Chasing the Phoenix (12 page)

Those soldiers disciplined enough that they were not scrabbling in the dirt for coins turned to their commander for instruction. But Glorious Legend was as confounded as anybody else. He looked from side to side as if searching for a clue as to what was expected of him.

To make sure he did the right thing, Darger jumped down from the wagon and, hugging Glorious Legend in a forthright and manly fashion, kissed him on both cheeks. “What a splendid day this is, friend Glory,” he said. “What a happy, happy day.”

A small, tenuous smile blossomed on the officer's face. “Is it really—?” he began. Then the first of the Abundant Kingdom's soldiers came through the gate in a rush, dropping their flowers and ribbons so they could draw the weapons they'd carried strapped to their backs.

Darger stepped out of the way as the Hidden King's men swept by. With the defenders driven back from the gate, Surplus's rangers were free to race in after them, whooping fiercely, setting fire to tents, slashing bags of flour, swinging swords, firing guns in the air, and in all ways spreading hysteria among the surprised enemy. In their wake, First-Born Splendor's fresh new cavalry passed through the gate, galloping past or (in some cases) leaping over the disabled wagon. Beyond them could be seen lines of walking fire cannons moving inexorably down the pass toward the broken defenses.

In the confusion, the Mountain Horses soldiers lost all military discipline whatsoever. Panic spread like a contagion among them, affecting even those who had no idea what was going on, save that it was catastrophic. The Southern Gate cavalry were equipped with maps copied from those that Little Spider had hidden within the wings of her doodled butterflies, and her annotations as well. So they were able to swiftly seize the magazine and other key points and to begin rounding up the commanding officers.

Dismay overcame Glorious Legend's face as he realized that he was looking at defeat and that it was all his own fault for not responding to Darger's trick quickly and with resolution. Dazedly, he fumbled for his pistol—to attack his foes or to kill himself would never be known—and found that the ambassador for the Abundant Kingdom had already slipped it out of his holster and was pointing it at him.

“I will now accept your formal surrender,” Darger said.

*   *   *

HISTORY WOULD
record this day as a turning point. A king who had looked to be no different from any of a dozen petty quarrelers and starters of wars assumed the luster of a man on whom fortune smiled. An army that had appeared to be harmless poured into the Land of the Mountain Horses like a wind long frustrated by a mountain chain flowing through a river gap. A cause few had ever believed in caught fire. Quickly assimilating the conquered army into his own forces, Ceo Powerful Locomotive moved east to Bronze, taking that famed stronghold by surprise and without violence. From there, the combined forces moved north, toward Peace.

All that, however, was in the future. In the midst of this great victory, the Dog Warrior was seen at the head of his troop, seizing the enemy's flags and standards and demanding that their generals disrobe before him. Swiftly, and with no thought for modesty, he and his rangers chose the highest-ranking and most resplendent of the discarded uniforms and changed into them on the spot. Some of the enemy prisoners who had been rounded up and disarmed gawked openly at the women until Vicious Brute laid several of their number on the ground with one savage blow apiece.

So swift was the victory that there were still Mountain Horses soldiers who had no idea what had happened when the rangers had completed their transformation into a troop of high-ranking officers. “Are we ready?” Surplus asked.

“Our mountain horses are fresh, our saddlebags are packed, and we all know what to do,” Fire Orchid said. “If we are not ready, then nobody ever was.”

But before they could leave, Capable Servant came running up to Surplus, a bundle of red cloth in his hands. “Most noble sir!” he exclaimed. “Your admirable friend, the Perfect Strategist, told me to give you this. He had it made expressly for you. He said that you would know what to do with it.”

Puzzled, Surplus unfolded the cloth. When he saw what it was, he could not help but laugh. “Indeed, I will!” he said. “Please tell your master that this is a brilliant stroke on his part.”

Then they all rode off on their swift mountain horses and disappeared into the north.

 

6.

