Honour, She Obeys

by L. S. Slayford

  Kang dropped lower, moving at lightning speed, catching Daocheng, Zong, Huyanti, and Chuo on his broad back. Digan’s feet plummeted into the depths of the river first, quickly swallowing him whole.

  As he came around again, red eyes fixed on her, telling her what she needed to do.

  She didn’t need to hear the words to understand him.

  Just as his deer-like antlers passed beneath her, Mulan scrambled onto the side of the bridge and sheathed her jian. Sucking in a deep breath, and praying she timed it right, she jumped.

  A second later, her knees locked around his back.

  “Archers! Where the hell are my archers!”

  Twisting her head around, Mulan glanced at the water. “We need to find Digan,” she shouted.

  Kang’s body meandered through the air and raced towards the water. When they were passing the spot she saw Digan fall in, Mulan propelled herself off Kang’s body.

  Despite the warmth of the morning, it seemed unable to penetrate the freezing temperature of the river. Mulan forced herself beneath the surface. The fact that she could hardly swim meant little to her. there was no way in any hell that she was leaving her friend behind. Her lungs burned with the need to breathe, but she forced herself down, her eyes searching through the gloom.

  After adjusting to the minimal light, she finally saw him. The weights chained to his ankles had forced him to the bottom, his arms squirming to get the rope off his wrists. Determination overriding the need to breathe, Mulan dove further.

  Quickly, she tugged the ropes off. Grabbing the handle of the weight, and gritting her teeth at how heavy it was, she pointed up. Digan nodded and began swimming. Still holding the weight, Mulan pushed off the bottom, struggling to keep up. When they broke the surface, she sucked in one grateful lungful of air after another.

  Kang’s dragon body hovered over the surface. A hand reached down for Digan, another for her. Daocheng’s face, bruised and bloodied as it was, was a welcome sight to behold. She scrambled onto Kang’s back once Digan was up, thankful that at least someone had managed to free themselves. Water dripped into her eyes, temporarily blinding her.

  “Archers, ready!”

  Prince Jizi’s voice above sent new waves of panic surging through her veins. A rumble tore out of Kang’s mouth and he shot across the water and up into the air. High above the broken bridge, Mulan watched as several archers took up position along the banks.

  From this height, she could also see the city gates. A faint acrid scent wafted on the air and thick plumes of smoke danced high above the walls. The incense that immobilised him in any form.

  The couldn’t escape that way.

  Kang twisted his head around, one red eye locking onto hers. His head nodded towards the water.

  Even though we planned this, it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  Mulan gripped a pair of scales tight. “Everyone, hold on. It’s going to be a wet, wild ride.”

  Before anyone could ask, Kang’s body darted back towards the river. Dozens of silver arrows pierced the air as the world shot past in a blur. The barrage of arrows narrowly missed Mulan’s face. Her grip tightened as the water loomed closer and closer. Her mouth opened to draw in one last gasp of air before the water swallowed them up.

  The last thing Mulan heard was the sound of Prince Jizi’s curses.

  Twenty-Three

  Mulan’s fingers dug into the mud, the slimy wet material squeezing through the digits as she coughed up water. How much had she consumed? Too much, according to her body.

  Fat drops formed a wet curtain as the pins holding her hair fell out, sinking into the mud. The hanfu she wore suffered several rips; how, she had no clue. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her shoes. Mud slipped between her toes as she scrambled up the banks, her fingers eventually finding grass. Rolling onto her back, she gulped in as much air as her lungs could hold, but it didn’t seem enough.

  Beside her, Zong groaned as he mirrored her actions. As her breathing returned to normal, Mulan forced herself to a sitting position, despite her body begging to lay back down.

  Daocheng’s head peaked above the bank, the braids in his hair falling over his eyes. Against his pale skin, the bruises adorning his face looked ghastly. Relief slammed through her soul at the sight of each of her friends. They may have looked like drowned rats, but they were still alive. That was all that mattered.

