A Great Haul
As dawn broke, Xiong Pan of the Bear Tribe stood atop the highest point of the northern watchtower. He had been standing there for some time; the shallow imprints of his boots remained on the wooden planks beside him, overlapping as he walked back and forth, as if he had walked in circles on these planks many times. Today he wore a dark gray linen robe, the collar loose and untied, with a wide leather belt around his waist, from which hung a short knife. His hair was not combed properly, a few stray strands hanging down from his ears, swaying slightly in the morning breeze, occasionally brushing against his cheekbones, but he did not raise his hand to brush them away. He had been standing there all morning; the wooden planks beside him had been worn smooth by the soles of his boots, his gaze fixed on the bend in the river in the distance.
A dozen days ago, his father, Xiong Lie, led most of the tribe's elite troops on an expedition. The troops left in an orderly fashion, but the first to return were not his father. Instead, it was the Tiger Tribe's navy that sailed swiftly downstream with their sails billowing in the wind. They barely stopped and passed right by the Bear Tribe's dock. The fleet passed by quickly, much faster than normal sailing.
In the afternoon, the Tiger Tribe's army passed by on land again. The column was much shorter than when they set out. Those at the front had their heads down, weapons slung across their shoulders, and their leather armor still bore traces of mud and blood that hadn't been wiped off. The blood had dried to a dark brown, forming irregular dark patches on the cloth. No one spoke in the column. The sound of the horses' hooves hitting the ground was more chaotic than a normal march, carrying a hurried, arrhythmic disarray. They walked quickly, almost at a trot, and the column stretched out, with those at the back occasionally glancing back at the way they had come, as if to make sure the pursuers hadn't caught up yet.
From the camp wall, Xiong Pan could clearly see that the Tiger Tribe's forces were more than half the size of those who had set out on the expedition. He silently counted the number of people passing by, and with each person he counted, the tension in his heart tightened. When the last Tiger Tribe warrior walked past the camp gate and disappeared around the bend at the end of the dirt road, he still stood there without moving, his gaze following the trail of dust for a long time.
He waited on the watchtower for more than an hour. Finally, a group appeared on the dirt road in the distance. Their figures were long and thin in the afternoon light as they slowly moved towards the Bear Tribe camp. When Xiong Pan first saw them, his heart skipped a beat. He unconsciously raised his hand holding the wooden railing, but he quickly realized that it was not the Bear Tribe's flag. When the flag was unfurled in the wind, he saw a wolf's head pattern. It was the Wolf Tribe.
Xueya led his troops to a stop not far from the entrance of the Bear Tribe camp. He had only brought about five hundred men, who looked much like the remnants of the Tiger Tribe —their weapons and leather armor were worn out, their horses' Zongmao were covered in dry mud and bits of grass, and some of the horses walked with a limp, as if they had injured their hooves. The troops stopped at the camp entrance, neither advancing nor retreating.
When Xiong Pan saw the Wolf Tribe's troops from the camp wall, he felt a slight sense of relief. The Wolf Tribe was also a subordinate tribe of the Tiger Tribe. Although they didn't have a deep relationship with their Bear Tribe, they weren't enemies. At a time when everyone was suffering defeats, seeing the face of an ally was always reassuring. His shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned around and quickly walked down from the watchtower. His boots thumped on the wooden steps, and his pace was faster than usual.
The camp gate opened a crack, Xiong Pan stepped out, standing on the open ground outside. His gaze swept across a few steps to Xueya, his voice filled with barely suppressed urgency. "Chief Xueya, how is the situation this time? The Tiger Tribe people just passed by here today without stopping, not even docking at the pier—have they encountered some trouble?"
Xueya dismounted, his landing deliberate and Chenwen. His boots swayed slightly as they touched the muddy ground, as if his legs were weak from a long journey, but he quickly regained his footing and took two steps forward. His face bore a weary and heavy expression, his eyelids half-closed, as if he hadn't slept a full night in days. His voice was low and hoarse, as if his throat was parched. "We suffered a major defeat at the front. Initially, we were doing well, quickly capturing the Valley Tribe's Little Valley Camp Outpost. But when your father and his men attacked the Valley Tribe's main camp, the Fire Tribe suddenly arrived."
He paused, as if letting the weight of his words settle, or as if he needed to catch his breath. "The Fire Tribe has sent over seventy giant ships, each with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin, and more than seven thousand cavalry. Their fleet filled the entire river, and as soon as they arrived, they scattered the Tiger Tribe's navy. We couldn't hold them off at all. The Tiger Tribe has lost more than half of its manpower, and our Wolf Tribe is left with only a few hundred people."
Xiong Pan's breathing quickened noticeably; his chest heaved as if he were trying to suppress something rising within him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white, then relaxed. "And my father? How are the warriors of our Bear Tribe?"
