“And so easily too.” The traitor chuckles. “A forged letter from his brother, and he was happy to welcome a snake into his household. As for Captain Helou here, I needed only to set him in the royal duke’s path.”
Lord Sang has a golden, honeyed voice. Even speaking treason, he sounds mellifluous. I can imagine how agreeable it must be to listen to him when he aims to please.
“Have you always been the sort of man who mocks others for their virtues and boasts of his own malice?” The emperor stares at him. “Never mind that. What do you get out of this, Lord Sang?”
“Don’t be so bitter, Your Imperial Majesty,” says Lord Sang. “Dynasties rise and fall. Many have risen and fallen in the past two hundred years—yours has already lasted longer than most. As for me, my daughter will marry Yucheng Khan’s heir, and my grandson will sit on the throne of the North. And perhaps, if he is capable enough, the throne of a China once again united.”
The emperor gives a dry, short laugh. “For fifteen years I have honored and promoted you—while you harbored the heart of a ravening wolf.”
Lord Sang oozes smugness. “Your Imperial Majesty cannot know everything under the sun, no matter how your lackeys flatter you otherwise.”
“Have you come to kill me, then?” asks the emperor, before taking another sip of his wine.
My innards twist. We are moments away from drawing swords. My eyes flick around the room, taking in where everyone and everything is.
“No, sire,” answers Lord Sang. “We have come to help you relocate. Have you not said, more times than I can count, that the responsibilities of the Son of Heaven are myriad and heavy, and you long for the pastoral life of your ancestors? Well, the Rouran are eager to welcome you in the open simplicity of their grasslands, where you can look after sheep and horses to your heart’s content.”
The emperor’s knuckles are white around the wine bowl. “And my family?”
“They will go with you, of course, provided they first swear allegiance to Yucheng Khan and renounce any claim to the throne of the North.”
“You have been thorough in your machinations.”
“I have been in your service many years, sire. That has given me time to think. But now it’s time to act.” He turns to Anake. “Bind the emperor. The crown prince too. And anyone else in these rooms.”
A large figure leaps out from behind a painted wood screen, sword drawn. “No one will dishonor my father or my brother, not while I still live.”
Tuxi!
Lord Sang’s brow furrows, as if he is having trouble placing Tuxi. “Ah, Prince Anzhong of Luoyang. I heard you returned today from your travels. I didn’t know you had chosen to become involved in matters of state.”
“When the survival of the state is at stake, every man must do his duty. That isn’t something you would understand, Lord Sang.”
Lord Sang laughs, not at all chastened. “Your Royal Highness, you are a budding historian. How do you not grasp that the founder of every dynasty is a usurper? Power confers all the legitimacy and respectability anyone needs.”
“Not on you. You will never have any power,” says another man, stepping out from an inner room.
I have no idea who he is, but Lord Sang turns to the emperor and says, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, Emperor, that your personal bodyguard is utterly useless as a martial artist. Devotion is a fine attribute, but devotion in the absence of skills is worth nothing.”
On the tail end of those words, he rips off his jeweled chain and throws it at the bodyguard. The chain hits the bodyguard on the forehead. The next moment a dagger from Anake buries itself in the bodyguard’s chest. He collapses.
Three small metal spheres leave my hand, one each for Anake, Lord Sang, and Captain Helou. Several things happen at once. Tuxi rushes forward with his sword. Anake leaps to meet him, and my hidden weapon misses him by a hairsbreadth. The fighter standing immediately behind Lord Sang draws his broadsword, and the sphere intended for Lord Sang glances off the blade with a sharp clang. But the third one hits Captain Helou squarely on the side of the temple, and he goes down with a thump.
“Hua xiong-di!” shouts Tuxi. “I knew you’d come!”
The two Rouran fighters in front of me turn around, their faces twisting from shock to anger to a furious bloodlust. Suddenly I don’t feel my arms or legs. I don’t feel the floor beneath me or the sheathed sword in my left hand. All I feel is a fear so enormous that I will suffocate if I don’t scream.
