Chapter 44: Preparation
Under the bright sun, men were digging.
This was the first time they had dug a pit with such heavy hearts. In the past, every pit they dug was for diverting water or gathering clay for pottery. That was labor for survival, and the sweat they shed was sweet.
Now, they were burying corpses, and it was painful.
The burial site was just north of the settlement, on a plot of land that had previously been cleared by fire. This time, however, Hua had asked for the help of Chen Jian's people to bury his kin in the earth, vowing to one day drip the blood of their enemies upon it.
A deep, straight pit was dug, and the four bodies were carried into it. Chen Jian watched in silence.
The four were placed on their sides, their bodies bent like a bow. They looked as if they had fallen into a peaceful, undisturbed sleep from which they would never wake; or like newborn babies curled in their mother's womb, perhaps awaiting a new birth.
Hua squatted on the ground. He had lost his kinsmen and had nothing left, but he still had his hands.
So he picked up two stones and struck them together, fashioning sharp flakes.
They found branches and grass, bundling the sharp stones into four simple hand-axes, which they placed in the arms of the dead. Each of the four now held a simple stone axe.
He didn't know where his kinsmen would go after death, but he knew a stone axe could ward off wild beasts, kill enemies, and crack hazelnuts and walnuts. Perhaps it would be useful in that other world. What if they encountered enemies there without an axe to defend themselves?
Taking one last look at his kinsmen, he grabbed a handful of ash and sprinkled it lightly over them. Weeping quietly, he began to cover them with soil.
Looking around, only three of his relatives remained. He had nothing else. For a long time, he and the three survivors simply squatted beside the mound in silence.
Chen Jian led his people away, leaving Hua and his three remaining kinsmen to grieve.
Yu Qian'er held Chen Jian's arm tightly, not daring to stray from his side.
During the day, Hua had recounted the tragedy that had befallen his tribe, and his description of his dead sister had left a deep impression. Although his words were crude, Yu Qian'er felt as if she had witnessed the scene herself.
Chen Jian took her hand and said, "Don't be afraid. You still have your older brother. With us here, no one can hurt your family."
Yu Qian'er nodded but didn't let go, following wherever Chen Jian went. It seemed that was the only way she could feel safe.
She wasn't the only one; many of the tribespeople wore uneasy expressions. Although the Meteor tribe had destroyed Song's tribe, that event had felt distant. Song hadn't been a good storyteller, so they had only waited in silent anticipation, an experience far removed from the visceral fear they felt today.
Chen Jian saw this couldn't continue. "We won't fire pottery or clear land today," he announced.
He led his people to the edge of the cliff behind the settlement. The slope leading up to their village was nearly seventy to eighty meters wide, with a naturally formed cliff at the top. He had chosen this location not only for protection against floods but also for its future defensive potential.
He hadn't been in a hurry before, but the fate of Hua's tribe worried him. Their existence was too fragile; the loss of even a few dozen people could force them to start over from scratch.
He went to the slope, studied it, and said to his people, "We're going to dig a deep ditch here. For the next few days, this is the most important task. As long as we have enough food, everything else can wait."
The trench was for defense. Originally, he had wanted to encircle the entire settlement, but completing such a massive project was impossible with their current labor force.
It didn't need to be straight or overly deep. All the excavated soil was piled on the side closer to the cliff. In the afternoon, Hua and the others joined in. Without a word, they simply lowered their heads and began carrying baskets of soil.
He likely understood the simple principle that those who do not work do not eat. Though he didn't know what the future held, he knew he couldn't accept their food for free.
He had nothing now, and the four of them felt tiny against the vast world. Chen Jian didn't rush to speak with them. Instead, he quietly called Song over and asked him to work alongside the four newcomers and, while they worked, to share his own story.
All other work was halted. Men, women, and children came to dig the ditch. The only activities that continued were the evening military drills by the river and the fishing parties.
Even so, it took four full days to finish the excavation.
The trench was as deep as a man and nearly four meters wide. Sharp-edged gravel and shards of broken pottery were scattered along its bottom. All the excavated soil was piled on the east side, creating an earthwork embankment nearly half a man's height.
A gap was left in the middle of the eastern bank where no soil was piled. Several people tested the defense; climbing from the trench up to the east bank proved difficult.
From the village side, it was impossible to jump across to the top of the embankment because it was too high. However, from the east side, the men could jump down into the village.
