The Warriors Path

by Brian Thomas

  Shushan fended a blow from the right then cut her way past a snarling face that loomed ahead. As the man fell away she saw a warrior with a bare torso leap from his horse after Zanwen, getting his sword trapped on the edge of the litter’s box frame. The nomad was flung back from the litter in a shower of fragments but was instantly replaced by another who dived into the dark interior, his knife and sword thrusting forward. Another snarling face loomed ahead slowing her progress and when she was free to look up again Shushan just caught a glimpse of Zanwen grappling hand to hand with the warrior who had dived on top of him. Zanwen head-butted the man as they struggled but the bigger man merely shook his head before returning the head-butt in kind, but much more viciously from his position astride Zanwen.

  Shushan was too far away to reach Zanwen in time and knew he would be dead in seconds when unbidden the image of Zun flinging his sword to spin through the air filled her mind. With a grunt of effort she flung her arm back and then forward, sending her short sword spinning through the air in a desperate gamble to reach the threat in time. The man on top of Zanwen drew his arm back and braced to make the killing blow, suddenly jarring to a stiff halt. The spinning blade had buried itself deep in his back, its bloodied point bursting from his bared chest. He arched his back with the shock of the blow, dropping both his knife and sword to either side. Remaining upright for a long breath, he slumped before collapsing forward over Zanwen.

  The last of the nomad warriors broke or were finished off by Zun’s force and Shushan dropped from her horse to race after her sword towards the collapsing litter, reaching it just before a Guang Commander. Pushing her way in she placed one foot on the back of the dead nomad, retrieving her sword before pulling his sweat covered bulk from off Zanwen and half dragging the dead warrior clear of the interior.

  The officer behind her had no choice but to drag the nomad’s body the rest of the way clear to make space, grunting with the effort as he did so, while Shushan returned for Zanwen. Leaning over his still form Shushan knew her thrown sword had pierced the nomad’s torso but was mortified to realise that the protruding tip of the blade had also pierced Zanwen’s shoulder as the stricken warrior had collapsed on top of him. Zanwen was covered in blood and gore from the battle and now this shoulder wound. Still with sword in hand Shushan pulled Zanwen upright to get him clear of the litter. Startled she almost dropped Zanwen again as she looked directly into a pair of frightened eyes revealed as she had lifted him.

  A woman had been concealed by Zanwen’s slumped body, now peering up at her fearfully from the depths of the shattered box. Obviously a noble woman she was also covered in blood and looked as if she expected Shushan to slice her wide open with her still bloody sword.

  Shushan turned as the officer who had helped to drag clear the dead warrior tried to squeeze in behind her. With a glower that clearly defied admittance she eased the commander back. “Help me get Zanwen out. Be careful, he is wounded.” The commander paused, nodding with resignation and reversed out of the entrance again as she passed Zanwen back.

  The commander made to enter again and Shushan pulled the tattered remnants of the interior curtains together with a snap either side of her head. As he made to protest she snarled, “Wait!” Startled, he looked towards the dark and masked interior where only Shushan’s head was visible between the billowing silk curtains. Again he reluctantly backed off, torn between checking on his charge and letting a woman deal with any issue within. Standing in indecision, he was suddenly beset by men seeking his attention and the silk curtains were drawn closed even more securely as Shushan pulled her head inside, a clear instruction denying entry.

  Rong was sucking his teeth in angst when he was suddenly face to face with the man who had led the charge with the woman now inside the litter. The man signalled his commiseration with a wry smile. “I see you have already met the Ice Maiden.”

  Commander Rong frowned back. Remembering his manners he gave a deep bow. “Captain Rong of the Second Guang House Guard, Snake Battalion, at your service. I offer my thanks at your intervention. May I ask your name and for which House you act?”

  “My name is Zun, I am of the same city as Zanwen and we act for ourselves.”

