Honour, She Obeys

by L. S. Slayford

  Death by magic or death by drowning. What a choice.

  Out of the darkness, two hands grabbed her arms, triggering another scream. A second later, a mouth descended upon hers blowing a stream of vital air into her lungs. Her body welcomed it, cherishing the lessening pressuring on her chest.

  Mulan swept her gaze forward to find Kang in front of her, his dark eyes ringed with red that blazed through the gloom. Keeping one hand on her arm, he took the jian from her grasp and slid it back into its sheath. Pointing upwards, he shook his head. Mulan understood. They couldn’t go back up. Turning so that his back faced her and wrapping her arms around his chest, he began kicking, taking them away.

  The strength of the current facilitated their getaway, but like the tunnels, the river twisted and turned into what seemed an eternity. Each time the water thrust them into a bend, it triggered lines of burning pain through Mulan’s leg, snatching the tears from her eyes.

  Exhausted and in agony, Mulan’s fingers fell from Kang’s chest and she sank to the bottom. Her lungs screamed for more air, but she didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Darkness crept at the edges of her vision, but whether from the river swallowing the limited light or death sweeping her into its shadowy depths, she couldn’t tell.

  Then Kang’s hands and mouth were upon hers and hot air blasted past her icy lips. His red-tinged eyes blazed at her, but Mulan lacked the strength to do anything but look at him. Grasping her arms tight, he kicked off the bottom, propelling them forward.

  Mulan allowed him to drag her where they needed to go, unable to focus on anything but the pain. The river carried them on, Kang’s grip the only thing preventing her from sinking into its arms as a sacrifice.

  After a time, whether a few seconds or a lifetime, Kang thrust her head above the surface. Her lungs greedily sucked at the air like a hungry babe at its mother’s breast, grateful but still needing more. Mulan glanced around; the sky stretched overhead, the fresh air smacking her face.

  Then she saw it.

  “Kang,” she cried, fear stripping all other thoughts away as infinity loomed past the sudden drop.

  Strong arms wrapped around her chest as Kang pressed her close, his leg accidently jarring the dagger still implanted in her thigh. “Take a deep breath,” he whispered, his tone tight.

  Mulan inhaled as deeply as she could, but as the current spat them over the edge of the waterfall the air whipped it from her lungs. Squeezing her eyes shut, her fingers gripping Kang’s robes so hard she thought they would snap off, she could do nothing but allow the crashing water to absorb her screams and welcome her into its freezing depths once more.

  The force of the impact sent fresh waves of agony coursing through her body, ripping her from Kang’s embrace. Water pummelled its way into her mouth and nose, as if determined to make her a new channel.

  Adrenaline surged through Mulan’s body. Frantically, she started kicking, searching for the surface where she could find more air for her screaming lungs. Exhaustion lined her limbs like lead, but still she fought, knowing Kang wasn’t far away.

  Fingers encircled her wrist, yanking her upwards. As soon as her head burst through the surface, she drank in mouthfuls of delicious oxygen, slumping against the hard lines of Kang’s chest.

  They were outside.

  Keeping her pressed tight against him, he swam them to the edge of what appeared to be a small but deep pool. The sounds of hawks screeching through the air wrestled with the roar of the water still ringing in Mulan’s ears. Fresh air had never tasted so sweet.

  As soon as her feet touched dry land, pain sent silver sparks bursting behind her eyes and cries tore from her throat. Picking her up in his arms, Kang carried her a few paces, setting her down gently against a large smooth boulder.

  Mulan glanced at her leg. The hilt of the dagger remained upright, simply fashioned from wood and steel. Only a trickle of blood seeped from its edges, but the lower half of her clothes were stained in it, faded pink by the water.

  Kang knelt beside her, his eyes apologizing in advance. “Brace yourself,” he told her, one hand on the hilt.

  Gritting her teeth, Mulan couldn’t help but release a scream as Kang yanked the dagger out. The raw agony tore into every fibre of her being, but at least it was free. Kang ripped a length of material from his clothes and tightened it around her leg until the point she almost believed it would cut her into two.

  Tearing another strip off, he pressed it against her leg, causing her to wince. “For a moment back there, I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his tone hoarse. Lifting his head, his eyes returned to their beautiful shade of brown.

