A/N: Once again, this was originally one long chapter I decided to split into two. In other words, TWO chapters are going up at once. Yay!!
THANK YOU once again for the encouraging words and honest feedback. I hope to continue to keep up with your expectations, aside from the copy errors I'm prone to make. (d'oh!) I'm not so worried about polish as I am about actually getting these chapters out, I guess. .*
These are exciting chapters, though. I hope you enjoy!
The heat of the summer gave way to relentless, cold rains. The road toward Fan Castle was sopping with black mud, and Gan Ning's horse had to pull and tug its hooves out of the mush to keep pace with the rest of the troops. The hair on his head was matted into a darkened nest of spikes that he had to constantly whip back and out of his eyes with short jerks of his head. The water had drained between his skin and the hardened leather of his breastplate and that of his legs and saddle, making him feel even more slimy, as if he were a sea turtle riding a giant slug. He was miserable. However, the foot soldiers around him looked more miserable, having already trudged miles through such conditions. He was sympathetic. He, too, was once a lowly grunt.
"Hey old man!" Gan Ning called. "Are we there yet?"
Lu Meng, who was a few paces ahead, roared back to him over his shoulder, "Stop asking me that!"
Gan Ning smirked, but then noted with no little concern that the elder's shoulders were suddenly convulsing again, the man having been seized with a coughing fit after his outburst. Lu Meng had been very good in masking his symptoms, but over the course of the month, they became more persistent and more obvious. In the week leading up to their departure, he would retire to his quarters everyday for hours. Despite these signs, the elder man denied being ill, even to Sun Quan, and was firmly resolved to lead their expedition and so none would challenge him. Now he was as soaking wet as the rest of them, suffering within and without. Nonetheless, he straightened and resumed leading them as though nothing was ever wrong. Gan Ning said nothing. He recognized the rare standard of honor and duty Lu Meng adhered to, and he respected his stocism.
And so, adding to his chilly, rain-battered fatigue, there was no one else around he could rely on to keep his mind off of the trip until they could camp again. Lu Xun was travelling up further ahead, and Zhou Tai was bringing up the rear of their convoy. He and Lu Meng included made up the generals dispatched by Sun Quan.
Unfortunately, Ling Tong was sorely missing. He was held back despite his progress, for his royal physicians determined that he was not yet healed enough to go into battle without significant risk. Because Ling Tong had nearly died for him, Sun Quan was particularly sensitive to advice concerning his brave vassal's health, and gave way easily to their prescription of continued bedrest with increasing amounts of exercise.
Which pissed Gan Ning off. On the morning they set out for Fan Castle, he was ready to yank Ling Tong out of bed and march him and his bum leg to the stables so they could saddle up and go. He did not believe that Ling Tong would have preferred to stay out of the action based on the advice of some quacks. Not that Gan Ning could have known for sure. Ling Tong made good on his promise to ban him from visiting, taking the precautions of having his aides lock his room, posting sentries, and even - according to Lu Meng - keeping a weapon handy by his bed just in case. Gan Ning found Ling Tong's security measures cute since he could still get in easily if he wanted to, but it was irritating to be told by such measures that he wasn't wanted.
"Fuck him," Gan Ning muttered. He sighed, wanting to say it directly to Ling Tong's face. The rain continued to beat down.
"Old man!"
The battle was won. The alliance of Wu and Wei forces, aided by the defections of Mi Fang and Fu Shi Ren, succeeded in surrounding and capturing the Shu tiger of Guan Yu.
There would be a price for the victory. Slicked with rain and blood, Gan Ning rushed to the side of Lu Meng who, after dropping his polearm, staggered precariously. Outwardly, he was not gravely wounded, yet he then fell to one knee, splashing in the pool of rainwater as deep as his ankles. Gan Ning reached out to steady him.
"Old man!" he said again. He watched in horror as blood dripped from Lu Meng's lips, with spatters in the water made from the elder's deep, blood-soaked coughs.
Despite his condition, Lu Meng chuckled. He turned to Gan Ning and said, "I'm getting much too old for this war." He fell backwards, Gan Ning catching him.
"Fortunately, we have leaders like you ready to take the reins," Lu Meng went on. "Don't worry. Sun Quan, Lu Xun, all of them. They all see you have the potential for greatness."
"Hey," Gan Ning said, shaking him a little. "Stop talking as if you aren't going to be around, old man."
"Old man again..." Lu Meng said, smiling. His head rolled back, and he breathed his last.
