The Mountain Passes
A cold wind was flowing down from the peaks above, and a pale glow over the ridge to the east marked the spot where the moon would rise. A weathered and nearly illegible sign board had pointed the way up a small side canyon off the pass to a simple stone hut built to shelter imperial messengers and other travelers, and it was there Po and his friends were getting what sleep they could before moving on again.
At least, most of them were.
Tigress, unable to sleep with her enemies on the move and their strategy unknown, was prowling around the nearby slopes, guarding against sudden attack. Tai Lung had claimed the same intention; but now he was crouched, unmoving, in the deep shade of a stand of pines.
He had twenty years of practice at hiding his emotions; doing any less would have left him vulnerable to attacks he couldn't fend off. So he gave little outward sign of the turmoil in his thoughts, huddling in on himself in a ball so tight that his muscles threatened to cramp, fighting to keep his breathing even, keeping the inevitable catches and gasps as silent as possible.
Had it been only yesterday afternoon that he had pledged to do his best, to honor his training, to devote the last few days of his life to defending Po? And before even a full day had passed, what had he done? Let his fury have full rein, lost control, wreaked havoc. And he'd nearly attacked Po when he tried to intervene, pulling himself to a stop at the last moment.
Too late, he thought, it was too late. He had thought he could change, control his temper as he knew he should, as he'd tried to when he was younger. It had troubled him then, knowing that the peace and harmony that were the heart of kung fu continued to elude him. But as time passed, his concerns faded; he was acclaimed a hero, Shifu's pride in his skills grew daily, and all because of his ferocity and ruthlessness in battle. How could he be wrong if all agreed he was the best? At first he thought he could keep from going too far, assumed that it was impossible to go too far. Wasn't he the prodigy, the epitome of a kung fu master, the soon-to-be Dragon Warrior? He pushed his doubts aside, into a dark corner of his mind, and basked in the praise he received as his due.
And when things did indeed go too far, more and more often, he still refused to consider that he was wrong, made excuses for himself, justified his actions in every way possible. He was still justifying his actions to himself the night he struck out at the very people he was supposed to protect; still justifying himself on the day he slaughtered his way out of the gates of Chorh-gom and sped toward the Valley of Peace with theft and murder in his heart. It was only after his brush with death when fighting Po, when all his ambitions came crashing down, that he began to allow himself to doubt, to look beyond the reflection of his own glory that he had focused on so long and see what others had come to see. Not the great hero he wanted to be, adored and admired, but only an arrogant, violent, flawed man who could endanger others as easily as he might protect them.
It was that realization that had driven him far beyond the bounds of the civilized world; that had chased him into the killing depths of the desert when the grateful folk of a remote town had named him "hero". He still didn't know what had drawn him back to the world he knew, but it was only his chance encounter with the panda he'd tried to destroy as a hated and unworthy rival that had given him any hope at all. Had given him something to hold to, the idea that he might yet get it right, that he could change, could be what he had been raised and trained to be, what he had yearned for all his life. It was right there in front of him, what he should have been; Po and the Furious Five, examples to live up to. He had been a poor student to Shifu and Oogway, he could see that now, but surely he might have learned from Po?
He had begun to think it was possible. Even as events seemed to draw him closer to his inevitable and long-delayed doom – and had that, perhaps, been what he was looking for when he returned to China? - he had tried to believe, as Po insisted, that things would work out, that he would prove that he had changed, that he was better than his past deeds indicated, that he could live up to his highest ideals instead of down to his basest instincts.
And then tonight, it had all come crashing down. As they had raced to catch up with their enemies, it had begun to eat at him, the image of Po facing off with that tiger, trying to reason with a pitiless killer. Akshatha's deeds had proclaimed his character, from the blasted dam at Yunjiang, to the burning village above the Yangtze, to the weeping survivors in the foothills; and Tai Lung, exquisitely tuned to evaluating an enemy in the heartbeats before battle, knew what he had seen in the tiger in the few brief seconds he'd faced him in his camp. There were few foes who had ever given him a moment's pause; Akshatha was one of them. When he'd glimpsed him across the chasm at the Thread of Hope, he had actually been glad the bridge was already down. The thought of Po coming up against that…
The emotions had roiled in him all the way up the pass, until, by the time they surveyed the camp below them, he was keyed to a fever pitch, wanting only to make sure that he got to Akshatha before the panda did. He had to protect his friend, it was the only thing left to him to do. He had to bring down the tiger, even if it cost him his life. Especially if it cost him his life. He could accept that, if he went down doing one last, good thing, for the friend who had persisted in believing in him. He might even give Po what he hoped for, the name of hero bestowed on him once again, if only in death. And, in a deeper, more selfish place that he didn't want to examine too closely, he wanted to destroy this dark reflection of himself, this monster that left devastation and sorrow in his wake; who did, openly and arrogantly, the very things that Tai Lung still had the tattered shreds of decency to feel shame for. He wanted to obliterate the thing that he feared he could still, all too easily, become.
And then the deception had been revealed; the camp had far too few defenders. The tiger was nowhere to be seen. When he had torn his way into the tiger's empty tent and he had begun to suspect the truth, that his prey had escaped him, had outwitted him, was still out there where he could do more damage – and where Po would inevitably follow - he couldn't contain it any longer. The tension had burst into an all-consuming rage that was horribly familiar, and after that no one who came near was safe. Shapes rose out of a red haze and fell before him. He was unstoppable; he existed only to kill. The only thing that had pulled him up short was Po.
He wasn't sure exactly what had gotten through to him, the earnest look, the quiet voice, the concern in the panda's eyes; but suddenly the anger was gone, and he realized what he had just let happen. He had been distracted, briefly, by the foreign bear that had nearly ambushed Tigress – which she would have seen, had she not been so focused on him, proving again what a danger he was to others. But afterward, as they left the decoy camp, he had done what he had never bothered – or allowed – himself to do before. He had looked back at the carnage around the central tent, and let himself see just what it was he left behind him.