  Weary and wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep, Mulan shook her head. “You’re still my commander,” she replied. “I can’t go anywhere until you let me go.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” he said, possession thickening his words. With lightning fast reflexes, Kang rose up and slanted his lips across hers in a fierce embrace. Mulan wrapped her fingers in his wet dishevelled hair and deepened their kiss. Time faded into dust, the world disappeared; the only thing that mattered to Mulan was the heat of Kang’s lips and the feel of his hands gripping her waist.

  Approaching footsteps tore them apart. Kang rose to his feet, his sword quickly drawn as the sound grew louder. Mulan’s hand reached for her jian, her body tensing for whatever came their way next.

  Chuo’s face suddenly appeared from behind the curve of the mountain. His hands shot upwards, palms out. “Woah, it’s only us.” Daocheng’s dust covered face appeared over his shoulder.

  Relief swelled within Mulan’s chest at seeing her friend’s still alive. “You’re safe,” she breathed, slumping against the rock.

  Daocheng nodded, wiping a layer of dust off his face with the hem of his sleeve. “The tunnel led all the way to the bottom, not far from where we left the horses.”

  Mulan raised a brow at Kang. “I guess we took the fun way out.”

  Kang offered her a dark look in exchange. He turned back to the others. “Get the horses. We need to get out of here.”

  A brief pause stretched between them. Finally, Chuo shook his head. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Rouran slaughtered them and we can’t find theirs.”

  Kang’s face twisted into rage. “Fuck.” He took several deep breaths, but they did nothing to ease it. “Mulan’s hurt. She can’t walk.”

  Daocheng rushed to Mulan’s side, inspecting the wound for himself. He glanced over his shoulder towards Kang. “Can we hide until they’ve gone?”

  It was Mulan’s turn to shake her head. “They can sense the magic within the seal. They’d find us.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  Kang remained silent for a moment, then strode to where Mulan sat. Crouching down, he scooped her up in his arms. “We walk.”

  As Chuo led the way with Kang and Daocheng following, Mulan strained to hear any noise that may have been the Rouran close behind. Laying in Kang’s arms, the pain in her leg now a dull ache, she scanned their surroundings, searching for any unnatural shadows or movement. But all she could see was the familiar grey form of the mountains, the dirt covered ground, the whistle of the wind echoing around them.

  They broke free from the shadow of the mountain not far from where the shattered remains of the double spirit columns lay. Fragments of white bone stared up at them, the wooden poles nothing more that splintered shards. In the sky, the sun hung low and dark clouds rolled in once more. A cold wind blew over Mulan’s face and wet clothes, sending shivers over her body. It wouldn’t be long before night descended.

  Kang’s body suddenly stilled. Chuo drew his sword, Daocheng his bow and one of the few remaining arrows from its quiver. Mulan’s head turned in the direction they faced.

  Someone was approaching.

  Far in the distance set in the undulating hills, a throng of horses charged straight at them, a cloud of dusting whipping around their lower bodies
. Mulan’s heart pounded in her chest as the horses grew closer, their movements faster than anything she’d ever seen before.

  It took them only a few minutes for the horses to reach them. Six skidded to a halt only a few feet away, but it wasn’t their lightning fast reflexes that caused her to gasp.

  It was their coats.

  Thick and heavy, their hides glistened in the weak sunlight, making Mulan swear they were bleeding. They stood several hands higher than any of the horses her family bred back home, their eyes sharper and far more intelligent than she’d seen before. Long straight legs, rounded bellies, and prickled ears gave them a striking elegance. No saddles rested on their backs, nor headcollars or reins. Unable to keep her eyes from them, she reached out a hand, but they stood too far away for her to touch. They were truly magnificent.

  “Jiangnu?”

  Daocheng’s voice ripped her from the horses. Lowering his weapon, he rushed forward. Chuo hurried to his side. Only when they pulled a bleeding Jiangnu onto the ground did she realise the horses weren’t alone. Kang lowered Mulan to her feet and helped her cross the few paces to where the huli jing lay.

