Tomorrow's Dawn
Heroes Never Die
Although night attacks were the preferred method of Imperial warfare, the Siege of Rajavihara was conducted on the day of arrival to prevent word from running back down into Kampuchean Dai Viet for reinforcements.
On the sparsely jungled fields in front of the city of Rajavihara, Pvt. Ma laid tight behind the large wooden shield erected to protect the siege parties from Kampuchean arrow volleys. He shared the space behind the shield with the other men in his squad, all huddled behind it, pushing it gradually to advance on the walls of Rajavihara. With his hand firmly gripped onto the handle of his jian, he nervously waited for the order to drop the shield and charge. Peeking from the corner of the barrier, he could see hundreds of Kampuchean archers lined up on the ivory walls of the city laying down hate and discontent on the steadily advancing Chinese siege parties.
“Private! Stop peeking out and help push the shield!!” Captain Yue berated. The sickening thudding noises that the arrows made when coming into contact with the shield were terrifying to hear. If anyone stepped out from behind the siege shields, they would instantly be filled with dozens of arrows.
Overhead, the young Arab saw thousands of mud balls being flung from the supporting catapults behind them. On impact, they exploded into clouds of noxious gas that caused many of the wall-mounted archers to stop shooting and begin coughing and choking. The guard captains could be seen trying to order the defenders to cover up their mouths & noses and continue returning fire but the rate of fire had substantially dropped
“Now’s our chance!” Capt. Yue shouted. “Drop the shields and go!!!” All seven of the men lurched forward and slammed the shield onto the ground, making the charge. Around the charging squadron, the other numerous soldiers who had been crawling up against Kampuchean fire had also dropped their own shields, and began sprinting across the gap between them and the wall in order to mount their ladders.
“Scarves up! We’ll be going straight into the gas!” the Captain ordered as he helped Choi & Yang to mount the siege ladder. “Pvt. Ma!!! You’re up first! Morita, you follow and Shao, you’re to come after!” the tall Captain barked. Mohammed quickly heeded the order, tying his scarf up over his mouth and began to climb. He swiftly scaled up the ladder when a Kampuchean defender appeared just above him ready to skewer him with his spear. “This is it, I’m dead,” Mohammed thought. Just as the soldier lunged however, Mohammed heard a loud whistle and flinched in anticipation of the pain but looked up to see a Chinese ballistic missile fired from a catapult take the man’s head clean off, dribbling warm blood onto his face. Mohammed froze at that second, realizing that he was still alive.
“What are you doing?!” Pvt. Morita from beneath him called out, breaking him from out of his shock. “Climb, damnit!”
Now just realizing his place on the ladder, the private hustled up and over onto the wall.
The soldier tried to look around in the haze for any hostile soldiers as Pvt. Morita and Pvt. Shao had come up from below to back him up. Out of the toxic mist, came three Kampuchean soldiers charging with their spears and rattan shields in hand. Morita & Shao clashed with their respective opponents, trading blows while Mohammed found himself rushing forth, sword arm raised to strike. Locked in desperate struggle, Mohammed swung his jian at the opposing soldier who ducked it and raised his rattan shield to deflect the next incoming blow. The man suddenly threw off the shield and tackled the Arab, trying to make him plunge off the ramparts. Mohammed quickly recovered and pushed him back however. From the force of the push, the Cambodian lost his balance and fell over backwards into a clear drop. Mohammed watched in horror as the soldier fell to his death onto the street, splattered on the stone walkway. This was the first man he had ever killed.
Captain Yue and the rest of the men now joined the advance party on the ramparts and continued to skirmish with Cambodians all along the ramparts.
Occasionally, they would catch a few archers still suffering from the noxious gases and put them out of their misery through the sword.
Looking to his right, some men from another squadron had planted the Banner of the Emperor high up over the gleaming ivory walls. Sheung Shui & Shatin Wai had been overrun and now all forces received the order to advance into Kowloon and eliminate the military governor, who still manned a sizable garrison in the blueblood district. The governor, one of Ang Rithisak’s many sons was a fearful and selfish man. He knew the Chinese attack was coming but shut the gates to Kowloon district, keeping the city dwellers and other commoners out as sacrificial lambs to the Imperial Army in order to buy himself time to gather all of his possessions and escape from the city. Thousands of poorer Cambodians banged desperately on the Kowloon Gates, begging to get in to escape the invading Imperial Army, only to be greeted by a myriad of spears poking out the portholes.