An ambitious general once challenged the Perfect Strategist to a game of
wei qi,
thinking to demonstrate his tactical superiority. Indeed, at the end of the game the Perfect Strategist's pieces were in disarray and his opponent's pieces dominated the board. But when the general went to leave, he found his way blocked by soldiers with drawn swords. “You won the temporary advantage,” the Perfect Strategist told him. “But you failed to see the larger picture.”

From that day onward, the general was his most devoted follower.

—
STRANGE
TALES OF THE
SECOND
WARRING
STATES
PERIOD

THE ROAD
to Peace wove through a labyrinth of low hillocks overgrown with pale-pink flowering almond trees. These were the ancient rubble mounds of those impossibly tall (or so legend had it) buildings that had been abandoned at the fall of Utopia and mined for their metal skeletons in the chaotic times that followed. When the gray walls of the city loomed up in the distance, its gates were open and guards moved lazily on its watchtowers, obviously expecting no trouble.

It had taken days of hard travel to reach the capital, but when his raiders came within sight of the city, Surplus was certain that they had far outstripped any of the enemy's spies who might have escaped the rout at Battlefield Pass. The last anybody within Peace would have heard—and messengers must have been sent daily—their army held an impregnable position and the Abundant Kingdom was negotiating terms under which it would surrender and return, tail between its legs, to what would with luck be a significantly reduced territory.

“Unship the flags and pennants!” Surplus cried when they came in sight of the first sentry post, marking the outermost ring of the city's defenses. “Look sharp, now. Let's put on a good show.”

Vicious Brute went up and down the line, making certain that the green and gold flag of the Land of the Mountain Horses was toward the front, followed by the standards of the armies of Peace and its subordinate cities, those of its recent conquests in the center, and the flags of Southern Gate and the Abundant Kingdom bringing up the rear but held low, like trophies, as might be expected if their lands had been defeated and all but conquered. Fire Orchid brought her mountain horse alongside Surplus's at the very front, saying, “My place is at my husband's side.”

“I am hardly your husband,” Surplus reminded her.

“Not yet. But that is only a technicality.”

“We're ready,” Vicious Brute said. He took up position just behind his commander and the bandit queen.

“Then let's go.” Surplus's steed broke into a lope. The others followed suit, gradually picking up speed until they were going faster than any nonchimeric horse was capable of. As they approached the sentry hut, soldiers came running out to drop a barrier pole across the road and vigorously waved their arms, signaling the troop to stop. Unheeding, the raiders galloped down the road, flags flying and horns blowing, their agile mountain horses leaping over the pole with ease.

At their head, Surplus felt his blood tingle. This was the life! His only regret was that he couldn't somehow be simultaneously standing by the road to watch himself pass. It must surely be a stirring experience to see the raiders go by, all dressed in the green and gold uniforms of the Land of the Mountain Horses, mounted on near-magical steeds, led by a gallant with the head of a dog and a woman whose ever-changing and preternaturally red hair snapped and flowed like a banner.

“Victory!” the raiders called out to the gaping soldiers as they passed, and “Great news! Stunning victory in the south!” and “Spread the word—victory!”

If, then, when the troop had disappeared up the road to Peace, the guards assumed that these dashing soldiers, dressed in the distinctive uniforms of their own forces, were hurrying to the city in order to proclaim a decisive victory for their own side … well, who could blame them for the misunderstanding? The raiders did, after all, ride the beasts after which the country was named and that were, as a matter of national pride, never sold outside the borders of the Land of the Mountain Horses. And who would ever dream that anybody would attack a fortified city with a force of only twenty men?

Not long after, they came upon the most extraordinary ruin Surplus had ever seen. It was a curving sail of bricks that reached halfway into the sky. Before its partial collapse, Fire Orchid explained, it had been the cooling tower of a power plant for a type of energy whose workings were lost in the distant past. “Let us take the long way around it,” Surplus said. “It is inevitable that a messenger will be dispatched to convey the news of our arrival to the city. We shall speed his journey by not offering him the opportunity to pose uncomfortable questions.”

