Disclaimer: I do not own Disney's 'Mulan'.

Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant, Trackula, and Jazzqueen


Dragon and Horse

Chapter One

"Seventeen Years On"

Night hung over the hills; the half moon was bright but most of the stars were hidden. Not far off, the fires of two armies burned on opposing sides of the dark band of the river. The camps were more distant than they looked in the deceiving darkness, and the river not so deep as it appeared at this time of year.

Thankfully, the quirks of the river were local knowledge, and even then, the Huns of the deep steppes were said to be people who understood little about water.

The guard turned the spear in his left hand, hoping the motion would distract him from his weariness. The torch beside him was planted the ground; in this spot it should not be visible, he had been told. Not that he was worried about being spotted – the Huns were on the other side of the stream, and he was hidden in the stand of scrub and stunted trees. He was only here as a matter of course. To keep an eye out and pull out the torch and wave it if he spotted bandits trying to sneak up to the supply train. Worst night watch ever – the torch did not really provide any relief from the last gasps of the faded winter.

Strictly speaking, he knew he was not even supposed to light the torch yet, but he had already endured enough discomfort for the Prince, and tomorrow he would be facing the Huns.

Even if the commander said a woman was leading the enemy, rumor had it Hachin was here. Huns were bad enough, but a one-eyed witch was even worse. He had heard plenty of stories of her over the tavern fires, told a few in turn. Hard to believe someone from the stories could be real.

Legends were things of the distant past, just like prophecies were anchored in the uncertain futures that men who did not have to live by the sweat of the day obsessed over. If Hachin was real… well, he wondered if he would remember to be afraid?

He was contemplating taking a piss when a bird flew out of the dark right at him. It hit him in the chest, beak going right through the boiled leather he wore. Stumbling back at the impact, he swatted at the bird, only to realize it was an arrow.

He was too surprised to be frightened as he went to his knees, marveling that the archer had shot him through the thick scrub and not the opening.

X X X

Hachin let out a war cry, pitched high and haunting. Women could rarely match a man's war cry, so it was better to simply take their own. Pulling another torch from her saddlebag, she galloped past a burning wagon, lighting the oiled rag wrapped around the wood.

Spotting an intact wagon, she hurled the torch onto the canvas-covered structure.

The enemy was poorly organized against a rear assault. The enemy commander was a foolish royal, after all. She wondered if there were real warriors here, gritting their teeth while feeling vindicated?

Seeing a squad of spearmen emerge, led by a man in half armor wielding a sword, Hachin spurred her horse toward them. The spearmen did not form up – two scattered, while one even made an unskilled throw. Hachin deflected the only true spear strike with her father's sword.

The officer fell into a stance, but then his eyes widened – perhaps he expected her to ride beside him to strike with her sword.

He was young; he would not get older to learn better, as Min trampled him before he could either correct his stance or leap aside.

She did not stop – a lightning raid was not a battle, it was meant to be over before the enemy found his feet and leave him stunned and terrified. The enemy's terror was palpable; they had not been ready.

A familiar war cry turned the Queen's thoughts from the enemy. Was that…?

She spurred Min through the chaos and flames, warriors and spear wives on horseback spreading fire and death. It was too easy to find the one she sought, the horse was too familiar and the warrior, even with a battle scarf around her head…

The fighting was thickest here. The Queen watched, as she approached, the woman cut off a spearhead and almost casually slash the spearman in the face. Not an instant kill, but the man would not fight again tonight even if he lived, or tomorrow.

"Zaya!" Hachin called. The head snapping around confirmed it. With a gesture, her daughter obeyed, following her out. Gritting her teeth, Hachin pulled the goat horn from her belt and blew into it.

The sound of the horn echoed through the din of battle.

Time to withdraw. When the sun rose, they would finish breaking this army with the main host.

Later:

Hachin sat in the command tent, an unremarkable structure, lacking the comforts or comforting decoration of her own ger. Like the other war tents, it was all about becoming swiftly packed and carried. Death riding on the wind.

The reports her officers gave her were as expected. The enemy force had fled; they had not been broken in battle, but the raid to the rear had shattered the Prince's levies. The real soldiers had fought well, but when an army begins to fall apart in fear it takes a skilled commander to save it.

