by CK Dawn
His eyes widened. “You’re not allowed in there!” The simple marks on his armor, so different from the elaborate symbols on the imperial guards, did not suggest a high rank.
I donned the helmet, which strained my poor neck muscles. “I thought...” Too high-pitched! I cleared my throat and lowered my voice, as if singing a bass song. “I thought I heard someone in there.”
“Well, hurry up.” He pointed at a bundle of short spears.
Hugging them in my arms, I followed the boy to a line of horse-drawn carts, laden with weapons and bandages. Several grooms held the reins of messenger swifthorses. One of my palace physicians, Fang Weiyong, was giving instructions to medics.
Keeping my head low to avoid his eyes, I dared a glance at the palanquin, a hundred and some feet away. The decoy resembled me, or at least an idealized version of me…of course! It was undoubtedly the work of the magic bauble Kai-Long had used the night before to help me escape. In all likelihood, the best warrior held it now, and would use it to get close to Lord Tong.
Who could it be? An imperial guard, perhaps. Not one of mine, since Chen Xin, Ma Jun, Zhao Yue, Li Wei, and Xu Zhan were all gathered around the palanquin. Maybe it was Prince Hardeep, with his Paladin skills? It made sense, given what Kai-Long had said about Hardeep offering to help. And for what reason? Why would he risk himself when his own country needed him? My chest squeezed.
Then I shuddered as the decoy ducked into the palanquin. Better him than me! Even as heavy and languid as my limbs felt, it was far better to march all night than to ride in the suffocating confines of a glorified coffin.
“Soldiers of Cathay!” Cousin Kai-Long’s voice carried across the courtyard. He made for a dashing figure, sitting astride a white imperial stallion. The low murmurs guttered. “Tonight, we will march along the north highway. All night, double time.”
My legs buckled at the thought, and the lightweight armor and helm now might have been a dwarven anvil. Maybe the palanquin wasn’t such a bad thing. Using a Dragon Song to vanquish Lord Tong required energy; energy I wouldn’t have after a long night marching.
Kai-Long pointed north. “Our goal is to reach the Great Wall gate by dawn, then the outside of Wailian Castle by breakfast. We will rest for a short while to eat while we coordinate with General Lu’s Army of the North, and gather information about the traitor’s defenses. That might be your only rest before you are called on to storm an impregnable fortress.”
Mutters broke out, sharing my sentiment. This was a fool’s errand, an engagement that would only work if the decoy succeeded. Even more reason to try my way.
Holding up a hand, Kai-Long’s voice rose to a crescendo. “This may very well be the most difficult operation you will ever take part in. However, I know you. The best soldiers Cathay has seen in centuries are up to the task. Let us teach the rebel Tong Baxian the punishment for violating the Mandate of Heaven!”
The soldiers erupted into cheers, but I cringed. If pretty words were enough to convince a man to throw his life away, there didn’t need to be many orators to instigate wars. For now, I’d keep my head low, lest someone recognize me and end my first, and in all likelihood last, military campaign.
Horns blared, and the gatehouse opened. Kai-Long took the lead, followed by mounted senior staff, then the imperial guards surrounding my palanquin. The ranks of soldiers narrowed to six men abreast and filed out, their broadswords clanging and spears pounding. A light breeze caught the blue imperial banners.
The unit I’d joined, with the supply wagons and medics, followed on the order of a mounted officer. Luckily, years of dancing allowed me to imitate their body language and marching. As long as I made it past the gatehouse and all the familiar palace staff and guards, there would be little chance of anyone recognizing me.
“You!” a familiar male voice barked.
I turned, only to have the helmet slip and block my vision. I adjusted it and looked.
Just twenty feet away, Minister Hu jabbed a finger at a clearly drowsy Secretary Hong, flanked by the two guards I’d sung to sleep. “It is your fault she is missing. If any harm comes to her, the Emperor will have your head.”
Heavens, this was a mistake. Perhaps I could force Minister Hu’s silence by threatening to reveal his indiscretions with the Night Blossoms. However, it would have to wait until a successful return from Wailian Castle. And success wasn’t guaranteed.
