Chapter 187

Chapter 187

Sitting next to the bed, Baatar stroked Sarnais cheek and channelled his Chi, giving all he could as he prayed for her to wake. A crude imitation of the boys healing method, barely enough to close a puncture wound much less anything more serious, but it was all he could do for his foolish wife, his beautiful rose. Seeing her like this pained him more than any injury, so still and silent, unlike her usual spirited self. Even as a child she was full of fire and vinegar, the terror of the village with her capers and pranks. More than once hed found himself at her mercy, until he learned it was better to stand at her side than in her path. From then on, theyd been inseparable.

He never should have accepted this posting, especially without consulting her. His hunger for glory and battle forced her from their safe home and onto the front lines, filled with peril and treachery. Even a quiet evening in celebration of their marriage was denied to them, turning into a desperate struggle for both their lives. What had he been thinking, asking her to leave their peaceful home, putting her and his family in harm's way? Gently taking her hands, he kissed them lightly and whispered, Please wake up my love, Im lost without you. I promised to bring you home and I mean to keep it. Well live out our days in the village, no more Iron Banner, no more responsibilities, just you, me, and our family, together. Please...

His Chi exhausted, he smoothed out her blankets and slumped in his chair, his cheek on the pillow beside her as he struggled to find Balance and replenish his reserves. How long had he been at this? A new day had dawned, which meant it was now the first day of the seventh month, two nights since Sarnai took injury. Sleep called to him, but he shook it off, careful not to disturb her. Now more than ever, his love needed his support and nothing would tear him from her side. How silly hed been, believing they still had decades of life together yet, wasting so much time away from her. He knew now, every spare second should have been spent with the love of his life, cherishing and spoiling her with all his affection, instead of riding about with the Banner and gallivanting without her.

Stubborn, quarrelsome woman, it would be like her to die before her time just to win an argument.

A light knock sounded on the door, startling him to vigilance. Papa? His precious daughter Alsantset peered in before entering, carrying a tray of food. Taduk mentioned its been a while since you ate, so I had Charok make you something.

My girl, come in. Sparing her the briefest of smiles, he pulled a chair next to her. Im not hungry, but come, sit with your mother. No need to admonish her, but hed be lying if he said he wasnt a little disappointed. True she had her own family to look after, but how was it she couldnt spare a few hours for her ailing mother until now?

Papa, you need to eat, your wounds have yet to fully heal. When was the last time you slept? Properly slept, laying down in a bed? You should really let Taduk take a look at you.

Bah, Ill not listen to anything that hare-brained fool has to say. Though Baatar overlooked the first mention, the girl insisted on bringing that overblown braggart into the conversation. Medical Saint my ass. How many times have you heard him boast of healing anything short of death? Yet where is he now, when Sarnai needs him most? Nowhere to be found, a charlatan is what he is.

Putting aside the tray, the girl sighed as she sat down beside him, leaning against his shoulder. Hes busy helping soldiers Papa, your soldiers. So many healers were targeted in the first wave of attacks, every spare hand is needed.Read latest chapters at nov(e)lbin.com Only

Strangers and outsiders, he snorted, wrapping his arm around her. Enough girl, Ill not argue with you at your mothers sick bed. Youre just like her, vexing me as always.

I miss her too Papa.

Do not speak of her as if she were already dead, he hissed, more harshly than intended. Your mother yet lives and will continue to do so. She is born of hardy stock, you know? They passed before you were born, but your grandparents were incredible warriors, taught her everything she knew. If not for- He cut himself off and shook his head, letting sorrowful memories lie buried. Taking Sarnais hand, he let out a hopeful sigh. Shell wake soon, I know she will. Mother help me, please let her wake. When we were young, Master called us the twin terrors of the Bekhai. You should have seen us, me leading the charge while she guarded my flanks, a harmonious duo both on and off the battlefield, we were matched by the Mother herself.

Papa, look at me. It took several moments before he could tear his eyes away from Sarnai, turning to look at his daughter. Usually so proud and strong, the girl sat with tears in her eyes, dark rings beneath them, her clothes stained with marks of battle as she silently pleaded for help. So weak and vulnerable, he hadnt seen her make a face like this in years, not since she threatened to elope with Charok. Do you think me unfilial? Do you believe that I, your daughter, care nothing for Mama?

Pulling her into a hug, he patted her hair. Course not girl, youre a splendid daughter. Your mother and I are so proud of you, we love you dearly.

Then why do you suppose I waited so long to visit?

Surprised by the question, Baatar shook his head and pinched his girls cheeks, just like he did when she was a child. No need to fret girl, youre here now. Thats all that matters.