As Mohammed and the rest of his squadron made their way through the streets amidst fleeing civilians and dead animals cluttering the streets, they found that resistance in the streets was at a minimum. Most of the remaining defenders were in Kowloon preparing to hold off the incoming assault from the Dragon Marauders. Mohammed, Capt. Yue & the rest of the squad made their way through the once gleaming streets, encountering little opposition. The stragglers that they occasionally met were easily cut down.
“Which way is it to Kowloon?” Capt. Yue asked as they made their way through the sprawling Rajavihara streets. “I don’t know! The street ends here!” Pvt. Choi said as they continued to run. It was true, the street came at a residential cul-de-sac, blocked off with a high apartment wall. “Let’s move into that alleyway then,” Capt. Yue directed as he cocked his head to the right. There was a narrow alleyway there overgrown with with weeds and loose gravel. “Pvt. Shao, you take point,”
“Yes sir,” the private said stoically as he took the lead position.
They made their way through a dirty-looking slum until they saw the pathway join into a street opening.
“Get back! Ballistas!!” Pvt. Shao screamed as he caught sight of the barricade upon turning the corner.
Just as he spun back onto the wall, a horrendous hail of arrows whooshed by the spot that he had once occupied.
It was accompanied by a mechanical whirring that indicated that it was reloading.
Peering past the other corner, the squad could see several bodies of fallen Imperial Dragon Marauders sprawled onto the small street,
with arrows dotting their chests & abdomens.
Judging from the placement of the fixed position ballista, the small squadron of Kampuchean soldiers was guarding a backdoor pathway to the front.
There had to be a method to getting through. The Captain quickly scanned their surroundings and came up with a plan on the spot.
He knew it was risky, but it was the only possible solution right now.
“Ma, Yang, Han, do you see that stone slab over there? It’s high enough for a few of you to get behind it as cover and provide a distraction.” the Captain said over the sound of ballista fire. He then turned to look at the walls. The distance between the walls was just close enough for a person to climb upwards with just their feet. “We’ll use that opportunity to get on the roof and come at them from above, while their attention is fixed on you.” he concluded. “Am I understood?” The three privates nodded in unison and waited for the break in the fire.
As soon as it stopped, Mohammed, Yang & Han all made a mad dash for the stone slab on the ground over by the other corner and took cover behind it just in time as another deathly spray of arrows zoomed over their heads. As they kept the Cambodians occupied, the Captain and the rest of the men climbed up onto the roof of the adjacent building, helping the next man down to get up one at a time.
As the three soldiers kept low, the Cambodian spotter barked an order to the ballista operator.
“Tilt the ballista fifteen degrees upward; we’ll skewer those bastards from above if they're just going to keep hiding!”
The mechanical clicking begun again, this time, made to adjust the angle of the bow.
“What’s going on?” Mohammed asked, “Why did they stop firing?”
“I don’t know,” his cousin whispered back. “I don’t like it,”
Pvt. Han kept silent and alert while the two cousins speculated.
At this moment, Capt. Yue and the other soldiers had made it onto the roof. As soon as they saw the operator begin tilting the machine upwards and noticed that the three privates on the ground were still behind cover, they made the leap downwards, surprising the ballista crew.
The two spearmen who guarded the ballista operators were caught off-guard and before they had a chance to raise their arms, the Captain and his men had already dropped to the ground, slashing their throats to ribbons. From behind the stone slab they were hiding against, Mohammed, Yang & Han hurdled up and over and began to charge. The ballista operators, now defenseless, were cut down with ease. Now the path was clear.
“Wait!” Pvt. Yang shouted. The men turned around and looked at him pointing to the unmanned ballista.
“Well, we can’t just leave this here, the enemy may get their hands on it again,” he said. “Then we take it with us,” the Captain said plainly. “Choi, Han, you two mount the machine on the wheels, and we’ll drag it out, but if it becomes a burden, then we abandon it,” After the ballista had been secured, the squad moved out through the empty streets until they made their way to the main street where most of Dragon Marauders had gathered to break through Kowloon Gate. Many of the civilians had already been apprehended by Dragon Marauders and brought to a separate quarter of the city while the other soldiers continued the siege.
