Chapter 53: The Horns of the Hexi Cavalry

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Soon, the troops of Hexi Fort began to assemble! After annexing the populations of Sanhe Fort and Houzhai, the strength of Hexi Fort had greatly increased. Coupled with the return of a portion of Li Erjiang’s young and able-bodied men, Hexi Fort now had nearly six hundred men fit for mounted combat. This time, Li Xiao was preparing to lead four hundred men toward Tazhai, leaving the elder to guard with two hundred combatants, along with many elderly, weak, women, and children to prevent being lured away.

At the same time, Li Xiao sent word to Gushan Fort and Hedong Fort, ordering them to march to Tazhai early the next morning. With the Eastern Capital army approaching, Li Xiao needed to gather more troops—not only to relieve the crisis at Tazhai but also to show strength to the Khitan, competing for status and initiative. If the Eastern Capital generals were wise, they would avoid provoking the Han forces before dealing with the Gololu people. Conversely, if the Han forces appeared weak, they would be scorned by the Khitan, who might then allow other tribes to plunder Han forts to spur their nomadic allies.

In short, the tribe with greater strength and utility held higher status in the eyes of the Khitan.

“All men, three horses each. Check your weapons and fill your quivers,” Li Xiao bellowed, clad in leather armor on the grassland outside Hexi Fort. Beside him were two horses—one carrying his heavy armor, the other laden with dried meat, ten days’ rations, lances, and arrows. The others were similarly equipped, all in leather armor, their weapons sheathed when not in battle.

“Move out!”

At his command, four hundred cavalry charged swiftly toward Tazhai, following the setting sun. Ahead of them, Li Xiao had already sent scouts ten miles ahead to reconnoiter.

Tazhai! Driven mad by the killing of his son, Nierdu had unleashed all his forces, determined to break the fort at any cost.

“Nierdu, you’re insane!” a voice shouted amidst the assault. “Your tribe has suffered heavy losses. You should halt the attack immediately.”

Outside Tazhai, the five hundred soldiers of the Zhelan tribe pressed their attack desperately. Unfortunately, the ditch and battlements hindered their warhorses, forcing them to leave increasing numbers of bodies outside the trench.

Behind them, Nierdu’s face was grim and dark, his gaze fixed ahead, ignoring the Khitan’s warning. “Blood for blood. The Han killed my son; their blood shall repay it,” he said coldly, blood still staining his lips. The death of his favored son had filled him with wrath.

“As you can see, this Han tribe is not as weak as we imagined; their resistance is fierce,” another Khitan man scolded Nierdu with frustration. This man was Kuo Tu, stationed at Zhelan to oversee the troops and ensure obedience. Fluent in the Zhelan language, he was sent to prevent insubordination or laxity.

Originally, Kuo Tu had dismissed the attack on this Han tribe as mere plundering of cattle, sheep, and women—a minor skirmish. Such enthusiasm was only valuable if it mirrored their zeal against the Gololu. But now, seeing the tenacity of the Han and the heavy losses on both sides, he grew anxious. Weak Han forces were ‘labor-saving’; strong ones meant internal strife.

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After all, the Eastern Capital army’s real enemy was the Gololu. If the Zhelan suffered heavy casualties, how could they fight the Gololu?

“Enough talk. We won’t stop until this Han tribe falls today,” Nierdu declared, waving his hand. Losing some tribesmen was acceptable—as long as the backbone of the Zhelan remained intact. They could always capture slaves from other tribes afterward. Once those slaves grew obedient and merited merit, they naturally became Zhelan subjects.

“You—” Kuo Tu glared in anger but was helpless. “I will report all this to Lord Xiao Simo,” he said indignantly before storming off to make his report. Although Nierdu had bribed him generously, this matter was difficult to conceal.

...

Darkness deepened as the sun set, its final rays fading from the earth. At this moment, Hexi Fort’s cavalry was less than five miles from Tazhai. Their pace slowed due to Li Xiao’s caution.

“Looks like these nomads aren’t very bright,” Li Xiao murmured atop his horse, shaking his head. He had expected ambushes but found their minds stubborn and straightforward. Still, caution was prudent.