The Prince's brother was not such a commander. The greatest difficulty had been the Turkmen horsemen acting as support. It was not their city they fought for, but they had honor for their contracts.

A pointless conflict, but one necessary to fight. A border city breaks its tributary status to the Confederation, taking a lighter pact with a middling Turkmen nation of the local steppes with it. Not a major city, but one noteworthy enough to host its own royalty and not be mocked by all for it.

Minor in and of itself, but the precedent could not be allowed to stand. Bataar suspected the Prince had gambled on the Huns not seeing his city as worthy of a war. Hachin found that difficult to swallow, but the Prince had come to power three years ago in a palace coup against his uncle.

And so he had tried to solidify his rule with bold moves. And his people paid the price for his poor moves in the games of rulers.

Fortunately, the war would end soon. She was confident the Turkmen khan and the better part of the Prince's elite had been defeated to the south by Bataar's host. The Prince could hold out in the city, the men they had defeated would be running there to help man the walls.

But his realm was not just the city. The peasant villages, the modestly walled towns following the shallow rivers that made the land arable, the nobles' estates, the wealth of many of the families of his court – all were fair game for the Huns while they trapped the Prince behind his own walls.

He could hide behind the walls, but if he did, his people would find a new prince in short order. And so a pointless war that was still necessary to the Huns' power being preserved would end.

The Hun Confederation had grown in every direction, save against China, this last decade. Hachin disliked the idea of invasions, but as Bataar and Coyot had both proven time and again, the world was a hard place, and it was through strength you could instill peace and order to some degree. Military endeavors were part of the Hun way, and these successes secured her family's future as nothing else could.

The peoples of the Steppes and the surrounding lands did not have traditions of obedience like the Chinese did to the Mandate of Heaven. They followed their own paths, or they followed strength.

This war being swiftly won would prevent far more deaths in numerous other rebellions inspired by any perceived success. More families ruined for the pride and greed of old men.

Coming out of her thoughts, she dismissed the others; she had heard enough. The collection of male officers and the two ranking spear wives in her company departed silent. Zaya stayed, sitting by the tent flap, brown eyes hidden in the shadow of the fire.

Finally Hachin spoke to her second-born child.

"You disobeyed me."

"Disobedience aided the battle, I was correct in questioning your orders," Zaya said. She met her mother's eyes steadily.

Hachin repressed a sigh, this would not go well – her eldest daughter was not the least bit repentant.

"It is not a question of my orders' validity – you disobeyed a direct order to remain behind as a guard. A fitting position for a talented but inexperienced warrior.

"You may have fought well, but you did nothing that would not have been achieved otherwise," the Queen told her. Zaya scowled at her; Hachin was grateful the teenager remained seated.

"I was ready to bloody my blade. I have been ready; these pathetic soldiers were as fine a quarry as any for that. And we both know I displayed uncommon skill, not in just training but in battle. The attack would not have been as effective in my absence.

"Can you deny this?" Zaya demanded.

"No.

"But your presence was not necessary. You asked that you be treated as a spear maiden rather than a princess under my command. That means obeying orders you dislike. If you cannot grasp that, no amount of martial skill will make you a true warrior of the Huns," Hachin snapped. She knew she was losing her grip on her temper. She thanked the spirits that only one of her children could vex her so.

"That is a basket of horse apples. You sent your nieces into battle before this, into greater danger. And they had far less skill than me. Only you and Father can still best me with the blade in our tribe. I was ready, you held me back.

"I am tired of-" Zaya said, scowling.

"Be silent, foolish child.

"Yes, you displayed great skill. It will be spoken of now – word will spread of the Shan-Yu and Hachin's eldest daughter being a great warrior. Perhaps even praising your daring in defying me.

"And they will, then, think of the Crown Prince. Your own elder brother, who has yet to distinguish himself in battle.

"Men whisper against him. They call him weak, unfit for the mantle. And now they will mock him as being weaker than his younger sister.

"I brought you here hoping distance would ease the tension between you two while he prepared to formally be anointed as Crown Prince. Instead, your disobedience has struck a blow against the royal family.

