Homeward (1)
I groaned, my head pounding and my stomach churning with nausea. Every breath I exhaled carried the lingering stench of alcohol that scraped through my nostrils like sandpaper, pouring more fuel onto the blazing migraine inside my skull. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten this drunk. Distillation techniques hadn’t been invented yet, so the liquor of this era wasn’t particularly strong. Most grown men who fancied themselves drinkers usually filled their bellies long before the buzz could truly hit them.
At least the morning sunlight streaming through the window had done its work while I slept, and the diligent efforts of my liver had burned off most of the poison. I was functional again. Before passing out, I’d left a cup of ice water on the small bedside table… It was frozen solid now. I took a swig of the lukewarm water from my CamelBak, used the rest to rinse my face, then stepped out of the barracks.
The winter morning air was still bitterly cold. The sentries standing watch, their noses red from the chill, snapped salutes as I passed and then shuffled off to their quarters to catch some sleep. I noticed a few odd glances from the soldiers, but after the way I’d drunk myself into a blackout, I couldn’t exactly blame them.
“Hey, finally awake?”
“Cao Cao… you look completely fine?”
We’d drunk the same stuff, yet while I felt like my insides were trying to crawl out of my body, Cao Cao’s face was perfectly calm. What the hell? Was this the legendary liver power of men who had to survive in this barbaric age where weakness meant death?
“I didn’t chug an entire jar like someone I know. Expecting to be fine after downing that much strong liquor is just greedy, don’t you think?”
“I… drank an entire jar?”
“You were completely wasted. I was honestly surprised you could even get that drunk.”
“…Did anything happen?”
I was well aware that my mental state wasn’t exactly healthy. That was why I usually only drank enough to help me sleep. But lately I’d been feeling pretty stable, so I must have let my guard down.
“Nothing happened? You pulled your sword and went completely berserk.”
“Ugh… was anyone hurt?”
“Fortunately, Lord Lu knew a spell to put you to sleep. Whether it was sorcery or Taoist magic, thanks to him, no one was injured.”
Of course. I’d had another episode. Just how long was this damn trauma going to keep gnawing at my mind? Even after thirty years in this world two thousand years before my own, it still clouded my head. Normally it didn’t interfere much with daily life, but every once in a while a screw would come loose. I’d really thought I was doing better lately and had let myself relax. Guess not.
Luckily, it seemed Liu Bei—who had learned swordsmanship directly from me—had managed to restrain my rampage. Besides, generals in this era beating people while drunk wasn’t exactly rare. Of course, if Liaodong troops did it, they’d be severely punished… but well, attempted assault could be overlooked to some degree, right?
No? When you’re a duke, killing one or two people is basically legal. Surprisingly, one of the Nine Bestowments that came with the title of duke was the Battle Axe, which granted the privilege of not being punished for murder. Another was the Bow and Arrows, meaning the right to purge political enemies at will. It was essentially a form of immunity for high officials. I wasn’t some bloodthirsty murderer who killed indiscriminately, but it did give me grounds to cover up any “unfortunate accidents.”
…Still, I’d have to apologize to Liu Bei properly later.
I calmed my roiling stomach with a cup of sweet soy milk mixed with a bit of the sugar I’d received as a gift from my Indian friends, then went to greet the Emperor with a morning visit. Of course I didn’t observe perfect etiquette, but when you’re a duke of the realm, that level of rudeness was forgivable.
“I heard there was quite an incident last night. Perhaps you should cut back on the drinking?”
“I will do so.”
“You still look hungover. We should postpone your departure for Liaodong.”
“There’s no need. Please don’t worry about me.”
“I’ve never once seen anyone who said those words actually turn out fine.”
The Emperor gave a bitter smile, but charging into battle while drunk was something I’d done quite often. And… I needed time with my family to find some peace of mind.
So you returned empty-handed?
I apologize.
Son-in-law, did I ask for anything grand? Hm?
…I could not fight Cao Cao’s personal guard on Yan’s territory. I was there as an envoy of friendship. I can simply visit again in a few days.
Son-in-law, in this chaotic age, a few days is more than enough for things to go wrong. When you see an opening, you must strike immediately.
Dong Zhuo scolded me for returning from Yan empty-handed, but he didn’t press the matter further. After all, he had been the one to assign me only a small escort to avoid unnecessary friction with Gongsun Zan’s army. Since Li Ru was using the lack of troops as an excuse, any further criticism would only amount to admitting his own incompetence. It was only natural.
