to the smell; several stuffed animals propelled on wheels, and a full camp of diagram-men, whose secret craft it was to spread confusion by their mysterious artifice. Every warrior possessed a wooden bowl, a fan, and an umbrella, and many had also brought iron swords and leather shields. Stores and utensils of the necessary sort followed the army on two thousand wheelbarrows in charge of the elderly and weak. Many of the chief leaders rode small horses of a hardy build, and in front of all went a cloud of war-chariots filled with picked fighters of established valour. The omens had been duly sought, and nothing was wanting to assure success.
When this great army—which despite its vast extent moved with such precision that no part of it at any time completely lost sight of all the other—arrived before the Capital, the craven defenders at once retired behind its gates, nor could the most offensive taunts or gestures of the keenest provocation induce them to emerge. On the other hand, with weak-kneed lack of originality they stood upon the well-protected walls and by remarks of an objectionable personal nature endeavoured to lure passing members of the “Restoring
Ying” to come within their reach, but all Wang Tae’s troops were too highly disciplined to fall into the snare. Finding the defences stronger than it was prudent to assail, and despairing of the garrison ever having the refinement to come out and face a decision on equal terms, Wang Tae disposed his forces round about the city and proclaimed a siege.
Had the matter simply been left to its proper and foreshadowed course, the speedy subjection of the enemy could never have been in doubt. But it is truly said, “Even black may become unclean,” and the immediate conduct of the corrupt Wen-yi imparts a double-edge of penetration to the adage. This squalid-souled person has already been fittingly referred to, so that it is unnecessary to do more than record the actual happenings. Not being deemed worthy of the honour of pursuit, after his troops were scattered in dismay, it was assumed that he would be driven to the necessity of sustaining life by begging from door to door—an occupation logically suited to his low standard of attainment It must be inferred that Wen-yi had always played an insidious part, for, instead of acquiescing to a defeat that was final and complete, he treacherously began to get together his ignoble followers again, and even to induce other credulous and slow-witted outcasts to rally to his offensive cause. Working with the most unbecoming secrecy, and assembling in distant and misleading spots, he brought on his illiterate and deluded rabble by a series of one-sided marches until he was able suddenly to insert his contaminating presence between the army of the “Restoring Ying” and their essential city of Hing-foo.
Owing to this degraded act of perfidy, after several months of conscientious effort on everybody’s part, the position may be thus outlined: the defenders of the Capital were capable of resisting any onslaught but were powerless to emerge and free themselves from the encircling foe; the army of the “Restoring Ying” was safe within its camp but was not adequate to the task of entering the Capital or of reversing a position on which all its system had been based and turning round to engage the despised Wen-yi; the garrison of Hing-foo was sufficiently protected by the river from the menace of Wen-yi’s invasion but was itself too weak to march out and assist Wang Tae; and, finally, the decayed Wen-yi, having now exposed his feeble effort, was unable to move in any direction whatever.
But however badly arranged this unmentionable person’s despicable strategy had been toward a martial end, it had an outcome which that superficial one had never even thought of, and very few more days had passed before Wang Tae called an assembly of the inner chiefs together at the council tent.
“When Yu, the pike, lay upon the river floor waiting for a bird to fall into the stream, and Yen, the kestrel, sat up in a tree waiting for a fish to leap on to the bank, both went supperless to bed,” he began. “Hing-fop, from which we draw our daily sustenance, is now a thousand li beyond our reaching hand, and the case is thus and thus. Let any speak his mind.”
“Your words are ruled with accuracy,” agreed Ching-kwei, “but let there be no fear on that account. It is decreed that I shall most certainly destroy the usurping Shang and by the same act end the sway of his ignoble Line.”
“The fear to which reference has been made, imperishable,” interposed a discordant voice, “is not so much whether you will kill the vindictive Shang but whether in the meanwhile hunger will not kill us. What store of food is there yet remaining, chief?”
“Some threescore sacks of rice—sufficient beneath a frugal eye for three days more.”
“Here again destiny sets whatever qualms one has at rest, for the third day hence is the thirteenth of the month of Peach Blossom, and that is your imperishable’s lucky day,” declared Ching-kwei with confidence.
