The words were soft on his tongue, but Mulan felt their weight. “My word.” She sucked in a breath through her nose and opened her mouth. “But I think there’s more to the cave than what you’ve told us.”
A dark brow rose in her direction and an amused look stretched over his face. “Of course. You come back and I’ll tell you why it’s so important. Not just to the Tuoba, but to the gods themselves.”
Twenty-Seven
The late afternoon air was crisp and cool, with only a few clouds tarnishing the sky overhead. After weeks of confining her hair beneath a helmet, leaving it free as she rode over the grasslands filled Mulan with deep satisfaction.
Knowing that she was finally free to be herself without the fear of being beheaded by her military commander was just as good.
Knowing the fate of the kingdom rested on their shoulders, however, not so much.
Mulan grimaced to herself at the thought. Two days had passed since they’d left Xuan Wu’s temple, or prison, riding on horses that the god had presented them with. Chuo’s question of how he’d come to have horses when he couldn’t go anywhere was one they all wanted to ask. Xuan Wu’s answer was a simple shrug, saying all animals flocked to him.
Who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially when they came fully equipped with saddles and supplies.
Weapons included. In addition to her jian, Mulan was the proud new owner of a wickedly sharp dagger now tied around her waist. Xuan Wu’s gift of an elegant bow and quiver of arrows had lit up Daocheng’s eyes like fireworks. Chuo still possessed a sword taken from Jiangnu’s home but had accepted another from the god. Kang, however, took nothing.
Although it was a pity that Xuan Wu hadn’t been able to supply them with fresh clothes.
The horses had taken to Zong straightaway. The gentle giant had a way with the magnificent creatures since he was a boy. He’d chosen a beautiful bay with a black mane and coat, whilst Chuo had picked the sorrel with a rather haughty attitude. Both had chosen perfect matches.
Kang rode beside Mulan, his face set in stone since their departure. His eyes never stopped scanning the landscape, searching for trouble before they ran into it. Chuo, Zong, and Daocheng rode several paces ahead. In the distance, she could make out smoke wafting towards the sky.
Drawing in a breath, she glanced over at him, steadying herself for the question she’d wanted to ask. “How far involved do you think your father is?”
Kang kept his eyes on the smoke, refusing to look at her. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“We know Jizi’s involved and we can’t discount Ziying, but do we assume he’s is in on it, too?”
“My father didn’t say anything about a seal. It could be he doesn’t know.”
Mulan searched her memory. “Do you remember when we were locked in the weapons’ cabinet? Jizi’s secretary said they were close to finding both things.”
Now Kang glanced a curious look her way. “You think he was referring to the cave and the seal?”
Mulan nodded, trying to keep her voice loud enough to be heard over the din of multitude of hooves over earth. “It must be. If Jizi knows he needs the seal to open the cave, then there’s two possibilities. One, he hasn’t told your father and the emperor has no idea that he can’t get into the cave. Or two, he knows everything and was keeping you in the dark about the entire thing.”
For a moment, Kang didn’t speak, but the twitch in his jaw told her everything. There was no doubt that although her own relationship with her father wasn’t always the best, at least she’d never doubted his intentions. “For as long as I can remember, my father has always loved power. Even my own mother could see that. Maybe that’s why she kept me away from court until I was old enough to see for myself, and not what others wished me to see. Heavens knows he’s capable of making you think the sky is black on the clearest day.” He shook his head, his fingers tightening on the reins. “It’s possible he’s using me.”
A twinge of guilt rippled through Mulan at the flatness in his tone. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed. “I hope he’s not.”
Silence fell between them once more as they concentrated on the unmarked path before them. No rain had touched the earth, making it easier for the horses, particularly over the surprisingly rocky patches hidden beneath the tall grasses. Kang ordered them to ride towards the smoke. After a few hours, the cause become crystal-clear.
An entire village, burned to ash.
Not even a phoenix could return from that, Mulan thought.
