Honour, She Obeys

by L. S. Slayford

Mulan hurried onwards, ducking when needed, pausing with the soft sounds of footsteps. A few minutes later, she reached the corner of the kitchens. Three buildings stretched in a line, the rich scent of onions, meat, and something sweet lingering in the air. Sounds of movement came from within, barks of orders and banging of pots, sending Mulan’s heart racing within the confines of her chest. Lights trickled into the edges of the darkness; with windows on either side, escaping would be tricky.

  A few feet away, just beneath the kitchen windows, the bottom edge of the stone wall lay in ruins. Over the years, the stones had deteriorated, and the gap widened with the dogs constantly squeezing under it; a few years ago, Mulan’s larger body had expanded the gap further. If she could get through, she could race towards the northwest, out of the sight of anyone still up to where her new horse stood waiting.

  Adrenaline scraping her nerves raw, Mulan crept on, keeping her head well below the window. Just a few feet away, the gap in the wall promised freedom if she remained calm. Inhaling deeply, she edged forward before she found she couldn’t move.

  Frowning, she tried again but something pulled her back. Turning her head around, she realised something caught the end of her cloak. Gritting her teeth, she carefully yanked but it refused to give.

  A loud crash slammed through Mulan’s ears, followed by a long stream of cursing. The gentle movements just a few minutes ago deepened to a roar. Every part of Mulan’s body screamed at her to leave.

  Tugging at the material once again, it finally gave way. Mulan scrambled to the floor, pressing her body hard against the cold earth. Wincing at the feel of stone scraping her face, she pulled herself through the gap.

  I’m free!

  Heart pounding and adrenaline surging, Mulan hurried west, keeping her body low so her head didn’t pass the top of the wall and allowing the inky night to cover her body with shadows. She only needed to get to her horse, tied up by the magnolia tree, and she’d be able to leave this place behind.

  Strong fingers clasped around her arm, yanking her back and causing her to stumble. “What do you think you’re doing?” hissed a familiar voice.

  “Digan, what are you doing here?” Panic coursed through her veins at the sight of her friend’s face, the moonlight exposing the anger painted over his features.

  Of course her father would have his bannermen on guard tonight.

  “Stopping you from making the most reckless mistake of your life. Get back inside before you get yourself killed.”

  With fear boiling in her stomach, Mulan knew what she had to do. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  Before Digan could open his mouth, she raised up her arm and swung, the sheath-covered jian striking his temple.

  Digan’s eyes widened, a pain-filled grunt escaped his mouth, and he sank to the ground, motionless.

  Mulan drew in a shaky breath, tasting the sour note of anxiety in the back of her throat. She reached down with trembling fingers and probed his neck. A second later, she breathed a heavy sigh. Thank the gods he’s still breathing.

  Another crash from within the kitchens yanked her head up.

  Time to go.

  Not caring if anyone saw her, Mulan ran towards her favourite spot. Beneath the light of the moon, the landscape was an expanse of silver and inky darkness. Within a short time, she caught sight of the grey horse she’d brought only a few hours earlier, tethered to the tree where Daocheng had attempted to talk her out of her plans.

  Climbing onto the horse, she gripped the reigns tight within her fists and urged him north.

  She’d take death by the Rouran than marriage to Luwei any day.

  Six

  Every inch of Mulan’s body begged her for rest, even for a few minutes. Beneath her, the thick muscles of the horses remained strong, but she could hear from the increasing effort of the its breathing that it needed a break as much as her.

  Leaning forward, Mulan rubbed the stallion’s neck. “Not long to go now, I promise,” she whispered, slowing the animal to a cantor.

  Up ahead, the first glimpse of a town emerged. Relief coursed through her body at the sight; the idea of a warm bed at last the only thing urging her to continue. The thought of sleeping outside for a second night held little appeal.

  Two days had passed since fleeing home, but Mulan dared not rest for long. If Digan had informed her father of her escape, it wouldn’t surprise her if he sent his men to find and bring her home. It wouldn’t matter if she was willing or not. Everyone obeyed Chief Zhou. A few hours headstart would buy her a little time, but nowhere near as much as she needed to get away safely.

