When it comes to surviving a night raid in wartime, the core rule is simple above all else. Hold your defensive line no matter what.
No matter how terrifying the darkness may feel, remember this. You are the one sitting inside your own fortified camp. You already hold the ground. That advantage stays yours as long as your troops do not lose their heads and run everywhere like chickens that just saw a fox.
If a commander can keep the perimeter secured and stop his men from scrambling about aimlessly and trampling one another, the attackers will burn through their momentum all on their own. They will eventually fall back and vanish into the night. And if luck is on your side, you can even beat them into the ground while they are busy being tired and confused.
But if your men panic? If they start screaming and running in circles? Congratulations, you have just done half the enemy's work for them. They do not even need to fight you anymore. They can just sit back, enjoy the show, and watch you destroy yourselves.
This was defensive warfare 101.
Xiahou Yuan's eyes flew wide open.
Not slowly. Not with drowsy blinking or lazy stretching. One moment he was deep asleep and the next he was fully alert and ready to fight, jolted awake like someone dragged straight out of a rushing river. His hand closed around the sword resting beside his bed before his mind even registered the sound that woke him. It was the low rolling thud of war drums and they did not belong to his army.
He swung his legs over the edge of the cot. His bare feet hit the frozen ground and he hissed sharply. Cold. Bitter biting cold. He paid it no mind. His hands were already moving.
Armor. Light set. The leather and bronze pieces he kept ready for exactly this kind of moment. His fingers found the buckles in the dark. He fumbled once caught them and pulled tight. Chest plate went on. Shoulder guards too. He skipped the heavy iron thigh guards and the full greaves. No time. Strapping those on properly took three minutes and three minutes was a luxury he could not afford.
His hand found his helmet.
Ah that helmet. The one his officers politely chose never to mention. The one with three tall plumes. Red gold and black feathers fanning from the crown like some very proud bold rooster. It made him visible from three hundred paces in any direction. He wore it on purpose because it was impossible to miss.
He shoved it onto his head. The chin strap caught in his stubble. He pulled it free buckled it tight beneath his jaw and kicked the tent flap wide open.
The cold hit him like a solid wall. The noise hit him like a second wall right after it.
The central camp was in utter chaos. Men running every which way. Torches flickering and sputtering in the wind. Somewhere toward the east a tent burned. It was fully ablaze canvas glowing bright orange against the dark sky and shadowy figures of terrified soldiers scrambling away from the flames. The drums still boomed. Enemy drums. And beneath that sound came the unmistakable voice of Zhang Fei carrying across the dark like a shouting trumpet with a personal grudge.
Xiahou Yuan took two steps forward and nearly walked straight into two men rushing toward him.
Zhang Ji and Du Xi. Both half dressed in their armor. Both staring wide eyed. Zhang Ji had his helmet on backward. Du Xi had lost one boot somewhere.
"General" Zhang Ji began.
"Drums" Xiahou Yuan said. It was not a suggestion or a request. Just one word flat and hard as a hammer blow. He pointed toward the signal platforms to the north. "Go to the platforms. Beat the assembly rhythm. Now."
Zhang Ji opened his mouth and then closed it again. His mind still racing on pure adrenaline and fear latched onto the order like a drowning man grasping a rope. He turned sharply and ran. He actually ran. With one boot on and one foot bare he sprinted across the frozen ground toward the drum stands. He ran with the desperate speed of a man who knew full well that the next sixty seconds would decide whether this army held together or tore apart completely.
Du Xi stood swaying slightly on his feet, one boot in place and one bare foot sunk deep into cold mud.
"General the eastern flank"
"I know." Xiahou Yuan was already stepping past him, scanning the spreading chaos, sorting instantly what could be fixed right now and what would have to resolve on its own. "Bring up the headquarters guard. Full strength. I want them formed around the main banner pole within two minutes."
He reached out and caught a rushing soldier by the shoulder. The boy looked barely seventeen, running without weapon or direction, eyes wide and white in the flickering glow.
"You." Xiahou Yuan held him firmly in place. "Open the oil stores and the wood piles. Light everything. Every torch every brazier every fire pit in this camp. I want it all lit right now. If any sergeant asks say I gave the order. If the quartermaster complains tell him I will repay every drop of oil. Go."
The boy ran. Xiahou Yuan released him and kept walking.
