Once the prince and his administrator rode ahead, with snippets of debating trailing behind them, Zong held back, riding closer to Mulan. Scepticism painted his features, his squared jawline ticking. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said, keeping his voice just low enough to be heard.
Mulan nodded. Zong might not have possessed the amount of magic as his Xiongnu ancestor, but his ‘feelings’ had been proven right several times in the past. “What do we do then?”
“Keep our wits about us,” Digan said, bringing his thick dark brows together in a deep frown.
“That leaves me out,” Huyanti joked, but his tone held an undercurrent of trepidation. Riding into battle for the first time had obviously shaken his normal humour. “I haven’t had them since someone here decided to smack me over the head with the end of their staff when they were eight.”
A grin stretched over Mulan’s face at the childhood memory. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t have any before that day.”
Gentle laughter rang in their ears before they lapsed into silence once more. The pounding of thousands of feet echoed through the air alongside the gentle trotting of dozens of horses as Prince Kang lead them further north.
Endless fields of grass and meadows, interspersed with destroyed villages and the shabby makeshift shelters of refugees, morphed into a rocky landscape. Grass thinned, becoming hard ground. The mountains dominating the distance soon loomed over their heads, and the faint sounds of a river echoed through the rocks.
Bringing his horse to a stop, the dragons on Prince Kang’s armour glinted in the late afternoon sun. Ahead, a gap wide enough for ten horses’ side-by-side stretched into infinity but would ultimately give them access to the other side of the mountain. Scraggly trees bent low and twisted by the wind clung to small sections of rock. Tipping her head back, Mulan marvelled at the sight; the jagged peaks seemed to strike the heavens themselves. Deep ridges scarred the sides, reminiscent of tiger claws.
At least I know how it got its name.
The sound of hooves echoed through the pass. Mulan’s heart thumped in her chest but simmered to a gentle beat when the scouts appeared. After a moment’s discussion, Prince Kang turned his horse around and addressed them.
“The way appears to be clear,” he told them, glancing at the sea of faces around him. “But be on your guard.” His eyes flicked her way. “You never know what will happen.”
Mulan breathed heavily as he turned his back to them and slowly made his way through the pass. One by one, they followed in his shadow, the more experienced fighters first, with Mulan and her friends bringing up the rear. After them, the next block of men would follow.
Silence drenched the pass. No birds sang sweetly in the air, no small creatures scurried about in fear. Only the sound of hooves on the ground could be heard. The temperature dropped and shadows spilled across the pass. For Mulan, it appeared as if all manner of life had suddenly vanished.
A knot of uneasiness tightened in Mulan’s gut as they slowly rode forward. It was no wonder why some of the others were uneasy about it; ridges lined with boulders the size of grown men edged the pass high above their heads, making them prime targets for archers. It wouldn’t take much for the enemy to pick them off, one by one.
Several minutes passed by, but Mulan’s heart pounded in her chest. Up ahead, something blue glittered and it took a second for her brain to register what it was - the river that would lead to Long Horse Drop.
Golden light spilled around the men in front, catching the metal tips of Digan’s guandao, and the hilts of weapons.
They were nearly out.
But the sense of uneasiness tightened within her gut.
As her horse stepped out of the pass, the faintest trace of something stirred on the air. It gazed her cheek, caressing her skin like a long-lost lover. Inhaling, it rippled past her, and the knot twisted tighter until she could hardly breathe. Reminiscent of her meeting with Yi Ligui, Mulan’s hand automatically went to the pouch tied around her neck, containing her father’s ring and the salt the old woman had given her. To her side, Zong gasped loudly.
She recognised magic when it came her way. “Ambush!” she screamed.
All hands shot to their weapons. A chorus of battle-cries enveloping them on all sides sang out, drowning everything save the panicked thump of her heart in her chest. A flood of arrows pierced the air, followed by startled cries and thuds of bodies.
One hand tightened around the reins whilst she pulled her jian from its sheath with the other and raced forward. From all directions, Rouran warriors rushed forward, a deadly line of hatred and bloodlust ready to consume all Tuoba in their path.