Now that the streets had been cleared of any resistance, the Dragon Marauder artillery divisions were able to move their pieces in position and begin whittling away at the archers mounted on top of the Kowloon Gate in order to cover the battering ram teams on the ground.
A runner took notice of Mohammed's squadron and approached to them with a message. “You’ve captured a ballista? Very good! Orders from the top say to all squadrons with captured ballista pieces to mount the roofs and take out those archers potshotting our men,” “How are we supposed to use the enemy weaponry though? We’re not artillerymen,” Pvt. Yang asked. The runner shook his head, “Have any of you used a Cho-Ko-Nu before in training?” Pvt. Choi & Pvt. Han nodded. “The Kampucheans stole the Yu Hai design and made it bigger. It’s based on the same principles except modified for artillery use,” the runner explained. “The only difference is that you need a spotter and another operator to crank the triggers into position after each volley. Now go! There’s ramps set up for you to pull the ballista onto the roof over there,” he said as he pointed to an adjacent building.
With great effort, the seven soldiers lifted the ballista onto the roof through the makeshift ramps and set it up in the corner of the building. Mohammed was tasked standing by the giant bow with a large shield in hand, in order to protect the shooter from return fire. Pvt. Choi was designated as the shooter while Pvt. Han fixed the gears, readying it for fire. The Corean soldier then pulled the lever back and inserted the arrow cartridge into the slot. After taking aim, he fired ten arrows in succession at a cluster of Kampuchean archers mounted on the wall, successively dropping each of them with a single shot.
The men on the ground pushing the ram were making significant progress. After repeated charges, the Gate was starting to give way. “HEAVE!!!” the ranking officer shouted. “Put your backs into it!!!” With a loud crash, the Gate was forced open, revealing several Kampuchean defenders from behind the giant door who had been knocked onto the ground through the impact of the battering ram. “Go! Go! Go! Go into the district! All personnel unless noted otherwise are to move into Kowloon and find the Governor!” the ranking officer at the front shouted. The Marauders at the front drew their swords and began to run through the opening, slaughtering the morale-deprived defenders.
“You heard him!” the Captain shouted. “We’re joining the men at the front, let’s go!” Abandoning the ballista gun, the seven soldiers dropped back onto ground level and joined the hundreds of troops pouring through the devastated Gate. Dashing past the carnage around them, the squad stayed true to the objective and made haste towards the harbor, where the governor was expected to escape the city from. Blocking their way was a huge battle in the open street between the last Kampuchean defenders and the advance party of Dragon Marauders who had went through the Gate first. With no choice but to jump into the throng, the squad drew their swords and hurried into battle.
At the beginning of the siege, Mohammed’s nervousness had almost overtaken him, nearly costing him his life. But now, he was thoroughly desensitized and the sword fighting techniques he learned in boot camp were all coming back to him now as he dove into the heat of battle. It was almost as if he had fallen into a trance. One slash and another falls. An axe comes this way; duck and slash him as he turns. Clashing with a blade, riposte and knock him to the ground…and then stab him while he’s writhing on the ground. The Arab only snapped out of the blood frenzy when he began to taste iron in his mouth. The street was cleared and no more enemies remained.
The soldiers who had been fighting since they arrived had moved to the side streets to gauge losses and catch their breaths but Captain Yue’s squadron was still fresh and pushed onto the harbor. It was now within sight. Mohammed and his cousin were among the first soldiers to reach the edge of the harbor.
But it was too late. By the time they had gotten there and deprived the last defenders atop the wooden planks of their lives, Mohammed saw the fleet of Kampuchean vessels far on the horizon, far from reach of the ground forces. “Forget about him, Private,” the Captain said. “We’ll leave him to the Tortoise Armada. You can rest now though, the battle is over,”
“The battle is over?” Mohammed asked, shocked.
“Yes Private, you can turn around and see for yourself,” the Captain replied.
Over atop the governor’s residence, the Flag of the God-King had been thrown to the wind and replaced with the Banner of the Emperor.
Mohammed was exhausted. He realized he was out of breath and covered in blood and sweat. His joints felt like they were on fire from exerting himself so hard. But it was over and he had an opportunity to rest. The young Arab slumped back onto the side of a wall and could think of nothing except for the fact that he survived.
