Anshi: The Lost Eagle of the Steppes

Red Stag Leaping

As soon as the troops arrived from camp, Anshi ordered twelve soldiers to surround the women on the ground. They stood an arm's length apart from one another, each with two swords drawn and pointed downward while crossing blades with the men beside them. The women were instantly protected. The body of the criminal lay in an unceremonious heap on the ground and not even a piece of canvas from the litter was spared to cover him up, his destroyed face exposed. and the eagles were perched on the back of a horse, their pitiless eyes disappointed that no sweetmeats had followed their kill. The group waited with the troops, clearly angry, primed, and ready on the rise behind their leader and his vanguard, banners whipping in the breeze.

In an embarrassed voice, Xiao Mian asked, "Brother, may I at least wrap in a cloak? I would rather not have the enemy see me in this disgraceful state."

He looked back, his face understanding but resolute.

"Sister, I want their leader to see the conditions you, Boloramaa, and the baby are in. Nothing altered. I want them aware from the start of what this day has cost the three of you and how the honor of my tribe has been injured. We will demand redress or action. I will not be moved by anything they may choose to say or do..."

She stepped back, understanding his first move, but Qiang moved by her side and steadied her with a strong arm around her shoulders. She was too exhausted to do other than lean in, feeling sheltered and safe.

The two factions sized one another up. Anshi had already singled out the leader of the opposition and the visage of the greying and broad-chested Chieftain on the crest facing the knot of Lost Eagle tribespeople looked as formidable as Anshi expected. The elder nudged his warhorse a pace forward and the banner next to the Chieftain fluttered, exposing a leaping red stag embroidered brightly on the front. It ran a bell in Anshi's mind. He vaguely remembered that coat of arms. Somewhere... but was it a friend or foe that surfaced from distant memories? He was unsure.

A deep voice shouted down. "Who dares slaughter a man under my protection? What newcomer to this place dares to kill a scout of mine?"

"I, Chieftain of the Lost Eagle Tribe, Envoy of the caravan sent by my adoptive brother, Lan XiChen of the Lan Sect of Cloud Recesses. Your man is a thief of my sheep and a molester of my sister, and her sister who had to hide, forced into sudden birth because of his actions and his attempts at murder. Innocent women, shepherding the tattooed sheep belonging to my tribe. He was killed as he attempted to defile my sixteen-year-old sister. He deserved death."

"I have heard of this Cloud Recesses, but I do not recognize your banner. It is not known here. Therefore I do not recognize your right to dispense any sort of justice here. Introduce yourself properly. If I am not satisfied, we will end all discussion."

"I am Anshi Dilnur, lost youngest son of Mongol Chieftan Daniyar, of the Great Eagle Tribe and Khasak woman and Chieftan's wife, Rakhat the Red. I seek news of any survivors of my slaughtered tribe. I seek the people responsible for their deaths and my enslavement. It is my personal quest."

The older man bristled in sudden fury and stared stonily down from the distance at him.

"It was reported that nobody survived. I inspected the slaughter myself."

"Then you know the Little Singer's body was not found."

"Others, also, had disappeared by that time. Many of the leader's families had vanished. Removed, buried, burned. No trace. Who knows. I could not find answers and many imposters have materialized, seeking to dupe me and others over the years. I am hardened to bogus pleas and merciless to those who make them. I have no reason to change my mind. I will not speak on the death of an old friend nor the children of whom I was fond. Prepare for battle."

He wheeled his horse around and turned, the banner beside him fluttering, the stag dancing as he walked the horse off. Anshi froze. A  younger version of the middle-aged man's face flashed in front of him, laughing as he picked up a tiny child and tossed him into the air. A banner of a red stag fluttering on a yurt behind them. He desperately searched his mind. Name. What was his name? Anshi felt panic rise and desperation made recall almost impossible. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the rising panic. He inhaled deeply, hearing his mother, Yenay, speaking to him. "Breathe. Breathe. Settle your core. Clear your mind." And suddenly the answer was there.

"Uncle? Uncle Red Deer?" Anshi's voice broke for a moment as he utter a long-gone nick-name, his own endearment for a favored Uncle. The elder in front of him paused and then shook his head as if wiping away cobwebs, embracing his remembered pain but not able to hear the truth behind the call from the young man behind him. He nudged his horse ahead.

Anshi trembled and suddenly, without warning a song forced its way outward. A delicate soothing lullaby. And the lilting voice that uttered it was a child's perfect and clear soprano.

"Buuwei... Buue ai...Buuwei..."

Difference cadences, different octaves, intricate yet simple. The phrase told children not to fear anything; promised warmth, and a full belly. A song is sung by mothers and fathers holding hundreds of generations in soothing arms. Then handed down to their grown children for night times with their grandchildren. And in this case, sung by an indulgent Uncle who used to visit and was charmed by a little Singer each time. He clapped his hands to his ears, the slowly slid them down to his lap. He was mesmerized, terrified, and sadness flooded his heart. Sadness and sudden hope. The song continued, bouncing from rise to rise, echoing crystal and clear through the valley below as the Singer, standing alone, facing upward, sang with a throbbing desperation in his notes. Look at me. Look at me and see, it pled behind the lyrics. It is me, Anshi. The Singer. The Emerald. Your brother's son. Risen from death and degradation. Please, someone, recognize me just once?

His horse was jerked to a stop, and his head dropped sorrowfully, Afraid to listen more, yet afraid not to, he let his head sink to his chest. Past betrayal fought with dawning belief. He motioned to his men to stop. Not to follow him as he collected himself. Then he turned toward the young chief, dismounted, and handed the reins to his Captain despite the attempts to argue. He walked slowly forward as Anshi also advanced, hands empty and outstretched. They paused and faced one another three feet apart and the still cautious eyes of the elder met clear, guileless, and emerald-green ones. He stood dazed and shaken and the young man walked quietly closer.

"Uncle? Do you know me?"

Arms opened and gathered him in and held the younger man as he began to weep.

"Shi Shi. My little Shi Shi. Uncle is here. Uncle knows you now. Quiet, my boy. Quiet." Behind them both, there was not a dry eye among the troops on either crest.