Ahead of her, Prince Kang and his men jumped straight into battle, their weapons drawn and slicing through flesh and bone. A claw of fear swiped across Mulan’s chest, but raw instinct drove her forward.
“Get our men through the pass!” Prince Kang yelled as his sword lopped off a head, sending it crashing against the mountainside with a nauseating thud.
With a quick flick of the wrist, Mulan swung her jian, slicing through the air and carving a thick line across a Rouran chest. Blood poured from the wound. Another rushed forward, his sword held high and his face etched with rage.
The piercing sound of arrows shot through the din; for a fleeting second, Mulan wondered how many of their men would make it through.
She lashed out without thinking, pure reaction, not thinking of anything but staying out of reach of the next sword hurtling her way. Only a few steps away, Daocheng’s sword sliced through another Rouran.
But they kept coming, an endless stream of bugs determined to overwhelm them. Mulan twisted her horse round; relief swelled in her chest as more Tuoba warriors poured through the pass with their own battle-cries hot on their lips.
Another wave of arrows streaked through the air, sending more men to the ground. Blood soaked the air, the foul coppery scent assaulting her nostrils. A horse screeched and crashed onto the hard floor with a sickening clunk. A second later, the Tuoba rider’s head shot through the air, hot blood following behind it like a grisly shadow.
Sensing movement on her right, Mulan twisted back but moved too late. A sword crashed onto hers, sending a wave of pain shooting up her arm. Gritting her teeth, Mulan pressed all her weight into it, but she wasn’t strong enough. One moment she was on the horse, the next, her face met the stony ground.
The horse raced out of the way, and she only had a second to bring up her jian before a Rouran sword came hurtling towards her face. A face, dirty and covered in a thick black beard, loomed down at her. “Tuoba scum.”
“Tuoba warrior,” she corrected through clenched jaws. Using all her strength, she brought her knees to her chest and kicked out, striking the wriggling worm in the shins. The shock of it gave her just the slight advantage she needed; his wrists went slack on his sword. With a quick flick of the wrist, she plunged the jian into his throat then yanking it back out, a fine spray of blood drenching one side of her face. His body slumped to the ground.
Another wave of fear washed over her as the fighting spilled around her, but Mulan jumped to her feet and shoved it back down. Her father was right; in battle, fear was a luxury no one could afford.
A flurry of attacks stole her attention from her thoughts. Swords danced all around, pain-filled cries and shouting echoed following in their wake. She pushed away all thoughts and just swung her weapon, swinging it until she felt nothing at all.
Men fell all around her – one, ten, thirty, the numbers didn’t stop - their eyes flashing with pain and terror as their blood turned the ground red, but Mulan couldn’t bring herself to a standstill. Her limbs ached with exhaustion, but adrenaline kept her going.
Cutting a window through the Rouran fighters, she caught a glimpse of her friends. Daocheng’s sword cleaved through a chest; Chuo somersaulted through the air, his double swords a blur her eyes could barely make out. Blood spurted over his chest, and more Rouran worms plummeted back t
o the earth.
A thundering sound echoed over the din, and energy rippled over her skin. Beneath her feet, the ground shook. Earthquake, now?
Shouts rang out. “They’re blocking the pass,” someone screamed.
Whipping her head around, Mulan could make out boulders the size of small houses hurtling from the sides of the ridges. Cries rang out as they crushed those unfortunate enough to be caught beneath them. Energy coursed through the air, and a second later, more rocks hurtled from the sides, until nothing could get through.
Only a fraction of their army had made it.
Yelling from behind sent her thoughts scattering and she twisted around only to have a foot barrelling in her chest. Time froze and at the same time, seconds stretched into eternity before a burst of pain blossomed over her back and the edges of her vision blurred.
It took another second to realise that she’d been kicked into the side of a large rock; half a second more to notice the spear hurtling through the air towards her. Heart pounding, she ducked, the spearpoint barely missing her uncovered neck.
