“They’re trying to get through the gate.”
Another crash sounded from beyond the burning buildings.
Wood.
Men shouting.
Then something heavier struck again.
I looked at the household guard.
“How long will it hold?”
His face answered before he did.
“I don’t know.”
Wonderful.
General Duan was already moving.
“How many?”
“Three hundred at least. Perhaps more farther back.”
“Mounted?”
“Some.”
“Other entrances?”
The guard pointed around the compound.
“A servants’ gate on the southern wall. Smaller.”
“Open?”
“It was barred when I left.”
“Can it be reached without passing the main road?”
“Yes.”
Duan Wei turned toward his officers.
“Two hundred take the main road. Do not charge the gate. Push them away from the walls first.”
One captain bowed.
“Another hundred around the north. Nobody leaves that way.”
Another bow.
“Fifty dismount with me. Southern entrance.”
I stepped forward.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
Of course.
I looked at him.
“How do I get inside?”
Duan Wei paused.
That had not been the argument he expected.
“The southern gate.”
“Good.”
“You stay behind my men.”
“Fine.”
Xu An looked at me.
“Young Master.”
“What?”
“You cannot fight.”
“I know.”
He seemed almost surprised that I agreed.
“So stay close.”
“I also know.”
Another impact struck the main gate.
Something cracked.
The household guard flinched.
I was already moving.
We left the horses behind.
My legs objected immediately.
Apparently riding for half a day and then walking were two separate crimes.
I ignored both.
Fifty soldiers moved ahead of us through a narrow field path beside the compound wall.
No shouting.
No banners.
Just men with shields and spears moving quickly through the dark.
Smoke drifted over the wall.
I could hear people inside.
Women.
Children.
Someone shouting orders.
Then another crash at the gate.
Closer now.
The wall beside us shuddered slightly.
Duan Wei raised one hand.
Everyone stopped.
Two coalition soldiers appeared ahead near the corner.
They saw us.
One shouted.
Duan Wei’s men killed them before I properly understood what was happening.
We moved again.
Fast.
Too fast for me.
My legs hurt.
My palms hurt.
My lungs hurt.
Nobody cared.
Neither did I.
The servants’ gate appeared ahead.
Small.
Wooden.
Closed.
One of the household guards with us struck it.
“Open!”
Nothing.
Again.
“Dong household! Open!”
Movement inside.
A voice.
“Who?”
“General Duan’s men!”
A pause.
Then:
“The Young Master is here!”
I looked at the guard.
Was that necessary?
Something slammed against the other side of the gate.
Bars moved.
The door opened barely wide enough for one man.
A terrified servant stared through the gap.
Then saw me.
His mouth opened.
I pointed inside.
“Later.”
He stepped aside.
Good man.
The inner yard was chaos.
Not complete chaos.
Organized chaos.
That was worse.
Furniture had been dragged against doors.
Water buckets stood along the walls.
Several injured men lay beneath an awning.
Women moved children toward the rear rooms.
Someone had broken apart two tables for timber.
Food baskets had been stacked inside instead of valuables.
Qiao’er had listened.
Of course she had.
Another crash sounded from the main courtyard.
Then screaming.
A servant ran toward us.
“The gate!”
Duan Wei turned.
“What happened?”
“It broke!”
Fuck.
His soldiers moved immediately.
I followed.
Xu An grabbed my sleeve.
“Young Master.”
I pulled free.
“I know.”
I did not know.
That was becoming common.
We reached the passage into the main courtyard just as men came through the broken gate.
Not hundreds.
Not yet.
Maybe twenty.
Thirty.
Enough.
Household guards were already fighting them.
One fell.
A coalition soldier climbed over the broken wood.
Another followed.
Duan Wei’s men hit them from the side.
The courtyard became noise.
Spears.
Wood.
Metal.
Someone screamed.
I drew my sword.
For the first time, I actually intended to use it.
A man came toward me.
I raised the blade.
He died.
I stared.
A spear had entered beneath his ribs.
One of Duan Wei’s soldiers pulled it free.
“Young Master.”
Right.
Apparently I had contributed morally.
Another man appeared behind him.
The soldier killed that one too.
I reconsidered my position in the battle.
Behind trained professionals remained excellent military doctrine.
Duan Wei shouted an order.
His men pushed toward the gate.
The first attackers inside were trapped between household guards and trained infantry.
They lasted less time than I expected.
Outside, horns sounded.