No more, he thought. He couldn't go on like this, holding to Po's enthusiasm and optimism and hoping that he could somehow make it through his life without doing more harm, all the while know just what, in a weak moment, he was capable of. And the worst of it, the truly horrifying thing, was that his skill was so great, his training so thorough, only Oogway and Po had ever been able to stop him when he let himself go. Oogway was gone; so if it came to it, it would be Po who would have to put an end to his next rampage. Po could do it; they both knew that. But how could he go on, aware that as much as he wanted to protect Po from having to knowingly, deliberately kill an enemy, he was creating the conditions where Po would have to knowingly, deliberately kill a friend?
When they reached the army camp, he decided, he would see that Po was never placed in that position. He would go to Vachir and ask him – beg him, if he had to – to carry out his orders. It would happen anyway, in the end, he was certain, and all things considered, he'd prefer the rhino do the deed. He had seen Vachir's skill with his battle axe, and he had good reason to know how strong the Anvil's commander was. He'd have it over quickly, doubtless far quicker than anything this General Yuan had in mind. Of course, Vachir had seemed reluctant back in the Valley, making a few promises of his own… Tai Lung wasn't sure what game the rhino thought he was playing, but surely he'd see that this was inevitable.
He only wished he could have taken out Akshatha for Po before his death.
Finally, wearily, he pushed himself to his feet. He was tired physically, but even more than that, he was wrung out emotionally. He wanted nothing more than to escape into sleep for a few hours. He plodded down the slope toward the hut, his thoughts turned so far inward that he had actually taken several steps past Tigress before he realized she was there.
"You almost attacked Po." Her voice was cold, unforgiving.
He stopped, but didn't turn. He could fell her eyes boring into his back. "Don't worry," he said dully. "It won't happen again."
"I don't think you can promise that, Tai Lung," she said. Her voice was low, too low to awaken anyone in the hut, but held a deadly intensity. "I don't think you're in control of yourself. I don't think you've ever bothered trying to control yourself!"
"I've told you before," he answered, a growing irritation starting to show, "I'm not your problem."
"You are as long as you're with us. It's my responsibility to lead the Five, to see that we and our allies fight as one, effectively and to the best of our abilities – and to ensure the safety of my friends. That's the only way we can be sure to accomplish our missions and protect those who need us. You should know that. Hells, you should be doing this, not me!" She pushed away from the tree she'd been leaning on and took a step closer. "But you couldn't do that, could you? You could never think about anyone but yourself, your ambitions, feeding your pride on the cheers of those who couldn't see you for what you were—"
"Are you done?" he sneered. "Because I'm tired. Do you think you have anything to say that I don't already know?"
"Your indiscipline is a liability to this mission –"
He shot her a glare over his shoulder. "Then you shouldn't have insisted I come along!"
"Have you taken even one moment to analyze the way you fight – ?"
"I innovate! I don't tie myself to any one form, I've moved beyond that –"
"You've moved beyond that?" she asked, incredulous. "Is that what you think? Because what I saw wasn't a kung fu master, it was a brawler with just enough technique to –"
"To save you from a foe you missed because you were so obsessed with me — !"
"Because you…!" she sputtered, then took a deep breath. He was not going to draw her into this. Her voice dropped lower, took on even more menace. "If you had laid a hand on Po –"
He finally spun around. "Gods, Tigress, do you think I want to hurt Po?!" he exploded. "That's the last thing I want! I was trying to protect him!"
"You nearly attacked him!" she grated, her near-whisper somehow just short of a scream. "And since when does it matter what you intend? You hurt people quite enough without intending anything! You don't even have to be there, do you?" She broke off sharply, with an audible click of teeth, as though biting off the words.
He stared at her, wordless. He'd never seen Tigress display this much emotion, become so upset. And he realized he knew why. After a moment, she went on, as if it was too hard to stop the words, to hold back all she'd had to say for years of silence.
"All those years, all my life, I watched as Shifu drew further and further away from those who… who cared about him, because he could never let go of the disappointment and pain that you caused him. He never smiled, never dared give anyone a word of praise, for fear they'd turn out like you! He blamed himself for what you became, and he was so determined not to make the same mistake again, not to –"
"Not to turn another monster loose on the Valley," he finished her sentence, though the words seemed almost too heavy to force their way from his lips. "And so he was never there for you –"
"For any of us," she backpedalled, trying to raise her compromised defenses, replace her mask of stoicism.
He took a step closer. "But especially you, Tigress, am I right? Because he was all you had. And you've accomplished all that you have without his encouragement…"
"I had his encouragement!" she shot back. "He always made sure I practiced every lesson, every technique, to perfection. He… he just…" She turned away from him abruptly, took a few steps toward the trees. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."
He didn't know either. He didn't know what he should say, and he was sure he should say something. The trouble was, he was no good at this, at all the deep emotional stuff. His usual tactic – which, he saw, Tigress was good at, too – was to deflect anything that hit too close to home with a sharp or sarcastic comment. He shut his eyes for a moment, at a loss. Finally, he managed, "Well, congratulations. You're a complete success at not being me. Or at being what you think I was supposed to be. Or… whatever. Shifu should be proud of you." He started to turn away again, realized that his last statement edged into his usual defensive nastiness – and that he hadn't meant it to. "I'm sure he is," he added, trying for a softer tone, "even if he never said so." When he got only a slight nod in answer, he found himself adding, "I never intended to hurt you, Tigress."
"No," she said wearily, "you never intended to hurt anyone. The trouble is, you don't think. You don't consider the consequences of your actions. And people get hurt because of that. I know you don't intend to hurt Po. But whatever you want, Po is going to get hurt. He wants to save you. And he can't."
Tai Lung's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said quietly. "When this is over, just…" He was silent a long moment, looking up into the branches overhead as though the words he needed were written there. "Just make sure he's alright. You know what I mean."
He paused a moment as he entered the hut, letting his eyes adjust. Crane was to the left of the door, hat pulled low over his eyes. Viper was coiled against Monkey's side; Mantis sprawled out on the langur's chest. Po was snoring softly, but opened one bleary eye as Tai Lung settled into place near the wall. "Oh, hey, there you are, buddy," he murmured sleepily.
"Yeah," he said listlessly. "Here I am. Get some sleep." The panda was snoring again almost immediately.
Tai Lung rolled to his side, curled tightly into a ball, wrapped his tail around his feet, and rested his forehead against the wall. He hoped he could sleep, but the heaviness in his heart was an almost physical weight. I'm sorry, Po, he thought. I tried. I failed you, too. I'm sorry.