What a dilemma. Four people might face severe punishment if I didn’t intervene; but then, my singing Lord Tong into submission might be the only way to keep the realm from sundering.
Shaking the uncertainties out of my head, I lifted my chin and marched. Through the plaza, into the gatehouse. On the other side, yet more soldiers assembled, joining the procession. By the time we reached the capital’s northern gates, we’d grown to nearly a thousand strong.
Thank the heavens I’d gotten my second wind. What made me think it was enough to make it to the Great Wall, let alone Wailian County? I set my eyes forward, concentrating on the rapid rhythm of boots.
Boots! In my haste, I hadn’t thought of that. I was wearing silk slippers. Perhaps no one had noticed in the dark, but at dawn…and that was assuming I didn’t wear the soles through or give my poor feet blisters.
“What’s your name?” I asked the young man.
“Su. Yours?”
“Wang.” The truth was easy enough to remember.
The column of soldiers turned north to the gatehouse and the bridge beyond, but my supply unit continued west. I leaned over to Su. “Won’t we travel with them?”
He laughed. “Where did they find you? They are marching too fast for the wagons to keep up for long. We’ll take river barges to Honggang and meet up with the army. That Lord Peng is a genius.”
My chest swelled with pride. Cousin Kai-Long was already proving resourceful on a military operation. And we’d take a boat. At least that would save my feet; maybe even give me a chance to rest. Unless the river barges foundered and capsized in the dark…
My unit arrived at Songyuan Quays, where the Jade River emerged from Sun-Moon Lake. At this late hour, light-bauble lamps posted along the warehouses illuminated the wooden docks. Several river barges had already disembarked, while soldiers worked at loading others. With Little Su’s prodding, I joined in the effort, hoping not to embarrass myself as I moved the heaviest loads I could.
Which were about half the size of the others. With a shake of his head, Little Su helped me. Within half an hour, my unit boarded a barge. A drummer set the rhythm for the rowers, and, combined with the spring melt current, we set off at a brisk pace.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, I had a chance to rest my feet. Back against a crate, I sat cross-legged. It was thoroughly unladylike, but it kept my slippered feet out of sight. Before long, we passed my wedding procession. At the head, I ducked, just in case Kai-Long or the imperial guards recognized me through the helm’s T-slot.
After a while, the iridescent moon reached full. I sucked in a breath at its beauty. Usually in bed before midnight, I rarely saw iridescent moon in its full glory. Depending on the outcome of this battle, I might never see it again. Never see Hardeep again, if he didn’t survive. My chest squeezed, foreboding thoughts bouncing in my head.
“Wake up!”
My eyes fluttered open. Little Su came into focus as he shook my shoulder. The boats were docking and unloading at a town. An officer on horseback bearing the red wolf emblem of Cousin Kai-Long’s Nanling Province oversaw the loading of twelve new horse-drawn carts. It was amazing to think Kai-Long had devised such a complex plan and coordinated the logistics in such a short time.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Honggang.” Su passed me half a pork bun. “Two-thirds of the way to the Great Wall.”
And right on the border of Hongzhou, one of the rebellious counties. I’d visited it last year, and there appeared to be more docks now. Hills rose up not far past the town, and beyond, the dark
outline of the mountains demarked the starry sky.
Once we’d loaded the supplies, we resumed our march. I gripped my spear haft so tightly my knuckles turned white. Without the bulk of the expeditionary force, it was up to my unit of thirty exceedingly young men to defend against rebels and bandits. And the weapon in my hands…I could reasonably not kill myself using a straight sword and dagger, but a spear was another story.
Two hours, marching uphill at night. At least the paved highway made it a little easier. Windows lit up in the villages and towns along the road, but we didn’t encounter any resistance. Only at Chengfu Township, in a dale next to the Great Wall’s gate, did I feel safer. Home to the gatehouse’s imperial garrison, we would gain some reinforcements as we crossed into Wailian County.