Mulan brought her dappled grey horse to a stop several meters away. The rest followed, their gazes captivated by the horror laid before them.
Black soot blanketed the ground like a shroud, stretching from one side of her vision to the other. Whatever buildings once stood there, nothing remained but the bitter stench of smoke and charred bits of wood and twisted metal poking out from the ash. To the right, a line of trees and bushes marked the beginning of a forest. Thankfully, whatever fire had started here hadn’t extended past the village.
Mulan clasped a hand over her mouth before the overwhelming smell forced her to bring up the food she’d consumed earlier. “What happened here?” she asked, mostly to herself.
It was Daocheng’s turn to shake his head. His brown eyes mirrored what everyone else felt. “Nothing good.”
War brought chaos and devastation to a country, no matter how far removed from the battlefield. Had the Rouran penetrated Tuoba territory this far west already?
Yet something in her gut said it wasn’t the worms. This felt different, somehow.
Rustling in the undergrowth whipped everyone’s attention to the right.
“Someone’s there,” Zong shouted. Urging his horse onwards, Zong was already halfway to the edge of the woods, one leg swinging over the saddle, before Mulan could even open her mouth. Jumping to the ground with more grace than she could ever hope to achieve in her lifetime, he sprinted towards the sound.
Dropping her hand from her mouth, Mulan’s heart pounded within her chest.
Kang’s horse came up besides Mulan, the sunlight bouncing off the white star between its ears and flicking its black tail. A shadow of movement tore from behind the bush, racing away from Zong’s rapidly approaching figure. Undeterred, Zong chased after it, disappearing into the depths of the trees.
All eyes remained on the last spot he was seen, waiting for him to return. Sounds of leaves rustling and twigs snapping floated back on the wind. After a few minutes of waiting, Zong reappeared, his hefty fingers closed around the upper arm of a young boy.
“Found our little spy,” Zong told them, his tone faintly amused.
“Let me go!” Somewhere around seven or eight years old, the boy struggled to get away from Zong’s grasp. Ash and dirt streaked across his face, more so over his clothes, which Mulan thought must have once been blue. Dried blood caked his boots and leaves poked out from the dishevelled mess that someone might call his hair. By the looks of him, Mulan mused, he’d been in the woods for some time.
“Hold still, boy,” Zong told him, refusing to do as he asked and let him go. “We just want to know what happened here.”
The boy abruptly quietened down. Suspicion filled his eyes as he stared from Zong to Kang and the others. “You’re not going to kill me?”
Chuo scoffed. “Why would we kill you?”
“The others tried. They chased me into the woods but because I’m so small they couldn’t find me.”
Mulan exchanged curious glances with Kang. “Who were these people?”
The boy hesitated. “Royal soldiers.”
Heavy silence descended upon them as they took in the boy’s words. “Our royal soldiers?”
The boy nodded, his face turning grim. “They came through here two days ago. I recognised the imperial banner.”
Kang swung his leg over and jumped down. Kneeling so that he was eye-to-eye with the young boy, he softened his expression. “Can you tell me what happened he
re?”
“Men came to the village, soldiers with long swords and bows. They demanded to see the chief, my father. They came into our home. I was hiding in the corner, behind a big box, playing hide and seek with him before they arrived. They couldn’t see me.” A tremble ran through his words.
Reaching out, Kang laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What did they say?”
“They were looking for something the emperor wanted. They thought they could find it here.”
“Did they say what it was?”
The boy shook his head. “I couldn’t hear, but my father was angry. He told them they’d never find what they were looking for and to leave. One of the bad men drew out his sword and ... and killed him.” Tears fell from the boy’s eyes, causing an ashy river to cascade down his cheeks. “The man ordered the rest to burn the village and kill everyone.”
“Fuck,” Chuo spat, his face red with rage.
“I’m so sorry, little one,” Kang told the boy, his tone gentle. “How did you escape?”
