“A little risky, yes, but what venture on this scale isn’t risky? The plan was an elegant one. Bai hadn’t traveled so far north before, and without the team, he would have been a lone man riding toward the Wall. Much better that he was sent as part of the princeling’s own group. It should have been more convenient and caused less scrutiny.”
“But that was not the result.”
“All plans must be adjusted from time to time. I made sure to lay misleading trails before I killed Bai and left his body somewhere difficult to find. The princeling’s man must even now be searching for him. There is no trace to lead to me or my master.
“So now the plan can and must proceed forward. My master asks that you will please mount an attack far from here the day after the next lighting of the beacon.”
The interpreter confers for a longer time with his master before saying, “The beacon should have already been lit again. We do not have the grain stores necessary to muster men and let them sit.”
“Do you wish to throw these men full-on at the defenses, then?” asks Captain Helou. “South of the Wall there has been a realm-wide muster of men. Their granaries are vast and their generals battle-tested and ready. Remember, it is precisely because you aren’t sure of victory in a long, drawn-out war that we are proceeding by guile and subterfuge.”
He sounds so forcefully reasonable that after the interpreter finishes translating, there is a silence. This time, no one fidgets or makes any sounds.
“What request do you make of us, then?”
“The same,” says Captain Helou. “Do your best to make the Northern court think that the most overwhelming attacks will come near the far ends of the Wall. Then wait for the forces now stationed outside the capital to be deployed east and west.”
“How long until that happens? We have brought seven days of rations to this muster. They could be stretched out to ten days and supplemented with hunting. But after that …”
“In the next valley, you have a fair number of livestock animals. Eat them if you need to. Eat some of your horses if you must. My master will not be able to push too boldly for the central commandery troops to depart. So you must make the situation appear urgent and force the Northern court’s hand.”
“And how do we do that?”
“The beacons will be lit one after another. And each time one is lit, you mount an attack toward the extremities of the Wall.”
“How will you light them so easily again? Surely they will have doubled, if not quadrupled, the guards on the towers.”
“There is no need for us to take over any beacon tower—I wish we’d realized this sooner. The towers are ten li apart. The guards at the next tower cannot tell whether a fire is lit on the beacon itself or somewhere nearby. And by the time the matter has been investigated, it will be too late.”
“But the signal won’t travel all the way to the ends of the Wall. How do we know when to attack?”
“It almost doesn’t matter. News will take time to get back to the capital. They will not know whether the timing of the beacons coincides exactly with the attacks. They will only know that we distract them with fire and smoke while real clashes happen elsewhere. At some point they will stop paying attention to the beacons—and the section of the Wall near the capital—and rush to beleaguered forts farther away, especially if you make some real progress there.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. This is exactly what we feared the Rouran would do.
“When the forces of the central commandery leave the capital, we will send our signal for you to ride south. And Heaven willing, the Rouran heroes will take the capital and replace the current emperor with minimum fuss.”
Several Rouran men speak at once. The rumbly voice, which must belong to Yucheng Khan, hushes them and says something.
“It’s late,” declares the interpreter. “We will show the captain to his quarters and give him good wine, good meat, and other such rewards as we are capable of providing in this camp.”
Captain Helou offers his profound gratitude and undying loyalty.
When Captain Helou is escorted out, the princeling gives me a slight push. I understand: He needs to stay and listen to what the Rouran generals might discuss; at the same time, it will be helpful to know Captain Helou’s whereabouts, just in case.
My heart thudding in my ears, my legs feeling like overcooked noodles, I trail behind Captain Helou and a quartet of accompanying guards to a tent almost a li from the one he just left. The guards take up positions outside. I watch for some time from the shadows, then retrace my steps back to the princeling’s location.
He is nowhere to be seen.
My mind turns blank, and a thousand blood-curdling fears unleash at once. He has been captured. They are waiting for me. I will be captured any moment now. I will not leave this encampment alive. Worse, when they discover that I am a woman—
I rein my thoughts to a hard stop.
I have not been caught yet. And I’ve heard no commotion to indicate that the princeling is in any trouble. I’ve been gone for a while. It’s quite possible the Rouran leaders have dispersed—in fact, I can tell they have: The yurt they were gathered in is now silent and dark. It would have been prudent for the princeling to move away a bit, to avoid being seen by those leaving.
Think, Hua Mulan.
Before he hid himself, he would have thought how best for us to find each other again, in the dark, in enemy territory. If he can see me, he would come to me. What if he can’t see me and instead wants me to go to him? How would he accomplish that? Of course, he knows my hearing is more sensitive than that of the typical man or woman. I check to make sure no patrols are nearby, then put my ear down to the ground. It does not take me long to discern a soft double tap that repeats on a regular basis.
The sound leads me three rings of yurts to the south. And there he is, safe and sound.
We grip each other’s hands tightly, and then we tiptoe away. I guide him near where Captain Helou is staying. We listen for a while, but there isn’t much to hear: Captain Helou, under guard, is soundly asleep.
