War (Chi Warriors Book 3)

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War (Chi Warriors Book 3) Page 3

by Ino Lee


  This was her first chance to settle her thoughts and take in all that had happened. Up until now, she had continually been on the run, but here, everything was still.

  She hated it.

  She stared mindlessly out the window until Yao returned with a bowl of noodles and some fruit.

  “Here you go,” he said. “Fresh from the kitchen.”

  He set it on a side table next to her. The scent of beef stock snapped her out of her daze, and the warmth of the bowl made her feel better when she held it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Someone will come by to clean up after.”

  He turned back to the door, but Ting called after him.

  “Yao?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you stay here longer?”

  Yao was surprised. The brash and unruly child now looked helpless. He sat near her.

  A silent moment passed.

  “You’re not lying, are you?” he said.

  Her eyes welled up with tears. “My mom said not to.”

  Ting found it hard to sleep. She tossed and turned on the uncomfortable cots, switching from one bed to another, only sleeping for a few hours at a time while a flurry of thoughts tormented her. If only she hadn’t been so picky with her food and accepted bitter melon for dinner, she might have been there to save her mother. Then again, they might both be dead. Was there a chance her father made it out alive or was she an orphan now? Where would she go? She could try to find Hojin, but Shaolin was so far away, and how would she get there? Would they even let her in?

  She sat up by the window, hoping to silence the worry with the distraction of the city, which was so much different than anything back on the farm. She saw numerous flickering lights and wondered why people were up so late. The vastness of the metropolis was intriguing, and a part of her wanted to investigate its nocturnal affairs, perhaps on another night, in a different place and time. She then turned her gaze outside the walls to the dark wilderness. The barrenness was a stark contrast and made her afraid, even though she lived on a farm and was used to the solitude; the experience of Koon Kagi demons must have rattled her. New questions arose. Why had the Koon Gee come? What was their purpose?

  Her attention shifted again to the battlements atop the city wall, which was darker now than before. Only a few torches were lit, which seemed odd since she remembered seeing so many more earlier. Her eyes bounced around when a figure passed by the torchlight, causing her heart to skip a beat.

  What was it? Something tall and thin.

  Panic. She instinctively grabbed her satchel, heavier now with a few more gatehouse items to snack on, and rushed out the door.

  The hallway was quiet, making each squeak of the floorboards sound like thunder as she tiptoed to the staircase. A scream sounded from the floor above her, followed by the alarm bell from the guard station below. She recognized the bell’s deep clang from when she sounded it earlier. Could Yao be ringing it now? He was supposed to be on night duty and all she could think of doing was finding him.

  She ran down the stairs. Everything went silent temporarily before a multitude of cries brought the gatehouse to life. Fighting was taking place on multiple levels. Anguished cries of ambushed soldiers waking up to violence mixed in with the fierce howls of engagement, louder at each floor’s landing and then muffled again as she wound down. Somewhere she heard high-pitched giggling. She emerged from the staircase to a room full of combatants: city guards fought dark ninjas and unan. Bodies and shadows tangled in the dim lantern light.

  Crouching low, she made herself small and skirted through the chaos. She felt like she did back on her farm when she picked her way through the fields with an unan on her tail. A guard and a dark ninja rolled on the ground in front of her. Fortunately, a little girl was hard to notice and she made it out the door.

  She exited down another flight of steps and curled around the building toward the gate’s guard station, the sound of the alarm bell now silent. A rush of Koon Gee poured through the city’s open gates, some clashing with soldiers, others running freely through the streets. She peeked around the corner, hoping to reach Yao, but it was too late. The body of a city guard could be seen on the ground with a dagger stuck in his back, his ponytail hanging free.

  Her face hardened.

  A few buildings burned nearby and when she looked up at the gatehouse, flame appeared in the upper windows. There was nothing left for her here. South Gate was lost. It was too dangerous to remain, so she pulled her satchel close and ran up an empty street, hoping the invaders would continue to overlook a little girl.

  Her feet scrambled past sounds of terror as more buildings went up in flames. She didn’t know what she would do or where she was going, only that she had to get away, lost and alone. The image of the city’s flickering lights came back to mind as she thought of all the unsuspecting inhabitants and the fate that was about to befall them.

  Sheer hopelessness overwhelmed her for the first time in her young life. She looked up at the sky and screamed for her brother.

  4

  “HERE THEY COME,” Han whispered, pointing his war mace at a large siege tower on wheels.

  Xiong squinted. “Right on schedule.”

  Han lowered his weapon. “For such cruel and violent creatures, they are surprisingly organized and punctual.”

  “This time it will be to our advantage.”

  The siege platform was being towed in haste, with dawn not far from breaking. The Koon Gee had spent the entire night attempting to overtake the Great Wall’s battlements, but pulled away before morning when their advantage of darkness would be lost. They had pressured their defenses many times over the past few weeks, with the strongest push coming that night. Several breaching platforms had been employed and were somewhat effective in getting enemy forces on top of the Wall; while other towers had been used before, they were often temporary threats taken down by fire, but these particular structures were well-built and fireproofed. Flame resistant animal and dagwai skins were tightly wound around each piece of lumber making up the towers’ lengthy frames, allowing them to be used for multiple assaults. Though the attack that night had ultimately been repelled, there was a growing sense that unlike before, breaching the Wall was within the realm of possibility. Given enough time, the Koon Gee would break through.