His guard unit was already forming. Forty men grim faced and fully armored moving with sharp practiced discipline. They took their places around him without needing further orders. Their captain a scarred veteran named Chen stepped up beside him.
"General the banner?"
"Raise it here. Right in the center. Hoist it high so every man in this camp can see it clearly."
Captain Chen shouted the order. Two guards hauled the great command banner from its case. The character for Xiahou woven in bright gold thread against black silk, eight feet tall and unmistakable. They drove the heavy base into the frozen earth with solid blows. Thud. Thud. Thud. The banner rose and caught the wind snapping straight and proud.
All around them fires were being kindled. The young soldier had done exactly as told. Torches flared all along the perimeter. Braziers blazed to life. Fire pits that had been cold and dark only an hour earlier now roared bright casting harsh flickering orange light across the camp. Enough light to see clearly. Enough light to stop men stumbling blindly in fear.
Xiahou Yuan walked toward the observation tower.
It stood near the camp center. A wooden platform raised twenty feet above the ground on heavy timber posts. He took the stairs two at a time, his boots striking hard against frozen wood. Above him his tall plumed helmet caught the glow from below. Red gold and black feathers streaming proudly in the wind. It looked ridiculous. It looked magnificent.
He reached the top. Stepped firmly onto the platform. Gripped the wooden railing.
Down below the camp still swarmed with confusion. But it was slowing. Men stopped in their tracks. Turned around. Looked upward.
They saw the banner first. The golden character for Xiahou snapping against the wind lit clearly from below by a dozen burning braziers. Then they saw the helmet. That tall unmistakable three plumed crest standing proud above the tower railing bobbing slightly like a fierce rooster looking down over his flock.
The general is here. The general is awake. The general has not run away.
Xiahou Yuan did not shout. He did not need to. He turned to Captain Chen who had followed him up the steps.
"First cohort form a shield wall along the eastern edge. Second cohort gather all scattered men from the southern tents and form them up behind the supply wagons. Third cohort archers move to the northern palisade. Anyone without a weapon draw spears from the reserve racks. Anyone uncertain where to go send them to the eastern wall."
Captain Chen turned toward the guards below. Drew a deep breath. And roared.
"FIRST COHORT! SHIELD WALL! EASTERN EDGE! MOVE NOW!"
The order swept outward. Guards shouting to sergeants. Sergeants shouting to corporals. Corporals shouting to every soldier within earshot. The chain of command broken and scattered only moments earlier was knitting itself back together link by link voice by voice.
High above it all Xiahou Yuan stood silent and still upon his tower. Firelight gleaming on his absurd helmet. Wind whipping at his cloak. One steady unmoving point in the middle of swirling chaos. A lighthouse burning bright through storm and dark.
He did not need to shout orders. He only needed to be seen.
Down below a group of terrified soldiers running from the southern area stopped in their tracks. They looked up. They saw the tall waving plumes. They saw the banner. They saw the silhouette of their commander standing tall and upright standing right there standing as though the world around him was not falling apart.
One man pointed upward. "That is the General! He is on the tower!"
Another snatched up his spear from the ground. "Form ranks! Gather behind the supply wagons! You heard the order!"
The wild running stopped. The shouting changed tone. Shifted from blind panic to sharp purpose. From running for their lives to standing and fighting.
Xiahou Yuan watched it take shape. Watched confusion slowly turn back into something resembling order. His jaw was set firm. His hands rested steady upon the railing.
Good he thought. Now hold. Just hold your ground until I see exactly what that madman Zhang Fei is actually planning to do.
The enemy drums kept thumping. Zhang Fei's voice still rolled across the dark distance like approaching thunder.
Xiahou Yuan tilted his head slightly. Listened. Counted the rhythm.
Three beats. Pause. Two beats. Pause. Three beats.
It was the assembly call. Zhang Fei was not attacking yet. Not right now. He was gathering his own troops. Forming his ranks. Making ready.
Which meant Xiahou Yuan still had time. Perhaps five minutes. Perhaps ten.
He turned back to Captain Chen.
"Send a rider to Zhang Ji. Tell him to switch the signal to defensive cadence. And bring me Du Xi. I want a full report on the eastern flank before I decide whether to march out and fight Zhang Fei or simply wait and let him freeze out there in the cold."
Captain Chen grinned broadly in the firelight. "At once General."
