Chapter 6: A Prize of War

One day followed another, and always Sergeant Wen continued my training, and one day, when we were halted, he eyed me as we sparred.

“Hold, Princess,” he said, and he watched my face. “You have heard of the cold face, Princess. The warrior’s face, that gives nothing away.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” I said, for I had seen that face on my father, and my brothers, and on my master’s faces at Shaolin.

“The cold face, it has nothing to do with your muscles, or how well you fight with the sword or the bow. The cold face, it comes from the heart, and it is the knowledge that you will face death with nothing but contempt, for fear is beneath you. The secret of the cold face is that it is more than a mask your face wears. In learning the secret of the cold face, you learn an inner calm that is the conquest of your own body and your fear, and today, I will train you in the secret of the cold face.”

He eyed me, and his face was cold and hard. “If you wish, Princess.”

“You are my master, Sergeant Wen,” I said, and I was determined to learn this, for was I not a Princess, and destined to be the wife of a Khan. “And I am your student. Teach me.”

He eyed my face, and he nodded, once. “Mount and ride with me,” and our horses came at our whistle, and we mounted and rode out into the steppe, a dozen of my guards mounting and riding with us, and we rode until we came to the river near which we had camped.

“Turn your backs and do not watch the Princess, for she will be naked,” he said to the guards, and then, when they had done so, “Strip naked, Princess,” he said to me.

Without any embarrassment, he removed his clothing, and I was not embarrassed for we had lived together for two and a half long years, and at one time or another I had seen most of my men naked, although none but my maids had seen me so, not to my knowledge. His body was marked with old scars, red and puckered against the white of his skin under his clothing, and as I watched he walked into the freezing water, where the still pools were already covered with a thin sheet of ice.

I watched as he lowered himself into the water, and I knew how cold it was, for their was a film of ice on the surface, but the expression on his face did not change as he dipped his head beneath the surface, and then lay back, half floating, his hands holding the stones of the river bed, and he seemed completely at ease in the freezing water, his face calm, and his eyes looked towards me.

“Join me, Princess,” he said, and he watched me through that moment of indecision before I began to remove my clothes until I too was naked, and I walked naked into the water, and it was so cold that it burned, and I had to grit my jaws to stop my teeth from chattering as I sank slowly into the water, sitting waist deep in a still pool with ice around me, and I forced myself to breath as I slowly lay back until I was lying as Sergeant Wen was, and the cold was a fierce burning cold that penetrated to my very bones, burning and numbing together, and it was all I could do to stop myself from leaping to my feet and bolting to my clothes, for the pain of that cold was beyond anything I had experienced.

“In water this cold, a grown man becomes unconscious after a few hundred heartbeats,” Sergeant Wen said, and his voice spoke as he normally spoke when he was not issuing commands. “Your hands and your feet die first, growing numb and useless. Your thoughts become slow, and in time you will not have the strength to climb from the water, and then you will no longer feel the cold, and life slips away, your eyes close, and you will die.”

He watched me, watched my face. “Show me nothing of what you feel, Princess. Show me the cold face that you will show to your enemies who seek to anger you. Remember as you look at them that they too are afraid, every one of them, for no man is without fear, and knowing that, you can conceal your own fear and pain behind the cold face and stare them out of all countenance, for here you lie with death, Princess, and you feel death seeping into your body, sinking into your bones, and yet your face will show nothing.”

“Breathe gently now, Princess, slowing your heart, for the body is weak thing, and you do not need to listen to its cries for help. It is the mind that is strong, and let your mind’s strength come to you as you breathe, and your face shows nothing, you face shows nothing and you are empty of everything but your own will.”

I breathed, slowly, the cold burning into me as I lay there, and I was fast growing numb, byt my face remained calm, though it was a struggle.

“Your body pleads with you to feed its desires,” Sergeant Wen said. “It calls to you for food and warmth, for comfort and relief from pain, but you will shut those pleas out and you will find the cold face.”

I lay there, my mind empty, my face cold and unmoving, and at last Sergeant Wen sat upright, and reached for my hand, and I sat up, slowly, stiffly, and my skin was pale, but as I stood, my body burned with the flush of life returning, and the cold breeze was as the summer sun.

