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trying to trick us."
"How do you know?" asked a young nan.
Hsuang pointed out the window. "Do the barbarians look like they expect us to surrender? They'll attack
the instant we leave the city."
"Then we must fight," another noble replied.
"We are not leaving Shou Kuan!" Hsuang snapped. "That is my command!"
Many of the nobles met the tzu's gaze directly, indicating their disagreement with his decision.
"The emperor placed General Batu in command of our armies," Hsuang said, looking at the nobles who
dared to op-pose him. "Batu gave me command of your armies. To defy my word is to defy the emperor's.
Are you prepared to do that?"
It was Cheng Han who replied. "No one would dare defy you, Tzu Hsuang. Yet, our armies are too
weak to last much longer. Soon, we will have no choice except to surrender or die of starvation. Perhaps it
would be wise to consider fight-ing now, while the option is still viable."
Hsuang felt irritated by the words. Although Cheng had questioned him before, the scarred noble had
always yielded when Hsuang invoked his authority. Despite the man's careful politeness, it appeared Cheng
intended to do no such thing this time.
"I will tell you when we will fight," Hsuang responded through clenched teeth. "We will fight when the
provincial armies arrive to help us, or when the barbarians storm the city walls. Until then, I will not throw
away our armies by sallying against five-to-one odds."
"Staying in Shou Kuan to starve is the same as surrender-ing," Cheng countered. "If we sally, at least
we will kill some barbarians."
"There is no use discussing the matter further," Hsuang declared. Though he normally would have
handled Cheng with more tact, he was too upset by the news of Wu's death to deal patiently with the man's
challenge.
Cheng, however, would not be put off. "We wish to die honorably in battle. It is our right as noblemen."
"It is your right to die when I tell you to," Hsuang snapped, stepping over to stand face-to-face with the
scarred noble. "If you wish to do it honorably, you will wait until I say it is time to fight."
With his one good eye, Cheng met Hsuang's angry gaze and did not flinch. "Your grief is interfering with
your judg-ment, Tzu Hsuang. Otherwise, I would do as you ask."
A rage boiled up from Hsuang's stomach. As if it belonged to somebody else, he watched his arm rise
and saw his hand lash out. He struck Cheng's face with an open palm, leaving a red print on the man's
cheek.
"Apologize!" Hsuang ordered.
The nobles stood in awkward and dumbfounded silence, Cheng staring at his commander with an
expression of dis-belief. Finally, the scarred noble said, "It is understandable that you are upset by the news
of your daughter's death, Tzu Hsuang. Nevertheless, we must look at our options with a clear head." Cheng
turned to address the other nobles. "We must attack now or surrender."
The other lords turned away from Hsuang and gathered around Cheng Han. Casting nervous glances at
their legiti-mate commander, they discussed the two options Cheng had proposed.
Slapping the scarred noble had been a mistake, Hsuang realized. The other lords had interpreted the
action as a loss of self-control, and he had to admit they were correct. Otherwise, he would have handled
Cheng's challenge to his au-thority with much more tact. He certainly would never have struck the man.
Nevertheless, he could not allow the nobles to abandon the city before Batu arrived. "Tzu Cheng,"
Hsuang said, pushing his way into the circle surrounding his rebellious subordinate. "Even if what you say is
true, I am still in com-mand of this army. There are no choices except those I present."
Cheng met his superior's gaze with steady eyes. "That might be true under normal circumstances," he
said, his voice betraying no trace of anger or indignation. "But it is clear your judgment has been impaired
by your loss. Other-wise, you would realize that we stand to gain nothing by de-laying our final battle. With
every hour, we only grow weaker."
Many nobles murmured their agreement.
Reassured by the show of support, Cheng added, "I am sorry, Tzu Hsuang. Your orders don't make
sense."
Several nobles echoed their reluctant agreement. In their eyes, Hsuang saw apology and sympathy, but
no sign of sup-port. Like Cheng, they all believed their commander's grief had overcome his logic.
As far as Hsuang could see, he had only one hope of re-taining command. "You're committing treason,"
he said to Cheng, taking care to appear as rational as possible.
The accusation did not daze the scarred noble. "If the em-peror or your own son-in-law were here, they
would agree with our decision. At such a critical time, it's not in Shou Lung's interest to leave a grieving
man in command."
The deft counter overcame any last doubts the nobles retained about disobeying Hsuang. The group
voiced their ap-proval of Cheng's reasoning, clearly shifting command of the Twenty-Five Armies away
from Hsuang.
The old noble studied his mutinous subordinates for sev-eral moments. Finally, he turned toward the
tower door, motioning for Xeng to follow. Before descending the stairs, however, he paused and addressed
Cheng. "If I may ask, Tzu Cheng, what do you plan to do?"
Cheng lifted his chin. "Fight." As an afterthought, the scarred noble added, "Of course, you and your
troops are welcome to join us."
Hsuang shook his head angrily. "I have better uses for my army," he said. With that, he left the room
and abandoned his fellow nobles to their planning. Though he knew it was impossible to hold the entire city
with only his pengs, he in-tended to keep his promise to Batu. Somewhere deep within the city, he would
find a compound that a small force could defend.
As Hsuang and his son descended the stairs, Xeng walked one step behind his father. Halfway down,
the steward stumbled and almost fell. The old noble stopped and grasped his son's shoulder. The steward's
face looked pale.
"How is your wound, Xeng?" Hsuang asked. "Should I summon help?"
Xeng shook his head. "I'm a little light-headed, but it's nothing to worry about."
Hsuang scowled. "Somehow, I doubt that. We'll find some-place safe for you to recover."
"You don't wish me to leave?" Xeng asked.
Hsuang shook his head. "It would be pointless until those fools have had their battle, would it not?" He
continued down the stairs, supporting his son by the arm.
When he opened the door and stepped into the street, Hsuang was surprised to hear the pengs on the
walls calling to each other in alarm. The noble looked up. The soldiers were cocking their crossbows and
staring at the knoll in front of the gate. From the streets, Hsuang could not see what had alarmed them, so
he ran back up the stairs.
Xeng followed several steps behind, moving more slowly because of his wound. "What's wrong?" the
steward called.
"The enemy must be attacking!" Hsuang answered, glanc-ing over his shoulder at his son's bandaged
head. "Don't strain yourself. I'll meet you up here."
The gray-haired noble reached the top of the tower a few seconds later. The other lords barely noticed
as he entered the room. They were too busy overwhelming Cheng Han with contradictory advice. Hsuang
slipped over to the win-dow, peered out, then swore a vile curse in the name of the Celestial Dragon.
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