18
Hidden in a high crevice, Mulan looked down at the ridge where the Rouran army prepared their attack. As she watched, one of the men shouted orders, sending some soldiers toward the edge of the ridge with bows and arrows while others loaded a large, heavy boulder onto the trebuchet. Groaning with effort, the men moved it into position so that it was aimed at the valley—and the Imperial soldiers—below.
Taking a moment to make sure she was ready, Mulan looked in front of her. The helmets she had taken from the battlefield were lined up in a row. Black Wind was safely hidden. She was ready. Lifting her bow, she turned and took aim at the Rourans.
Her first arrow flew through the air. There was a surprised cry as an invader fell to the ground. Then another. And another. It didn’t take long for the soldiers to notice what was happening. One turned, and Mulan saw him scan the ridge where she was hiding. Spotting the Imperial helmets, he let out an angry cry. Shouting new orders, he had his men turn their attention from the valley. The trebuchet was moved until it, too, was pointed toward the mountain where Mulan stood, hidden from view.
At the leader’s signal, the Rourans fired arrows at the row of Imperial helmets, unaware that they were nothing but empty shells, dummies to trick the enemy. When it appeared that the Imperial soldiers were unharmed, the Rourans grew angrier. Their attention turned to the trebuchet. Mulan watched and waited, hoping she had planned correctly.
A moment later, the group of invaders lit the fuel-covered boulder that sat in its perch on the trebuchet. Instantly, the boulder ignited, bursting into flame. The invaders released the trebuchet.
As the flaming boulder flew, Mulan held her breath. The rock was huge and heavy, and even though it had been propelled with great force, it seemed to move in slow motion across the sky. For Mulan’s plan to work, she needed the boulder to fly strong and true.
Closer and closer the boulder flew until, with a loud boom, it slammed into the snowy mountainside behind her. The noise of the impact echoed down the mountain and over the valley floor below. The Imperial Army, appearing as small as ants from Mulan’s perch high above, seemed to pause as the sound reached them. Mulan waited, listening. She reached down and put her hand to the ground.
She felt it. Just the smallest of vibrations, but it was enough to tell her that her plan had worked.
Not waiting to see the result of the avalanche that had already begun to roll from its peak, Mulan took off running. She tripped and slid down the hard-packed snow, the ground shaking more violently as the avalanche became stronger.
Mulan heard the invaders’ shouts as the rumbling grew louder, and then the shouts turned to terrified screams as behind her a wall of white appeared. It barreled toward them, unmindful of which army it destroyed in its path. The snow, long still, was now a freed beast, eating anything in its way. Feeling the wind from the avalanche behind her, Mulan picked up speed. But the snow kept coming. She whistled loudly, and Black Wind appeared. He raced to her side, and just before the snow engulfed her, she leapt onto the horse’s back.
Together, they galloped ahead of the avalanche as it nipped at Black Wind’s hooves. Behind her, the invading army was not as lucky. Without horses, and weighed down by armor, they disappeared into the wall of white.
Mulan didn’t spare them a thought. She just kept riding, worry and fear growing in her stomach. When she had thought of her plan, she had forgotten one vital part: that she couldn’t control the snow. She had wanted the avalanche to take out the enemy, and it had, but she hadn’t thought through what would happen after that. Now the snow was heading straight toward the Imperial Army. And it wasn’t slowing down.
Urging Black Wind on, Mulan saw the faces of the Imperial soldiers grow clearer as she made her way farther down the mountainside. She watched in horror as the runaway trebuchet tumbled down, end over end, before landing with a crash—right on top of Cricket. Her scream caught in her throat as she watched Honghui race over and push the trebuchet off his friend. Shoving Cricket to safety, Honghui got to his feet only to be hit with a wave of snow that sucked him down.
Mulan didn’t hesitate. Slamming her legs against Black Wind’s sides and yanking on the reins, she turned the protesting horse in the direction of the snow. As he struggled to move toward where Honghui had disappeared, Black Wind snorted with the effort. He could barely stay atop the snow, and on his back, Mulan struggled to remain atop him.
Suddenly, Mulan spotted Honghui’s arm reaching up through the snow. Extending her arm, she managed to grasp his hand in hers and then, with the last of her strength, she pulled him onto Black Wind’s back. He lay limp in the saddle, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. Turning Black Wind once more, Mulan galloped ahead. As the land leveled out, the rushing snow began to slow, then stopped altogether.
The avalanche had ended.
In the silence that followed, Mulan brought Black Wind to a halt. Beneath her, the horse’s sides heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. He had saved her—and Honghui. Reaching down, she gave him a grateful pat on the neck. Then she slid down to the ground.
With effort, she managed to get Honghui’s unconscious body off the horse. Laying him down gently, she looked at him for a long moment, watching as his chest rose and fell. He was alive. At least she had saved him.
Hearing shouts from the other men who were coming free from their shock, Mulan gave Honghui one last lingering look. She wanted to stay to make sure he was really going to be okay, but she needed to make sure that was the end of the Rouran attacks. Turning, she disappeared into the fog.