"All for the sake of your easily injured pride!" Hachin snapped. She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. She heard her daughter rise to her feet, and opened her eyes.

Zaya had that look in her eyes again. It was becoming too common.

"He looks weak because he is weak. I have shamed him, not the family. I have brought honor to my father's name because his first born never will. And I will not hide my strength to make him look strong," Zaya stated.

"Leave your sword. As punishment for the trip back you will act as a horse handler," Hachin ordered.

Zaya gave her a tooth-filled mirthless grin, and drew her curved sword, dropping the blade on the floor canvas. Zaya swept out, swift and silent as a cat, her mother never taking her eyes off of her.

When she was alone, Hachin allowed the sigh. Words had been spoken now; she had not expected Zaya to go so far. Perhaps she should have? Bataar would have seen this coming, so would Ulai, she expected. Not that Ulai knowing would have helped matters.

Hachin hated to resort to this, but now it seemed she would have to bring the matter to her husband. Hachin could only hope he would find a way to mend the breach growing between their respective favorites.

X X X

Dinner was all wrong, Chien Po had to admit, despite the whole family being gathered in their almost cramped but cozy dinning room. Like the rest of the house, it was not fancy, but the decorations mostly supplied by either him or his wife made it… nice. For him, it was the best place to enjoy a meal.

Qianru had prepared pork tonight; that had not been the plan last night. His favorite pork dish too, on short notice. It was delicious; it was he who could not enjoy it.

Though only young Ping, six years old now, seemed to be enjoying the delicious meal at all. And even he was glancing about from his sisters, to his mother, and to his father. He knew something was wrong.

A cloud had followed them to the table. Chien Po had seen its like before, a lifetime ago. Then as now, it's coming had been heralded by the watchtower drum. The drums to signal the approach of outsiders. Different beats long established for everything from traders, to bandits, to the unknown. And heralds of the government.

He had left his workbench, curious. They were off the beaten path; news would only come to them when someone seated high declared a message was to be passed to every town. He had wondered if the Emperor had finally gotten the second son that rumor had it he so desired to secure the dynasty?

That would mean a small festival, a nice diversion for a small town such as this.

When a blue-robed official rode down the main street flanked by two soldiers on horseback, Chien Po had known.

It was different, yet exactly the same. The difference, no reason was offered. When one foolish woodcutter had asked if there was an invasion, the official had snapped at him.

"The Emperor commands it, you need know nothing more." Chien Po was certain in that moment he could recall exactly how Chifu had sounded. He had taken a moment to wonder if the old courtier still lived. How old had he been back then?

Another difference, the terms.

Two men from each family, or a single veteran. Qianru had grabbed his arm; she was soft, she smelled faintly of the kitchen beneath the smell of suds. She had been scrubbing the floors, the furniture had been moved around to make room this morning, he had recalled.

She had gotten plumper since Ping was born; it suited her wonderfully, he thought. And she was so much more at ease, a tension that had once almost escaped his notice having departed, leaving her so content.

She was so much more than a good cook. And she had reminded him of his male kinsmen – Ping was too young, of course, but Chien Po's own brothers were certainly old enough, and envious of his service and veteran status.

"You have done your part, Huan-Yue needs you to take part in the matchmaking," she whispered.

That was right, it was already time to start looking for a potential husband. She was too young to marry still, but it was time to explore their options. The matchmaker could only recommend, it would be up to him to inspect the boys' record as individuals, their lineage, and the company they kept.

It was important.

His brothers would be thrilled – they would march off to follow in his footsteps, confident in the glory to come. Good men both, husbands working the fields. He had nephews and nieces these days. He could see them both giving him a last look, so confident, and a bit vindicated as they went off to war.

Those eyes had not seen what he had.

"I am Chien Po, veteran. I will serve the Emperor once more," he had had to free his arm gently to step forward and take the scroll. The soldier holding it was clean-shaven, of an age with him. The man had given him a slight nod, approval?

"It's not too late, father," Mi, his sweet little girl, spoke up.