So I scream, and draw my sword.
Heart Sea skewers one Rouran before he can lift his own weapon in defense. His companion raises a huge battle-axe, but Kai blocks it for me. The man impaled on Heart Sea is still standing, gurgling and staring. Behind him, two Rouran fighters launch themselves toward me. I put my foot against the man’s abdomen and kick hard. He falls and I yank Heart Sea free just in time to parry two broadswords.
Even as I do so, I spin to one side of the men—my back was to the wall and I didn’t want to be pinned in place. Another Rouran comes at me. I hook the toe of my boot under a nearby low table and send it flying in his direction. It splinters against his battle-axe.
Not counting the emperor’s unfortunate bodyguard, Lord Sang’s side had ten men to our four. Now, with one Rouran run through by Heart Sea and Captain Helou out of commission, they are down to eight. And the more men Kai and I can draw to us, the easier it will be for Tuxi to defend his father.
Kai is now across the room, close to the door, fighting two Rouran. The emperor and Lord Sang are locked in combat near the head of the room. And Tuxi has taken on Anake and another Rouran.
Tuxi is a decent fighter, but Anake is both bigger and better. In one glance I can tell that Tuxi is behind in his countermoves. After kicking the other fighter aside, he barely catches Anake’s broadsword before it meets his shoulder.
A battle-axe comes my way. I leap backward. It comes again. I sidestep and it embeds itself in the pillar behind me. I round the pillar and run Heart Sea through the Rouran with the stuck axe.
Kai fells one of his attackers. Six against four.
I slash at the two Rouran fighters still besieging me—they are a little more careful now, knowing that their light armor is no defense against my blade. When they retreat a few steps, I somersault backward and land next to a low table on which has been set two bowls, one full of oranges, the other walnuts.
Tuxi cries out in alarm as he barely ducks under Anake’s broadsword. I grab a walnut and hurl it as hard as I can. It hits Anake on the jaw, just outside the protection of his helmet. The big Rouran roars in pain.
I can make getting hit with a lotus seed paste bun hurt. Give me a walnut and I will break a man’s jaw.
In Anake’s moment of inattention, Tuxi’s sword slices through his leg. I almost lift off the floor with a rush of energy. Anake is their strongest fighter. With him hobbled, our chances suddenly look a lot better.
I launch myself at my two Rouran. Thrust. Parry. A slash from the side. They fear me now—I hear it in their panicked breaths and see it in their disorderly footwork. I bloody the arm of one Rouran and very nearly shave off the nose of the other.
We can do this. Subdue all the Rouran fighters, then take Lord Sang. Without him, this whole scheme falls apart. And once—
“Drop your weapons or I’ll kill your emperor!”
Captain Helou.
I leap away from my enemies before I glance in his direction. He has his arm around the emperor, a dagger at the latter’s throat.
“Drop. Your. Weapons.”
Tuxi takes a step toward his father. A line of red appears at the edge of Captain Helou’s dagger.
Hastily, Tuxi drops his sword. It clangs loudly against the floor.
Kai puts his down carefully, barely making any sound. He looks at me. I lower my sword likewise, then I stumble backward until I collapse onto the floor, panting.
The next moment, the dagger from my boot—the one Kai gave me in the mountains—sails
through the air and buries itself in Captain Helou’s neck. I sat down so that my hand would be closer to it, and I stumbled back to achieve a better angle for the throw.
Captain Helou drops in a heap.
Before I can calculate how many of our enemies are left, Lord Sang whistles, three short, abrupt trills. Men rush in from the front door—the counterfeit guards who have been standing outside, waiting to be summoned.
I scream in frustration as I dive for my sword. I thought we had neutralized Lord Sang’s advantage. I thought we might even have taken the upper hand. But I forgot how long he had prepared for this. He had men at the ready.
So many of them. Too many. It’s fortunate that the room isn’t large and only so many can fit inside, with weapons swinging everywhere. I’m fighting four men, which is one more than I can comfortably handle. I stop one blade a handspan from my forehead and another barely an inch from my shoulder.
