Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus
A/N: Based of course on the famous St. Crispin's Day speech from Shakespeare's Henry V. As Tom Baker (the Fourth Doctor, for those interested) once remarked, "If you tell everyone where you stole it from, it's not plagiarism…it's "homage"." And why did I steal it? Because Iroh is worthy of it.
Chapter XXX – The Happy Few
"Hey, wait a minute!" boomed a familiar voice across the banquet hall.
Gao, startled by the interruption, turned to face the irate merchant of Shanxi.
"What is this!?" the fat merchant reproached, pointing an accusatory finger at the storyteller, "I thought you said there's no sex in this story!"
"I did, Lord," the old man replied, once again flummoxed by the fat man's interlocutions, "and I swear I have not lied."
Trimazu squinted at the storyteller, a shrewd and suspicious expression on his face.
"I think you're full of crap!"
Zuko, arms crossed, ignored the offensive peasant and instead regarded his uncle closely. Iroh's eyes were pinched closed, a look of discomfort on his face, as if he were expecting a blow. Each comment from their host caused his guardian to flinch ever so slightly.
"Oh, please!" Trimazu retorted, "Iroh's obviously in love with that smokin' hot Chieng woman and after that little exchange there's no way they don't end up together! You're just never going to own up to it though are you, you wretched old bastard!? You're absolutely determined that we get no sex at all, aren't you!?"
The banished prince failed to stifle a small smile at his guardian's obvious distress. His amusement was short lived. Zuko barely stifled a cry of pain as he felt Iroh's iron grip on his wrist under the table. Trimazu immediately zeroed in on the source of the outcry, his face lighting up like a child receiving a gift.
"Ah, what, you don't agree, Li?" the merchant wheedled, leaning over Iroh and leering at the scarred young man.
"Uh…" Zuko waffled, clearly unprepared to provide a response.
Iroh opened one eye to study his nephew, in turn allowing himself a hint of a grin at his nephew's predicament, but refused to let go of his wrist.
"Well out with it, young man!" the merchant cried affably, "We don't have all night," then adding in his conspiratorial tone, "Or rather we do, it'll be sunrise before we're done at this rate, but we shouldn't waste it now, should we? Mmm?"
Receiving no reply the fat man felt free to plow ahead.
"So which is it, Li, don't you think old Iroh's in love with the girl, or don't you think she sounds totally hot?"
"Oh dear gods," Chen Ho injected in a tone of exasperation and defeat, "Can't you just let the performance continue without these incessant interruptions? Despite what you may think, Trimazu, your guests are not here for your crass antics or your silly and pointless cross examinations."
Zuko thanked Agni for the surly neighbor's comment as he desperately tried to think of a response.
"Nonsense, my friend," the master of the house replied in his matter of fact voice, "My sparkling personality is always the highlight of everyone's evening! Now," he said turning back to the banished prince in full prosecutorial mode, "Let's have it, Li!"
Chen snorted, but looked over at Zuko with heavily lidded eyes. Governor Tao, drink in hand, also looked over. Clearly he had to respond.
"Uh…no, I don't think she sounds… hot, in fact she sounds a lot like my bitch sis –," a quick yank on his wrist encouraged him to correct himself quickly, his voice rising half an octave, "I mean she sounds a lot like that bitch, Princess Azula!"
Zuko's eyes darted over to his uncle, who frowned at his nephew severely, whether at the narrowly aborted error or the negative assessment of the engineer he couldn't tell.
"Haha, maybe so, Li!" boomed the fat man as he cast a sidelong glance at Iroh before addressing Zuko once more, "Though by Gao's account I daresay this Chieng woman doesn't have a treacherous bone in her body, and to boot she seems to have a softer side that Ozai's daughter was born without!"
Stifling the urge to agree and shooting his uncle an accusatory look, Zuko replied, "Well, I guess I wouldn't know. I never heard of this woman - or most of the people in this story - before tonight."
Without thinking Iroh drew brew breath to reply, but Trimazu quickly followed Zuko's glare and turned his attention to the retired general.
"Well how about you, Xian, what do you think of our sexy engineer?" the merchant asked, his eyes bulging with barely suppressed glee, "Should we ask Gao here to insert a few pornographic scenes for our …aural pleasure, mmm?"
Iroh looked ill, his face coloring noticeably, "Uh… shouldn't we return to General Nifong soon, Lord?"
"Good heavens, Xian!" the merchant exclaimed with a chuckle and a gesture with his drink that left some on his sumptuous vest, "You are a prude!"
"No, Lord," Iroh contradicted smoothly, "but I believe our storyteller already said that we shouldn't expect romance in this tale and I must admit that seems reasonable in a war story. Anyway, I think I'd like to know more about… our, uh, hero's reaction to his great victory."
"Yes!" Governor Tao injected fervently, "I agree with him, Trimazu, enough with the stupid fixation on this fascist whore!"
Iroh's jaw clenched and his expression hardened at Tao's remark, but he did not turn from his host. The merchant's eyes widened slightly and his lips betrayed the ghost of a smirk. The aging general forced himself to smile.