“Yet between now and the digging of our graves, what miracle will come to pass, omnipotence, unless we lay our elbow to the pole forthwith?” inquired another murmurer.
“What exact form our deliverance shall take will in due time appear, being doubtless revealed in the shape of a nocturnal vision,” replied Ching-kwei. “To pray for rain and then give water to the drooping vine is to deride the faces of the willing gods.”
“The celestial air you breathe, supremest, is too refined for the gross nourishment of those whom I command,” declared a third. “An empty bowl will come within their scope, but not the sustaining approbation of the unseen powers.”
“Peace—enough!” exclaimed Wang Tae, being in a double mind himself but fearing an open rift. “Words make a deeper scar than silence can always heal. Let all consider well our present state until we meet again at a like hour to-morrow. Then when each one has contributed the weight of his deliberate word unto the common cause, we will blend the accumulated wisdom into the weapon best suited to our need. In the interval, let mutual harmony prevail, for, remember: ’Fire spreads of its own accord, but every jar of water must be carried.’”
VII
The Nature of the Stratagem Discovered to Ching-kwei, and
the Measure of Its Success. His Meeting with One Whom
He Had Thought to Be Queen of Tsun and the Rearrangement
of the Destinies That Then Ensued. His Return and the Greetings Passed
That night Ching-kwei fasted and made sacrifice to the full extent of all he had, and having thereby purified his mind into harmony with the protecting influences around, he composed himself into a tranquil state to await their guidance. At dawn he sought out Wang Tae before that quick-moving person left his tent.
“In the past, Wang Tae,” he said, when they had greeted formally, “we have reposed an unshaken trust in one another, and in the clash of battle my defending sword has struck out from underneath your weary arm, and your protecting shield has been held before my bleeding face.”
“It is true,” replied Wang Tae with dignified emotion, “and the confidence that I still maintain in you is that of two men who walk along a narrow plank together at some great and rocky height. With me, at least, speak the first words as they rise upon your lips.”
“You are the front and authority of all our force, while in me resides the Immortal Principle. What, therefore, we two cannot do, shall the discording voices of a score attain?”
“I am with you in this also,” replied Wang Tae. “Should you demand an attack upon the Capital, I will myself drive the first wedge into its gate.”
“Our united mind could split a granite rock!” cried Ching-kwei joyfully. “But a less hazardous way has been revealed to me, as I indeed proclaimed. Is the extremity of our strait known beyond the camp?”
“Spies from both sides pass in and out as usual on one plea or another, nor, hitherto, has it been well to conceal our obvious strength. Now, this weakness also has inevitably been carried to the councils of both Wen-yi and Shang.”
“Let there be no uncertainty upon’ that head. Instruct a judicious captain of your own to conduct the spies all round our bankrupt store. At the same time, let every warrior in the camp begin openly to furbish up his arms, to sing of victory, and to create a general stir. This, to the spies, the various chiefs shall briefly indicate, with, ’Thus,’ and ‘Haply,’ or, ‘I might, if yet I would-,’ but nothing more.”
“It shall be done,” replied Wang Tae. “Before another gong-stroke sounds, a tincture such as you desire shall colour their reports.”
“Once they have left the camp, there must be no return. Appoint a double line of sentinels and instruct them to use even force if necessary.”
“That, at any rate, will convince the spies that something unusual is in progress.”
“All shapes around that end. To-night a letter must be sent toward Hing-foo. This is its purport:
“Illustrious Wang Tae to the Ever-alert Martial Governor of Loyal Hing-foo, Greeting:
Our need is great, our stock being now but twoscore bags of mouldy rice. In the mists of to-morrow’s dawn we attack the Capital, having learned of vast hoards of grain and richer food of every kind secretly stored within the palace there. If at the same time we can tempt out the ill-made Wen-yi, assail his rear with all your force. He is very credulous and may enter the snare.”
“The scheme might be well enough,” remarked Wang Tae, “but it is doubtful if our messenger can pass through Wen-yi’s line and reach Hing-foo.”
“To make sure of that miscarriage, send the worst we have—in fact, two had better go on separate ways: even the obese Wen-yi can scarcely miss both. How next shall a similar implication be contrived to fall into Shang’s unruly hand?”