  Instead of heading in a straight line to Black Gate, she’d opted to take the slightly longer route, bypassing the larger towns her father’s men would choose to search. Riding like the wind with demons chasing her tail, she’d followed the river, then crossed the valleys to the north, only stopping for short breaks here and there.

  The blue sky deepened to rich shades of purple, the clouds edged in dark hues. With night approaching, it was far too dangerous for Mulan to continue riding. With little light, there was no telling where they would be treading. Not only that, but the horse deserved to have a longer rest than what she’d allowed it so far.

  Slowly, the distance between her and the town lessened and soon she crossed through the main gate. Thick stone walls encircled the perimeters, standing at least fifteen feet high and three meters thick. Wooden and stone buildings dominated the town, the paved streets wide. Lamps burned already, casting shadows across what appeared to be the main street. Deep laughter echoed on the air as people rushed past her, mingling with the foul stench of dung and bitter smoke.

  Mulan urged the horse onwards. Up ahead, she spied what seemed to be an inn. Please let there be rooms available, she prayed. All around, people passed her, not bothering to spare her a second glance. Nerves ran through her veins; would anyone see past the armour she wore and discover the fraud she was?

  “Take your horse, sir?” a young voice called from below.

  Glancing down, Mulan spotted a boy around ten wearing a dirty tunic and mud-splattered trousers. Small heavy-lidded eyes shone with eagerness. Just behind him stood several horses tethered to poles, munching on hay from troughs in front. “Yes, please,” she said, forcing her tone low and pulling out a coin from the leather purse hanging from a cord around her neck. Leaving it tied to her side was an invitation to be robbed. Flipping it towards him, the boy caught it. “Give him some food and a rub down.”

  “Of course, sir. Anything else?”

  “Yes, you can tell me where I am.”

  “Bronze Horse Town, named after the huge bronze horse General Lu gifted to us in honour of the sacrifice we made in the last war,” the boy said. “But soldiers took it down to make swords a few years ago.”

  Mulan attempted to work out how far she had left to go. “How far is Black Gate Garrison?”

  Frowning, the young boy took the horse’s reins and tied him to a pole. Instantly, the horse began munching hay. “Thirty li northeast. You could reach it within a day. Pingcheng, the capital, is a hundred li northwest.”

  So far from home already.

  A knot of emotion swelled within her chest. She’d covered enough distance from Shenzhou to warrant a little rest then. She glanced around, watching a sea of people flow in and out of buildings, waves of conversation churning. “Is there somewhere to stock up on supplies?”

  After providing her with directions, Mulan headed over to the store the boy recommended, keeping her head down. The gritty feel of dirt smeared her cheeks and dusted over the leather armour she wore over her tunic. Wearing such items seemed strange, but at least it covered the, ahem, obvious parts that made her a woman.

  Gazing around the store, still bustling with customers, the selection of items on offer weren’t much, but it would have to do. Gathering what she needed – dried strips of various meat indistinguishable from others and some apples – Mulan hurried back to the inn with her bag full. A go
od hot meal, a wash, and a bed called to her.

  A gasp shot out of her mouth as soon as she stepped inside the inn. In the corner, drums and flutes played, barely audible over the din of conversation and occasional shouting. For a small place, Bronze Horse Town was packed.

  “Can I help you, soldier?”

  It took a moment for Mulan to register the voice addressing her. A middle-aged woman with a streak of grey sprouting at her temples filled her vision. Her hanyu, red adorned with dark blue flowers and trimmed in white, were of good quality but not flashy. “Any rooms available for the night? And something to eat?”

  A brilliant smile stretched over the woman’s mouth, revealing a chipped front tooth. “Right this way.”

  After leading Mulan to a table near the back and ordering a few dishes on offer, Mulan sat back and glanced around the inn. Torches blazed from the walls, dozens of them, sending light and shadows dancing around the room. She counted at least two dozen tables, most of them full.

