The rutted roads were rimed with ice that crackled under passing feet and hooves and wagon wheels. A featureless blanket of cloud covered the sky, drab as the dormant grass in the fields and meadows. Yet the spirit of Cao Ren's army burned bright through the gray depths of winter. The boys amicably argued over the morning's haul, their banter mingling as plumes of white in the frigid air.
Fei Gong picked up a bronze serving dish with twin dragons for handles, weighing it in his hands as if appreciating its value. Teng set his eye on a wine jar of a similar design. Gai considered a bolt of fine silk brocade. "My mother would love this."
A boy leered at him. "She'd love something else from me, too."
Ren tensed to jump between them, but Gai struck back with a glare rather than a swung fist.
The haul in question was a small cart marked with the name of a prominent landowner and stuffed to the brim with a mishmash of merchandise from grain sacks to glazed dishware. Upon bringing the goods to the well-kept home of their rightful possessor, Ren and his fellows had been rewarded with an invitation to take one prize apiece. "You boys can put this to far better use than I," the landowner had declared, bestowing his largesse with a grand sweep of his arm and the uptilted chin of a wishful lord.
"We should have just kept it all like I said to," grumbled Hu Xu as he dug through the heap. Out of perpetual disgust at the man who heavily taxed his family's farm with no regard for sickness or scant harvests, Xu had pleaded to empty the cart before returning it. Like he's going to cry himself to sleep over a bunch of fancy plates. And if he does, so what? My sister tosses and turns all night because we can barely afford to eat. Let him know what it feels like for once.
Though sympathetic to this line of reasoning, Ren had remained firm in his insistence to bring the cart back as they had found it. Xu's landlord might commit his own sort of thievery, but reacting in kind was a pointless form of protest. The man would not be motivated to change his ways, and the boys would learn that the rules of their conduct could be bent at will - a lesson that Ren certainly did not wish to teach. At least they had received some repayment. The landowner's favor spoke more of condescension than concern, but it left the boys with more than they had before. To those with little to their name other than a cramped corner of a shabby house, this was significant.
Even more notable was the ease with which Ren's army had captured the cart. Miscreants generally put up some form of resistance, even if it was only a load of bravado that turned into a hasty retreat when the boys snapped into formation. This morning's rabble had not even given them that. Ren and his squad had been marching down the road as the cart thieves headed up toward them. After one good look at Ren's banner, a modest flag sewn and painted by some of the handier soldiers, the bandits had scattered without a single word.
This sign of repute meant more to Ren than any trinket from the pile, and the boys had been working hard to deserve it. In addition to stepping up their sparring practice, they tried anything that their comrades would teach them. A friend of Fei Gong's had sharpened his first aid skills while caring for troublesome siblings and his neighbors' livestock. He had not yet seen an opportunity to demonstrate setting broken bones - and Ren hoped that such an opportunity would never arise - but leather scraps served well enough for suturing. Ren had brought scrolls of children's songs for those who expressed an interest in reading. It was difficult to explain what he had learned at Mother's side so many years ago, but Ren's students responded to his efforts with plenty of their own. Gai boasted that he would soon be ready for a real story, simple as it might be.
Not everyone could be a master of surgery or scholarship. Some of the boys were deft with staves and hopeless with needles. Others scoffed at the notion of scratching their heads over symbols that someone else could decipher for them. Yet every bit of shared knowledge contributed to a focused camaraderie that inspired more and more soldiers to bring their fellows under Ren's command. His army had tripled in size since its first meeting of the previous summer, and it maintained a strong and sensible order. By and large, the boys fell in line out of eagerness to belong. Displeased words, additional exercise, and banishment from patrol sufficed to correct the occasional lapse in discipline. A few soldiers took a remarkable shine to the military structure, distinguishing themselves with initiative and ability. They helped to direct drills and formations while Ren stole away to review his school notes.
Between the numbers and the emerging leadership required to make proper use of them, Ren's army was on the verge of splitting. Separate squads could cover more ground, traveling the no-man's-land between the most outlying farms and the mail outposts en route to the villages beyond. And if others joined them, they could reach even further. Higher. Marching in step with their heads held high, the banners streaming bright and proud. A formidable force, a rock against which the winds of unrest would break and falter.