The Prince of Bohai (2)
On the road from Luoyang to You Province, I ran into a familiar face. Well… not exactly a welcome one. It was Dong Zhuo.
“Hey there, little brother!”
“Who exactly is your little brother… General Dong, what brings you here?”
“Do we only meet when there’s business? Word is you’ve got eyes planted in Luoyang?”
Damn it, the kid’s right here listening. Why bring that up now?
“Jian Shuo of the Ten Eunuchs died a few days ago. Even if I’m just a border commander, I’d hardly qualify as a Han official if I knew nothing of what happens in Luoyang.”
“Hahaha! Right you are! That’s why I’m here, little brother. How about we linger here together for a few days?”
“My schedule is tight. No point wasting time.”
“No, no, that’s not it. Benchu—that black-hearted whelp—got caught scheming again, and this time it was right under my nose.”
“He’s in any position to scheme?”
The Western Garden Army had been disbanded. Its former supreme commander, the late emperor, was dead, and its second-in-command, Jian Shuo, was gone too. Yuan Shao, third in line, lacked the authority to issue orders to Grand General He Jin’s Imperial Guards, and everyone below him was even less relevant. Naturally the army dissolved. Its officers were reassigned to posts one rank higher than before, but those new titles carried none of the extralegal power the Western Garden Army once wielded. They could grumble all they liked; what could they do? Stage Yellow Turban Rebellion: Season Two?
When the late emperor died I’d expected total chaos, yet the Grand General and the people of this era proved more sensible than I’d feared. They enthroned the new emperor within days and kept the turmoil to a minimum. The new sovereign had received no proper training as a ruler, so any grand revival of the Han was unlikely, but at least we could probably muddle through the next twenty years and manage a soft landing for the next dynasty. After all, Confucian scholars love that sort of thing—passing the throne to the worthy, Shun-and-Yao style.
“Rebels never wait for perfect conditions before they rise. They weigh the odds and strike anyway.”
“Successful rebels weigh the odds first.”
Everyone starts by running the numbers. The difference is that most miscalculate and go bankrupt; only the winners get to call it revolution instead of treason.
“As expected, little brother understands how the world works! Exactly. Any mischief now has almost no chance of success. That’s why even I, Dong Zhongying, have stepped away from Luoyang to lie low for a while. Hahaha!”
“That’s not exactly something to brag about.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. This Dong Zhongying feels no shame in retreat. Soldiers fight, and sometimes they run.”
His hearty laughter cut off abruptly. Dong Zhuo’s expression turned serious.
“As long as you win in the very end, nothing else matters. Don’t you agree, little brother?”
Well… that’s not quite how I see it. Winning in the end is obviously important, but the means aren’t irrelevant. Look what happened to the CIA after they tried that approach—MKUltra? The Contras? Ignoring every moral line to reach a goal is efficient until the blowback hits you.
“General Dong, keep that up and one day you’ll make the whole world your enemy.”
“Hah! You’re probably right. I’ll remember that. Ah!”
“Hm?”
“May I greet the Prince of Bohai myself?”
“You may not.”
“It’s not a request.”
“And I’m not joking.”
“…”
“If you cause trouble here, I swear I’ll take your head before I leave. You have my word.”
I had no Jincheonroe left. I’d used them all, and though I’d made more, I hadn’t brought any this time. Regrettable, but Dong Zhuo didn’t know that, so it didn’t matter.
Our gazes locked for a tense moment. Then Dong Zhuo broke into his usual good-natured grin.
“Hahaha! Terrifying, truly terrifying. Very well. That was greedy of me. I apologize.”
Without another word I turned my horse and rode past his column.
“Your Highness, we need to pick up the pace. Please bear with it for a few days.”
“Y-yes… of course.”
The twin-horse carriage carrying the Prince of Bohai sped up, and the infantry and cavalry shifted from a leisurely formation into a tight protective screen.
“We’ll take a ship. The river will be flooding soon, but it’s the fastest way.”
“Yes, sir!”
So it was back to the water again. With the river this rough, I wondered how the kid would hold up…
---
“Kill them!”
“Slaughter them all!”
…What a mess.
