The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 6 – Part 5

Temüjin¹ surveyed the lie of the land, then pointed ahead and gave the order, “Up the mound and stand ready!” Though his escort numbered only a few hundred, every one of them was a fierce commander or a brave warrior. They galloped up the earthen mound, shifted stones and dug earth, and threw up cover against arrows.

Before long a great cloud of dust rose in the south as several thousand horsemen came hurrying up, with Chagatai² and Tchila’un³ galloping in front of them all. Jebe,⁴ keen-eyed, had already made out the pursuers’ banners, and he cried, “It really is Wang Khan’s⁵ army.” By now the pursuers had split into several columns, fanning out on every side to cut off Chagatai and Tchila’un. The two men crouched low over their saddles, whipping their mounts in a desperate gallop.

Jebe said, “Guo Jing, let’s go and bring them in.” The two of them spurred their horses down the earthen mound. The red horse beneath Guo Jing, sensing it was charging towards a herd of horses, surged forward with tremendous spirit, and in the blink of an eye it had carried him to Chagatai. Guo Jing fired three arrows in swift succession, swish, swish, swish, and toppled the three foremost pursuers, then charged on to put himself between the two men and their pursuers, turned in the saddle and shot dead one more. By now Jebe had come up too, loosing arrow after arrow, and every man in his path fell dead. But the pursuers were too many, surging forward like the tide, and how could the two of them hold them back?

Chagatai and Tchila’un each turned in their saddles and fired several arrows of their own, and all four of them, Jebe, Guo Jing, Chagatai and Tchila’un, retreated up the earthen mound. Temüjin and Muqali,⁶ Bo’orchu,⁷ Boroqul⁸ and the rest never wasted a single arrow, and for the moment the pursuers dared not press close.

Temüjin stood on the earthen mound and watched. After roughly the time it takes to milk two buckets of cow’s milk, he saw cavalry from Wang Khan’s forces billowing up from all four quarters, east, south, west and north, like dark clouds. Beneath a yellow banner rode a man on a tall horse, none other than Wang Khan’s son, Senggum.⁹ Temüjin knew there was no hope of breaking through the encirclement. All that remained was a stratagem to buy time. He raised his voice and called, “I ask my sworn younger brother Senggum to come over and speak with me.”

Senggum galloped up close to the mound in a ring of his personal guards, several dozen soldiers holding up iron shields before and behind him against stray arrows from above. Cock-a-hoop, Senggum shouted, “Temüjin, you’d better surrender.”

Temüjin said, “How have I offended my sworn father Wang Khan, that you send troops against me?”

Senggum said, “For generation after generation the Mongols have lived each tribe apart, their cattle and sheep held in common by the tribe. Why do you defy the law of our ancestors and insist on merging all the tribes into one? My father has often said that what you do is wrong.”

Temüjin’s voice rang out clear, “The Mongols are oppressed by the Jin Empire. The Jin demands that we pay tribute every year, tens of thousands of cattle, sheep and horses. Is that right? We are being driven to starvation by the Jin. If we Mongols would only stop fighting one another, you striking at me, I striking at you, why should we fear the Jin? My sworn father Wang Khan and I have always been on good terms. There is no quarrel between our two houses. It is the Jin Empire that sows discord between us.” The soldiers in Senggum’s ranks heard his words and every man was stirred. They felt he spoke the truth.

Temüjin continued, his voice still ringing, “Every Mongol is an able warrior. Why do we not go and take the Jin Empire’s gold and jewels? Why must we offer them livestock and furs year after year? Some among the Mongols are diligent herdsmen, others idle gluttons. Why should the diligent feed the lazy? Why should the diligent not keep more cattle and sheep for themselves, and the lazy go hungry?”

The Mongols at that time lived in a clan-based society, with livestock held in common by each tribe. In recent years the herds had grown and wealth had accumulated. Moreover, they had learned from the Han people of the Central Plains to use iron tools, and most of the herdsmen earnestly desired private ownership of their property. The warriors, who had fought campaign after campaign and won their captives and spoils with their very lives, were even less willing to share these with the old and infirm of the tribe who could not fight. And so when Temüjin spoke these words, every warrior present nodded silently in approval.