Our cavalry had reached the main road.
The men beyond the gate began shouting.
Different shouting.
Fear.
Orders.
Then retreat.
Duan Wei’s soldiers drove the remaining attackers back through the broken entrance.
I did not follow.
I had finally learned something.
Instead I looked around.
Qiao’er.
Where?
“Where is Qiao’er?”
One servant pointed toward the inner courtyard.
“She was there, Young Master.”
Was.
I hated that word.
I ran.
Or attempted to.
After several hours on horseback, it probably looked more like an injured duck escaping a kitchen.
I did not care.
The inner courtyard was quieter.
Not quiet.
Just farther from the fighting.
Women and children crowded beneath the covered gallery.
Two injured household men sat against a pillar.
Someone was wrapping a bandage.
Then I saw pale green.
Qiao’er stood beside the doorway to the inner rooms.
Her hair had partly come loose.
Dust marked one side of her face.
One sleeve had torn near the shoulder.
She held a short knife.
There was blood on it.
She was speaking to an older woman.
“Keep them inside until someone confirms the gate is secure.”
The woman nodded.
Qiao’er turned.
Saw me.
Stopped.
Everything around her continued.
People moved.
Someone cried.
A child called for his mother.
Farther away, soldiers shouted.
Qiao’er did nothing.
Neither did I.
For three days I had imagined several different versions of this moment.
Most had involved her being dead.
I had disliked all of them.
Now she was standing fifteen steps away looking at me as though I had personally arrived from the moon.
I walked toward her.
She still did not move.
I stopped in front of her.
“You said two days.”
Her face changed.
Not much.
“Young Master.”
Her voice shook.
Only once.
Then she recovered.
Mostly.
I looked at the knife.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“That answer was too fast.”
“I am not hurt.”
I looked at her torn sleeve.
She followed my eyes.
“That is cloth.”
“Very observant.”
“A man grabbed it.”
Something cold moved through me.
“Where is he?”
Qiao’er glanced toward the courtyard.
“I believe one of the guards killed him.”
Good.
Excellent guard.
I would find out which one.
“Anything else?”
“A bruise.”
“Where?”
She stared at me.
I stared back.
Eventually:
“My arm.”
“Show me.”
“Young Master.”
“Show me.”
She pulled the sleeve back enough to reveal a darkening mark above her elbow.
No blood.
No broken skin.
A bruise.
I breathed again.
Apparently I had stopped.
Qiao’er watched me.
I pulled my attention away.
“The others?”
Her eyes lowered.
“Two guards died.”
I already knew one was missing.
Hearing it still landed differently.
“Servants?”
“Three injured. One badly.”
“Women?”
“Safe.”
“Children?”
“Safe.”
Good.
That mattered.
I looked around the courtyard.
Food inside.
Furniture used as barricades.
People sheltered in the interior rooms.
“You did all this?”
Qiao’er looked toward the damaged tables.
“The local steward helped.”
“Of course.”
She looked at me again.
Then down.
At my clothes.
Mud.
Dust.
Blood that was probably not mine.
Then my boots.
Then my hands.
Her eyes stopped there.
I followed them.
The reins had opened the skin again.
Both palms were red.
I closed my fingers.
“It looks worse than it is.”
Qiao’er said nothing.
That was unusual.
Then she looked past me.
Toward the passage.
A soldier ran through.
Then another.
Duan Wei’s banner was visible beyond the courtyard.
Qiao’er’s eyes stayed there slightly too long.
I noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Suspicious.
She looked back at me.
“How did Young Master get here?”
“Horse.”
Her eyes moved over me again.
“I can see that.”
Right.
There were apparently limits to concise answers.
“The carriage was slow.”
Qiao’er said nothing.
Again.
This was becoming disturbing.
“Are you feeling ill?”
“No.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Yes, Young Master.”
Better.
Mostly.
The fighting ended quickly after that.
Not everywhere around Yanshi.
But around the compound.
Duan Wei’s cavalry hit the scattered attackers from two directions.
Most ran.
Some surrendered.
Others died because they tried not to.
The compound gate was ruined.
One outer building burned.
But the walls still stood.
The people inside still lived.
That was enough.
I found Duan Wei near the entrance after the last fighting stopped.
“How many?”
“Enemy?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps eighty dead around the compound and road. More scattered.”
“Our men?”
“Seven dead so far. More wounded.”
Seven.
He said it calmly.
Not because he did not care.