“I begin to smell the gravy of your pig,” exclaimed Wang Tae with deepening interest. “There was a discontented eunuch Of the palace guard who at first conspired with us, and messages have passed, but now the rumour goes that, one being dropped incautiously out of his sleeve, he has been charged and strongly pressed to tell everything he knows.”
“His name will serve. In this case it will run:
“ ’To-?’”
“Tsan, of the Third Green Banner displaying Righteous Truth,” contributed Wang Tae.
“—From one whom he has knowledge of, greeting,” went on Ching-kwei, continuing to write:
“Our need is great, our stock being now but twoscore bags of mouldy rice. In the mists of to-morrow’s dawn we attack Wen-yi, having learned that his camp contains vast stores of gain. Hing-foo will sally and assail his rear so that we shall have no lack of men. A snare has been contrived to take the ill-made Shang and all his force, if he can but be tempted out at the sound of conflict. Urge him to this, and you and your well-born descendants in perpetuity shall be entitled—”
“Eminence!” interposed Wang Tae hastily, “the one in question is—”
’True.
“—you and your illustrious ancestors in retrogression shall he entitled to an open green silk umbrella with yellow tassels on all state occasions. He is very credulous and may enter the snare.”
“Seal it with your special sign, Wang Tae, and dispatch ^ it by a thoroughly unworthy hand.”
“Whom, further, I will omit to recompense. It shall reach Shang’s council without fail. This scheme of yours, Ching-kwei, whatever the final shape, has a meatiness about its bones that stirs my appetite.”
“When the camp is free of all whom we distrust, about the hour of dusk, let twoscore chariots be emptied of their gear and drawn in secret to a hidden dell. To each pair appoint a tent of trusty men, some carrying digging tools, the others bearing for each car a sack of rice. The rest will soon unfold itself before your eyes, Wang Tae, but of this be well assured: the grain that we throw upon the earth to-night will bear a speedy crop and that a hundredfold.”
Is there a single one, aspiring to a polished style to-day, who has not heard or even used the phrase: “Like Wang Tae’s rice—a little on the top?” Yet lie who has followed these commonplace words so far and put up with their painful lack of finish need not be told that the whole scheme and strategy devolved upon Ching-kwei. Who should then erect a public arch, or compose a written book, or even found a dynasty, if in a few thousand years his labour is thus to be accorded to another? Certainly it was not so in the glorious days of Yaou and Shun.
But in order to bring this badly told narration even to an unpretentious close it is necessary to uphold the sequence of events and to state what followed after. That is the present way, and, as the saying goes, “If you would dine with dragons you must not stay to chew the meat.”
On the succeeding day, before the hour of dawn, both the hosts of Shang and Wen-yi became aware of something very violent taking place elsewhere. In the obscure distance a noise composed of every variety of martial strain, shout, roar, boom, blast, shriek, firework, rattle, imprecation, thud, musical instrument, and explosion grew and died down as it came across the intervening space at intervals, while fires at different points began to show and a great cloak of pungent smoke darkened the rising sun and shut out all the further details of the inauspicious scene. It was plain to each that the other was being vigorously attacked, while a demonstration in the nature of a feint was carried out against himself, but having been warned by intercepted messages, neither fell into the snare but lay behind his own defensive walls or lines and watched.
When the battle had been in progress for a sufficiently convincing time, a combined shout of victory rent the air, and soon everywhere signs of rejoicing could be seen and heard. Shang and Wen-yi strove to pierce the veil of uncertainty surrounding them, to learn if haply any remnant of their ally stood, but the distance and the glow of fire and the drifting smoke conspired to baffle the most discerning eye, and presently each had a more convincing sign of the other’s overthrow than all that went before. Winding through Wang Tae’s camp, on its way to some secure place of storage, came a long and noble train of chariots, each one full and well heaped up with shining rice. Four well-trained horses went to the ropes of every car, with two henchmen at either wheel and four to follow after, so weighty was the load, and as they moved at certain parts more at their ease, the men laughed and frolicked and threw rice by the handful at each other in wanton joy to see so much. Forty such chariots there were in sight at once, and then, after a pause, a score more, and then another score, and a little later a second forty as before. Wen-yi first saw the offensive sight and knew the worst, and after him in turn the abject Shang and all his court, for Ching-kwei’s rice-train wound in and out among the camp for half a day.