The assembled civilians stood nervously before the wide street in front of Kowloon Gate staring at a robed Han man standing atop the once proud fortification. They knew that the some sort of arrangement had occurred because the Han & Kinh quarters of the city had been virtually untouched by the Imperial Army. As they were all Cambodian and not Han or Kinh, they had no idea what their captors had in store for them. For all they knew, they could’ve been herded up for an easy massacre to set an example to the rest of the Cambodians.
“This is what we’re going to do,” the robed speaker atop the Gate announced in Cambodian. “We know you have been under the yoke of the God-King for too long. You may have feared that we were going to be cruel overlords but that isn’t the image the Emperor wants us to project. We want to cultivate good relations with our new subjects. Only the Kowloon District of your former overlords will be subject to military looting. Your homes & livelihoods are safe. On top of that, you, the civilian populace are granted one day of looting in the Kowloon District before the Army goes in to take what is theirs.“
“There are two requirements of course. The first one being that as of this moment, you swear your loyalty to the House of Xia and denounce your status as a Kampuchean citizen. The second being that you are only allowed to take what you can carry with your arms. But if anyone is caught going in or coming out with a cart or a beast of burden, my terms become void and you will be killed on sight. Fair enough? This grace period will expire in twelve hours starting right…now.”
The eyes of the captured civilians widened. It wasn’t too long ago that their governor and his soldiers had abandoned them to the devices of the Imperial Army, practically leaving them to die. And now, not only were their assets more or less intact, but they were given the opportunity to take revenge on those that abandoned them that had still remained.
There was no love for a country that would abandon them so easily to an invading army. In near unanimous consent, the Cambodians shouted gleefully into the air, “Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!” The speaker smiled. This was satisfactory. Kowloon Gate was subsequently opened, leading to a stampede of looters entering the district. Captured noblemen under house arrest were shocked to find that the looters were not the occupying army but the common city dwellers of Rajavihara, eager to strip away the gilded linings of their oppressors’ ill-begotten lifestyles. In the following days to come, many of the nobility & the wealthy in the city who had the misfortune to be left behind committed suicide while the rest of the city reveled in the redistribution of wealth.
The war had gotten off to a good start.
On the sparsely jungled fields in front of the city of Rajavihara, Pvt. Ma laid tight behind the large wooden shield erected to protect the siege parties from Kampuchean arrow volleys. He shared the space behind the shield with the other men in his squad, all huddled behind it, pushing it gradually to advance on the walls of Rajavihara. With his hand firmly gripped onto the handle of his jian, he nervously waited for the order to drop the shield and charge. Peeking from the corner of the barrier, he could see hundreds of Kampuchean archers lined up on the ivory walls of the city laying down hate and discontent on the steadily advancing Chinese siege parties.
“Private! Stop peeking out and help push the shield!!” Captain Yue berated. The sickening thudding noises that the arrows made when coming into contact with the shield were terrifying to hear. If anyone stepped out from behind the siege shields, they would instantly be filled with dozens of arrows.
Overhead, the young Arab saw thousands of mud balls being flung from the supporting catapults behind them. On impact, they exploded into clouds of noxious gas that caused many of the wall-mounted archers to stop shooting and begin coughing and choking. The guard captains could be seen trying to order the defenders to cover up their mouths & noses and continue returning fire but the rate of fire had substantially dropped
“Now’s our chance!” Capt. Yue shouted. “Drop the shields and go!!!” All seven of the men lurched forward and slammed the shield onto the ground, making the charge. Around the charging squadron, the other numerous soldiers who had been crawling up against Kampuchean fire had also dropped their own shields, and began sprinting across the gap between them and the wall in order to mount their ladders.
“Scarves up! We’ll be going straight into the gas!” the Captain ordered as he helped Choi & Yang to mount the siege ladder. “Pvt. Ma!!! You’re up first! Morita, you follow and Shao, you’re to come after!” the tall Captain barked. Mohammed quickly heeded the order, tying his scarf up over his mouth and began to climb. He swiftly scaled up the ladder when a Kampuchean defender appeared just above him ready to skewer him with his spear. “This is it, I’m dead,” Mohammed thought. Just as the soldier lunged however, Mohammed heard a loud whistle and flinched in anticipation of the pain but looked up to see a Chinese ballistic missile fired from a catapult take the man’s head clean off, dribbling warm blood onto his face. Mohammed froze at that second, realizing that he was still alive.