Idly, he wondered how the other Officers were handling the pressure. Strange how the Purge seemed to bring the four young Officers closer together, especially Rain and Dastan, with their shared glances during the meeting. Truth be told, Fung felt like an outsider among them, which compounded his surprise when the others readily agreed to his plan. Jia Zian was the same as always, cool and aloof, while Dastan was more eager and animated, a fire burning inside him since taking part in the Purge. BoShui changed the most however, his impish, mocking tone all but gone, especially in the face of his cousins betrayal. Little wonder he volunteered for the most dangerous position, Fung was sweating bullets even thinking about it. He and the others would attack from three directions, killing by surprise and herding the enemy west, instead of forcing them into a trap and fighting them to the last man. The anvil to their hammer, BoShui was tasked with holding the fleeing enemy in place until Fung and the others finished cleaning up the camp, a difficult prospect considering their foes level of skill.

The plan wasnt even in place yet and still so much could go wrong.

Fungs second-in-command, Man Guo Er, Sent a message. Young magistrate, Officer Han is in place and the scouts report the sentries have been dealt with. We await your order.

Nodding in answer, he held his hand up and made a fist, the signal to proceed, Guo Er relaying the order to the other retinues. Moving through the dark forest, Fungs retinue sounded like a rampaging bull to his ears, though it was only his overactive imagination. The enemy isnt used to the forests either, they aren't master woodsmen like the Bekhai. Calm yourself, slow and steady, theyre tired, ready for sleep, believing themselves well protected. The element of surprise lies in your hands, use it to your advantage.

Hefting his partisan in hand, he took comfort in the weight. Thirty-five kilograms, a little excessive considering even the heaviest of mauls usually weighed less than twenty, hed spent months moulding his body to better wield the impressive weapon. Though hed used it on raids before, this was his first time using it without Mentor at his side, and during his first plan set in motion no less, the stakes at hand were enough to paralyze a lesser man with fear.

Luckily, he was no lesser man. He was Tong Da Fung and nothing short of absolute victory would satisfy him.

A shout sounded from the south, some luckless soul stumbling across Dastans forces, and the enemy camp came alive. Well trained, these were worthy foes to test himself against, no barbaric savages of the north, but skilled warriors. His blood igniting within, he lifted his partisan and sounded the charge. To victory!

Light as a feather in his hands, Fungs pole-arm pulped an enemy warrior with a single strike. His pride quickly sapped away as the dead mans comrade erupted in rage, an Aura crashing into Fung and filling him apprehension for a brief second. Standing behind him, Zhu Lis Aura stealthily protected him while beside him, Guo Ers Aura jostled with the multiple Auras of the enemy. The Aspirants were elites, their skills honed through arduous practice, an ascetic lifestyle, and ardent faith, but unused to fighting against soldiers.

Fungs retinue held the best soldiers Shen Huo had to offer.

The metallic whirl of his weapon sang to him as he thrust and swept, slashed and parried, fighting his way into the heart of the camp. Jumping forward, he lunged and brought his weapon in an upward arc, shooting past the guard of an Aspirant and piercing through his head. A single shake of the haft was enough to tear his weapon from the dead mans skull, and with the point held high, he lifted it into a two-handed smash, landing atop another Aspirants braced sword and driving it into his face. Whipping it to the left, he swept two Aspirants off their feet with a satifying crunch of bone.

The Forms spoke to him as he danced with death, spraying blood and viscera around him like a young god. His breath caught as he glimpsed Jia Zian emerging from the north, his face stony as ever. His twin sabers whirled around him, scything down his opponents with ease, the pattern of his twinkling blades barely deviating as he fought, graceful and calm in the midst of chaos. No wet-nurse for him, Jia Zian had his own Aura to protect him and fought alone, killing with impunity as he approached.

To the south, Dastan howled in bestial fury, hacking apart an Aspirant with frenzied urgency, screaming of retribution and reckoning as his axe rose and fell again and again. Though not as impressive as Zian, Dastans soldiers were a cut above when fighting in groups, expertly setting up their leader to strike the killing blow. Two differing styles, one solitary and elegant, the other crude and collective, both rivals worthy of Tong Da Fung.

In time, with hard work and Mentors guidance, he was certain he would surpass them both.

Zian spotted an enemy and charged him, bellowing in challenge to the Sanguine Priestess. Fung leapt to his aid, not out of worry for Zian but because he saw Rains still form slung over the back of her horse. The woman screamed and raved about her duty, carrying out the will of the Mother, but Fung closed his ears to her nonsense and killed his way towards her. Rallying in defence of their Priestess the fanatic Aspirants redoubled their efforts, blocking Fung and Zian without care for their lives while the Priestess rode west into the woods with Rain and a handful of Aspirants.

The battle at the campground ended in mere minutes, the Aspirants dying to the last man to give the Priestess time to escape. Chest heaving as he glanced about the battle-field, Fung bellowed his orders. Any soldiers too wounded to run remain here, the rest with me. Sprinting into the woods, he prayed to the Mother that Han BoShui would carry out his duty and save Rain, maybe even take the Shrike hostage. If not? No matter. The Sanguine Priestess thought she could steal Rain away to torture him to death, but she was wrong. Let her death, and the death of any who dared aid her, be a warning to the world.

Falling Rain, martial nephew of Tong Da Fung, the Unstoppable Tempest, was not to be touched.

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