Jin Yong - The Book and The Sword

Chen suddenly understood. "Yes, that's it!" he cried. "They have held back on purpose in the hope of luring the Muslim forces in to try and rescue us. But Mistress Huo Qingtong has guessed it and refused to be tricked."

"Whether she's tricked or not, we're still finished," commented Zhang Jin.

"No, we're not," Chen replied. "She is certain to think of a way out."

Their spirits were suddenly revived, and leaving two of the heroes to keep guard, the others settled down to rest at the bottom of the pit.

Many hours later, they heard shouting in the distance. The sound of galloping hooves and clashing swords increased in volume until they heard a man near the pit shout: "Daughter! Master Chen! Where are you?"

"Father! Father! We're here!" Princess Fragrance called.

The heroes leapt out of the pit and saw Muzhuolun, sabre in hand, galloping towards them with a ragged bunch of Muslim soldiers behind, fighting bravely. Princess Fragrance ran to him crying "Father! Father!"

Muzhuolun took her in his arms. "Don't be afraid," he said soothingly. "I have come to save you."

Xu jumped onto the back of a horse to get a better view of the situation. He saw a great cloud of dust rising to the east and knew the Manchu armoured cavalry were coming.

"Master Muzhuolun!" he called. "Let's retreat to that high ground to the west!" Muzhuolun immediately ordered his troops to comply. They started out from the pit with the Manchus close behind, and as they reached the hill, saw another force of Manchu troops moving in from the west.

"Huo Qingtong was right," Muzhuolun thought glumly. "I should not have accused her like that. She must be feeling very bad."

They threw up temporary defences on the hilltop and settled down to wait for an opportunity to escape. With the Muslims firmly established on high ground, the Manchus did not dare, for the moment, to attack.

Huo Qingtong stationed her unit about four miles away from the enemy forces. At noon, the unit commanders came to report. She told the commander of the Green Flag's second unit: "Go with five hundred troops and take up positions along the southern bank of the Black River. The Manchu troops are not allowed to cross the river. If they attack, do not engage them head on, but rather delay them as long as possible." The commander bowed and retired.

She then turned to the commander of the White Flag's first unit. "I want you to lure the Manchu forces westwards. If your troops clash with the enemy, they are not allowed to win the engagement, but must continue to flee into the desert, the further the better. Take our four thousand head of cattle and goats with you and leave them along the road for them to seize."

"Why should we give them our livestock? I won't do it!"

Huo Qingtong's lips tightened. "Do you refuse to follow my orders?" she asked quietly.

The commander brandished his sabre. "If you tell me to win a battle. I will follow your orders. If you tell me to lose a battle, I would rather die then comply!"

"Seize him!" Huo Qingtong commanded. Four guards ran forward and grabbed the commander's arms. "The Manchu forces are oppressing us and to beat them, we must work together with one heart. Will you or will you not follow my orders?"

"No! What are you going to do about it?"

"Execute him!" she commanded, and the officer's face turned pale. The guards pushed him out of the tent and sliced off his head with one sword stroke as the other commanders quivered with fear.

Huo Qingtong promoted the assistant commander to take the dead officer's place and told him to retreat westwards before the Manchu forces until he saw smoke rising from the east, then to return as quickly as possible, avoiding battle with the Manchus. She ordered the other units to gather beside the Great Quagmire to the east.

Her work complete, she mounted her horse and drew her sword. "The first and second units of the Black Flag, follow me," she shouted.

Muzhuolun, Chen and the others were trapped on the hill. The Manchu troops had attacked twice, but had been beaten back. The hill was surrounded by piles of corpses. Losses on both sides had been heavy.

Sometime after noon, there was a movement in the Manchu lines, and a column of mounted Muslim soldiers charged through towards them. Amidst the flying snow flakes, they spotted Huo Qingtong at its head.

"Charge!" shouted Muzhuolun, and led his men down the hill to meet her. Princess Fragrance galloped over to her sister and embraced her.

Huo Qingtong took her hand and shouted: "Commander of the Black Flag Third Unit: lead your men west until you meet up with the first unit of the White Flag and follow the orders of its commander."

The officer and his troops galloped off, and a column of Manchu cavalry broke from the main force and chased after them.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Huo Qingtong. "Commander of the Black Flag First Unit: retreat with your men towards Yarkand and follow the orders of my brother. Commander of the Second Unit, you retreat towards the Black River." The two units broke out of the encirclement, and disappeared into the distance pursued by two more columns of Manchu cavalry.

"Everyone else head eastwards!" Huo Qingtong ordered, and the remaining Muslim soldiers along with the Red Flower Society fighters galloped through the circle of Manchu troops and away.

The Manchu cavalry, under the command of Zhao Wei closed in on the fleeing Muslims and cut off several hundred of them. All were slaughtered. Zhao Wei was delighted. He pointed to the huge Crescent Moon banner near Huo Qingtong and shouted: "Whoever seizes that banner gets a reward!" The cavalrymen surged forward, galloping madly across the desert.

The Muslims were riding good horses and the Manchu cavalry had difficulty keeping up with them. But after ten or fifteen miles, some of the Muslim fighters began to fall behind and were killed by the Manchu troops. Zhao Wei saw they were all either old men or boys, and exclaimed: "Their leader has no crack troops with him. After them!" They galloped on for another two or three miles and saw the Muslim force dispersing, apparently in confusion. Fluttering on the top of a large sand dune ahead was the crescent banner.

Zhao Wei flourished his sword and led the charge towards the dune with his bodyguards behind. But as he reached the top and looked out beyond, he was almost frightened out of his wits. To the north and south, were rank after orderly rank of Muslim warriors, waiting silently. The Manchu force had originally been several times larger than the Muslim force, but so many units had been sent out in pursuit of the breakaway Muslim columns that only ten thousand armoured cavalry now faced the concentrated might of the Muslim army. Two more Muslim columns appeared behind them, and with enemy troops to the north, south and west, Zhao Wei shouted: "Everyone forward! Eastwards!" The Manchu forces surged forward as the Muslim fighters gradually closed in on them.

Suddenly, there was a chorus of cries from the cavalry unit in the lead. A soldier rode up to Zhao Wei and said: "General! We're finished! There's quicksand ahead!" He could see a thousand cavalrymen and their horses already flailing about as they sank into the soft mud.

Chen and the others stood on a sand dune and watched as the Manchu troops fell into the quagmire. The soldiers behind tried to escape, but the Muslims pressed relentlessly in, forcing them into the mud. The air was filled with the screams of the hapless Manchu soldiers, but the mud crept up their legs, and when it reached their mouths, the noise ceased. The dwindling numbers of Manchu troops fought desperately, but in less than an hour, the whole army had been forced into the quagmire. Only Zhao Wei and a hundred or so guards managed to escape after carving a path of blood through the Muslim ranks.