In the Rouran camp, warriors also readied for battle. Swords were being sharpened and bows were being stretched. Böri Khan was also preparing. He stood with his bare chest glistening as he washed himself. It was a ritual, one that allowed him to brace himself both physically and mentally for the fight ahead.
Khan was pleased. His army had grown, and now hundreds of yurts filled with hundreds of men dotted the harsh landscape around him. It had taken him more time than he had hoped, but with the death of Duba Tegin he had ensured the loyalty of all the tribes.
Now they just needed to take over the Empire.
Hearing the familiar screech of a hawk, he turned as the bird flew into his tent. As he watched, the creature transformed. Wings became arms, claws turned to feet, and soon Xianniang stood in front of him.
“You have news from the garrison?” Khan asked, not stopping his washing.
The witch nodded. She had been on patrol for most of the night and looked bothered to not have his complete attention. “New soldiers,” she reported. “Children. It will fall. Before the new moon you will take the kingdom. You will have your revenge. If our plan continues.”
At her words, Böri Khan’s hand stilled and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. He didn’t like the defiant edge to her tone. “What threatens our plan?” he asked. As he spoke, he took a menacing step toward the witch.
“I must be able to trust you,” Xianniang said, her tone cold. She did not shrink away from Böri Khan’s hulking body, but she did lift her chest higher, as though trying to match him.
“You can’t trust me,” he replied, taking some small satisfaction from the surprise that flickered over the witch’s face. “But you have no choice. When I found you out on the desert steppe, wandering alone, you were exiled. A scorned dog. Your powers meant nothing without me.” He stopped, his words hanging heavy in the air. He stared down at Xianniang, waiting for her response.
In a flash, Xianniang’s talons were out and wrapped around his neck. “I could tear you to pieces before you blink,” she hissed.
Böri Khan felt the talons at his throat and saw the anger in the witch’s eyes. But he remained calm. When he spoke, his voice was even—and ice cold. “Remember what you want. A place where your powers will not be vilified. A place where you are accepted for who you are.” He watched the witch’s expression grow angrier as the words she had said to him in confidence echoed back at her. “You won’t get what you want without me. And do you want to know why?” He paused, though he knew she wouldn’t answer. “No army will follow a woman.” He let his words hang in the air. “Trust me or not, I’m your only option.”
Böri Khan watched as the anger dimmed in her eyes. Xianniang knew he was right.
“Remember you also need me, Böri Khan,” she replied after a short pause, her grip still tight on his neck.
“I don’t deny it,” Böri Khan said.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer. Xianniang withdrew her talons from Böri Khan’s throat.
“We will finish what we started,” she said.
This time, Böri Khan gave a nod. “Yes,” he agreed. “And you will see to it that nothing—and no one—stands in our way.”
Pushing past her, Böri Khan put on a tunic and strode over to the door of the yurt. Yes, things were falling into place. He had his army. He had his witch. And soon he would have his kingdom.
Mulan stared out at the thick mist in front of her. The sun tried to cut through the gray, making it hard to see what was shadow and what was real. Astride Black Wind, Mulan could make out a bit more than the soldiers on the ground could. But not much more.
She had been surprised when Commander Tung had ordered them to stop in the middle of the mist-filled valley. It seemed like that would put them at a disadvantage strategically. But apparently not. This way, the commander told them, the element of surprise would be on their side. They knew which direction the Rouran army was coming from, whereas the enemy had no idea what now lay in wait.
As the sun grew stronger, it burned off the mist. Slowly, the shadows disappeared. Mulan’s breath caught in her throat as the last of the wisps disappeared, revealing a massive army across from the Imperial battalion. The Rourans seemed to cover the entire horizon, banners of dozens of tribes whipping in the air.
In front of them all was Böri Khan. He sat astride his midnight-black stallion, his eyes cold and calculating, even from such a distance. Mulan tensed, and beneath her, Black Wind shifted nervously on his feet. As part of the cavalry, Mulan would be in one of the last groups to charge. But it didn’t matter when in the order she would go. Now that she had seen the enemy, the last tiny sliver of hope that she might avoid battle had faded.