Seeing Temüjin stirring up the hearts of his own troops, Senggum barked, “Throw down your bows and arrows, your spears and blades, and surrender at once! Otherwise one point of my whip and ten thousand arrows will fly at once, and you need not hope to live!”

Guo Jing saw that the situation was desperate and did not know what to do. Then he spotted a young general at the foot of the hill, wearing silver-grey sable fur over his iron armour, a great dao in his hand, galloping to and fro on a fine horse and swaggering for all to see. Guo Jing looked hard and recognised him as Senggum’s son, Tusakha.¹⁰ As a boy Guo Jing had fought with him. This was the youth who had once tried to set the cheetahs on Tolui, a thoroughly bad lot. Guo Jing had no idea at all why Wang Khan, Senggum and Jamukha¹¹ should plot against Temüjin. He thought it must be that Tusakha, wicked as he was, had listened to the lies of the Jin Empire’s Sixth Prince and spread a tissue of falsehoods to do harm. If he could capture the boy and force him to confess his lies, then Wang Khan, Senggum and the rest would understand the truth and make peace again with the Great Khan Temüjin. So he clamped his legs to its flanks, and his little red horse charged down the hill at full speed.

While officers and men stood dumbfounded, the red horse, coming amazingly fast, had streaked through their ranks and reached Tusakha’s side.

Tusakha swung his dao in a desperate slash. Guo Jing ducked low over his saddle, and the great dao swept over his head. His right hand shot out and locked onto Tusakha’s left wrist at the pulse-gate. The grip was the Tendon-Splitting Bone-Dislocating Hand¹² that Zhu Cong had taught him. Tusakha could not so much as twitch. With a casual tug, Guo Jing hoisted him off his horse and slung him face-down across the saddle. At that very instant he felt a rush of wind behind him. He swept his left arm round to block two spears thrusting at him, and with a crack both spears went flying high into the air. His right knee touched the red horse lightly on the neck, and the little horse, knowing its master’s mind, turned and raced back up the mound, going up no less swiftly than it had come flying down. The officers at the foot of the hill cried in unison, “Fire your arrows!” Guo Jing lifted Tusakha aloft and held him as a shield behind his own back. The soldiers below dared not draw their bowstrings for fear of striking their young master. Guo Jing rode straight up the hill and flung Tusakha to the ground, calling, “Great Khan, this wicked boy must be the one who has been causing mischief. Make him confess.”

Temüjin was overjoyed. He pointed the tip of his iron spear at Tusakha’s chest and shouted towards Senggum, “Order your men to fall back a thousand feet.”

Senggum watched his beloved son snatched from the midst of his army with a swiftness that left no time to react. Furious and distraught, he had no choice but to comply. He withdrew his horsemen and ordered his troops to link their great wagons into rings, packed seven or eight deep around the mound. With such a barricade, even the swiftest mount could not break through.

Up on the hill Temüjin praised Guo Jing again and again, bidding him bind Tusakha’s hands behind his back with his belt.

Senggum sent three envoys up the hill in succession, each demanding that Temüjin release Tusakha before surrendering, at which point his life would be spared. Each time Temüjin cut off the envoy’s ears and drove him back down the hill. The standoff dragged on until the sun sank beyond the edge of the grasslands. Temüjin, fearing Senggum would launch a night charge, ordered every man to remain vigilant without the slightest laxity.

They held their watch until the middle of the night, when suddenly a figure dressed entirely in white appeared, walking on foot to the base of the hill. He called, “I am Jamukha. I wish to speak with my sworn brother Temüjin.”

Temüjin said, “Come up.”

Jamukha walked slowly up the hill. He saw Temüjin standing at the mouth of the pass, stern and commanding, and hurried forward to embrace him. Temüjin drew the dao at his side with a rasp and snarled, “Do you still count me your sworn brother?”

Jamukha sighed and sat down cross-legged. He said, “Sworn brother, you are already lord of a whole tribe. Why must you still harbour such ambition, trying to bind all the Mongols together?”

