Honour, She Obeys

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Honour, She Obeys Page 40

by L. S. Slayford


  Butterflies danced within Mulan’s belly as they stepped through the stone entryway and into a chamber.

  Dozens of torches burned with a soft golden gleam and emitted no smoke, enveloping the room in light. The walls stretched on for meters, adorned with vivid depictions coloured with pigments that could have been painted only yesterday. But as Mulan gazed around in wonder and awe, she knew in her gut they were at least a thousand years old.

  Slowly, she stepped around the room, staring at the paintings as the air echoed with their footsteps. It seemed to be a reoccurring pattern; people emerging from caves, dressed in various styles of clothing. One man stood tall, wearing long flowing robes of black and silver; another wore leopard skin draped over his shoulders and hips; others in simple tunics and trousers in shimmering hues of reds and oranges. Elaborate designs in a kaleidoscope of colours adorned the figures of more. Mulan counted at least eighteen individuals on one wall alone. The combinations seemed endless and strangely familiar.

  Each of the caves featured a tunnel that snaked through the mountain, leading towards a large circular stone that blocked what appeared to be a doorway at the far end of the chamber.

  Gingerly, Mulan ran her fingers over one of the figures. “What is this?” she asked, her voice carrying around the room.

  “I think this is the story of how humans came to be,” Kang replied, his tone holding an undercurrent of uncertainty. “There’s an ancient legend my teacher once told me. The Yellow Emperor, Huang Di, took four consorts and had twenty-five sons. He sent them into the world, twelve of them with their own family names. Over time, they established villages, ruling over them.” He stepped closer to a particular figure with long hair flowing past his shoulders and a stern expression set on his face. “What if the legend is true?”

  Mulan frowned at his words. “But I thought the first people came from caves, not from the Yellow Emperor.”

  Kang turned to face her, his eyes round. “Unwind the layers and layers of retellings and embellishments and you’ll inevitably find a grain of truth at the heart of them. We know that the first people from each different tribe emerged from what we call ancestral caves. After the first generations died, no doubt the stories faded or adjusted to protect themselves. What if the legend of the Yellow Emperor’s sons were a way of explaining the truth of their origins?”

  Staring at the paintings, confusion wrapped around Mulan’s mind as one chaotic thought crashed against another.

  Something in his words resonated with her. She knew from her own studies that historical fact typically morphed into legend and folklore within a few generations. How much was what they believed was real, and how much just a pretty picture designed to draw their eyes away from the truth?

  “Let’s see what’s behind that door.”

  Kang’s words snapped her from her thoughts. Placing the burning torch on the ground, they positioned themselves at one end and pushed as hard as they could. It took several minutes before the smooth stone started to roll, and several more to push it completely out of the way.

  Panting heavily, her palms raw, Mulan stared into another chamber.

  Circular and the walls smooth as the finest porcelain, vivid paintings stretched throughout, the colours still as bright as the day they were first painted. To her right were incredible life-sized pictures of Nuwa and Fuxi, the mother goddess and her brother-husband. Their upper bodies were human, their faces gentle and kind with their hair pulled tight at the tops of their heads and their hands clasped in each other’s. Below their waists they possessed snake-like bodies, entwined so they appeared as one.

  The next image showed the gods with lumps of clay that slowly took the form of men. Nuwa draped clothes over their shoulders, whilst Fuxi stood with them in front of a cave. Clouds danced around their feet, and birds flew over the tops of their heads. To Mulan’s untrained eye, it appeared as if they stood on the top of a lofty mountain.

  Her eyes continued to the next image. Above the top of the circular entranceway, a human male stood, his back towards them as he stared into the mouth of a dark cave alone. A shiver snaked down Mulan’s spine. How frightened could this person be, to stare into the abyss of the unknown after only knowing the gentle touch of the gods?

  After the lone figure came the cave itself, a seal placed over its mouth, barring any return through it. There seemed an urgency to the strokes, as if the fingers of the artist, human or divine, deliberately tried to convey there would be no return. Mulan frowned as her eyes continued to sweep to the final image.