“Xi xiong, where are the off-duty guards right now?” shouts Kai, his voice carrying above the din of battle.
The off-duty guards? Of course. The palace is guarded day and night, so there must be several shifts.
“In their dormitory!”
“How far is that?” Kai and I ask together.
“I’m not sure. Half a li?”
Half a li is too far for them to overhear us fighting inside. And even if we leave the crown prince’s rooms, the noise of our battle wouldn’t be enough to carry that far, penetrate walls, and awaken sleeping men.
But I know what will wake them up.
“Outside!” I cry. “We need to go outside!”
“Keep them inside!” commands Lord Sang.
I knock aside a spear. “Kai xiong, help me!”
“Let’s fight together, all of us!” he shouts back.
I dispatch two men, he probably more, before we meet. We give up a few paces to join with Tuxi and the emperor. But Kai was right: We are more tactically sound as a unit. He and I serve as the wedge of the spear, kicking, pushing, and thrusting men aside.
Lord Sang’s men cluster near the door to prevent us from leaving, but we were never headed for the door. Kai leaps onto a table, kicks open a window, and jumps out. I somersault out after him, not even bothering with the table.
The men left behind in the courtyard and those clustered at the door scramble toward us. But we have the advantage of speed and a clear idea of where we are headed.
“The gong!” cries Lord Sang. “Don’t let them get to the gong!”
This has the effect of slowing down his men, many of whom have no idea what he is talking about. The courtyard is dark, and I noticed the gong earlier only because it was where one fake guard stationed himself.
Kai and I run and slash, slash and run. The fake guards are catching up to us.
Kai stops. “You go. I’ll hold them off.”
But I take no more than three strides before a mountain of a man steps into my way. My mind goes blank—is it Anake, somehow recovered from the injury to his leg? No, it’s a different man altogether, even taller, even broader. He assumes a wide stance and shakes his battle-axe at me.
Without thinking, I take a running start and dive between his wide-spread legs. As soon as I get to my feet, before he realizes where I’ve gone, I leap, spin, and kick him on the side of the head.
Something whooshes in the air. I catch the spear and throw it back.
Send me another, you pigs. I can do this blindfolded.
I cover the remaining distance, yank the wooden hammer from its slot, and strike the gong.
The deep yet piercing metallic reverberations nearly deafen me. The sound should carry across the city and halfway to the mountains.
I steel myself and strike again. And again. And again.
The emperor and Tuxi are in the courtyard too. Lord Sang limps out of the reception room. He leans against the doorjamb and reaches down toward his boot. Before he can pull out a hidden weapon, Kai throws a dagger, pinning Lord Sang’s hand to his boot. Lord Sang screams.
“Kill them. Kill them all!”
A spear flies toward Kai’s back. I hurl the gong’s hammer. The wooden hammer knocks the spear off its trajectory and falls near Kai’s feet. He pushes off three attackers, hooks his boot under the hammer’s handle, and sends it flying back to me. I catch it and strike the gong three more times.
Now all the able-bodied enemies are in the courtyard, pressing in on us. How many are there? Still too many. And why has no one come to our aid yet?
I groan with effort. Sweat rolls down my temples. My sword becomes heavier with every sweep of my arm.
Still we fight.
My ears ring with the clashing of metal. My eyes are blind to everything except the flash of deadly weapons. My legs grow tired and unwieldy, as if I stand not on flat ground but on the deck of a ship caught in a storm.
Still we fight.
Tuxi grunts in pain—he’s taken a slash to the shoulder. The emperor’s footwork is lagging—he is no longer a young man, and it has probably been years since he last had to exert himself so. Kai is still fighting well, but I know his reaction time has slowed. I myself barely duck the fall of a broadsword, which I should have heard from half a li away.
How long can our enemies last?
How long can we last?
“If I don’t make it,” shouts Kai, “tell my aunt—tell her that I wish I had the good sense to call her ‘Mother.’”
My eyes sting with tears. “And if I don’t make it, tell my father that I’m grateful for everything!”
