He stood before her and stared. Saw her through eyes made aware now, of what she was, what exactly she was capable of and how awesome those accomplishments were. He saw her sitting at the top of the thick wooden pole, grinning defiantly at him and at his chauvinist opinion of her. Then she was snatching a canon from Yao and running towards the Hun leader, reckless and intelligent in her courage. And, finally, on her stallion, forsaking her own life to save his.
And now, kneeling before him like a penitent servant, head bowed in defeat, waiting to be killed for no reason other than the fact that she was a woman. Killed by the person for whom she had risked her life, no less. He saw the hopelessness, the despair in her slumped shoulders. She crouched, curled up as though to protect the few shreds of clinging dignity she had left. It hit him, hard, to see her like that. So accepting, so submissive when she had proven herself, beyond all men, the most passionate. The soldier most abhorrent of defeat had given up.
Shang tore his gaze away from her bent head and saw the sun reflect off the blade he clutched so tightly. He had done this. His verdict had killed every ounce of defiance in her lithe body. And he was sickened at the realization. The sword fell softly to the snow at his feet.
"A life for a life," he intoned, "my debt is repaid."
Mulan looked up at him. Shang's face revealed no more now than it had when he'd reached for the weapon. But he no longer held her sword. He turned away.
"What?!" came the startled exclamation from the Consul. "But you cannot do this!!! You know the law!!!"
Shang silenced him with a look that bespoke of a million twisting emotions.
"I will not be responsible for her death," he told the sniveling aristocrat.
"She is a WOMAN!!"
"She saved my life," Shang replied, immovable. "She saved yours."
The Consul shook his head vigorously.
"That is of no consequence. She is a female, vile snake!! And…"
Shang lost his patience.
"That is ENOUGH!!"
The silence in the snow-filled valley spoke volumes.
"I will not kill her. No one will. That's the end of it."
Yao breathed a sigh of relief at the ruling. Chien-Po thanked the powers that be, and Ling nearly fell over in his gratitude. The Consul turned an alarming shade of purple.
"The Emperor..." he began.
Shang interrupted, loudly.
"We are five hundred miles from the Emperor and his city. Do not concern yourself, Consul; you bear no responsibility for my decisions."
The general looked finally at Mulan. Still on her knees in the snow, her face betrayed weariness and a confusion concerning the events unfolding around her. He saw the blood seep from her wounds, newly opened by the Consul and his ill ministrations, and knew he could not leave her to fend for herself in the freezing cold. He looked at the small group gathered; those who had watched the makeshift trial's proceedings. Yao, Chien-Po, and Ling, he knew would cooperate to the extent of their abilities, she was their friend, or had been. The Consul, in keeping his silence, might demonstrate less willingness to oblige with Shang's decree, but there were ways to take care of even him.
"Ping... Mulan... will be traveling with us."
"She'll... what?!"
Shang quelled this outburst from the ugly, old man with his eyes.
"She is not well enough to travel alone, Consul. Thanks to your careful handling of her, wounds that had only begun to heal are now opened and bleeding. I won't leave her to die, so she comes with us."
He paused.
"I will have your silence. Today's... discoveries will not leave this assemblage. Yao, Chien-Po, Ling, I would have your oaths that nothing you have seen will be repeated."
All three nodded their consent.
"And, you, Consul, if you value your position of esteem among this company, will do the same. Being bound and gagged is not, I trust, a pleasant experience."
The Consul's eyes widened at this poorly veiled threat, but he uttered no contradiction. Indeed his position among the Emperor's courtiers meant little so far from the city's walls.
"Yao, help her back into the tent. Where's the doctor?"
Mulan pushed herself to her feet before Yao could help. Woman she might be, but she refused to rely on someone for assitance. Her hair fell into her eyes and helped hide the painful grimace that lined her face. Yao offered his hand, but she ignored it, walking past with head-lifting dignity. The blanket slipped down her shoulders and hastily she pulled it up around her neck. She stumbled, losing footing in the yielding snow and struggled to regain her balance.
Sympathy blossomed unexpectedly in Shang and he deliberately stifled it. But not before taking an involuntary step in her direction. Yao was at her side first, though, and held onto her elbow as she gingerly staggered into the tent.
"Ping..."
Mulan smiled bitterly as she eased herself back onto the bedding.
"Sorry," Yao muttered. "Mulan. Are you... are you going to be okay?"
She looked up, stunned.