Xiahou Yuan turned back to face the darkness toward the east. Somewhere out there Zhang Fei was still shouting. Somewhere out there an army was forming in the dark.
He reached up and adjusted his helmet. Straightened his three proud plumes.
Come on then, he thought. I am awake. I have lit the whole camp. I am standing right here waiting for you.
Come and try.
From his perch on the watchtower, Xiahou Yuan watched his counter-measures take effect. Like a spark catching dry tinder, the perimeter of torches began expanding outward from his position. The light pushed back the darkness. The drums pounded with reassuring rhythm. The coordinated shouts of his guards cut through the chaos like knives through fog.
Slowly but surely, the blind panic that had infected his army began to burn away. Men stopped running. Stopped screaming. Started turning back toward the banner, toward the sight of their general standing tall above them. The chain of command, shattered only minutes ago, was knitting itself back together link by link, voice by voice.
Xiahou Yuan let out a slow breath, watching it plume white in the freezing air. This was how a disciplined army was supposed to function. This was what years of drilling and training were supposed to produce.
As long as the defensive formations kept stabilizing, those rebel raiders would have no choice but to retreat back into the mud. Zhang Fei was many things, but he was not stupid enough to launch a full assault against a camp that had regained its composure.
The thought settled. Then another followed close behind.
Once they survived this night, Xiahou Yuan realized he would have to seriously reconsider Du Xi's irritating logical proposal for a tactical withdrawal. The man talked too much and took too long to get to the point. But he was not wrong.
This siege was going nowhere. The cold was killing them slowly. And if Zhang Fei was bold enough to launch a night raid like this, it meant the defenders inside Linwei were not as desperate as Xiahou Yuan had hoped. They were confident. Confident enough to strike first.
Xiahou Yuan gripped the railing and stared eastward into the darkness, waiting for whatever Zhang Fei had planned next.
One thing at a time, he told himself. Survive tonight. Think about running tomorrow.
In all honesty, Du Xi was correct.
Their offensive campaign against Linwei's dirt walls had stalled, and strategic retreat was the only sane option left.
They could fall back and establish a fortified perimeter around the chokepoints of Chencang and Yong County.
By locking down those two bottlenecks, they could permanently seal off the only viable invasion routes the Yongzhou and Liangzhou armies could use to push into Guanzhong. Block the river valley route and the Jieting corridor simultaneously.
They just needed to hold the line and wait. Wait for his cousin, Cao Cao, to finish slaughtering Guan Yu down in Jingzhou and avenge Cao Hong's death. Once Cao Cao freed up his central army, he could march west, crush the rebels, and snatch Hanzhong back from Liu Bei.
It was a flawless, conservative, logical strategic roadmap.
Except, the second the phantom echo of Zhang Fei's voice replayed in his mind, an uncontrollable surge of pure hatred erupted in Xiahou Yuan's chest. Adding insult to injury, the stab wound near his vital organs throbbed with dull, sickening pain.
Zhang Fei. That absolute bastard had truly tried to kill me. Not just wound me. Not just scare me off. Kill me. Right there on the wall. With his own two hands. Unforgivable.
And because of this deeply personal grudge, Xiahou Yuan was forced to admit the awkward truth. Fully thirty percent of his stubborn refusal to lift the siege at Linwei came down to pure unyielding pride.
Yet staring at the bitter cold all around him, Xiahou Yuan knew pride had its limits. The time for ego was done. He had no choice but to retreat.
Thanks to the steady supply lines arranged with the Sun clan in Jiangdong, their food stores remained secure. But the one resource they truly needed to survive a northern winter had run completely dry. They were out of charcoal. Not a scrap left. Now on top of freezing they had just endured a night raid. Morale had hit rock bottom and kept on falling. Even if he drove his shivering troops to hurl themselves again at Linwei's earthen walls all they would truly accomplish was inflate Zhang Fei's already enormous pride.
Standing high upon the watchtower Xiahou Yuan felt a sudden strange sense of helplessness. He had never been the kind of commander who could shout loud enough to rally an army all on his own. Worse he was still recovering from a wound that very nearly killed him. Right now his only real use was standing there in full armor like some decorated statue. He stood and hoped his tall plumed crest alone would somehow pour courage back into his freezing men.
Then that fragile comfort broke apart. Every hardened instinct in his head screamed one clear warning. Something was very wrong.
