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
Chapter XXXIII – Riders on the Storm
The rains had come.
The Victor of Lake Myojin observed the scene before him in stony silence. An endless column of ostrich horse cavalry crawled at a snail's pace down the waterlogged mud path that had once been the mighty Omashu Highway. The monotony was broken only by the frequent accidents which further disrupted progress.
As if on cue, the general's dark reverie was broken when a rider was thrown from his mount as it stumbled on a loose stone, causing several other ostrich horses to buck and panic as well. The column halted again as the wounded were tended and the mounts led away.
He had not celebrated his triumph at Lake Myojin and neither had the Army of the Granite Mountains. Scarcely had the dead been buried before he issued orders to begin moving south. Nifong had made sacrifice to the Earth Spirit in thanks for the great victory and instantly resolved to strike the final blow against the invaders.
But the rains had come.
South of the Ping Tou Mountains the prevailing winds reversed and in these lower latitudes the weather moved from east to west, bringing the monsoon rains off the Leyte Gulf which dominated much of the southeastern Earth Kingdom. In the distance, far to the south and east under the iron grey sky, they could see the worn out remains of the Granite Mountains, the ancient and eroded peaks from whence the majority of the army had descended so many years ago.
Deng had been young then. They all had been. Time had flown, and now, grizzled veterans who had spent their lives in battle, they dared to hope that the war would be over by the winter solstice. Most had no idea what they would do with their freedom, for they had never experienced it and knew not what it meant.
At first they had made rapid progress, sustained by their hard bodies, their belief in the righteousness of their cause and the hope of final victory. The leagues had melted away as summer turned to autumn. The Army of the Granite Mountains had followed the Coast Road until it ended at the Changbai Forest. There, at the city of Ningbo, the Omashu Highway began its long journey to its namesake city far to the south.
At its head, the army had passed the ancient granite obelisk which marked the end of the Coast Road and the beginning of the highway. Etched deep in its timeless surface the mysterious symbol "75" appeared circumscribed inside a shield. The remains of a monorail line ran alongside the highway, or perhaps the highway ran alongside it, for both were of ancient and indeterminate origin. Nifong had wondered as he passed whether the monorail had once connected Ningbo with Amiganza to the north or perhaps to the great cities of the east and south.
But the rains had come.
Before Ningbo and its decaying monorail line had disappeared from view, the roiling sky had been covered with a layer of thick, black clouds. Thunder and lightning had erupted in fury. Hail had fallen with alarming and unusual frequency, breaking bones and denting armor. The mood of the army swung wildly from confidence and optimism to depression and dark forebodings. Superstitious rumors ran rampant that the Spirits had abandoned them and that disaster was certain if they should continue their campaign against the last Fire Nation colony.
Today the rain had slowed to a fine mist and drizzle, but it never stopped. Not for days, not for weeks. Violent squalls often appeared without notice, drenching everyone to the core. One soldier had gone insane and killed himself by lying in the road and opening his mouth in a sudden downpour. He had drowned in minutes. Such tales had spread horror and despair amongst the army.
Such melancholy thoughts weighed heavily on Iroh's adversary, but there was little to be done except move forward.
"We're about halfway there, General," his aide remarked beside him in an optimistic tone.
"Yes, Captain, but we make little progress, and every day we slow further."
"Does it matter though, sir?" the younger man responded, "The enemy has been smashed! The lake armies are liberating the Nasu even now and Mequon has nothing but its weakened garrison. What else does the Fire Nation have to stop us? The Army of the Song wastes its strength before the gates of Omashu, and General Li has forced the Army of the Cree Valley to withdraw from the positions it's held at great cost for three years."
Nifong did not make an immediate answer. The only response was the drizzle and the slow trickle of men and ostrich horses before them.
"Are you worried about Prince Iroh?" the younger man finally prompted. His commanding officer's failure to respond unnerved him and demanded he fill the empty air with something besides the sound of the rain.
"No," the green clad general replied after some thought, "He has his hands full in the Nasu and will probably be hard pressed to escape the predicament his cousin has bequeathed him. Gela is many leagues away from the Yoshi River."
"If he can rally his men," the Captain reasoned, biting his lip, "he could defeat the northern armies if he finds a way to separate them."
"Yes," Nifong agreed, "he showed considerable skill at Nomura. He does not frighten easily nor does he break under pressure."
"Are we making a mistake then, General?"
"Time will tell, Captain," he answered cryptically, his voice uneasy, "though it is certain that the sooner we arrive at Mequon the better."
At that moment several soldiers bearing a simple palanquin approached. The covering parted to reveal a fat man in green robes with a greasy, drooping beard. He stank of perfume.
"Greetings, General."
"Wu Ti," Nifong acknowledged curtly, "Are they ready?"
"Oh yes, General," the obese servant reported, clearly expecting the question, "I just received word from the Ningbo Arms Works that both engines are now complete. They are on their way as we speak, though how they'll get through all this mud I have no idea."
"Two? We ordered three."
"Yes, well, they have two completed. The third won't be finished for another month."
"Then we will have only two," Nifong observed with a sigh.
"Why have they failed to honor the contract, Wu Ti?" the young captain inquired.
The fat man's expression hardened.
"That's Master Wu-Ti, young man," he responded officiously, "and the Chief of Staff doesn't have to explain himself to you, but I suppose I'll answer anyway for the benefit of our mutual superior."
Wu Ti turned back to Nifong.
"Raw material, General, they couldn't get enough of the higher grade steel. Apparently several loads were diverted for delivery down south."
"No need to ask by whom," Nifong remarked with a trace of bitterness, "Anything else?"
"Well, my Lord, we did receive another letter from the Council."
