H.K. Sathappan
Book One: Trials of Chaos is a romanticized retelling of the Three Kingdoms Era in ancient China. This time of feudal warfare has inspired everything from plays, to shrines, to folklore, movies, novels, and even video games. Trials of Chaos draws from all the past reincarnations of the battles and generals and combines their popular conceptions with a modern flavor of dialogue and suspense.
Trials of Chaos adds emotion and intrigue to the lives of such famed characters as Cao Cao, Liu Bei, and Sun Quan. Even the less popularized generals, such as Yu Jin and Cheng Pu are given the credit they are due. Book One spans the era from the Yellow Turban Insurrection 184 CE to the fall of Yuan Shao at Guan Du 200 CE. Each chapter focuses on a particular character and fleshes out their web of intertwined back stories. Conspiracy, affairs of love, and courageous shows of prowess carry this re-envisioned telling of the Three Kingdoms Era forward at a pace that will keep the pages turning.
Here the two stopped underneath the crumbling peach tree canopy. Liu Bei raised his hand and caught a falling petal in his palm.
“Everything must die, Guan Yu. That is the nature of this secular world. Nothing stays, no matter how beautiful, no matter how strong. The chaos is spreading. Can’t you feel it? My body aches at night, for when it wakes, the Han might have disappeared. That’s all it would take, one mistake, one night…”
~ From Book One: Trials of Chaos
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Chapter 1: The Oath in the Peach Garden
The imperial rider was flocked by men, women, and children the moment he rode into the village of Pingyuan.
“Back! Back!” He ordered, as they crowded his horse.
“What news do you bring?”
“Has another war begun?”
“Is the Emperor coming this way?”
The rider’s horse teetered nervously and kicked its legs.
“Stand back!” The rider yelled. He urged his horse forward, breaking through the crowd. The people hungrily chased after the horse as it rode atop the dusty roads and to the village square. Farmers and butchers stared up from their work as the regal officer rode by. Whispers were immediately followed by smiles of excitement. They dropped what they were doing and joined the mad swell of villagers that were already hounding after the rider.
Atop his horse, the rider towered above most of the remedial houses and shops. He was dressed in new armor that caught the sun’s rays and glistened as such. His horse was healthy, in stark comparison to almost everything in the old village. Women washed their children outside their homes in wood buckets and the men wore cheap sandals and ragged robes. The arrival of an imperial rider could only mean good news, for how could their lives become any more desolate.
As the rider urged forward, he sighed at the pathetic state of the village and surmised that he was wasting his time. However, he was on decree by the Son of Heaven himself and had to proceed regardless of his own beliefs. As the rider approached the village square, a surprisingly welcome smell crept into his nostrils. His horse’s hooves trod against softer ground and soon even grass. What place is this, in such a desert town, thought the rider? A cool breeze caught his horse’s flanks and it whinnied happily. The sun was brushed from the rider’s back and for the first time in weeks, he felt at peace. He looked up into pink canopy of peach trees and his horse came to a halt.
“Beautiful…” he whispered. By this point, the eager throng had caught up to him. He turned his horse and faced the peasants of this village. If they were responsible for this garden, there must have been some good in them, some worth. Before they could badger him with questions, he reached into his riding sack and withdrew a scroll of parchment. His audience was silenced when they saw the imperial stamp. A wave off hisses rolled to the back of the crowd and, almost immediately, only the wind whispered in the Peach Garden.
“I, soldier of the Han Dynasty, am here today by decree of the Son of Heaven, Emperor Ling. The Yellow Turban Insurrection is escalating and the rebels are gaining in number. Supreme Commanders of the Empire, Generals He Jin and Lu Zhi, request Pingyuan’s assistance. This village has prospered under the rule of the Han and it is now time to repay your debts. Bring your families honor by serving the Emperor in his time of need.”
So saying, the imperial rider bolted the edict to a peach tree and rode out through the assembly. As the clouds of dust his horse kicked up vanished in the distance, a general sense of disappointment permeated through the masses. They had been hoping for news, but the Yellow Turbans were hardly new. Those in the back sloshed back to their lives and those in the front ceremoniously examined the edict, already knowing that they would never hold a spear in the front lines. And so, without gaining a single volunteer, the edict watched as the villagers of Pingyuan dispersed. Everything seemed so quite, but if one would have strained his ears, he would have heard the faint clapping of a tired horse’s hooves. The echoes grew closer and louder as this aged animal approached.
The horse’s rider wore faded robes and threadbare sandals. His face was round and young and home to the truest of eyes. His eyebrows were thin and his beard trimmed. When he approached the edict, his eyes wandered curiously over the words and finally settled on the imperial stamp at the bottom. His heart sunk into his stomach and he dismounted his horse as his insides lurched. The rider was an imperial relative, distant cousin to the current Emperor. He was a Liu, his given name Bei.
Liu Bei had once been presented with a province to preside over, but had politely refused three times. He was a man of little merit and did not think himself worthy of the gift. To avoid any further complications, Liu Bei gave up his imperial status and name and settled into a more humble life: in Pingyuan he had become a carpenter. No one knew his real name and he kept it that way. He wasn’t worthy of the Liu line, not after what he had done. The children, and even some of the older villagers, called him Uncle Xuande.
Standing beneath the peach trees and staring at the edict, Xuande felt sick. He had renounced everything he could have used to help his family. He was a man of little merit, but even that would’ve been enough to aid his cousin, the Emperor, and the rest of the Han Dynasty. But as a carpenter, what could he do? The sudden clamor of horse hooves seemed to answer Xuande’s doubts. A group of fifty some odd soldiers approached the imperial edict and their leader dismounted. He had a gruff beard and eyes as wide as a tiger’s and even more ferocious. His arms were full and his hair tied back. He had a powerful swagger to his walk, Xuande thought. The tiger-eyed man stood in front of the edict, leaning against his spear.
“His royal majesty the Son of Heaven… blah, blah, etc, etc… here we go, boys! Rewards of silver in exchange for Yellow Turban heads!”
“Sounds like a win-win situation to me, my lord!” Cried out one of his soldiers. The tiger-eyed man gave a hearty chuckle and turned to Xuande. His fierce gaze seemed strangely ineffective on this citizen and it was by this fact alone that Tiger-Eyes knew he was in the presence of greatness. He stared at Xuande curiously and when Xuande didn’t so much as blink, Tiger-Eyes smiled widely.
“How about it? Will you be joining the fight?”
“It pains me to say that I cannot. I have no sword. I have no men. I am a man of little merit, with no means to aid the Son of Heaven,” Xuande replied. To this, Tiger-Eyes unsheathed his sword like lightning.
“Nonsense!” He cried, shoving the weapon into Xuande’s hands. “This is now your sword and these are now your men.”
“I couldn’t –”
“You must!” Tiger-Eyes deplored. He stepped up to Xuande and pressed his neck against the blade he had just handed him. “I would consider it a great dishonor if I led these troops while knowing that a greater man than I could have instead.”
Xuande removed the blade from Tiger-Eye’s neck and stared at him, bewildered.
“Fine… If it means so much to you then I will lead these men,” Xuande agreed.
“Excellent, call me Zhang Fei, my lord.”
“And I am Xuande,” Liu Bei replied, extending his hand.
