The Battle of Ma'an Mountain (1)
“...What is it this time? Why have you called for me again?”
A man with a face flushed blood-red and exotic blue eyes entered Fu Rong’s tent. He possessed a robust, solidly built frame.
This was Shamoke, the king who commanded the Wuling Man dwelling throughout the Wuling region.
Fu Rong stated the reason for summoning him without preamble.
“It is time to decide. You have seen the letter His Majesty sent.”
Having received Zhuge Liang’s warning of the danger of a fire attack, Liu Bei had recalled his dispersed forces to reorganize. Letters ordering their return had reached Huang Quan, who was holding the Wei reinforcements in check, as well as Fu Rong and Shamoke, who were pressing the assault on Yidu.
A courier had arrived two days earlier bearing the missive, yet Fu Rong and Shamoke’s opinions had clashed, and they still had not withdrawn.
“His Majesty desires to fall back to Zigui and reorganize the army.”
“...Withdraw?”
Shamoke’s expression made plain that he could not comprehend it.
“The tide of battle favors us. Sun Huan is hard-pressed merely to defend. Why should we need to dress our ranks?”
Sun Huan remained bottled up inside Yidu and showed no sign of even attempting a sortie.
“As a result of the letter from Chancellor Zhuge, we have been walking into a Wu trap. The letter instructs us to rest and refit the troops at Zigui until autumn.”
Upright by nature, Fu Rong intended to obey the command. Shamoke, however, was unconvinced.
“Why must we heed an order issued by Shu’s chancellor?”
His face twisted as though the very idea offended him.
“Do not delude yourself. We answered the call of Shu’s emperor, yes—but that does not mean we have entered your service.”
“What?”
Fu Rong bristled, yet Shamoke only snorted.
“We responded solely because Shu offered payment. Do not presume to command us.”
The Wuling Man had furnished troops only after Ma Liang’s negotiations had secured gold and silk. They remained, strictly speaking, a force separate from Shu.
“The Wuling Man submit to no one. Wu or Shu—it is all the same.”
As a foreign king, Shamoke had never sworn fealty to Emperor Liu Bei. That was why he so often flouted military discipline and indulged in plunder. Even while they had been besieging Yidu, their views had clashed repeatedly.
Ma Liang, who had first persuaded Shamoke to lend his strength, had already returned to the main army once Fu Rong joined the Yidu front. To a commander who prized discipline as Fu Rong did, Shamoke’s open disregard for orders was intolerable.
The two men were locked in unspoken tension when a scream suddenly tore through the air outside.
“Kraaaagh—!!”
They seized their armor at once and strode from the tent.
“What is happening?!”
“General! Wu forces are launching a surprise attack from the rear!”
“What?!”
Fu Rong’s face hardened as he rose.
“Where in blazes did they come from?!”
With Fu Rong’s and Shamoke’s troops encircling the city, Sun Huan’s army could not have moved unless by witchcraft.
“It appears the Jingzhou forces on the Yangtze have shifted!”
They had underestimated the freedom of movement Wu’s river forces enjoyed. Absorbed in watching Lu Xun and Sun Huan, they had never anticipated Wu troops quietly crossing the river downstream.
“Reinforcements!”
“Sweep the Shu dogs away—!”
The moment relief arrived, Sun Huan, who had been cooped up in Yidu, led his own men out to join the assault. Fu Rong’s and Shamoke’s forces now found themselves assailed from both sides.
“Lord Shamoke, the situation is against us. We must withdraw.”
Caught by the unexpected strike, the soldiers could not form a proper defense. Moreover, the main army had already ordered a retreat; there was no need to fight to the death here.
“Hmph. Cowards can clear out!”
Shamoke smashed a Wu soldier’s skull with his prized iron caltrop mace.
“This is perfect. I will crack open Sun Huan’s head and claim Yidu for myself!”
A ferocious smile on his lips, Shamoke spurred his horse straight at the Wu ranks.
“Brothers! Do not fear Wu’s miserable rats—!”
That thunderous roar and savage presence made the enemy soldiers who had been charging for an officer’s head falter.
“I am the Tiger King Shamoke—!!”
King of the tribes that ruled the Wuling highlands, his martial strength was by no means slight. Roaring like a tiger, Shamoke hurled himself upon the terrified Wu troops. Every swing of his mace sent officers and men flying.
“Die!”
Clang!
Someone burst in from the side and barred Shamoke’s path. A long scar ran from cheek to mouth—the fierce Wu general Zhou Tai.
“Do not get above yourself, barbarian.”
—Crash!
Mace and blade collided. Crash! Crash! The air rang with successive shock waves as the two men locked in close combat.
The raw power of an ethnic king like Shamoke was nothing to dismiss lightly. Meet that monstrous strength head-on and any sword would fail. Zhou Tai, counted among Wu’s foremost champions, knew it well. He let Shamoke’s crushing blows glance aside. The skill forged across countless battlefields was anything but ordinary.
“Damn it...!”
The confidence that had lit Shamoke’s face gave way to shock. No man who had clashed with him frontally had ever walked away whole. Cold sweat beaded on Shamoke’s brow as he struggled against Zhou Tai’s superior technique.
After several dozen fierce exchanges, a harsh scrape of steel rang out. Zhou Tai dragged his blade sideways; Shamoke’s balance broke completely.
—Slash!
Zhou Tai did not miss the opening. In a single stroke he severed Shamoke’s neck. A clean cutting sound, and the head spun into the air.
