7 Hushiyi (1)
The sun dipped behind the mountain with its orange glow spreading across on the landscape. Shadows flitted across the bare trees lining the double file horse-path winding along the rocky mountainside. Echoes of galloping horses thundered across the chilly mountain air.
The northern wind rushed past, stinging Hushiyi's face with its iciness and whipping up strands of his long ponytail. The hood on his black fur cloak fell back against the moving air. He sniffed back the liquid leaking from his now reddish nose, a result of windburn.
The steed's powerful muscles tensed and rippled with each stride, kicking away small stones in its path. Hushiyi adjusted his weight and tugged the reins to steer the horse on the path at each turn.
The steed grunted with plumes of white wisps flowing out of its nose in the winter air. He pushed it to exhaustion, riding all the way from the regional capital of Yancheng to the border.
Behind him were two of his personal bodyguards on their horses lagging far behind, struggling to keep up with his racing black war steed.
The Grand Prince's residence came into sight in the late afternoon. A fortified compound with its tall imposing walls, the height of four men. At the two corners of the walls stood the guard towers, cast a shadow on the surrounding terrain.
The tiled roof of the primary residential hall's third floor peeked out from the walls.
"Yuuuuu" He called out, urging his steed to slow down before the final ascent.
The steed threw back its mane and slowed into a trot as he waited for his bodyguards to arrive. None of their horses would come charging in. Theirs were ordinary horses, not a war steed. These breeds fall somewhere in the middle, not the worst nor the best.
His sister had a knack for placing defences in the most unexpected places — a hidden slope with a sharp incline built after the final ascent. If enemy horses came rushing in, the incline prevent their horses from stopping until they smashed into the fortified wall of thick rammed earth.
He raised his hand for his bodyguards to stop. Both men held the reins back to slow their horses down.
"Get off. We walk from here." He dismounted and landed on the ground.
He took the reins of the grunting war steed and led it down the steep path a few hundred paces, where two guards stood above, looking down upon the new arrivals.
"OPEN UP!" One guard yelled.
The guard recognized Hushiyi and gave him a stiff bow. Hushiyi nodded with his arms folded, reigns weaved between his fingers. His steed's front hoof followed the rhythm of the master's foot, tapping on the ground while waiting for the heavy gates to open.
Two men appeared on each side of the gate, pulling the creaking gates open. Hushiyi walked into the opening gate once the partial space allowed his steed through.
He turned left on the double file path between the two rammed earth walls. The path acted as an ambush point for enemies who breached the primary outer fortification. When enemies breached the primary fortification, the hidden archers at the top of both walls would release the arrows to thin their numbers out.
He tugged at the reins of the steed, leading the obedient steed in a brisk walk through the walled maze, followed by his two personal bodyguards and horses. Under the fading light, his eyes could make out the occasional dried flattened horse dung mixed with bits of iced sludge on the open path.
The cold air dampened the odour of the dried piles but not the fresh piles. A whiff of fresh horse dung drew him. Neighs of horses from the stables within the secondary wall grew louder. His steed started to neigh and grunt.
Soon, an overwhelming stench of dung assaulted his nose at the second gate, kept open by the stable master and two stable boys in their patchwork padded winter clothing.
The lanterns hung outside the nearby stables illuminated five restless war steeds moving in their own space separated by wooden slats, scraping their hooves on the ground. Hay and torn blankets laid strewn all over, the sign of the steeds' tantrum throwing.
The stable master and two boys knelt down with their heads lowered on the sandy ground.
"Get up," Hushiyi said before the stable master opened his mouth. "Water, feed and brush all the horses."
The stable master and the boys got up.
He shoved the leather reins into the stable master's hands.
Before his men or the stable master uttered a word, he sprinted up the stairway of the secondary wall, skipping over the scattered iced sludges and running through the walkways lit by candles in their hidden grooves. The stationed archers and patrolling guards bowed.
Hushiyi darted past towards the primary residence hall without acknowledging their greeting. One thing remained on his head — he must confirm Yinyue's condition.
For the past few two nights, he dreamt of her limp body, all bloodied and her face gaunt. She laid dying, taking her final breath in the arms of her senior bodyguard, 01. He never seen Luoran before, but in the nightmare, the city had heavy fortifications built around it.
The nightmare always replayed itself without fail whenever her injuries were serious. Was it an omen?
His eyes reddened at the thought of the brief message sent — 'Grand Prince serious injuries.'
No details added.
He swung himself and leaped down from the wall, shocking two passing maid-servants carrying items to place away before dusk. Plates crashing and a dull thud of a bucket falling on the ground as he blazed through the dim interconnecting corridors. The residential guards jumped aside as he rushed through.
Nothing was more important than his little sister.
Thoughts of her in pain and dying in the nightmare kept repeating through his mind. She almost died a few times before. How bad are her injuries? Was she conscious or unconscious?
Will she die?
If she did, he'll never forgive her for abandoning him.
All the worse scenarios ran through his head, propelling him towards the entryway of her primary residence surrounded by armoured guards. He needed to see her.
"My PRINCE, YOU CAN'T—"
Hushiyi pushed the guard in his way who tried to block his way with outstretched arm. The guard flew to the side and landed with a thud while the others watched him rush through the door, only to trip on the high wooden doorsill.
His instinctual flip on a miscalculated step caused him to crash on the silk screen separating the resting area from the entry hall.
He looked and saw the exposed back of his sister lying sideways on the canopy bed under the candlelight.
His eyes widened at two red, raw gaping wounds on Yinyue's upper back, adding to the raised scars earned from each slash, stab or arrow received — a record of battles etched on her skin.
By the bedside, a familiar middle-aged woman holding a small opened clay vial bent over in a stunned pose, staring at him. Both knew each other. The lady, Ayi, was one of her four lady physicians.
His trembling finger pointed at Yinyue's back and opened his mouth, but couldn't say a thing. It was the first time he saw his younger sister's back.
Ayi recovered from the shock and straightened up. She drew the curtain at the side of the canopy, shielding Yinyue from his stare.
"I-is she…," he said and gulped.
A flush of warm blood rushed to his face, making it tingle. What the hell has he just seen?
"She's fine," Ayi replied. "Just sleeping from the drug I gave. But you shouldn't be here."
"Huh?" He looked up at her calm face, still sitting on his bottom.
"You are her brother, but both are no longer children. Modesty?" Ayi explained with warm maternal patience. "You know…separation of grown men and women?"
Realizing what she meant, Hushiyi scrambled to his feet and fled out of the room.
Ayi shook her head and muttered with her arms akimbo, "Damn kid."
