Chapter 189: Dogskin Hat, Tattered Fur Coat, Mongol Iron Cavalry
Li Xiao led the Jin Prefecture Third Town army in triumphant return.
However, shortly after he left Ubsu Nur Grassland, a six-man cavalry squad escorting two Grasslanders caught up.
“Report, Great Governor.”
“Urgent report from Chiliarch Li Sanhe.”
At this time, Li Xiao was riding a tall black war horse, wearing a black cotton robe with gold trim.
After all, armor was too heavy; even the cotton armor made in Jin Prefecture weighed around thirty or forty jin.
Therefore, unless it was wartime, soldiers rarely wore armor.
Moreover, Jin Prefecture Army scouts were often deployed around twenty li in the surroundings, so even if they really encountered an enemy attack, there would be enough reaction time to don armor.
“Present it.”
Li Xiao said in a deep voice.
Afterward, the personal guard handed a letter to Li Xiao and relayed: “A few days ago, herdsmen from Third Town encountered two Prairie Barbarians while grazing.”
“After capturing them and interrogating, they learned these two were sent by someone named Gurkhan to deliver a letter to Jin Prefecture’s highest official.”
“After Chiliarch Li Sanhe received the news, he did not dare neglect it and sent the letter along with those two Prairie Barbarians over.”
Gurkhan?
Li Xiao was stunned upon hearing this name, then immediately realized who it was.
Zhamuha!
Although this guy historically served as Gurkhan for less than two months, he was still acknowledged by most Grassland tribes as their jointly elected Great Khan.
At present, Temüjin was inferior to Zhamuha in both prestige and strength.
Then, Li Xiao opened the letter, which was written in Chinese characters.
Before Temüjin created Mongol script, the Grassland had no unified writing system.
Western nomadic tribes like the Naiman Tribe used Uyghur script.
Tribes closer to Han lands like the Kereit Tribe and Tatar Tribe partly used Chinese characters or Sogdian script.
Although Zhamuha’s letter was clearly written by someone else, very irregular with sloppy and hasty handwriting, Li Xiao could still make out the meaning.
“Honored Great Governor of Liao State, Temüjin is a cancer on the Grassland, with heaven-swallowing ambition, scheming to monopolize the Grassland and leaving no chance for our tribes to survive.”
“My Zadarlan and other Nine Tribes are closely tied to Liao State; if the lips are gone, the teeth will feel the cold.”
“If Temüjin grows strong, he will surely covet the Western Grassland and plot to seize back Naiman old lands from Liao State.”
“We Grassland men respect warriors, but Temüjin is greedy and brutal, truly untrustworthy; if he succeeds, the Grassland will know no peace, and we will have no place to stand.”
“Thus, at present, our two sides should quickly form an alliance, join hands to resist Temüjin; to protect our homeland’s peace and our descendants’ breeding, we Grassland sons are willing to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with Liao Army, block this scourge, and protect our Grassland!”
The letter was not long, but Li Xiao gleaned several key pieces of information from it.
The Battle of Kuitian had ended; as in history, Ong Khan and Temüjin’s allied army won a great victory, laying the foundation for Temüjin to unify the eastern Grassland while sowing the seeds for his split with Ong Khan.
But the outcome for Zhamuha and others had changed.
Historically, Zhamuha was captured alive by Ong Khan, surrendered, then plotted with Sangkun to urge Ong Khan to break with Temüjin.
After the Kereit Tribe was destroyed by Temüjin, Zhamuha fled west to the Naiman Tribe to urge Sun Khan to attack Temüjin.
But now, part of history had diverged; Zhamuha did not surrender to Ong Khan but fled directly to the Naiman, now the Western Sea.
Then, Li Xiao ordered the two messengers of Zhamuha to be interrogated, gaining insight into Zhamuha’s current situation.
Though not quite a homeless dog, it was far from good.
Kiyan tribe’s army was in hot pursuit, intent on utterly eliminating him.
Zhamuha sending men was actually a plea for aid.
The defeat at Kuitian had greatly damaged his prestige; the flight had caused soldiers under his command to desert one after another, even defecting to Temüjin.
Thus, he was nearly at the end of his rope; without reinforcements, Zhamuha would likely fall into Temüjin’s hands for real.
“How many troops remain under Zhamuha?” Li Xiao asked calmly.
“According to the two, he still has about four or five thousand,” Tie Tou said in a deep voice.
“Not a few!” Li Xiao smiled faintly.
As Grassland greenwood overlord and Nine Tribes Allied Army leader, Zhamuha could truly be called ‘a skinny camel is still bigger than a horse.’
So, Li Xiao decided to keep this man alive.
Keeping Zhamuha was a threat to Temüjin.
Moreover, with Zhamuha’s prestige on the Grassland, one day if he raised a great banner, many would surely rejoin him.