Or would we? Our unit’s commander refused an armed escort. “This is all part of Lord Peng’s plan,” he said. “The garrison needs to defend this town, since it effectively cuts the rebellion in two. In any case, the rest of the procession is just an hour behind.”
It meant travelling through the hotbed of rebellion for an hour, though I didn’t want to draw undue attention to myself by speaking up about the danger. Instead, we continued through the gatehouse to the other side of the wall.
I scanned the darkened land below. To think that not long ago, this region had belonged to the Nothori Kingdom of Rotuvi. The march down the mountain took less effort than the march up. Still, my entire body ached from the most continuous strain ever. Thankfully, I would never have to walk such a long distance again in my life.
As we descended, the Great Wall and mountains blocked the view of the iridescent moon behind us. Without it, I lost sense of how much time passed. Up ahead, the black of night began giving way to the inky blue before dawn.
The commanding officer called a halt at a bluff overlooking the next town. He pointed at it. “Wailian Township supports Wailian Castle, with barracks for many of Lord Tong’s soldiers. We will wait here until the rest of the army arrives.”
I squinted. In the low light, it was hard to make out the size of the town, but beyond it, the green-tiled roofs of Wailian Castle’s central tower sparkled in the first rays of morning. A single bridge traversed the ravine, which yawned between the town and castle battlements.
What had General Lu said? A ravine surrounds the castle on three sides, and a sheer cliff drops away on the other side. The rustling of water indicated a river running through the ravine. It was impossible to take by force, which meant Kai-Long’s plan hinged on my decoy eliminating Lord Tong.
And somewhere, hidden in the roar of the river, was the clopping of horse hooves. Hundreds, rumbling like thunder in the distance, but getting closer.
Tugging on Su’s sleeve, I pointed in the direction of the approaching horses. “Do you hear that?”
He stared at me, brows furrowed. “Hear what?”
“Horses!” I called out to the commander. “Horses!”
The commander met my gaze and scoffed. “I don’t hear anything. It’s…”
Some of the other boys’ ears picked up. Others shuffled uncomfortably. Now, even the commander looked.
Cresting the path were dozens of mounted soldiers, all bearing the green banners of Lord Tong. The boys around me started backing away from the carts. My heart pounded faster than the horses’ hooves.
The commander lowered his hand. “Steady, boys. Don’t flee. We are still flying Wailian’s banners. Let me talk to them.”
The Wailian cavalry surged up and surrounded us, training bows on the outnumbered boys. Their leader pointed a broadsword toward the supplies. “Surrender. Put your weapons and armor in the wagons.”
How did the enemy know we were with the imperial army? Kai-Long’s logistics had failed. We should have just waited for him instead of going ahead alone. I joined my trembling unit members in looking up to the commander. Surely, he would order surrender.
“Do as he says,” the commander said.
I let out my breath. At least for now, we would live. Except that beneath my armor was the silk inner gown I’d butchered. One by one, the boys placed their swords and spears inside the nearest carts and started removing their armor.
My hands trembled as I surrendered my own weapons. I was a prisoner of war, and that fate sent a chill up my spine. They’d find out I was a girl, and no one would recognize me as the princess. Revealing my true identity would spare me gang rape, and get me an audience with Lord Tong, where I could try the magic of my voice. No, I was too exhausted for that, and even if they believed me, it would end all chances of my decoy getting close to Lord Tong.
“You, too.” One of the Wailian soldiers prodded me in the back with the butt of a spear.
I stumbled forward, with Su grabbing my arm for support. Brushing him away, I removed the helm. I shook out my hair, lifted my chin, and faced the leader. “Sir, I am the daughter of Tai-Ming Lord Zheng Han.” Never mind that Tian didn’t have a sister, these rank and file soldiers wouldn’t know that. I lifted the armor to expose the fine silk underneath. “He will pay handsomely for my return.”
“I knew something was off,” Su said, eyes wide.
The leader’s expression hardened. “Take off your armor and put it in the cart.”
I crossed my arms and shook my head. With the gown shredded and the mismatched leggings, I’d look ridiculous.
“Or shall I have my men confirm your identity the hard way?”