  A river of blood drenched her clothes to the point no one could tell what the original colour had been. Her flesh was bone white, the number of cuts and bruises adorning her face and exposed skin testifying to the severity of the torture she’d been subjected to. Tears in one sleeve revealed a grisly wound, the bones and tendons beneath peering up in all their sickening glory. Her jagged breaths provided the only indication she was still alive.

  This can’t be Xuan Wu’s work, Mulan thought, holding onto Kang’s wet arm for support.

  Chuo and Daocheng knelt beside her, applying pressure to the wounds. “We’re going to help you,” Daocheng told her, his tone frantic.

  Jiangnu’s eyes fluttered open, as if it took all her strength just to do it. “Can’t help me,” she said on a croak, the words barely audible. “I’m already dead.”

  “What happened?” Chuo asked, trying to keep his words soft as he brushed a lock of hair from her blood covered face.

  “Prince Jizi attacked the temple.”

  Mulan swallowed. “And Xuan Wu?”

  Jiangnu shook her head slowly. “Incapacitated.”

  How in the eighteen hells did someone incapacitate a god?

  “Fuck,” Kang spat, his face tightening. “What do we do with the seal now?”

  The huli jing’s breathing became shallow. “Xuan Wu sent me to tell you. Destroy the seal.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “Take it to the ancestral cave. Far to the east. Khitan territory. Near Hulunbuir. Place it in its rightful place. It can only be. Destroyed there. Before the doors open.” Coughs wracked her body, and pain flashed like lightning over her face. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth once more. “Don’t let. The prince open it. At the end. Is something. No mortal. Should have.”

  Mulan’s brow creased under Jiangnu’s words. “What’s at the end of it?”

  But whatever Jiangnu knew, she took with her as death stole her soul, leaving nothing but her cryptic words and her mangled body behind.

  Thirty-Two

  As silence descended, Mulan closed her eyes and whispered a prayer for Jiangnu’s soul. Maybe her lover would be waiting for her on the other side of death’s embrace.

  Opening her eyes, she lifted her gaze towards Kang and took a deep breath. “Do you know the way to Hulunbuir?”

  Kang nodded, but his dark eyes remained troubled. “Yes, but it takes a month to reach it even with fresh horses along the way.”

  Daocheng’s eyes scanned the horizon. “Can we discuss Hulunbuir on the way?” he asked, rising to his feet. “Those worms weren’t far behind and I for one don’t want to be caught out in the open when they catch up.”

  “You’re right,” Kang replied, hoisting Mulan onto the nearest horse and jumping behind her. “Let’s put enough distance between us and here.”

  “What about Jiangnu?”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Kang shook his head. “We’ll have to leave her here. Hopefully some kind soul will bury her.”

  “Wait,” Chuo called, reaching beneath Jiangnu’s body and tugging at something. “She’s got a bag full of stuff. It might come in handy.”

  “Grab it and let’s go.”

  As Mulan cast one last look at Jiangnu’s body, she felt the horse quiver in anticipation beneath her. Kang’s grip tightened around her waist. Tying a small leather bag to his waist, Chuo jumped onto the back of another horse at the same time as Daocheng. Using his legs, Kang urged their horse to move. Lurching forward, clods of earth and dust billowed around their legs.

  Mulan sucked in a shaky breath as the horse raced east, its movements so fast that the world became nothing more than a blur. She’d grown up around horses, had spent more time on the back of one than at her loom to her mother’s despair, but never had she seen any as fast as these.

  Daocheng and Chuo rode alongside them, leaning forward, their legs settling in the creases between the barrel and shoulder muscles. Their faces fixed into expressions of rapture and surprise. Twisting her head around, she watched the other two horses remain only a few steps behind despite not having riders of their own.

  “They’re amazing,” Mulan shouted over the din of galloping hooves, the taste of earth filling her nostrils. Each time the horse bounced off the ground, ripples of pain flowed through her leg, but she refused to say anything. If they stopped now, it gave the Rouran a chance to catch up.

  “They’re Heavenly Horses,” Kang shouted back, his breath warm against her ear. “Or Blood Sweating Horses.”

  Mulan glanced down at her hands, shocked to see the faintest hint of red tinging her palms where they’d touched the horses coat. “At least I’ll blend in with them,” she half joked, causing Kang to laugh in her ear.

