Once Upon A Time (7) Wild Orchid

by Cameron Dokey

  “My heart may wish you safe at home, Mulan, but the heart is not always granted what it desires. This much all three of us know.

  Given the circumstances, I think Li Po’s choice makes good sense. Now I will drink my tea, with no further discussion.” We all drank in silence for several moments.

  “The prince has asked to meet you,” General Yuwen finally said.

  “To meet me?” I echoed, astonished. “Why?”

  “He meets as many of his new recruits as he can. But he pays particular attention to his archers. He is a fine bowman himself. And then there was the…somewhat unusual manner of your arrival. Did you really think a boy leading a war horse was going to go unnoticed?”

  “Apparently, I didn’t think at all,” I said.

  Li Po gave a snort. “I could have told you that much.”

  “I told the one who questioned me that the horse was a gift from you,” I said to General Yuwen.

  “We will let the story stand,” the general said, and nodded. “I have told the prince that you are a distant relation who once did my son a service, and that the bow you carry and the horse you ride were your rewards. I think he wonders at it, a little, but he hardly has the time to ask questions. There are many more important things to think about and do.”

  “What of the Huns?” I inquired.

  “All in good time.” General Yuwen replied. He got to his feet.

  “First I mist take you to meet Prince Jian. After that I will take you to be with the rest of the archers. Li Po is their captain. Did her tell you that?”

  “No,” I said. “He was full of other information, but he left that out.”

  General Yuwen gave a quick smile. “I have decided it would be wise for my young relative to share Li Po’s tent,” he said. “So that he has someone to guide him during his first experience of war.”

  “Let us hope that it will also be the last,” I said.

  “We shall all hope that,” said the general. “Now come. I will take you to Prince Jian.”

  THIRTEEN

  “The truth is, you’ve arrived just in time,” General Yuwen said as he walked beside me.

  All around us men snapped to attention as the general strode by.

  Everywhere I looked it seemed to me that I saw men tending to equipment and horses. An uneasy alertness seemed to lie over the men and animals alike, as if they understood that all too soon the battle would commence.

  “Our scouts report that the Huns are closer than we thought.

  They will be here by the end of the week. How best to meet them has been the cause of much discussion.”

  “Oh, but surely…” I began. I’d been in camp less than an hour. It was hardly up to me to voice an opinion as to how the battle should be fought.

  “No, tell me,” General Yuwen said, as if he had read my thoughts. “You should hold your tongue before the others but not before Li Po or me, at least not when we are alone.”

  “I though the way to meet them had already been decided,” I said. “The Huns must come through the mountain pass just beyond this valley or not at all.”

  “That is true enough,” General Yuwen agreed, “but there is more. There is also a second, smaller pass less than a day’s ride from here. It is so narrow no more than two men can ride abreast. Prince Jian thinks this pass should be protected as well.”

  “But his brothers do not agree?” I asked.

  “Not entirely, no. Prince Ying is cautious to express his opinions.

  That is his way. But Prince Guang has openly ridiculed his younger brother. We may be far from the imperial palace, but court intrigue is still very much with is, I’m sorry to say. And that is a thing of which Prince Guang is a master.

  “There,” General Yuwen said, pointing. “Those are the princes’

  tents. The one flying the green banner is Prince Jian’s.” The princes’ tents stood in the very center of the camp, arranged so that they formed a great triangle. Each had a pennant of a different color flying from its center roof pole. The red designated the eldest, Prince Ying, General Yuwen told me, and the blue the middle brother, Prince Guang. Each banner displayed the same symbol, the mark of the princes: the figure of a dragon with four claws. Only the emperor could display the figure of the powerful five-clawed dragon. Even from a distance I could hear the sound the banners made as they snapped in the cold afternoon wind.

  I was curious to see Prince Jian, the young man whose life my father had once saved, and whose fate was so closely tied to that of all China. Was it a blessing or a curse to bear the weight of such a prophecy? I wondered.

  “What is he like?” I inquired.

  “Prince Jian?” General Yuwen asked.

  I nodded.

  “He is unlike anyone else I have ever met,” the general said honestly. “Of course he pays attention to protocol. He is a prince. But he is also…approachable. The common soldiers love him, because he lets them speak.”

  “And his brothers?”

  “Prince Ying is the oldest, as you know,” General Yuwen said.

  “He has many talents. But I think that sometimes Prince Ying is misunderstood – especially by his father. The prince is a scholar, not a soldier. He has a deep and subtle mind. He will make a great statesman someday, a great emperor during peacetime.”

  “And the middle son, Prince Guang?”

  “He is the one to watch with both eyes open,” General Yuwen replied. “He is a courtier through and through. To turn your back on him is to risk exposing it to a knife. He resents being the second son very much, I think.”

  “Is it true what the men say? That the emperor favors Prince Jian?”