  Men made up the majority of the occupants, some joined by beautiful young women dressed in a dazzling array of colours and hair adornments, stretching over their laps or their arms wrapped around their shoulders. Lingering caresses of roasted meats and the sharp tang of spices filled her nostrils. A young woman delivered a tray of steaming dishes to the table next to Mulan’s, making her stomach rumble.

  The food she’d been able purchase from the market hadn’t lasted as long as she thought it would. A bitter twang of emotions pinged in her chest at the memory.

  After leaving Daocheng beneath the magnolia tree, she’d hurried back to town, purchasing the light armour she wore, a whip, and food. In order to stop suspicions arousing, she’d been forced to purchase them all at different markets – thank the gods Shenzhou had four. Knowing there wouldn’t be a way of taking her own horse for her escape, she’d purchased the grey horse from a wandering merchant down on his luck.

  Much to her luck, the horse was a good one.

  Forcing her nerves to settle down, Mulan inhaled deeply. Snippets of conversations flowed around her.

  “Have you heard, the Rouran are using black magic against us. That’s why we’re going to war so late in the season.”

  “Those wriggling worms can’t do magic – they’re too stupid to use it.”

  “They’re searching for something.”

  “What could they want?”

  “I don’t know, but I hear it’s got Emperor Taiwu nervous.”

  “He’s not nervous, he’s fucking cruel. Merchants from Pingcheng told me this morning he executed several officers who failed a task. Cut off their ears and tongue, chopped off their hands, and ordered them to be sent back to their families.”

  “By the gods! How awful.”

  Ice slid around Mulan’s heart at the words. Being far out in Shenzhou, little information regarding court reached their ears unless some particularly scandalous gossip made it their way. Mulan knew next to nothing about the emperor or court life, but by the sounds of things, heading to the capital was somewhere she didn’t want to go unless she wanted her secret to be discovered.

  Being executed by the army for impersonating a male soldier was one thing; having body parts sent back to her parents was another.

  “Here you are, honey. This is our speciality, Thousand Plum Blossom wine,” came a young woman’s voice. Placing a jug in front of her, along with a cup, the server offered Mulan a stunning smile. Black hair lay twisted and coiled in intricate knots at the sides of her head while her lips were painted a vivid shade of red. Mulan estimated her to be around eighteen, the same as her. As she swept her gaze over Mulan’s dirt covered face, the girl’s small dark eyes glittered with something that made Mulan uneasy. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “Errr, just passing through,” Mulan told the girl, reminding herself to keep her tone low.

  Picking up the handle, the girl poured crystal-clear rice wine into the cup. “On the way to Black Gate?”

  “Yes.” Please stop talking to me. Maybe if I start drinking, she’ll leave me alone.

  The server continued speaking, her voice sickly sweet and high. “We’ve had so many men on the way to camp, but I must say, you’ve been the cutest so far.” Light fingers trailed over Mulan’s arm just as she took a sip. Wine spluttered all over the table. The girl laughed. “Don’t be shy. I don’t bite. Not unless want me to.”

  Gathering her wits, Mulan glanced away. Hopefully the dirt hid the blush staining her cheeks. “I just want something to eat and go to bed.”

  “Great idea!” The girl bent down, her breath warm on the side of Mulan’s face. “I finish here in an hour. I’ll meet you in your room.”

  Mulan’s throat threatened to shut off her airway and panic fluttered in her gut like startled butterflies. How in the eighteen hells did she get out of this?

  Suddenly, two hands gripped the girl around her waist and lifted her several inches off her feet. “How about meeting me in my room, sweetheart? I’ll show you a good time.” Thick strands of black hair fell across red cheeks, and Mulan caught the sight of wine stains running along the length of his thinning tunic and trousers.

  “Eww, no,” the girl exclaimed, placing her hands on his chest and shoving him away.

  “Come on, I’m lots of fun and still got plenty of coin.”

  “Xianrong,” called a female voice. Mulan recognised it as the woman who’d shown her to the table. “There are guests that need serving.”

  “Yes, Madam.” Giving Mulan a saucy wink, the young server hurried to the back of the room.

