Chapter Sixty: The Alliance (XIV)

Over a thousand Yue cavalry surged past Lie Lie, who finally stopped, panting for breath.

Only then did Lie Lie feel his heart settle back into his chest. Only now did he realize his limbs were weak and trembling.

The formation of over a thousand Yue warriors on horseback swept past him like an arrow array. At the rear of the formation rode Heiguo, his face grim, surrounded by more than a dozen personal guards who shielded him closely, as if they were facing a mortal enemy even with such numbers.

The reason was simple: just moments before, they had all witnessed the charge of Xu Le and his two companions. With only a few dozen horsemen, they had shattered their ranks, throwing everything into chaos—riders tumbled from their horses one after another, leaving a trail of dead and wounded scattered across the ground.

Fortunately, Xu Le and the others had not been armored. If they had been fully equipped, they might well have dared to charge headlong into this array of a hundred archers!

Heiguo had been raised in comfort since childhood; the foundation of the Yue tribe’s ten thousand tents had been won by Wutou in years past. He had scant experience with real battle or slaughter. Now, confronted with such warriors who could take on a thousand on their own, he felt completely unsafe—even with layers of guards around him.

Xu Le halted and raised his spear. The hundred-strong Yue cavalry and warriors who had surrendered with Heiguo instinctively stopped as well, not daring to advance a step.

Over a hundred taut bowstrings trembled, creaking in unison. Sweat beaded in the palms of the Yue cavalrymen, yet their fingers remained rigid, gripping both string and arrow, terrified that a single slip would loose an arrow and provoke Xu Le and his companions into a deadly charge.

This was no longer the era at the end of the Jin dynasty, when internecine war among the Eight Princes had exhausted the last of the Han’s elite soldiers, and the times had grown weak, allowing the Five Barbarian tribes to sweep across northern China like a storm.

Now, it was the era of the Grand Sui. Though all knew that the empire teetered on the verge of collapse and dynastic change, centuries of bloodshed and carnage had forged the Han generals and soldiers into hardened, unyielding warriors no less fierce than the tribes of the steppe. At the founding of the Sui, countless famous generals had dominated the borders, cowing even the Turks into not daring to look upon the Central Plains with open eyes.

Even as the Grand Sui began to crumble, the Turks grew in power, inspiring their subordinate tribes with renewed ambitions to conquer the heartland. Yet the shadow cast by the Han’s fierce generals and elite troops in the early Sui years still lingered unbroken over the steppe.

And now, this young Han on a red horse, spear in hand, made the tribes of the grassland recall, with a shudder, the era of Sui’s greatest might and the terror of being utterly dominated.

Xu Le turned and left, spear in hand. Heiguo’s face remained expressionless as he sat in silence, surrounded by his guards.

But Lie Lie, having finally caught his breath, began to shout furiously, stomping his feet: “My lord! We must seize them!”

Heiguo snapped back to himself. To let three Han men cow the Nine Surnames tribes into immobility, with two Turkic nobles still seated in the tent—how would the Turks regard the Nine Surnames if Xu Le and his companions came and went as they pleased?

Heiguo shouted loudly, “Take them!”

The hundred-strong Yue warriors hesitated only a moment before responding, unleashing a chorus of shouts. They loosened their reins, raising a cloud of dust as they galloped in pursuit.

The thunder of hooves erupted behind them as Xu Le and his two companions sped toward Cloud City.

Song Bao, like Han Yue, clung close to Xu Le, shouting, “Master Le, damn it, they're gaining on us!”

Xu Le glanced back. Bu Li sat quietly and obediently behind him, arms tightly wrapped around his waist. Her long hair streamed in the wind, brushing against Xu Le’s face and making him sneeze mightily.

Even as they crashed through the formation of Yue cavalry, Bu Li showed no sign of fear. Xu Le’s sneeze, though, startled her enough to make her shiver.

Xu Le rubbed his nose and gave a sheepish grin. “Bu Li, you’d better move to the front.”