More torches had been lit across the camp. The drums beat steady and strong to keep ranks from breaking. A raid should have faltered and faded by now. The attackers should be pulling back. So why did the sickening wet sound of blade meeting flesh keep growing louder right near the main gate?
A few agonizing seconds later a breathless messenger came stumbling and running through frozen mud toward the tower. Whether his boots had frozen solid or sheer terror had unsteadied him Xiahou Yuan watched the poor soldier trip and fall face first straight into a puddle of slush.
Before the man could even scramble back to his knees to speak Xiahou Yuan heard it again. That unmistakable earth shaking roar. Zhang Fei's voice boomed across the camp like a physical blow.
"THE MAIN GATE IS BROKEN! THE CAO ARMY IS FALLING!"
The main gate. Xiahou Yuan leaned far over the railing ignoring the wind that stung his face. "Have we lost the gate?" he demanded sharply.
Two guards hauled the trembling messenger out of the mud. He collapsed immediately and bowed low in desperate urgency.
"General!" the messenger cried, his voice cracking with fear. "The rebels have broken through the perimeter! They are cutting their way inside!"
They were actually pushing in. Xiahou Yuan's heart sank. This was sheer tactical madness. Had Zhang Fei lost every scrap of his mind? Was he truly driving his men into brutal close quarters fighting in this freezing nightmare? Was the man actually willing to throw away his entire vanguard just for a single chance at killing me?
A sharp realization flashed through Xiahou Yuan's mind. But he was a seasoned commander. He would not let panic show on his weathered face. He locked his emotions down, processed the situation, and made his decision.
"Move the command banner forward," Xiahou Yuan ordered sharply. "We advance."
That single order meant one thing. They were counterattacking. He had no idea what strange power Zhang Fei was using to make his soldiers ignore the biting cold. None of that mattered right now. Their first and only priority was to drive the enemy back from the gate. If hostile troops could simply walk into a fortified camp as though strolling through a market then the very idea of defense meant nothing at all.
His elite guards understood the weight of the order instantly. No one questioned it. Runners carried the word throughout the camp.
Since they were marching out into frozen darkness to fight hand to hand his guards hurriedly draped thick furs and heavy winter coats right over his iron armor to shield him from the cold.
Not far away and high atop the great drum platform Du Xi gripped his colleague's shoulder.
"Derong, look!" Du Xi shouted to be heard above the chaos. "General Xiahou is moving the central banner toward the front line!"
From their elevated position they had a clear view of every shift and movement below.
Zhang Ji however was entirely lost in his work and paid him no mind. He swung his heavy drumsticks hard and fast beating a frantic rhythm against the oxhide drum. So focused was he on the rhythm that he missed the heavy dread weighing in Du Xi's voice.
Du Xi meanwhile had already pieced together something no one else had yet seen. He spoke half to himself his eyes never leaving the camp below.
"You see Derong everyone looks at Zhang Fei and sees nothing but a brute. A shouting wildman with a spear who solves every problem by smashing it until it breaks. And there is truth to that. A great deal of truth. But he is also a veteran commander. And a clever one. He has seen more wars than most of our officers have years of life. He knows how to read a field. He knows when to press and when to fall back. He knows exactly how to bait an enemy into making a fatal mistake."
Du Xi fell silent his brow furrowing deeper.
"So think on this Derong. Zhang Fei launches a raid in freezing cold. He loses the element of surprise and still he does not retreat. What does that tell you? It tells you he holds a card he is certain will win. Something he has and we do not. And I cannot see what it is. That is what frightens me. I have studied every text. I know every stratagem and every trick written down. But Zhang Fei is not following the book. He is out there in the cold dark doing something that makes no sense at all unless he knows something we do not."
He turned to Zhang Ji his face pale with foreboding.
"Whatever that something is Derong I have a terrible feeling it will decide the outcome of this entire campaign."
Zhang Ji finally paused in his drumming and glanced over flatly. "General you talk far too much," he said simply.
---
Wrapped in heavy furs over full armor Xiahou Yuan swung onto his warhorse and drew one deep breath of freezing air. The sharp cold burned into his chest and his body shuddered uncontrollably.
But in the next instant hot fury rose up and burned the chill away. He reserved that rage for one man alone. Zhang Fei.