“What are you doing?!” Pvt. Morita from beneath him called out, breaking him from out of his shock. “Climb, damnit!”
Now just realizing his place on the ladder, the private hustled up and over onto the wall.
The soldier tried to look around in the haze for any hostile soldiers as Pvt. Morita and Pvt. Shao had come up from below to back him up. Out of the toxic mist, came three Kampuchean soldiers charging with their spears and rattan shields in hand. Morita & Shao clashed with their respective opponents, trading blows while Mohammed found himself rushing forth, sword arm raised to strike. Locked in desperate struggle, Mohammed swung his jian at the opposing soldier who ducked it and raised his rattan shield to deflect the next incoming blow. The man suddenly threw off the shield and tackled the Arab, trying to make him plunge off the ramparts. Mohammed quickly recovered and pushed him back however. From the force of the push, the Cambodian lost his balance and fell over backwards into a clear drop. Mohammed watched in horror as the soldier fell to his death onto the street, splattered on the stone walkway. This was the first man he had ever killed.
Captain Yue and the rest of the men now joined the advance party on the ramparts and continued to skirmish with Cambodians all along the ramparts.
Occasionally, they would catch a few archers still suffering from the noxious gases and put them out of their misery through the sword.
Looking to his right, some men from another squadron had planted the Banner of the Emperor high up over the gleaming ivory walls. Sheung Shui & Shatin Wai had been overrun and now all forces received the order to advance into Kowloon and eliminate the military governor, who still manned a sizable garrison in the blueblood district. The governor, one of Ang Rithisak’s many sons was a fearful and selfish man. He knew the Chinese attack was coming but shut the gates to Kowloon district, keeping the city dwellers and other commoners out as sacrificial lambs to the Imperial Army in order to buy himself time to gather all of his possessions and escape from the city. Thousands of poorer Cambodians banged desperately on the Kowloon Gates, begging to get in to escape the invading Imperial Army, only to be greeted by a myriad of spears poking out the portholes.
As Mohammed and the rest of his squadron made their way through the streets amidst fleeing civilians and dead animals cluttering the streets, they found that resistance in the streets was at a minimum. Most of the remaining defenders were in Kowloon preparing to hold off the incoming assault from the Dragon Marauders. Mohammed, Capt. Yue & the rest of the squad made their way through the once gleaming streets, encountering little opposition. The stragglers that they occasionally met were easily cut down.
“Which way is it to Kowloon?” Capt. Yue asked as they made their way through the sprawling Rajavihara streets. “I don’t know! The street ends here!” Pvt. Choi said as they continued to run. It was true, the street came at a residential cul-de-sac, blocked off with a high apartment wall. “Let’s move into that alleyway then,” Capt. Yue directed as he cocked his head to the right. There was a narrow alleyway there overgrown with with weeds and loose gravel. “Pvt. Shao, you take point,”
“Yes sir,” the private said stoically as he took the lead position.
They made their way through a dirty-looking slum until they saw the pathway join into a street opening.
“Get back! Ballistas!!” Pvt. Shao screamed as he caught sight of the barricade upon turning the corner.
Just as he spun back onto the wall, a horrendous hail of arrows whooshed by the spot that he had once occupied.
It was accompanied by a mechanical whirring that indicated that it was reloading.
Peering past the other corner, the squad could see several bodies of fallen Imperial Dragon Marauders sprawled onto the small street,
with arrows dotting their chests & abdomens.
Judging from the placement of the fixed position ballista, the small squadron of Kampuchean soldiers was guarding a backdoor pathway to the front.
There had to be a method to getting through. The Captain quickly scanned their surroundings and came up with a plan on the spot.
He knew it was risky, but it was the only possible solution right now.
“Ma, Yang, Han, do you see that stone slab over there? It’s high enough for a few of you to get behind it as cover and provide a distraction.” the Captain said over the sound of ballista fire. He then turned to look at the walls. The distance between the walls was just close enough for a person to climb upwards with just their feet. “We’ll use that opportunity to get on the roof and come at them from above, while their attention is fixed on you.” he concluded. “Am I understood?” The three privates nodded in unison and waited for the break in the fire.