  Han waited in anticipation and attached a spear-like lance to the top of his mace. It was sharp and pointed, smooth in one direction for easy piercing and jagged barbs in the opposite for grip, like something that would have been made for catching monster fish. He jiggled the tip to test the connection, but it held firmly in place. Solid, he thought. The custom-made tool would do the trick, but of greater importance was their ability to move fast and covertly. Quick and efficient, he told himself. Their chances of success hinged on it.

  “Get ready,” Xiong warned, crouched behind a rock.

  The details of the first pillar came into focus, which was preceded by a squadron of dark ninjas. They were silent and observant, their red eyes shepherding the way with enhanced night vision. Though attentive, they were unaware of the ambushers hidden among the rocks, the escort of the siege platforms seemingly like any other that had come before it. They would wheel the war machines to their haven in the canyons for safekeeping until the daylight hours passed, then make the reverse trip back to the Great Wall for a brand new siege come nightfall.

  The Shaolin warriors lay in wait along a narrow section of the road bordering a ravine. Xiong examined the procession through a makeshift gap in a mound of rock that had been constructed beforehand to spy on the troops without being seen, each slab of rock meticulously placed and readjusted so as to look natural from afar. Though the warriors grew weary of Xiong’s exactness, he would not have it any other way—every precaution must be made in order to avoid suspicion. He supposed they could have just hidden behind the roc
k and ducked out every so often, but he wanted the ability to have eyes on the convoy the entire time. Nothing would be left to chance.

  He looked about restlessly, scrutinizing every detail and calculating the infinite possibilities of things that could go wrong. What if the ninjas spotted one of them? Could they fight off the entire party and still accomplish their mission? How many more Koon Gee trailed behind? What if his calculations were off and the tower was too heavy?

  The ninjas passed by without incident despite Xiong’s worry, but the danger had just begun. Next came the tower. A train of zhuks hauled the structure forward with thick ropes, while others pushed from behind. Lanterns attached to the platform swayed and cast dancing shadows of the lumbering beasts as they methodically marched in tune. Gravel occasionally popped from underneath the tower’s massive wheels. Xiong examined the structure and found the dagwai skins especially morbid, imagining what it would be like to employ such a weapon with human skins.

  The tower passed by, and was followed by another, hauled by an even more menacing line of zhuks. This tower was much different from the others—it was larger, the bulk of its frame held together by steel, with a drawbridge on the top floor built for rapid deployment of troops onto the ramparts. The Shaolin warriors nicknamed the tower the Immortal Crane, an impressive feat of engineering feared for its ability to breach their defenses and withstand fire.

  The ambushers shifted in place, ready for action. Han touched the tip of his lance to reassure himself of its sharpness, and by the time a third tower came into view, he jumped into action with the others and targeted the Immortal Crane.

  He caught up to the side of the tower and plunged his lance deep into a wooden support timber, using it as leverage to push his side of the platform right. Numerous other sumos latched on with similar blades, groaning as they leaned in with the full weight of their bodies and tried to steer the hefty pillar toward the ravine. The zhuks felt the sudden change in direction and a few tumbled to the ground, but others recovered to pull back on the towing line, stalling the tower from going over.

  Xiong charged in with the glowing Sword of Shaolin and slashed free a towing line, causing the platform to regain momentum and a column of zhuks to fall back on their heels. Shouts of alarm erupted as secondary Shaolin forces backed the sumos’ charge. Archers fired chi arrows at zhuks and dark ninjas, while monks popped light orbs around them.

  When Xiong sliced through a final cable, the tower sped up even faster and the sumos strained to accelerate, emptying the chi reserves stored within their blood and muscles. More sumos charged in from behind, batting down arrow-riddled zhuks and crashing into the platform’s rear to provide an extra jolt that left no doubt—the tower was going over.

  Metal and wood groaned and snapped when it hit the rocky bottom; a blissful tune of victory. Warriors cheered. Though the ravine wasn’t especially deep, it was tall enough for the drop to compromise the structure of the tower and cause it to buckle under its own weight.

  The zhuks tried to rally against the sumos, but the tide of battle was already against them. They were weaponless and tired from the long trip hauling cargo, and with many succumbing to injuries from arrows fired earlier, they were easy prey for the more prepared and energetic invaders.

  The Shaolin warriors did not remain to finish them off and instead retreated down the road, their primary mission accomplished. They followed a predetermined escape path out of the ambush zone past the third tower; unfortunately, what made the choke point ripe for an ambush also made it difficult to escape from, requiring them to press past the defenses of the trailing platform. Archers fired off several rounds in the new direction to thin out the opposition.