Wiping his eyes with his dirty sleeve, he glanced up at Kang. “Mama found me. She told me we should hide in the woods. But they saw us. Came after us. Mama died. I hid where they’d never find me. I came back to see if anyone was alive. I heard you, but I didn’t know if you were them. So I hid in those bushes.”
Mulan’s heart ached for the boy. No child should see the death of his parents or the destruction of his home.
Kang squeezed his shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Yun.”
“Yun, you were extremely brave. Your parents would be glad that you’re alive.”
Zong released his hand and smiled down at him. “I’ve got some food in my bags. You must be hungry.” After a brief exchange of glances, he led the small boy away from the group and towards his horse.
Rage crept across the edges of Kang’s features as he turned towards Mulan, Chuo, and Daocheng. “Damn it all to the eighteen hells and back again.”
Chuo’s brow creased into deep lines. “Your brother’s work?”
Kang nodded. “Or my father’s. Or both.”
“Either way, it’s not good. For us, or anyone else.”
No one could disagree with him.
Mulan glanced around. Apart from trees, some craggy hills, and an expanse of grassland to the south, there wasn’t nothing to set this place out. “Did they think they’d find the seal here? We’re not north of Bingzhou.”
“Maybe, or perhaps the location of where it is.” Kang spat. “They didn’t need to kill an entire village in revenge when they didn’t get it.”
Agreeing, Mulan drew in several lungsful of air before speaking. “How far are we from Bingzhou?”
Yun and Zong walked back to them, a half-eaten apple clutched in the boy’s small hand. “Half a day’s ride to the north. But I wouldn’t go there if I was you.”
“How come?”
“Because that’s where the first bad men were heading.”
Ignoring her quickening heartbeat, Mulan frowned at him. “First bad men?”
Yun nodded, taking another bite. “Two days before the soldiers came, four other men came here. They were different from us. From far away. My uncle was a sorcerer, he protected the village before he died. They were like him. But bad.”
Mulan’s gaze locked with Kang’s.
Rouran sorcerers.
The boy swallowed. “They left, but Father ordered everyone to leave. Most refused. Some went to another village.” His eyes dropped to the ground and the tremble returned to his voice. “I wish we’d left. Then everyone would still be alive.”
The ache in Mulan’s chest deepened for Yun. So much death for such a little boy.
Zong glanced up with angry eyes. “They must’ve been after the seal like Jizi. We’ve got to stop them!”
At Zong’s words, Yun’s head shot upwards. His eyes flicked back and forth over them all. “You’re not meant to know about the seal,” he whispered. “Only the chiefs know about it.”
Mulan quickly hurried down from her horse, who bent his head low and nibbled at the grass untouched by ash. “You know about it?”
Yun nodded, his eyes wide as cups. “But you’re not.”
Bending low, she placed her hands around both arms and looked him in the eye. “Yun, listen to me. The bad men are after the seal. We’ve been sent to stop them.”
A long moment of hesitation stretched between them. Mulan’s heart thumped as she waited for Yun to speak. “The bad men are going to Bingzhou, but they won’t find it there. Only a few know where to go.”
Kang came to stand beside Mulan. He placed his own hand on her shoulder. “Where should we go?”
An assessing look came over the boy’s face as he stared straight into Mulan’s eyes. Whatever he found there must have been reassuring. “Ride northeast for two days until you reach the mountains. There’s a path that goes up. Follow it.”
A long sigh flowed between Mulan’s lips. Her hands dropped. “How do you know about the seal, Yun?”
For the first time, a small smile danced over his lips. “I’m the chief’s son, silly!”
Mulan returned the smile. “Of course.” She rose to her feet and turned towards Kang. His brown eyes remained troubled, but the determination shone bright within them. “If the Rouran and Jizi have gone to Bingzhou, that may buy us some time to find the tomb.”
Kang nodded. “We need to ride. And fast.” His eyes shot to the small boy. “But what do we do with you, huh? Is there a village nearby that’s safe?”
Yun pursed his lips and thought for a moment, then nodded. “Bright Cloud Village. It’s a few hours walk from here.”
