Once Upon A Time (7) Wild Orchid

by Cameron Dokey

  It did not matter that I now was called by a boy’s name. Even Prince Jian ceased to be important. All that was important was that in my heart I knew what I could do. I knew who I was.

  I was the only child of the great general Hua Wei. I had come here so that he might have a long and happy life, and to give him a gift he had not asked for, that of holding his second child on the day that child was born.

  I had come because, as strange and unusual as I was, I thought I could accomplish one unusual feat more. One that had been inside my heart from the moment it had begun to beat, or so it seemed to me in that moment. I had come to make my father as proud of me, his daughter, as he would have been of any son.

  Or, barring any of these fine things, I wished, quite profoundly, that I might not make a complete utter fool of myself.

  I widened my stance and pulled back on the bow. I sighted along the shaft of the arrow, picturing in my mind where I wished it to go.

  The cold evening breeze tugged at my sleeves, as if urging me to let go. But I did not listen. For once in my life I remembered to be patient.

  The wind died away, and I let the arrow fly.

  My shot was not as perfect as Prince Jian’s. His had pierced the target straight through the middle of its throat, while mine passed through just to the right. But it was a good shot nevertheless. A killing shot, had that distant figure been alive. As my arrow found its mark, a second cheer went up.

  “The boy can shoot. Perhaps he’s got the right name after all,” I heard one of the soldiers remark.

  “Move the targets back,” Prince Jian commanded. Once again he flashed me that smile. “And turn them to the side.” A man in profile offered less of a target than one facing front.

  “And my young friend here will shoot first this time.” Taking this second shot was more difficult than the first. One good shot can be made by even the worst of archers. And this time I let my nervousness get the best of me, my arrow passing not through the target’s neck but embedding itself in the target’s upper arm.

  “The shot is still a good one,” the prince said over the murmur of the crowd. “For now that arm is useless and cannot be raised against China.”

  He accepted an arrow from General Yuwen and let it fly. Like the first, the prince’s second arrow passed cleanly through the target’s neck, piercing it from side to side. Again a cheer went up from the crowd. Then it was cit off abruptly as, with one body, the assembled spectators dropped to their knees.

  “Entertaining the troops, I see,” remarked an unfamiliar voice.

  Belatedly I knelt myself, with Li Po at my side. Even General Yuwen and Prince Jian made obeisance, though the prince merely bowed.

  “So this is the boy who carries a warrior’s bow,” the voice went on. “I hope you can do more than just carry it on your back.” I could not have answered, even if I’d thought a response was necessary. My tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth.

  “How many shots?”

  “Three, Brother,” Prince Jian said. “Two are accomplished. There is one to go.”

  “Why not shoot together?” the newcomers asked. “Prince and commoner, standing side by side. Such an inspiration, wouldn’t you agree?”

  This must be Prince Guang, I realized. Though surely he would never have performed the act he was urging on Prince Jian. For if a prince and commoner performed the same action but only the commoner prevailed…

  Oh, be careful, I thought. Then I wondered if I was cautioning myself or Prince Jian.

  “An excellent suggestion,” Prince Jian answered. “For surely we all carry the same desire in our hearts to rid China of her enemies, prince and commoner alike.”

  “Get up, boy,” Prince Guang instructed in a curt tone. I stood, praying that my trembling legs would hold me up, and was careful to keep my face lowered. With a gloved hand Prince Guang grasped my chin and forced my face upward.

  “This one has a soft face, like a girl’s,” he scoffed.

  His words made my blood run cold even as it rushed to my face.

  Though, in truth, I did not think Prince Guang had the slightest idea that he’d guessed me secret. He was simply looking to add further insult to his younger brother, should I outshoot him.

  Prince Guang released my chin and stepped away, wiping his hand against his overcoat as if the touch of my skin had soiled the leather of his glove.

  “I look forward to the contest.”

  At a signal from Prince Jian the final target was moved into position and placed so that it was an equal distance between us both.

  The prince held out a hand for his arrow and nodded to me to do the same.

  “Listen to me, Gong-shi,” he said so quietly that I thought his voice carried no farther than General Yuwen and Li Po standing directly behind us.

  “Nothing is more important than defeating the enemies of China.

  When you let your arrow fly, remember that.”

  “Sire, I will,” I promised.

  Together we took our positions, sighting the target. As I looked down the shaft of my arrow, the world dropped away. I did not feel the tension of the crowd or Prince Guang’s clever malice. There was only the feel of the bow and arrow in my hands, the tug of wind, the sight of the target. A great stillness seemed to settle over me. The whole world seemed sharp and clear and calm. I pulled in a single breath and held it.

  Prince Jian is right, I thought. Nothing is more important than defeating the enemies of China.

  I released the breath, and with it the arrow. For better or worse, the deed was done.