Xiahou Yuan squeezed his mount's flanks with iron boots and began riding slowly forward. Behind him his guard unit held steady and moved as one straight toward the slaughter raging at the gate.
Clad in armor and furs and sitting tall upon his stallion he made an unmistakable imposing figure. He was a living beacon of authority. Seeing him ride out steadied the fleeing soldiers instantly. They turned and reformed their ranks and followed him straight back into the fight.
As he rode he heard the wretched sound of men shivering and sneezing all around him. It gnawed at his chest. He had to drive Zhang Fei from this camp and he had to do it now.
The moment his elite reserves crashed into the front line the exhausted Cao troops fighting there found a sudden surge of desperate strength. They fought with the ferocity of beasts cornered at bay.
One Cao soldier threw his spear aside and launched himself through the air aiming to tackle Zhang Fei and drag him down into the mud. Before he could reach his target Fan Jiang stepped in. A curved iron hook fixed to his left arm caught the man mid flight and tore a great chunk of flesh away. The cold had numbed every nerve so the soldier made no sound as he fell. He only moved slower now, mortally wounded but still upright.
Zhang Da stepped forward into that opening. He swung a heavy steel sword with both hands in a sweeping blow that cut the man down where he stood. The threat ended in an instant.
Zhang Fei fought on in perfect silence and total focus. In his hands he carried a short iron spear balanced perfectly for close quarters slaughter. The heavy shaft whipped through the air with terrifying speed and a low sharp hum. One sweeping horizontal strike shattered the bones of three men at once and hurled them reeling back into the mud.
"General!" Fan Jiang shouted. He had spotted the great armored figure riding toward them.
Zhang Fei's reply was short and fierce. "Follow me and cut straight through."
Xiahou Yuan had ridden out expecting to force a quick end to the fight. He was stunned to realize Zhang Fei was even more eager to meet him than he was.
The moment their eyes met Xiahou Yuan watched the rebel general sweep his spear again and send a dozen armored men tumbling like wooden pins.
Then disregarding every rule of war Zhang Fei locked eyes with him and charged straight for his horse.
Xiahou Yuan did not flinch. He sat motionless as a statue. No shouted order was needed. His guards reacted on pure instinct.
In perfect unison, the guards surged forward and threw themselves into the gap.
A wall of flesh and steel snapped into place between their commander and the charging warrior.
Alright, Zhang Fei. We all know you're strong. But this is close quarters fighting, packed tight at the gate. Did you really think you were the equal of Xiang Yu? Arrogant bastard.
And then Xiahou Yuan saw it. A fatal mistake. In his rush to reach him, Zhang Fei had outrun every one of his own men. He was completely cut off from support.
Xiahou Yuan gave his order, cold and sharp.
"Cut off his retreat. Surround this dog and kill him."
Zhang Fei had already proven he would not hesitate to kill Xiahou Yuan if given the chance. So all rules of courtesy were cast aside. Every frustration and grievance of the past weeks drove that command. Xiahou Yuan meant to end this tonight.
But battlefields rarely obeyed the neat calculations drawn up on a map.
Xiahou Yuan had reasoned that even if Zhang Fei could fight a hundred men at once he could not be greater than Xiang Yu.
And if Xiang Yu himself could be surrounded and slain then Zhang Fei trapped in this narrow space should fall in minutes.
Within seconds he knew his reasoning had been terribly wrong.
First they were packed tight in the narrow gateway. Numbers meant nothing here. Only a handful of guards could close in at any one time.
Second Zhang Fei moved through the press with terrifying speed and grace. His spear blurred so fast the eye could scarcely follow it. He showed no sign of slowing. He cut and thrust his way steadily closer, drawing ever nearer to Xiahou Yuan where he sat upon his horse.
Xiahou Yuan narrowed his eyes and a cold sickening realization struck him like a blow.
It was not that Zhang Fei moved with supernatural speed. It was that his own men moved with the slow clumsiness of men half frozen to death. These poor soldiers had been torn rudely from their cold tents. They had been shivering in their sleep dreaming only of dawn and a single warm bowl of porridge. Instead they were thrown into deadly combat while starving and freezing. To expect such men to fight at their best was pure foolishness.
Watching closely Xiahou Yuan saw his finest guards trembling at the knees. It was not fear that weakened them. The bitter cold was literally slowing their bodies and dulling their nerves.
