Wild Orchid

by Cameron Dokey

  “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 name 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 the 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 match 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 of 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 at 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 po
int,” 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 its throat. A cheer went up from the soldiers, even as I felt my body 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 shot 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 in 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 could 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. 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 and 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 cut 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 newcomer 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 my 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 all the 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 me 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 my shoulder. I stood still but trained my eyes 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 something to eat, and then let him rest. But have Gong-shi at the ready, in case I should call.”