134 The long march homeward

 "Is everything ready?" Second Master looked toward his orderly.What would he do without this man? So good at his job, so indispensable. He smiled inwardly, 'I will reward this man when I get back,' then he thought again, 'if we get back'.

He looked at the army surrounding another one and wondered if he and his troops would be able to keep order.

"Sir," the orderly brought him back to the present moment. "I have arranged for you to give a speech before we leave, as you requested. The cart is ready, so as soon as you want to..."
"I'll go now." He turned to the orderly, "No time like the present and the sooner this part is completed, the sooner we get moving again. I know the men want to get home, as we all do, so, lead the way." 

With that, the orderly took the lead with the Second Master in all his finery, followed on behind. Members of Twin Hammers bowed as he passed. They revered his sound leadership and his strong arm. He had shown numerous times he was a man to be feared and his temper was like his father's, erasable and fierce. Many a man had been beaten by him for insubordination; he ran a very tight discipline indeed. The men of Mu had learned the hard way just how quick this man was. Punishments had been tossed out like confetti; men had been flogged in public, branded a traitor, tongue guards inserted and a few castrated for soliciting and raping. Whipping was common and again this was done in public. The men had learned to pray he didn't carry out the punishments. His strength of arm from the forge was such that one strike from the barbed whip ripped more than just skin, it went deep into the bone.

Silently they all watched as he climbed onto the now, famous cart, and prepared to listen to one of his speeches. Was this to be the last one before they move? Finally?

"Gentlemen," Second Master looked around at friend and foe alike, "we move today and we will march out of here, heading down through the lands of Shipao. Those who are injured or incapacitated have already left and are heading back via the lands of Liú, following, hopefully, a less arduous trip." At this point he turned to the prisoners, "I tell you this so you are aware what has become of the wounded and dying. We respect individuals rights to medical care and attention. We respect the individual to die with dignity even if they had been attempting to kill us in the first place. However, that does not make us a easy target and those men are escorted by a large number of troops who will seek out and kill all men they deem enemies. I hope you understand what I am saying?"

He looked around the Mu army. There were some who were ready to 'try their luck', others who postured, but the majority stared back with a knowing look of acceptance. They were the ones who wanted to live, to go home and see their family, to live a quiet life again and not be involved in such senseless killing. 

Second Master saw it all and turning to his orderly once more asked for twelve of his Hammers to step forward. He then quietly instructed them to approach the prisoners and on his command began pulling out those spotted as trouble makers. They were held in the no-man's-land for all to see. The remainder looked on.

"These men still do not seem to understand the gravity of their situation and continue to threaten the easy movement of you all back to your homes and loved ones." He paused for effect, then called out, "Bring in the Hearth."

The furnace wagon was pulled out by two water buffalo. It was already hot. All that was needed was fanning. Other Hammers came behind the wagon with their equipment, leather jerkins already in place. They stood, waiting instruction from their Chief Hammer.

The Mu men gasped, these were big men.

"Begin!"

With that, each of the Hammers stepped forward and grabbed one of the men by the arm. They were dragged back to the anvils already prepared. Tied by thick leather straps to the cart itself, these men watched as strips of metal were heated up and beaten into shape. 

Those still waiting started to fight against their captures, watching in horror as the Hammers beat out hot metal, forming neck collars with long, attached chains. These collars were applied hot, closed with a bolt which melted into the collar itself. 

The screams were audible throughout the area. The smell of burning flesh filled the nostrils of all the men present. Those still waiting, screamed and fought, but made no headway against the restraining Hammers who smiled at their futility. 

Those who had just been collared, collapsed on the floor writhing in agony. Cold water was poured onto the neck braces; steam rose around them, once again burning their throats until they couldn't scream any more.

The next batch were pulling forward and the process repeated. 

There were now nine men collared.

The remainder looked on and sank to their knees. There was no resistance in them, their bravado had left them. Each begged to be spared, kow-towing for all their might.

They were picked up by the scruffs of their necks and thrown toward the anvils. None moved, they just cried and begged.