This part of the valley is less utilized. Captain Helou’s yurt is in the next-to-last ring. Beyond, empty space. We head toward it. I’m flabbergasted at what we’ve learned and giddily relieved that tonight’s mission is finished. No one has seen us and we are on the verge of slipping away.
Then I hear footsteps. Light, and closing in fast.
Only a martial artist can move with such quiet speed.
Patrols too are converging in our direction, their footsteps loud as drumbeats. Four men to a group, with two groups about equidistant from us. There is no chance that I can hit all eight guards at once with my hidden weapons. If I try to pick them off one by one, the remaining guards will raise the alarm. And if we try to hide from the patrols, the person who walks with dangerous lightness will catch us.
Is it Captain Helou? Are we going to meet our end here after all?
The softer steps stop. The princeling and I exchange a look, even though I can scarcely make out his features. And we too stop and conceal ourselves behind a mound of earth that has been dug up.
In my right hand I hold three small projectiles. In my left hand is … the princeling’s hand. Our hands do not shake, but my heart beats so furiously it almost drowns out the patrols’ approach.
The two groups salute as they pass each other. And then they recede into the night, continuing their circuit around the encampment, moving farther and farther away.
We run. The light footsteps follow. The valley tapers toward its southern end. We are not far from the slopes. If we can scramble up—
No, our pursuer will reach us before then. Where did the Rouran get such a remarkable martial artist? Even my footfall has become heavier in my rush, but this person’s steps remain featherlight and barely audible.
We don’t want a fight. We are not so far from the outermost ring of yurts—or the patrols—that combat wouldn’t get noticed. But what c
an we possibly do to be left alone?
The princeling yanks me to a stop. The loss of momentum is so abrupt I almost fall against him. I stop myself just in time, but he bands his arms about me in an embrace.
My mouth drops open.
“Pretend!” he whispers in my ear.
The touch of his lips on my skin—lightning zigzags through me.
Vaguely I understand that he wants us to pass for a pair of randy Rouran fighters in search of a little privacy. But I only stand like a stone statue. He holds me tighter, one hand on the small of my back, the other behind my head. Is he concerned I won’t respond and he’ll need to maintain the pretense all by himself?
I throw my arms around his neck and whisper, “Like this?”
A tremor propels through him. When his hand comes up to my face, his touch scorches. My fingers close over his. But I don’t know whether I mean to push his hand away or press it more firmly against my cheek.
His breaths turn ragged. Mine as well. The night pulses with the air we exhale, the darkness heavy yet strangely soft.
“Your Highness, Hua xiong-di,” comes the whisper of another. “You don’t need to pretend anything. It’s just me.”
The princeling and I still. He seems as stunned as I am. We break apart and turn to face the man.
“Master Yu, why are you here?”
The princeling’s low voice is reserved, almost cold. A gust blows, and all the heat from a moment ago disappears without a trace. I shiver: He suspects Yu of having also committed treason.
Yu drops to one knee, his response just as soft. “I followed Captain Helou here after he killed Bai.”
“How were you able to do so without being discovered?”
“For most of the way, I trailed him at a distance. I might not have made it into the valley if he hadn’t stopped to wait for nightfall. He didn’t want to be seen entering.”
The princeling does not speak. I glance from one man to the other and back again, my neck so tense I can barely move my head.
“Your Highness assigned me to find out the identity of Bai’s true master, the traitor at court,” Yu continues. “That task I have not yet accomplished and have every intention of completing. If Your Highness is satisfied with this interim report, I will offer wishes for your good health and the rations I took from the Rouran stores, and return to watching Captain Helou.”
The princeling remains silent for some more time. “Master Yu, please come with us.”
We make our way warily, aware that a single misstep could alert the encampment to our presence. Still, as I place my feet with care, all my senses alert, the events of the night dart through my head like a pack of unruly children. Captain Helou. Yu. The Rouran khan. The imminent attack against the capital.
But I also reflect on something that has significance only to me: I finally know the princeling’s name. Captain Helou called him Tuoba Kai. Yuan Kai, if the ban should come to pass. Kai means victorious—not a bad name for these circumstances.
The moon has risen. I can see him ahead, a dark, agile shape. Kai, I say silently. Warmth rises to my cheeks. Other than Murong, Dabao, and a few young cousins on my mother’s side, I’ve never called any men by their given names. But how else am I to think of the man who has held my hand and embraced me? Whose hand I have held and whom I have embraced in turn?
After such close, sustained contact, it would be impossible for him not to realize I am a woman. Since he betrayed no sign of shock, or even of surprise, he must have known for a while. I think back to our first and only night alone together, of him standing by the foot of my cot, gazing down at me. My heart races as if I’ve been running at a full sprint.
We reach the spot where Kai and I waited earlier and squeeze through the narrow passage to the ravine, which, at its very top, has a bit of a smooth, flat ledge.
“Master Yu, you’ve had a long journey. Please take some rest,” says Kai. “Hua xiong-di, I’d like to speak with you. Come with me.”