  A mountain stood in flames with Fuxi and Nuwa on the far side, their faces blurred as they faced the lone figure. A shimmering light seemed to radiate from him, his face set in a roar. Unease prickled over Mulan’s skin as she stared at the image.

  Situated between the centre of the first and final depiction, stood colossal stone doors similar to the ones found at the first Tuoba’s tomb. Each stood the height of at least fifteen men, and wide as ten. Elaborate carvings of dragons and phoenixes, horses and bears, leopards and wolves, stretched over its thick heavy surface. In the centre etched near where the two doors met were characters: return only when necessary. Mulan failed to see any handles, but beneath the last character lay a small indentation in the shape of a circle.

  The exact shape and size as the seal.

  In the centre of the room lay a small sunken pool. The contents were nearly gone, the silvery waters stood a few inches deep, but glowed with a supernatural lustre. Energy flowed gently on the air. Mulan glanced around, taking it all in. “It’s incredible,” she whispered, unable to mask the awe in her voice.

  Kang nodded, his eyes flicking from one picture to the next. “It really is,” he replied. Slowly, he moved around the chamber. “Can you see what’s happening? Nuwa and Fuxi create a human and send them through a cave to establish a new tribe.” He pointed to the image of the seal over the opening. “Then they close it so they don’t find their way back.”

  Mulan indicated to the final depiction, her brow creased. “And that one?”

  “What happens when they do return.” Taking her arm, he led her towards the stone doors that dominated the chamber, and tapped the characters inscribed on it. “Return only when necessary.” Facing her, his eyes glittered with amazement. “The tunnels are only meant to be one-way, but in times of emergency -”

  “Like the annihilation of your people,” Mulan interjected.

  “You can return,” Kang finished. His eyes rose up, glancing at the figure roaring towards the gods. “And gain the powers that could save your people.”

  Mulan tasted her pulse in her throat as her eyes danced around the room. “All those tunnels they walked out of, one for each person. How many do you suppose there are?”

  Kang shook his head. “No idea. How many tribes has history recorded? Han, Jin, Tuoba, Rouran, Khitan, Jie, Qiang, Xiongnu, Xianbei, Di. All have claimed their own unique beginnings. So many people emerge only to disappear. More may have lost their names to the black winds of time.”

  A sense of melancholy stretched over her stomach with his words. What had Chuo said back at Kang’s home? Civilizations rise and fall, yes, but if they weren’t recorded orally or within books, then it was as if they never existed.

  Recalling the images in the other chamber, Mulan wondered if some of the depictions showed the founders of tribes and civilizations no one had bothered to record.

  Or whose ancestral caves had been destroyed.

  I will not allow that to happen to my people, Mulan swore to herself. She turned to face Kang, her face set in determined lines. “We need to destroy the seal now.”

  Nodding, they returned to the stone doors. Brushing away her hair, Mulan untied the piece of leather that held the seal around her neck and unthreaded it. The magic contained within pulsed in her hand. It knew it had returned home.

  Her hand hovered over the indentation where the seal needed to go but something kept her from closing those few inches separating th
em.

  Jizi’s and the emperor’s ambitions knew no bounds, but were they bad enough to warrant the destruction of the seal? Without it, the Tuoba remained safe from Kang’s family, but that didn’t mean there weren’t worse things out there. Liu Song forces marched north, their numbers swelled enough to possibly destroy them. Monsters lived in the shadows, waiting for their chance to strike. Would there be a time when the kingdom would need the power of the gods to save themselves?

  “Mulan?” Kang’s soft voice turned her head in his direction. “What’s wrong?”

  Inhaling deeply, she tried to force down the sense of apprehension bubbling in her veins. “Are we sure this is the right thing to do? Once done, it can’t be undone.”

  Silence stretched between them for a long moment before Kang placed his hands around her face and gently kissed her forehead. “You know what you have to do.”

  Sighing, Mulan nodded and faced the stone doors once again. Unlike the ones in the tomb, they didn’t shimmer, but there magic still ran deep within them. She could feel it, just as she could with the seal now clenched in her fist.