Zong stepped forward. “A boy his age shouldn’t be wandering alone. I’ll take him and catch you up.”
A fresh wave of worry slashed through Mulan at the thought of him on his own. “We shouldn’t split up,” she told him.
Shaking his head, he fixed her with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you. If I could find you at Black Gate, I can find you anywhere.” Turning to the small boy, he clasped a large hand on his shoulder. “Come, you can show me the way.”
Reluctantly, Mulan held her tongue as Zong led him away and lifted him onto his horse. Zong turned back to give them a wave then pulled himself up behind the boy. A quick flick of the wrist on the reins sent the horse forward, into the dappled shade of the forest until they finally disappeared.
For several minutes, silence hung heavy in the air and it wasn’t only the wind now picking up that sent chills racing down her spine like a hurricane. Only a few short weeks ago, the six of them had never been apart more than a night or two. Now Digan and Huyanti were dead, Zong had left, and it seemed as if the world were being ripped into several pieces, never to be made whole again. Mulan didn’t doubt that Zong could find them, but with the Rouran and Jizi out there, would he be able to?
After all, it was hard to find someone when they were dead.
The emotions swelled within Mulan’s guts and her fists balled at her sides. She couldn’t think like this, not now. Pulling in several ash-lined breaths, Mulan squared her shoulders and glanced at her friends. “We ride northeast.”
Twenty-Eight
The air chilled with the promise of an oncoming storm. Mulan lifted her head up. Already, the dark clouds gathered to the west, inky fingers stretching over the lighter expanse of blue.
Beneath, the sides of the mountains loomed menacing over their heads. Scraggly patches of small twisted trees clung to the precarious rockface, made humble by the onslaught of the wind. All around them, signs of life remained few and far between. A vast span of soil surrounded them in all directions, a few patches of grass stretched thin, exposing the ground beneath. It seemed desolate, and almost bare of life, but for Mulan, it felt oddly comforting, like a worn-out cloak one couldn’t bare to part with.
None of them had seen a village since leaving the burnt-out shell of Yun’s former home, ensuring they kept well away
from Bingzhou or any other places either the Rouran or Jizi may have stopped at. It had taken three days of hard riding, but finally they’d made it.
“Are you sure this is it?” Chuo called, glancing around, his face suggesting that they were in the wrong place.
Kang turned his horse around and trotted over to where he stood. Wiping his sleeve over his brow, he nodded. “I’m sure.”
The mountains stretched from east to west for miles; it seemed impossible to judge just how much territory they covered. Yun had told them to travel to the mountains north of Bingzhou but failed to give them an exact location.
The expression over Daocheng’s face seemed to mirror her own concerns. Brushing back the thin braids from his face, scepticism filled his eyes. “I can’t see anything here.”
Sliding off the back of his horse and jumping to the ground, Kang’s eyes slid upwards. “Oh, there’s something here, alright. I can feel it.”
Mulan exchanged curious glances with her friends as he led his horse forward. The only sounds came from their footsteps, merging with the sigh of the wind. With his left hand on the reins, and the other outstretched, brushing over the cold surface of the mountain, Kang slowly walked east, away from the group.
Now several hundred yards from them, Chuo heaved a reluctant sigh and nudged his horse in their direction. One by one, they trotted after him silently.
For several minutes, Kang just walked, ignoring the confused glances they hurtled at his back. Then suddenly he stopped. “This way!” he called, running in the direction he was facing.
Mulan, Chuo, and Daocheng raced after him. A minute later, they stopped.
Standing at least seven feet tall stood a long wooden pole thrust into the ground. Black ribbons snaked around it, their ends fluttering in the breeze. From where she sat on her horse, Mulan could see some kind of design had been carved into the pole but couldn’t make out what they were. But no one could mistake what sat on top; a human skull, bleached white by time and the elements. A low thrum of energy vibrated from it. “What is that?” she whispered.
Honour, She Obeys Page 30