  As soon as she’d disappeared into the crowd, the older woman turned back to Mulan. She tilted her head to one side, a smirk forming over her face. “Xianrong may have taken a shine to you, young man, but she’s not cheap. Although she likes to give a discount to the pretty ones.”

  Mulan gulped, her hand freezing as she lifted the cup to her mouth. Did she really mean what I think she meant? “I’m not looking for company. Just a hot meal and sleep.”

  The innkeeper threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, you’re new to this. Just left your village for the first time? I’d wager you’ve never taken a girl to bed yet. From the looks of the armour and the sword you’re carrying, I can tell you’re off to war. There’s no guarantee you’ll come back. Have a little fun while you still can.”

  “I enjoy eating and sleeping,” Mulan replied testily, knocking back the wine. Heavens knew she needed it. “Nothing more is required.”

  The innkeeper shrugged, the smile fading. “Suit yourself.” Turning around, she quickly hurried away, barking orders at other young women with jugs of wine and dishes in their hands.

  Now alone again, Mulan released a heavy sigh and poured herself another drink. Dealing with amorous women was something she never thought she’d have to deal with when travelling as a man.

  But at least now she knew she could pass as one.

  “You’re such an idiot.”

  The slurred words caught her attention. Mulan twisted her head, setting the jug down. A frown etched between her brows at the drunken man. “What?”

  Brushing strands of hair from his face allowed her to study his features. Long upturned eyes locked onto her face, despite the slight wavering of his torso. Thin lips set in a scowl and the redness of his cheeks suggested he’d been drinking for quite some time. “A girl like that, worth every coin. She’d give you your money’s worth.”

  Mulan snorted, feeling her face transform into an expression of distaste at his loathsome words. “You shouldn’t talk about girls like that. They’re not objects to buy.”

  “Girls like that you don’t buy; you rent by the night.” Laughter erupted from his mouth as he slapped Mulan’s table, sending the wine in her cup sploshing over. His two companions joined in with the cackling. “Or the hour.”

  The rank smell of alcohol assaulted her nostrils whilst his foul words left a nasty taste in her mouth. Even after several years of training with her friends,
she’d never heard any man speak this way about a woman.

  Someone clearly needed to teach him a lesson in how to speak to women.

  “So how much is it to rent your sister for the night?” The words were out before she could shove them back in.

  The laughter descended into silence. “What?” Disbelief coated his tone. His eyes widened.

  Mulan leaned back in her chair and poured herself another cup. “Throw in your mother, too. Takes a lot to sate my appetite, but I’m sure all the practice they have will do it after a few hours.” She threw back the wine and swallowed, savouring the transformation from disbelief to rage on his face.

  “Why, you!” he fumed, anger darkening his eyes. “I’ll show you -”

  A fist shot towards her head, but the alcohol in his system made the movement slow enough for her to duck then jump to her feet, cup still in hand. Whipping around, he tried to strike her once more. Around them, conversations simmered to a low murmur then rose, encouraging the fight.

  Shoving her upper body back and narrowly missing the fist that hurled her way, she reached up with her arm, blocked it, and pinned it to the table. Without thinking, she smashed the cup over his head and bent him over, slamming his face into the table. The jug of wine fell onto its side, spilling its contents like a libation in honour of besting him. Somewhere in the background, she vaguely heard shouts demanding that they stop.

  Lifting her leg, Mulan shoved it against his lower back, using all her weight to keep him pinned beneath her. With her left hand, she grabbed a fistful of hair and brought her mouth close to his ear. “What’s the matter, don’t like me speaking about your family the way you spoke about the girl?” she snarled through clenched teeth. “Maybe next time you should treat women the way you’d want your sister to be treated. Keep your damn filthy words to yourself or you’ll find my fist down your throat. It’ll be a bit difficult to talk when you have no tongue. Understand?” She dug her knee further into his spine.

  A pain-filled groan spilled from his mouth. “Fine.”

  “Good,” she released her hold on the drunken slob, giving him a little shove in the process. Glancing up, she watched the innkeeper’s face swirl with mixed emotions. Reaching into her purse around her neck, she pulled out a coin and flicked it towards the older woman. “Sorry for the mess. I need some fresh air; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”