Chapter Thirty-One: The Twelve Fortresses Cannot Be Abandoned

“Hmm, Commander Yang’s words are most reasonable. I agree! Let us set out together with Commander Yang to lead our officers in a patrol around the city. If Commander Yang has any suggestions, please speak freely—I shall heed your advice!”

This reply from Ge Shu Han put Yang Xi’s mind even more at ease. The old general was truly being cooperative. Although he did not fully understand what had prompted Ge Shu Han to change his attitude so drastically in just half a day, Yang Xi believed that concern for the greater good was certainly a key reason. Upon his arrival, he had conducted himself with openness and integrity, and backed it with concrete action. For a commander defeated in battle like Ge Shu Han, to cling to old grudges in such a moment, disregarding the larger situation, would be indefensible.

In times of crisis, speed was of the essence. Soon after the order was given, all the officers assembled before Ge Shu Han’s command tent.

Sometimes, to set forth with all the officers together, rather than gathering atop the city walls, was to create an imposing display of force—a show of formidable unity.

Seeing that all were present, Yang Xi saluted Ge Shu Han and said, “Marshal Ge Shu, to boost the morale of our soldiers, I request to accompany you as you inspect the city walls and encourage our troops.”

Ge Shu Han returned the salute, then commanded in a loud voice, “All officers, follow me and Commander Yang as we patrol the city!”

He then strode toward his warhorse, his movements hampered by injury, while several attendants hurried to help him mount. Yang Xi quickly followed, and the rest of the officers arranged themselves in rank order behind them.

The patrol began at the East Gate and proceeded in sequence through the southeast, west, and north.

All the soldiers, upon receiving their orders, assembled and waited at their respective gates to be reviewed by the officers. The day was hot, and to conserve morale, the soldiers were arrayed in formation in the shade cast by the gate towers, avoiding direct sunlight.

It was already past noon, and the sun had shifted westward, casting large shadows before the gates, which offered the defenders some relief. When there was no immediate threat, even the troops on the walls could seek respite in the cool beneath the towers.

A column of officers, astride tall warhorses, patrolled each city gate in turn. At each, they addressed the soldiers, assuring them that their forces would hold Tongguan and defeat the rebels. Though it was a display, it truly served to inspire the troops.

A single cowardly soldier is no threat, but cowardly leaders breed cowardice in the ranks. When the officers projected such confidence and resolve, it was inevitable that the morale of their men would be lifted.

Yang Xi also took this opportunity to familiarize himself with the terrain at each gate, especially the south gate, where the great fire had not yet burned out but the natural barrier of the Forbidden Ravine had reemerged; he now had a clearer understanding of the situation there.

The Forbidden Ravine was essentially a gorge-like formation, which Yang Xi estimated to be between five and thirty meters deep, and ten to fifty meters wide, running for dozens of li to the southeast of Tongguan, coming closest at the south gate.

Without a suspension bridge connecting to the road outside, even monkeys would find it difficult to cross.

To the west of the Forbidden Ravine stood the Twelve Linked Forts—twenty small beacon towers in total—guarding the ravine. Together, the Forbidden Ravine and the Twelve Linked Forts formed a formidable defense for Tongguan. Unfortunately, so many Tang soldiers had fled back that they had filled a section of the ravine with their bodies, turning it into a passage.

With the ravine thus filled, the garrisons of the Twelve Linked Forts had either fled or been withdrawn by Ge Shu Han.

Each of these forts was a small beacon tower, garrisoned by only about a hundred men. With the natural barrier intact, a hundred defenders could easily hold off enemy assaults, but if the ravine was filled with corpses, the forts’ value diminished greatly. For this reason, after regrouping the routed troops within the city, Ge Shu Han had withdrawn most of the soldiers from the Twelve Linked Forts.

Originally, the Forbidden Ravine had been covered in brushwood, and where it was not blocked by corpses, the original terrain could still be seen. However, outside the south gate, the ravine was entirely clogged with bodies. At dawn, Ge Shu Han had ordered oil poured on the corpses and set alight, but with so many bodies, it was impossible to burn them all. After half a day, nearly half were consumed, but the rest, piled below, would not ignite unless someone went down to clear away the ash and charcoal, add more oil and dry grass, and set it ablaze once more.

But it was now impossible to send soldiers down to clear it—temperatures were too high; anyone would be scalded to death.

Nevertheless, the burning had partially restored the ravine’s role as a natural moat, regaining some of its defensive power. At the very least, the rebels could no longer cross the ravine atop the bodies to reach the city’s walls.

“Marshal Ge Shu,” Yang Xi said solemnly after thoroughly examining the terrain at the south gate, “in my opinion, the Twelve Linked Forts should not be abandoned. We must re-garrison them. With the forts guarding the natural barrier of the Forbidden Ravine, the rebels will pay tenfold in casualties to reach Tongguan’s walls! The ravine has already been cleared to sufficient depth to serve as a defense. To abandon the Twelve Linked Forts now is to give up half of Tongguan’s natural advantage!”

Yang Xi could not quite fathom it—how could Ge Shu Han abandon the vital defense line of the Twelve Linked Forts, and with it the Han Tongguan as well? If the city was to be held, these positions had to be defended.

Tongguan’s natural strength lay not simply in the height of its walls or its difficulty to assault, but in the way the city and its surrounding terrain formed an unassailable fortress. The rebels, attacking from the east, would have to overcome the daunting geography, seize the outer defensive positions, and only then assault the city itself.

If troops were stationed at Han Tongguan and the Twelve Linked Forts, the rebels would first have to capture Han Tongguan, then take the forts, then cross the ravine before they could even reach the city walls and launch their attack. Though Han Tongguan and the forts could not be heavily garrisoned, overcoming these strongpoints would still exact a heavy price.

When Yang Xi first arrived and began deploying defenses, he had only heard descriptions of Tongguan’s terrain and strongpoints from others; he had not seen them for himself, and thus had no concrete conception. He had only surveyed the situation at the east gate, fearing an immediate assault from the rebels, and neglected the other directions—a miscalculation on his part. Now, after this inspection, he clearly understood the lay of the land, and his initial deployment took on deeper meaning: the Twelve Linked Forts must be manned again.

If Han Tongguan could be garrisoned with two thousand troops, the rebels would need at least ten times that number to take it. To annihilate the defenders there would cost them several times their own losses.

Each strongpoint of the Twelve Linked Forts could only be held by a hundred men, but to seize each would cost the enemy ten times that number.

Stationing men in these positions would not only serve as advanced defensive units for Tongguan, effectively delaying and impeding the rebels’ assault, but would also inflict heavy casualties on them.

To lose a hundred men in exchange for killing several hundred or even a thousand rebels—how could such an advantageous bargain be passed up?