Chapter Forty-One: The Bloody Battle Begins

The bed crossbow consisted of one or several large bows mounted on a sturdy frame. By turning the axle at the rear, the bow was drawn, an arrow nocked, then fired by the combined strength of multiple bows, inflicting lethal damage upon the enemy. Its chief characteristics were immense power and long range: it could strike foes at three to four hundred paces, roughly five to six hundred meters away. However, its accuracy was limited. It was typically employed in massed volleys, raining death upon tightly packed enemy formations.

In the era of cold steel, the bed crossbow was the deadliest and farthest-reaching weapon. Its complex construction and high maintenance cost, however, limited its production, and its unwieldiness made it unsuitable for field battles. Yet during the height of the Tang Dynasty, wealth flowed like oil, and the imperial treasury knew no want. Weapons that were costly but devastating in their effect were produced in large numbers. At Tong Pass, there were twenty bed crossbows stationed at the gates, ten each at the east and south. As the rebel army approached, it was these formidable engines of war that greeted them first.

As soon as the rebels entered range, Li Fude, overseeing from the city walls, ordered his men to fire. At the other gate, Pang Zhong gave the same command. With their orders, teams of soldiers strained to draw the massive bows. At the shout of “Release!” dozens of thick, heavy bolts shot forth, arcing high before plunging into the distant ranks of the rebels.

Seeing the bolts launched from the wall, the rebels below reacted at once.

Their commander was well aware that the Tang defenders would open with the bed crossbows; many of his men had already fallen to these terrible weapons. As they neared the city and entered range, the leading colonel immediately ordered his troops to spread out, hoping to minimize casualties.

But whether at Han Tong Pass or Sui Tong Pass, the terrain outside the city was narrow, offering little room for maneuver. Troops advancing in dense formation had little chance to disperse quickly. Not knowing exactly when the Tang arrows would rain down, it was only after seeing the bolts in flight that urgent orders to scatter were given. By then, it was too late. However fast man or horse might move, they could not outpace the deadly bolts plummeting from the sky. In an instant, the long arrows fell among the rebel ranks thrown into chaos.

A soldier, a moment too slow and misjudging where the bolts would land, was struck squarely in the abdomen by a whistling shaft. The long bolt pierced his belly, passed through his body, and emerged from his back, a torrent of blood gushing from both wounds, drenching half his body and the earth beneath him—a wound that meant certain death. The same bolt, carrying on, embedded itself deep in the thigh of another soldier nearby. With a scream, he collapsed, trampled mercilessly by panicked comrades fleeing in all directions, each shriek blending into the next.

Another soldier, still mounted, was struck in the leg by a bolt. Its tremendous force did not stop there: the shaft tore through his leg and buried itself deep in his horse’s belly. The wounded animal collapsed at once, hurling its rider to the ground and pinning his head beneath its weight. Thus, though the soldier survived the missile, he was crushed to death by his own horse.

The bolts of the bed crossbow were enormous—by modern measure, between one and one and a half meters, sometimes even longer. Both shaft and head were many times thicker than ordinary arrows. Propelled by tremendous speed and force, anyone struck had only fate to blame.

As the bolts descended, screams of agony echoed through the rebel ranks. Those whose bodies were pierced died almost instantly. Unlucky horses struck by the massive shafts met immediate death as well. Some bolts passed through man or beast, then buried themselves in another victim—sometimes felling two or more with a single shot, a lethal efficiency all too common.

Yet, for all its power, the bed crossbow was not highly accurate. Some bolts flew wide, smashing into rocks nearby. Such was their momentum that they split stones or buried themselves deep in the rock.

“Hurry! Spread out! Once we reach the base of Tong Pass, the Tang arrows will be powerless against us!” the leading colonel bellowed, waving his sword at his panicked men.

He had led assaults against Tong Pass before and knew the devastation wrought by the bed crossbows. With no real way to avoid them, he could only urge his soldiers to disperse and press forward, hoping to use their numbers to force their way to the wall and return fire.

Once they could engage the defenders atop the wall, the tide might turn. But if they remained at this distance, the bed crossbows alone could break their spirits and scatter their ranks.

Fortunately, the number of bed crossbows was limited, and their volleys, though deadly, were few. With luck and quick wits, one might avoid them.

At the colonel’s command, the rebels hunched low, dodging the bolts as they rushed toward Han Tong Pass. Still, many unlucky souls were struck down far from the ruined walls, never to rise again.

On the city wall, both Li Fude and Pang Zhong watched the carnage and the rebels’ response. They understood that the bed crossbows’ scattered volleys, for all their terror, could not alone inflict decisive losses. More rebels would reach the wall, and the outcome would depend on the archers, whose arrows could reap a far greater harvest.

There were twenty bed crossbows atop Han Tong Pass, each firing eight to twelve bolts at a time—a full volley meant at most two hundred bolts. In contrast, two thousand archers could loose two thousand arrows in a single round. In terms of sheer damage, the archers’ bows were more formidable.

The bed crossbow was above all a weapon of psychological warfare, its long-range and destructive force sowing fear and hesitation among enemy ranks before they even closed with the walls.

Still, the bed crossbows continued their thunderous volleys, but more and more rebels slipped past their deadly hail, drawing closer to Tong Pass.

“Archers, ready your bows!”

From the east and south gates, Li Fude and Pang Zhong gave their orders almost in unison.