Nifong sighed once again. Of course, it was they who had diverted the steel. He looked briefly to up the sky and was tempted to despair. Even the threat of imminent conquest, it seemed, was insufficient to unite his people. He looked back to his Chief of Staff.
"You read it, of course, so what does it say?"
The fat dandy handed his master a huge green scroll.
"Oh, of course I didn't read it, General!" Wu Ti replied, placing a hand on his chest in a melodramatic pose of the unjustly insulted, "That would be an unforgiveable breach of professional ethics!"
The Earth Kingdom hero snorted at this and shook his head in frustration.
"Oh go away, Wu Ti, it's a foolish leader who doesn't know his own staff."
"But, sir, what about your reply?"
"How do you know I must reply," Nifong riposted as he opened the scroll, "if you didn't read it?"
Wu Ti opened his mouth to answer, but no sound emerged.
Quickly he scanned the note. The Council of Five forbade an attack on Mequon and demanded acknowledgement of the order. No need to ask about the steel indeed. He rolled up the scroll and replaced it in its case. He would burn it later. He had played politics with the Council for years. Today would be no exception.
"I will make no reply, Wu Ti, is that understood?"
The Chief of Staff closed his mouth and nodded once, still dumbfounded both at getting caught and at the General's unexpected response.
"Now go and make sure the artillery we have paid for so dearly is delivered. We will need it to break the walls of Mequon."
The curtain closed and the palanquin was taken away.
The rain fell and the afternoon wore on. The general's adjutant departed to collect the dispatches from the second watch. Infantry now marched past the aging general as he watched impassively from his perch. A heavy set officer riding an ostrich horse approached. He dismounted and came to stand before his commanding officer.
"Hail, General!" he saluted.
"Colonel Liu," Nifong acknowledged in return.
"This weather is killing us."
The colonel was not known for his subtlety.
"Progress is slow," the older man admitted.
"It's not the progress, though that's bad enough, it's the men, General. You've heard the rumors?"
"Yes."
"If a man believes he is going to die, it is far easier to kill him than if he believes otherwise."
Nifong considered this for a moment before replying.
"What is your point, Colonel?"
"If we go into battle in this condition we'll lose... badly."
"Battle against whom?"
"Whomever we might face," Liu answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"That's not an answer."
"We're not going to reduce that fortress if the men believe the Spirits have abandoned them," the blunt infantry officer insisted. His assessment was almost certainly correct.
"Does Colonel Fong believe the Spirits have abandoned us?" Nifong countered.
Colonel Fong was the youngest cavalry commander in the Army of the Granite Mountains and was legendary for his twin trademarks of aggressiveness and optimism. Liu hated him for both traits. Nifong was clearly goading him.
"No, I just saw him this morning," Liu replied, clearly unhappy at the change in subject, "He's happy as a cow pig in shit. I listened to him telling his men that the weather was a gift from the Earth Spirit, sent to test our mettle before our final, glorious victory at Mequon. I don't know which was scarier, Fong's speech or his officers cheering him on."
"His men will do anything for him, Colonel. Just like yours. That's why I promoted him, not for his admittedly prodigious skill in combat."
"Fong believes six impossible things before breakfast every day, General," the infantryman warned, "He is a great fighter, I grant you that, but he's reckless. More than that," he continued stubbornly, "he's built a division of reckless men and women. I say that's dangerous."
"He played his role well enough at Cam'ron and Myojin."
"Yes, and you should hear him crow about it. He says there's nothing to stop us this time and exhorts his men with stupid jokes like "last one to Mequon is a rotten turtle-duck egg"."
"His optimism is of course, legendary."
"His optimism is not contagious, General, if anything he makes the morale situation worse. While he jabbers on about spirit world challenges and glorious victories, the rest of the army sinks into mud and despair."
"There will be time enough to dry out and recover our spirits before the ramparts of Mequon," the aging general countered.
Liu placed his hands on his hips and expelled a large breath.
"Let's hope so, sir, because at this rate, we'll need a boat to get there."
Nifong couldn't argue with that, so he let it pass.
"Have you despaired then too, Colonel?" he asked finally.
"No, sir," the heavy set man replied with a grin and a confident voice, "How long have I served you? Ten years if it's a day. I don't despair. I don't hope. I don't expect. I just do what you tell me to do, or do I what I think needs to be done. Sometimes," he continued deadpan, "I even have to tell you what I think."
The Victor of Lake Myojin allowed himself a smile. Liu and those like him would never break.
"Would that every soldier had your mettle, Colonel."
"Yes, sir, but not my fondness for women and drink," he prevaricated with a laugh.
"Such things are part of life too, Liu, everything in moderation."
"That they are, and I thank the Earth Spirit – and Tui and La for good measure – for that! Do you have a woman somewhere, sir?"
Nifong, caught off guard by the question, answered truthfully without thinking.
"Yes… but she is far away now," he replied wistfully, "I have crossed oceans of time and waged war without end for her sake, but… I never shared my life with her."
Liu looked at the ground, water dripping from his helmet onto his breastplate. He was a simple soldier, who, like most of the Army of the Granite Mountains, loved his country and his general. Such a confession from the man he revered most saddened him.
"That's something worth fighting for though, right, General?
"Yes," Nifong replied with a glimmer of hope, "it is, and I will see this through to the end in the hopes of winning a life with her, Colonel, and no man is going to send me to the Spirit World before I achieve it. Well," he equivocated, his countenance falling, "unless Fate has decreed otherwise."
"Let's not worry about it then, sir, let's take care of Mequon and let Fate take care of itself."
Nifong considered this briefly before replying.
"Good advice, Colonel... for I know of no man yet who has escaped his Fate once it has been spun."
They watched in silence as the column crawled along before them. Soon the rains began to pick up once more, and in the distance flashes of lightning were soon followed by peals of thunder.
