Rebellions against the Mongolian empire tended never to last very long. Yet, the fact that most of the army was in the South fighting did allow the rebellions a bit more space to attempt to disrupt Mongol supply lines than being close to the efficent and blood thirsty Mongolian army.
The rebel camp was quiet in the still day, the commanders pouring over maps to find the best defensible area to take control of, far enough away from the Mongolian supply lines to not be gone after extremely quickly, but far enough away to raid the supply lines to help the national Chinese armies in the South. IT was fairly quiet in the location they'd made camp, except for the occasional rambunctious poor rebel getting into a fight.
A bird flew off a nearby branch, and one of the commanders in the center, open area jumped. He looked shiftly around, scared that perhaps there might have been a Mongolian scout in the forest.
"Wu, you are far too jumpy. We haven't seen so much as a Mongolian scout this entire time, so stop your worrying. They're much too busy fighting the South, and their distraction will be our gain. Focus, we have to find a new place to make our base. This place is too open, and when the Mongolians retreat, they'll no doubt crush us first..."
Wu smiled uneasily at his fellow commander's words, trying to calm down. They were both extremely young. Too young to be fighting for survival against the Mongolian Empire. He'd heard many stories of their fighting prowess, and he'd never had an intention of testing it. Although, he never had an intention of being under occupation, either.
"Of course, your right. Our reports indicate that Mongol reinforcements won't be moving south towards the front for a few more months. That's why we're moving, isn't it? Still, I can't shake this feeling..." Wu shivered, despite the warm weather.
"Your just parnoid. Our scouts haven't reported anything at all in the past hour," his friend said easily, while the other commanders continued to argue about two fairly good positions.
The color drained completely from Wu's face. In a horrified voice, he turned to his friend, "Aren't they supposed to check in every half-hour?"
A moment of silence hung between them for a moment, before Wu turned and yelled at the top of his lungs, "ATACK! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
A whistling sound rang out through the air, its sound piercing hauntingly through the yell, until it stopped suddenly. A gurgle passed through Wu's lips, as thick blood bubbled from the arrow wound from his neck. A shock fell over the camp, and a sudden flurry of activity flew over the camp.
The Mongols had attacked.
*****
A refugee collasped bonelessly at the foot of Chinese national city, an early router from the rebel camp attack. He was pulled inside, and once they found out who he was, they took him to the town square. Military commanders and men crowded around with civilians alike, to hear what the broken man could say of the attack. After being given water, he managed to speak.
"They were Demons...Demons from hell. All I could was run from their bone chilling screams, from the very Demons of hell itself. Demons...demons," all the man could do now was repeat the word to himself, the various people of the city looking on in pity. What could have done this to a man?
Did the Mongols make a pact with the very demons of hell?
shaddap
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