"That is true, but I have made this choice," he answered her. She bit her lip, and looked to her older sister for guidance. Huan-Yue did not meet anyone's eyes, stirring her food about the plate with the chopsticks.

Chien Po almost admonished her for that habit as usual, that nonsense about thin waists had been getting to her. Bad enough on its own, but as the elder sister, her actions set an example for Mi.

But, this was not a moment for such fine concerns. She was not speaking to anyone.

"You never speak of it, husband. You speak of the men you knew. Of the cliff carving you saw by the river, and the splendor of the capital. But you never speak of the war itself," his wife said. He looked to her; her lip was trembling, he wanted to get up from his spot and hold her until she could feel like everything would be all right.

He could not do that. Instead he looked to his son, oddly enough he was thinking the boy would be the smallest of his children, his own round face but he did not seem to have the look of size that his sisters had had at that age. Ping would not be small, but he would not stand out for his size, Chien Po thought.

They were starting to make him nervous, his dear boy.

"No, I never do speak of it.

"I have some time before I have to leave. I must finish the cabinet, and find someone to take on the other commissions Deshi is not ready for," he told them, getting up. He had not thought about his apprentice. Had he been called to service as well?

Who would take up the load as the men were called to war once more? Yet another question he had no ready answer for.

The Imperial City:

Emperor Long looked out on the palace grounds from his balcony. Spring was upon them; alas, the stench of the city beyond the palace could still reach him. The one virtue of winter as a season was the snow and ice burying the stench of the commoners.

But other senses could be delighted. His extension of the palace grounds had improved its splendor with gardens far finer than those of his grandfather.

Yes, he had put a great deal of money into the palace and capital, to reflect the greater status of the site as its domain expanded.

"One day, Chifu, from this place the Han dynasty will command all the world. The imperial ideal, an imperial reality," Emperor Long sighed. He did not listen to his Chief Counselor's words; he had heard them before.

The capital had been a fine start, something to show his progress for all these years spent preparing for the true beginning of his reign.

Oh yes, he had reigned these last years, but it still felt as if he lived in his grandfather's era. Despite cleaning out the old wood of timid courtiers and ministers his grandfather had surrounded himself with. Timid counters of rice and poets that cared more for words than action. His own court was of men of strength and vitality, and men like Chifu, eager to help grand visions become reality.

The work had not been without its price. He had to compromise to get what he wanted from the great houses, cede them certain privileges and rights for their cooperation. Objections to that had revealed, as Chifu had predicted, other small-minded men infesting the court.

He was not blind to their anxiety, but the truth was, he was Emperor. If his subjects misused his gifts, he would simply take them back later as easily as he would have his servants chastise his own children for poor behavior. What was important was that after all these years, the illusion of his grandfather's legacy could be respectfully retired.

One grand era had ended, and a grander had begun. His era.

Chifu followed him back into the palace and through the sweet-scented corridors. He let his steps quicken; an Emperor should maintain his dignity, but a true man was eager to see his ambitions come to fruition.

The campaign room… his grandfather had neglected it for more than a decade, preferring to leave it to the Generals and receive updates from his throne. Long was not so sedentary.

The many maps of the known world had always fascinated him. As a child, it had been how he had first learned the whole of the earth was not subject to China.

General Li was waiting for him. His favorite general, despite the lie at the root of the living legend's reputation. In fact, that was part of the reason he liked Li – he was a man who understood the big picture. And the General was so eager to advance the destiny of China.

The General and the other officers bowed as their Emperor approached the map table they were gathered around.

"General Li, all proceeds as planned?" The Emperor asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty, reports indicate we are indeed regaining a large number of veterans for the banners.

"The only flaw so far is that it seems the Huns dealt with the rebellion we bought quicker than expected. It seems Hachin herself actually accompanied her husband and led a second, smaller force with great effectiveness," the General reported. He indicated that insignificant half-barbarian city on the map.

The Emperor wished he were more surprised – it was a weak race they had called on, that they should be thrashed by a woman was no great revelation.

"I was under the impression spear wives acted more as some kind of perverted militia. Not battle commanders," Emperor Long stated.