  Where they were, Mulan couldn’t say. The high walls of Pingcheng were nowhere in sight, replaced by an endless green valley with rolling hills and patches of woodland in the distance. Mulan’s eyes strayed to the river and the entrance that suddenly emerged from beneath a hill.

  It was amazing how fast Kang could swim in dragon form, gliding through the underground waterways that stretched beneath the city. The ride had been thrilling, and it was a wonder that she’d managed to hold on, but Mulan couldn’t help but be glad to be on solid ground once more.

  Unease stirred in her belly. Where was Kang?

  Scrambling to her feet, Mulan scanned her surroundings. The unease transformed into fear when she couldn’t see him. Huyanti dragging Digan up the bank, yes. Chuo collapsing onto the grass beside Daocheng, yes.

  But no Kang.

  Then she saw him, emerging from the river in human form once more. Black hair lay wet against his body, his face pale and drawn. He stumbled through the water, his movements sluggish. Mulan lowered her gaze to his chest; the blood on his hanfu turned pink by the river, but she couldn’t see any wounds.

  Without thinking, Mulan waded into the water, her arms flinging around his neck with such force that it caused him to stumble. Burying her head into his shoulder, the warmth of his body reassuring herself that he wasn’t dead. Kang’s arms wrapped around her, crushing her against his chest. For several heartbeats, she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, consumed only by the need to feel him.

  When they finally released each other, Kang began to lead her up the bank, only to fall to his knees before they reached the side. “Kang,” Mulan gasped, her hands tight on his arm from keeping him falling face first into the water. Was his injury to the chest more severe than what she thought?

  A groan slipped from his mouth. Whatever colour was left on his face had drained away. He was only two shades away from resembling a corpse. “It’s nothing,” he grunted, his breathing low and heavy.

  Mulan slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him to his feet. “I thought water was meant to heal you.”

  “It does, but there was an enchantment on Jizi’s blade and shifting when I was weak has taken a strain on me.” His face pulled into a wince as Mulan carefully led him up the muddy embankment. “I’ll be fine after a little rest.”

  Once on dry land, Mulan helped him to the ground. “You’d better be,” she told him in a stern voice.

  “Worried about me?” he asked, closing his eyes. After a minute, his breathing came easier, lifting the weight on her heart.

  “Yes, but don’t let it go to your head,” Mulan replied, hating how easily her voice was to breaking. “We need you.” She paused for a moment to glance around. “Where are we, anyway?”

  “About ten li from the city. The underground river branches off in several directions. I took us through the northernmost one.”

  “Mulan!”

  Huyanti’s frantic voice whipped her head around. He knelt beside Digan along with Chuo, the lines of their faces etched with fear. Behind them stood a magnificent cypress tree, its trunk at least the width of three men.

  Without a second thought, Mulan raced over, blades of grass sticking to the mud on her feet. Standing up, Chuo reached for her arm and leant in just before she reached them. “It’s not good,” he whispered.

  Mulan felt her forehead crease into deep lines. “What do you mean?”

  Chuo sucked in a ragged breath and lowered his head. “He’s ripped a main artery coming through the tunnel. He’s not going to make it.”

  Ripping her arm out of his grasp, Mulan s
hook her head. Hot tears burned the back of her eyes. “No.”

  “Say goodbye, Mulan. While you can.” He kept his voice level, but she could see it took tremendous effort for him not to break down.

  Heart pounding in her chest, Mulan took the last few steps and gazed down at the man who’d been her friend for as long as she could remember. His black hair lay against the ground, framing a face as pale as death. Deep dark bruises stained his skin, receding into faint greenish hues merging into unblemished skin. Parts of his tunic lay torn into strips; it was obvious from the cuts and bruises over his upper body that he’d suffered torture at the hands of the guards. Below, blood drenched his upper left leg. A tear in his trousers revealed an ugly gash on his thigh that continued to gush.

  Daocheng ripped off part of his tunic, pressing it against the wound. Not that it would do any good. Arterial lacerations meant only one thing.

  Digan was dying and nothing they could do would stop it.

