If I had been a son, I could have gone to fight in my father’s place. My father could have remained home and our family could still have kept its honor. But I was not a boy; I was a girl. A girl who could ride a horse, with or without a saddle. A girl who could shoot an arrow from a bow made for a tall, strong man and still hit her target. A girl who had never wanted what other girls want. A girl unlike any other girl in China.
I must not let my father go to fight, I thought. I will not.
I would not watch my father ride away, and then stay behind to comfort my stepmother as she cried herself to sleep every night. I loved them both too much. And I had waited too long for my father to come home in the first place to stand in the door of our home now and watch him rid away to die.
And so I would do the only thing I could to protect both my father’s life and our family’s honor: I would go to fight in his place. I would prove myself to be my father’s child, even if I was a daughter.
I waited until the house was quiet and then waited a little longer. I had no way to make certain the others were asleep. If I’d had to make a guess, it would have been that none of us would get much sleep that night. But finally the walls themselves seemed to fall into a fitful doze, as if acknowledging that the future was set and there was nothing to be changed by keeping watch through the night.
I threw back my covers and slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in my oldest clothes, the ones that made me look the most like a boy.
My ears strained against the silence, alert for even the slightest sound.
But the house stayed peaceful all around me. Whispering a prayer of thanks, I gathered the few belongings I had decided to take and tied them into my winter cloak. It was not as warm as my father’s because it had no fur lining. But it would have to do. I took my bow and quiver full of arrows and slung them across my shoulders.
I tiptoed to the kitchen, wrapped some food in a knapsack, and retrieved a water skin. I would not risk filling it here but would do so from the stream. Then I let myself out of the house and walked quickly to the stables. I did not look back. I feared that if I did, I would lose my nerve, in spite of all my resolve.
It was fortunate that my father’s great stallion and I were well acquainted with each other. Otherwise my plan would have been over even before it had started. I fed the horse a bit of apple, and he let me saddle him without protest. I was just leading him from the stall when the door to the stable slid open. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“I thought so,” Min Xian said as she poked her head around the door.
“Min Xian,” I breathed. “Be quiet. Come in and close the door.”
“What’s the point in doing that when you’ll only open it right back up again?” she asked, but she did lower her voice. “You didn’t think I was going to let you go without saying good-bye, did you?”
“You knew I would do this?” I asked, suddenly feeling the hot sting of tears behind my eyes.
“Of course I did, little one,” my nurse said. She crossed to where I stood, my hand on the horse’s neck, and she placed her hand on my arm. “I saw you watching them at dinner, and saw into your heart, my Mulan. I should stop you.”
“No. you shouldn’t,” I said. “It’s the only way. You know it too, Min Xian.”
“I don’t know that,” she answered crossly. But I knew Min Xian too well to be deceived. The longer she sounded cross, the longer she could postpone crying.
“But even these old eyes can see that it may be the best way,” Min Xian went on. “Now turn around. You can’t go off with all that hair.
It’ll give you away for sure. If I cut it and then tie it back, you’ll at least stand a chance of looking like other peasant boys.”
“Oh, thank you, Min Xian,” I said, for I had worried about my hair.
I turned my head and felt her strong fingers grasp my braid. A moment later there was a tug and a rasping sound as Min Xian moved the knife blade back and forth. And then my head felt strange and light. Min Xian tucked the thick braid of hair into her sash. Then she quickly rebraided what was left on my head, tying the end with a leather thong.
“That’s better,” she said. “Now take this.” She turned me back around and thrust a bundle into my hands.
“I packed food,” I protested.
Min Xian gave a grunt. “Take more. It’s a two-day journey to the muster place, and you’ve never ridden as hard as you must to make it there in time. If you faint from hunger as soon as you arrive, you’ll be no use to anyone.”
“Only girls faint from hunger,” I said. “And I’m no longer a girl, remember?”
Min Xian gave a snort. “Hold your tongue unless you’re spoken to,” she said. “Go quickly. Don’t stop to make friends on the road. It will be full of many such as you, going to do their duty.” She stepped back. “Get along with you now. And remember that no matter what you show on the outside, inside you have a tiger’s heart.”
“I will,” I promised. “Please tell my father and Zao Xing that I love them.”
Min Xian nodded. “I’ll hardly need to do that,” she said. “They already know it, and they’ll feel it all the more strongly once you are gone. Hurry now. Before I change my mind and wake them up instead.”
“Help me, then,” I said. Together we carefully lifted each of the horse’s hooves and wrapped them in cloth. This would keep the noise from giving us away as we crossed our courtyard. Once I reached the hard-packed earth of the road, I would take them off. There would no longer be a need for silence.
