Free TUN-HUANG by Yasushi Inoué Page B

character except that Wang-li had expressed affection for him and was of matchless courage in the front lines.
    A moment later a group of three thousand soldiers, who had been waiting outside, began to enter the garrison. After quarters had been assigned, the men had time to spend as they wished, their first chance in days. They roamed around the abandoned town like starving wolves. When they found women’s clothing, they put them on over their uniforms; when they found wine jugs, they smashed them open and drank gustily, spilling wine all over themselves.
    As the darkness enveloped the town, however, the confusion gradually subsided. Hsing-te had remained by the city wall directly under the beacon tower from noon until nightfall, leaving briefly only once. He had stood guard to prevent any loiterer from going up the wall.
    The one time he had left his post was to locate a hiding-place for the royal maiden. He entered many houses in the vicinity, searching for a suitable place. Next to a relatively large house he found a hut, apparently a food store, in which there was a cellar large enough to hold two or three people. He decided that this was just the place for the girl to hide, and he took a mattress and blankets into the cellar.
    Late that night Hsing-te slipped out of the temple, which had been assigned as quarters for the fifty men of the suicide squad who had entered the city. High above, thousands of stars studded the sky, but the night was so dark that Hsing-te could barely see beyond his feet.
    He took some time to reach where he had stood that afternoon, and from there he groped his way up the city wall. When he reached the top, he could see hundreds of campfires scattered over the plain outside. The Hsi-hsia main army was probably camping there. Although he thought he would be able to pick out the movement of men and horses reflected in the glare of the campfires, only the flickering of flames was visible. The areas between the fires were buried in darkness, and there was no sign of any living creature in the shadows.
    Hsing-te went up to the upper level of the beacon tower. It was pitch black and he couldn’t make out the girl’s figure clearly, but she appeared to be lying down, crouched in the same position as that afternoon.
    He told her to come down with him so he could take her to a safe hiding-place. But the girl lay still and did not move. Finally, however, she spoke to him in Chinese in her penetrating voice telling him that she was no longer afraid to die. Hsing-te took this as a warning: she was uncertain of his friendship, and he was trying to spirit her away somewhere. Again ordering the girl to follow him, Hsing-te started down the ladder. Shortly after, she followed. His eyes had become accustomed to the dark by this time, and he could dimly make out the girl’s figure. She was much taller than he had expected.
    He forbade her to speak, and ordered her not to stir from his side under any circumstances. Then, leaving the vast plain with its scattered campfires behind, he slowly descended the city wall, groping for each rung of the ladder.
    The woman’s stealthy footsteps followed immediately behind those of Hsing-te. He cut across the square, went down the road, turned two corners, and then entered the mud-wall-ed enclosure of the house he had discovered that afternoon. Beyond the wall was a large front garden. From there, Hsing-te made the girl go in front of him toward the house and the hut.
    When they reached the door of the hut, Hsing-te urged the girl to enter, but she stood there hesitating. It was pitch black inside. Hsing-te handed her his own evening ration of noodles and onions and told her to go to the cellar of the hut at dawn, when she could see her surroundings. Then he said he would leave, since he felt that she would not go in as long as he remained. In contrast to the scorching heat of the day, the night air was bitterly cold. Hsing-te had brought some bedding into the cellar for