As soon as it stopped, Mohammed, Yang & Han all made a mad dash for the stone slab on the ground over by the other corner and took cover behind it just in time as another deathly spray of arrows zoomed over their heads. As they kept the Cambodians occupied, the Captain and the rest of the men climbed up onto the roof of the adjacent building, helping the next man down to get up one at a time.
As the three soldiers kept low, the Cambodian spotter barked an order to the ballista operator.
“Tilt the ballista fifteen degrees upward; we’ll skewer those bastards from above if they're just going to keep hiding!”
The mechanical clicking begun again, this time, made to adjust the angle of the bow.
“What’s going on?” Mohammed asked, “Why did they stop firing?”
“I don’t know,” his cousin whispered back. “I don’t like it,”
Pvt. Han kept silent and alert while the two cousins speculated.
At this moment, Capt. Yue and the other soldiers had made it onto the roof. As soon as they saw the operator begin tilting the machine upwards and noticed that the three privates on the ground were still behind cover, they made the leap downwards, surprising the ballista crew.
The two spearmen who guarded the ballista operators were caught off-guard and before they had a chance to raise their arms, the Captain and his men had already dropped to the ground, slashing their throats to ribbons. From behind the stone slab they were hiding against, Mohammed, Yang & Han hurdled up and over and began to charge. The ballista operators, now defenseless, were cut down with ease. Now the path was clear.
“Wait!” Pvt. Yang shouted. The men turned around and looked at him pointing to the unmanned ballista.
“Well, we can’t just leave this here, the enemy may get their hands on it again,” he said. “Then we take it with us,” the Captain said plainly. “Choi, Han, you two mount the machine on the wheels, and we’ll drag it out, but if it becomes a burden, then we abandon it,” After the ballista had been secured, the squad moved out through the empty streets until they made their way to the main street where most of Dragon Marauders had gathered to break through Kowloon Gate. Many of the civilians had already been apprehended by Dragon Marauders and brought to a separate quarter of the city while the other soldiers continued the siege.
Now that the streets had been cleared of any resistance, the Dragon Marauder artillery divisions were able to move their pieces in position and begin whittling away at the archers mounted on top of the Kowloon Gate in order to cover the battering ram teams on the ground.
A runner took notice of Mohammed's squadron and approached to them with a message. “You’ve captured a ballista? Very good! Orders from the top say to all squadrons with captured ballista pieces to mount the roofs and take out those archers potshotting our men,” “How are we supposed to use the enemy weaponry though? We’re not artillerymen,” Pvt. Yang asked. The runner shook his head, “Have any of you used a Cho-Ko-Nu before in training?” Pvt. Choi & Pvt. Han nodded. “The Kampucheans stole the Yu Hai design and made it bigger. It’s based on the same principles except modified for artillery use,” the runner explained. “The only difference is that you need a spotter and another operator to crank the triggers into position after each volley. Now go! There’s ramps set up for you to pull the ballista onto the roof over there,” he said as he pointed to an adjacent building.
With great effort, the seven soldiers lifted the ballista onto the roof through the makeshift ramps and set it up in the corner of the building. Mohammed was tasked standing by the giant bow with a large shield in hand, in order to protect the shooter from return fire. Pvt. Choi was designated as the shooter while Pvt. Han fixed the gears, readying it for fire. The Corean soldier then pulled the lever back and inserted the arrow cartridge into the slot. After taking aim, he fired ten arrows in succession at a cluster of Kampuchean archers mounted on the wall, successively dropping each of them with a single shot.
The men on the ground pushing the ram were making significant progress. After repeated charges, the Gate was starting to give way. “HEAVE!!!” the ranking officer shouted. “Put your backs into it!!!” With a loud crash, the Gate was forced open, revealing several Kampuchean defenders from behind the giant door who had been knocked onto the ground through the impact of the battering ram. “Go! Go! Go! Go into the district! All personnel unless noted otherwise are to move into Kowloon and find the Governor!” the ranking officer at the front shouted. The Marauders at the front drew their swords and began to run through the opening, slaughtering the morale-deprived defenders.