Bu Li blinked her large eyes and, with a light leap and a nimble twist, settled herself in front of Xu Le on the saddle, grasping the horse’s mane, instantly quiet and still.

Xu Le called out, “A Yue, where’s my bow?”

Han Yue’s horse was laden with saddle bags on both sides and a large bundle strapped behind, stuffed with their belongings. At Xu Le’s call, Han Yue quickly rummaged through a bag and handed over a horseman’s bow along with a quiver of arrows.

Xu Le slid his spear into the saddle, tested the bowstring, drew a few arrows to check their fletching and straightness.

As the horses galloped on—the wind whipping Bu Li’s hair in front, dust swirling behind, and the thunderous pursuit of over a hundred horsemen closing—Xu Le remained composed, as if out for a casual ride in the countryside.

Song Bao, sweating profusely, shouted in alarm, “Master Le!”

Without even turning his head, Xu Le asked, “A Yue, how many paces?”

Before Han Yue could reply, Song Bao shouted, “Forty!”

Xu Le smiled. “That’s enough!”

No sooner had he spoken than Han Yue tossed the Yuli iron shield to Song Bao. Song Bao caught it, bewildered, as Xu Le, having uttered those words, twisted in the saddle. With his right hand on the bow, his left hooked the string with his index and middle fingers, three more arrows gripped between his other fingers. In a flash, the bow arched like a full moon—one arrow after another, three in rapid succession!

In the pursuing ranks, two Yue cavalrymen took arrows to the throat and toppled from their saddles, trampled under the hooves of their own mounts before they could even cry out. The third arrow struck slightly off target but slammed into the iron armor beneath a leather coat with a loud clang, knocking the rider flat on his back in the saddle, his bow and arrows flung high into the air.

Xu Le’s three arrows were like stirring a hornet’s nest. The pursuers all raised their bows and unleashed a hail of arrows.

But horse bows, used on the move, were compact—six dan of draw weight at most. To shoot accurately from horseback, thirty paces was the mark of a skilled archer. Xu Le’s bow, crafted for him by his grandfather, was of the same size but made with only the finest materials, and had taken over two years to temper. It boasted over eight dan of draw weight.

Though archery was not Xu Le’s greatest skill, he surpassed most expert horse archers. Shooting from forty paces, he had already felled two and wounded a third. The Yue cavalry, forced to loose their arrows by Xu Le’s provocation, were still just out of range. Their volley, though impressive, was wildly inaccurate—arrows whistled past in all directions.

Han Yue had already dashed to Xu Le’s side, unfurling the Shentu great shield to cover himself and Xu Le. Song Bao, too, hefted the Yuli iron shield to guard his vital points, reducing the threat of the arrow storm to almost nothing.

Beneath the Shentu iron shield, Xu Le’s gaze never wavered as arrows rained down. Calmly, he nocked arrow after arrow, and with every twang of the bowstring, another Yue cavalryman fell, tumbling into the dust.

By now, the Yue warriors were wild with fury, urging their horses on in a desperate charge, loosing arrows despite their lack of aim—anything to close the gap. The arrows flew ever closer, many striking the shields with showers of sparks.

At last, Xu Le ceased firing, returned his arrows to the quiver, and called out, “Ride! Now!”

Song Bao, flustered as he shielded himself from the whistling arrows, shouted back in exasperation, “Which way?”

Xu Le bent low, making himself as small a target as possible. Bu Li, sheltered behind his broad back, was safe as long as Xu Le did not fall.

Hearing Song Bao’s frantic shout, Xu Le replied with an easy laugh, even as arrows swarmed, “Are the Heng’an Eagle Warriors just going to watch the Nine Surnames tribe charge all the way up to their faces?”

Before them lay the low hill defensive line outside Cloud City. At that moment, shrill horns blared from the military posts on the hills. Soldiers crowded the parapets, bows and crossbows at the ready. The gates of several posts swung open, and squads of armored cavalry emerged in columns, banners flying, ready to counterattack at any moment.

Xu Le’s voice rang out again, “This is still Cloud City—Sui territory!”