  It had to be done, there was no denying it. Emperor Taiwu and his power-hungry sons couldn’t possess the power that lay beyond the cave, all the way to the land of the gods themselves. Mulan recalled her grandmother’s stories; according to legend, Nuwa and Fuxi lived at the top of Mount Kunlun, but no one knew exactly where it was located. Some claimed it was in the northwest, others to the south, or far to the west in the lands bathed in snow and ice for much of the year. The Jade Palace of the Yellow Emperor was also said to be there, the magnificent and majestic home of the gods. If they opened the doors, would it lead them to its doorstep?

  Not that they’d find out. Mulan understood the importance of their goal. The seal had to be destroyed. To protect the people from its own rulers, they had to take control of the kingdom’s destiny themselves.

  Mulan stretched out her clenched fist, reason and uncertainty warring within her mind.

  All she had to do was set it in the right place and strike it with her sword. Simple.

  You can do this, she told herself.

  A noise from somewhere in the distance froze her hand. Sucking in a deep breath, Mulan shared an uneasy look with Kang as the noise grew louder.

  She recognised those sounds.

  Footsteps.

  They were no longer alone.

  Thirty-Six

  Kang’s sword materialised within his hand as men wearing the familiar leather armour and helmets of the Imperial Army over black clothing poured from the doorway. One. Two. Three. A dozen more.

  Clenching her fingers around the seal, Mulan withdrew the jian, her heart pounding in her chest as they charged.

  Shouts and the din of weapons reverberated around the chamber. Mulan kicked into reflex, her jian slicing through the air, slamming against steel. Her eyes filled with silver as one sword after the other flashed in front of her face, determined to take her head off.

  Throwing away any sense of caution, she spun her blade faster than ever as three soldiers descended upon her. Gritting her teeth, she kicked out, her booted foot striking a knee. She heard it give a deep, low pop followed by a squeal of pain. Not bothering to look, she whipped her blade around, blocking the path of another just inches from her nose. Her foot struck backwards, sending him flying through the air.

  From the corner of her eye, Mulan caught a glimpse of Kang’s face behind a sea of soldiers, his blade dashing in and out of her vision. They encircled him like a flock of vultures, hungry to take their pound of flesh.

  Not today, arseholes.

  In a fluid motion, Mulan ducked beneath one arm and sliced her blade across the black of one man’s neck. Blood stained the air, coating it with its metallic taste. A scream of pain echoed through her ears, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Jumping high, she slammed her foot against his upper back, sending him crashing into the wall as she spun several times over the tops of their heads. The tip of the blade sliced through flesh, wringing cries from mouths, and more blood infused the air with its coppery scent.

  Crashing to the ground, Mulan only had a second to roll to the right and jump to her feet before another sword flashed dangerously in front of her eyes. Spinning around, a third arced down.

  A hiss erupted from her mouth as it sliced through her cheek. Warm liquid trickled slowly down her face.

  Anger merged with determination. Tightening her grip on the hilt, the edges of the jade seal digging into her palm, Mulan hurried forward. She caught the glint of a bloody sword hurtling through the air and swung. The weapon sailed to the right, bouncing off the stone walls with an ear-ringing ping, and fell to the floor. A second later, she felt her jian slice through leather and into soft flesh beneath. The soldier’s body doubled around it, as if unable to do anything other than embrace its own demise. Freeing him with a sharp kick, he slumped to the ground.

  A flicker of motion from the corner of her eye whipped Mulan’s head around. Dropping to her knees and twisting the blade behind her, she plunged it into the vulnerable flesh below the guard’s belly. Freezing, his face became a mask of horror and agony as Mulan yanked the jian free with a sharp, wet movement. Mulan heard the thud of his body hitting the ground through the hammering of her pulse in her ears.

  Drops of scarlet fell through the air in a grisly rainbow as she twisted over them once more, her blade striking out as others tried to cut her down. Dodging the blows, she pivoted and spun on her feet.

  White-hot pain shot down her upper arm, wringing a startled cry from her lips. Twisting her head, she watched as a bloodied sword came free of her flesh, ready to carve its way through her once again.