  I was barely aware of Prince Jian beside me, mirroring my actions. The arrows flew so quickly that I could hardly mark their flights with my eyes. As if from a great remove I heard the sounds they made as they struck home. For several seconds not a single person reacted. And now the only sound that I could hear was that of my own thundering heart.

  Then, suddenly, it did not beat alone.

  For it seemed to me that I could hear a second heartbeat, pounding out a rhythm a perfect match to my own. Its beat had been there the while time, I realized, shoring mine up, urging it on.

  Prince Jian, I thought.

  Then every other thought was driven from me as the crowd of soldiers surrounding me and the prince erupted in a great roar of sound.

  Now, at last, I realized what my eyes had been trying to tell me all this time. The prince’s arrow and my own had found precisely the same mark, passing directly through the target’s throat. It was the best shot I had ever made, and I had done it with my heart beating in time to that of Prince Jian.

  He moved to stand beside me then, clapping my on the back as he threw back his head and laughed in delight. I staggered a little under the gesture, for, abruptly, I was dizzy.

  “Well done,” Prince Jian said, his hand resting on my shoulder.

  “You come by your name honestly, Gong-shi, and I think you are more than worthy of that bow.”

  “Bring me the arrows,” he instructed Li Po.

  Li Po took off running, returning a moment later with the arrows in both hands. At a nod from Prince Jian, Li Po held the arrows up for all to see.

  The points were joined. Prince Jian and I had each shot so true that the points of our arrows had pierced each other and the target both.

  “That is fine shooting,” I heard the voice I knew was Prince Guang’s say. I would have knelt, but for the sudden tightening of Prince Jian’s grip on the rough stubble of grass that covered the ground of the target range.

  “I will remember it, and you, Little Archer.”

  Without another word Prince Guang turned and walked away. I swayed, my legs threatening to give out under me. I thought I heard Prince Jian murmur something beneath his breath.

  “This lad is ready to drop, Huaji,” he said to General Yuwen.

  “Where do you lodge him?”

  “With Li Po,” General Yuwen said.

  “Good.” Prince Jian nodded. “Have Li Po get him somet
hing to eat, and then let him rest. But have Gong-shi at the ready, in case I should call.”

  Prince Jian gave my shoulder one last squeeze and let me go.

  “You have keen eyes and a strong heart, Little Archer,” he said before he turned away. “I have need of both. I will not forget you either.” FOURTEEN

  “I wish they’d stop staring,” I murmured to Li Po as we crossed the camp the next morning.

  I had gotten my first full night’s sleep since leaving home, and had enjoyed the first hot breakfast, besides. Though General Yuwen had stayed with him long into the night, Prince Jian had not sent for Li Po or me after all. But shortly after breakfast we received word that the last of the scouts had returned. Now a meeting was being held in Prince Ying’s tent, and we had been summoned. General Yuwen was already there.

  “You’d do well to get used to it,” Li Po replied. “You are famous.” He glanced down, mischief briefly dancing in his eyes. “Little Archer.” I made a face. If we’d been alone, I’d have stuck my tongue out.

  But I knew better than to do that when the entire camp seemed to have their eyes on me, watching to see what impossible deed I’d perform next.

  “And I wish they’d stop that, too,” I said.

  At this Li Po grinned outright. “I know. But you can’t really blame them, any of them. You are famous now, and you aren’t very tall, not for a boy.”

  “Especially not after you’ve done your best to whittle me down to size,” I remarked. We walked in silence for several moments. “Why should the princes summon us to this council?”

  “I am included because I am the captain of Prince Jian’s archers.” Li Po answered. “You, because he had asked for you, I suppose.”

  “Prince Guang will be there too, won’t he?”

  Li Po nodded. “It’s a pity that he seems to have taken a dislike to you. Prince Guang is not a good adversary to have.” We walked in silence for a moment while I digested this fact.

  “Why should he bother with me at all?” I asked finally. “I’m only a common boy. Surely I’m not worth his time.”

  “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d say you were right,” Li Po replied. “But our present situation is far from ordinary.” He turned his head to look at me. “You really did make an extraordinary shot yesterday, you know.”

  I had told no one what had happened in the moments after I’d let my final arrow fly, not even Li Po. I wasn’t certain that he would understand. I wasn’t all that sure I did myself. I was closer to Li Po than to anyone else, but never had I felt as close to another human being as I had when I’d felt my heart beat in time to that of Prince Jian. It was as if we had become the same person, our two hearts beating as one.

  “It’s not only your shooting, of course,” Li Po went on. I recalled my wandering thoughts. “There’s also the fact that Prince Jian has taken a liking to you. That alone would be enough to bring you to both his brothers’ attention.”

  “Let’s hope the oldest, Prince Ying, doesn’t decide to dislike me on sight too,” I remarked.