Crane woke before dawn, as he usually did. He had always found the morning bell at the Jade Palace jarring, and after his first months there, had begun to wake before it was rung. He found the moments of quiet, before anyone else was up, very pleasant and refreshing, a time for some quiet meditation or exercise, or perhaps a bit of painting.
No painting today, of course, but he'd still have a little time to himself before he had to go. Though no one had said anything last night, it was obvious he would be flying ahead, trying to find where Akshatha and his men had disappeared to. Finding them in the valleys and gorges of the mountains would be hard, though, if they'd left the main pass.
He glanced at the sleeping forms around him, and saw that Tigress wasn't among them. She hadn't stayed up all night again, had she? Why did she always think she was the only one who could keep watch, not letting anyone else stand guard while she rested, pushing herself until she was absolutely exhausted? And then, if anything did happen while she slept, she would blame herself for not staying up. Not because she thought the rest of them were incompetent, but because she felt she had to do everything, be responsible for everything, be the best, that she couldn't let up for a moment. He sighed.
She had only been a little girl when he first met her, though even then, when she would occasionally still play and laugh like any other child, there was a somber, too-adult aura about her. She had been through a lot already, he knew, for someone so young, orphaned and treated as an outcast among the other children at Bao Gu, too strong and dangerous and volatile to be trusted around the smaller, gentler creatures. They had never said a word about it in her hearing, after she came to the Jade Palace, but Mantis had speculated, and Crane and Fox had agreed, that it had been one more repercussion of Tai Lung's attack on the Valley. There was still so much fear, and Tigress was, potentially, an even larger and stronger feline than he had been. Add to that common perceptions – snow leopards, rare and reclusive, were as likely to be seen as simple woodsmen or holy hermits as they were fighters or, regrettably, bandits. Tigers had a far more noble, and martial, image. Tigers had been emperors in earlier dynasties, and had given China more than a few famous generals. They had also figured in history, both ancient and recent, as rebels and warlords; that this latest scourge, Akshatha, was a tiger, surprised no one. The thought of what Tigress might become had been in the back of everyone's mind; the caretakers at the orphanage had kept her from the other children, adding to her frustration and anger; those who came to adopt a child were too afraid to open their hearts and homes to her. But, sadly, it was Shifu whose misgivings hurt her most. He had been the one who had reached out to her, helped her learn self-control, taken her in and given her a place and a direction in life. And his cold and critical manner, so obviously intended to avoid a repetition of his mistakes with Tai Lung, so obviously meant to shield himself from another such loss, had been more than the little cub could understand. Or rather, as she grew older, she could understand in her mind, but never her heart, why the man she considered her father could never be pleased with or proud of her.
Crane had tried to help, to be a friend to the little girl and give her at least some sense of a normal childhood. But that had been more than he was up for, it seemed; Tigress' childhood was over long before he met her, and after Fox left he was even more at a loss. Fox had been a warm and open person, probably just what Tigress had needed; she always seemed to know what others needed. As the only chick of an overprotective mother, Crane had never spent enough time with other kids, either, had always been studious and introverted, reading or painting in his room. Though in his youth he might have had dreams about kung fu not entirely different from Po's – he hoped he hadn't been as gushingly enthusiastic about it – the truth was that even seeking a job at the Lee Da Academy had been almost too much excitement for him. It was a bit of a relief for him that Tigress was such a controlled child, that she wasn't wild and rambunctious as some children could be. He had enjoyed helping her in her training, and had been awed and proud of her as he watched her grow into such an accomplished warrior over the years. He respected her as the leader of the Furious Five, admired her for the kung fu master she had worked so hard to become, and considered her a friend. And he still worried about her, about the way she drove herself ever harder, about the lack of… of a life in her life. He wished he could have done more for her.
He stepped out of the small hut, the cold mountain air clearing the last wisps of sleepiness from his mind. The sky overhead was pink and gold with dawn, but the canyon they were in was still in deep blue shadow. It would be hours, he thought, before the sun found its way in here. Tigress was a short way down the trail to the pass, in a level, grassy area spotted with small pink and purple flowers. He watched as she practiced one of the more advanced forms, moving through the stances as flawlessly as ever. Would it have been too much for Shifu to have mentioned how good she was, just once? He glided down and joined her, modifying a few moves that were more suited to arms than wings. After a while, he ventured, "So… you were up all night?"
"Yes," she said shortly, moving from a kick into a strike.
"No sign of trouble?"
"No" she answered, weight shifting to her left leg in a defensive stance, then forward onto the right in an attack pose.
Crane continued his exercises, watching Tigress from the corner of his eye. Should he say anything, or just let well enough alone? He considered for a while, seeing the tension in her movements, the crease between her brows. Finally, he made up his mind. "So… what's wrong?"
She said nothing, feigning concentration on her practice, her movements gaining force and speed. Crane stopped his own exercise, stood watching her for a time. "Was it… last night?" he asked at last. "I mean… are you worried about what happened with Tai Lung, that he might…"
Tigress came to stop, slightly winded, still not looking at him. "No," she said, "it's not that." She stared off into the distance, at the far peaks just beginning to catch the morning light. "At least, it's not what happened in the camp. It's just… later on, after we got here, I spoke to Tai Lung about it…" she trailed off.
Crane closed his eyes a moment. Oh dear. What had the snow leopard said to her now? He knew that Po and the rest of the Five had taken a liking to Tai Lung, and were hoping he could return to the Valley with them when this was all over, and he admitted there was something… agreeable, about the leopard. He was a better person than the stories Crane had heard suggested, and he was certainly an exceptional fighter. But he still made Crane nervous, and he was clearly aggravating to Tigress. While he hoped for a better ending than Tai Lung's return to prison, he would be relieved if the snow leopard parted ways with them when this business was over.
"Crane?" He opened his eyes to find Tigress looking at him, a frown of worry on her face. "Do you think that I… I mean, I've always done my best, tried to excel in all that Master Shifu taught me…"
Crane frowned too, irritated. "He didn't question your skill, or commitment, did he?"
Tigress gave a short, humorless, laugh. "You didn't hear a fight last night, did you? No, it wasn't that. He just… made me wonder. Did I do it all to prove myself, to myself… or just to prove I wasn't him?"