“You heard him!” the Captain shouted. “We’re joining the men at the front, let’s go!” Abandoning the ballista gun, the seven soldiers dropped back onto ground level and joined the hundreds of troops pouring through the devastated Gate. Dashing past the carnage around them, the squad stayed true to the objective and made haste towards the harbor, where the governor was expected to escape the city from. Blocking their way was a huge battle in the open street between the last Kampuchean defenders and the advance party of Dragon Marauders who had went through the Gate first. With no choice but to jump into the throng, the squad drew their swords and hurried into battle.
At the beginning of the siege, Mohammed’s nervousness had almost overtaken him, nearly costing him his life. But now, he was thoroughly desensitized and the sword fighting techniques he learned in boot camp were all coming back to him now as he dove into the heat of battle. It was almost as if he had fallen into a trance. One slash and another falls. An axe comes this way; duck and slash him as he turns. Clashing with a blade, riposte and knock him to the ground…and then stab him while he’s writhing on the ground. The Arab only snapped out of the blood frenzy when he began to taste iron in his mouth. The street was cleared and no more enemies remained.
The soldiers who had been fighting since they arrived had moved to the side streets to gauge losses and catch their breaths but Captain Yue’s squadron was still fresh and pushed onto the harbor. It was now within sight. Mohammed and his cousin were among the first soldiers to reach the edge of the harbor.
But it was too late. By the time they had gotten there and deprived the last defenders atop the wooden planks of their lives, Mohammed saw the fleet of Kampuchean vessels far on the horizon, far from reach of the ground forces. “Forget about him, Private,” the Captain said. “We’ll leave him to the Tortoise Armada. You can rest now though, the battle is over,”
“The battle is over?” Mohammed asked, shocked.
“Yes Private, you can turn around and see for yourself,” the Captain replied.
Over atop the governor’s residence, the Flag of the God-King had been thrown to the wind and replaced with the Banner of the Emperor.
Mohammed was exhausted. He realized he was out of breath and covered in blood and sweat. His joints felt like they were on fire from exerting himself so hard. But it was over and he had an opportunity to rest. The young Arab slumped back onto the side of a wall and could think of nothing except for the fact that he survived.
The assembled civilians stood nervously before the wide street in front of Kowloon Gate staring at a robed Han man standing atop the once proud fortification. They knew that the some sort of arrangement had occurred because the Han & Kinh quarters of the city had been virtually untouched by the Imperial Army. As they were all Cambodian and not Han or Kinh, they had no idea what their captors had in store for them. For all they knew, they could’ve been herded up for an easy massacre to set an example to the rest of the Cambodians.
“This is what we’re going to do,” the robed speaker atop the Gate announced in Cambodian. “We know you have been under the yoke of the God-King for too long. You may have feared that we were going to be cruel overlords but that isn’t the image the Emperor wants us to project. We want to cultivate good relations with our new subjects. Only the Kowloon District of your former overlords will be subject to military looting. Your homes & livelihoods are safe. On top of that, you, the civilian populace are granted one day of looting in the Kowloon District before the Army goes in to take what is theirs.“
“There are two requirements of course. The first one being that as of this moment, you swear your loyalty to the House of Xia and denounce your status as a Kampuchean citizen. The second being that you are only allowed to take what you can carry with your arms. But if anyone is caught going in or coming out with a cart or a beast of burden, my terms become void and you will be killed on sight. Fair enough? This grace period will expire in twelve hours starting right…now.”
The eyes of the captured civilians widened. It wasn’t too long ago that their governor and his soldiers had abandoned them to the devices of the Imperial Army, practically leaving them to die. And now, not only were their assets more or less intact, but they were given the opportunity to take revenge on those that abandoned them that had still remained.
There was no love for a country that would abandon them so easily to an invading army. In near unanimous consent, the Cambodians shouted gleefully into the air, “Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!” The speaker smiled. This was satisfactory. Kowloon Gate was subsequently opened, leading to a stampede of looters entering the district. Captured noblemen under house arrest were shocked to find that the looters were not the occupying army but the common city dwellers of Rajavihara, eager to strip away the gilded linings of their oppressors’ ill-begotten lifestyles. In the following days to come, many of the nobility & the wealthy in the city who had the misfortune to be left behind committed suicide while the rest of the city reveled in the redistribution of wealth.
The war had gotten off to a good start.