"That is true, but Queen Hachin has apparently expanded their role. Not as units of female soldiers, but mixing the elite spear wives with male units, some seem to even act as officers," General Li stated.

"Heh, savages. No doubt these so-called women soldiers service their men quite well, free of charge," a Colonel snickered. The Emperor glared at him, despite some agreement.

"I was speaking with General Li, Colonel. Have you equal rank to offer commentary?" the Emperor demanded. He did not acknowledge the apology. He would have Chifu make note of the man; everyone must be mindful of their place, after all.

"So, the traitor whore can indeed lead some men. What does this mean for us?" the Emperor asked.

"It means the post-war summit will begin sooner than expected. Even a minor war like this might call the relevant chieftains together for reports and promotions. But with the Shan-Yu's eldest son, Tianlinn, to be anointed as heir, they will seize an excuse to observe their future ruler.

"Our strategy calls for drawing these leaders into war while the greater Hun strength is spread throughout their expanded borders. In response to this rebellion, the Huns will be minding their vassals and tributaries in force for some time.

"Past invasions have failed because the Steppes are inhospitable to armies like ours. Foraging is difficult, and the Huns have no cities or even towns to defend or be drawn into battle for. The Huns could avoid battle and let the very land and weather sap our strength until they chose to give battle.

"But the strategy created in accord with our Exiled Hun allies will force them into battle on our terms," General Li reiterated.

"And the new Shan-Yu we install shall be our puppet and vassal, aiding us in grinding the Steppes clean," Chifu added.

The Emperor smiled at the thought. The threat of the Xiongu extinguished forever – it would already have been happening had that whore not killed the enlightened King Unegan. By all accounts, he had been a man who understood the majesty of and importance of China, despite his race.

Another of his grandfather's tragic mistakes, to have not sealed a pact with that man when given a chance. 'A man who would betray his own is a man only a fool would make a pact with,' the old Emperor had thought on the matter. Such sentiments were wasted when contemplating barbarians. Men who lay with horses were not men as they were.

Feeling a moment of power, the Emperor looked over those assembled and spoke.

"Yes, our Grand Imperial Army, swollen by the veterans and recruits, shall be the greatest force the world has ever seen. The captured sword of Shan-Yu shall be carried north to take the head of Bataar and end his bloodline forever.

"But the witch traitor Hachin… you will deliver her to me alive, General Li. Bearing sons for the enemy of her people betrayed all of China. And her acts against the nature of her own sex have shamed the honor of China. She must face judgment, here before the Son of Heaven and the people of the Middle Kingdom.

"Bring her to me with the heads of her mongrels, General. Naked, chained, and disgraced before my throne, that is how her story will end," the Emperor said, stepping up to face the stoic warrior.

Expression chiseled and unreadable, the General went to one knee.

"By your command, Your Majesty, my army shall break the north and end this cycle of chaos," the General stated. The Emperor paused, having expected a simple yes, but as usual the General had a knack for surprising him in pleasing ways.

"We must have surprise on our side, even if the enemy is moving quicker. Chifu, see to it word of the assemblage does not reach the trade towns – I remind you that unsavory methods are authorized. General, you will move the recruits out three weeks earlier than planned. The new troops can learn on the march from the veterans.

"Destiny is upon us, we must not let the chance pass us by!" the Emperor declared, crossing his hands behind his back.

X X X

Ulai stepped out of the royal ger into the spring sunlight, closing the door behind her. As usual, the first to leave the meeting, as the youngest in attendance. Besides the acting chieftain, of course.

Her status and reputation saw her way cleared for her. The air was jovial, word spreading of the swift victory in the west. Ulai let her own pale lips pull into a smile; her Zaya was a blooded warrior now, glorious.

What's more, it had become clear more spear wives now looked to her than Oyunbileg in the Queen's absence. The one-eyed Hun was getting older, and her sour wit was little in comparison with Ulai's natural dramatic charisma. And the fact the girls were more impressed with a woman who had been touched by the darkest spirits and still lived, rather than a mere eye lost in a battle before many of them were born.

The resentment the power shift was bringing was sad, but the two warrior women had not been friends for some time. Like with the Queen, Ulai had lost affection for the one-eyed widow when it became clear they were committed to the weakling.