Crane considered this a long while. Finally, he looked up. "Does it matter?" he asked quietly.
Tigress stiffened in shock and fell back a step.
Crane turned away, took a few steps into the meadow. The light was beginning to move down the slopes above, turning the rock faces golden. "Not that I'm questioning your accomplishments," he said diffidently.
"No," Tigress said slowly, thoughtfully, "of course not. But do you mean –"
A sharp cry interrupted them. Crane looked first at the hut, but even as he did he realized the shout had come from above them, and was not one of his friends' voices. It was not a completely unfamiliar voice, though. He located the source just as the young falcon dropped to a barely controlled landing on a sapling tree beside them. Dewdrops showered from the jostled leaves. "Master Tigress! Master Crane! I found you!"
"Jifeng!" Tigress replied, then, "How did you find us?"
The young bird looked up at her with the sort of disdainful certainty that only adolescents seemed capable of. "I knew which way you were going. And there's a trashed camp down the way." He glanced back at the hut. "And I saw the smoke from your fire."
Crane glanced back at the hut again, then scanned the sky above it. Indiscernible in the shadows of the draw, a thin line of smoke became visible as it rose into the growing light. "Well, looks like Po's up," he remarked.
"Jifeng," Tigress was saying, "did you see any other movement? The camp down the pass was a decoy, lightly defended; the main body of our enemies had moved on. Are we close to them?"
The falcon frowned. "If they're moving in the pass, they're good at staying under cover. Or else they know some other way through, a trail that cuts back into the mountains. I got to as many of the mountain villages as I could, told them what was happening. If they try to steal anyone else's supplies, they won't find much left for them!"
"That's great," Crane said warmly. "You've saved many lives, I'm sure." Seeing the youngster's sudden pained expression, he mentally cursed himself for forgetting that the falcon had lost his own father to the invaders. He pressed on. "How far did you go? Did you hear any news of the Emperor's army?"
Jifeng nodded. "They say the army has taken up position at the Tong Pass. And some of the eastern villages said that the invaders, the rest of them, I mean, were slow to move away from the river and into the mountains. Some men were talking about trying to help, join up with the army, maybe, but I don't know what might come of it. They have their own homes and crops to defend. Maybe a few will go."
Crane had scratching a rough diagram into a patch of bare earth. "My guess," he said to Tigress, "is that Ushi held back deliberately. It depends on who led the army out…"
"General Yuan, Vachir said," she answered. "I've heard he's very traditional, sticks to reliable tactics."
"That may be better than some hothead. I'm guessing the plan is to lure the army into the pass and have Akshatha's smaller force hit them from behind, throw them into confusion."
Tigress nodded. "That's a possibility. I still worry about Akshatha making a strike north toward Chang'an. If the Emperor has returned there, it might be dangerous for him. We can send word –"
Jifeng interrupted. "The Emperor isn't in the capital."
Crane looked at the smaller bird in surprise. "He's not? When I brought my messages there, I thought surely they'd inform him and he'd head back."
"Well, I heard the day before yesterday that the imperial party is still at Mount Hua."
"Crane," Tigress said, "why don't you head to Mount Hua; if you spot our enemies, so much the better, but make sure the message got through to the Emperor and his people. Get something to eat, and make sure the others are up; we'll all be leaving quickly."
"Will do," he answered, spreading his wings and, with a few strokes of the air, skimming along the meadow back toward the hut.
Tigress considered her next moves for a long moment. She glanced back at the falcon still waiting nearby. The youngster's piercing eyes were fixed on her. "Jifeng," she finally said, "You should probably head back to your family…"
"Are you kidding?" Jifeng was indignant. "This is the most important, exciting thing that's ever happened! I'm not just going to go home now, before it's over! I want to do whatever I can to help!"
Tigress had to smile at the young bird's enthusiasm. And she did need his help. "Well, if you're not too worn out to fly another message –"
The young bird actually bounced on the narrow branch, sending more droplets flying. "I'll do it! Where?"
She hesitated. She needed to let the army know that Akshatha had slipped away from her, that she could only guess at the tiger's whereabouts and plans, let them know where he was last seen… and that he was entirely too close to the Emperor's location. But what could Jifeng do? An unknown village boy was hardly going to be shown straight to the general, especially a general as conventional as Yuan Jie, and his message might take too long to reach him, or not reach him at all. She made her decision.
"I want you to fly to the Tong Pass, keep an eye out for the Anvil of Heaven. You can't miss them, they're all rhinos and heavily armed. Go to Commander Vachir, and tell him I sent you. Give him this message—"
There had been no repercussions for losing the captured mongoose when they crossed the Yangtze, but Chay and Irwan had been keeping a low profile since then. Losing prisoners was not something they wanted to be known for among the Anvil; and Chay was still chagrined that he had inadvertently shot Tai Lung's manacle off during the snow leopard's escape years before. His embarrassment over that incident had been so great that, even though Tai Lung had bypassed the ballista positions on his way to the gates, Chay would have been just as happy if one of the roof stalactites had fallen on him, or no one had made the effort to recover the men trapped below. That was one report he had had no great desire to make.
They were ahead of the main body of the Anvil, scouting up the pass. Captain Yu's boats had transported them upriver with admirable speed, and Vachir was sure they were ahead of Ushi's forces. If the Anvil had been up to full strength, no doubt the commander would have held them back and waited for the ox's men to enter the pass, then moved up behind them, living up to their name as the invaders were caught between them and the army's hammer blow. Now, though, they were making all speed to cross through the mountains first and join up with Deshiyn and his men, and coordinate with General Yuan in their attack. They should be nearing the fortifications guarding the pass soon, Chay thought; it had been years since he was last here, but if he remembered correctly it couldn't be more than a day's march ahead.
The mountain walls narrowed ahead, and he and Irwan moved carefully forward. There shouldn't be enemies ahead of them, but the Anvil of Heaven hadn't built their reputation on being reckless. Chay scanned the walls of the gorge speculatively, thinking this would be a good place to get ambushed by archers.
Irwan jabbed an elbow into his ribs.