"Stop!" Second Master wasn't a sadist, but he did expect discipline. Stepping down from the cart, he walked toward the three remaining men who cowered in front of him. He picked up a branding iron out of the fire and without delay, branding each one  onto the chest through their tunics, with the number 'one'. He then threw the iron back into the fire and climbed back onto the cart. 

Fear now spread through the prisoners.

"I am hopeful," Second Master continued, "that this will be a lesson in expectations. If I am unhappy with your behaviour, you have one of three choices, a whipping by one of the Hammers, branding, or the collar. That is the order of severity. More than two whippings and you are branded. Two brand marks and the collar is applied. I hope you understand this gentlemen. If you do, then we will make good progress and you will be re-united with your loved ones as soon as we can get us all there."

He looked around and saw the majority had given up the fight. There were still a few but they would either suffer or kow tow under.

"Take these men to the sick wagons." 

He looked down toward the men who had just been made an exhibition of. There was nothing left in them. Those in collars had lost their ability to speak, their vocal chords burned by the application of the hot metal. The collars had melted into the flesh and would never be removed, their spine, welded into a set position. The brands would become infected by the tunic fabric. Bits of it hung off the freshly burned flesh, pulling on the already painful area. One more and they knew they would be mute. They stayed quietly waiting to be dismissed.

"Tend to their burns. I want them to stay alive and returned home. Insubordination should not mean loss of their home life and loved ones." They were either escorted or carried away, grateful their wounds would be seen and treated.

With that, Second Master stepped down off the cart knowing he had made his point. 'Their existence will remind the Mu prisoners of the consequences of stepping out of line,' he muttered.

"Orderly, we move as soon as those men have been treated. No more than one hour."

"Sir!"

 One of the Mu soldiers looked across to his comrades who had been brutalized.  Part of him felt anger, but the part of him which still held his rank, understood. He looked about to find the other officers. It was time to pull this group of men together and get home with some dignity. The last thing he wanted was to witness any more of these episodes.

Zŭmò looked around. The men had landed everything and the boat was stashed away, hidden from every angle by the undergrowth which grew tall here. There were few trees, most having been cleared so as to give those on the road a clear view. Marauders, bandits and vagrants frequented these areas and it wasn't uncommon for passing wagons to be intercepted and robbed. The rich and famous always travelled with guards, but even this didn't prevent everything and many a lady ended her days in a brothel.

He was about half a kilometre from the roadway. Just enough, but uncomfortably close. They needed to get somewhere which was further inland. Gathering all the supplies and fighting ordinance, the group left their hideout under the cover of darkness and headed partway between the landing point and Orchid Market.

"My family's old house isn't far from here," one of the Blades told him, "is it worth pushing on a bit further and seeing if the place is empty? Could become a useful base if it is."

Zŭmò nodded and they moved forward with the Blade member in the lead.

'Why do I sense I know these people?' I swam a little further to another large lotus patch and stopped. I could put my feet down, the soft mud tickling my feet. I felt small creatures moving around my toes and grinned. I stirred the mud just a little and the frenzy of activity was wonderful.

Grinning, I looked out and watched as a few men moved, silently, toward the hamlet region. Then I saw Wolfie, padding along behind.

"P-e-e-e-w w-i-t,  P-e-e-e-w w-i-t" I called urgently.

"P-e-e-e-w?  P-e-e-e-w?" (why are you calling?)

I replied with the mother cat cry, "Get down! Danger!"

I watched as they dropped to the ground, then something odd. They got back up and looked intently upriver. They were still too far away and I was relying on the water to carry the calls, but I was certain I heard something. 

Then it came. Carried on the water a faint but distinctive "w-i-t, w-i-t" (here, here).

Another unit?

I watched and waited. It went quiet and the men I had just called to, vanished out of sight.

'Time to get back and find out......' I let the thoughts mull over by themselves. I didn't need to help them in any way. I turned my thoughts to stroking homeward and let the whole incident leave me. I could pick it up when I reached the bank, but until then, stroke, stroke, stroke, the water lulled me into a state of tranquil peace and belonging once more.