Just then a servant tapped Trimazu on the shoulder and whispered, "A moment, your Enormity?"
"What, yes?" he replied absently, his eyes still locked on Iroh.
"The dessert is ready."
"Oh thank heaven," the master of the house cried with relief, finally turning from his guest of honor, "Do bring it in! I'm starving!"
"Yes, you look like you're wasting away," came the predictable barb from Zuko's right.
"I am! I am!" the obese merchant agreed, patting his ponderous belly for emphasis, "As you said, dear neighbor, I don't get this figure eating tofu! Oh, but I must say the pork I ate earlier is giving me terrible wind!"
At this he made a face, leaned over and strained, but nothing happened. A ripple of shocked horror echoed up and down the nearest tables of guests. This was apparently beyond the pale, even for Trimazu. Iroh and Zuko, transfixed with horror, found themselves completely unprepared for their host to make good on his threat from the carriage ride.
Governor Tao rolled out of his seat to avoid the blast that never came.
"Great Spirits, man!" Tao roared, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
The fat merchant resumed his normal seating position, a disappointed look on his face, and replied, "I just told you, Tao, wind! It just won't come out! Well, we'll just see about that after dessert!"
"Trimazu," began the Governor, desperately trying to control himself after this truly monstrous impropriety, "you make a big deal about farting in public, but I don't see you doing very much except making a scene," then, pointing an accusatory finger at the trader, "You know, I think you behave badly just so you can get a reaction!"
"You are joking, Lord Governor," Chen Ho asked incredulously, "just how long has it taken for you to figure that out?"
"Ha! Tao, what now? Are you calling me a hypocrite, mmm?" cajoled the fat man with a twinkle in his eye and ignoring his neighbor once again, "I assure you, I've killed so many servants with my uncontrollable wind that my own kitchen refuses to serve me my favorite dish of chicken in mint sauce! I pray for your sake that you are not present at a banquet where they make available this fine, but extraordinarily effervescent delight!"
The silence in the room was deafening. Perhaps realizing he might actually have gone too far this time, the merchant pressed forward.
"Okay, yes, well, while we are served the best sweets in the four plains region, let's take Xian's sensible suggestion and return to our hero!"
"Soon, Lord, soon," Gao promised, anxious to recover the audience's attention after the merchant's horrifying attempt to evacuate his bowels in public, "But first, we will see how the Fire Nation successfully bridged the mightiest desert on Earth…"
The orders had been issued, but the army refused to move. Panic had spread amongst the soldiers when it became known that they were to march across the Dune Sea, for no one had ever heard of such a feat.
Iroh held council with the general staff in his tent to decide what to do with the unwelcome news. The punishment for insubordination in the imperial army was usually severe. The punishment for refusing an order from a member of the imperial family was death. The debate would likely be ugly, the outcome uglier.
"I told you this would happen," Tien Shin reproved through gritted teeth, "General."
"What exactly has happened?" Gan asked in his clinical tone, "Let's get the facts out on the table."
"The written orders were distributed at the beginning of the second watch," Nikon supplied, "the brigade commanders, including Prince Tien Shin, gave no indication that the company commanders anticipated any issue with the orders. About half an hour later I received multiple reports that the soldiers were refusing to decamp. Maybe a half hour after that I received a written request signed by representatives from all but the second and seventh infantry divisions for a meeting with General Iroh and I to discuss the plan to enter the desert."
Tien Shin barely waited until Nikon had finished before he once more took the offensive.
"I can't believe this wasn't anticipated. Did you really need anyone to tell you?" he rankled, ignoring the new daimyo's barb, "especially after I warned everybody?" then turning to address Iroh directly, "This is your mess, brother, what do you intend to do about it now that we have open insurrection?"
"I will meet them and listen to their concerns."
"The penalty for refusing to obey an order of the imperial family is death, Iroh!" Tien Shin replied in shock, "If you dare show weakness here how long will it be before men think nothing of disobeying our orders?"
"You said yourself this plan was madness, Tien Shin," the Crown Prince retorted, "yet now you favor executing our own men for having the courage to say so?"
"No, I favor executing them for the crime they have just committed," the elder Prince replied in his calculated voice, "and to avoid a dangerous precedent. If you fail to follow through on the punishment required by law you will have proven yourself as weak as your cousin. Further, if you brook this insubordination Iroh and live to return home, rest assured you will be prosecuted for this failure – whether I survive or not!"
"Executing our own men will solve nothing, Tien Shin," Iroh countered, ignoring the insult and his own rush of anger, "and if you care about having men follow you, then you should take more care to give them something worthwhile to follow!"
"Be that as it may, General," Commander Tojo injected, slowly shaking his head, "We explained the orders. They know the fate of the Fire Nation is at stake, but they believe we will either die in the desert, or die outnumbered and outfought on the steppes of Mequon."
The young general paused to consider this.
"I understand, Commander," Iroh finally replied, standing up and straightening his uniform, "Very well, I will address them now."
Iroh and his comrades approached the center of the camp where thousands of Fire Nation soldiers stood in quiet expectation. A knot of junior and non-commissioned officers stood ready to receive the general staff.
