Undercurrents and a Desperate Gamble
On the fifth day of the Tiger Tribe's attack on the Valley Tribe's main camp, the sun rose as usual, seemingly indifferent to what was happening on this land. The morning light spread from behind the western ridgeline, first illuminating the tops of the newly repaired wooden stakes at the highest point of the Valley Tribe's camp wall, then slowly sliding down the planks, revealing the cracked wall panels and the dark marks at the base of the walls. The bloodstains at the base of the walls had been covered by a layer of sand, but their color was still darker than the surrounding ground, with dark brown edges, like wounds on the earth that had not yet healed.
The soldiers on guard duty on the camp wall had changed shifts. The newly arrived archer leaned his bow against the wooden battlement, squatted down, and rubbed his knees, which were stiff from keeping watch all night. He pressed his knuckles firmly on his kneecaps twice before straightening up. He then stretched his shoulders, rotating them a few times. His gaze fell on the enemy positions still lined up outside the wall, lingered for a moment, and then turned to look at the person next to him. The person next to him was leaning against the edge of the battlement, his eyes half-closed. Hearing the noise, he opened his eyes, nodded slightly, and did not speak.
In the Wolf Tribe camp outside the north gate, Yexiao lifted the tent flap and walked in. The wind whipped his clothes around him as he stood before Xueya, rubbing the tips of his boots on the dry mud inside the tent as if to leave the excess mud outside. Then he spoke, his voice lowered, "Chief, the Valley Tribe's main camp is really tough. We've been attacking for five days and haven't taken it. Judging from their posture, the Valley Tribe is determined to resist to the end. The troop rotation on the walls hasn't been disrupted yet, and they still have arrows. It doesn't look like they're about to collapse."
Xueya sat on a low couch made of hay and animal hides, holding a bowl of water that had gone cold. The rim of the bowl touched his lips, but he didn't drink. His lips lingered on the rim for a moment before moving away. He didn't look at Yexiao; his gaze was fixed on the gap in the tent flap that was exposed when the wind blew.
Through the crack, one could see several horses outside the camp, heads bowed, grazing on the grass roots, their tails occasionally flicking to shoo away flying insects. After a while, he spoke, his voice neither loud nor soft, as if he had just considered it carefully. "The Valley Tribe warriors are quite strong. You can tell they're well-trained from the first exchange, unlike the able-bodied men of those smaller tribes. Although their numbers are similar to ours, their rotations on the walls are methodical, their arrows are accurate, they're not panicked, and they can still fight. These past few days, we've only made token attacks, not really fighting desperately, so our losses are much smaller than before. On the other hand, the Bear Tribe has been attacking fiercely from the beginning, suffering far greater losses than our Wolf Tribe. They're sending wave after wave of men up the ramp, ladders have collapsed one after another, and we've replaced the battering rams three times, but we still haven't broken through."
His voice lowered further. "Our grudge against the Valley Tribe was settled after we captured their Little Valley Camp Outpost. We also vented our anger at being driven out back then. The Valley Tribe's main camp is well-defended and puts up a fierce resistance. There's no need for us to waste a large number of the Wolf Tribe's manpower here and squander our already limited resources."
He stood up, the dry straw on the low platform rustling softly as he rose. He walked to the tent entrance, lifted the curtain, and looked towards the Valley Tribe's camp wall for a moment. He didn't speak, just stood there, his gaze slowly moving from the top of the wall to the camp gate. He lowered the curtain and turned back, his voice calmer than before. "Even if we take it, the supplies inside won't be much for our Wolf Tribe. The Tiger Tribe is the strongest, and they've been watching us fight desperately from behind. How can there be such a good thing? Their troops haven't moved, they haven't fired many arrows, and their ships have been docked at the pier. If it weren't for their overwhelming strength, I would have led my men back long ago. Now we just need to put on a show for them. We've been attacking for five days straight, and the Valley Tribe's camp doesn't look like it's about to fall. I'm getting more and more uneasy."
Yexiao chimed in, "Chief, are you worried about the Fire Tribe? Do you think they're almost here?"
Xueya said, "That's right, the Fire Tribe has risen too quickly, and their methods are sophisticated. We've suffered several heavy losses at their hands before. Now that we've been fighting here for so long, I suspect they'll be here soon. It's best to be careful and make more preparations. Go and arrange for the warriors to take turns resting, instead of all of them staying on the front lines. Just leave a small group of people on night watch."
Yexiao Owl stood up, paused at the tent entrance, turned his head and said, "Don't worry, Chief, I'll make the arrangements right away. I'll talk to the brothers and let them know what's going on. I'll make sure their torches are lit and that people are on the move."