Turning, she saw her friends standing among the infantry: Po, Yao, and Ling. The usual confidence was gone from their faces, replaced with apprehension. Scanning further still, Mulan saw Skatch and Ramtish. Without their fake beards or monk robes, they seemed smaller somehow. And fear was etched in every weather-worn line on their faces. Mulan felt a flash of sympathy for the pair. They had wanted no part of this war, and yet she had brought it to them. If they survived the battle to come, she vowed, she would figure out a way to apologize—even if she still hadn’t forgiven them for stealing Black Wind.
Her eyes stopped on Honghui. To her surprise, he was staring back at her. For a moment, they held each other’s gaze. The other sounds faded away, and all Mulan could hear were the uneven gasps of her own breath and the pounding of her heart. She saw in Honghui’s eyes the same questioning look, the same unspoken apology, that she knew hers held. Both recognized this might very well be the last time they ever saw each other alive. And in that moment of realization, all the competition and animosity fell away. In its place was something neither would have dared give voice to: respect . . . but also something deeper. Something they couldn’t explain, but that caused Mulan to feel flushed and made Honghui shift on his feet.
The sound of drums boomed through the valley, startling Mulan. She dropped her gaze from Honghui’s. Pushing aside the strange sensation settling in her stomach, Mulan turned back to the valley and the enemy beyond. It was time to focus.
The battle was here.
As the drumming grew louder and faster, the front line of Imperial soldiers kneeled. Behind them, the archers stepped forward, readying their bows. Cricket stood in the middle of them, his eyes clear, his shoulders steady. Mulan couldn’t help being impressed. The boy had become a warrior.
Commander Tung raised his hand. The army seemed to take a collective breath. And then, the commander gave the signal. As the Imperial flag waved down, the archers let their arrows fly. They arched high over the valley—now a battlefield—toward the Rouran army beyond.
If Commander Tung thought this first wave of attack would intimidate Böri Khan, he was quickly proven wrong. The Rouran warrior didn’t even wait for the arrows to land before he gave his own signal. In an instant, the sound of the drums was muted by the pounding hooves of hundreds of horses as Böri Khan led his army racing across the valley.
The archers kept the arrows flying. Some found their targets, knocking Rourans from their saddles, but they barely made a dent. The Rouran army was huge. It would take more than the archers to bring it down.
Waiting anxiously for Commander Tung’s signal, Mulan watched as Böri Khan shouted to a few of his men and then, with a dozen or so of the warriors, peeled off from the main body of the army. The momentum carried the rest of the army forward. Acting quickly, Commander Tung shouted orders to the cavalry—including Mulan—sending them after the Rouran leader. While the rest of the infantry and archers took their chances with the oncoming horde, the cavalry exploded after Böri Khan.
Black Wind’s mane whipped behind him as Mulan rode the horse across the valley. Ahead, she could see Böri Khan, and the warriors she now recognized as the fabled Shadow Warriors noticed they were being followed. With a shout, one of them spun around so that he was riding his horse backward. As the horse galloped on, unbothered, the Shadow Warrior notched two arrows, letting them fly in quick succession.
An Imperial soldier nearby shouted as he was hit and knocked from his horse. Mulan didn’t have time to register fear, as a moment later, the other arrow zipped past, barely missing her. She heard a thud as another rider fell. Still, they raced on.
As the ground changed beneath them, growing rockier, Mulan notched her own arrows. She barely took notice of the steamy, mountainous environment they had entered. She had eyes only for the Rouran warriors. More enemy soldiers were spinning on their horses, firing arrows faster and faster. The Imperial soldiers began to fall with more and more frequency. Some were felled by arrows, others when their horses tripped on the rocky terrain. Steam caused by the warm air spewing from the volcanic vents rose, clouding Mulan’s vision, but still she rode on as one by one the other Imperial soldiers, deciding the Rouran leader was too far gone, turned and retreated to the battlefield.
Soon Mulan was alone.
Black Wind’s pace slowed. Mulan looked over her shoulder at the other soldiers who were now racing away. The thought of following them in retreat was strong. But stronger still was the sound of Commander Tung’s voice in her mind as he called out the Pillars of Virtue. It was her duty as a member of the Imperial Army to be loyal and brave. She might not be able to live up to the virtue of truth, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t fight for the other pillars. Dragging her gaze from the sight of the fleeing Imperial Army, she spotted Böri Khan disappearing into the steam ahead.
Screwing up her courage, she urged Black Wind on and followed.
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