*   *   *

THREE TIMES
Surplus's raiders—the “Dog Pack,” as they were already beginning to call themselves—overran sentry posts. At the third post, a young nobleman emerged from the hut and stood helplessly by the side of the road, mouth open, paralyzed in amazement. Seeing him, Surplus flung out an imperious arm. “Vicious Brute!” he commanded. “Steal that lordling for me.”

Instantly, Vicious Brute tugged on the reins of his beast, altering its course. Straight on he sped, right at the unmoving nobleman, until it seemed the young fool must surely be trampled underfoot. But at the last instant Vicious Brute veered away and, leaning out far to the side, nabbed his prey with one arm and slung the man down before him on the mountain horse's neck.

Once out of view of the last guard post, the Dog Pack slowed to a trot again. Surplus brought his horse alongside Vicious Brute's and hailed the noble in a familiar tone.

A little dazed, the young man said, “Who are you, sir?”

“My name is unimportant. The great news I carry is all. I can see by your clothing that you are well born. May I assume that you know the ruling bureaucrat-lords of Peace by sight?”

“My mother is on the Council of Seven,” his captive murmured with becoming modesty.

“What a stroke of good fortune!” Surplus exclaimed. “You will be able to confirm that we are talking to the right people, then.”

“Well…”

Now at last they were approaching the city proper. They had veered around it to the east, so that they had arrived at the gate named Eternal Joy. There Surplus reined up and, confronting its startled guards, stood in his stirrups so that all could get a good look at him. In a loud voice, he cried, “Grand news! Stunning victory in the south!” before turning away.

In his wake, Vicious Brute lingered long enough to shout, “Meet us at the south gate!”

Thus Surplus proceeded, leading his rangers around the city to the Forever Harmony Gate in the north, the Harmony Peace Gate in the west, and finally to the largest of them all, the Eternal Peace Gate in the south. Since even at a brisk trot it took several hours to wend their way through the endless ruins of Utopia, by this time all the city was aware of them and the Lord Bureaucrats of Peace had assembled in the south-gate courtyard for a welcoming ceremony and to hear the news.

Through cheering crowds they rode, toward a reception platform at the head of the square. There were seven puzzled-looking dignitaries atop it, clearly surprised to see no faces they recognized in the troop of soldiers wearing their own colors. “Is that the Council of Seven? Is everyone there?” Surplus asked their unwitting captive.

“Oh, yes. They—”

“Who is their chief?”

“That would be Wise Solon, the man standing at their very center. He—”

“Put the simpleton down, Vicious Brute.” Surplus raised an arm, and at his signal the entire Dog Pack urged their mountain horses forward, as fast as they could go, scattering the citizens before them. At the platform, he pulled up and threw his reins to one of the ceremonial guards standing at its foot. Up the stairs he ran, taking them three at a time.

Behind him, his troopers were thrusting flags and banners into the hands of more guardsmen. They mounted the steps on Surplus's heels, and before any of the Council of Seven could react, each one of them discovered a knife at his or her throat.

Pointing a stern finger at the oldest of the batch, Surplus commanded, “Kneel!”

A gasp went up from the crowd.

Simultaneous with his commander's demand, Vicious Brute put firm yet gentle hands on Wise Solon's shoulders and, with solicitous murmurs, helped him into the required posture with a minimum of discomfort. Meanwhile, to either side, the other six members of the council were also being helped to their knees.

At the top of his lungs, Surplus cried, “You are fortunate men and women, for you have lived to see the end of an age of darkness. Little Spider! You know what to do.”

Little Spider, the bundle of red cloth under her arm, was already sprinting toward the flagpole at the top of the square. Swiftly, she ran down the colors of Peace. With equal rapidity, she attached the cloth Capable Servant had provided them to the ropes and ran it up to the top of the flagpole.

A low moan went up from the crowd when the pennant of the Land of the Mountain Horses was struck, followed by a gasp when they saw what it had been replaced by.

To the wonder of all Peace, the ancient flag of China now flew above the city.

“China the Great is restored!” Surplus shouted with all the volume he could muster. “Let all her citizens rejoice—the Age of War is over! The Hidden Emperor has assumed his robes of office and the warring nations will once again be one!”