In short, anyone opposing Iron Boy, Li Xiao would help out.
“Temüjin didn’t come?” Li Xiao asked.
Tie Tou shook his head lightly: “Kiyan tribe leader Temüjin did not personally come to pursue and kill Zhamuha, but dispatched two generals under him.”
“Likely, Temüjin himself is still in the eastern Grassland, consolidating gains after the Battle of Kuitian.”
For Temüjin, absorbing defeated soldiers, annexing surrounding tribes, and strengthening Kiyan tribe’s power were far more important than pursuing Zhamuha.
As long as Kiyan tribe grew strong, even if Zhamuha made a comeback, Temüjin wouldn’t fear it; worst case, defeat him again.
“What a pity!”
Li Xiao shook his head gently, looking wistful.
If Temüjin had come personally, Li Xiao would say nothing more, directly turn the army back to Yudu Jin Mountain, and take him down at any cost.
But if merely generals under Temüjin, Li Xiao really couldn’t muster much interest.
Eastern Capital matters were still most important.
“Attend me, ink,” Li Xiao said in a deep voice.
Then, he took up brush and paper, directly beginning to write.
Order to Li Sanhe: agree to ally with Zhamuha, ensure all Kiyan tribe army is left behind.
With Jin Prefecture Army’s expansion and institutional formalization, orders could no longer rely solely on oral relay by messengers.
Strategic important orders like this were personally written by Li Xiao, sealed with his great seal and sealing wax, then dispatched with at least three cavalrymen.
Watching the messenger cavalry squad carry away his orders, Li Xiao’s gaze turned eastward.
His low voice murmured: “Temüjin, sooner or later, I will personally lead the army on Eastern Expedition to Onon River and take you alive under my horse.”
……
On the vast boundless Grassland north of Khentii Mountains, under blazing sun and howling gale.
An army of over ten thousand was crossing high mountains and rivers, marching west.
Ordinary soldiers wore ragged hemp clothing, overlaid with filthy sheepskin jackets; their faces were caked in grime, hair greasy and matted like bird nests.
Their weapons were motley; many sabers and spearheads still bore faint rust spots of years past.
If soldiers were like this, generals were no better.
Their armor was not gleaming fine steel but pieced together from leather and metal scraps, uneven and worn through in places, exuding an aged scent.
But for this army, such iron armor was already rare treasure, worn only by a select few.
And they were precisely Kiyan tribe’s army, the prototype of the Mongol cavalry that would later sweep Eurasia.
To sum up the Mongol cavalry’s sorry state at this time: dog-skin hats on heads, ragged sheepskin jackets, one saber plus riding and archery; equipment all from looting.
Mongol cavalry truly surged in combat strength only after capturing Zhongdu, taking many Central Plains artisans captive, raising soldiers’ armor rate to sixty percent.
But at this time, Mongol cavalry were just mud-legged peasants.
“What place is this?”
“How far to Zhamuha’s army?”
Amid Kiyan tribe’s great army, a man in ragged sheepskin jacket over iron armor, half-bald, shouted loudly.
He was precisely this army’s commander.
Temüjin’s left and right arms, Borchu.
He and Muqali were Temüjin’s most relied-upon generals; after Mongol Empire’s founding, they were enfeoffed as left and right wing Myriad Household Commanders.
Their status exceeded that of Chilawen, Jebe, Subutai, and other generals.
After Battle of Kuitian, with Kiyan tribe and Kereit Tribe armies victorious, Borchu volunteered to pursue Zhamuha and others’ remnants.
While also tasked with subduing tribes en route.
To spread Great Khan Temüjin’s prestige across the entire Grassland.
A Kiyan tribe general on horseback shouted: “General, we are still in Merkit tribe territory; ahead is Bulgan, Oirats’ territory.”
Hearing this, Borchu laughed: “There are no more Merkit People henceforth; they’ve been conquered by us. Oirats cannot be spared.”
“Tell General Kublai to bite Zhamuha’s tail hard; don’t let them escape.”
“Yes, sir.”
Their path was precisely to pursue and kill Zhamuha and others’ remnants.
Passing through Taichiud tribe and Merkit tribe territories successively.
Grasslanders naturally attached to the strong; with Temüjin defeating Zhamuha, some tribes surrendered without fight.
After Battle of Kuitian, Borchu and Kublai pursued with merely eight thousand Kiyan tribe troops; now they had fifteen thousand.
Army numbers doubled.
Oirats’ strength was not great, with only tens of thousands total and fewer than ten thousand fighting men; in Borchu’s view, no concern.
Historically, Borchu earned enfeoffment as Mongol right wing Myriad Household Commander through conquering western tribes, governing vast lands from Yudu Jin Mountain to Golden Mountain.
In a sense, his subordinates were the precursor to Dzungar Khaganate.