  Guilt consumed her. If only she hadn’t waited so long to get to him. If only she hadn’t collapsed in the temple rescuing Kang.

  What if, what if, what if.

  The first hot tear rolled over the contours of her cheek as Digan slowly moved his head towards her. “You’re safe,” he said, his voice strained and weak.

  Nodding, Mulan forced herself to smile, even though it took tremendous energy to do so. She collapsed to her knees beside him. “I’m here. We’re all here. You’re going to be fine.”

  Closing his eyes briefly, he gave her the briefest of head shakes. “No lies between us. I can feel it, my life slipping away. It’s not warm, not cold. Just ... sliding up me, like a blanket.”

  “Please don’t die,” Mulan said on a sob, ignoring the faint sound of footsteps behind her. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Digan gave her a small smile. “How could you lose me? Friends are forever.” A wince pulled at his face. Mulan’s heart lurched in her chest. Daocheng’s fingers pressed harder against the wound, but blood continued to pool through the cloth. “I don’t regret coming after you, you know. When you left home. I don’t regret any of it. I love you, Mulan. You’re like a sister to me. My only wish is that I could be there, to stand by your side in the coming days. Dark times are coming. You need to be prepared for the fight.”

  Mulan’s fingers reached for his hand and squeezed tight. A hot tear splashed onto their cold skin. “Digan,” she whispered, her tongue unable to form the words she wanted to say.

  “But it’s fine, because I know you have the others. They’ll take care of you. And you have your prince. Any man who risks his life to protect his woman’s friends is a man worth fighting for.”

  Mulan glanced up to find Kang standing beside her. His hand rested on her shoulder. Moans escaped Digan’s lips and she turned back to him. His handsome features paled into bone-white and his eyes grew glassy.

  “We told you on the road to Pingcheng that he was half in love with you. Now I can see he’s completely fallen. Poor soul.” A spate of coughs wracked Digan’s body and it took a long moment for him to continue. His chest rose and fell on shallow, ragged breaths. “When you marry, you can name the first boy after me.”

  “And mine,” Huyanti said, his words soft but forceful as he clasped his best friend’s other hand. Tears blazed in his eyes and ran silent rivers over his high cheekbones. His jawline remained tight as it held back the flood of emotions they all felt.

  Zong fell to his knees beside Digan. “You’re my brother.”

  Digan lifted his head, and the smile slipped from his lips as he stared up at Huyanti. “I love you, too, brother.” His eyes closed, and his chest rose no more.

  Tears spilled a blazing path over the contours of Mulan’s face as she continued to hold onto Digan’s hand. Her insides knotted so tightly breathing was impossible. She barely felt Kang’s hand slip from her shoulder or heard his footsteps crunching on the grass.

  Huyanti let out a piercing roar of anguish and grief that burned throughout their hearts, falling back against the cypress tree. His hands gripped fistfuls of wet hair. Through the blur of tears, Mulan watched Daocheng remove his hand from Digan’s wound and lowered his head, tears streaking down his cheeks.

  Zong slumped forward, muttering an ancient prayer beseeching the spirits within Digan’s body to protect it in death. The softest ripple of energy circled the air around them. Mulan’s tears ceased to fall as she glanced upwards. Rising several inches over his body, a ribbon of silver floated, almost as if someone had thrown up a handful of moondust in the air. It pulsed and flowed for a moment before rising high and fading away.

  “He has returned to the Dao,” Zong finally said, his tone thick with unshed tears.

  As a devout Daoist, Mulan believed once a person died, they returned to the Dao, becoming one with it again. Death was meaningless, because a person was part of the Dao, the Way. Death was simply a way of nature, another rotation of the seasons of life. But damn, Digan still had so much more to experience.

  Silence fell thick on the air as everyone mourned. Mulan rose to her feet, her limbs numb. Slowly, she began walking west, towards a cluster of trees. Leaning her head back against the trunk of one, she closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh.

  “You lied to me.”

