Chapter 331. Ah, Liaoyang
Two thousand cavalrymen halted before the southern gate of Liaoyang.
To the north, the Taizi River curved around the city as though embracing it, while to the east a smaller stream ran through low ground and dampened the soil.
Near the waterways, the earth was soft and reeds tangled thickly, making it difficult for horses to run freely.
Go Youngchang turned the army south.
Beyond the southern gate lay a wide open plain, dry enough for wagons, horses, and soldiers to deploy.
Liaoyang stood black beneath the dusty light of dawn.
The city walls stretched across a low rise, layers of reinforced brick and packed earth visible over the old earthen fortifications.
It was a city where the ages had accumulated one upon another—first the old site once called Liaodong Fortress of Goguryeo, then Balhae, and finally Liao.
A dry moat surrounded the walls.
Inside it, mud that had frozen and thawed through the night lay black and heavy.
The southern gate remained firmly shut behind thick wooden doors.
A Liao banner hung above the gate tower, its fabric sagging and then lifting weakly in the wind.
Below the tower, soldiers holding spears stood packed together, while archers peered out between the battlements.
Their armor was mismatched.
Beneath their helmets, their eyes carried both exhaustion and vigilance.
Even from a distance, it was obvious that many had been gathered in haste from within the city.
The road before the gate was deeply scarred by wagon wheels.
Merchants, supply wagons, and horse drivers had worn the road down over many years.
Now broken axles, abandoned bundles of straw, and grains spilled during hurried unloading lay scattered across it.
The signs of frantic movement remained from just before the gates had been closed.
Somewhere inside the city came the faint crowing of chickens and barking of dogs.
Then the sound was swallowed by drums from the walls.
The Balhae soldiers stopped beyond arrow range of the southern gate.
Their horses steamed after the long march, and the men dismounted and shortened their reins.
The cavalrymen in front checked the ground and drove stakes into the earth.
Banners rose behind them, and wagons were positioned in a broad semicircle.
The worn Balhae banners and Go Youngchang's standard snapped in the wind.
The camp was deployed quickly, but the movements remained calm.
Sentries faced the gate with their spears raised.
Archers opened their quivers beside their horses.
Some retightened armor cords.
Some removed saddles and wiped the wet backs of their horses.
Others dug shallow pits for small cooking fires.
Spare arrows and horse fodder were unloaded behind the wagons.
When Go Youngchang gave orders, the soldiers answered in low voices and dispersed to their assigned places.
Youngwoo remained on horseback and stared up at the southern gate for a long time.
This was a city containing the granaries and offices of Liaodong, the memory of Balhae, and the military authority of Liao all at once.
Behind those gates were the families and relatives of the Balhae soldiers.
There too were Xiao Baoxian's offices and storehouses.
Some inside would be waiting for the gates to open.
Others would fear the very moment they did.
Someone atop the wall struck a drum.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The short, harsh sound rolled out over the field beyond the southern gate.
Inside the city, urgent footsteps and shouted orders spread rapidly.
Even outside the walls, the answering cries of soldiers repeating commands could be heard clearly.
Within the Balhae ranks came the low sounds of horses and clashing metal.
No blood had yet been spilled on the plain before Liaoyang's southern gate.
Yet the air already carried the breath of a battlefield moments before fighting began.
Xiao Baoxian looked down at the Balhae formation spread across the field and laughed.
Only two thousand cavalry.
It might have been troublesome if the soldiers and people inside the city had risen together.
But these men were outside the walls.
Between them stood thick fortifications, closed gates, a deep moat, and a gate tower filled with defensive weapons.
Xiao Baoxian climbed the southern gate tower.
Over a thick official robe reinforced with leather, he wore armor.
At his waist hung an ornate sword covered in decoration.
It was not a blade meant for fighting.
It was a blade meant to impress those who received his orders.
Behind him stood officers of the Eastern Capital administration and defenders gathered in haste.
Soldiers peering through the battlements quickly moved aside for him.
Xiao Baoxian stepped close to the railing and looked out across the southern plain.
The Balhae formation was small.
Their horses were exhausted after the long march.
Their banners were old.
Their armor and helmets were all different, making them look almost like a rabble.
Among them he could see Go Youngchang and Go Hoewon.
Xiao Baoxian recognized them.
Men who had once received orders from below him.
Men who had worn Liao uniforms and eaten Liao grain.
Now they stood outside his walls under the name of Balhae.
It was laughable.
Xiao Baoxian's mouth twisted.
If he simply closed the gates and endured, it would be the men outside who went hungry first.
It looked as though he could scatter their entire formation simply by sending out a modest force.
He leaned forward over the gate tower.
The wind tugged at his robe.
Xiao Baoxian raised his voice toward the field below.
"Go Youngchang!"
Every soldier on the walls looked down at once.
"You ate the grain of Liao and placed your name on the military registers of Liao. How dare you bring your horse before these gates?
"Is that what you call an army?
"Those beggars?
"That wandering rabble?"
His laughter spilled down from the gate tower.
Thin and frivolous.
"You heard that Jin won at Hubodagang and thought the world had already changed?
"Liaoyang is not a city that can be taken by your shouting."
Go Youngchang's face hardened.
A low breath passed through the Balhae ranks.
Youngwoo sat on horseback and looked up at Xiao Baoxian.
Okjeong slowly covered the small repeating crossbow on her wrist.
Go Hoewon narrowed his eyes and studied the deployment of troops along the wall.
Seeing even that, Xiao Baoxian laughed louder.
"Still dreaming of old Balhae?
"Do you truly believe you can shake a living empire by speaking the name of a dead kingdom?
"If you came begging for me to open the gates, kneel.
"Then perhaps I will consider allowing you to live."
Several officers atop the gate tower laughed with him.
But the soldiers farther along the wall did not.
Especially those whose faces marked them as Balhae.
Their eyes remained fixed on Go Youngchang, Go Hoewon, and the worn Balhae banners outside the city.
There was regret in their expressions.
Pain.
And the dark look of men who already suspected what would soon be demanded of them.
Xiao Baoxian did not notice the eyes of his own soldiers.
He was counting only the two thousand cavalry outside the walls.
He could not count the hearts inside the city that had already begun to waver.