Chay stopped, glaring at him, but any objection he was going to make died as the other rhino nodded toward the bend in the road ahead. Someone – more than one – was approaching. Chay and Irwan exchanged a glance, drew their weapons, and spread out to either side of the track, moving forward warily. Just before they reached the bend, they slowed, letting whoever was coming toward them round the turn first.
What appeared on the road before them a moment later might as well have been their own reflections; two rhinos, armed with maces, wearing the familiar grey metal-studded armor and green striped kilts and armbands of the Anvil of Heaven. All four stopped short in surprise. Then one of the newcomers broke out in an incredulous grin. "Irwan?!"
"Bintang!" Irwan shouted in return, and rushed forward, embracing his younger brother. They began laughing and pounding each other enthusiastically on the back, as though to assure themselves that the other was really there.
Chay and the other rhino stood aside as the laughing and pounding continued, finally growing a bit restless. Chay glanced over at his counterpart. "Arban."
"Chay."
"So where's the rest of your men?"
"Lieutenant's a couple hours up the road, came out with about a hundred of us to meet you. How far are the rest of yours?"
"About an hour down the pass, maybe less. We figure we have about two day's march on the enemy."
Arban nodded. "Good. That'll give the commander time to talk to Deshiyn, sort out the Anvil before they get here. And before he has to deal with Yuan," he added, with a grimace. He nodded toward the two brothers, still happily greeting each other. "Think those two will get done any time soon?"
Chay shook his head. "Nah."
Arban watched a moment longer, then grinned at Chay. "Gods, it's good to see you – to get us all back together."
Chay felt a surge of pure relief at the thought that after all they'd been through the last several weeks, things were finally looking up. They had reinforcements, they could turn and fight. No more running and hiding, no more hunger and weariness, no more comrades left behind in hastily dug graves. He swallowed hard. "You have no idea, Arban. You have no idea."
Crane didn't eat much before he sped northward. He didn't want to feel weighed down after a heavy meal – and Po's dumplings were heavy – but his stomach was twisting itself in knots with the thought of what would happen if he were too late with this message. Akshatha and his men were somewhere ahead of him in the folds and canyons of the mountains, making their way north, to where the Emperor waited. Not undefended, of course. He would certainly have his bodyguard around him on a journey from the capital. But surely not expecting attack. Any word he'd had would put the enemy to the east, in the Tong Pass, where the army waited for them.
Fog was lingering in the north-facing valleys and draws as he flew low over the ridges, trying to see any movement below. It was no use. He circled once, his attention attracted by some barely-glimpsed figures, but saw only a group of woodcutters working in a clearing. Trees and mist obscured his view, and he gave up trying to find the enemy. They might be only a short way below, in the next canyon to east or west, and he'd never spot them. He soared upward to catch the wind, and headed for Mt. Hua.
It was late morning when he arrived, the five peaks of the mountain spread out like the petals of a flower below him, cupping the temples and shrines built there. He could see without landing that the Imperial party was no longer there. Only a few figures moved placidly about the mountaintop. He dropped downward, skimming along the steep pathway leading up the mountainside. At places, stairs climbed precipitously up the slope; at others, wooden walkways were precariously supported by beams driven into sheer cliffs. A dangerous climb, Crane thought, especially for heavily loaded porters or armored soldiers. Would the Emperor have walked, or been carried, up this way? Or would he have flown, if taking to wing wasn't beneath the imperial dignity? It would certainly be easier, and safer.
When he reached the foot of the sacred mountain, and found the elegant and extensive grounds of the Xiyue Temple spread out around him, he could see the Emperor was no longer there, either. He breathed a little easier; surely the Son of Heaven was on his way back to Chang'an, where he could be defended from attack. Still, many miles across open terrain lay between here and the capital, and a royal entourage couldn't move too quickly. He stopped a passing priest, a crane like himself wearing a red silk robe, and asked when the Emperor had left the temple.
"Only yesterday noon," the priest told him. "But they were not heading for Chang'an, good sir. I believe they were headed east."
"East?!" Crane was disbelieving. "But there's an army marching up from the south, through the pass there!"
"And his Majesty's army is there, as well. He would surely be better defended by his army, than in the capital when all his soldiers have been sent to war."
Crane gained as much altitude as he could, when he resumed his search, wishing he had distance vision as keen as that of the young falcon. He was sure, however, that given a wide view of the land below, he couldn't possibly miss the movement of an imperial progress, with its troops, baggage, and the numerous relatives, courtiers, functionaries, and hangers-on who would accompany the emperor. He would see the cloud of dust they raised, if nothing else. But he tried to make some haste toward the northeast, knowing the procession would have a day's head start on him. And so, when he did catch the fluttering of banners atop a throng of colorful tents, to the south of his flight path, he overshot the location at first and had to double back. He was amazed as he descended, and concerned. They were moving too slowly, and in the wrong direction, he was sure. Something was wrong. Or so he thought. But perhaps the emperor did feel more secure closer to his army and foremost general? Perhaps he felt he should be present to defend his country from this invader? Crane felt a wave of doubt. How was he to know how the emperor decided these things, what he thought was best?
But shouldn't they at least have been moving faster?
He glided to a stop before a gap in the mass of tents that served as the entrance to the encampment. Elaborate, brightly colored tents massed around an enormous gold and red pavilion in the middle that could barely be classified as a temporary structure. Golden pennants fluttered in the morning breeze, and four argali mountain sheep guards in gold armor over blue shirts and pants eyed him in a distinctly unwelcoming manner. After so long in company with the rhinos, the rams struck Crane as rather small for soldiers; but the guards' broad chests and thick horns curling outward over their wide shoulders, as well as the businesslike way they handled their pole arms, were daunting enough. He made haste to announce himself to them, and make it clear he bore an important message. After a moment's discussion among themselves, one of the rams guided him to the tent of their captain.
Crane couldn't help but approve. The tent, for all its small and temporary nature, was neat and organized; a bedroll tidily rolled up in one corner; papers and message scrolls stacked on the small folding table; even the captain's ornate armor and gold-plumed helmet displayed on a stand. The captain himself, Kuang, a tall, broad-chested ram, struck Crane as a capable soldier, alert and businesslike. Despite the long hours guarding the Emperor's progress on the dusty roads, he appeared rested, his curving horns polished and his blue uniform spotless and unrumpled. Though out of armor, he had two daggers on his belt, and his jian sword leaned against the table to his right.