  Captain Rong was unable to prevent some of his surprise showing, giving Zun a surreptitious glance. He would have sworn Zun was a swordmaster from one of the empire’s academies and the uniformed soldiers who followed Zun’s orders certainly resembled those from a Great House. Rong was not aware of Zanwen having any formal military support, let alone an established force of such calibre this close to the northern Guang territories. Seeing Zun smile, he realised he had telegraphed his thoughts and bowed deeply again. “I will ensure my master learns of your help and that of Master Zanwen.” At his name they glanced across to Zanwen, who was now leaning against the body of a dead horse, his shoulder wound being cleaned and bound with fresh linen.

  Groggily, Zanwen looked across at them, wincing as the linen was wound tight. “How he managed only to give me a flesh wound in the shoulder when I was unconscious and lying in front of him I do not know.” Smiling broadly at them both he added, “But I am pleased his ineptitude means I still live and owe my thanks to whoever prevented the brute from completing his objective.”

  Captain Rong frowned as he thought of Shushan withdrawing her sword from deep within the back of the nomad who had fallen across Zanwen. He opened his mouth but catching an innocent expression on Zun’s face thought better of what he was about to say.

  Zun returned the captain’s earlier bow and said with a smile. “Master Zanwen is pleased with the honour you and your Great House have shown him. He is also pleased to return the compliment.” Some of Zun’s own men approached and he turned away to deal with the problems they brought, as Captain Rong was similarly engaged by his own men.

  Shushan regarded the woman, not much more than a girl, who still lay awkwardly amongst the wreckage within the box. Shushan remained silent as she listened to Zun, Zanwen and Rong talking outside. In this gloomy interior screened off from the world outside it was easy to feel apart and removed from events but all the more vulnerable because the occupant was blind to what happened, relying on muted sound alone to interpret what was taking place.

  By the time Zun and Captain Rong had gone their separate ways the young woman had decided Shushan represented no immediate threat and began to stir. Shushan righted the seat and the woman half collapsed and half sat in it, her elaborate hair arrangement coming adrift as the long ivory pins holding it in place became dislodged. The woman subconsciously smoothed the fine gown across her thighs but stopped when she felt the damp stickiness of the fine cloth, lifting her hands to examine the blood which covered her. She looked shocked and Shushan spoke to her directly for the first time. “It is not yours. There were two men on top of you. Zanwen and a barbarian on top of him. The barbarian was killed and Zanwen was injured. Some of their blood found its way to you.” Squinting in the dark of the curtained box Shushan added, “You have a few grazes but nothing serious.” Shushan continued to regard the woman curiously, deciding that though not much older in years she felt far more worldly and experienced. Realising she still held drawn swords Shushan grabbed a hand-full of the nearest silk curtain to wipe them clean before sheathing them behind her back. Looking up she found she was being scrutinised with equal curiosity by the young woman, who was now regaining some of her composure.

  “You dress like a man for battle and you carry swords.” Looking at the curtain where Shushan had wiped her swords clean and her gore splattered clothes, she added with a touch of awe, “And you have used them.”

  Shushan was pleased at the young woman’s obvious respect and relaxed, losing the scowl she had not even realised she wore. It was a revelation that this woman’s opinion of her was important and Shushan was suddenly pleased she had kept the others away while she gave her a chance to recover. “I was at Zun’s side as we led the charge through the nomads attacking you.” Shushan’s shoulders
came back in pride. “I was first to break through and saw Zanwen fall backwards into this jiao, fighting off the last of the dogs. It was my blade which killed the barbarian about to slaughter him,” she gestured casually at the woman, “who then bled all over you, ruining your fine gown.”

  The young woman’s eyes were wide as she listened but when Shushan finished she consciously adopted a more regal pose and formally bowed in her seat. “You have my thanks and will receive that of my father, Master Guang of the Great House of Guang.”

  As the woman fell into habitual ritual and continued to recover her natural poise, it was Shushan who became self-conscious, making her unintentionally gruff as she shrugged. “We came to save Zanwen.” Her own abrupt response left Shushan feeling inadequate and awkward, whereas a few moments ago she had felt entirely in control. The two of them stared at each other, the young woman suddenly smiling, holding a hand to her mouth as she did so. Shushan relaxed again, smiling in return.