He glanced around; the night was pitch-black, visibility barely thirty yards, yet distant shouts and battle cries could be heard from Tazhai. The fighting was fierce.

Before the scouts returned, Li Xiao ordered, “Prepare for battle.”

The four hundred Hexi cavalry silently gripped their spears, readying themselves. Li Xiao and fifteen heavy cavalry donned their armor with comrades’ help.

Soon, three scouts returned, reporting: “Most enemies are on the western side of Tazhai, about three to four hundred strong. No other large forces within ten miles.”

Li Xiao, armored, turned to Zhao Dabao: “Looks like these are the vanguard of the Eastern Capital.”

“Four hundred dare besiege Tazhai? Do they think the Han of Jinzhou are helpless?” Zhao Dabao growled, spear in hand. “Da Long, let’s strike! Not one of those damned fools will escape.”

Li Xiao nodded, his expression cold. They had to deal a heavy blow to this Eastern Capital cavalry; otherwise, the Jinzhou Han would be easy prey.

He rallied the core forces of Hexi Fort: “Uncle Liu, take a hundred men around the enemy’s rear. Da Zhuang, take a hundred to block the southern approach to Tazhai. I will lead the remaining two hundred in a frontal assault.”

“Yes, sir.”

The four hundred Hexi cavalry split into three groups and swiftly advanced toward Tazhai.

...

Though night had fallen, the battle at Tazhai showed no sign of abating. The Zhelan pressed their assault, even using the cover of darkness to infiltrate weaker defenses, attempting to cross the ditch and battlements into the fort.

Fortunately, Zhao Tiezhu, experienced and resolute, held them off stubbornly.

“Hold fast, you brats! Reinforcements from the other three forts are almost here,” Zhao Tiezhu shouted, mounted and limited in movement. “Behind you are your wives and daughters; if you don’t want them disgraced, then stand your ground!”

His cloudy eyes scanned the darkness sharply, like a wolf’s gaze. Suddenly, he nocked an arrow and loosed it.

A scream pierced the night as a Zhelan warrior, attempting to enter the fort, was shot down immediately.

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At the other end of the village, a Zhelan slave clad in leather armor wielded a curved saber, directing other slaves.

“Hurry! Fill this ditch!” he shouted. “Master commands: whoever first breaches the fort is freed from slavery and rewarded with ten sheep!”

Inspired by these words, the slaves redoubled their efforts. They pushed a cart laden with stones and earth toward the ditch, braving Tazhai’s arrows.

Though many fell to the archers, as the ditch gradually filled and became shallower, the slaves’ excitement grew.

Their dream was to become free, modestly prosperous herders. Now, that dream seemed within reach.

“Charge!” the armored slave cried, barely containing his excitement. To an outsider, he might have seemed a Zhelan noble, yet he was merely a slave. Still, slaves had ranks depending on their masters. Like the Manchu’s baoyi slaves, some had status exceeding ordinary clan members.

This slave was Nierdu’s personal servant, enjoying a status surpassing many minor Zhelan nobles. Loyal and zealous in battle, he fought with fervor.

Just as these slaves prepared to cross the ditch and launch another large-scale assault, Nierdu suddenly ordered a retreat!

“What’s going on? Why retreat?” the Zhelan were bewildered. They were on the verge of breaking into the Han fort.

Unbeknownst to them, Nierdu had his own agonies. Scouts sent around had brought back troubling news—Han reinforcements had arrived!

“How many?” he demanded.

“The darkness makes it hard to see, but from the sounds, their numbers are no less than ours,” the scout said, terrified.

Originally three in number, the scouts were discovered while trying to gather more intelligence. Two companions were shot down by Han archers; the scout himself barely escaped.

Terrifying!

“Damn it! Retreat!” Nierdu reluctantly ordered, beginning a hasty withdrawal.

Meanwhile, Li Xiao watched an enemy scout flee and shook his head in resignation. He had hoped to launch a surprise attack before the Zhelan were prepared, but clearly, they were on alert.

Battlefields shift unpredictably; nothing ever goes perfectly.

But no matter—now that the Zhelan had been discovered, what of it?

Clad in scale armor, Li Xiao swung his lance toward the Zhelan lines and shouted, “Light all the torches! Attack!”