  Hours passed in a blur of scenery, pain, and awe. They rode through open plains, the grass thinning in places, exposing the soil beneath which their horses sent flying behind them before cutting through streams and rivers. Kang ensuring they stayed well away from any settlements or towns, in case their inhabitants informed the Rouran who wouldn’t be too far behind.

  Mulan couldn’t help but wonder how they could when the Heavenly Horses were so damn fast. Still, no one wanted to take any chances. They cut through the landscape faster than any other creature. Blink, and they were gone.

  But with such power the Rouran sorcerers possessed, wouldn’t surprise them if they suddenly appeared around the bend.

  Riding at such speeds was exhilarating, but it came with a price. The wound on her thigh burned with pain, and Mulan was forced to bow her head so that no one could see it etched across her face. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she gritted her teeth, forcing them back.

  Finally, Kang manoeuvred the horses into a small forest. Slowing down, it gave Mulan some respite. By this point, the pain had travelled throughout the length of her leg, but at least the constant jarring of it onto the horse’s body ceased.

  The light of day gave way to dusk, and the trees cast long shadows along the ground. Birds cooed somewhere in the twisted branches and sounds of small scurrying told them they weren’t alone. Somewhere nearby, the trickle of a small stream sang sweetly, reminding Mulan they hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since leaving Na’s cave.

  Her mind became a battlefield of guilt and practicality. The Rouran could’ve killed everyone before they descended into the tomb after them. What good would returning to a village of corpses do?

  Still, the guilt ate at her gut.

  And Zong still hadn’t turned up.

  Kang led them away from the main path cutting through the woods and stopping at the edge of the stream. Not bothering to fasten the horses, he lifted Mulan from its back, settling her against the trunk of a thick tree, leaves scattering the ground at her feet. “How’s the leg?”

  Mulan glanced down, unable to keep the truth from him. “Hurting,” she admitted. T
he sweat from the horse’s coat stained her clothes, but at least they were dry. Lifting her head, she could see the same red tinge smeared over everyone’s clothes and skin.

  Kneeling beside her, Kang stretched her leg out, his fingers gentle. “Let me take a look.” Slowly, he untied the makeshift tourniquet and pulled back the edges of her ripped clothes, now stuck to her skin with dried blood. Wincing, she glanced down. Rivers of crimson, dried and parched, ran past her knee. Several inches above, the edges of the wound glistened with fresh blood, ready to give new life to the arid channels below. The sight sent bile racing to the back of her throat.

  A heavy sigh poured out of Kang’s mouth. Behind him, Daocheng and Chuo looked on. “It’s deep,” he finally said. “We need to seal it together.”

  At the sound of his words, Mulan’s blood ran cold. She’d heard tales as a child from her father’s men, of how to seal severe wounds. They mostly included a red-hot rod, a lot of screaming, and ended with an unconscious patient.

  As Mulan thought about whether it would be a good idea to ask them to hold her down, Chuo began rummaging in the bag he’d taken from Jiangnu’s body. A second later, he pulled a tiny jar from within, and shouted with joy. He threw it to Kang.

  Brows slamming down, Kang opened the jar and took a sniff. Eyes widening, his head shot up. A faint smell of liquorice and star anise floated on the air. As Kang dipped a finger into the jar, Mulan frowned. “What is that stuff?” she asked.

  “The same medicine we used on you after you escaped the Rouran,” he told her, smearing the contents over the wound.

  A hiss of pain escaped her mouth at his touch. In the rapidly darkening light, it appeared black. A second later, a warmth spread over the wound, seeping further into her leg. It caressed her from inside, relaxing her muscles to the point as if she didn’t have any at all. Mulan wondered if someone had poured warm honey into her veins before placing her into a relaxing bath. Slumping against the tree, she sighed.

  Through the haze that settled over her eyes, Mulan watched as Kang stood to his full height. “Chuo, start gathering some firewood. Daocheng, use your bow to see if you can catch any fish in that stream. We’ll camp here tonight. Mulan needs to rest for now.” Tossing the bag towards Kang, Chuo and Daocheng turned to leave. “But don’t go too far. We need to stick together.”