Xueya lowered his gaze slightly, as if searching for the right angle to speak. His eyes lingered for a moment on the ground about a foot in front of Xiong Pan's boots. "Your tribe has also suffered heavy losses this time. Your father is still surrounded by the Fire Tribe, with about a few hundred people around him. If we don't send someone to rescue him soon, it may be too late."
Xiong Pan took a step forward, his boots kicking up a small cloud of dust as they stomped on the dry mud. His voice rose slightly, as if unaware that he was raising his voice. "How many troops does the Fire Tribe have? How much longer can my father hold out?"
Xueya raised his head, his gaze lingering on Xiong Pan's face for a moment, as if to confirm that he completely believed those words. He lowered his voice, as if trying to force what he was about to say into Xiong Pan's ears, "Your father should still have a few hundred men with him. The Fire Tribe only had about a thousand chasing after them, not many. If you go now, you might still be able to rescue your father. If you want to go, I'll have Yexiao lead the way for you."
Xiong Pan didn't hesitate for long. He turned around and shouted into the camp, his voice echoing across the empty space. "Gather 1,200 cavalry and come with me to rescue them!" Then he turned back, looking at the demoralized soldiers behind Xueya, his voice filled with barely suppressed gratitude. "Thank you, Chief Xueya. You soldiers must be tired. Go to the camp and rest. I'll have someone prepare hot food and lodging for you to rest."
Xueya didn't refuse. He raised his hand behind him, pausing for a moment before lowering it. The five hundred remaining soldiers then began to slowly move towards the camp gate. Their movements were slow, as if they were truly too exhausted to walk any further. Some of them glanced up at the sentries on the camp wall as they passed the gate, their gaze lingering on their faces for a moment before shifting away, then lowering their heads and continuing on their way. Xiong Pan stood beside them, watching them enter the camp one by one. He then turned and shouted a few words to the cavalry who were gathering in the camp, urging them to hurry. His voice carried a sharp edge, strained by the urgency of the situation.
About an incense stick's time later, Xiong Pan led 1,200 cavalrymen out of the south gate of the camp. The sound of hooves kicked up a cloud of dust on the dirt road, which looked like a swirling gray-yellow ribbon in the afternoon sun. The dust rose into the air and was then dispersed by the wind, stretching into a long, thin tail along the direction of the column. Yexiao rode alongside the column, his posture slightly forward as if he were identifying the road ahead. Occasionally, he would turn his head to glance in a certain direction before turning back. They quickly rounded a low embankment and disappeared behind the bend in the dirt road.
Xueya stood on the open ground of the Bear Tribe, watching Xiong Pan's figure disappear into the dust. His gaze followed the receding dust until it completely dissipated before slowly returning to his face. The tired and heavy expression on his face seemed to have been wiped away with a hand, replaced by a cold, focused intensity. He turned around and made a short gesture to the Wolf Tribe warriors who were spreading out in the camp—he raised his right hand from his side, palm down, and pressed it down sharply.
The five hundred Wolf Tribe warriors moved almost simultaneously. Some, who had been squatting on the ground pretending to rest, immediately stood up upon seeing the gesture and ran quickly towards the camp gate. Others, who had been sitting against the wall, put down their empty bowls and rushed towards the wooden hut where weapons were stored. Some squatted down and lifted the old burlap covering the horse's back—beneath it weren't sacks of grain, but rolled-up bows and arrows and short swords. Before the sentries on both sides of the camp gate could react, they were already pinned down by those approaching from behind. Some were gagged and dragged off the watchtower, while others were struck on the back of the head with the hilt of a sword, falling to the wooden planks with a dull thud. Two Wolf Tribe warriors pulled out the wooden bar of the camp gate, which fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and the gate swung open, revealing the empty dirt road outside.
The sound of the bull horn rang out, short and resonant, carrying far. The main force of the Wolf Tribe, concealed behind the woods and earthen mounds surrounding the camp, moved almost instantly. Fifteen hundred cavalrymen surged forth from different directions, seemingly growing out of the ground. Their hooves pounded the cracked earth, raising clouds of dust that rose into the air, forming parallel columns of grayish-yellow smoke. Without pausing, the cavalry charged directly towards the entrances to the Bear Tribe camp. The riders lowered their bodies, nocked their bows, and fired as they approached the camp walls. As the arrows were fired, the eight hundred warriors left behind by the Bear Tribe were stunned by the sudden attack. Some were still lying in their tents when they heard the horn and peeked out. They saw a troop of cavalry charging towards them and retreated back into their tents before they could react. Others were squatting by the well in the center of the camp drawing water. The rope in their hands came loose as they lifted the bucket halfway up, and the bucket fell back into the well with a dull thud. Some had just reached the weapon rack and reached for the hilt of their swords, but before they could even grasp them, they were cut down by the charging Wolf Tribe cavalry.