"Of course, we've been keeping abreast of the enemy's movements," the captain said, indicating the stack of messages. He took a sip of the tea he'd had one of his men bring in, then unrolled a map on the table. "The last word we had from General Yuan was that the main body of the invaders was pushing up the Tong Pass, toward his position. Scouts reported that a smaller force was moving up the pass ahead of them; apparently the Anvil of Heaven, or I should say, Commander Vachir's contingent of the Anvil. Lieutenant Deshiyn's men marched out of Chang'an with the army. Good men in the Anvil," he added, taking another sip of tea. "They should be able to integrate their forces quickly and be most effective against these foreigners."
"They've been doing what they could to slow this enemy," Crane said, sipping his own tea, "though they've taken serious losses doing it. Commander Vachir is ahead of the invaders, you said? That's good; he's been eager to turn and fight Akshatha's men since we first engaged them. Having to fall back ahead of them was really galling him."
Kuang smiled. "I imagine it was. Vachir always preferred an aggressive approach. Moldering away up in Chorh-gom all those years must have been torture for him. I'm glad he'll have a real battle with these foreigners. Amazing that they made it as far as they did."
Crane set his cup down, and considered how to phrase his next words. After all, Kuang might find it distressing to hear about the treachery of his predecessor, or be reminded of his disgrace years ago. "Well… they did have some help. We don't know exactly who was involved, of course, but they had supporters who provided them boats to cross the Yangtze, and may have assisted them in their march north. And of course, as you've doubtless read in Master Shifu and Commander Vachir's reports, they are incredibly ruthless in their march through the countryside, burning villages and stealing supplies – and killing the inhabitants."
Kuang grimaced, took a drink of tea as though to wash away a bad taste. "Yes… disturbing to hear that Captain Ushi – former Captain Ushi, I should say – is involved in this. He was never, shall we say, a particularly gifted officer, I'm given to believe, but to so abandon all honor.." The ram shook his head ruefully.
"We're sure it's Ushi leading the main body of their army into the pass," Crane went on. "But the Furious Five have been tracking their leader, Akshatha, through the mountains. He made an attempt to infiltrate the Valley of Peace and assassinate Master Shifu, and, I believe, the Dragon Warrior. At least, his men tried to abduct Po's father."
"Yes, we heard of that," Kuang said.
"When his attempts failed, he headed into the mountains, and we followed. We found a village destroyed and looted, and thought we had caught up to his force last night – but the camp was a lightly defended decoy. I saw no sign of his band as I came here. The Five and the Dragon Warrior will continue to search, but at the moment I can't tell you his whereabouts. He might be making a dash north to Chang'an while the army is tied down with the main body of his forces, but I'm afraid, if he were to emerge from the mountains and find this camp lightly defended on the plain…"
"I understand your concern, Master Crane. I will speak to his Majesty at once, and suggest strongly that we make all speed to rendezvous with the army." He drained his cup, and sighed. "Of course,' he added morosely, "the words 'at once' are relative with an entourage this size. It may be some time before we can start. I would suggest you rest a few hours, take a meal, and then return to your friends. My advice would be for them to make straight for the army. This tiger noble might be anywhere in the mountain glens, and continuing to search for him would be fruitless, with time pressing. They would be of most use facing off against Ushi in the pass. I will have word sent to Chang'an to prepare for siege, and also send to –" he consulted his maps and scrolls briefly, "Commander Shou has five hundred men north of the capital, he could reinforce them in a day or two if he set out at once and pushed his troops." He gave a curt nod. "Yes. Again, my thanks, Master Crane. If you'll excuse me." He stood, gathered up his map, bowed, and left the tent. Thoughtfully, Crane finished his tea.
He wasn't sure exactly when, but sometime in the last hour Vachir had picked up a definite swagger. He'd have to lose it before he got to the main army encampment and dealt with Yuan, he knew, but for now he just felt too damn good. Soon he'd have a battle on his hands, a battle that would allow him to at last come to grips with the hateful enemy who had harried them so long, a battle that would restore the Anvil's damaged and fading reputation to what it had once been. And with the elite of the imperial army and the Emperor himself there to see it, no less. The only thing that troubled him was the fact that he couldn't expect to lead his troops in a full out charge in the front line, as he had done so often; his place would be to form his men into an unbreakable wall around the Emperor. But he had no doubt there would be more than enough opportunity for them to prove themselves. Ushi would fight his way through Yuan's men, Vachir was sure, and when he did, the rhino would be waiting for him.
Eagerly.
But for now, he was content to settle into the small abandoned guard compound, long ago replaced by a larger guard post further north, tucked into a steep draw leading off the pass; let his men rest and have a meal, greet old friends he hadn't seen for two years and size up the new recruits Deshiyn had brought with him. They looked good, he thought, strong, well-equipped and competent, and ready for a fight. He nodded approvingly.
"I was probably drawing off recruits you could have used," Deshiyn was saying. "As soon as we got settled and recovered from the fight at Chorh-gom, I sent the word out pretty broadly. We had men coming in from as far away as Chengdu and Guangxi. Kept only the best, of course," he added.
"You've got us nearly up to full strength again," Vachir said. "Nine hundred thirty-eight, once we're all together, and we'll fill in the rest once this is over. I'd rather have them training with you in Chang'an than out in the field with us, anyway. I'd've sent what we had north, if I could've spared 'em."
Deshiyn noticed Chuluun's mouth tighten in a hard line and bumped a shoulder into the other lieutenant. "Yeah. Sounds like you had a good bunch, there. Too bad that fight at the Yangtze was so nasty. Wish we'd been there with you. Bayu and his men… damn." He slammed a fist into a nearby wall. A puff of plaster dust wafted around them, and Vachir suppressed a sneeze.
"We'll make them pay for it," Chuluun said quietly.
"I am looking forward to it," Deshiyn said with a grim smile.
"Still, we have a few recruits to add to yours," Vachir said. "Tough men, too. Qiru got pulled down in the river by enemy crocs, and fought 'em off – turned up downstream, only a little worse for wear. Another one made it to a boat with an arrow in his leg, just above the knee."