Temüjin said, “And what would you have me do?”

Jamukha said, “The chiefs of every tribe and clan all say that our ancestors have lived this way for hundreds of years, so why does Temüjin Khan want to change the old ways? Heaven itself would not allow it.”

Temüjin said, “Do you remember the story of our ancestor Lady Alan Qoa?¹³ Her five sons were at odds with one another. She cooked them a meal of salted mutton and gave each of them a single arrow, telling them to break it. They snapped them easily, one by one. Then she bundled all five arrows together and asked them to break the bundle. The five of them took turns, and not one could break it. Do you remember what she told her sons?”

Jamukha said in a low voice, “‘If you are scattered, each one alone, you are like a single arrow that anyone can snap. But if you are of one mind and one purpose, you are like five arrows bound together, and no one can break you.’”

Temüjin said, “Good. You remember. And what followed?”

Jamukha said, “After that her five sons united their strength and founded a mighty dominion, becoming the forefathers of the Mongol people.”

Temüjin said, “Indeed! You and I are both heroes and men of valour. Why do we not gather all the Mongols under one banner? Why not stop striking at each other, you at me, I at you, and instead join our strength to destroy the Jin Empire?”

Jamukha said, startled, “The Jin Empire has vast armies and countless generals. Their gold lies thick on the ground, their grain is piled like mountains. How can the Mongols hope to defy them?”

Temüjin snorted. “So you would rather we all go on being ground beneath the Jin’s heel?”

Jamukha said, “The Jin has not oppressed us. The Jin Emperor has bestowed upon you the title of Pacification Commissioner.”

Temüjin flared with anger. “At first I too thought the Jin Emperor acted in good faith. But their greed knows no bounds, constantly demanding this and that from us. First cattle and sheep, then horses. Now they want our warriors to fight their wars. The Song Empire lies far from our borders. Even if we conquered the Song, the lands we seized would belong to the Jin, not to us. What gain is there for us in spilling our warriors’ blood? Cattle and sheep that leave the green grass at their side to cross the mountains and gnaw at sand, who ever heard of such folly? If we fight, we fight only the Jin.”

Jamukha said, “Wang Khan and Senggum will not betray the Jin.”

Temüjin said, “Betray? Bah! And what of you?”

Jamukha said, “I have come to beg you, sworn brother, not to be angry, and to give Tusakha back to Senggum. I’ll stand surety that Senggum will let you all go home safely.”

Temüjin said, “I do not trust Senggum, and I do not trust you either.”

Jamukha said, “Senggum says that if one son dies he can still father two more, but if a Temüjin dies there will never be another Temüjin in the world! If you do not release Tusakha, you will not see tomorrow’s sun.”

Temüjin knew the hearts of Senggum and Jamukha well. If he fell into the hands of either, death was certain. If Wang Khan himself led the army, there might yet be a chance of survival after surrender. He raised his dao and cut the air with a whoosh, roaring, “Better to die fighting than surrender! The world will only ever see a Temüjin who died fighting, never a Temüjin who surrendered to his enemies!”

Jamukha rose to his feet. “When you were weak, you surrendered to enemies before. You took the cattle, sheep and captives you seized and distributed them to your soldiers, declaring them private property, not common to the tribe. The chiefs of every clan say that what you do is wrong and goes against the custom of our ancestors.”

Temüjin said fiercely, “Yet every young warrior approves. When the chieftains see the fine spoils of battle, they say there is no fair way to divide them among all, and so they take the best for themselves, whilst the warriors who fought and bled are left seething with resentment. In battle, do we rely on those muddled, greedy chieftains, or on our young, brave warriors?”

Jamukha said, “Sworn brother Temüjin, if you are set on going your own way and will not listen to the chieftains of the tribes, then do not accuse me of forgetting kindness and duty. These past days you have been sending men to lure away my followers, telling them that the spoils won in battle under your command belong to each man outright, and need not be shared among all. Do you think I do not know?”