  “It is not my place,” the general answered, “to claim to know what is in the Son of Heaven’s heart.” He glanced over at me. “But to speak my own mind…I believe the emperor does favor Jian over the others, and that they all suffer as a result. To promote the youngest over the eldest disrupts the proper order of things. Only strife can come of it.

  “Besides, I do not believe that Prince Jian seeks out his father’s special favor. Though, like all dutiful sons, he desires his love.”

  “What does Prince Jian want, then?” I asked.

  “To be allowed to be himself more than anything, I think,” General Yuwen answered, his tone thoughtful. “Not an easy task for a prince. But even more than that, I believe Prince Jian wants what is best for China.”

  “Determining what that is cannot be an easy thing either, I should think,” I observed, remembering my father.

  General Yuwen gave a short bark of laughter. “And I think you are right.”

  We reached the princes’ tents. A sentry snapped to attention at our approach. The general announced that we had come as Prince Jian’s request, and the sentry gestured to one of the guards stationed on either side of the prince’s tent flap. The flap was closed to keep out the cold and to provide privacy. The guard ducked inside to inform the prince of our arrival.

  “No more talking,” General Yuwen said in a low voice. “But remember what I have spoken. Use your ears, not your tongue, and keep your eyes open.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  The guard reappeared and gestured us forward. The prince’s tent was much larger than General Yuwen’s, as befitted his rank. There were tables for maps, and chairs for the prince and his advisers. Rich rugs covered the hard-packed earth of the tent floor. General Yuwen and I entered and made our obeisance, kneeling and pressing our foreheads to the ground.

  “Ah, Huaji,” I heard a voice above my head say. “There you are.

  So this is the lad whose names is Bow-and-Arrow. Stand up, both of you. I would like to take a look at you, boy.” I got to my feet, though I was careful to keep my eyes lowered.

  My heart was pounding so loud it seemed to me all those in the tent must be able to hear it.

  “Let me see your face,” instructed Prince Jian.

  Gong-shi. My name is Gong-shi, I told myself over and over. But Gong-shi
was like Mulan in one important respect. Like her, he possessed the heart of a tiger.

  I lifted my head and gazed directly into Prince Jian’s eyes.

  They were dark, like my own. Glittering like onyx beads, they narrowed ever so slightly as he studied me.

  Those eyes will not miss much, I thought.

  Prince Jian’s face was striking. Taken feature by feature, I could not have described it as a handsome one. His forehead was, perhaps, too high and wide, his chin too strong. And even though at that moment I thought I detected the hint of a smile, if I’d had to make a guess, it would have been that all too often and particularly of late his mouth had been pressed into a thin, determined line.

  But, taken all together, it was a face that commanded attention.

  Prince Jian had a face that, once seen, would be hard to look away from, a face that would inspire others to fight for his cause.

  Though his clothing was made of rich fabrics, the prince was as simply dressed as I was. His clothing was practical, ready for action.

  This fit with the man General Yuwen had described, one who did not stand on ceremony. A man who commanded respect not just because of what he was, but because of who he was.

  And I found myself wondering, as if from out of nowhere, what it would take to make him truly smile.

  “You are very young, are you not?” the prince asked softly.

  During moments in which I had been studying his face, he had been making just as thorough a perusal of mine. I dropped to one knee, once more looking at the ground.

  “I am old enough to dedicate myself to your service, and to that of China, sire,” I replied. It was true that I had promised General Yuwen that I would use my ears and eyes rather than my tongue. But the prince’s question called for a response.

  You are not all that much older than I am, I thought, even as I focused my eyes on the rich carpets.

  It had been my father’s rescue of this prince that had earned him the right to marry my mother. Both events had occurred when Prince Jian was not yet ten years old. He would be in his early twenties now.

  “That is well spoken,” Prince Jian remarked, “but it will take more than fine words to defeat the Huns.”

  He stepped away, and I felt my heart beat a little easier. I had not offended him by speaking, after all.

  “That is your son’s bow he carries, is it not?” the prince continued, addressing General Yuwen now.

  “It is, my lord.”

  “An interesting present. Though I am sure you would have bestowed such a gift only on one who was worthy,” Prince Jian remarked.

  “I am utterly unworthy, sire,” I said, and then bit my tongue. For now I had spoken out of turn, since the prince had not been speaking to me at all. “I can only seek to repay General Yuwen’s generosity by proving my worthiness by fighting in China’s cause.”

  “Well spoken once more,” the prince replied. “What do you think, Huaji? This one has a monkey’s tongue. I’m beginning to think there is more to him than meets the eye.”

  You have no idea, I thought, grateful that protocol allowed me to keep my eyes upon the floor. I feared that if I looked at Prince Jian, I would give myself away. There was something about him that seemed to draw the truth from those around him. I wondered what he would think if he knew the truth about me.

  “I am tired of being inside,” the prince suddenly announced.

