Mark Morris - The Great Wall

The young bear soldier’s face was apoplectic with rage. His show of aggression and hostility wasn’t quite convincing, though. Beneath the boy’s bluster William sensed fear and uncertainty. If they hadn’t been surrounded by myriad armored soldiers, he would have found it a simple task, even in his exhausted state, to have snatched the lance, flipped it round and rammed it through the young warrior’s guts. He decided, though, that in this instance it was better to comply than to retaliate and end up dead. And so, curling his lips in a disarming grin, he raised his hands in surrender.

Clearly buoyed by his mastery over the foreign prisoner, the young soldier yelled an order at them. Although they didn’t understand his words, the fact that he jabbed them with the end of his long lance made it clear that he wanted them to sit against the wall. William and Pero did so, their backs pressed up against the rear parapet. They watched the proceedings around them with a mixture of professional curiosity, apprehension and utter astonishment.

What astonished them the most was the fact that the Wall, incredible structure though it was, was not simply a barrier against attack, but a brilliantly conceived war machine. Peering over the parapet behind them, they saw that attached to the Wall below was a seemingly endless row of huge trebuchets, like gigantic, jointed arms that were even now slowly straightening, that stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions.

They both jumped as the surface of the Wall at the bottom of each of the trebuchets suddenly began to crack open. William’s first thought was that the Wall was somehow breaking up, that the enemy, whoever they were, had launched a stealth attack, which was now undermining the structure. But then he realized that, like the ceiling through which the sail-decked contraptions had risen, the Wall was supposed to break open. He watched, amazed, as from the channels that had been created rose a series of vast iron chutes.

This, though, was perhaps only the least of the wonders they were destined to witness over the next few minutes. No sooner had the chutes appeared than, with a further series of cracks, the stone floor in front of them opened in multiple places once again, and what appeared to be numerous nests or platforms rose up from below. As soon as they were in position, rows of red-armored eagle snipers lined up and began to climb onto the platforms. Each of them was holding a weapon William had never seen before. It was similar to his own bow, but shorter, stubbier, and held horizontally rather than vertically. Odd though the weapons were, he and Pero had seen for themselves how accurate they could be. Again William wondered how an attacking force could hope to win against such firepower.

With the archers in position on their raised platforms, the floor cracked open yet again—in different sections this time—and the contraptions that William and Pero had seen earlier rose up through the gaps. There were not just five of them this time, but dozens—hundreds perhaps. They rose up into the air like giant spikes, and then, when they were in position, a flood of female crane warriors, fluid and nimble as dancers in their vibrant blue armour, flooded forward to tug on ropes and pulleys dangling from the undersides of the contraptions.

As they did so the contraptions opened up, like vast elegant birds spreading their wings. Immediately crane warriors began to step up onto the bird-like rigs, to buckle and strap themselves into harnesses that were attached to the structure, to become a part of it. As soon as they were in position, yellow-clad tiger warriors came forward to toss the crane warriors long lances, which they caught nimbly, before taking up their positions on massive winches to which the bird-like rigs were attached. The tiger warriors began to haul on levers and ropes, hauling the rigs higher, causing the great wing-like sails to spread wider, to fill with air. Now the crane warriors looked ready to launch themselves from the battlements, to fly and swoop through the air like gigantic birds.

William glanced at Pero, and saw that his dark eyes were as big as saucers.

Just as amazed himself, he muttered, “This is…”

“Unbelievable,” Pero supplied.

William spotted one of the crane leader’s captains or lieutenants clambering atop one of the rigs and strapping herself in, but he couldn’t see the crane leader—Lin?—herself.

And then he did see her, further along the Wall, barking orders, organizing her troops. She was perched on one of the rigs, which was being hauled into position by tiger soldiers. As the wings of the rig spread she stood proudly, stretching her body out as though eager to launch herself into battle, a long lance in each hand, as if she was prepared to fight twice as hard as everyone else.

She looked magnificent, dazzling, beautiful. Her black hair flowed in the wind. William couldn’t take his eyes off her.

And then, from behind a shadowy buttress in the Wall close to them, half-concealed by one of the trebuchets, a head suddenly appeared, snagging his attention.

The head was followed by the upper part of a lean, almost scrawny body. William blinked in surprise as the newcomer turned to regard him. What surprised him the most was not that the man had appeared, but that he was a Westerner, like himself! Who was he? Where had he come from? He didn’t seem to be a prisoner here. The man was cadaverous, with sharp, almost fox-like features. He clenched his teeth in a grin and nodded. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone again.

William turned to Pero, feeling slightly dazed. “Did you see that?”

Pero nodded. “I did.”

Beyond the din of preparations—the clank and creak and scrape of machinery, the pounding of drums, the bellowing of orders—the sound that had pulled them all up short in front of the stockade door, the screeching and wailing, as of a thousand tormented children, had been growing steadily louder. Now it was loud enough to start drilling into their heads, to send shudders of primal fear through their bodies.

“Who the hell are they fighting?” William asked, raising his voice above the ululation.

Pero shook his head. “No idea. But they look nervous.”

William surveyed the well-drilled activity still taking place in front of them. Admiringly he said, “They know how to follow orders.”

What Pero had said, though, was true. The soldiers did look nervous. And as the ceaseless wailing grew louder and closer and more ear piercing, they looked more nervous still, their eyes flickering with fear, sweat running down their faces.

“It’s a big wall to be so nervous,” Pero said.

Their bear guards had now turned their attention from their two prisoners and, like everyone else, were focused on the oncoming threat beyond the Wall. William nudged Pero and indicated the buttress to their right, from behind which the scrawny Westerner had appeared.

“Let’s get a closer look,” he said.

The two men sidled across to the buttress and, awkwardly because of their bound hands, scrambled up on to it as best they could to get a better vantage point. As soon as they were high enough, they peered over the heads of the hundreds of waiting troops at the desert beyond.

What they could see made them gasp. The river in the distance, which seemed to mark a border between the Wall and the jade mountain, was seething and churning, as if the water had turned boiling hot. Foam and spray were rising in the air, sparkling in the sun. But there was something in the spray, something dark that seemed to move with a kind of frantic purpose. Was it a single entity or…

“Dios mio…” Pero muttered.

William gaped, but couldn’t speak. He literally couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The creatures now bursting from the smothering cloud of spray, revealed for the first time beneath the unforgiving desert sun, were not animals but monsters . They barreled en masse towards the Wall, hundreds of them, thousands of them. And as they came they screamed their terrible, wailing war cry; a sound of rage and hunger and misery. It was as if they had burst from the very depths of Hell, bringing the screams of the tormented with them.