At Mengjin Port—the harbor that linked Luoyang to the Yellow River—the moment the Prince of Bohai and I arrived hoping for a swift return journey, chaos erupted.
“Bandits…? No. This is sabotage.”
“Burn everything! Kill them all!”
Men darted through the port, setting fires and stabbing anyone in reach. They prioritized killing over looting—an odd choice, unless their commander was unusually ambitious and his men unusually disciplined. Even then, someone that capable would have either become a bandit king or earned an official post by crushing the Yellow Turbans. Missing that chance and rising up now made no sense.
“Lower your faceplates. Tighten the escort formation. Cavalry, with me—we’re putting down this revolt.”
“A revolt?!”
“Their equipment is far too good for common bandits, Your Highness. They’re dressed in black, but I can see Hosimgap under the cloth. Either private troops of some powerful clan or a properly prepared uprising.”
Just in case, I grabbed the axe hanging behind the royal carriage, spurred my horse, and closed the distance.
“You bastards! What gives you the nerve to rebel?”
“Hah! Rebel? Me—!”
Mid-level officers made better interrogation targets, so I didn’t need to hear the rest from their leader. Without slowing my horse I swung the axe and took the man’s head clean off. A deliberate twist sent the skull spinning skyward; I spun the axe once more and hurled the body aside.
Thwack!
Damn… it’s been a while since my blood ran this hot.
“R-run!”
“How did he get here so fast?!”
“What the—?! The captain?!”
“Charge! Charge, damn you!”
The enemy were all infantry, armed with swords instead of spears and wearing only Hosimgap. They stood no chance against armored cavalry at full gallop.
“Aaaagh!”
“Ghhk!”
“Drive them toward the docks! Not one escapes!”
Even if these horses weren’t the finest breed, they were still warhorses. A cavalryman’s reach from horseback, combined with a razor-sharp saber, swept enemies aside faster and harder than any foot soldier could manage.
“Don’t let them form up! These aren’t ordinary bandits. Infantry—form a square around His Highness! Your only job is to protect him!”
I galloped through the battlefield, directing the fight while harvesting heads alongside my cavalry. Occasionally a hot-blooded warhorse trampled foes; when a particularly bold enemy thrust upward, I parried with my armored boot and finished him with the blade.
Unfair? Cavalry had always been the tanks of the pre-modern world. That was the whole point.
They numbered only a few hundred. With three hundred of my own horsemen, the fight was over in under thirty minutes.
“W-we surrender!”
“Drop your weapons! We yield!”
The smarter officers realized the odds and threw down their arms at once. A few slower ones who kept fighting were cut down, and the battle ended.
We herded the surviving “bandits” into the loading yard and dragged one who looked like a mid-level commander to his knees before me.
“Name.”
“…”
“Name.”
“I won’t—”
Thwack.
“That’s fine. Plenty more to ask.”
Seizing the initiative was essential in interrogation. A hard-won lesson from dealing with fanatics. I hauled the corpse of the first officer over, stripped it, and began a very thorough anatomy lesson for the others.
“Ugh… ghhk!”
The Prince of Bohai had been moved to safety, so a little noise wouldn’t matter. Even if it did—well, this was the era we lived in. Without a proper judicial system, reliable information required dirty hands.
“Urrgh!”
In an age long past the era of the gods, most of these men had probably never seen anything like this before. After half an hour of anatomical instruction, I sliced a piece of pink meat from the remains and approached the next prisoner.
“You’re a monster.”
“I know.”
I knew better than anyone that a man who could do this without blinking wasn’t human anymore.
“Eat.”
It didn’t matter. In chaotic times, this sort of temperament was an advantage.
---
“What?!”
The previous day, Gongsun Zan, who had left Luoyang for You Province, sent a single memorial back to the capital. It reported that Black Mountain bandits had attacked Mengjin Port and that his Liaodong troops, delayed while seeking passage, had repelled them. As proof, the salted head of the bandit chieftain was enclosed.
The court erupted.
“Black Mountain bandits?! How could they cross Bing Province and reach Henei? How could the Colonel Director of Retainers have been unaware?”
“M-my deepest apologies!”