Yet Zhang Fei and his raiders seemed to burn with a different fire entirely. Their faces glowed bright red with heat. Steam rose visibly from their heads. They moved as though the biting cold did not exist at all.
Alarm bells screamed in Xiahou Yuan's mind. But he knew he had no choice. He had spent every moment since the raid began pulling his army back from the edge of total panic. If he turned and fled now the sight of their commander running would shatter morale completely and the whole camp would tear itself apart.
He watched Zhang Fei cut his way through the last line of guards drawing closer with every step. And strangely a cold calm settled over him.
He cast aside all thought and drew his heavy blade. He pointed the tip straight at Zhang Fei and roared for the first time that night.
"STAND AND FIGHT! NOT ONE STEP BACK!"
The desperate order burned into every guard's heart. They roared back in unison their voices cracking in the wind.
"STAND AND FIGHT! NOT ONE STEP BACK!"
They did not merely shout. They obeyed.
Knowing their frozen limbs could not match Zhang Fei's speed they chose a terrible remedy. They turned their own bodies into shields. They ignored the flashing spear and threw themselves directly upon its point. As it pierced them they wrapped their arms and legs around him clinging on with all their weight to drag him down and give their comrades one opening.
That dreadful resolve turned the fight. Zhang Fei found men rushing to die just to slow him. They met his blows as though they were nothing.
Within moments his spear became stuck fast pinned between the bodies of two dead guards. He was forced to abandon it.
But losing a weapon was no great loss to a man like Zhang Fei. His jaw set hard and his great muscles bulged beneath his armor. With a burst of terrifying strength he tore the bodies away and cast them aside like broken dolls.
In the same motion he seized a soldier by the wrist, snapped it, and snatched the man's heavy sword. He lifted his eyes and locked them straight onto Xiahou Yuan. His rage and hunger to kill were plain to see. But those few moments had been enough. A solid wall of soldiers now stood between them.
"GENERAL!" Fan Jiang's voice cut through the din sharp with alarm.
The shout pulled Zhang Fei's gaze away for just an instant.
That desperate stand had bought time but it had spelled ruin for Fan Jiang and Zhang Da. The small band that had charged in with Zhang Fei had struck a wall of iron. Half were already cut down. The rest were hard pressed and could not push forward a single pace.
Zhang Fei glared at Xiahou Yuan with venom in his eyes. He ground his teeth and made his choice. He turned and fought his way back to rescue his men.
Xiahou Yuan burned with killing intent. Zhang Fei had been driven back yes. But the price of that small victory had been the lives of his bravest and most loyal guards.
Worse still as Zhang Fei cut his way out Xiahou Yuan knew his freezing sluggish troops could not pursue. They had no strength left to chase him.
And the most terrible thought hung over every man who survived. If Zhang Fei could strike such destruction tonight there was nothing to stop him returning tomorrow night and doing it all over again.
With Zhang Fei's rush halted the bloody raid finally ground to an uneasy silence.
---
When morning came the pale freezing sun rose over a camp that looked beaten and broken.
Du Xi had spent the whole night twisted in knots of anxiety. Now at last the order came. It was exactly what he had dreaded and yet strangely what he had hoped to hear. Xiahou Yuan looked worn thin as he spoke.
"We pull back to hold Chencang."
Xiahou Yuan stared across at Linwei and its earthen walls still standing untouched and whole. Ached to see it. It felt as though his heart itself was bleeding. He had gone over the casualty counts from the night before. The numbers were dreadful.
But barely an hour later a breathless rider galloped into the command tent. And Xiahou Yuan realized his heart had not truly begun to break yet.
Du Xi stood up so fast he knocked his stool over. He stared at the messenger in disbelief.
"Chencang has fallen?" he repeated. His voice cracked.
Du Xi knew the maps. He knew every route and every troop disposition across the whole of Guanzhong. He did not waste time on polite words. He demanded the truth straight away.
"Where on earth is General Zhang He?"
The Guanzhong region was tight, squeezed between mountains and rivers. There were only two ways through. The main road lay right where they were camped. So how the hell had an entire army slipped past them to strike from behind?
The messenger stayed bowed face pressed into the dirt.
But his report came clear and dreadful.
"The rebels broke through Jieting Pass. General Zhang He was heavily outnumbered. He fought several sharp actions saw he could not hold and withdrew to Yong County. Then a column of more than fifteen thousand elite cavalry swept past our lines and struck Chencang by surprise. General Zhang He tried desperately to send reinforcements but they were beaten back. The defenses broke. Chencang is entirely in enemy hands."