Min Xian went with me as far as our gate, helping me to ease it open. I led the horse through and stopped to free his feet. Min Xian took the cloth from me, clutching them to her chest.
“Mulan.”
I swung myself up into the saddle, heart pounding. I was really going to do this. I was going off to war.
“What is it?” I asked. “Speak quickly, Min Xian.”
“There is something you should know before you go,” she said.
“Something that I should have had the courage to tell you long ago.”
“What is it?” I asked again.
“Your mother’s name was Xiao Lizi.”
Before I could answer, Min Xian stepped back through the gate and shut it fast behind her.
I put my heels to the horse’s flanks, urging him out into the road. I was glad he was sure-footed, even in the dark, because I could see nothing through the tears that filled my eyes/
My mother’s name was “Little Plum.”
TWELVE
I arrived at the assembly place for the Son of Heaven’s great army after two days of hard riding. Along the way I had plenty of opportunities to be grateful for Min Xian’s advice. Two long days in the saddle is not the same as an afternoon’s ride for pleasure. By the time I reached the place of the muster, my whole body was aching and sore. But I had done it, becoming one of the steady stream of men and boys traveling to do their duty.
I moved as swiftly as I could, and I spoke to as few people as possible.
The longer I traveled, the colder it became, for I was moving almost due north. More than once I wished for my father’s fur-lined cloak.
For as long as I live, I will never forget my first sight of the great encampment and the army that the Son of Heaven had called together to defend China. It was a large valley at the mouth of the mountain pass through which the emperor’s spies had said the Huns planned to attack. As I approached, it seemed to me that the land itself had come alive, for it moved with men and horses. The air above it was filled with the smoke of cooking fires. A long line of recruits clogged the road that was the only access. As we waited, word of what was happening began to move down the line.
Each new recruit was being asked a series of questions before he was given his assignment and permitted to enter the valley. The army would be divided into three large companies, each one led by one of the princes.
“As for me, I hope to fight with Prince Jian,” said the man bes
ide me. He was not quite my father’s age. Though, with his face lined from the sun it was difficult to tell.
“You’d do better to fight for the middle son, Prince Guang. He’s the better fighter, or so they say,” commented another.
“That may be,” the first man answered. “But I’ve heard that General Yuwen is commanding Prince Jian’s forces. He’s an old campaigner. I’ve fought with him before. And the young prince is the emperor’s favorite, or so they say.”
“That must make things happy at home,” a voice behind me remarked.
The older man beside me snorted. “I know nothing of court intrigues,” he replied. “But I do know this: Many things can happen in the heat of battle.”
After that there was no more talking, as each of us stayed busy with our own thoughts. Soon enough I came to the head of the line.
Where the road ended and the encampment began, the land widened out. There a group of experienced soldiers were interviewing the recruits and handing out assignments. Those of us on horseback now dismounted. I reached to thread my fingers through the horse’s mane, and he turned his head, blowing softly into my face through his large nostrils, as if to offer reassurance.
“You, boy, what is your name?” the official barked.
I had given this a lot of thought and ha decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. I could hardly say my name was Hua Mulan, for there wasn’t a boy on earth who was named orchid. But I thought that I might risk my family name.
“Hua Gong-shi,” I answered as boldly as I could.
“Huh,” the soldier said, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a smile. He sounded exactly like my father.
“You are young to have such a fine horse,” the soldier said. All of a sudden he thrust his face right into mine. “Unless, of course, you stole it.”
“I am not a thief,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm with the insult. My heart began to pound in fear and anger combined. But even then my mind was racing faster.
Think, Mulan, I told myself. If I could think, and act, quickly enough, perhaps I could turn this situation to my advantage.
“The horse was a gift,” I said now. “From General Yuwen Huaji himself. Go and ask him, if you don’t believe me.” The soldier made a sound of disgust. But he did step back. I had managed to sow a seed of doubt.
“You expect me to disturb a general on your behalf?” the soldier inquired, his tone sarcastic. “Perhaps I should just turn you over to his aide right here and now. He’ll soon get to the bottom of this.”
“Perhaps you should,” I said at once.
“You,” the soldier said, pointing to a boy even younger than I who stood nearby. “Go and get General Yuwen’s aide and bring him back here. I can’t remember his name, but the one who’s always with him. You know the one.”
“His name,” I said firmly, “is Li Po.”
“I can’t believe it,” Li Po said some time later. The fact that I had not stolen my remarkable horse had been established once and for all. I was now assigned to Prince Jian’s forces – specifically, to an elite archer corps. I had Li Po to thank for both these things, just as I had him to thank for my first hot meal since leaving home.
“Which part?” I asked now.
“Any part,” Li Po said as he handed me a cup of steaming tea.