“Cut them all down.”
At Zhou Tai’s icy command the Wu soldiers surged upon the Wuling Man. Leaderless and thrown into chaos, the tribesmen were slaughtered in short order.
Meanwhile Fu Rong, leading a suicide detachment, smashed through the encirclement and fled for his life. He carved a bloody path and somehow reached the riverbank where the ships lay moored—only to find...
...Damn it.
The Shu vessels were already blazing under the torches of Wu soldiers.
“Are you the commander?”
The officer who had directed the burning of the ships strode toward Fu Rong. He cut a formidable figure—massive frame, armor caked in blood, the flames of the burning hulls rising like a wick behind him. The sight was enough to call a demon to mind.
“I am Ding Feng of Wu. You are outnumbered. Surrender.”
With the ships lost and every escape route sealed, Ding Feng offered Fu Rong the chance to yield.
“...Shut your mouth!”
Fu Rong wrenched an arrow from his own shoulder, fury blazing.
“Would a general of Han ever surrender to Wu’s dogs?!”
Veins standing out on his neck, he bellowed and charged straight at Ding Feng. Even with retreat cut off, he was resolved to fight to the last with every ounce of strength he possessed.
Yet, as with Shamoke, the match was hopeless. Slash! Exhausted, Fu Rong could not withstand Ding Feng’s crushing power.
“My thanks for the reinforcements. To be frank, I had been resenting how late the relief seemed...”
Sun Huan approached Ding Feng and offered quiet gratitude.
“Originally, after putting down the rebels, we meant to support the fire-attack force. Circumstances changed, so we diverted to relieve Yidu.”
Zhou Tai joined them as well, Shamoke’s head in hand.
“Then what orders has the Grand Commander given next?”
“General, continue holding Yidu—but turn the city’s troops over to us.”
The men under Ding Feng and Zhou Tai were spent from their forced march after suppressing the rebels. They intended to replenish their ranks with the garrison of Yidu and then carry out Lu Xun’s instructions.
“The Grand Commander has issued new orders. Once the Shu forces at Yidu are annihilated, go to the aid of General Zhu Ran.”
“Where is General Zhu Ran now?”
“He has set out for Ma’an Mountain.”
Zhu Ran, who had been operating as a detached force preparing the fire attack, had, on Lu Xun’s command, made a wide detour toward Ma’an Mountain.
“...Ma’an Mountain? Is that not the mountain near Zigui?”
“Yes.”
Zhou Tai nodded in confirmation of Sun Huan’s words.
“It would seem the Grand Commander has entrusted General Zhu Ran with a new stratagem as well.”
The Shu army struck the camps they had raised in the forest and established new fortifications near Ma’an Mountain, sited close to the riverbank for ready access to water.
The generals who had enjoyed victory after victory were far from pleased with the withdrawal. From their perspective they had been rolling forward in triumph when, citing the danger of fire and the unfavorable season, the army had been ordered to pull back.
Yet the remonstrance that forced the retreat had come from none other than Zhuge Liang. It carried a weight no mere officer of little formal power—Guan Suo—could ever match.
“Nanggun.”
“Po Sanniang. Thank you for yesterday.”
I was sincerely grateful. Helping set fire to our own army’s supplies was never an easy decision.
“It was bewildering, but I have aligned the story with the soldiers.”
A few days earlier I myself had set the forest ablaze. I had asked Po Sanniang and my retainers to gather dry tinder and firewood. Of course she and the men had questions, yet once I explained that the purpose was to demonstrate the peril of a fire attack, they ultimately complied.
Afterward I “pursued” nonexistent Wu scouts, kindled the blaze, and ordered the soldiers to link with the main Shu force so the fire could be extinguished swiftly. In the process the men witnessed how the wind made the flames race far faster than anyone expected.
Why do soldiers so often forget that fire attacks are a staple of Three Kingdoms warfare?
I suspect the reason is the same as it is for modern people. Fire is so commonplace that no one truly imagines the flames will rise around them.
At first I was on edge for fear of discovery, but Zhuge Liang’s letter arrived at just the right moment and everything went as planned.
With the chancellor’s timely warning, Liu Bei finally bent his stubborn will and withdrew the camps. Of course Zhuge Liang, through Fei Shi, left word that we were to speak later.
In this way we succeeded in dodging the fire attack that would have been Shu’s great catastrophe at Yiling.
Yet I cannot rest easy.
Liu Bei had chosen a strategic withdrawal so the troops could rest and reorganize. The problem was that he still had not abandoned revenge.
...Avoiding the Battle of Yiling entirely without losses seems impossible.
Had he made peace with Wu as my letter urged, the drain on national strength would have been almost nonexistent. We had escaped annihilation by fire as in the original history, yet one look at those eyes still rolling with the lust for vengeance made it clear there was no talking him out of it. He would only pull the army back after suffering a defeat.
I only hope Liu Bei remains in good health until Zhuge Liang’s northern campaigns can succeed...
The thought of Liu Bei falling ill and dying after Yiling, and of the emperor who would succeed him, already made my head throb.
While I was lost in thoughts of the future—
“Grand Commander!”
A sentry on watch came running toward Feng Xi, face urgent.
“What is it?”
“Wu forces have appeared in the rear!”
“What?”
...Wu forces in the rear?
I and the other generals alike turned in astonishment toward the rear. There a great banner bearing the character Lu fluttered in the wind.
The Wu army that had been holed up in Yiling had finally moved.