She could and did forgive the Shan-Yu refusing to accept his son's inadequacy for the mantle. A good man could never readily accept his sons were worthless, but it was a woman's place to have more sense.

Even in this meeting, the boy let them lead him by the nose. Zaya would not have been so pliable – her fierce little wolf would be eager to make her mark. Challenging and testing boundaries, and daring them to disobey just to see what happened.

The boy thought too much and acted too little. Boke was four years younger and it was abundantly clear he would be more of man than his brother would ever be.

Speaking of which, Ulai spotted him nearby, stopping to observe. She watched him wrestle with some other boys nearby in the shadow of a ger. That was how it should be! Broad shouldered boys putting that budding strength to use in play before they put it into use in work and war.

The fact the big-for-his-age boy was winning was just an extra strip of meat in the meal. Tianlinn, Zhu, had never been properly interested in such fine things as the fight and the hunt. Always with questions, and that reading habit of his.

Watching Boke actually toss a smaller boy and bearing his teeth in a smile… the resemblance to his father was clear as a cloudless day. Much like how his older brother looked too much like his mother. It was trouble when your first-born son was prettier than the first-born daughter.

Still, soon Zaya would be back, and the rite would prove, finally, that the weakling had no right to ever lead the Huns.

The albino stalked toward her own tent, surrounded by poles displaying the skulls of animals. Her father had taught her well to cultivate an image. And how to hold power beyond titles, to bypass a need to assert your control by convincing the people that to even test your power was pointless and madness.

It would be nice to see him again, and her mother. She could count on their support in ensuring a proper line of succession.

But for now, she would just wait, and bask in the glory her girl had won, and the shame it brought to the wolf-eyed Han in their midst. Acting rashly had cost her any influence with Hachin, and damaged her standing with Shan-Yu Bataar. But failure was a fine teacher; her eagerness now easily tempered with patience.

Likely all would not go according to plan, but her parents, and Hachin, had shown her how to improvise. She lay down on her favorite pelt, weapons laid beside her in place of a husband that would never be, and settled into peaceful thoughts about good days well lived.

The Imperial City:

Chifu made his way to the throne room, wishing his day could be done already. He was not a young man, and serving a young Emperor was quite different from an elderly one.

He missed old Feng – the man could be a puzzlement, even an eccentric, in his concerns for the commoners, but there had been a certain… dependability to the old ruler.

Still, it was the way of the world that he pass on and a new ruler make their own mark. And Chifu's position had improved markedly. Feng may have appreciated his skills, but with Long, there was a genuine value and fondness at work. He was certain Emperor Feng would never have given him his due over those pesky rivals Long had so graciously removed from the court.

Still, high station was demanding, and so was this Emperor. And some of the trends he had been quietly observing in the aristocracy and court made him wary on certain long-term interests…

But he was near retirement, with immense wealth and honor. Such future concerns would be for Emperor Long, and Chifu's successor, to deal with, while he enjoyed well-kept country estates, well-paid concubines, and lesser officials begging for his endorsement to advance their own careers.

Soon, he assured himself, as the guards opened the way for him into the majestic throne room. It was one of the few official chambers the Emperor had yet to "improve". Chifu hoped he never would – the chamber had housed five Emperors in its history, more impressive than more golden dragon murals, intricate enamel, and tile work.

He saw Counselor Dai was already standing before the Emperor. Leave it to that suck-up to arrive so quickly, Chifu thought.

Dai was a short man, naturally round in body and face, eyes seeming to always be squinting beneath bushy eyebrows. He looked quite comical in his hat of office, and the too-thin beard surrounding his mouth laughable with his fat cheeks. A mockable-looking man if ever there was one, Chifu thought. Still the man had some skills, for all his distasteful "hands on approach".

What was the point of high station if you had to things yourself like a peasant?

"Ah, Chifu, my able Chief Counselor, welcome. I am sorry to keep you from your needed rest at this hour," Emperor Long said. Apparently he was in one of those benevolent moods. Good, but that could turn on it heels quickly.

"I am ready to serve my Emperor at all hours, Your Majesty."