Sucking in a deep breath and jumping to her feet, she reached for her jian now on the ground, and rushed at the warrior running her way with a sword in hand. Ducking at the last second, she rolled and swung the blade, the metal slicing across his thighs and sending him crashing to the ground. In a fluid motion, she twisted and plunged the blade into his back. His body spasmed and lay still.
A burst of power slammed through them. The ground rushed up and hit everyone in the face, Tuoba or not. Lifting her head up and grunting through the new wave of pain, Mulan watched as red flames shot through the air and engulfed one of their warriors. Fresh screams pierced her ears, nausea rose up in the pit of her stomach.
“Rouran sorcerers!” Zong shouted, suddenly yanking her to her feet and shoving her away as more red flames burst through the sky in her direction. Clouds of dust and dirt exploded where she’d been standing only a second before.
Mulan glanced up. High on a cliff jutting out precariously, four dark figures stood. Power radiated from them, even at a considerable distance.
How in the eighteen hells did they get up there?
Another Rouran soldier rushed at them. “How do we stop them?” she screamed as she cut them down.
“Kill them!” Zong threw himself at another worm, his dao plunging into the tender flesh of his neck. Yanking it back out, it soon found itself buried into a stomach.
Mulan stopped thinking and continued to lash out with her jian. While the Rouran numbers were diminishing, so were theirs. Alarmingly so. Lungs screaming for air and limbs demanding rest, she shoved the exhaustion aside and continued to fight.
From above, the Rouran sorcerers easily picked off more. Flames burnt soldiers to nothing but ash, floating away on the breeze after being kicked up by more fighting.
At this rate, none of them would survive.
Something had to be done.
Through the curtain of fighting bodies, Mulan caught a glimpse of prince Kang. Long strands of black hair fell across his face, his features painted with pain and anger. Blood coated his armour, the dragons on it drenched in crimson. He surged forward on muscled legs, running like a dark wind, cutting down one Rouran soldier after another.
But they kept on coming.
Thrumming energy suddenly ran across Mulan’s face; a burst of light pulsed around Prince Kang’s body. Lightning crackled and all the air seemed to be sucked out of the sky. The light enveloped him completely and a suddenly the Rouran around him flew backwards through the air.
Mulan sucked in a breath as she watched her commander’s body elongate at least twenty feet behind him. His head lost its handsome features and transformed into something triple its normal size; red eyes reminiscent of demons appeared, and deer-like antlers sprung from the top. Blue and white scales glittered along its snake-like body and claws razor-sharp appeared where his limbs once were.
“He’s a dragon,” Mulan breathed in disbelief, staring up at her commander as did everyone else around her, regardless of what side they were on.
Power gathered around him like a thunderstorm as he took to the air, the scales on his back shimmering in the late sun. Arrows flooded the sky at the dragon’s underbelly but bounced off, hurtling back towards them. Weaving up and down, he encircled the group of Rouran soldiers, faster and faster, until they were sucked in by a powerful whirlwind emitting a low moaning song that stretched over the area.
When the winds died, bodies lay in a grisly heap on the ground.
A snarl ripped through the air, and the dragon prince shot up towards the cliff where the Rouran sorcerers stood, their palms burning with red flames.
Mulan raced in the same direction, blood cascading over her skin as her jian brought more worms down. Risking a chance, she raised her gaze.
Claws reached out to pluck a sorcerer from the edge of the cliff, but they rebounded, sending him back several meters. Prince Kang tried again, but the same thing happened. Something protected them from physical attacks.
Mulan gasped as the glint of a sword filled her vision and raised her weapon but instinctively knew it would be too late. The deadly tip of a guandao whizzed past her eyes and buried it in the face of the soldier who’d wielded it. Twisting her head, Digan’s grinning face, streaked with blood and dirt, came into view. A second later, he retrieved the weapon. “Have you fucking seen that?” he asked, pointing towards their commander. “If he doesn’t get them soon, it’s all over for us.”