"Anguo," Chuluun said. "He had a little help, but considering he couldn't swim… He's friends with the Dragon Warrior, since we started back," he added to Deshiyn. "Wait till you get a chance to meet Po – you won't believe it."
Deshiyn shook his head. "A panda – hard to imagine."
Vachir chuckled. "Just don't make any judgments until you've seen him in a fight. He's good. Unorthodox, but good."
"He'd have to be, wouldn't he? Hey, remember when we were up north fighting the Khitan and Thundering Rhino had the Kung Fu Council come up to help us? Now that was a battle! Took us… how long?"
"Three weeks," Chuluun supplied.
"To settle things," Deshiyn went on. "Those were the days, weren't they? And now we're back in the field again." He grinned. "Can't wait to see the Furious Five in action. We've heard so much about them, and nearly missed it all. Every time I heard about a battle we should have been in…" He shook his head ruefully. "Well, those days are past. Let me tell you, it gave me a scare, reading your message that Tai Lung had turned up again. Thought we'd be heading back to Chorh-gom for sure! Cat always was hard to kill, but I thought the Dragon Warrior took him out?" He glanced at Chuluun.
"Gave it his best," Chuluun said. "By all rights, he should have been dead, but as you said… hard to kill."
"But that's over now, though, right? I heard Yuan sent you orders to execute him and head up here, so…"
"Well," Chuluun hedged, "He got a nasty dose of cobra venom in a fight in the Valley of Peace –"
"Can't believe you took him there," Deshiyn muttered.
"Didn't have a choice," Vachir said, heading across a small courtyard toward the impromptu kitchen his men had set up.
"But it's settled," Deshiyn pressed on.
"Not exactly," Chuluun said. "Vachir wants the order confirmed before he –"
"I'm keeping him," Vachir growled obstinately.
Deshiyn came to an abrupt halt. "Oh, hell no!" he exclaimed. He rushed to catch up with his commander. "Vachir… no! You can't ask the men to take that on again, to spend gods know how many more years stuck in the middle of nowhere… We just got back in action!" In consternation he grabbed the other rhino's arm, pulling him to a stop. "Vachir," he said fiercely, "the men deserve better than that!"
Vachir glared for a moment, but he couldn't blame Deshiyn. He was asking a lot, he knew it, and there might well be a return – a brief one, he hoped – to Chorh-gom. But Deshiyn hadn't been with them the past several weeks, he couldn't be expected to understand what Vachir had seen, what he planned.
"Look, Desh," he said evenly, gripping his lieutenant's shoulder. "I know it's asking a lot, I do. But things have changed. Talk to Chuluun, talk to any of the men who were with us. Whatever Po did, he knocked that 'Dragon Warrior' nonsense right out of Tai Lung's head. We couldn't've held onto him –"
"Lost our cuffs in Jinxing," Chuluun put in. "Great story, I'll tell you later."
"But once we got our hands on him," Vachir continued, "he stayed with us, and fought these invaders. Still got a mouth on him, but he caused no trouble. He's too good to waste, Desh. It wouldn't be like it was, I can promise you that. Use Chorh-gom, or wherever we wind up, as a base, maybe, march out from there with only a light garrison left behind."
"Leave Tai behind, we wouldn't need the garrison," Chuluun grinned.
Deshiyn was shaking his head. "Maybe. Not that I don't believe you, Vachir, but it's just after all those years, when any little thing could have brought it all down –"
"Goose feather," Chuluun put in.
Deshiyn blinked at him. "What?"
"He picked his lock with a goose feather," the tall lieutenant clarified.
Deshiyn looked bewildered for a moment, trying to think where in Chorh-gom a feather might have come from. "From that messenger Shifu sent?" he finally asked. At Chuluun's nod, he went on. "The one Shifu sent to tell us to beef up security?!"
"Ironic, huh?"
"Infuriating," Vachir grumbled. "And he never saw fit to mention it when we were there, I'll have you know."
Deshiyn was shaking his head. "It won't work, Vachir. Okay, if Tai Lung's got himself under control, which I find hard to believe, and if he's on our side now… It still won't work. Not with Yuan ordering his death. You can't go over his head, Vachir, it's too politically dangerous, and he's too highly placed. You need him for an ally, not an enemy. And the Emperor will back him up anyway, he won't let him lose face."
"Then Yuan and I will have to come to an understanding. I'll speak to him when this is settled."
"He won't back down. Believe me. He's been testy about my half of the Anvil being in the capital since we got there, been hinting that we should pack up and join you. We're popular, Vachir, in a way he's not. Did our hearts good, when we first got to the city, beat up and worn out, and people still came out in the streets to cheer us. They remembered what we'd been, all those years ago, how you always made sure we fought for a just cause, for what was right, not just expedient, or to benefit some noble. Yuan didn't like it then, and he doesn't like us now – and he's never liked you."
"I know that… but I can still deal with him –"
"I don't think so. You were Flying Rhino's student, remember? A lot of the bureaucracy and nobles don't like kung fu masters in their business, and Yuan's right up with the best of them. Thundering Rhino and the Kung Fu Council were a thorn in a lot of sides, running Gongmen City after its lord died… and keeping ambitious nobles and governors from replacing him, with his son banished. When Shen came back, and killed Xiaozhi…" He glanced around, but they were too far from a wall he could pound on. "Well, with the Council down, no one was shedding a tear, you know what I mean? But they also knew that Shen could load this new weapon of his…" he paused, cocked his head speculatively. "Any chance we could get our hands on some of those 'cannons', by the way?"
Chuluun chuckled.
"Sure," Vachir grinned. "You gonna haul them all over China?"
"Okay," Deshiyn agreed. "Maybe it's not practical. And we don't need 'em, anyway. Still…" he sighed. "Anyhow, all Shen had to do was load the cannons on ships, and sail up the coast and right into the Yellow River, everyone could see that. No one figured he'd be content with Gongmen, not with that kind of power at his disposal. So as soon as we got the word, I was ready to start out with the men I had. But Yuan said wait. He wanted to build up a larger force than he had on hand, and round up some transport. We weren't sure how serious these cannons were, but we'd heard some stories from Gongmen refugees that gave us pause. Finally, Yuan was ready to go, got everyone on the march. Two days out, word comes in. The Furious Five and the Dragon Warrior had gotten to Gongmen and settled with Shen. So there's Yuan out there with his army, too little, too late, and looking like a damn fool. So you see where this puts you?"