“Cao Cao… Cao Cao, huh… Wouldn’t giving Guo Si forty thousand troops be enough?”
“It should be more than sufficient. However, the defensive line established at Pingyuan looks formidable. Yan should be the very last target we strike.”
“A defensive line… You mean the one from the Yellow Turban Rebellion?”
“Yes. It’s certain to be far more solidly built than the mobile defenses they used to push back the Yellow Turbans. To trample Yan’s lands, we would need to mobilize an army of several hundred thousand at minimum.”
“Tsk. What a nuisance. Send scouts. The moment Cao Cao, Governor of Yanzhou, leaves, have them go again.”
“Understood. I will ensure this never disappoints you again.”
“Good. Call Lu Bu in. The Battle of Hulao Pass was months ago, yet he’s still cowering in fear. As his father, I need to give him a stern talking-to.”
It would be another two thousand years before trauma was properly understood. In this era, wounds from battle were considered a man’s badge of honor, and dark humor used to escape the fear of death was seen as the composure of a veteran. There was naturally no systematic approach to dealing with the psychological toll of war. Lu Bu, experiencing shell shock for the first time and unable to control his own body, was simply described as a weak man who had fallen into madness.
Countless soldiers were needed to restrain Lu Bu’s berserk fits despite his unmatched martial prowess. Some of them lost their lives or were gravely injured, ending their careers as warriors. Naturally, all of that damage fell on the Bingzhou Army. The troops, already looked down upon by the Xiliang Army and the Imperial Guard, grew even more resentful and volatile.
Although they had repelled the Anti-Dong Zhuo Coalition once, the Emperor’s disappearance had caused the Confucian-Taliban terrorists and assassination attempts to become increasingly frequent. With public order in the capital Luoyang collapsing, the remnants of the Coalition who had fled to the provinces were surely waiting for a chance to rise again, muttering ominous things like “Wait… one more time?” And Dong Zhuo now found himself in desperate need of every single soldier.
“Damn it, nothing ever goes smoothly. Who is currently commanding the Bingzhou Army?”
“A general named Gao Shun. His personal troops have never once failed a siege, so they are called the Camp Crushers.”
“Hmm… Call him in as well. If he’s skilled at sieges, I should at least hear his opinion.”
“Yes!”
Dong Zhuo loved fighting in the mud. He had always won in those filthy, desperate battlefields. But the current situation felt less like mud and more like quicksand. He felt as if he were being slowly, ever so slowly, dragged into a bottomless swamp. His ankles were only submerged for now, but if he couldn’t find solid ground soon, disaster was inevitable.
Even though months had passed, Lu Bu still felt as if iron shards were lodged in his right eye. His eardrums had burst, leaving him deaf. The flash had blinded him completely. The metal fragments embedded in his skin burned like fire, and the stench of his own cooked flesh filled his nose. His beloved Red Hare, struck directly by the iron plates, had gone mad with the roar and terror, thrashing desperately to survive. Lu Bu had simply clung on with every ounce of strength in his hands and legs, muscles tearing, fighting not to fall from the saddle.
“Aaaagh… AAAAAAAAAAGH!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
He clutched the right side of his face and continued smashing everything in the room.
“My lord, please calm down!”
“Grr… Aaaagh!”
His condition improved somewhat when he was with the woman he had met locally—the former courtesan of Luoyang’s Diaochan Pavilion. But whenever he had a nightmare, the memories of that day would mercilessly consume his entire body.
“That cowardly… that cowardly bastard! If I meet him again, this Fengxian will never lose… Aaaagh!”
Thanks to the excellent skills of the Jingzhou physician, Doctor Zhang, he had been able to remain in the army. But it was undeniable that his abilities had greatly diminished. His torn thigh could no longer grip a horse’s flank as firmly as before, and with only one eye, judging distance had become difficult. His archery skill hadn’t declined much, but a vanguard general shooting arrows from the rear did little for army morale.
“Gongsun Zan! That rat bastard! I will tear him to pieces! Aaaagh!”
Bang bang bang!
“General Lu! Grand Commander Dong is looking for you! General Lu!”
“My lord, please calm yourself. Grand Commander Dong—Father—is calling for you. You must go see him at once.”
“Ugh… ugh… I… Haa… Tell him… I’m sorry. Tell him I’ll wash my face and come see him shortly.”
Pus mixed with blood trickled from his right eye again. His remaining eye burned with unquenchable rage.