Long nodded, accepting the words, and gestured to Dai.

"I have just assigned Counselor Dai to accompany General Li on the campaign. His time as a slave to the Huns has provided much intelligence. As you no doubt recall, he has even seen the face of Hachin, informing us she does in fact have both eyes and instead has a horrid scar on her face.

"While the good counselor has provided his commentary at length, I believe his first-hand experience and other talents will make him very useful to General Li," the Emperor said. Dai smiled and bowed deeply at the waist, lacing his short fingers together.

"I am pleased to be of service, Your Majesty. But I admit I am eager to witness my former captors laid low. My dear cousin was killed in the raid that took me, and I endured many indignities as their chattel. To aid in their destruction is my duty and pleasure in vengeance," Dai reported.

Chifu frowned slightly, glancing at the man. He was ever pleasant, even now when speaking of personal vendettas. And flawlessly courteous. Chifu did not like him, despite valuing him as an underling.

The fat little suck-up was no doubt after his job. Well, he was welcome to the north – Chifu still had nightmares about the horrid conditions of his own time on the campaign trail. Assuming Dai even made it back, by then Chifu would likely be out of the game and the little man was welcome to join the scramble for favor.

"A wise choice, Your Majesty, I have every confidence in Dai's fortitude in the face of this great duty. Surely he will show the mettle and dignity of the Imperial Counselors in this war as I did in my turn," Chifu said graciously, smiling at the little man magnanimously.

"I am pleased you approve, and it is fitting you would bring up your own experience," Emperor Long said, smiling.

Chifu looked up at the enthroned figure; he had just felt his good cheer diminish a bit.

"I greatly regret that I cannot lead this expedition myself. The people should know their Emperor, the Son of Heaven, fears nothing. But my duty ties me to the throne. And I face another dilemma in your imminent retirement. Your years of long service warrant a grand reward, yet I wonder how to reward you beyond what you have already received."

"Ah, Your Majesty there is no need-"

"But there is. Chief Counselor Chifu, I hereby name you as the Representative of the Court, empowered to speak with my own voice in this war with the Hun Confederation. You shall accompany Counselor Dai, General Li, and the Grand Army north, and into the annals of history to witness the glory that is to come in the place of my own royal person.

"Glory to you, my able servant. Free to pursue it as I cannot!" Long declared. The guards beat their spears in a thunderclap, driving the point home with the form of salute. Chifu barely stopped his writing board slipping from his grasp.

"Your Majesty, such a great honor! But alas, I am not so worthy, and I have such a knee that locks when it rains and…" The Emperor silenced him with a raised hand before speaking himself.

"It is a great honor, and how great the dishonor in not appreciating what your Emperor bestows upon you in his heavenly generosity," the Emperor smiled, staring at him pointedly.

"…I shall make preparations for the trip, then?" Chifu asked. The Emperor sat back and nodded.

The doors thudded closed behind Chifu as he stepped into the corridor. Glancing at one of the large ornamental vases set along the wall, he took off his hat of office and handed it to the left-hand guard by the door.

Leaving the guardsman holding the hat, the Chief Counselor went over to the vase and stuck his face into the opening.

"RMMMMMMFFFF!" his muffled scream vibrated the red ceramic work. Pulling his face back out, he stomped over to the guard and snatched his hat back. He glared at the stoic expression seemingly frozen on the young man's face.

"You are ordered to never speak of this," Chief Counselor Chifu snapped. The man made no indication have had heard. With a huff, Chifu walked around the corner, grumbling all the way. The guard's lips slowly curved up into a smile.

And snapped back into the reserved expression when Chifu's head popped back around the corner. Chifu narrowed his eyes and withdrew slowly. The guard waited until the count of twenty in his head, to smile again.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I told you it was coming soon. Well here we are, the sequel to Hachin. If you are anything like me you are a mix of quite happy it is here, miffed there is not more, and are reading this to gauge how long it will be until you get more.

So I will address that question now, it is going to be awhile. School is back in session and I have to deal with a tough course that is key to getting into a program with competitive admission.