“Your Majesty! Punish the corrupt Colonel Director of Retainers at once!”
The current Colonel Director was an ordinary member of the Dirty Stream faction who had purchased one of the late emperor’s job-backed bonds. He was the usual sort of petty official who skimmed military funds to pay his debts. The Clean Stream faction’s long-sharpened blade—impeachment—finally struck, and with no shield left to protect him, he fell without resistance. The Dirty Stream’s seat was now vacant, and the Clean Stream already had a candidate ready.
“Your Majesty! The former Western Garden Army Colonel Yuan Shao is upright and just; his filial and loyal heart runs deep. Appoint him the new Colonel Director of Retainers so that Black Mountain bandits may never again threaten Luoyang!”
“…Very well. It shall be done.”
The reigning emperor, Liu Bian, had never received proper imperial training. To someone in his position, the words “Clean Stream faction” carried the comfortable connotation of “the good guys,” and in truth they were marginally better than the bond-buying officials. It took almost no time for his sympathies to shift.
“Colonel Yuan, will you accept the post of Colonel Director of Retainers, serve me, and safeguard the Han?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Effective today, former Colonel Director Qing Yan is dismissed. Yuan Shao is hereby appointed Colonel Director of Retainers.”
“Your boundless grace humbles me, Your Majesty.”
A transfer of power from Dirty Stream to Clean Stream was underway, and He Jin read the signs.
This is bad… this is very bad.
Power belonged in the emperor’s hands. The Dirty Stream had been corrupt, yet at least their authority ultimately flowed from the throne. If this were a time of peace—or if the emperor at least understood how much power he actually held—perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered. Or if the next emperor had done this instead, it might have been tolerable.
But the Clean Stream had spent years under the proscription of the Partisan Prohibition nursing their grudges, and they were now fully prepared to scrutinize every speck of dust on a Dirty Stream official’s robes.
“Your Majesty! This tragedy occurred because the Ten Eunuchs recklessly planned to recruit and ‘civilize’ the Black Mountain bandits. Please punish them as well!”
““Please punish them as well!””
Wait. We need to let off steam first. Even if we strike the Ten Eunuchs, we must weaken them before we strike. If we move now, the emperor dies.
Handing the Colonel Director post to Yuan Shao had already tilted the balance toward the Clean Stream, but the Ten Eunuchs’ power—swollen from serving two emperors—had not diminished. They had quietly eliminated Jian Shuo, after all, and countless others had vanished without trace under their purges. They could be removed, but not yet. Time was still required.
“Your Majesty, would you dismiss the others for a moment?”
“Yes… no, I will. Grand… General.”
The emperor was young and inexperienced. Normally a regent would guide him until he came of age—usually an imperial relative, or failing that the empress dowager or a trusted minister. Unfortunately, no such person existed in Luoyang now. Empress Dowager He had once been a butcher’s wife alongside He Jin and knew nothing of politics. Empress Dowager Dong favored Liu Xie over Liu Bian and was too risky to trust as guardian. Liu Yan in Yizhou was obviously plotting independence. Liu Yu in You Province had long declared he would protect the prince who had not become emperor. Liu Biao remained entangled in the Partisan Prohibition and could not be restored. Among the imperial kin, not one stood ready to support Liu Bian.
The Dirty Stream had been ruined by the subprime crisis triggered by the job-backed bonds, and the Ten Eunuchs’ public reputation was abysmal.
I thought I’d be fine as long as it wasn’t my reign… but it looks like the dynasty will fall on my watch.
He Jin had believed that seizing the throne would solve everything, yet he now held a poisoned chalice. He had gravely underestimated the Clean Stream’s long-nurtured venom and the blades they had spent years sharpening.
At the emperor’s command the high officials withdrew. He Jin spoke carefully.
“Your Majesty, the Han still needs more time.”
“Time? Ah… no, continue.”
“I understand you wish to favor the Clean Stream. But the Ten Eunuchs still wield enormous power, and their influence remains formidable. Opening a boiling pot without protection will only scald your hands.”
At the very least, the pot needed time to cool—and a protective cloth. He Jin was willing to be that cloth, but time was still required.