Honghui’s whole body hurt. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was lying near the rest of the Imperial Army. His head pounded, and when he went to stand, his legs nearly gave out from under him. The last thing he remembered was getting Cricket to safety. Then there had been a curtain of white. The next thing he knew, he was waking up on the ground.
But at least he had woken up. He had the oddest feeling, almost a memory tugging at him, that someone had helped him, though he knew that was impossible. Only the craziest of people would have run into the avalanche. Shaking off the thought, he made his way over to Commander Tung. As he approached, he heard Cricket calling out.
“Has anyone seen Hua Jun?” Cricket asked, his eyes scanning the area.
Hearing Cricket’s worried question, Honghui saw Commander Tung take notice as well. His battle-weary eyes searched the men. Spotting Honghui instead, he called him over. “Have you seen Hua Jun?” Commander Tung asked.
Honghui shook his head, a pit growing in his stomach. Had Hua Jun been swallowed by the snow? Or lost to an invader’s arrow before the avalanche had even begun?
One of the soldiers gave a shout. Turning, Honghui spotted a figure silhouetted in the distance. The fog made it hard to make out the details, but as the figure came closer, Honghui inhaled sharply. It was the woman warrior he had seen in battle. There was no doubt about it. Her long hair flowed out behind her as she rode across the valley atop her giant horse.
“Black Wind?”
Hearing Cricket, Honghui turned, startled, to find the young soldier now right next to him. He was staring at the warrior as well.
Black Wind?
Honghui repeated silently. What was Cricket talking about? Black Wind was Hua Jun’s horse. His mouth dropped open as the rider burst free from the snowy mist and fog right in front of them. The horse she rode was Black Wind. But if the horse was Black Wind, that meant the woman riding him was . . .
“Hua Jun?” Commander Tung said, putting voice to Honghui’s thoughts.
The female warrior shook her head as she dismounted her horse. “I am Hua Mulan,” she said, her voice strong, steady—and feminine.
Honghui’s head snapped back and forth between Commander Tung and the soldier he had known as Hua Jun. The commander’s face grew pale and the slightest of tremors shook his hand as he stared at Mulan. Honghui could see—and understand—the struggle Commander Tung was under as he grappled with what was happening.
Mulan saw it, too. She straightened up, keeping her expression stoic. But Honghui saw the unease creeping into her body. Her shoulders fell just slightly; her hand quivered briefly. The proud warrior she had been was beginning to fade under the horrified gaze of Commander Tung.
Beside Honghui, Cricket gasped as he made the connection. “He’s a girl . . . ?” Cricket said, shaking his head. The other soldiers mumbled and muttered under their breath as well, shocked by what they were seeing and hard-pressed to believe it. Honghui listened, his rage building. Hua Jun had lied to him. He, or rather she, had been able to tell him what to say to a woman not because she had spoken to one, but because she was one! He had allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of her, and she had even beaten him in battle—more than once. His cheeks grew red as he remembered the lake.
Meanwhile, Commander Tung’s expression had grown icy. “You are an imposter,” he hissed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “You have betrayed your regiment.” Mulan hung her head in shame. Commander Tung went on. “You have brought disgrace to the Hua family.”
His words cut Mulan like a sword through her heart. Her head flew up. There was nothing worse he could say. “Commander . . .” she begged.
The commander didn’t let her finish. “Your deceit is my shame,” he went on. “When we return to the capital, I will yield my command.”
A shocked murmur moved through the soldiers. Resignation? That was nearly unheard of! Commander Tung’s career spanned decades. He was one of the most powerful and well-known commanders in all the Imperial Army. Yet he would turn his back on it because of Mulan’s deception? The men looked back and forth between the pair. Mulan may have helped them defeat the Rourans in this fight, but was the victory worth losing their leader? As the murmurs grew louder, Sergeant Qiang stepped forward.
“What is the punishment assigned to this imposter?” he asked.
Commander Tung didn’t hesitate. “Expulsion.”
At this, the murmurs grew louder, horror mixing with fear at the very word. Honghui saw Mulan shake her head. She took a step toward her commander, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I would rather be executed,” she said.
The commander ignored her, turning his back to her. Sergeant Qiang, stepping forward, took a deep breath, and as everyone listened, he formally sentenced her. “From this moment forward,” he said, “you are expelled from the Emperor’s Imperial Army.”
As the sergeant’s words slammed into Mulan, her body seemed to shrink into itself. Her eyes lost their light. Honghui watched, his emotions running rampant. Mulan deserved this. She had lied to them all, put every single one of them at risk. She had messed with his head—and his heart. But he still couldn’t help thinking she had been recklessly brave to do what she had done. To walk among the army and risk exposure at every turn. But she had done it. And she had excelled at it. She had even saved them. All of them.
He shook his head, hardening his heart. It didn’t matter. Not now. She had been expelled. She would spend the rest of her days alone and ashamed.
Mulan gathered Black Wind’s reins and walked away, keeping her eyes on the ground, too ashamed to make eye contact with any of the soldiers. Honghui watched her go until she was just a speck on the horizon. Hua Jun, he realized as he turned and made his way over to his comrades, was no more. It was as it should be.
But if it was as it should be, Honghui wondered, why did it feel so wrong?
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