"Yeah... thanks Yao. I'll be fine."
He smiled, unsure of himself, and left the tent.
Mulan watched him go and, at the sudden ache in her heart, she finally gave in to her tears.
And now, kneeling before him like a penitent servant, head bowed in defeat, waiting to be killed for no reason other than the fact that she was a woman. Killed by the person for whom she had risked her life, no less. He saw the hopelessness, the despair in her slumped shoulders. She crouched, curled up as though to protect the few shreds of clinging dignity she had left. It hit him, hard, to see her like that. So accepting, so submissive when she had proven herself, beyond all men, the most passionate. The soldier most abhorrent of defeat had given up.
Shang tore his gaze away from her bent head and saw the sun reflect off the blade he clutched so tightly. He had done this. His verdict had killed every ounce of defiance in her lithe body. And he was sickened at the realization. The sword fell softly to the snow at his feet.
"A life for a life," he intoned, "my debt is repaid."
Mulan looked up at him. Shang's face revealed no more now than it had when he'd reached for the weapon. But he no longer held her sword. He turned away.
"What?!" came the startled exclamation from the Consul. "But you cannot do this!!! You know the law!!!"
Shang silenced him with a look that bespoke of a million twisting emotions.
"I will not be responsible for her death," he told the sniveling aristocrat.
"She is a WOMAN!!"
"She saved my life," Shang replied, immovable. "She saved yours."
The Consul shook his head vigorously.
"That is of no consequence. She is a female, vile snake!! And…"
Shang lost his patience.
"That is ENOUGH!!"
The silence in the snow-filled valley spoke volumes.
"I will not kill her. No one will. That's the end of it."
Yao breathed a sigh of relief at the ruling. Chien-Po thanked the powers that be, and Ling nearly fell over in his gratitude. The Consul turned an alarming shade of purple.
"The Emperor..." he began.
Shang interrupted, loudly.
"We are five hundred miles from the Emperor and his city. Do not concern yourself, Consul; you bear no responsibility for my decisions."
The general looked finally at Mulan. Still on her knees in the snow, her face betrayed weariness and a confusion concerning the events unfolding around her. He saw the blood seep from her wounds, newly opened by the Consul and his ill ministrations, and knew he could not leave her to fend for herself in the freezing cold. He looked at the small group gathered; those who had watched the makeshift trial's proceedings. Yao, Chien-Po, and Ling, he knew would cooperate to the extent of their abilities, she was their friend, or had been. The Consul, in keeping his silence, might demonstrate less willingness to oblige with Shang's decree, but there were ways to take care of even him.
"Ping... Mulan... will be traveling with us."
"She'll... what?!"
Shang quelled this outburst from the ugly, old man with his eyes.
"She is not well enough to travel alone, Consul. Thanks to your careful handling of her, wounds that had only begun to heal are now opened and bleeding. I won't leave her to die, so she comes with us."
He paused.
"I will have your silence. Today's... discoveries will not leave this assemblage. Yao, Chien-Po, Ling, I would have your oaths that nothing you have seen will be repeated."
All three nodded their consent.
"And, you, Consul, if you value your position of esteem among this company, will do the same. Being bound and gagged is not, I trust, a pleasant experience."
The Consul's eyes widened at this poorly veiled threat, but he uttered no contradiction. Indeed his position among the Emperor's courtiers meant little so far from the city's walls.
"Yao, help her back into the tent. Where's the doctor?"
Mulan pushed herself to her feet before Yao could help. Woman she might be, but she refused to rely on someone for assitance. Her hair fell into her eyes and helped hide the painful grimace that lined her face. Yao offered his hand, but she ignored it, walking past with head-lifting dignity. The blanket slipped down her shoulders and hastily she pulled it up around her neck. She stumbled, losing footing in the yielding snow and struggled to regain her balance.
Sympathy blossomed unexpectedly in Shang and he deliberately stifled it. But not before taking an involuntary step in her direction. Yao was at her side first, though, and held onto her elbow as she gingerly staggered into the tent.
"Ping..."
Mulan smiled bitterly as she eased herself back onto the bedding.
"Sorry," Yao muttered. "Mulan. Are you... are you going to be okay?"
She looked up, stunned.
"Yeah... thanks Yao. I'll be fine."
He smiled, unsure of himself, and left the tent.
Mulan watched him go and, at the sudden ache in her heart, she finally gave in to her tears.