That afternoon, Borchu’s army crossed the Erhun River into Oirats territory, raiding a subordinate Oirats tribe.
Demoting all men to slaves, making them watch helplessly as Kiyan tribe soldiers ravished their wives and daughters.
Seizing their cattle and sheep for slaughter, lavishly rewarding soldiers.
This move greatly boosted Mongol soldiers’ morale again.
They followed Temüjin for the strongest liquor and fiercest women; without such material basis, this army of various tribes would have scattered long ago.
But that night, uproar arose in the Mongol army; at first, Borchu thought soldiers were just with women and paid no mind.
Until report came: “General, Chuzuo tribe and Hechila tribe men are fighting.”
Borchu frowned: “Why are they fighting?”
“Seems over disputing women.”
Hearing this, another general in the tent, Kublai, slammed down his wine bowl in annoyance, snorting: “Useless things.”
On the Grassland, men fought fiercely over women, cattle, sheep, wealth, even to rivers of blood; not uncommon.
Especially as these two tribes had prior grudges.
With that, Kublai strode out of the tent to handle it.
His method simple: slay the women disputed by the two tribes, fair and impartial, no one gets any.
Returning, Kublai complained to Borchu: “Our numbers have grown much, but disputes have too.”
Under Temüjin were the Four Heroes and Four Hounds.
Four Heroes: Muqali, Borchu, Borghul, and Chilawen.
Four Hounds: Subutai, Jebe, Jelme, and Kublai.
These eight were Temüjin’s most vital meritorious generals in unifying Mongolia, all top commanders able to stand alone.
Thus, Borchu and Kublai had long seen the Mongol army’s current issues.
True Kiyan tribe soldiers less than half; most were other tribes’ forces who joined mid-way after Battle of Kuitian, awed by Temüjin’s prestige.
These tribal soldiers’ combat strength not inferior to Kiyan tribe soldiers, but each had their own designs.
Once facing strong foes, they would scatter.
On this, Borchu nodded lightly, saying coldly: “Any powerful tribe’s birth comes with blood and fire’s tempering.”
“Just fight a few more battles; survival of the fittest, the remnants are the warriors we need.”
In Borchu’s view, these forcibly joined tribal soldiers were not true comrades, mere cannon fodder.
Only after surviving bloodbaths, sharing life and death with Kiyan tribe, could they be true kin.
“But these tribal leaders’ prestige and power are too high,” Borchu said darkly.
As Temüjin’s confidant, he vaguely knew some of Temüjin’s thoughts.
Since Liao Army’s Eastern Expedition destroyed Naiman Tribe, Temüjin grew more concerned with Liao State matters.
Always seeking ways through various channels to learn about Liao State.
Moreover, Temüjin was particularly interested in Northern Frontier’s chiliarch system.
For this system shifted base-level power from tribal leaders to upper echelons, an effective centralization.
Temüjin had been studying it; soon, Kiyan tribe would emulate Northern Frontier’s chiliarch enfeoffments.
Next day, Borchu led Kiyan tribe army west; soon scout reports came.
“General Borchu, rebel traces spotted ahead.”
“They are hiding in a mountain valley, less than thirty li from our army.”
Hearing this, Borchu and Kublai exchanged glances, excitement in their eyes.
“Good, finally found them this time.”
“Must not let Zhamuha escape again.”
Though Zhamuha was defeated, he was Nine Tribes Allied Army’s elected Gurkhan, with immense Grassland prestige.
In this, even Temüjin fell far short.
If he escaped, future Grassland would surely see more turmoil, always a threat to Temüjin.
Thus, must eliminate root and stem.
“Kublai, we split forces two ways, surround the rebels; don’t let Zhamuha escape,” Borchu said.
“Rest assured, credit for capturing and killing Zhamuha won’t go to you.”
With that, Kublai and Borchu’s gazes met, nodding to each other, then led their warriors to assault the mountain valley separately.
This mountain valley upstream of Haru River was actually a basin between ridges.
Valley interior flat, vast area, ideal for camping; flanking slopes gentle, covered in thick green grass.
From mid-slope overlook, entire valley scene in view.
Zhamuha remnant army’s tents densely packed on valley floor; from high vantage, like patches of dog-skin plaster on Grassland.
Between tents, soldiers sat or stood, faces full of numbness and uncertainty for the future.
Morale among valley soldiers quite low.
At this time, Borchu stood high, gazing afar, brows slightly furrowed.
“Strange~”
Felt something off.
Though Zhamuha’s remnants were hounded like homeless dogs, they shouldn’t panic so much as to send no alert scouts.
Borchu thought Zhamuha’s scouts would warn early, but nothing happened; Mongol army approached valley openly.
“General, what’s strange?”
“Zhamuha’s army right ahead; charge and we’ll rout them.”