  Mulan stumbled backwards, drops of blood from her cheek falling onto her shoulder and mingling with the crimson liquid now oozing from the wound.

  From somewhere behind she heard Kang’s yell. Ducking beneath the sword aiming for her head, her eyes flicked up to find a sword pinning Kang to the wall behind him, his features twisted in rage and pain. Gritting her teeth against the agony of her arm, Mulan swung her jian in long, powerful strokes, pushing back the onslaught of weapons in order to reach him.

  “Shift!” she screamed, catching a blur of leather and black clothes across her vision. The crunch of flesh on stone rang through the chamber over the cries.

  “I can’t!” Kang shouted back, now pulling the blade from his shoulder with a sickening squelch and kicking one man in the chest. “It’s too small in here.”

  “Damn it.” Lungs burning, limbs exhausted, and pain rippling through her with the slightest movement, Mulan fought on through it all. She had to, no other choice remained. If they died, the world as they knew it would plunge into darkness and chaos.

  So let them come, she told herself as her blade carved a valley through one man’s face, his blood soaking the floor. While there’s life and honour flowing through my veins, I won’t let that happen.

  Kang’s shouts tore her head around. Horror flashed through her blood like a tidal wave. A silver net wrapped around Kang’s form as four guards struggled to bring him to the ground. His arms struggled against the silver web, but it was little use.

  A throbbing agony shot through Mulan’s shoulder as the pummel of a sword slammed into her, knocking her own weapon out of her grasp, along with the seal. She stumbled to her knees, the sound of the jian hitting the ground echoing through the hiss of pain bursting out of her mouth. A hard foot to her lower kick sent her skidding over the smooth rock floor. Sucking in a ragged breath, Mulan’s eyes filled with the glint of jade.

  The seal.

  It lay only a few centimetres from her nose. Grinding her teeth through the pain, she reached out with a trembling hand and clutched it to her chest within her left wrist.

  Two strong hands yanked her to her feet. Exhaustion lined every inch of her body. It took all the strength she possessed to lift her head to see a blade now only inches from between her eyes.

 
; To the right, Kang lay sprawled beneath the confines of the silver net, trapped and helpless. Blood coated his upper body like a second skin, his face etched with pain and agony.

  Footsteps forced their heads around.

  “You do give a good fight, Kang. I’ll give you that.”

  A growl resonated through the air. “Ziying, I knew you’d be in on this.”

  The owner of the voice stepped through the circular doorway. Long black hair tied with intricate leather cords revealed a high brow and small deep-set eyes housing a well of arrogance. A cruel thin mouth stretched out into a mocking grin. Peeking out from behind expensive, heavy leather armour were dark blue clothes, the trousers tucked into boots that reached just below his knees. He stood tall but still several inches smaller than Kang. Strapped to his waist hung a sword sheathed within an elaborately decorated scabbard. “I’m surprised you managed to find out about what we were up to. I mean, you aren’t the smartest in the family.” The sneer in his tone couldn’t be mistaken.

  “Neither are you,” Kang replied, his eyes burning with hatred as he stared at his younger brother. “If you were, you wouldn’t have joined Jizi in this foolish mission.”

  Mulan watched Ziying step further into the chamber. “Not just Jizi,” he said.

  Behind him, a familiar figure emerged.

  Kang’s eyes widened. “Yang.”

  Slowly, the youngest brother stepped beside Ziying. “My apologies, but yes, it is I. Jizi is on his way though. I’m sure he’ll love seeing you again.”

  Disbelief coursed through Mulan’s veins, followed by a mental slap. Of course Yang would be part of this. Kang had told her after their meeting at the palace that his younger brother was the smartest of them all.

  “Why?”

  “I sent a messenger bird, of course.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Ziying continued to smirk. “Father’s search for the powers of the ancestral cave reached our ears many years ago, so we went to him and offered our help. Yang’s intelligence meant he was a natural asset. Jizi and I have ears in even the darkest corners of the land. Together, it seemed inevitable that we’d find it. We did discuss bringing you into the fold initially, but we knew your precious sense of honour would get in our way.”

 

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