  The woman sat upright again. “My name is, Swallow. May I know your name?”

  Shushan bowed in return. “I am Shushan.”

  Swallow raised a sculpted eyebrow. “I heard the man outside, Lord Zun,” she queried, “refer to The Ice Maiden. Is this not you?”

  Shushan flushed and the scowl returned. “If I find out who started that I will skewer them so they will be unable to make a similar mistake in the future.”

  Swallow raised both eyebrows in surprise. “You do not like the name? It did not sound as though it was used disrespectfully, quite the opposite. It sounds very martial, very warrior-like and I should have thought you would have enjoyed the appellation.”

  Shushan tilted her head to one side as she considered what Swallow had said. “Perhaps,” she responded grudgingly. Then she smiled conspiratorially. “Perhaps I do like it, but it is not good to appear too soft about these things.” They both smiled again, the stress and gut-wrenching fear of the battle just a few minutes earlier giving way to the light-headed euphoria of exhausted relief at having survived. They heard someone approach and start shuffling uncomfortably the other side of the curtain, obviously wanting to check on the occupants but not quite sure if they should. With a scowl of irritation Shushan stuck her head out between the curtains to see who it was and what they wanted.

  Captain Rong straightened up at seeing Shushan’s head reappear. Behind him she could see the Guang soldiers who had survived looking on anxiously, while trying to appear discreet as they did so. “I have come to enquire about our Lady.” Captain Rong’s genuine concern was matched in equal measure by his awkwardness at the unfamiliar situation, relieved that a woman could enquire of Swallow’s disposition and see to her but, nevertheless, anxious to know the state of his charge.

  Relenting a little Shushan told him, “Bring us some water and a cloth. After a few minutes gather your men.” Rong bowed and, visibly relieved, set off to do as she commanded. As Shushan pulled her head back behind the curtains Swallow regarded her wide-eyed. “Do they always do as you say? The warriors are always so intimidating.”

  Shushan returned her look in surprise. “I had not thought about it. I suppose if you sound as though you expect to be obeyed you are more likely to be than if you sound doubtful that you will. Sound weak and others will question your authority.” Hearing the bowl arrive outside Shushan reached out and pulled it within the litter’s screens. “Quickly, we must make you presentable before you speak to your men.”

  Swallow shrunk back, some of the recovered composure slipping away at the thought of having to step beyond the flimsy safety of the litter and into the real world again. Seeing her reaction Shushan was gentle but firm. “Your men fought bravely to defend you. They gave their best and many their lives, that you should live. You must now give them your best or you will dishonour them and yourself. The men need to see their leaders as stronger, better than they believe themselves to be. Someone to look up to. So that in times of trial and hardship they will have confidence their leaders will have the strength and answers they cannot find in themselves. This is your battle to win and you can give no less than they have already. You must speak to them now and in doing so you will bind them to you forever.” Shushan waited as the look of panic slowly subsided, volunteering, “I shall stand beside you. You will not be alone.”

  Swallow eventually nodded and Shushan began using the cloth to wipe the blood from the young woman’s face and hands, removing a hairpin to replace it more securely. As Shushan rinsed out the soiled cloth Swallow looked at her anxiously. “What should I say? I have never spoken to such a group of men, soldiers, before.”

  Shushan shrugged as she now used the cloth to wipe the worst of the gore from Swallow’s gown. “They were frightened but fought well. They thought themselves beaten but continued to fight and defend you. As a result they and you live. Tell them they did well. That you are proud. That your father will be proud when you tell him of them.” Shushan glanced up. “Be worthy of the sacrifice they made.” Seeing the wide-eyed look Swallow gave her, she sighed with a smile. “Don’t worry. Speak from the heart rather than the mind and the words will come.” Giving Swallow a quick inspection she rose and stepped between the silk screens into the bright light of the afternoon.