He turned and walked out of the tent. The curtain fell behind him, bringing in a brief morning breeze before silence returned. Xueya's gaze fell on the now-cold bowl of water in front of him. He didn't pick it up, but just stared at the dried water stain on the rim.
The atmosphere in the Bear Tribe camp outside the south gate was much heavier than in the north. Almost no one moved between the tents, and even those who did walked slowly. Xiong Chi stood before Xiong Lie, his face bearing the ashen complexion of someone who hadn't slept well for days. Dark shadows etched beneath his eyes, and his lips were cracked and dry. A coarse linen bandage was wrapped around his left shoulder, the knot at the edge soaked in blood and dried a dark brown. His voice was strained as he spoke, as if squeezing words from his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly with each word. "Chief, today is the fifth day of our attack on the Valley Tribe's main camp. We've suffered heavy losses these past few days. Of the approximately three thousand warriors who crossed the river, only about fifteen hundred remain—half of our men. Of the remaining thousand, several hundred are seriously wounded, and nearly a thousand are lightly wounded. Now, almost everyone is injured."
He gently pressed his hand against the bandage on his left shoulder, as if unconsciously checking if the wound was still there. His fingertip slightly recoiled when it touched the dry, hard, dark brown scab, then he let go.
Xiong Lie's eyes were red, not from crying, but from not getting enough sleep for several days and having kept his eyes glued to the battle. Several thin red veins ran across the whites of his eyes, and his eyelids blinked slowly, as if it took considerable effort to open them again. His voice was hoarse as he said, "You think I don't know? You think I'm not heartbroken? These are the elite of our Bear Tribe, built up little by little. Half of them have been training since I took over as chief; they've been with me for many years."
He stood up, walked a few steps inside the tent (which wasn't large), and bumped into the other side of the tent wall after a few steps. He turned back and continued, "But we've already formed a blood feud with the Valley Tribe Valley Tribe. If we don't take this opportunity to wipe them out, they'll reclaim the Little Valley Camp Outpost we've captured. And once the Valley Tribe recovers, they won't let us off the hook. You and I have heard what Daiyan said while he was locked in the enclosure after the Little Valley Camp was lost. Our only option now is to take advantage of the Fire Tribe's reinforcements before they arrive and cooperate with the Tiger Tribe to capture the Valley Tribe's main camp. Only then can we focus all our efforts on dealing with the Fire Tribe. We've already blocked our own escape route; retreating means total annihilation."
Xiong Chi lowered his head, noticing several boot marks on the muddy ground. He remained silent for a moment before raising his head again, his voice less hesitant than before, but still carrying the strain of being pushed along. "But the Tiger Tribe hasn't made a move yet. Their troops haven't moved an inch. The Wolf Tribe has also started to just go through the motions, their attacks becoming increasingly perfunctory. Our Bear Tribe has suffered the greatest losses, and with our current forces, we don't have the strength to take down the Valley Tribe's main camp on our own. Even if we fight for another five days, we still won't be able to."
Xiong Lie gritted his teeth and said, "Isn't there still a thousand men left at the Little Valley Camp Outpost? Tonight, we'll bring the few hundred most seriously injured men from here to the Little Valley Camp Outpost so they can guard the camp and recuperate. We'll relieve those thousand men there. The Tiger Tribe will send a boat to assist us."
Xiong Lie's gaze lingered on Xiong Chi's face for a moment. He raised his right hand and touched the stubble on his chin that he hadn't shaved for days, his fingertips slowly gliding over the rough skin. Then he lowered his hand, his voice slightly calmer than before, and said, "The Tiger Tribe's 7,000 reinforcements will arrive at Little Valley Camp tonight. Once they arrive, they will definitely launch a general offensive very soon."
He turned around, looking out of the tent, his voice tightening slightly. "As for the Wolf Tribe's petty tricks, the Tiger Tribe has seen them. After this battle, the Tiger Tribe will deal with them. I've met Tong Dachui a few times; he's not the kind of person who would pretend not to see. Let him make the arrangements. Send the wounded away tonight and bring over the thousand men from the other side."
Xiong Chi nodded, turned and walked out of the tent to make arrangements.
As dusk slowly descended upon the Valley Tribe's main camp, the wounded were gathered in several makeshift wooden huts on the open ground inside the camp walls. Dry grass covered the floors, and people sat or lay on it. Some leaned against the wall with their eyes closed, breathing shallowly, their chests barely rising and falling; others looked down at their bandaged arms, their fingers fiddling with the edges of the bandages; still others spoke softly to those beside them, their voices low, as if exchanging a message reserved only for the wounded. Outside, several people were boiling water; steam rose from the earthenware pots, white vapors rising in the twilight and dissipating in the wind. Someone was putting washed strips of hemp cloth into the water to boil, then using a stick to lift them out and hang them on a rope to dry, the cloths swaying gently in the breeze.
