The Qiang Tribes (4)
"Lord Beigong Boyu!!"
"······What is it?"
Beigong Boyu, who had been sprawled out in arrogant indolence, sat up with his disheveled hair knotted into a magpie's nest and his mouth gaping wide as a hippopotamus's.
Perhaps from having overindulged in drink the night before, his fatigue-ridden face was warped with the sour displeasure of being roused from sleep.
"If this isn't important, then you······"
"Urgent news, my lord!! Han Sui and Ma Teng are leading their armies against this place as we speak!"
"···What did you say?!"
"The Han court has made its acceptance of the surrendering warlords conditional upon your head, Lord Beigong — and the heads of the other chieftains!!"
KWAANG!!
"···Y-you cursed bastards!!"
At the report, Beigong Boyu flew into a rage and smashed his fist down on the desk beside him. The impact rocked the table, sending the wine bottle atop it tumbling to shatter on the floor.
"Not content with refusing to lift a finger for the comrades who fought beside him right here in Liangzhou, he means to make sacrificial lambs of us to prove his loyalty?"
To Beigong Boyu, Han Sui had become utterly detestable.
Long ago, when Han Sui had joined the rebellion that erupted in Xiliang and watched it collapse, it was Beigong Boyu who had sheltered him — helping him change his name and bury his old identity to escape the imperial manhunt — all out of the solidarity shared between Liangzhou's warlords and magnates.
Of course, that favor had been a calculated investment, made in expectation of aid someday from the man who would one day swallow all of Xiliang as its paramount warlord. He had been certain Han Sui would repay him.
And yet—
Han Sui had thrown that old debt back in his face and, like a bat, latched onto the Han court.
Worse, he had joined hands with Ma Teng — a man of meager means who nonetheless carried the blood of a great Han noble house — and turned his back on the countless warlords who had raised their banners against the Han in Xiliang.
Allying himself with Ma Teng, of Han noble blood, was in itself a declaration that he meant to submit to that beggar of a dynasty. It was the walk of a traitorous minister, nothing less.
"That bat of a man······!! No — if anything, this works in our favor. Inform Li Wenhou and Bian Zhang of this at once, and assemble every soldier we have!!"
Grinding his teeth, Beigong Boyu commanded his forces to muster in preparation for all-out war.
"At once!!"
His subordinate, terrified by the sight of Beigong Boyu's fury, trembled and bolted from the residence.
"You traitor. This place will be your grave."
Bitterly denouncing the detestable turncoat, Beigong Boyu clenched his fist.
He had attacked Jincheng Commandery once before, only to be driven back by the exploits of Ma Teng and Yan Xing — but his army had since swelled far beyond its former size. This time, he would not lose. His mind churned, filled to the brim with thoughts of killing the defector Han Sui.
Once I had refined the stirrups and confirmed their performance, I had them mass-produced in the workshop and distributed throughout the army.
But the soldiers balked at using them — on the grounds that the things made them look like the barbarians who came raiding from the north. As if they weren't already looked down upon by the people of the Central Plains for their frontier origins; now riding with a stirrup on each side would make them look like barbarians, of all things?
Besides, these were men long accustomed to the saddle, and they seemed to feel no particular need to change how they rode. In the end, it took father's direct order and a firm push in the name of their own safety to get them to use the things, however grudgingly.
Most of the cavalry had worn their unease openly at first, wary of being mistaken for barbarians — but once they grew used to the stirrups, their reviews turned glowing: keeping their balance had become far easier. With a foothold under each foot, a steadier seat made shooting from horseback easier, and eased the strain of gripping the horse with the thighs alone.
Best of all, it would make training new cavalrymen vastly easier — Xiliang's endless open plains were tailor-made for drilling horsemen.
"Huh? These are way more comfortable!"
Even Ma Chao was grinning from ear to ear, plainly delighted — a relief, that much was certain.
With the improved stirrups fully distributed, we led twenty thousand cavalry toward Wuwei Commandery to strike down the traitor Beigong Boyu.
The forces garrisoned there consisted of Beigong Boyu — de facto chieftain of the Qiang warlords — and the magnate factions that had answered his call: Li Wenhou and Bian Zhang.
To anyone acquainted only with Romance of the Three Kingdoms, all three names would have drawn the same baffled reaction: who the hell are these guys?
'I was no different — back home, I'd caught only their names while leafing through the historical records, never once reading their deeds closely.'
They were, after all, men bound to vanish midway through a rebellion even within those pages — hardly worth the trouble of remembering.
Ma Teng and Ma Chao commanded the vanguard, while I rode at my father's side with Yan Xing, leading the rearguard.
As my horse carried me along, my thoughts kept circling one person's whereabouts, curiosity gnawing at me.
'Where on earth is Pang De?'
The mighty general who had put an arrow square into Guan Yu's forehead and chilled that warrior to the marrow — a fierce commander who had served at Ma Chao's very side, worthy of being called the Dragon of Xiliang.