“Your body does not rule you, Princess,” Sergeant Wen said. “You rule your body, and your body is merely the horse that you ride. You control your body with your will, and when you take an arrow in battle, or a cut from a sword, and the pain overwhelms you, you will push that pain away as if it is nothing, and you will deal death to your enemies, and when you face an enemy, you will show them the cold face, for they are nothing to you.”

He smiled now, and offered me his flask of fermented mares milk, airag.

“Take a mouthful, Princess, and we will run to the top of this hill and back, and when we return here, you will spit the airag out to show me that you control your body.”

We ran, and on our return, I spat the airag out, and Sergeant Wen smiled as he spat his own mouthful out.

“We will do this again, tomorrow,” he said, and I smiled, for I knew that I could.

Onward we rode, and the land was empty. Bones we found, bones of people, and of horses and sheep, and the bones of burnt out yurts, but of the living there were none. Of wolves fattened from the eating, there were many, and they appeared well-fed, and it was if we rode through a desert devoid of people, and there should have been people, for these were the summer grazing grounds of the Western Rouran, and of our guides and our Rouran escort, there were fewer every day, and one morning there were none.

Captain Wang and I sat by the fire, drinking tea, and neither he nor I were sure of our course.

“We will not return,” I said. “And there are five hundred of us. We keep riding, for they are out here somewhere.”

The wheeling vultures in the distance, two weeks later, they were a warning, but we rode onwards, wearing our armor now, weapons at the ready, and as we rode over the ridgeline, we paused, for before us was a battle such as I had never seen, for in these years of travel, I had seen battles, but they had been raids.

This?

This was a battle such as my father had fought, with thousands of men on every side, and I tried to count them, but I could not, for there were masses of horsemen riding together, and they did not ride in ranks or columns as my father’s cavalrymen rode and his foot soldiers marched and fought. These were disorganized, masses of men riding together and now, as they closed, the flights of arrows began to arch through the air.

“The Rouran there,” Captain Wang pointed at the masses of horsemen to one side of the great valley ahead of us, and we no longer rode slowly forward, and he signaled the men to keep below the ridgeline. “And those are the Xiongnu, for them also I have fought, and I recognize the banners.”

“Who will win this fight?” I asked.

“Impossible to say,” Captain Wang said. “Best we ride from this place and leave them to it. The Rouran came from there.” He pointed. “We will circle round and ride hard in that direction.”

“Yes,” I said, for I was no Captain of soldiers, such as was Captain Wang, and we rode as he directed, hard and fast through the green grass that had not been grazed, and behind us the din of battle faded.

We came across a dozen Rouran stragglers two days later, and they did not run from us, for their horses were lame and exhausted, and their faces were set and grim, and their arrows were ready as we rode up.

“Who are you?” one of them asked, at the last, as we looked them over. “You are not Xiongnu?”

“No,” I said. “We are Xianbei, and we seek the Khan of the Western Rouran.”

“You are a woman?” he said, and his eyes widened. “You are she whom we were sent to seek, for word was sent that a Princess of Northern Wei had been sent to the Khan, but the word was that you were lost on the steppe, and the Khan sent men to search for you.”

“I am she,” I said. “But where is the Khan, for we have lost our guides, and we know where we are, but we know not where the Khan is.”

“The Khan is to the north,” he said. “We must ride, for all the tribes of the steppe have heard now of you, and of your dowry, and all seek you, Princess. The Xiongnu, the Gokturks, the Onugurs, the Sabirs, all have raiding parties scouring the grasslands for you.”

“Take fresh horses from ours, and guide us to the Khan,” I said, and they accepted.

“We lost the battle to the Xiongnu,” their leader said, and around us more Rouran riders were coalescing, a few here, a few there, for we rode hard and fast, and we had five horses for every man, each man leading his string, and we were Xianbei, and I could live now in the saddle as could my men, eating dried meat and drinking the water from our goatskins. “And that was but their advance guard.”

“I think we have found others,” Sergeant Wen said, reining his horse in, and ahead of us, a great line of riders sat on a ridge looking down on us.

“They are not Rouran,” the Rouran leader said, and he turned his horse and he fled, and his men and the other Rouran followed him, two hundred of them, but it did them no good, for the attackers split their force, a good part arrowing to cut the Rouran off, and more Xiongnu appeared around us wherever I looked, and I did not think the Rouran would survive, and my men prepared themselves for battle.