The force sent to Fan Castle had returned triumphant, and Sun Quan ordered a fine feast prepared for them. However, most in attendance enjoyed themselves but with a degree of somber reverence, Ling Tong included. He had attended the feast without question, for the news of Lu Meng's loss had reached his ears, and he knew Sun Quan was also feasting them in his honor.
Men of every rank ate and drank their fill, and all of the leading generals attended his interrment in the very same grounds as the Sun clan, and Ling Tong's father. Ling Tong was heartbroken at the loss of such an inspiring leader, and there was no doubt that all of his peers were of the same mind, including the brash Gan Ning. Ling Tong meant to speak with Gan Ning since his return, but after the ceremony, the pirate in question departed suddenly, and none knew of his whereabouts.
"He's guilty," Ling Tong said aloud. "And me, too. He might still be alive if I had been there."
He spoke through the drizzling rain, rubbing his healed thigh absentmindedly. He was perched on the steps outside his quarters, continuing his mourning solo with a goblet of wine.
But not for long. A familiar jingle made his lips curl in a subtle smile.
"Hey, Ling Tong," Gan Ning said, hopping down from the sloping roof above him.
"Do you ever travel on the ground? You know, like a normal person?"
Gan Ning grinned. "Boring," he said. He crossed over to Ling Tong and seated himself on a step next to him. Ling Tong smiled back, then took a sip from his goblet. Gan Ning nodded at the action, saying, "Partying hard?"
"What else is there to do?" Ling Tong replied rhetorically. "Besides train."
"Fucking right," Gan Ning said. Quickly scanned Ling Tong. "Training? You're better, huh?" he remarked.
"Yep!" Ling Tong piped, flexing his leg. He then smirked darkly, recalling their last encounter. He was still feeling slighted about Gan Ning's cruel treatment. "No thanks to you," he said.
Gan Ning rolled his eyes, realizing what Ling Tong was referring to. "Get over it already, you wimp," he teased, smiling. "You always take things so damn far. Don't ever change. Really."
Teasing or not, the remark did not relieve Ling Tong's irritation. What was a smolder was quickly being fanned into a brushfire. Ling Tong smiled at him, though, pretending to be just as amused. "And you're an asshole," Ling Tong observed. "Nothing but shit ever comes from you. So don't ever change. Really."
Laughing, Gan Ning rose to his feet. He walked out a few paces into the rain, saying, "Man, I wished you were there. It was a good fight, with me front and center, tearing into 'em like wet paper." As he went on, he began gesticulating, haughtily barking his exploits without pause. Ling Tong sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he watched him brag.
"But," Gan Ning said. "Then the old man..." He trailed off. All of a sudden, his energy ceased, and he stood limp and dejected, his back to Ling Tong.
"Lu Meng," Ling Tong clarified solemnly.
"Yeah," Gan Ning said over his shoulder. "He was sick. That's what killed him. Did you know that?"
Ling Tong's eyes widened. "Ah," he replied, genuinely surprised. "Then..."
"There was nothing I could have done," Gan Ning said. Unbeknownst to him, the statement set Ling Tong past his breaking point. He was suddenly angry. After enduring Gan Ning sing his own praises, it was insulting to hear him shrugging off the death of Lu Meng in the next breath. To his ears, his remorse sounded fake.
So, Ling Tong put down his goblet, rose to his feet and said, "Well, I suppose he is a bit relieved."
Confused, Gan Ning turned around slightly and asked him, "What do you mean?"
"He won't have to deal with your boasting anymore."
Revenge. Ling Tong smiled as he let his cruel remark fly from its bow. He hit his target dead on. A brief wave of satisfaction washed over him, for he could see his victim stagger emotionally from the blow.
Gan Ning was shocked, then enraged. He clenched his fists. He turned to Ling Tong, fully intending to kill him. Unphased, Ling Tong beckoned him on, itching to put him in his place.
However, the familiar subject of Ling Tong's words abruptly doused Gan Ning's wrath. Gan Ning recoiled, and nearly laughed at the irony. He felt deserving of his wounds being salted by his rival's cruel words.
Instead of violence, Gan Ning only said, "Ling Tong, I'm not in the mood." He the retreated, walking off into the mist.
Confusing and unexpected as his response was, Ling Tong was taken aback further by Gan Ning's expression. The furrows that told of his deep hurt, regret, and resignation were most decidedly not fake.