Vachir had pulled back a half step, stunned, mind racing. A moment later, stubborn anger flared up again, but it was getting harder and harder to see how he was going to get what he wanted.
'Yeah," Deshiyn continued. "They stole his thunder, big time. And he was not happy. Now, he can't get to the Dragon Warrior or the Furious Five, or Shifu, who was there as well. He can't get to Ox or Croc, the people in Gongmen love them. He can get to you, in small, backhanded ways – keep you out of the public eye, and out of his way. He was just fine with our being up at Chorh-gom all those years. But Tai Lung… Tai Lung is well within his reach. And he'd make a nice example for the rest of you, wouldn't he?
He hadn't realized, Vachir thought, he hadn't realized that there was more to it. He was always so direct, so focused on what he could come to grips with, he wasn't good at politics and intrigue and hidden agendas. He could see Deshiyn was right, Yuan wouldn't be reasoned with, the Emperor would not countermand him and allow him to lose face over a recalcitrant, dangerous criminal… and Yuan would never let Vachir hold onto Tai Lung, any more than he would let him get his hands on the peacock's cannons. Good thing the cat was far behind them, in the Valley of Peace, out of reach; it would be tricky enough explaining why that order had been disobeyed. He'd play up the snakebite, he thought, make it sound like a waste of his time to kill a dying man, but after the tiger was defeated… He knew what he wanted, what was best for the Anvil, there had to be a way to make this work… right?
"Commander!" A shout from across the courtyard brought his attention out of his troubled thoughts. He looked up to see Gerel heading toward him, a falcon skimming along ahead of him. At first he thought it was one of Yuan's messengers – he'd seen scouts overhead earlier – but as the bird came closer he saw it appeared to be a mere boy, likely from a nearby village. The falcon settled on the collapsing remains of a wooden cart, and looked up at Vachir with bright, brash eyes.
"He's a messenger," Gerel said, panting a little as he caught up to the bird, "from Master Tigress."
Vachir nodded. "Alright. Let's hear what she has to tell us. Hope it's good news."
Crane felt better after another cup of tea and a light meal. One of Kuang's aides had ushered him into a tent where a handful of young scholars, obviously not long past their examinations and recently appointed to their posts, were having a late breakfast and a discussion on philosophy. Upon being introduced, they eagerly questioned him about some of Oogway's more esoteric teachings, and then the conversation somehow got sidetracked onto the subject of landscape painting. At last Crane knew he would have to leave this pleasant respite and head back into the mountains to find Tigress and the others, and making his apologies he took his leave.
The day was clear, and growing a bit warm; and despite the orderliness of the camp there was still a fair amount of dust being raised as the Emperor's entourage went about their business. He glanced toward the center of the camp, where golden banners were fluttering in the light breeze, and wondered briefly what life was like among the highest levels of society. He guessed that all the luxury and respect probably didn't make up for the amount of work it must take to run an empire, and felt a moment of deep gratitude for his own well-ordered, uncluttered life.
He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of someone calling him by name – and even more startled by the familiar voice. He actually backwinged a pace in surprise as he turned. "Master Shifu?!"
The red panda hurried toward him down the row between the tents. "Crane! What are you doing here? Did the Five locate Akshatha and his troops?"
"What am I doing here?" Crane asked, amazed. "How did you… How do you do that?!" He took a deep breath, trying to regain his self-possession. "We lost their trail in the mountains; they left a lightly guarded decoy camp, and disappeared into the canyons. But we had word that the Emperor's progress was still at Mt. Hua, so Tigress sent me ahead with a warning. I spoke to Captain Kuang when I arrived."
Shifu frowned. "You think that they intend to… but how could they know where the Emperor would be?"
Crane was slightly puzzled. He had thought that Shifu had somehow – and again, he had no idea how the small master did these things – divined that the Emperor was in danger and had then contrived to reach this camp before his students. He'd done the same in Gongmen City, Crane remembered; he had sensed the danger to Po, and had appeared within a day or two in a city it had taken them weeks to reach. Maybe he should have told the young scholars about that. But now it seemed that Shifu was as much in the dark about Akshatha's whereabouts and intent as Crane. So, that being the case, why was he here?
Crane looked around, making sure they weren't overheard. "Tigress and I talked about it before I left, and I thought a lot on the way up here – we know Ushi had allies waiting to assist their march north, and this move by Akshatha, when the Emperor is out of the capital and vulnerable, just seems too well timed. He must be getting information from somewhere."
"Did you tell the captain this?"
Crane took a deep breath. "Only that we lost the trail, and that if they intend to rendezvous with the army they should hurry. The captain seems like a good man, but if there are traitors among his men, or among the courtiers or servants here… I didn't want to chance saying too much!"
"Good thinking." Shifu nodded decisively. "What are your plans?"
"Kuang was going to send messengers to request reinforcements to head to the capital, and get the procession packed up and moving." He looked around. Although there were any number of people moving about the camp on various tasks, none seemed to be readying for a departure. But doubtless Kuang would have to make his report and get permission before he could give the orders to leave. "He asked me to fly back to the others and ask them to join up with the army. Would you rather have me guide them here?"
Shifu considered for a long moment. "No… no. I think the captain is right; the heaviest attack is going to come in the pass, and we should have joined you by then. You'll be needed there. If I'm not mistaken, there is an old abandoned army post not far from here. With the Emperor's guard we can defend the place overnight, if necessary, and move east in the morning. It should only be another day, two at most, before we reach the army. From what I gather, there should just be time for us to rendezvous with General Yuan. Let Tigress know I'm here, and that I'll join you at Tong Pass." He started to turn away, then paused. "And tell Po, no long rest stops."
"Wait… Master, what are you doing here?"
Shifu hesitated a moment, considering whether, and how, to answer. "I had… a personal matter to attend to," he said, vaguely. He looked pensively into the distance, then muttered, "I'm only glad Tai Lung stayed back in the Valley!"
Crane opened his beak, but for the moment, no sound emerged. This was just… so awkward.