  Gathered around were the remaining Guang soldiers, all bearing scars or wounds from the battle. Some were being supported by their comrades as they waited anxiously for Swallow to appear. Stepping from the seclusion of the screened litter into the aftermath of the battle the carpet of dead and maimed men was all the more shocking. Swallow followed her out to stand in a clear space away from the litter and facing the men, regal in her posture. Her rich gown in good order but, nevertheless, clearly covered in the blood Shushan was unable to remove. Evidence of her proximity to the fighting and danger they had all faced.

  Activity in the camp ceased. Even the men from Shushan’s own band stopped what they were doing, to watch and listen curiously. Swallow wore the controlled expression of the masters, her fingers pressed lightly together as she signalled for her men to rise, which they did to their knees. Swallow took her time. Scanning the men before her almost all of them nursed some injury from the recent battle. There were hundreds of dead being collected and many of the less severely injured still awaited attention. The silence had almost become uncomfortable when at last she spoke, her voice firm and loud enough to be heard by them all. “It is said that my father is a proud man and that ours is a proud House. I have heard other Houses claim that such pride is unjustified, that our pride is merely arrogance. I am my father’s daughter and have my father’s pride. Though knowing no different, have never questioned that it should be so.”

  Swallow pushed her chin forward, her eyes glittering and traces of emotion slipping into her voice as she continued. “This morning my pride was a shallow thing based on ignorant arrogance. This afternoon, you have taught me the real pride that my father has for this Great House, our House. I shall no longer concern myself with the thoughts of little men not part of it. For I now understand what it is to be amongst giants and that if my father’s pride were greater than any other master in the empire, it would not be unjustified. There is no other House in the Hansee Empire I would accept, other than to be of this one. You did well, soldiers of House Guang and I will tell my father so. Though, he would have expected nothing less. As will I in the future now that I have seen what the men of House Guang may achieve when there seems no room for hope.”

  For a moment there was complete silence and then all eyes focused on Captain Rong. He stood snapping to attention, looking directly at Swallow and surprising her as he struggled to contain the emotion he felt. He struck his chest in salute twice, shouting clearly “Ho, House Guang! Ho, Swallow!” The rest of the men, who could, struggled to their feet and repeated the salute. Many with tears in their eyes, the after-effect of the battle beginning to strike home amongst the tired survivors.

  Shushan gently took Swallow by the elbow and guided her back to the sanctuary of t
he screened litter. Swallow sank back into the chair, the image of utter and absolute carnage outside indelibly burned into her memory forever. She asked fearfully, “My maids, did any survive?”

  Shushan glanced at Captain Rong who had followed them to the silk screens. Stopping at the question he shook his head at Shushan in silent response. Looking up at Shushan Swallow read the answer and buried her head in her hands, her slim shoulders shook while she sobbed silently. Captain Rong glanced at Shushan before turning away again, knowing the impact of being in a battle for the first time and the importance of personal space to recover. If anything, as he set about the many tasks which waited his attention he was even more impressed by Swallow who had done what was required of her when she could have been no less in shock than the rest of them.

  His heart was heavy at the loss and waste of battle but his faith in the resilience of the young to cope with what life threw at them was bolstered. Smiling grimly as he returned to his men, he also admitted he was damned proud of them and what they had achieved against overwhelming odds. He too would choose no other House than that of Guang to serve.

  The following morning Zun agreed with Captain Rong that what remained of their caravan and the wounded would relocate to a clean camp closer to water. It was decided to wait until Zun’s own caravan reached them on its way back from Tanyel City, so they could use some of the wagons to carry the Guang wounded their goods and Swallow home. Zun dispatched a rider to direct their caravan to join them at the new camp while those who remained saw to the dead.

  They built two burial mounds. One for their own and the other for the barbarians and horses killed during the battle. It took a further two days to dig and fill the mounds, strip anything of value and seal the bodies deep enough that scavengers could not reach them. While the burial of their own dead was a ritual which honoured their sacrifice the burial of the barbarians was merely to prevent disease. The reward was the additional two thousand horses Zun was able to collect and the motley collection of arms and anything else of value recovered from the barbarians.