Red flames shot in his direction, but the blue and white dragon spiralled out of the way. Its jaws opened, revealing sharp teeth and the promise of unending pain. “Something’s blocking him from getting to them.”
More Rouran rushed at them. Sparks exploded where metal clashed upon metal. “He’d better hurry up then.”
An onslaught of Rouran soldiers forced Mulan backwards. Swords clashed with swords. Holding her weapon in a two-hand stance, she swung out in deadly arcs, but soon found her back against the rock even after cutting down all but one.
“Got you now,” the Rouran facing her sneered, his dark eyes promising death.
“Not today, you haven’t,” Mulan replied, and swung. The blade slid through the soft tissue under his jaw with a sharp, wet movement, and a fine spray of blood coated the ground as the disbelief shining in his eyes dulled to nothing before slumping face down.
Sucking in mouthfuls of much-needed air in her lungs, Mulan gazed out over the battlefield and realised she was now on the far fringes of the fight. Bodies lay scattered like leaves. Digan was right; if Prince Kang didn’t find a way to penetrate that magical field protecting the sorcerers, they may as well lay down and let the worms kill them right then.
Mulan lifted her head, her gaze filling with the sight of the prince’s belly far above, sparkling like ice. No matter what he did, he couldn’t break the barrier.
But all Mulan could think about was how the sorcerers got up there. There had to be a way.
Leaning against the rock wall, her eyes shut, Mulan allowed herself a sliver of a moment to rest. Her limbs ached, her ears pounded with the echo of her heartbeat, but at least she hadn’t been wounded.
Something cold fluttered against her cheek. Mulan welcomed the sensation. Opening her eyes, a frown pulled at her brow.
Curiosity drew her attention. Hand tightening on the jian, she searched for the cause. A minute later, she discovered a small hole in the rock, just wide-enough for a man. Cold wind caressed her sweat-lined face. Inhaling, she stepped inside and found it inclined up. “Could it be?” she whispered to herself.
Shadows cloaked the sloping tunnel in darkness, making it difficult to see where she was going. Placing her left hand on the wall to guide her, Mulan followed it, the biting chill of the rock a welcome relief.
Minutes later, she discovered the source of the cool air; a narrow entrance. A bubble of nervous energy floated within her stomach as she slowly crept outside, taking care to stay as
close to the rock wall as she could.
Blue skies untainted by clouds surrounded her and it took a moment to realise she was high above the battlefield. Shouting and the clash of weapons resonated from below. At her back, the dominating grey mountain soared higher.
Manic laughter caught her attention. Rage burned in her chest as she gazed upon the four sorcerers. Wearing black robes that fluttered in the breeze, they stood near the edge of the precipice, burning red flames shooting from their palms towards Prince Kang, still attempting to claw his way through whatever magic prevented him from ripping them apart.
Gripping the hilt of the jian in her sweaty hand, Mulan inched closer without being seen. Power thickened the air, making it a struggle to draw breath into her lungs.
Suddenly, something prevented her from going any further. Inhaling as much air as she could, Mulan thrust her blade forward, but the jian bounced back.
One of the sorcerers turned his neck in her direction. His black eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a scowl. “Try all you like, worthless boy. You cannot defeat us.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Mulan spat. “But I’ve never listened when someone told me I couldn’t do something. Just ask my father.”
Snorting, the sorcerer turned his back on her and rose his palms. Red flames licked his skin before hurtling down towards the battle with a high squeal of noise. Screams wafted up seconds later.
Anger whirled in a tempest within her chest. Raising the jian once more, she swung it down with all her might, but whatever power protected the Rouran sorcerers from Prince Kang, sent her sprawling on her backwards, the blade clattering onto the ground.
A searing pain erupted at the base of her head and the edges of her vision blurred momentarily. Shaking her head, Mulan crawled onto all fours as a ringing sound reverberated through her skull.
If Prince Kang can’t get through the shield by force alone, there’s no way my sword will. The thought sent a wave of despair crashing through her. Not far away, laughter erupted once more.
Honour, She Obeys Page 12