"Hail, General Iroh!" they cried in unison as Iroh approached and saluted.
The leader of the Army of the Great Divide stopped in front of them.
"I am told the army refuses to move," the Crown Prince began without preamble in his best theatre voice and a relaxed smile on his face, "over some concern regarding our supply of water and the strength of our enemy. Have I heard right?"
The men in front, one of whom to Nikon's surprise was Jin, his former tank driver, shifted nervously and nodded.
"Very well, with whom am I dealing then?"
After some consternation, a middle aged man in the uniform of a non-commissioned officer finally spoke. His voice was rough and used the poor grammar and barely understandable accent of the outer islands, but his sentiments were carefully composed.
"There aren't no leaders 'ere except yerself, Highness; 'tis is no rebellion. Y'er our general and we're true to the Fire Lord, yer father, and ta the Fire Nation. We haven't moved, m' Lord, cause we don't understand how we kin survive the desert nor how we kin overcome the enemy even if we do beat our way through. Every man of us'll throw down our lives for our country and the Fire Lord, our great Father, but what good will it do to throw our lives away for naught?"
Iroh considered this for a moment before mounting a nearby supply crate. The crowd, which had buzzed with hundreds of individual conversations, fell silent to hear the words of the Fire Lord's son.
"Well spoken, soldier!" Iroh began, his voice loud and strong to address the greater audience, "and I do not regret this opportunity to speak to my comrades face to face. The soldiers of the Fire Nation deserve no less from those whose privilege it is to lead them in honorable combat."
Relief washed through the mass of soldiers at this pronouncement, for many had feared the wages of their recalcitrance would be the revival of the ancient punishment of decimation.
"I am told that we cannot cross the Dune Sea because we cannot carry enough water for the crossing, and that if we do, we shall be outnumbered and outfought by our enemy."
A few men cried in agreement at this, but Iroh went on unperturbed.
"To these charges how can I respond, but with the truth? Judge for yourselves by my delivery and countenance whether what I say now is good and right."
"The desert can be crossed and by the Spirit of the Sun we will cross it! The Dune Sea has as much water as Lake Laogai and more - trapped though it is in the salty pools of the innermost desert. Every one of you witnessed the departure of our mighty dreadnoughts and their mechanics nearly a week since. For what purpose did they leave in advance of the rest of our host? Why, to prepare for us the water we will need to cross the wasteland. We have only to meet them at the appointed place to replenish our precious resource."
Here Iroh paused as the crowd digested this.
"But what of the odds, General?" an unseen soldier cried, "We hear we're outnumbered two or three to one against!"
Then Jin the tank driver shouted, "Nifong destroyed us at Myojin with all of our weapons, your Highness! How can we hope to face him now?"
Iroh looked over at his staff, locking eyes with Tien Shin, whose face was an impassive mask, before returning his attention to the crowd. One of the elder officers then stepped forward to address him directly, using the sonorous and lilted speech favored by the lesser nobility.
"General," he said with conviction and sorrow, "would that we had but ten thousand of those who fell on the bloody shores of that accursed lake! Would that we had but a few of those dreadnoughts that met their end in the dark waters! Then we would follow you to the very ends of the Earth!"
The crowd buzzed with agreement at this sentiment, for it seemed fairly spoken.
"How many here wish it were so?" Iroh cried in response, his voice echoing over the crowd.
"Would ten thousand or a hundred thousand more mean victory if the Spirits have decreed otherwise? No! We had tens of thousands more at Lake Myojin and yet the terrible fate of my cousin and those brave souls who perished with him that day could not be unwritten!"
"Yes, we are outnumbered! But I hold that numbers will not help if the Spirits have decided against us! And if they have decided in our favor, then we cannot lose! Were we not outnumbered at Han Tui? Were we not outnumbered at Gar Sai? Were we not outnumbered at the Coral Sea? Yes! Worse even than today! Yet victory was ours at those mightiest of battles!"
"But comrades, if we are fated for victory, then I would not wish for one more man to come with me into this blasted hell. For the fewer who ride with me to victory, the greater the honor of our triumph shall be!"
"No, I wish for no more. Let the honor and glory of our great enemy's downfall belong only to us! The strong, the brave, and the faithful! I have commanded the army to move, but let it be known that I shall not force even one soldier to accompany me across the wasteland. Not one! Instead let all those who refuse this noble course be allowed to depart the camp without penalty, discharged from the service of the Fire Lord, and as common citizens may they make their way back home."
"For I know, dear comrades, that in years to come, those who live through this trial will be called upon by their friends and families to account for where they were and what they did on the great battlefield of Mequon! Those few, those happy few, who join me today in pursuit of this great destiny, shall write their names large in the history of the Fire Nation and hold in their hands the fate of the entire world!"
"Come with me now, all of you, and let the Children of Agni go forth together as one to win the greatest victory the world has ever seen!"
General Iroh saluted the soldiery, and with a single cry they returned the gesture. He dismounted his makeshift rostrum and entered the desert on foot.
The Army of the Great Divide followed.
