Chapter 10: Mourning

It was early evening and the sun hadn't completely set yet. Shang strolled aimlessly through the village, deep in thought. He was thinking about the elusive figure that he'd seen at the inn, disappearing into what was apparently the kitchen. And he was wondering why Mulan had appeared in this village as a woman when she'd been disguised as a boy in every other village she'd passed through. It seemed odd.

He paused before the gate of the medic's house, still thinking about the figure he had seen at the inn. He knew Mulan's slight, lithe figure and he had been so sure it was her in that moment. But it couldn't have been her. She was at the medic's house. He'd seen Khan there, too.

He knew he must have been mistaken about the girl at the inn. After all, he'd only caught a glimpse of her.

He was suddenly thinking about Wu Zhong when he knew her as Ping. She had been the worst disaster in camp when they first started training. He had let her go that one night; and she had turned around and proved him wrong about her that very night, beating the challenge that no one else in camp could. After that, she had become his best soldier. He thought about how she'd come to look for him in the avalanche, thinking of him first and putting herself at risk. About how he felt when he discovered the truth of who and what she was. About how she had said that she did it to save her father. Those words had struck a deep chord inside of him. He understood and couldn't fault her for it; he would have done anything to save his own father.

A wave of grief rose up in him as he thought about that and he fought to suppress it. He remembered the horrific scene of the destroyed village and the valley strewn with the bloody, broken bodies of the fallen soldiers of the Imperial army. His father's body lay out there, too. He remembered how he could barely feel his legs as he walked toward the edge of the ridge holding his father's helmet. And he remembered how she had stood behind him as he made a soldier's memorial and uttered soft words of comfort. In a strange way, though the two of them were commanding officer and soldier she had been his friend, too. She had always cared about him. And that was why she came to look for him in the avalanche, even when she was wounded. It was a purely selfless act. She could have left him and gotten herself to safety with the others. But she didn't.

She did the same thing in the Imperial City, coming there at risk to herself to warn him and the others that Shan-Yu was there with his men. He was so angry at her deception, for not being who he thought she was, that he wouldn't listen to her. She turned out to be right. After that, without even realizing it until this moment, he had made up his mind that he would never doubt her again. He had joined her and her three friends and had followed her strategy. And it had been the right thing to do.

She had risked her life for him again in the palace. Shan-Yu was going to kill him. The Hun's sword was at his throat. She did nothing but take her shoe and throw it at Shan-Yu's head. It had distracted him from Shang and she revealed to him who she was when he turned to her. That had prompted Shan-Yu to leave him alone and chase after her. The Hun leader didn't even seem to be phased that it was a girl that had defeated his army. He merely saw her as the 'soldier from the mountains' and wanted to have his vengeance on that soldier.

Looking back, knowing what she looked like as Mulan, Shang couldn't imagine how he had ever mistaken her for Ping, a boy soldier. True she had kept her face streaked with dirt or oil or something to hide her feminine features and had covered her feminine form. Still, she was so obviously not masculine. He remembered looking down at her as she crouched in the snow, looking cold and vulnerable. He had been too angry to think about it in that moment; but he had realized how lovely she was then and couldn't understand how he could never have seen how beautiful she was before that.

He wondered what his father would have done if he were in his place, and felt the same wave of grief surge inside of him again. He turned, deciding not to go back into the medic's home, and returned to his room at the inn, passing through the main room that was already filling up with customers that had come for dinner.

He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, letting the tears roll down his cheeks as he mourned the loss of his father, something he hadn't had time for. He'd thought about his father many times since his death and didn't quite understand what had finally brought this on now; but he knew the tears needed to come.

All he had ever wanted to do was please his father. His father had always expected so much of him, but he had always encouraged him, too. Shang knew in his heart that his father loved him, even when he was stern and strict with him. He thought about the last day that he saw his father, the day at Wu Zhong when he had made him captain and handed him the newly forged sword. All he had wanted then was to prove to his father that he could be an excellent captain and train his troops well; to make him proud of him. His father never got to see his accomplishments or how he had turned the motley crew of rag-tag recruits into an efficient, competent regiment.

What would his father think of him now? If the general had been in Shang's place, would he have killed Mulan in the mountains after she had saved his life? His father had taught him about honor and duty and tradition. Would his father have just accepted it as his duty to kill this girl without a thought for her as a brave, selfless person who had risked herself for him? Would his father be disappointed in him now for not carrying out the Emperor's law?

"I'm sorry, Father," he whispered, tearfully.

Since the moment he'd left to go after her, he'd had doubts that he could carry out the Emperor's order. There was no honor in carrying it out. Even though she had done something that appeared to be wrong and outrageous and had defied tradition, she had more than made up for it.

He knew he wouldn't be able to return to the Imperial City again. He wouldn't be following in his father's footsteps. He didn't even know if it mattered to him anymore, especially after seeing those fallen troops in that valley, knowing his father was among them. He was uncertain as to what his life would become now. But he knew for certain that he could never, would never harm Mulan. All he wanted was to see her and talk to her again.

xxxxxxx

Mulan worked non-stop in the kitchen all evening. She didn't know where all of these people came from but she didn't mind being busy. It kept her mind off of all the things that she didn't want to think about.

"Well, so far it seems that these guys really are on your side," Mushu commented as she worked.

"Yes. And if all goes well, at least I won't have to worry about Chi Fu anymore."

"Yeah, only the captain. But I can be a magical creature working to protect you if you need me to be," he added.

"Hopefully that won't be necessary," she answered, absently, concentrating on the dumplings she was making now.

"So, you've become quite a good little cook in two days," he teased. "Too bad your captain won't know it's you cooking."

"He's not my captain anymore. And I thought I was going to get out of doing this after I failed the matchmaker's test."

She had meant it as a joke, as part of her banter with Mushu; but a wave of sadness suddenly washed over her as she mentioned the matchmaker's test. That was the day that had been the start of everything.

Even though she had saved her father's life, she would never see him or the rest of her family again. For all intents of purposes, they were dead to each other. Deep inside she knew she would never get over that.

She forced the thoughts and feelings away. She couldn't think about that day or any of those things anymore. It would be too painful.