The Life and Times of Master Han Fei

Chapter Ten

[A response to the question: "What is love?]

"To be humble at home, earnest at work, and faithful to all. Even among wild tribes none of this must be dropped."

-Confucius

The Qiang fought unlike any other enemy Han had ever, in his admittedly short experience, fought. They did not hesitate, nor did their faces betray any emotion. Where Han's face was already flushed, sweating profusely due to both the heat and his desperate efforts to stay alive, the Qiang warrior that had engaged him in a sword fight was not at all affected by exhaustion.

"Little Thunderbolt!" cried the prince, clumsily parrying a sudden and unsuspected strike. The horse had, in his typically equine skittishness, bolted over to Han's area at the very edge of the treeless clearing, from across the other side of the stream.

The horse carried on forward, stomping on the bodies of some fallen soldiers in his haste. A stray arrow grazed Little Thunderbolt's coat, and he neighed indignantly, rearing and then barreling over some unsuspecting Qiang fighters.

"Good going!" cheered his master. Han was forced into ducking soon after, in time to avoid being decapitated by his rival's bronze blade. He swore, saying several words that would have earned him several cuffs on the ear had his old nanny Meiling heard him say them.

Fending off his seemingly tireless opponent was proving almost impossible; Han was conceding ground rapidly, retreating at an unsustainable rate. The situation growing dire, he abandoned his conservative defense, swinging his sword wildly instead, surprising the Qiang fighter for once.

Zheng joined them in their dance of death, masterfully blocking the probing strikes of the nomad warrior. "Go!" yelled the captain at the exhausted Han in between counterstrikes. "Leave! Go back to your kingdom! Oomph!" Captain Zheng grunted as he fended off a particularly powerful blow. "Your mission here is complete; don't risk your life anymore; get on your horse and go!" he panted; the sides of his lips were curled upwards in a smile of wild exhilaration.

The prince turned and ran, sprinting in the direction of Little Thunderbolt, ducking and diving away from the arrows sent his way. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he spotted Li Si, Lu, and Colonel Jin, who had evidently wormed his way away from the thick of the battle, being backed up against the trees, attempting to stave off both fatigue and the continuous blows of their attackers. It was clear that it would be a futile attempt.

Han's horse was waiting, right in front of him, only a few paces away now. Just a few more paces, a few more bursts of energy, and the prince would be able to ride off into freedom, return to security, and be delivered back to his home, the land he was destined to rule someday. His muscles, his heart refused to obey his mind however, and he watched as his feet turned his body away from Little Thunderbolt, away from guaranteed safety. He watched helplessly, as his body acted of its accord, autonomous from his mind, as it charged towards his surely doomed comrades. He watched helplessly as his arms lifted his sword over his head, ready to engage the three Qiang master swordsmen in battle.

He swung at the brute that had Lu pinned a tree trunk, but the enemy combatant merely batted him away as one would a fly; the Qiang fighter clearly regarding Han as not even worth his time.

Roaring in indignant outrage, the prince channeled all of his anger into a powerful downward strike which his opponent could only just block in time, pirouetting nimbly to stop Han's sword from cutting open his head. It was a masterfully executed move, a breathtaking display of assured technique, though it allowed Lu to pick himself up from the forest ground and reengage his Qiang foe in heated combat.