“Yes, that central large tent flies Zhamuha’s flag; he must be there.”
Kiyan tribe generals eagerly sought battle, itching to charge down and capture Zhamuha alive.
But as Borchu hesitated, shouts of killing rose from the other side.
“Kill!”
“Capture Zhamuha alive.”
“Kill one enemy, reward two sheep.”
“Warriors, charge for me.”
Kublai had already led army to assault Zhamuha’s camp.
Seeing this, Borchu could only suppress doubts, forced to lead men in charge.
“Kill~”
Kiyan tribe army struck from two directions simultaneously, throwing valley rebels into chaos.
Valley instantly echoed with deafening battle cries; rebels caught off-guard by sudden assault.
Kiyan tribe army unstoppable, met almost no real resistance, charging to camp front.
Borchu gripped spear, chased a fleeing rebel soldier, piercing his body instantly with horse’s momentum.
“Kill~”
Rebels collapsed like landslide, in total disorder; many soldiers knelt in surrender.
But as Kiyan tribe army pushed deep into camp, Borchu’s sense of anomaly sharpened.
“Not right!”
“Rebel numbers wrong; why so few?” Borchu’s heart jolted, realizing a grave issue.
After Battle of Kuitian, Zhamuha, Toqto’a, and others had several thousand troops combined.
Even with desertions in flight, with Zhamuha’s prestige and means, at worst he’d retain four or five thousand.
Yet camp had tents for four or five thousand, but actual soldiers under a thousand.
Where were the others?
Main camp tent empty, no sign of Zhamuha.
Borchu shocked, bellowed: “Capture some prisoners.”
……
Ten li from this valley, great cavalry host stood like iron-cast fortress, neatly arrayed.
Yellow, white, red Sun and Moon Battle Flags whipped in gale; each represented a thousand-cavalry unit.
At glance, cavalry formation like coiling steel giant dragon sprawled across Grassland.
Majestic aura, heart-shaking.
On foremost high slope, generals silently watched camp direction; surroundings deathly still, only wind howling.
Leader was Li Sanhe, in striking red cotton armor, tasseled helmet; tight gear wrapped neck and cheeks, exposing only calm steady face.
Gaze through telescope, fixed on fierce battle in forward camp.
Beside him, Zhamuha, Toqto’a, and Khubilai on horseback strove to maintain calm facade, but trembling hands and flickering eyes betrayed inner agitation.
“General Li truly divine in foresight; Kiyan tribe men took the bait,” Merkit tribe leader Toqto’a said excitedly with a light laugh.
Voice tinged with thrill and flattery.
Li Sanhe slowly lowered telescope, withdrew gaze from battlefield, glanced calmly at the three, tone steady: “Soldiers you left in camp are all trash; most have started surrendering now.”
“Kiyan tribe men likely spotted the anomaly.”
“Time to attack.”
Hearing this, Zhamuha, Toqto’a, and Khubilai exchanged glances; Zhamuha spoke first: “What plan does General Li have?”
They knew Li Sanhe’s identity: Jin Prefecture Chiliarch, General of the Western Sea Protector Army.
All Jin Prefecture Army on Naiman Grassland now under this General Li.
Moreover, he was kin to Jin Prefecture Great Governor, noble status, high rank.
For their Nine Tribes Allied Army to rely on Liao men’s power against Temüjin, best not offend this General Li.
Still, when interests at stake, the three wouldn’t yield.
If Jin Prefecture Army treated their forces as cannon fodder, they’d never agree.
After all, they’d left several hundred in camp as bait; remaining three or four thousand must be preserved.
Li Sanhe saw through their thoughts but didn’t care.
Though called allies, in truth Jin Prefecture Army was protecting Zhamuha et al.
Using them as cannon fodder was only natural.
“Our Jin Prefecture Army’s Divine Machine Camp will be first-wave main assault force,” Li Sanhe said deeply to the three.
“Your forces and our Jin Prefecture Kuli Army as second-wave assault.”
“Any issues?”
Hearing this, Zhamuha and the two exchanged glances.
Though unclear what Divine Machine Camp and Kuli Army specifically were, Li Sanhe’s deployment showed sincerity.
First wave Jin Prefecture Army leads, then them with another Jin Prefecture force.
Such arrangement shouldn’t treat them as cannon fodder.
“No issue; as General Li arranges,” Zhamuha and the two nodded firmly.
But unbeknownst, not just them—even Kuli Army were all cannon fodder in Li Sanhe’s eyes.
Kuli Army either Naiman Captives or Han Slaves, still not up to major tasks.
Only after war’s baptism proving loyalty and ability could survivors qualify as true Jin Prefecture garrison soldiers.
This was also survival of the fittest for those Kuli Army.
“Kiyan men, feel Jin Prefecture Army’s wrath!” Li Sanhe gazed toward camp, thought darkly.
