With the all too familiar six-count chant, the prisoners hoisted the beam into place. If Chow Fan lived a hundred years, the chant would echo in his skull to his dying day. Not that he expected to live a hundred years. The fact that he had lived this long was some strange grace of the heavens, or perhaps it was a curse.

Unsurprisingly, the ill-trained and ill-equipped mob of Tungese conscripts did not last long in battle against the Wankwai and their Nurchin slaves. The Tungese commanders thought they could overwhelm the enemy with sheer numbers, but the Wankwai responded by bombing them from the sky and shelling from afar. Less than half would survive to get mowed down by machine gun fire and little more than a handful were able to get close enough to actually put up any semblance of a fight.

During the very limited training Chow Fan received, he was told that the Wankwai would not surrender and had to be killed to the last man. The Sergeant said it was the only good thing about the Wankwai and that they too should resolve themselves to fight to the end with no thought of seeking quarter from the enemy. However, once the Sergeant and most of the other regular soldiers were dead, the conscripts who remained were not so quick to throw their lives away for nothing.

Chow Fan's lot as a prisoner was not so different from his time as a conscript. He was nothing more than an animal to be worked to death, given the bare minimum food and shelter to squeeze out every last drop of usefulness until his corpse would be cast into a ditch somewhere. At least as a prisoner he was not being sent to face people who meant to kill him. In that respect alone, the Wankwai Emperor was a kinder master than the one perched on the Phoenix Throne.

The prisoners were put to work building bridges, expanding roads and other such activities to ease the Wankwai advance southward. There were a few who felt it was their duty to sabotage these works, but one bad actor would get all of them punished and at least two innocents would be shot along with every saboteur who was caught, so pretty soon the prisoners saved the guards the trouble and became quite efficient at policing their ranks. The same went for those who would try to escape.

The overseer blew his whistle, sounding the call for them to assemble. There was still at least three hours of daylight, so it was too early for them to finish work for the day. Chow Fan did not think they had ever done this before. He hoped they were not being brought together for another cull. That did not seem likely as their captors would surely want to get a full day's work out of them first.

There were a select few prisoners who acted as go-betweens and served as the mouthpiece of their captors. Apparently this came with such perks as better food and lighter duty, making them objects of jealousy and contempt. Even though they were hated by the less privileged prisoners, few would not leap at the chance to become one of them.

Once the prisoners were assembled, the go-between announced, "'Your labor will set you free.' That is what you were told when you were brought here. Not everyone believed these words and worked to spoil your labors and rob you of your freedom. And yet you have persevered and toiled worthily to this day, the day you will be set free."

Even though speaking without leave would get you beaten, many could not resist the urge to mutter among themselves when they heard these words.

The overseer struck the nearest surface with his bamboo rod and shouted, "Seishuku!"

That was enough to get the prisoners to quiet down and the go-between continued.

The prisoners remained silent this time, lest the overseer resort to more forceful means than a verbal warning.

"Your other choice is to remain here and continue your work. You will no longer be treated as prisoners but as hired laborers. You will be paid wages and those wages can buy you better food, clothing and accommodations. You will have until the morning assembly tomorrow to make your decision.

"To celebrate this day of victory, our hosts grant you liberty for the rest of the day. Use this time to consider your choice so that you will be ready with your decision in the morning."

Normally after being dismissed for the day, they would be quietly herded like cattle to their pens, but today most of them just stood there stunned. Just as suddenly as the war was thrust into their lives, it was over. Their mighty empire had fallen in a matter of weeks. It was not the first time they had tasted defeat in war, but it may well prove to be the last. Unlike wars of the past, this time everything was offered up and now everything was lost.

The enormity of the state of affairs was more than Chow Fan could comprehend. He found himself so paralyzed by it that he was not even thinking about the choice he had been given. It was not until he found himself back in his tent that he started to consider it. Of course he wanted to return home, but with only a three-day ration, he would likely die of hunger or thirst long before he reached his village. He had his suspicions about the offer to remain as a laborer, but if they were true to their word and he could save up some money, not only could he more safely make his way home but also have something to show for everything he had been through.

The answer would not come easily. He did not imagine he would be getting much sleep. It was sure to be his longest night since the one when they came to take him away to this living nightmare.