I am not gping to stop writing for this site, writing and posting help keep me balanced, achievement and satisfaction. But frankly I think I will need fun writing, and the epic length stuff … Well each ach[peter posted is a bit of a reminder too of how long I have been at it and how much furthefi have to go.

So I will be focusing my efforts on a few small projects, the longest of which I expect to be a four-shot. And no, these are not going to grow out of control like Ages of Shadow. Basically stories I can have fun with, and be 'done' with in fairly short order.

If I do work on any epic length stories this semester I expect it to be for one of the ones whose next chapter is already partly completed. In other words not this story.

Not what you wanted to hear I know, I have been there with my favorite writers taking breaks from the stories I am really interested in. Niw I can't predict the future maybe I will get strucvk by something and churn out a chapter, but do not count on it. Odds are you will not get more D & H until december.

Ouch, I flinch typing it. Well knowing me I will be using the down time to refine the plot and subsequent chapter outlines. So hopefully when that time comes chapters will be ready to roll off. But like with Hachin this is going to be a long trip from the first chapter to the end.

But I found that last journey pretty awesome, and hope this one to be more of the same. So to returning readers, welcome back! To new readers … STOP this is the sequel. For best results read Hachin, and Hachin: Seasons first. Old and New glad to have you on the trip!

Now before we bow out for the time being, I hope you will excuse a tribute I have prepared for an artist I greatly admired:

XXX

Orson: I thought all stars were rich, live in mansions and drive big eggs.

Mork: I know, sir, that's the common misconception. But you see to get that you have to pay a very heavy price: you have responsibilities, anxieties, and to tell you the truth, sir, some of them can't take it.

Orson: I'm not buying it, Mork.

Mork: Why, sir?

Orson: It sounds to me like they have it made.

Mork: Well, most of them do sir, but some are victims of their own fame, very special and talented people: people like Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe... Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Lenny Bruce, Freddie Prinze, and John Lennon.

From "Mork Meets Robin Williams".

Hello, I would like to take a moment to honor a great star, Robin Williams. I knew I wanted to open this with a quote from Mr Williams, but there were so many to chose from and many already used to wonderful effect in a number of tributes. I was actually looking for a different Mork quote when I found this one, and knew this was what I needed.

I love Aladdin and I think Hook was the work of his that influenced me the most, it seemed only proper Mork & Mindy be the one singled out with a quote here. Partly by addressing the tragic end of his career by looking back to its early days, and because Mork was a case where Mr. Williams surprised me.

I knew about this series long before I realized Robin Williams played Mork. Yes, I often fail spot checks on matching actors to roles. It was a warm case of 'awesome', finding an old favorite is tied to something still coming up in your life.

I remember browsing the video store and finding "License to Wed", starring Robin Williams. I did not buy it though I read the back of it. It was like one of those times in the parking lot where you meet an old friend. There is not a long conversation, but you are pleased to see them and briefly get updated on how they are and how you are. Nothing big, but you drive home feeling a bit better than you would have otherwise.

The day after I heard the news, I shed tears for Robin Williams. He was not just an actor, he was a star. An idol needs only a pedestal and people to look up to it to be an idol. A star... a star is some thing that adds just a bit more light and beauty to the world.

But a lovely thing about stars, is even when they go out their light continues to shine on the distant skies of creation. Some can take this grimly saying the light you look upon has already gone out. But I see it as a gift from the departed to the remaining. A physical assurance that even when the source ends, what it sets in motion can continue without a hitch.

Robin Williams has left this world but he leaves behind a legacy that can be passed down through generations. From laughing with Genie, to serious questions with serious roles, to showing at least one kid who liked stories that growing up will cost you some things; it also brings new joys along they way if you let it.

It will fade some this legacy, as it should, other stars will bloom in the sky. And Mr Williams would want it no other way I expect. But to paraphrase "I'm not sure how significant I ever was to the universe. But I am sure I made some people's lives happier than they would have been without me."

Goodbye Robin Williams, you were magic. I hope to someday shake your hand in Heaven and tell you exactly why I cried back then.

Nanu nanu.

Robin Williams

1951-2014

"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it." - Robin Williams

X X X

Long days and pleasant nights to you all.