Heat careens through me. Surely …
No, he won’t embrace me again. Not with Yu around. And not even if we were alone.
The moonlight does not make it much less treacherous to tread near the top of the ravine, and we trudge on for what seems an unnecessarily long time. I want to ask him outright when and how he learned that I am a woman, but this isn’t the right moment. Not when the Rouran are on the verge of sacking the capital.
At last he says, his voice tight, “Now we should be out of Master Yu’s hearing.”
I put my hands on my elbows, bracing myself. “Are you about to tell me that you don’t trust him?”
“I don’t.”
“But your father trusts him enough to give you into his care. He’s the one who was supposed to look after you outside the Wall, isn’t he?”
“At this point, I don’t trust my father.”
I shudder. “What?”
“After you left to see where Captain Helou would be staying the night, the Rouran khan and his generals spoke for some time. Several times they mentioned Captain Helou’s master. Not by name, unfortunately, but I was able to confirm that he is a Xianbei nobleman.”
“There must be a whole pack of Xianbei noblemen in the capital.”
“But my father is the one in charge of the central commandery. He is also the one who sent both Bai and Captain Helou along with us.”
“But he’s your father.”
“Most Xianbei noblemen in the capital are fathers. Being a father doesn’t mean a man won’t betray his country.”
What I meant was How could you suspect your own father? But I should know, shouldn’t I, that sometimes one shouldn’t trust one’s father too much?
I pull my cape tighter around me. “What did the Rouran generals say about this nobleman?”
“I’m not as well versed as Tuxi xiong in languages beyond the Wall. They were speaking fast, and often several voices at once. I don’t know exactly what they said. I can only guess that when the nobleman was mentioned, they were debating how much they should trust him.”
“What did they decide?”
“Yucheng Khan wished to move forward with the plan, and the others fell in line.”
Until this moment I didn’t realize how much I want everything to go away. If Yucheng Khan were to doubt the ripeness of the moment, if he came to see that he doesn’t want the lands south of the Wall as much as he’d thought he did, if the opposition of his generals somehow outweighed his ambition and impatience …
But no. And now we hurtle like Dayuan horses toward a dark and ominous future.
The sounds of agitated breaths echo in the air. They are mine. I force myself to calm down. “So Captain Helou will leave in the morning to arrange for the beacons?”
“Most likely. And that means we have limited time before the central commandery forces are sent away from the capital.”
“If they are sent.”
“They will be sent. If the beacons repeatedly turn out to be ruses, and if pressure is continually applied, the court will become anxious, as anyone would under the circumstances. Those advocating for action will prevail over those counseling patience.”
And Captain Helou, of course, never delivered Kai’s message to his father. The royal duke, on the movement of whose armies the fate of the realm rests, is now as much in the dark as anyone else with regard to the intentions of the Rouran.
I feel dizzy. “What do we do, then?”
He rubs a hand across his forehead. “That’s what paralyzes me. I can’t trust anyone else, yet the two of us alone cannot hold back the tide.”
He said something similar before. In matters having to do with the survival of the state, I trust you completely.
Not that he isn’t correct, but … “Why do you trust me?”
“Because your father kept your attention focused squarely on the duel and your training. You are involved in this war only because of the conscription, not because you have any connection to either the Rouran or the
imperial court. You are no one to the players of this game. Even better, they are nothing and no one to you.
“And that’s something I cannot say about anyone else here. Yu is loyal to my father—if my father is not loyal to the country, then there is no telling where Yu’s loyalty lies. Kedan worships Captain Helou, and not just as a friend, if you understand what I mean.”
I do understand and I think he is correct about Kedan. “But Captain Helou—I don’t believe he feels the same way.” He doesn’t mind Kedan’s friendship and adoration, but he doesn’t return it in equal or even half measure.
“It doesn’t matter what he feels toward Kedan. We already know where his loyalty lies. It’s Kedan’s we don’t know about. Does he love Captain Helou enough to betray his country?”
“Does Kedan even know about all this?”
“I don’t know. Then again, I didn’t suspect either Bai or Captain Helou. I can’t make the same mistake again.”
He half turns so that he stands with his profile to me. Moonlight frosts the sharp contours of his face. But I don’t need to see his features to feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable fear that one misstep can doom everything.
Whereas I feel as if I’m sleepwalking. I’m afraid, yes, but there is a part of me that can’t yet accept that I, a recent exile from the South, am suddenly and inextricably caught up in the fate of the North—one of the central players in this enormous, pivotal game.
“All right, so we watch Kedan because of his devotion to Captain Helou,” I say. “But why can’t we trust Tuxi? Surely, he must be as much of a nobody to the Rouran as I am.”
Kai pinches the space between his brows. “You know how I told you that I was terrified of you? Apparently I didn’t know what terrified means. Now I’m truly terrified of this situation. And about you, I feel merely apprehensive.”
I almost smile. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m going to tell you something. And you will swear to Heaven above that you will not reveal a word of it to anyone, or we will have our duel right here and I will fight to my last breath.”
The Magnolia Sword Page 17