- Skirmish That Never Came
Following the Great General’s orders, the army built its formation, and from that height it was visible as if one were looking down at a go board.
It was because we were watching from high ground.
The battle did not begin at once.
The enemy did not enter the range of our arrows, and the Han army (漢軍) did not advance either, so the two sides faced each other from a distance.
The Daltan spread a broad crescent formation, layered three deep, and wrapped around the entrance of the palisade, but they did not charge.
They only kept their distance.
By the Great General’s command, the crossbows were prepared inside the palisade.
A crossbow team was formed in groups of three: one carried it on his back, one stepped on it with his foot to draw the string, and the final shooter set the iron bolt on the string and fired.
Fifty or sixty crossbowmen formed up in a long rectangular block in a wide space inside the palisade.
From outside, it would have been impossible to tell that the crossbows were being readied within.
Rather, the enemy seemed to relax, reassured that they were beyond the reach of the armored infantry.
“Once we fire, they will certainly pull back farther.
Aim for the command center in the middle.
Stake fate on a single bolt.
Junior officers, correct the shooters’ line.”
At some point, without anyone noticing when, the Great General had gone down and was personally commanding the crossbow unit.
According to the intelligence Lee Hui’s Baekryong unit brought in, the enemy was Tareukcheol, the strongest of the Daltan clans.
They were all cavalry, and there were no other units or supply train in the rear.
The report said that Tareukcheol had taken position in the center, standing there and probing for weakness.
“Lee Hui.
Take the First and Second Companies—every man you can—and lay an ambush on their flank.
The direction they will flee is likely southwest.
They look like they are passing by and testing us, so we cannot simply let them go.
When the crossbows strike and the armored infantry advances, hit their confused flank and push in.
Move with the armored infantry, and if they cannot keep up, do not pursue any farther.”
The Great General issued detailed operational orders.
Lee Hui, eyes like a hawk, watched the front, steeled his resolve, then quietly withdrew to the rear with the assembled Baekryong unit.
Soun remained on the mountaintop and did not go with them.
The Baekryong cavalry looked solid—heavy armor, bows, spears, and shields.
Some even wore horse armor.
They had already finished assembling, so the moment Lee Hui arrived, they moved.
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Before the crossbowmen were fully ready, General Yu Gunmyeong, who commanded the armored infantry, went outside the palisade and took his command position.
The armored infantry advanced step by step, stamping the ground with their feet.
The shield-bearers moved in front, striking the ground with their feet as they advanced, and directly behind them came the long-spearmen holding their spears high.
Behind them, archers stood in ranks.
It was a textbook defensive formation.
The enemy could not break in.
Before they reached us, they would be cut down by arrows, and even if they closed, they would not pierce spear wall and shield.
The enemy, as if uncertain what they were seeking, stayed halted.
The warhorses of the barbarians, having run a long distance, kept breathing out white vapor.
Jin Mugwang’s Han army did not wait.
“Crossbowmen, prepare to fire!”
“Prepare to fire!” “Prepare to fire!” “Prepare to fire!” “Prepare to fire!”
With effort, the strings were drawn.
They braced the bow with their feet, straightened their backs, and pulled the string with both hands.
When the string caught on the trigger, the shooter set a long iron bolt.
Then the junior officers adjusted the shooters’ firing angles.
Jin Mugwang glanced down over the mass of crossbowmen.
“Fire!”
Dozens of heavy bolts flew up toward the sky.
Each bolt, twice the length of a normal arrow, ripped through the cold air with a tearing sound as it shot upward.
The Han soldiers followed the arcs with their eyes.
At a distance ordinary arrows could not reach, the heavy bolts flew without hesitation.
They fell in a tight cluster toward the center, where the enemy’s leadership stood.
The Daltan soldiers who had been standing still were struck and fell from their horses at once, and startled horses reared.
The heavy bolts pierced through both man and beast and drove deep into the ground.
In an instant, the center where the command stood collapsed and became a feeding ground for iron bolts.
A junior officer atop the palisade prepared the next bolt.
The string was drawn again, and another bolt was laid onto it.
The heavy crossbow was originally a siege weapon.
It could reach farther, and with iron bolts attached its killing power was high.
The junior officer looked to the Great General’s face.
The Great General judged that the number of fallen enemies was not large.
A heavy bolt could fly twice as far as a normal arrow, but its accuracy fell off.
The broad central mass of the enemy heaved.
Cries of shock and pain tore through the frozen air.
“Fire.”
At the Great General’s command, the prepared crossbows loosed again.
They flew toward the same place, the same target.
Dozens of enemies fell, but Tareukcheol remained intact.
With a gesture, he signaled to pull back.
At his command, the enemy began to move rearward, as if to slip beyond the crossbows’ range.
They understood that if they simply widened the distance, nothing would happen.
They withdrew slowly without taking a serious blow.
The center that had taken the bolt-storm looked shaken, but against two thousand cavalry the damage was light.
The Great General halted the Baekryong unit’s sortie.
The enemy stepped back, but their formation did not break, and the damaged center was filled in again.
Thus they turned and slowly returned along the road they had come.
The heavy crossbows were reloaded, and they kept firing at the enemy as it backed away.
Fewer enemies fell than at first, but those still within range dropped from their horses.
There were simply too few heavy crossbows.
As a true offensive weapon, the heavy crossbow was difficult to manufacture, expensive, and hard to maintain.
Moreover, it was too heavy to load on horses, so long-distance transport was difficult, and the number they possessed was only a few dozen.
So it was obvious that they could not rout the enemy with heavy crossbows alone.
Unless the enemy attacked, the Han army could not decide the moment of battle.
If the enemy turned away and left, that was that.
The Great General smacked his lips.
He felt the limit of their low mobility.
They had too few mounts to fight cavalry with cavalry, and armored infantry could not chase mounted enemies.
If they pursued and the enemy turned, the enemy would wheel and strike.
The heavy bolts flew far enough, but that was the limit.
At best, it meant killing a handful at long range.
Because of darkness and distance, the bolts could not fly any farther.
Meanwhile, the Baekryong unit waited at the rear exit and received the order not to sortie.
The heavy crossbow attack had not been decisive.
Lee Hui clenched his fist and vented his frustration.
With fewer than three hundred cavalry, there was nothing they could do.
It was only natural that the Great General had ordered the sortie halted.
以卵擊石—striking a rock with an egg.
With three hundred, they could not do anything to two thousand.
Lee Hui wanted to charge out and fight with his own troops alone.
He wanted to win merit.
But whether the enemy knew that frustration or not, they slowly withdrew along the road they had come before dawn’s light fully rose.
The Baekryong unit’s role began there.
Lee Hui divided his men and ordered them to track the enemy.
No attacking.
To each squad leader, he gave three absolute rules: keep distance, report at fixed times, and conduct ambush and reconnaissance.