Daiyue stood under the watchtower in the center of the camp, listening to Fengren report the day's casualty figures. He didn't speak, just listened, his gaze falling on a row of figures marching in formation not far away—it was a team led by Qingsui.
Over the past five days, the able-bodied young women of the Valley Tribe spontaneously organized themselves, forming a female soldier force of three thousand women led by Qingsui. They wore various kinds of clothing; some wore short hemp robes, some wore dark long gowns, and some even wore coarse cloth garments only worn for work, with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, revealing their strong forearms. They had ropes or cloth belts tied around their waists and carried spears or short knives. Their formation was initially somewhat loose, with someone stepping on the heel of the person in front after a few steps, but by the evening of the fifth day, the small ranks had been able to maintain a basic level of relative order.
Daiyue watched for a while before turning his gaze away and asking Fengren, "Are they armed enough?"
Fengren followed his gaze for a while, as if counting the types of weapons held by the troops. "Yesterday, Leader Qingsui led her men to search through the warehouse, finding and distributing all the old weapons that had been replaced. If there weren't enough spears, they used sharpened wooden shafts; if there weren't enough short knives, they used Chai Dao and sickles. At least everyone had one. This afternoon, she led her men to search through the pile of old bronzeware behind the warehouse, picking out the usable ones and re-sharpening them."
Daiyue nodded without saying much. He turned and walked towards Qingsui. When he reached the vicinity of the team, he didn't interrupt the training. He stood a few steps away and watched for a while. Qingsui was standing at the front of the team, holding a wooden pole, leading the team in practicing thrusting movements. Her movements weren't perfect, but they were crisp and clean, and she put all her strength into each strike. When she shouted the commands, her voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for all three rows to hear. Sweat slid down her forehead, glistening in the twilight. She saw her father standing beside her, but she didn't stop. She continued to direct the team until they finished that set of movements before letting them rest. She then walked towards Daiyue, switching the wooden pole to her left hand as she approached, her right hand hanging at her side.
As she approached, Daiyue noticed a fresh red scratch on the back of her right hand, running from the base of her index finger to her wrist, as if it had been grazed by a sharp edge. He spoke softly, as if asking a casual question in a normal tone, "What happened to your hand?"
Qingsui glanced down at the back of her hand, as if only just noticing the mark. "I wiped it when I was moving wood today. There were a few old logs piled up behind the warehouse with burrs on the surface, and I didn't have time to plane them smooth. I just brushed against them while moving them, it's nothing."
Daiyue didn't press further. He remained silent for a moment before asking, "How much longer do you think our camp can hold out?"
Qingsui's gaze fell on the outlines of the enemy camps beyond the distant wall. Dusk was blending the tent peaks and the faint light of the torches into a blurry darkness. She didn't answer immediately, her gaze lingering on the outlines for a moment before turning to her father. Her voice was low but firm as she said, "I don't know, but we can hold on. My best people can climb the wall. They're not afraid, they're just not quite there yet."
Daiyue remained silent, as did Qingsui. The two stood facing each other for a while, as dusk flowed past them, gradually dimming the light around them. A few short commands and footsteps echoed from the distance of the camp, as if something was being rearranged. The wooden pole in Qingsui's hand twirled slightly in her palm before stopping.
After it was completely dark, the boat, with the assistance of the Tiger Tribe's vessels, indeed reached the shore. The night was deep, and the moon was mostly obscured by clouds, with only a few rays of moonlight occasionally piercing through the gaps to illuminate the water. The boat approached the dark riverbank, its oars moving slowly, producing only a slight splashing sound as the blades entered the water, and a soft rustling sound as the hull scraped against the gravel in the shallows. Hundreds of wounded soldiers were helped from the direction of the Bear Tribe's camp to the shore, and the boat carried them through the night, heading towards the Little Valley Camp Outpost on the opposite bank of the river.
On the dock across the river, about a thousand warriors from the Bear Tribe were waiting to be relieved. They stood in the shadows by the dock, silent except for the occasional sound of boots on the planks and whispered commands. They had been waiting for some time. Seeing the boat dock, a group of them began to walk onto the boat along the gangplank, their movements swift and efficient. The boat swayed slightly as they boarded, carrying them back along the west bank. The figures standing on the gunwale were indistinct in the night, but the sounds of boots on the planks and whispered commands could be heard. These commands were short and restrained, delivered only after long intervals.
On the Wolf Tribe's side, Xueya saw the Bear Tribe and Tiger Tribe ' boats shuttling back and forth on the river in the twilight. He stood at the door of his tent and watched for a while, his gaze following the direction in which the boats moved in the night, from the east bank to the west bank and back again. After watching for a while, he lowered his hand, turned around and went into the tent.