Because generals probably could not afford to react to each number individually.
I looked toward the household guards.
Two of them would not be going home.
Duan Wei followed my eyes.
“Young Master.”
“What?”
“You should rest.”
“No.”
“You have ridden since Xin’an.”
“Yes.”
“You can barely walk.”
“That is unrelated.”
“It is entirely related.”
I looked toward the inner courtyard.
“I will rest later.”
Duan Wei studied me for a moment.
Then apparently decided he had fought enough battles for one day.
“As you wish.”
Good man.
He turned away.
One of his captains approached before he could leave.
“General, the remaining troops should reach the area by morning.”
Qiao’er was nearby.
I saw her look over.
Duan Wei nodded.
“Keep the road secured. I want scouts east and south before dawn.”
“Yes, General.”
The captain left.
Qiao’er was still standing there.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
I walked over.
“Why are you still awake?”
She looked at me.
“I could ask Young Master the same.”
“I asked first.”
“I am working.”
“So am I.”
She glanced toward Duan Wei.
Then toward the soldiers filling the compound.
Then back to me.
Her expression remained perfectly polite.
That was somehow worse than sarcasm.
I frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Everyone had learned this answer.
I disliked it.
Later, Xu An brought water.
I sat beneath the gallery because my legs had finally begun negotiating independently.
Qiao’er appeared with clean cloth.
“What is that?”
“Your hands.”
“They are attached.”
“For now.”
There she was.
Much better.
She sat beside me.
Not close.
Close enough.
Then took one of my hands.
I almost pulled it back.
Mostly from pain.
She noticed.
“Hold still.”
“I crossed several hundred li to avoid being ordered around by you.”
Her hands stopped.
Only for a heartbeat.
Then continued cleaning the torn skin.
“That seems inefficient.”
I looked at her.
She kept her eyes on my palm.
Good.
Normal.
Mostly normal.
The cloth came away red.
“This is unpleasant.”
“You insisted on riding.”
“I was misled about horses.”
“By whom?”
“Civilization.”
Her mouth moved.
Almost a smile.
Then disappeared.
She wrapped the first hand.
Then the second.
Her fingers were steady now.
Mine were not.
From somewhere near the gate, two soldiers were talking.
Not quietly enough.
“…never seen anything like it.”
“Which part?”
“The wagons.”
I looked toward them.
Too late.
Qiao’er’s hands had stopped again.
One soldier continued.
“They broke the road behind them. Whole front body trapped.”
The other laughed.
“With their own carts.”
“General Duan’s idea?”
A pause.
“No.”
I stared at the two men.
Please stop talking.
The first soldier lowered his voice.
Not enough.
“The Young Master.”
Qiao’er continued wrapping my hand.
Slowly.
I watched her face.
Nothing.
No surprise.
No question.
She tied the cloth.
Then:
“Too tight?”
“What?”
“The bandage.”
“No.”
She nodded.
That was it.
No:
What happened?
No:
What did you do?
No:
Why did an army come here?
Nothing.
I should have been relieved.
Instead I became suspicious.
“Qiao’er.”
“Yes, Young Master?”
“Are you sure you are not injured?”
“I am sure.”
I studied her.
She looked perfectly calm.
Fine.
Good.
Excellent.
I had enough problems.
I did not need mysterious attendants too.
Near midnight, the compound finally quieted.
Not completely.
Soldiers still changed watches.
Wounded men still groaned occasionally.
Some children still refused to sleep.
But the immediate danger had passed.
I stood in the courtyard because sitting had become difficult and standing had become worse, which left me with few options.
Qiao’er found me there.
She had changed robes.
The pale green was gone.
A plain darker robe had replaced it.
Her hair was tied properly again.
Almost as though nothing had happened.
Almost.
She stepped beside me.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then she reached toward my collar.
I caught her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“It is crooked.”
I looked down.
Of course it was.
“I think presentation has become less important.”
“Apparently not.”
I released her.
She straightened it.
Same as always.
Except her fingers trembled once.
Very slightly.
I noticed.
She withdrew her hands immediately.
“Young Master looks terrible.”
“I rode a horse.”
“Yes.”
“You are supposed to be sympathetic.”
“I am trying.”
“You need practice.”
“I have had little reason.”
Cruel woman.
Good.
I preferred this.
I looked out toward the damaged gate.
Qiao’er remained beside me.
Then her eyes dropped to my bandaged hands.
Stayed there.
She said nothing.