“We will negotiate,” I said. “If all are looking for me, in the end, one marriage is as good as another, and I will not have you spend your lives needlessly, for Northern Wei has fallen, and if we are captured, as it seems we are, I will not have broken my word.”

“It seems the Xiongnu do not care to negotiate, Princess,” Captain Wang said, dryly, and indeed they were advancing in a long line, bows in their hands, and they were notching arrows to the string as I looked.

“Let us then do our best to break through their lines,” I said. “For we are armored, and our horses are larger, and we have lances and swords besides our bows, and most of them have only bows.”

“It is our only chance,” Sergeant Wen said. “To punch through, hard and fast.”

Captain Wang nodded, already shouting orders, and the horns were sounding as my maid-servants closed up behind me, and they did that without orders, for maid-servants though they were, in the end, they too were of the Xianbei, and they had courage, warriors though they were not. Me, I unslung my shield, fastened my helm, strung my bow and uncovered my arrows as our men milled in devious disarray, and the Xiongnu arrows began to arch through the sky towards us, and all knew the tactic, for the horns had signaled what we would do.

I edged my horse forward, Sergeant Wen and my personal guards with me, and the Xiongnu were trotting towards us across the green grass, in no haste, for we were trapped and they outnumbered us by twenty to one.

“We’ve fought the Xiongnu before and driven them off,” one of the men said, spitting on the grass. “But they’ve got us surrounded this time.”

“Surrounded?” I laughed, and I remembered something my father had said once as a joke. “That makes it simple. They can’t get away from us this time.”

Sergeant Wen slapped his leg and laughed, and around me my words were repeated, and the laughter spread, until five hundred warriors of Northern Wei laughed, and our laughter was loud enough that the oncoming Xiongnu hesitated.

“Now,” Captain Wang bellowed, and the trumpets sounded, the banners were unfurled, and the last army of Northern Wei turned as one, forming into ranks as we rode into battle, far from family and home, loyal to their Princess, and I, I was at the forefront of the charge, for my horse was strong and I was light, and mine was the first arrow that flew, punching a Xiongnu warrior from his saddle, and the men had formed up on either side, a long spearpoint of horsemen launched at the enemy, and from either side of me, the arrows flew out, and every arrow punched a Xiongnu warrior from his saddle.

The men did not falter, not for a moment, the horns rang again and again, sounding the charge now, the sound of the hooves of our horses filled my ears, the battle-cries of our men, the arrows of the Xiongnu whining around my ears, and next to me a man grunted as an arrow ricocheted from his armor, and another thumped into my shield, but we wore mail, and they did not, and every one of our arrows punched a rider from the saddle, but few of my men fell, and the rhythm of the gallop coursed through my veins, and the Xiongnu now galloped towards us, and we were closing fast, and I shot my arrows, again and again, ten arrows in sixty beats of my heart, seeing the men go down as my points punched into them, and each of my men was as fast as I, or faster.

“Lances,” Sergeant Wen roared, and I fumbled sliding the bow into its case and dropped it, but my hand found my lance, and now I dropped back a little, for I did not have the strength of the men, and I was in the second rank as we punched into the Xiongnu with a crash of sound, and our chain mail and the size of our horses gave us the advantage, and my lance stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed again before it caught, and I released it, drawing my sword, cutting and slashing as I rode behind Sergeant Wen, and he was death.

Before him, the Xiongnu melted away, men falling like rain, and behind me, some of my guards were shooting past him, shooting through the gaps, as fast as they could draw and release, every arrow punching Xiongnu from their saddles, and we were cutting through them, and my fingers were slippery with blood, my blade coated red, and behind me the battle raged as my men followed my personal banner, the banner of the White Wolf, the Wolf Princess, for that was what my men had taken to calling me.

An arrow hit my shield, jarring me back, my sword struck, cutting through the bow that was raised in defence for this rider had not even a sword and I cut him down without hesitation, and another after him, and another, and I screamed in triumph as we burst into the open, and my men after me, those who had survived, and we had lost perhaps a third, but behind us the Xiongnu had fallen back, and one group of men, then another, fought their way out to rejoin us, and Captain Wang was at my side, an arrow shaft jutting from his shoulder, and his shield arm hung limp, but he was grinning, his teeth white.