  Xiong looked back. The first tower could no longer be seen, most likely having continued on to escape the ambush. Their decision to run and save the tower was understandable, but the Koon Gee would have been better served staying and fighting since their plans only involved taking out the Immortal Crane; the Shaolin contingent lacked the manpower for a larger and more sustained operation, having kept their foray into enemy lands sleek and covert, but the Koon Gee didn’t know that. The turn of events opened up new possibilities. Less soldiers behind them meant more opportunity ahead. When he examined the escape route, he noticed that the third tower had pulled too far up the road before stopping, also making it vulnerable to the ravine. Since there was no danger from the rear, Xiong deemed his next play a worthwhile risk and made a battlefield decision.

  “Sumos!” He raised his sword. “Hands on the tower! Push it into the ravine!”

  He led the charge and deflected a flying sai knife from a ninja guarding the third tower, barely catching the glint of the blade by the glow of his sword. He supposed he should concentrate more on the field of battle now that he had laid his plans, diverting to intercept the ninja and deciding his skills were best suited to defending the sumos while they handled the tower.

  Han was the first to reach the platform, running into it head-on rather than latching onto the side. More sumos arrived to help, while the other warriors provided cover by engaging with the surrounding Koon Gee. A stationary tower was much more difficult to move than one already in motion, but this tower was smaller and the sumos had better leverage. The wheels of the tower slowly creaked into motion and gained speed until the tower finally tipped over the ledge.

  Shouts of victory erupted at the sight of the fallen structure. The sumos rejoined the fight and the Shaolin warriors plowed through the remaining Koon Gee forces.

  “Escape to the Wall!” Xiong directed.

  The warriors pulled away, their mission accomplished. They were deep in enemy territory and made sure to remain vigilant, not letting up again until they joined with auxiliary archers on their way back. The additional troops were camped out at a secondary checkpoint, too large to join the ambush force, and were relieved to see them as morning neared.

  “Shaolin! Shaolin! Shaolin!” the warriors shouted as they approached Shandong, at the Great Wall’s main gate.

  Soldiers up high acknowledged them with raised fists, waving from archery windows and parapets. The Great Wall’s gates slowly opened.

  “That was a fine foray,” Han said.

  Xiong agreed. “Two towers. Minimal losses. We could use more days like that.”

  “Your plan was flawless. I had doubts, but it worked to perfection. You are turning into one fine Shoukui.”

  Xiong smiled. “I am still not used to that name. I think people are referring to Li when I hear it.”

  “Do not be modest. You bear the sword well.”

  “The sword I am comfortable with. The legacy, the name—I still have work to do. I have much to prove.”

  “A few more victories like that, and you will have already proven yourself among the greatest. Have no doubt. You have the respect of the warriors. You single-handedly fought your way back from the depths of the Koon Kagi when we lost Li, and are the rightful heir. The Great Wall soldiers are grateful for you.”

  “No, Han, they are grateful for you. You are the Great Wall stalwart. You have been here ever since the war began, and some of the soldiers have even begun calling you the Wall.”

  Han laughed from his belly. “That could be confusing. I should hope that does not last too long. It would be nice to return home to Guilin someday.”

  “Someday.”

  A solider at the gate greeted them.

  He bowed. “Shoukui. Han. Glad you are well. We have been eagerly awaiting your return. How was your mission?”

  “Successful to say the least,” Han said. “It will be a while before we see another attack.”

  “You destroyed the Immortal Crane?”

  “Plus a secondary,” Xiong said. “That will set them back for a time.”

  The soldier looked surprised, then worried.

  “What’s wrong, Shin?” Han said.

  S
hin snapped back from his pensive state. “Oh, sorry Han. Your victory could not have come at a better time, but there have been some developments. We received a message from the South Wall and another from Hanai.”

  Xiong raised a brow. “The South Wall?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s about Tanjin again, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Xiong sighed. “And what about Hanai?”

  Shin looked worried again. “I think it’s best you see for yourself.”

  Xiong and Han trudged up the Great Wall stairs behind Shin. The pathway was old, but sturdy and made of well-fitted stone.

  “So much for victory,” Xiong said. “Not one morning passes before it’s negated.”

  Han grunted. “War is a tumultuous thing.”

  “One step forward, two steps back. Every time.”

  When they finally emerged at the top of the Great Wall, they walked across the battlements and examined the view northwest. The sun peeked over the horizon at their backs, ushering in a fresh new day that would have been spent basking in the glory of their pre-dawn success, if not for the wisp of smoke rising from Hanai.

  “How did this happen?” Xiong said. “Action was heavy last night, but there were no reports of Wall breaches.”

  “They came from nowhere in the middle of the night,” Shin said. “We received a message only this morning.”

  Shin held up a scroll.

  Xiong stuck out his hand. “Details, please.”

  Shin handed over the message.

  “South Gate was taken first. Koon Gee then flooded the city—mostly dark ninjas and unan, some dagwai. It was difficult for the city guards to tell the exact number. Perhaps several hundred.”

  “A few hundred is worrisome, though not enough to overtake the city,” Han said. “How bad is the damage? What is their purpose?”

 

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