The battle ended in a very short time. The eight hundred warriors were either cut down and disarmed or driven into the fenced area in the corner of the camp. No one was able to run out to report the news, as all exits to the outside world were blocked by the Wolf Tribe's cavalry.
Xueya stood in the center of the camp, watching the soldiers bustling about. Some were closing the camp gates again, putting the wooden bar back into the slots and pressing it down to make sure it was secure. Others were squatting on the ground inside the gate, digging pits and setting up tripwires with sharpened stakes and ropes. The traps were well hidden; without a closer look, one would only think they were miscellaneous items piled up inside the gate. Several deep ditches had also been dug on the dirt road outside the south gate, their openings covered with mud. A layer of fine sand had been sprinkled on the newly leveled soil to try and conceal the digging marks, but the soil at the edges still showed a subtle difference in color from the surrounding area; that layer of topsoil appeared slightly lighter than the surrounding soil in the slanting afternoon sunlight.
As the sun began to set, dust rose again at the end of the dirt road. Xiong Pan returned with his 1,200 cavalrymen. They had run for some distance before Yexiao seized the opportunity to escape. They hadn't found Ren He's trapped father, nor had they seen the Fire Tribe's pursuers. When they returned, the formation was much more scattered than when they set out, and the men were much more exhausted. When they saw the south gate of the Bear Tribe camp wide open, with flames raging inside, Xiong Pan's eyes reddened. He didn't stop his horse, nor did he order a formation. He drew his short sword from his waist, the blade reflecting a brief flash of light in the setting sun. He raised it above his head, his voice hoarse with the strain of being pushed to the limit. "Charge in! Take back the camp!"
Twelve hundred cavalrymen followed him, surging towards the camp gate. The moment the vanguard charged through, their horses' hooves sank into a deep ditch covered in dry grass. The horses' forelegs sank into the ditch, emitting short neighs. The riders tumbled from their backs, their bodies spinning in the air before landing in front of the hooves of the horses behind them. The horses behind them couldn't avoid it in time and trampled them. The rider's voice was compressed into a short shout amidst the crowd and the sound of hooves, then drowned out by the cacophony. The tripwires tightened as the second rank of cavalry passed, tripping several horses simultaneously. The horses' bodies turned sideways, blocking the path behind them. Riders fell to the ground; some were pinned down by their horses, others rolled to the ground and tried to get up, but were scattered by the surging riders and horses behind them. The entire vanguard was like a raging torrent. An unseen hand yanked the ground violently, sending men and horses tumbling. Dust and shouts mingled and exploded in the space inside the camp gate. People continued to surge forward, horses trampling on fallen comrades. Spears and shields fell in the throng, landing on the ground and being trampled, their deformed edges scraping the ground with a piercing screeching sound. In the shoving, someone trying to protect their short sword was pushed forward a few steps by the crowd behind them. The scabbard tore at the joint of a nearby cavalryman's armor plate, the leather strap snapped, and the armor plate scattered with a clatter at his feet. The horse, leaning forward, stepped on one of the scattered armor plates, its hoof scraping against the metal edge, sending up a cluster of sparks and dirt that landed in the middle of the still-moving ranks and quickly extinguished in the rising dust.
Xueya stood on a high point on the inner side of the camp, a bowstring taut in his hand. His gaze swept over the chaotic crowd, landing on the cavalrymen trapped inside the camp gate. He nodded to those behind him, silent, only his chin twitching slightly. Wolf Tribe archers emerged from behind the rooftops and battlements on both sides of the camp, their bowstrings simultaneously drawn back with a series of taut clicks, then released, arrows raining down on those blocked in the camp gate passage. The Bear Tribe cavalrymen were trapped in the narrow passage inside the camp gate, with fallen horses and traps in front of them, and their comrades still pouring in behind them. Blocked on both sides by the walls, the arrows fell from above, almost never missing their mark. Some tried to block the overhead fire, but to no avail. Some turned to run, but the cavalry behind them continued to advance. The advance blocked the retreat, trapping the horses in place. They shook their heads violently, their long neighs mingling with the cries of the wounded, only to be drowned out by the whistling of the next volley of arrows. Some tumbled off their horses, hiding behind the carcasses, but arrows still managed to circumvent the only cover, piercing their exposed waists or thighs. Wolf Tribe cavalry from the east and west gates flanked the last group of the Bear Tribe cavalry attempting to escape from the rear of the column. Those still on the periphery were caught in a pincer movement before they could even turn their horses. Some tried to clear a path with their swords, but Wolf Tribe cavalry blocked their blades with shields, then pierced their bodies with spears thrust from the other side. Soon, the last horse struggling to its feet also collapsed. The sounds of clashing swords gradually thinned, echoing a few times inside the camp gates before disappearing completely.