Du Xi felt the world spin beneath him. His head swam. And one name blazed in his mind.
Zhao Yun.
No one else could have pulled off such a strike. It had to be the legendary Zhao Yun leading his veteran cavalry with Ma Chao's fierce and restless Qiang riders sweeping in support.
Ma Chao himself was an arrogant chieftain who had been beaten before. His Qiang warriors were brave enough when odds were in their favor but they would not execute such a precise and daring maneuver. This blow was too clean too sharp too perfectly timed. It bore the mark of Zhao Yun alone.
And as Du Xi pictured the force that had struck Chencang one dreadful thought settled over him.
The Xiliang Iron Cavalry.
A cold dread ran down his spine and froze him through and through.
His legs turned weak and he sank slowly back onto his stool.
He sat there still and pale paralyzed by what it all meant.
But at the head of the table Xiahou Yuan showed exactly why he was a veteran commander respected by all and why he had survived so many wars. While lesser men might have crumbled he took in the dreadful news and reached his decision in less than three seconds.
"Sound the alarm and break camp at once!" Xiahou Yuan roared. His eyes burned bright with fury. "We leave all siege equipment behind. Burn every supply we cannot carry. Abandon the heavy wagons. We march east at full speed. We must retake Chencang no matter the cost."
It seemed however that the heavens themselves had decided to ruin him this day.
Barely had the order left his mouth when another messenger burst through the tent flap gasping for breath.
"General!" the man cried. "The troops inside Linwei have thrown the gates wide open. Every man of them is marching out. They are forming up for battle right before our camp."
Xiahou Yuan stared at the messenger in silence for a long moment. Then a harsh wild laugh tore from his throat.
"Those insolent fools are outnumbered," he snarled. His face twisted in rage. "Do they truly think because they pulled off one sneaky raid in the dark they can march out here and dare face our main army in broad daylight?"
He kicked the map table sending markers scattering everywhere.
"Call off the retreat. Form the infantry line." Xiahou Yuan roared loud enough to shake the tent poles. "We march out and cut this Zhang Fei down. Once his head hangs from a pike we turn east retake Chencang and teach that arrogant boy Ma Chao a lesson he will never forget."
Inside the tent Xiahou Yuan seemed a force of nature. He strode about shouting orders every inch the bold and unyielding commander.
But fifteen minutes later when he rode out to the front and saw the army arrayed before him his voice died in his throat. He fell utterly silent. The color drained from his face leaving him pale as death.
---
Out across the frozen mud-slicked field Zhang Fei sat slouched comfortably in his saddle. He rubbed at his eyes looking thoroughly bored and barely awake.
"I will say this plainly" Zhang Fei's great voice rolled clear across the valley. "That bitter fiery cinnamon twig brew Doctor Zhang forced on us is nothing short of a miracle medicine. I downed three great bowls dumped in a good measure of fine sugar and fought all through the freezing night without once feeling the cold."
He belched loudly and patted his armored belly. "Only trouble is all that sweet warm liquid sloshing around and giving me the most wretched heartburn."
He turned his great head toward Liu Bei. "Brother once this is done you must reward Doctor Zhang well for his cleverness."
Sitting tall and easy upon his magnificent warhorse right beside him Liu Bei smiled warm and calm.
"You may thank Doctor Zhang in person Yide" Liu Bei replied his voice steady and untroubled. "Once we hold all of Guanzhong he will join our camp."
And drawn up in perfect disciplined ranks right behind the two sworn brothers stood the reason for Xiahou Yuan's stunned silence and dread.
This was not merely Linwei's worn out garrison. Ten thousand fresh fully armed and well rested elite reinforcements stood in perfect order. Troops Liu Bei had led up the valley himself.
The original defenders of Linwei still burned bright with triumph from their victory the night before. Now bolstered by this vast fresh force their morale soared to impossible heights. They looked ready to tear the world apart.
When he had finished his quiet talk of soups and digestion Liu Bei slowly raised his ornate sword. His gaze swept calm and unshakable across the Cao lines. Then he pointed the blade straight at them.
"The campaign to bring the Three Qin lands to peace" Liu Bei declared his voice carrying across the silent field. "Begins today."