Several of the soldiers closed in. Little Su backed closer, arms outstretched in protection. My limbs froze and refused to obey. With stiff fingers, I worked the armor off. Around me, the men laughed. Heat flared in my cheeks, even as the cold bit my exposed, armor-chaffed shoulders.
The leader unpinned his cloak and tossed it to me. “Now march. Not a word.”
Our own commander looked over the defenseless boys and nodded. “March.” His voice sounded wrong.
Something heavy settled in my gut. His tone didn’t gutter in defeat. And Heavens, we were providing supplies for the rebellion! Still, my comrades obeyed without question. What choice did we have?
At the point of rebel spears, we trudged through Wailian Town, which now roused with dawn. Men with picks and shovels walked in queues, humming in unison. I listened for the marching song’s spirit, in hopes it would invigorate me.
It didn’t work. I was a lone girl surrounded by many men, none who knew my true identity.
Twenty-Two
Failing to Plan, Planning to Fail
The sound of defeated boys trudging over the highway pavestones rang in my ears, so different from our confident march just earlier in the morning. Our supplies seized, taken prisoner by a rebel lord, exhausted from the long night…and who knew if we’d survive the day?
I shuddered as I walked through the town. Who knew how long my maidenhood would survive?
Right before the bridge, the enemy leader called for a halt. “Leave the equipment here. Follow me.” He rode ahead. The bridge was wide enough for five of us to walk abreast.
Their own officer raised an eyebrow at the leader. My stomach knotted. My instincts were right; he’d betrayed us. He dismounted and beckoned. “Come.”
Something sounded wrong, a tension in his voice. The rigidity of the rebels. I looked among my fellow young soldiers. Eyes down, shoulders slumped, it didn’t appear that any of them shared my suspicions as they plodded across the bridge. Up ahead, the castle gates opened, and a several armed men marched out.
Halfway onto the bridge, our commander turned around. “Sorry, boys.”
From his saddle, the enemy leader twisted around, unslung his bow, notched an arrow, and shot. It lodged deep into our commander’s back.
The commander choked on blood, his voice coming out in wheezes. “What about the deal?”
“The lord said to kill the entire unit, including you.” He raised a hand and made a fist.
From the town side of the bridge, bowstrings twanged. I glanced back. The cavalry were loosing arrows.
Screaming, several of the boys scrambled forward and trampled over each other. Maybe in their panic, they didn’t see that up ahead, soldiers were advancing with spears.
My own heart rapped hard in my chest. This was it. An ignoble ending to my noble intentions. All these poor boys, most no older than me, slaughtered on Lord Tong’s command. The bridge vibrated with their frantic steps.
Hear the waves and allow them to lend you their strength. The memory of Lord Xu’s lesson sounded in my mind, almost as if he spoke to me now. Tired as I was, I could borrow the sounds of chaos and the vibration of the bridge.
I gripped the stone with my toes through the tattered slippers. My blisters protested, lending an edge to my voice. “Stop!”
The boys froze in place. The ambushers ahead halted in the charge. The rain of arrows stopped.
I gaped. It had worked—on the first try, no less. Still, my energy guttered, buckling my knees and sending me panting for breath. Once they came to their senses, the murder would resume, and I didn’t have the energy to reprise the feat.
Shaking the fatigue out, I reached up and grasped the side of the bridge for support. Gaining my feet, I squared my shoulders and strode toward the leader. My hand pressed on Tian’s pebble.
I summoned a tone of command, speaking as I would to a palace servant. “I am Princess Wang Kaiya, here to meet my betrothed, Lord Tong Baxian.” I gestured to the cowering boys. “These are my honor guard. An attack on them is an attack on me.”
The leader favored me through slitted eyes. I’d just betrayed Kai-Long and the decoy, and there was no guarantee Lord Tong would spare any of us, let alone believe me in the first place.
The sound of drums in the distance drew my attention from the enemy leader on the bridge to the road behind me.
A man on horseback, flying Lord Tong’s green, cantered through the city. “Princess Kaiya’s procession is coming, maybe half an hour away.”