All 1,200 cavalrymen were killed in action. Xiong Pan's body was buried under several horse carcasses. When the Wolf Tribe warriors pulled him out, he was still holding the broken dagger in his hand. The blade was broken in two, and the metal at the break point gleamed with the luster of freshly cut metal. The other half was nowhere to be found. His eyes were still half open, as if he had not fully believed what was happening before his eyes even in his last moment.
Xueya stood beside the corpse, looking down at it for a while. His gaze lingered on Xiong Pan's face for a few moments, as if to confirm that he would not stand up again. He then turned and walked towards the center of the camp without looking back.
That night, the Bear Tribe camp was ablaze with firelight all night long. The frustration that had been building up for days among the Wolf Tribe warriors was released like water bursting its banks. Some roasted freshly slaughtered sheep and pigs over the fire, wine jars were brought out of the warehouse, their seals broken one after another, and the wine, gleaming amber in the firelight, was shared in bowls. Some sang around the fire in the open space in the center of the camp, their tunes rough and hoarse, their lyrics broken, as if expressing emotions that could finally be released. Someone poked at the unburnt wood in the fire with a stick, sending sparks into the night sky, which briefly shone before going out. The wives and female relatives of the Bear Tribe leaders were brought out of their tents. Some were pulled into tents, some sat against the wall with their arms wrapped around their knees, their heads buried in their arms, their shoulders occasionally trembling, and some stood motionless in the shadows between the tents, their faces pale.
It wasn't until midnight that the noise in the camp gradually subsided. The fires went out one by one, leaving only a few flickering embers. The dark red embers glowed and faded in the ashes. Some people lay asleep on the ground, their arms draped over empty wine bowls beside them; others sat against the wall, still holding half-empty wine bowls in their hands, their heads tilted to one side. The camp fell silent again, with only the sound of the wind passing between the empty tents and the occasional neigh of a horse from afar, which was quickly swallowed by the night.
The next morning, the sunlight illuminated the mess in the camp. The bloodstains on the ground had dried to a dark brown, forming irregular dark patches on the mud, the edges of which were peeling up thinly. Ashes from the fire lay piled in the open, their edges still clinging to unburnt embers. Xueya emerged from a tent, stretched his neck at the doorway, and pinched the back of his neck, the bones making a slight cracking sound. The sunlight shone on his face, clearly illuminating the lingering weariness in the corners of his eyes, but his gaze had regained its calculated clarity. He stood at the entrance for a while, watching the soldiers still packing up in the camp—some were carrying bundles of bronze weapons out of the warehouse, the hilts of swords and spearheads clanging against each other with a crisp metallic sound, stacked on the open ground awaiting sorting; others were folding leather armor and stacking it on flatbed carts; some were packing pottery jars into sacks, placing dry grass between the jars to prevent them from breaking on the road; cattle and horses were being led to the open ground in the center of the camp, lined up in several rows, and some were checking whether the Ma'an straps were loose, pulling the leather ropes from one end to the other.
Yexiao walked over from the other side of the camp. He stopped in front of Xueya, switched the whetstone to his left hand, wiped his right hand on the hem of his clothes, and said in a clear, early morning voice, "Chief, what do we do next? The Bear Tribe has a huge amount of supplies, and with our current transportation capabilities, we can't transport them all back in one go. Also, what do we do with the more than 20,000 people in the camp? The Bear Tribe's fields have already been cultivated, and we can harvest a lot of grain after the autumn harvest. If everyone leaves, the land will be left unattended."
Xueya thought for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the piles of supplies being sorted and stacked in the camp—bronze weapons and leather armor were already piled into several large heaps, and pottery was being packed into sacks. He spoke in a low voice, as if he had already mentally planned out the order of things, "First, have the warriors collect all the high-value, easily portable supplies: bronze weapons, leather armor, pottery, cattle and horses—anything that can fit and won't spoil on the road, take it all. Take most of the grain as well, leaving just enough for them to eat until the autumn harvest. Gather the young and beautiful women and take them with you. Leave the rest here for now; they won't want to leave. They'll stay here to look after the fields. When the autumn harvest comes, we'll bring people over, and all this grain will be our Wolf Tribe's!"
Yexiao's eyes lit up after hearing this. His gaze lingered on Xueya's face for a moment, as if he were going over the plan in his mind, but he couldn't find any obvious flaws. "The leader is wise. If the people stay here, the land won't go to waste, and we can still harvest grain in the fall. We just need to come and collect it on time. We don't need to support these people ourselves, nor do we need to send people to guard the land."
Xueya nodded, lowering his voice slightly, with a sense of urgency as he finished. "Alright, hurry up and make the arrangements. The Fire Tribe Fire Tribe send people after us. Before they do, pack up anything you can and don't linger on the road. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it will be!"