  Mulan opened her eyes to find Kang standing a few feet away. Colour had returned to his cheeks but something dark lurked in his eyes. “What?”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  Resignation slithered through her. The time had finally come. “My name is Mulan.”

  A flash of anger shone in his eyes. “You’re a girl?”

  “A woman,” Mulan corrected.

  “Are you even related to Chief Zhou?”

  “He’s my father. Mohuai is my baby brother.”

  Kang came to stand in front of her, his jaw tightening as he gazed down at her thunderously. “Why on earth would you join the army?”

  “Because I wanted to save him,” Mulan exclaimed, throwing up her arms. “He’d never have made the journey and if he was going to die, then it should be with his family around him. Not riding across the country with strangers.”

  Kang’s eyes narrowed. “And the marriage?”

  Mulan sighed. “That was true as well. The shaman told my father to wed me to another chieftain’s son, Wang Luwei. He’s sadistic and cold and would see me chained to his bed for the remainder of my life.” Mulan fixed him with a hard stare. “If I’d gone through with the wedding, I’d have killed myself.”

  “So you disobey the spirits wishes and your father’s orders to run away and join the army?”

  Something inside Mulan snapped. Pushing away from the tree, she closed the gap between them to almost nothing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Not all of us get to pick who we want to marry,” she chided him in a scathing tone. “You have no idea what it’s like, being betrothed to someone like that against your will. I did what I had to. For my family. For me.”

  “What if someone had found out about you, huh? I would’ve been forced to behead you for treason.” No words came to mind, so Mulan continued to stare at him. “War is no place for a woman, no matter how skilled with a blade she is.”

  Mulan snorted and the fire blazed hotter in her belly at his obnoxious attitude. Enough of this crap. She poked a finger in his upper chest, feeling the tension within his muscles. “You should be thanking me for joining. If I hadn’t, you’d be dead. Once at Tiger’s Claws Pass and another at your brother’s hand.”

  Exasperation painted Kang’s cheeks red. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “It’s not me who’s not getting it, it’s you!” Mulan snapped, frustration boiling in her veins. “I’m just as skilled as any other man under your command. But it’s not really about that, is it?”

  Kang’s body stilled beneath the venom in her tone. “What’s it about then?”

  Shaking her head, Mulan’s mouth stretched into a humourless smile. “Your feelings for me. You fell for me when you tho
ught I was a boy, despite never being attracted to men. Now you find out I’m a woman and it’s made you confused. Do you like men or do you like women? But instead of dealing with your emotions like any rational person would do, you take out your frustrations on me.”

  The first flicker of uncertainty painted Kang’s face and for a long moment he remained silent. “That’s not it,” he finally said, but Mulan could hear the doubt within his tone.

  “Of course not,” she replied, her brows raised high in disbelief.

  Kang opened his mouth to respond when Daocheng appeared at their sides. “Will the two of you shut up? Everyone can hear you,” he hissed, exasperation storming his bruised face. “We don’t have time for this.”

  Shame opened the earth beneath Mulan’s feet and swallowed her whole. She nodded and flicked her gaze back to Kang.

  “He’s right,” he said, reluctance in his tone. “We’re not as far from the capital as I would like. Jizi will likely have sent guards after us the moment we didn’t resurface.”

  “How well does he know the river?” Daocheng asked, his tone softening. Mulan knew he couldn’t stay mad at anyone for too long. It wasn’t his nature.

  Kang shook his head. “Not as well as I do, but enough. We won’t have long before the guards are upon us.”

  “Then we need to make a move.”

  Mulan’s mouth dropped open. “What about Digan? We can’t just leave him here!”

  Kang placed a hand on her elbow, the warmth of his fingers piercing through the wet fabric and into her skin. “We’ll take care of him first.”

  Since they lacked the right equipment for a real burial, they opted for the only other course of action. Taking large stones from the river, they built them around Digan’s body, protecting him from the elements for all eternity with the gentle sounds of the river to soothe the spirits.

  It may not have been on family land, but it would have to do.

  When it was over, Zong turned to Kang. “We all need to rest. You know this area better than any of us. Where can we go?”