A channel was dug to divert water from the stream, filling the ditch. Three logs were laid across the gap to serve as a simple bridge.
The tribesmen crossed the bridge and stood on the slope on the other side, feeling a palpable sense of relief. The anxiety that had weighed on their hearts for days seemed to wash away with the creation of this moat.
Hua thought it would have been wonderful if his tribe's caves had been protected by such a ditch. But he also knew his people had never had the energy or time to dig one.
In Chen Jian's mind, the trench alone wasn't enough. He had his people carry mud bricks and build several small huts on the hillside.
At the top of the cliff, he had them find several large, natural boulders. They wove long rattan ropes, tied them to the rocks, and fashioned a few simple release mechanisms. For another two days, they hauled logs and stones up the mountain, stacking them on a flat area until the task was complete.
These were preparations in case of an enemy attack while the able-bodied men were away. The remaining villagers would have to retreat to the cliff and use the stones and logs to buy time. Several birch-bark boats were hidden by the river in the distance, and everyone knew their location.
He moved the large drum into the center of the village and instructed the night watchmen to beat it loudly if they spotted anything unusual.
He gathered the elderly, the women, and the children and told them to run up the cliff immediately upon hearing the drum. Chen Jian also assigned specific roles for what to do after they reached the top.
Roles were assigned to specific people: who would release the logs, who would manage the rope tethers, and who would push the rocks down the slope.
The men had a different duty. Their primary drill was to learn how to cross to the other side of the trench as quickly as possible. If an attack came at night, they were to get to the other side first and then form up. Even if some got separated in the process, it was better than being slaughtered like helpless livestock in the ensuing chaos.
Chaos was the most terrifying enemy. A buffer of even ten minutes would be enough to organize a counterattack.
The strongest city walls are always made of people. The trench and the cliff behind them were merely tools to buy time—time for flesh and blood to be forged into a wall.
When the drum sounded for the first drill, the villagers ran for the other side of the trench in a disorganized panic. This was inevitable.
So the women were given an additional task to practice in their free time: running up the cliff, once a day. Once they got across, they had to remember their positions—who went to the bridge and who went to the top of the mountain.
With the stories of Hua and Song fresh in their minds, the women, feeling particularly vulnerable, took these drills very seriously, though the results were not immediately apparent.
Hua had not spoken to Chen Jian about revenge these past few days. He trusted him. He remembered the oath Chen Jian had made on the mountaintop: that any descendant of their common ancestor could seek his help for any reason. Since the tribe that had killed his family wore their hair loose, he was confident Chen Jian would deal with them.
Because he trusted him, he felt no need to ask more questions. He and his three kinsmen followed Chen Jian to the river for the drills.
The drills were not much different than before, though the pace was faster and the periods of silence were longer. The five-man teams were no longer empty-handed; they now carried spears, short javelins, rattan shields, and stone axes.
Three men stood in the front rank: one with a long spear and two with javelins. Two men were in the rear, armed with stone axes and rattan shields to guard the flanks. A three-pace gap was maintained between each five-man team, allowing the javelins of an adjacent team to provide support. Four teams formed a group. A gap was left between groups to serve as a firing lane for archers. He did not permit his archers to fire in high arcs; they had to get close and shoot on a flat trajectory. Two teams were positioned behind this gap, ready to plug it if the enemy broke through.
The plan was perfect on paper, but reality was another matter. A single drumbeat was all it took for the tribesmen to demonstrate the vast gap between the two.
Chen Jian had initially thought that getting the twenty-man groups to maintain formation for twenty paces would be sufficient. But when they actually moved, the lines became ragged and scattered after only seven or eight paces.
The enemy was expected to attack on a wide front, and since his people's individual fighting skills were poor, he had to rely on formation.
Every six or seven paces, the drums would beat rapidly, signaling the entire formation to halt. They would wait until the line was aligned again before advancing. As soon as the line broke, they regrouped.
A distance of a hundred paces felt impossibly long. The sound of perfectly synchronized footsteps he imagined never materialized. The image of a forest of spears and a wall of bodies existed only in the charcoal drawings he sketched on tree bark.
Since the sacrificial ceremony, they had used drums for military commands, with the rhythm based on the ceremonial beats. They had improved, progressing from initially uneven lines to being able to hold formation for five or six paces, and now for seven or eight.
Chen Jian was not satisfied with this improvement, but Hua, watching from the front, was thrilled. He saw a neat line of men advancing to the sound of a drum, like a great log rolling down from a mountaintop.