Though our conversation was impassioned, we were both careful to keep our voices low.
“When I realized it was you, I thought my heart would stop. You shouldn’t be here. This is not a game, Mulan. What on earth were you thinking?” Li Po frowned. Before I could answer these questions, he posed another. “What did you say you were calling yourself?”
“Hua Gong-shi” I answered, taking the tea from him just in time.
At my reply Li Po dropped his head down into his hands, though not before I thought o saw his lips begin to curve into a reluctant smile.
“You told them your name was Bow-and-Arrow?”
“It was a better choice than Wood Orchid, don’t you think?” I said.
Li Po sighed. “I am happy to see you. Don’t misunderstand me,” he said, lifting his head, “but…”
“My stepmother is going to have a baby,” I said before he could go on. “The emperor sent no word to my father. Instead we received the same summons as everyone else – that every household in China must send a man to fight.”
“Every household must send one man,” Li Po said. “That’s precisely my point.”
“Tell me something, Li Po,” I said. “How long do you think my father would have lasted as a foot soldier? What do you think it would do to him to ride away to war leaving yet another pregnant wife behind?”
Li Po’s face looked pinched, as if he hated to speak his arguments aloud. “Your father is not the only older man to answer the emperor’s call.”
“You’re absolutely right,” I answered. “He is not. But I saw an opportunity to spare him, and I took it. It is done. Hua Gong-shi is not the only lad to answer the summons either. And I have skills many other boys do not. You ought to know that. You saw to it yourself.”
“I’ll have to tell General Yuwen. You realize that, don’t you?” Li Po said. “He’ll recognize the bow on your back, not to mention the horse.”
“You must do what you think is best,” I replied. “That’s what I’ve done, and all your fine arguments will not make me sorry for it.” I sat back, and we eyed each other for a moment.
“You look well, Li Po.”
“Stop trying to flatter me,” he said. “It won’t get you anywhere, not for the rest of the day, anyhow. I’m going to stay mad at you for at least that long.”
Without warning he leaned forward and pulled me into his arms.
“If you die, I’m never going to forgive you, or myself. But I am glad to see you, Mulan.”
“Gong-shi,” I mumbled against his chest as I wrapped my own arms around him and held on tight. “I’m surprised the general trusts you if you can’t remember even the slightest details.” Li Po gave a strangled laugh, and we released each other. It was just in time, for in the next moment the flap of the tent whipped back.
General Yuwen stood in the opening.
“I heard we had an interesting new recruit,” he said. He moved forward, letting the tent flap fall closed behind him.
I got to my feet, prepared to bow. “Stop that,” the general said.
He caught me to him, much as Li Po had. And then held me at arm’s length while he studied me.
“I ought to take you out behind the tents and thrash you,” he said.
I managed a shaky laugh. “You’ll have to get in line behind Li Po.”
“You should listen to her…him,” Li Po said, making an exasperated sound as he corrected himself. “I may not agree with everything your new recruit has to say, but he does make several interesting points.”
“My stepmother is going to have a child,” I told General Yuwen.
“The emperor sent no word for my father, no call to return to his previous duties. It seems he is not to be forgiven, even now, when the wisdom of his words has been proven beyond a doubt.” General Yuwen nodded, his lips forming a thin line as if he were holding something bitter in his mouth.
“My father and stepmother, they love each other,” I said softly, and suddenly my voice caught at the back of my throat. “You know what it is to lose someone you love. You watched your own son die.
Once I saw the way my father and stepmother felt about each other, I could not let him respond to the emperor’s summons. I could not. So I took the horse and came in his place.”
I gave a watery laugh. “And the funny thing is, I didn’t even like her at first.”
“Mulan,” General Yuwen said gently. “Mulan.”
Then, just as swiftly as the tears had come, they vanished. I was through with crying. I steadied my feet, put my hands on my hips, and lifted my chin, just as I had on a day that seemed a very long time ago. The day when I had knelt, soaking wet, in a strea
m and seen two men on horseback for the very first time.
“No,” I said. “I am no longer Mulan. I stopped being Mulan two days ago. Take me out behind the tents and thrash me if you must, but you won’t make me return home. I’m staying, whether you like it or not.”
“She told them her name was Hua Gong-shi,” Li Po spoke up.
“So I assigned her to the prince’s new corps of archers. She shoots almost as well as I do.”
“I am well aware of that,” General Yuwen said. “Did I not give her my own son’s bow?” He passed a hand across his face, and for the first time I saw how tired he was. “Well,” he said.
He moved farther into the tent and sat down. Li Po poured him a cup of tea.
Once Upon A Time (7) Wild Orchid Page 9