  “That is not his way,” Li Po replied. “But if you will listen to some advice…”

  I nodded my head, to show I would, and Li Po continued.

  “It might be a good idea for you to do a little noticing of your own. General Yuwen says you can tell much about a man by studying those whose company he chooses. It’s always a good idea to know who the favorites are.”

  “That is good advice,” I said, and nodded.

  “As long as you don’t let anyone see that you are watching,” Li Po added after a moment. “The trick is –”

  “I know what the trick is,” I interrupted, struggling to push back a sudden surge of annoyance. “The trick is to watch without looking like you’re doing it. What makes you so bossy all of a sudden? All of this is new to me, I admit, but I’m not completely without brains, you know.”

  Li Po stopped walking and seized me by one arm.

  “If I’m bossy, it’s because I’m worried about you,” he said, speaking in a low, intense voice. “Is that so wrong? In a matter of days target practice will be over and we will all be going to war. And you are not like other people. You are unpredictable. You always have been, Mulan. If I’m warning you, it’s only for your own good.”

  “My name is Gong-shi,” I corrected. “And since when are you always careful and wise?”

  Li Po gave my arm a shake. “That is not the point.”

  “Then, what is?” I cried.

  “The point,” Li Po said through clenched teeth. “The point is that I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to ride home and have to explain to your father why I didn’t take one look at you and send you right back home where you belong. It’s what I should have done. I never should have let things come this far.”

  “You didn’t have a choice,” I answered. “And neither did I. not once Prince Jian asked me to shoot at his side. Before that, even, when the guard accused me of stealing my father’s horse. It’s done.

  Let it go, Li Po. I can’t change things and neither can you.

  “Besides, we went over this yesterday, when I first arrived. Let us not spend the hours we have together arguing like children.” Li Po let go of my arm. “You’re right,” he said, his voice still strained. “I know you’re right. But I can’t help but feel afraid for us both. When this is over, I still plan to shake you until your teeth rattle.”

  “Yesterday it was thrashing me behind the tents. Today it’s shaking me until my teeth rattle,” I said. “Make up your mind.”

  “I’m giving serious consideration to both,” Li Po said, but not I heard a hint of laughter in his tone.

  “Well,” I answered, “at least you’ll have a while to make up your mind. Any thrashing you mete out will have to wait until after we’ve defeated the Huns. Now come on. Let’s go.”

  We walked in silence the rest of the way. Arriving at Prince Ying’s tent, we identified ourselves to the guards outside. A moment later General Yuwen appeared in the flap opening.

  “Good. You are here,” he said. “Come inside, but do so quietly, and keep your wits about you.”

  We ducked inside the tent. General Yuwen made a gesture, showing us out places. The center of the room was dominated by several tables filled with charts and maps. The princes and their advisers were bent over them, talking quietly. Servants and lesser soldiers stood along the perimeter. Li Po and I took our place among them. I was glad that Li Po had warned me about what to expect, though I still had to struggle to control my surprise.

  Everyone – even the servants – was standing up.

  It was Prince Jian’s doing, Li Po had explained. The prince had made his position clear at the very first council of war and had refused to back down. He would not discuss battle strategy with men on their knees. A man should be able to stand on his own two feet when deciding the best way to send others into battle – when weighing the options on which his own life might hang, and the lives of his soldiers.

  But Prince Jian had not stopped with insisting the generals be allowed to stand in his presence. He insisted the soldiers called to the councils should be allowed to do so as well, for it was their fate that was under discussion. It was an unheard-of changed in protocol.

  Prince Guang had been furious, but Prince Jian had not budged. He would not ask any man to kneel before him when they were both doing the same thing: trying to determine the best way to safeguard China.

  Prince Ying had agreed to his brother’s terms first. Prince Guan had held out longer. But word of Prince Jian’s actions had spread quickly through the camp. His popularity had skyrocketed. It was said that even those soldiers not directly assigned to Prince Jian’s service would willingly die for him. For he treated them not like pieces on a game board but like men. In the end Prince Guang had given in.

  The result was that all those who would plan strategy with the princes were allowed to move around the room as they wished, though I soon noted how careful everyone
was to keep a respectful distance from the princes. But even this much freedom was a drastic change from years of tradition.

  Like me, it seemed that Prince Jian was different.

  “You still insist on ignoring the smaller pass,” he was saying now, his tone heated. It seemed that Li Po and I had arrived in the midst of an argument.

  “And you still insist on wasting resources where there is no danger,” Prince Guang shot right back.

  I let my eyes flicker to Prince Guang’s face before returning to the spot on the wall of the tent I had chosen as my focus point. I had selected this spot with care, in an attempt to follow Li Po’s instructions to keep my eyes open without appearing to do so. By choosing a spot about midway up the side of the tent opposite where I stood, I could see anyone in the room simply by shifting my eyes.