I'll Make A Man Out Of You, Again

Chapter Eight

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-Eight Months Later-

Mulan stumbles along the rocky path, her weak legs crippling with fatigue. Her ratty clothes are soaked with sweat from the blazing heat and they stick to her body stiffly; the hot sun makes her feel dangerously light-headed. Her now very obvious figure isn't exactly cooperating with gravity, either.

"Try to hurry up, Fa Mulan."

A Mongolian soldier named Altan calls over his shoulder, patient but stern. Mulan had learned fast since being kidnapped that the Mongols were actually quite reasonable, perhaps even more so than the Chinese. All twenty or so soldiers, (with the exception of their harsh leader Daritai), had still been taking into consideration that she is a woman, and that she is with-child. Even while they plan to execute her on the steps of the Emperor's Palace.

Mulan uses the last ounce of her strength to push forward and finally collapses onto the hard, scalding ground. She winces as her arms refuse to push herself up.

"Daritai," Altan shouts ahead, "I think we must have the woman sit in the wagon for awhile. She has walked nearly fifty miles today, and she looks like she could give birth at any time. We wouldn't want to kill her from over-exertion, and where her people can't see, I might add."

"I'll allow it," Daritai returns gruffly.

Altan effortlessly yanks Mulan up off the ground. She feels very grateful for him saying that, even the last part.

"Thank you," she whispers hoarsely, gripping his forearm for support as she staggers her way to the wagon. Mulan settles down between two crates and lets out a blissful sigh. She hadn't rested a second since dawn, fifty treacherous miles away. Thankfully the child showed no signs of arriving yet, unlike what Altan had suggested. But she's at the point where she wonders if it'll be inside of her or not by the time her head's cut off.

If only she had Mushu with her, he would've came up with a plan eight months ago. But the soldier that grabbed her had literally thrown her on his horse and went full speed back to their camp, too fast for her trusty animal friends to realize what had happened right away. Since then, Mulan has spent the entirety of her pregnancy marching alongside the small Mongol company headed to the Imperial City to, surprise-surprise, take down the Emperor. And from what Mulan has heard, the several Mongolian companies are doing quite successfully in invading China over the past months.

Is Shang dead? Was the company killed? she wonders nearly every moment of each day. Perhaps Mushu went back to the camp and told Shang about her kidnapping. Perhaps Mushu decided not to tell him and try to save her all his own. Perhaps Mushu panicked and has been wallowing in self-pity for the whole eight months. It kills her not to know anything, especially that Shang either thinks she's at home and fine or kidnapped and possibly dead.

Mulan takes the time in the wagon to carefully pull off her boots to pour the blood out of them. It's a good thing she never had vanity about her feet like most women, because right now they look a little too similar to a freshly skinned animal. But really, her feet are the least of her concerns, there are plenty of other things to worry about. For now she's just going to enjoy her wagon ride.

-Meanwhile, On The Opposite Side Of The Imperial City-

"How many casualties was that, General?"

Shang numbly stares at the stream where he's watering his horse. "Seventeen. Thirty-two, total. We're down to our last ten men."

Ling looks sadly down the cliff where the battle had just taken place, where the bodies of their comrades still lay in the dirt. They had just barely managed to retreat through a pass and lose the remaining soldiers of the Mongolian company. But it was too late, for seventeen.

"Well the draft went out months ago. Surely there are some companies doing well," Ling tries.

Shang looks up at him with a cold gaze. "We're down to our last ten men," he repeats. "Thirty-four of China's best soldiers are dead. If the majority of our finest have been killed, how do you think the other companies are doing?"

Ling looks solemnly at Chien-Po and Yao, who stand beside him glumly.

"Hey, Mul-"

Ling stops himself but not before getting a hard stare from Shang's eyes, burning. After awhile, he grimaces and shakes his head slowly.

"Nevermind," he utters. "I speak for myself and everyone when I say that we should just accept the fact that she's dead."

"Don't say that, man!" Mushu whispers, dragging his tail in the dirt as he walks up to the stream. "My girl wouldn't ever let herself get kilt. I just know she wouldn't."

Shang glares at him. "Well maybe I wouldn't be saying it had you just-"

"Don't you think I know that? I know it's my fault! And really, I could say somethin' about you not lettin' her come with y'here in the first place, but I don't wanna keep playin' the blame-game," Mushu retorts. "That ain't gonna bring her back."

"He's right, General," Chien-Po adds quietly.

They stand there in silence except for the sound of the babbling brook and their skinny horses slurping it greedily. Shang sighs.

"We need to start moving fast," he says. "I have it under good authority that the Mongols are headed to the Imperial City to take it over."

The men raise their eyebrows in surprise, but it doesn't faze them very much.

"They took Mulan, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let them take this country."

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