I couldn't help wondering where she was. In the historical records, Pang De had served as a commandery clerk and then a provincial officer; in Romance of the Three Kingdoms, she was numbered among Ma Teng's forces from the very start.
As for Ma Dai, Ma Chao had told me she was still at home — so young she had yet to undergo her coming-of-age rite, far too green for a battlefield.
'······If only Pang De were with us too.'
Surely she hadn't taken service with some strange outfit somewhere?
Just as I sank deep into thought······
"We've got trouble!!"
A messenger came galloping back from the vanguard.
"What is it?!"
"A body of enemy troops has appeared ahead and blocked our path! General Ma Chao is engaging them, but the enemy commander on the white horse is formidable!! They're matching General Ma Chao blow for blow!"
"What? Matching Ma Chao? Don't tell me — one of Beigong Boyu's officers?"
"Their identity is unknown, my lord!"
At the news that this stranger was contending on even footing with Ma Chao — whose fame as the Splendid Ma Chao had lately resounded across the land — Han Sui and Yan Xing were aghast. My thoughts ran elsewhere.
'What? A rider on a white horse, matching Ma Chao at this point in time?'
Yan Xing — the man who had once driven a young Ma Chao to death's very door — was guarding my side, and most of Xiliang's ordinary officers were of middling martial skill at best.
'And in all of Xiliang, at this very moment, there is exactly one such person!'
I wheeled my horse about in haste.
"Lead the way, quick! I'll see this for myself!!"
"Yes, my lord."
Father and Yan Xing moved to hold me back, warning of the danger, but unable to still my pounding heart, I spurred into a gallop and made for the site of the duel.
CLANG!!
The closer I came, the sharper the noise rang out — a piercing shriek that stabbed at the ears, sharp enough that one would hardly guess two weapons were striking together. Offense and defense too swift for the eye to follow came one after another, each fierce collision releasing a faint gust of wind.
Every time the riders clashed, their horses churned the earth with rough hooves, and the impact sent dust soaring into the air.
The soldiers' eyes had been stolen outright by the contest — the fierce exchanges between the two generals were striking enough, but the beauty of the two combatants was every bit as extraordinary.
Ma Chao's golden hair scattered on the wind, her whole face lit with a smile of pure enjoyment.
The general who met her — black-haired, with a face of cool elegance — contended with Ma Chao, her expression composed from the first exchange to the last.
"Ah, there you are."
Ma Teng noticed my arrival and came over.
"Did they strike first?"
"No, they've done nothing but block the road. I asked them to come speak with Han Sui for talks, but there was every chance they were Beigong Boyu's officers, no? So we moved to take them captive — and their martial skill proved anything but ordinary."
'I see······'
Listening to Ma Teng, I realized what I had been overlooking.
In Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Ma Teng had been the center of the alliance with Han Sui standing at his side as second — but the present arrangement hewed far closer to the historical records, amounting to Ma Teng folding his forces into Han Sui's army. And with that shift had come small differences like this one.
For now, putting a stop to the duel between those two was the first order of business.
"Ma Chao, hold on!!"
At my approach, Ma Chao stopped mid-swing, and her opponent likewise broke off the fight.
"What? I was just getting into the swing of it······"
"Sorry. Could you step aside for a bit? I'd like a word with her."
"···Tsk. Fine. You'd better count yourself lucky."
Ma Chao, shooting me a disgruntled look at having her duel interrupted, lowered her spear — and the woman lowered her crescent blade in kind. She had worked up a light sweat, but showed no sign of weariness.
'As I thought — no killing intent.'
She had kept up a bold front against Ma Chao from start to finish — and with a bow slung at her hip, I was half certain who she was. I asked:
"Might I have your name? I am Han Yeong, son of Lord Han Sui."
"So you are······"
The woman studied my face for a long moment, then knelt with careful courtesy and gave her name.
"···Forgive my discourtesy. My name is Pang De; my courtesy name is Lingming."
Just as I had suspected.
With Dong Zhuo's army gone from Xiliang, Pang De was the only general alive who could cross weapons with Ma Chao. The only reason I had wavered was that this Pang De, too, was a woman.
'Seriously, why is every famous general a woman?'
The flippant question surfaced, but that wasn't what mattered now. I shoved it into a corner of my mind and turned to Pang De.
"Lord Pang De, might I ask what brings you to block our army's road?"
A thread of expectation ran beneath my words — the hope that Pang De might enlist in our army.
"I heard that you march against Beigong Boyu by order of the court."
"That is correct."
"I ask that you allow me to take part in that battle as well."
Huh?
It was an answer that strayed a little from the one I'd hoped for.
"Might I hear your reasons?"
"Those men trampled my homeland and violated it without mercy. I owe them a debt that must be paid. The soldiers behind me, too, are all victims of Beigong Boyu."
This was the first I had heard of it — Pang De's past had never come up in the novel or the records alike.
Rising from her courteous kneel, she clasped her fist in a formal salute and made her plea:
Gazing into eyes that shimmered with her resolve for vengeance, I thought:
'Me? I could only say thank you.'
I nodded and welcomed her among us.