Temüjin thought, If you already know of this, then there can never be peace between us again. He drew a small bundle from inside his robe and flung it down before Jamukha. “These are the gifts you gave me the three times we swore brotherhood. Take them back now. Later you can bring your steel dao down here.” He made a chopping motion at his own neck. “What you kill will be only an enemy, not a sworn brother.” He sighed. “I am a hero, and you are a hero. Yet the Mongol grasslands, vast as they are, cannot hold two heroes.”

Jamukha picked up the small bundle, and from his own bosom drew a leather pouch. He laid it at Temüjin’s feet without a word, turned and went down the hill.

Temüjin watched his retreating back for a long time in silence. Then he slowly opened the leather pouch and shook out the arrowheads and knuckle-bones they had played with as children. The scenes of those two boys playing together on the ice rose before his mind one after another. He sighed, and with his dao dug a hole in the ground and buried the tokens of their sworn brotherhood in it.

Guo Jing watched from nearby, his heart heavy too. He understood that what Temüjin was burying was, in truth, a friendship he held most dear.

Temüjin rose to his feet and gazed into the far distance. The campfires lit by Senggum’s and Jamukha’s men blazed across the grassland like a sky thick with stars, their combined might immense. He stood lost in thought for a moment, then turned his head and saw Guo Jing standing beside him. “Are you afraid?” he asked.

Guo Jing said, “I am thinking of my mother.”

Temüjin said, “You are a warrior. A fine warrior indeed.” He pointed at the scattered points of light in the distance. “They are warriors too. We Mongols have so many brave men among us, yet we are forever slaughtering one another. If only we all stood together,” and his eyes went to the far edge of the sky as he said proudly, “we could make every land the blue sky covers… into pasture for the Mongols!”

Guo Jing listened to these words of vast ambition and boundless vision, and he worshipped Temüjin more utterly than ever. He straightened his back and said, “Great Khan, we shall prevail. We will never be beaten by the craven and despicable Senggum.”

Temüjin’s spirit soared. “Right. Let us remember what we have said this night. If we do not die this time, I shall treat you as my own son from now on.” He gave Guo Jing a hug.

As they spoke the sky began to lighten, and from the ranks of Senggum and Jamukha came the low moan of war-horns.

Temüjin said, “No reinforcements are coming. We shall die fighting on this mound today.” From among the enemy wagons came the clatter of weapons and the whinnying of horses. The dawn assault was about to begin. Guo Jing suddenly said, “Great Khan, my red horse is very fast. Ride back and bring an army to fight. Your life is what matters. We will hold the enemy here and never surrender.”

Temüjin smiled and reached out to touch his head. “If Temüjin would abandon his friends and his generals and flee to save his own skin, then he would no longer be your great khan.”

Guo Jing said, “Yes, Great Khan. I spoke wrongly.”

Temüjin and his three sons, his generals and his personal guard lay in shelter behind the earthen mounds, arrow-tips aimed at every path leading up the hill.

After a while a yellow banner came out from Senggum’s ranks, and beneath it three men rode side by side to the foot of the mound. On the left was Senggum, on the right Jamukha, and in the middle, of all people, the Sixth Prince of the Great Jin, Prince Zhao, Wanyan Honglie.¹⁴ In golden helm and golden armour, a golden shield against arrows on his left arm, he shouted, “Temüjin, do you dare betray the Great Jin?”

Footnotes

1. 铁木真 — Tiěmùzhēn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 察合台 — Cháhétái. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 赤老温 — Chìlǎowēn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 哲别 — Zhébié. Literally spear and divine archer, in Mongolian. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

5. 王罕 — Wáng Hǎn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 木华黎 — Mùhuálí. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 博尔朮 — Bó’ěrshù. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

8. 博尔忽 — Bó’ěrhū. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 桑昆 — Sāngkūn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 都史 — Dūshǐ. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

11. 札木合 — Zhāmùhé. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

12. 分筋错骨手 — Fēnjīn Cuògǔ Shǒu. A method of seizing the joints and wrenching them out of place. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

13. 阿兰豁雅 — Ālán Huōyǎ. Alan Qoa, the legendary ancestress of the Mongols, remembered for the parable of the bundled arrows she taught her sons. ↩

14. 完颜洪烈 — Wányán Hóngliè. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