  “I’ve been in one tent or another poring over maps and arguing with my brothers since early this morning. I could use a little target practice myself, and I would like to see you shoot, boy. Let us go out, before the light fades.”

  “It shall be as it pleases Your Highness,” I said.

  The prince’s boots came into my view, and then he briefly rested the fingers of one hand on the top of my bowed head.

  “I doubt that very much,” he said softly, “but let us see what a little target practice can do to improve my mood.” With the prince leading the way, we went outside.

  Word spread quickly through the camp that Prince Jian intended to mach shots with the youngest and newest member of his elite corps of archers. By the time we arrived at the target range, a large crowd had already gathered. All the soldiers fell to their knees at Prince Jian’s approach, but neither their presence nor the way they paid him honor seemed to improve the prince’s mood. He made a curt gesture to General Yuwen, who commanded the men to stand up.

  It might have been easy for the prince to ignore the crowd. He was royalty, after all, and had grown up amid the bustle of a palace.

  As for me, the crowd at the target range seemed enormous. And the army of which I was now a part constituted more people than I’d seen assembled in one place in my entire life. As I thought of all these people who would be watching my every move, I felt a hard fist of fear form in the pit of my stomach.

  “I will set Your Highness’s arrows, if I may,” General Yuwen offered as we approached the line from which we would shoot. A series of straw targets had been set up some distance away. With a jolt I saw that they were in the shapes of men.

  Of course they are, I thought. That is why we are all here, Mulan. To protect China, at our enemies’ cost.

  Though the targets I now faced were larger than any Li Po and I had practiced on, I still wondered whether or not I would be able to hit one, for I had never shot ay anything like this before. But that is what you will be doing, I thought. Soon enough. And when it came time to aim then, it would not be at men of straw but at men of flesh and blood. I fought down a sudden wave of dizziness.

  “I accept your offer, Huaji,” replied Prince Jian. “Three arrows, I think, to start. That should be enough to see what this small one is made of, don’t you think?”

  And then, without warning, Prince Jian smiled. It lit up his features, making the spirit within him blaze forth. Prince Jian clearly enjoyed a challenge.

  With this realization I felt the fist in my stomach relax just a little. While there were many differences between us, in this the prince and I were exactly alike. I, too, loved a challenge, so much so that I had yet to find one that could make me back down. I was not about to start today, no matter how out of my league I felt.

  Very well, Highness, I thought. Let us see what an unknown archer and a prince may do, side by side.

  “And Gong-shi?” the prince asked. “What of him?”

  “I will aid him, with your permission,” said a voice I recognized.

  “Ah, Li Po,” Prince Jian said with a nod. “That is well. What do you say? Shall we give Gong-shi one shot extra, to let him test the wind?”

  “No, Highness.” I spoke before Li Po could reply. A sudden hush fell over the crowd. In it I realized that perhaps the words “no” and

  “Highness” did not belong together, at least not in a statement by themselves.

  “With respect,” I blundered on. “You have shaped your targets like the enemies of China, and they will show me no such kindness.” Again I felt Prince Jian’s keen eyes roam my face. “The lad makes a good point,” he acknowledged, lifting up his voice. “It shall be as he says.” And now the silence of the crowd was broken by murmurs of astonishment or respect, I could not tell.

  Concentrating fiercely, trying to shut out all but the task at hand, I took the quiver from around my neck and handed it to Li Po.

  General Yuwen was already in possession of Prince Jian’s arrows. The prince and I took our positions, sighting toward one of the targets.

  Behind us Li Po and General Yuwen knelt and thrust two arrows each.

  Points first, into the cold ground.

  Without looking back Prince Jian extended a hand. General Yuwen placed an arrow into the flat of his palm. The prince wasted no time. With swift, sure motions he set his arrow to the bow, pulled back the string, and let the arrow fly.

  Straight and true toward the target it went, embedding itself not in the straw man’s chest but through it throat. A cheer went up from the soldiers, even as I felt my bod
y tingle in shock.

  I might not have thought of that, I realized. If I had shot first, chances were good I would have aimed for the target’s heart. But a true warrior would be wearing armor. Though a common soldier might not, his body would be protected. This was why Prince Jian had shit through the neck. It was one of the few unprotected places on a warrior’s body.

  I swallowed, feeling my throat constrict. It seemed to me that I could feel the gaze of every single eye on the crowd. The bow, which I had so carefully and proudly trained myself to use, felt heavy and awkward in my hands. If I failed, I would be a laughingstock. And worse, my failure would reflect on Prince Jian.

  I extended my arm back, as the prince had done.

  “Remember to plant your feet,” Li Po murmured for my ears alone as he placed the shaft of the arrow into my palm. “Remember to breathe. Above all, remember who you are, for there is no one like you in all China, not even the royal prince who stands at your side.” At his words I felt my fear pass away. I returned to my true self.