“Over the ridge and away,” he commanded, and the horns sounded, and we turned and rode as one, three hundred soldiers of Northern Wei, bloodied and battered, but our horses were with us, and my maid-servants were behind me, eyes wide, faces pale, but some of them held bows and one held a bloodied sword, and my men shot arrows to our rear, into the Xiongnu behind us, and they followed, but slowly.

“Ride,” I commanded. “Ride,” but at the ridgeline, men hesitated, and when I joined them and looked down into the next valley, I saw why, and behind us the Xiongnu had regrouped in a great crescent around us, and the bodies strewn behind us on the slope of bloody grass were but a drop in the bucket to the horde we faced, and there were but three hundred of us.

“It’s a good a day to die as any,” Sergeant Wen said, and he wore not the cold face, but he was smiling.

“Guess it is, Sergeant,” Captain Wang said, and he looked at me, and we both knew there was no hope of escape, and the Xiongnu did not have the look of warriors who would take prisoners, for already they were trotting forward. “I beg for your forgiveness, Princess Yuan, that we are not able to protect you from these.”

“It is I who ask for your forgiveness, Captain,” I said. “You and all our men, for I thought not that this would be our end, but if it is to be, I will die beside you as a soldier of Wei.” But my heart was sad, for my father’s hopes for me had come to naught.

“You are a commander such as your father was, Wolf Princess,” Captain Wang smiled now. “And wished I that we could have served you for longer.”

He did not wait for a reply, but he raised his sword, and his voice bellowed out. “Let these Xiongnu know they face Xianbei on this day,” he cried. “Dress ranks.”

My horse moved to his side, and Sergeant Wen as at my right, and my personal banner, the banner of the White Wolf that had been sewn for me by my men, it was held by a man behind me as the men formed into three lines, and for a moment, all was still.

“Death,” Captain Wang called, and the horns sounded.

“Death,” the voices of three hundred soldiers of fallen Wei roared, and my own voice was amongst them, and “Death”, my maid-servants called, and every one of them now held a sword, and they too showed the spirit of the Xianbei, and I prayed to the Buddha to bless them as our horses began to trot down the long slope, and many of our men had arrows for their bows, for they were experienced soldiers, and they had not lost their bows as had I.

Once more the arrows flickered out, and a wounded soldier passed me his, and now I too was shooting, arrow after arrow as we trotted down that slope, and before us the Xiongnu melted away, but there was no end to them, but there was an end to our arrows, and my hand searched my quiver, but there were no more, and my lance was long gone.

Around me, others ran out of arrows too, and we drew our swords, as shaft after shaft from the Xiongnu hammered into our shields or our armor, and here and there a man fell, but there were so many of them before us that they could not resort to the favorite tactic of the steppe nomads, the retreat, as they continued to use their arrows against mounted men without the bow.

“Charge,” Captain Wang’s sword rose and fell, the horns sounded, and we urged our horses once more into the gallop, and they were strong horses, and they answered the call, and I remember that the wind was from the south, warm and scented with the green grass, and the sky was blue and without clouds, the sun warm on us at the last, and the thunder of our horses hooves, the battle cry of the men, my own battle cry, I remember every sound of that charge, and my horse under me, the great muscles bunching as he moved, and I was at the forefront of that charge, for if all my men were to die, I did not wish to live, and I would go to join my ancestors with my comrades, my shield-brothers, at my side, and I would go with honor.

“Death,” the men bellowed, and shields were raised, swords ready as we hammered into the first ranks of the Xiongnu, and it was red slaughter. Before me, who was behind Captain Wang and Sergeant Wen, horses went down, knocked off their feet, riders were swept from their horses’ backs, cut down by our swords and our lances, and their own swords hammered into our coats of iron rings, our chain mail, and our mail resisted their blows, as it should, for it was of the best that Northern Wei had made for its soldiers, and before us they crumpled and turned to flee.

Swords sank into backs, removed heads, chopped arms from bodies, sliced into unarmored legs, but beside me a man fell, an arrow buried to the feathers through his throat, but he cut one last time as he fell from his horse, and he took his man, and now I filled the gap, my sword rising and falling, as fast and as hard as I could strike, and with every blow, I cut through human flesh. With every blow, Xiongnu fell before me, and behind me, my guards fought to stay with me.