Whenever the line wavered, the drumbeat would change. The team on one end would halt while the adjacent teams adjusted their positions, either moving or stopping until the line was straight again. It was like the waves he had seen that night on the Grassy River, waves that seemed capable of washing everything away; it was also like the great boulders on the riverbank, which stood unmoving against the current.
He had never seen this way of fighting, but even this slightly imperfect formation dispelled the last of his worries. He believed that the heads of his enemies would soon be piled beside his kinsmen's grave.
He wanted to join them, but Chen Jian refused.
Someone consumed by hatred would take too long to shed his impatience in the ranks, even in the shock troops armed with stone axes. If one person charged prematurely, it could cause the entire line to surge forward against their will. An ill-timed charge would be counterproductive.
He didn't want heroes or warriors; he only needed men who could understand the drum signals, who knew when to stop and when to charge.
And hatred is the greatest enemy of discipline, far more durable than fanaticism and more deeply rooted than honor.
Chen Jian looked at Hua and asked, "I know you want revenge. But where are your enemies? How many are there? Where do they live? Do you know?"
Hua shook his head dejectedly. He was about to say no when Chen Jian interrupted.
"When wolves hunt, they need scouts and drivers. It's the same for people. Go and find out where those people live."
Hua lowered his head, his fists clenched in frustration. "But I don't know where they are."
Chen Jian patted him on the shoulder, then motioned for the others to continue their practice. Every two days, the men practiced something other than formation drills. For example, those with rattan shields and stone axes would load their backs with stones and practice charging thirty paces, slamming into a haystack with their shoulders and shields.
It wasn't far, only thirty paces, but it was far more grueling than any other training. Even practicing just once every three days, it was unbearable at first. The subsequent soreness in their legs made even squatting painful. Fortunately, they had improved a lot recently and were getting used to it.
With loud yells, the men slammed their shields and shoulders into the haystack. Chen Jian called over Tanuki from the Shi tribe and another young man from his own.
These two, along with Hua and his younger brother, made four. Hua's other two kinsmen were assigned to the third rank of the formation.
"You four, go find that tribe's settlement and see how many of them there are. Tanuki, you can count to one hundred. Count only the men, not the women. If you reach one hundred, break a stick and start counting again."
"Alright. But where do we look?"
"Follow the river upstream. From the site of the Hua tribe's caves, travel upriver for three days. If you don't find them, follow the Hecha stream upstream, also for three days."
The vast majority of tribes still lived along rivers. They were in a northern region with moderate rainfall, so the rivers didn't flood often, and there was no need to move to higher ground or develop well-digging technology. Three days' travel was about the limit of a tribe's territory. The combination of these two factors gave a rough search area.
He took them back to the village and brought out what the women had prepared over the past few days: four nets woven from bark fiber.
He found a tree, climbed up, and tied the two ends of a net to branches, creating a simple hammock.
"Don't light a fire at night. Sleep in these nets, where wild animals can't reach you. We've also prepared food for you that doesn't require cooking. One of you will scout ahead while the other three follow behind with the birch-bark boat. If you are spotted, get in the boat and row downstream. With the current, they won't be able to catch you."
Chen Jian gave them their provisions, packed them up, then looked at the sky. "Leave tomorrow morning. Come back soon. Hua, remember, you are not to engage the enemy alone."
Hua nodded. Chen Jian then grabbed Tanuki's arm and said, "If Hua insists on fighting them, don't try to stop him. Just get in the boat and row back."
Tanuki nodded. Around his neck hung the boar-tusk dagger given to him by the two chiefs after the last sacrifice. He was confident that if he needed to run, no one could catch him.
Early the next morning, the tribe's first four scouts set off. Chen Jian saw them to the river, checked the salted lard and dried tubers in their jar, and wished them a swift return.
Watching their departing figures, Chen Jian made a silent decision.
"Even if the enemy's numbers are small, we will not fight them anytime soon."
He was going to delay this inevitable battle until autumn.
There were three reasons. First, it would give his tribe more time to train until they could hold formation for fifteen paces. Second, if they were going to fight, they were going to take plunder, and whether the enemy was a nomadic or slash-and-burn tribe, the only time to seize anything of value was in the autumn. Third, he would let them gather their harvest, and then he would take it all, leaving them to experience the charms of the Winter Goddess.
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