There is no time left for anything except gratitude.
And then, footsteps. Scores upon scores of men running in our direction.
The real guards, at least eighty strong, have come to the Son of Heaven’s defense.
My exhaustion evaporates in an instant. I kick one counterfeit guard in the throat and knock the broadsword of another clean out of his hand.
“Protect the emperor!” shouts Tuxi. “Arrest the traitor Lord Sang!”
“And let none escape!” cries the emperor.
But Lord Sang is already near the gate of the courtyard, the inrush of guards almost obscuring him from sight.
I half turn to Kai. “Give me another dagger!”
The men attacking us earlier are now busy defending themselves from the real guards, giving Kai room to pull a dagger from his left vambrace. I grab it and throw it halfway across the courtyard toward Lord Sang’s sidling form.
He screams.
But only in fright.
The dagger has pierced through his topknot and the handsome toque around it, and embedded itself in the wooden courtyard gate, pinning him in place.
The real guards apprehend him. His men, now leaderless, quickly give up. Suddenly I’m exhausted again. I drag myself to the gong, slump down onto the ground, and lean my back against its framework.
Vaguely I hear several voices asking the emperor whether he is unhurt. He calls for a physician to see to Tuxi’s shoulder and speaks to Kai. I pant, wipe the sweat from my face, and pant some more.
“Hua xiong-di,” calls Kai.
Weakly I flick a hand in the air, trying to tell him that I don’t want or need anything.
“Hua Mulan,” Kai calls again. “Present yourself before His Imperial Majesty.”
My head snaps up—this isn’t a request I can ignore. Kai is peering out from the crown prince’s house, beckoning me. I leap to my tired feet and hurriedly cross the courtyard.
At the door he stops me, his hand on my arm. “Are you all right?”
“Just spent. You?”
He smiles a little, as dirty and bedraggled as I’ve ever seen him. “Same. Now come.”
The emperor sits at the same table where I first saw him, but now the table is notched from the fight and the wine bowl he used earlier in fragments. Two steps into the room, I kneel. “This humble conscript presents his greetings to His Imperial Majesty.”
“Your Imperial Majesty, this is Hua xiong-di, Hu
a Mulan, who has proved himself a hero for the ages,” says Kai. Then, to me, “Hua Mulan, express your gratitude to His Imperial Majesty, who has bestowed upon you the great honor and charge of seeing to his personal safety.”
In my astonishment, I almost forget to kowtow.
For our night is only beginning. The Rouran could be here by sunrise, the capital is without an army, the city guards have been compromised, and Captain Chekun, from whom Lord Sang stole that all-important palace pass, is badly wounded from fighting Lord Sang’s men, once he realized what was going on.
Tuxi, despite his injuries, takes charge of the palace guards, as he is familiar with the inner workings of the palace. Kai is tasked with commanding those city guards who have not conspired with Lord Sang. And I follow a few paces behind the emperor as he oversees the organization of a civil defense.
The residents of the capital are roused from sleep. The armory empties. Barricades go up. By the middle of the night, I can map the capital from memory, with all its streets and landmarks.
From time to time during the frantic preparations, my mind strays to the men I pierced through, wondering whether they are dead or still drawing breaths. My skin crawls, recalling the stomach-churning, indescribable sensation of Heart Sea meeting flesh and bone. Once, I run to a corner to empty the contents of my stomach.
Not long before dawn, we return to the palace. While the emperor meets with group after group of officials in his personal study, I fall ravenously upon my breakfast. I haven’t had anything to eat since Futian Pass, and any nausea pales before the hunger of a woman who has ridden, fought, and worked all night.
A nobody like me eating in front of—or, in my case, behind—the emperor must be a breach of etiquette severe enough to make entire rows of courtiers faint. But the sovereign himself told the servants to give me a portion of everything. And I did not need more permission than that to begin.
The officials leave. I expect another group to come in. But when no one enters, I realize that the emperor has now met with everyone. We have done all we can. It only remains to be seen whether what we have done will be of any use.
The Magnolia Sword Page 23