The first blush of dawn painted the eastern sky in soft hues of rose and apricot, gradually chasing away the lingering shadows of night. A gentle chorus of birdsong filled the air, a cheerful symphony welcoming the new day. The world outside slowly stirred, the quiet hum of early morning traffic began to replace the stillness. Inside her room, Chinua tied the last sword straps around her chest. As she bent down to pick up her dagger, the door to her room swung open. She looked up and found Khunbish standing outside the door with Khenbish.
Khunbish looked at Chinua and said, his voice low and ready, "Everything is ready."
Chinua tucked the dagger inside her waistband. She turned around to take one last look at her room. She sighed with longing, feeling as if she didn't know how long it would be until she would return again. Although the room was not grand, she had become fond of it—a tiny space with a wooden bed and a table that she had called her home for the past several years. She let out a sigh and walked out of the door into the early morning sun.
She made her way to the training ground with Khunbish and Khenbish walking beside her. This morning, there was no morning practice session, but the training ground was filled with soldiers—the very ones who would travel with her to Ntsua-Ntu to gather more soldiers before heading to Nue-Li City.
She made her way to where Bastsaikhan stood. She looked down at him and said, her tone respectful but clear, "I am leaving the oldest soldiers with you. After we leave, you can sleep in my room. I have already had the soldiers collect all of my belongings and put them away."
Bastsaikhan reached inside his robe and pulled out a white braided yarn. "Your left hand," he said. Chinua smiled and stretched out her right hand to Bastsaikhan, who slowly tied the knot. He spoke with quiet reverence. "Ancestors, please protect Chinua so that no vines can bind her hands and no stump can cause her to fall. May Chinua achieve her goal and return home safely with her soldiers."
She looked up to find a soldier had arrived with her horse. She looked at Bastsaikhan and said, her expression softening slightly, "You take care."
She took one last look at Bastsaikhan, stretched out her arm, and gently patted his right shoulder. She then walked up to the soldier with the horse. She took the reins from the soldier and led her horse away as the soldiers in the training ground began following her towards the main entrance of the military camp.
As Chinua approached the front entrance, she noticed that the soldiers who had left the previous day had already arrived. Some of the soldiers arrived with their families, while others arrived on their own. She saw sons wiping away their mothers' salty tears. She felt the grasp of children's hands refusing to let go of their fathers' hems. She saw departing husbands gently patting their wives' heads.
Chinua mounted her horse, signaling she was ready to depart. She rode out of the front entrance as other soldiers began mounting their horses and following her.
Naksh quickly kissed his two wives on their cheeks, smiled at them, and said, his voice trying to sound confident, "Take care of yourselves and the children. I will see you soon. Remember, if you have any issues, go seek help from Chief Behrouz."
Sarnai handed Naksh two yellow protection charms. "Take these," she said sadly. Her eyes were glistening. "One for you and one for brother-in-law, Jeet."
Naksh took the two yellow paper protection charms with a smile, tucked them inside his waistband, then mounted his horse. He sighed, looking down at his two wives and three children. He gave his wives one last smile before he slowly led his horse away toward Jeet, who was waiting not far from him. Then they joined the soldiers.
"Remember, don't starve yourself," Anu said, his voice warm with concern, handing Od another package of food. "Take good care of yourself and pay attention to your safety."
Od smiled at Anu and said, sincerely, "I promise you; I will take good care of myself. You also have to promise me that you don't work too hard." He saw that Haitao's group was near him, so he gave Anu a hug. "Father, remember... don't work too hard and take care of your health."
Anu said, his voice thick with emotion, "You too, son."
Od mounted his horse, waiting on the sideline until Haitao's group was nearby. He joined them and continued forward.
As they rode along the mountain road heading towards Ntsua-Ntu City, the air thrummed with a low, percussive beat, a steady pulse of thousands of boots meeting the dust and cobblestone. The sun, a wan coin in a hazy sky, cast long leaning shadows that marched alongside them, distorted companions on their unwavering path.
The steady, rhythmic beat of their ride, a sound that had been the world to them on the open road, began to change, mingling with the growing murmur of the city ahead. The dusty scent of the road gave way to the sharper odors of woodsmoke, commerce, and damp stone. Buildings, at first scattered and low, rose in height and density, funneling the column into narrower streets. The wide, unspooling horizon was gone, and they knew that they were two days away from their home and one day away from Ntsua-Ntu City.
On the last day of their journey to Ntsua-Ntu City, when Chinua and her soldiers entered Txoo Village, the streets were clear of villagers, and the sound that echoed on the street corner was that of the soldiers' footsteps, as if the small village of Txoo knew of their coming and was prepared. Along the street that the soldiers rode, were bags of water and small packages of food left on the tables on both sides of the street for the soldiers to grab as they rode past.
This was a typical tradition of the Magoli people to show appreciation for the soldiers as they were going to war. As they rode by, some grabbed bags of food or water, or both, from the tables on both sides of the street.
By nightfall, as the stars began to prick through the twilight, the outline of buildings faintly materialized, a darker shadow against the less dark sky. Chinua and her soldiers had reached the edge of the city not with a triumphant flourish, but with the quiet, bone-deep exhaustion of a long journey's end. Before they reached the top of a small hill, they already heard the chattering voices of soldiers echoing into the night. When they reached the top of the hill overlooking the east side of Ntsua-Ntu City, the first thing they saw was thousands of tents neatly lined from the foot of the hill all the way back to the city wall.
Chinua led her soldiers down the small hill towards the city, which alerted the soldiers at the foot of the hill. Although the soldiers stood up with their weapons in their hands, they didn't attack as they knew from Chinua's armor that she was their general, the general who would lead their expedition to the Northeast Military Camp. From a distance, Misheel and Esen were waiting for Chinua and her soldiers at the east city gate. She halted her horse before Misheel and Esen; she dismounted as the two ministers approached her.
Esen gently bowed to Chinua. He raised his head, looked at her, and said, his voice respectful, "Welcome back, General."
Chinua asked, her voice crisp, "How many soldiers?"
Bilguun stepped forward and said, "General, there are seven thousand soldiers."
Chinua eyed the young man, a hint of curiosity in her tone. "And you are? The crown prince told me ten thousand."
Bilguun straightened. "No, General, the number is seven thousand."
Chinua sighed, her heart heavy. She knew the shortage of soldiers was probably due to the ministers. "What's your name?" she asked, looking at him.
"My name is Bilguun. I'm your Captain."
Chinua said, with a nod, "It's an honor to be working with you. This is my Captain, Haitao." She pointed to the seven men standing behind her. "These are my personal guards and my advisor." She paused, her gaze sweeping over Bilguun and his men. "Since we are going to be in this for the long term, I suggest you all get to know each other."
Bilguun looked back and found that many of the soldiers who arrived with Chinua were female soldiers. He looked at Chinua and with hesitation asked, his voice uncertain, "General, what about the female soldiers? Do we need to prepare a separate place for them to sleep?"
"There is no need to prepare anything special for them," Chinua said, her voice firm and unwavering. "They are soldiers, and therefore they will be treated as soldiers like everyone else. My only request is that the female soldiers and the male soldiers cannot bathe together."
Bilguun nodded and said, understanding dawning in his eyes, "I understand. I will make sure that this is accommodated."
Chinua said, her gaze sharp now, "Captain, I suppose you were the Captain who was in charge here before I arrived."
Bilguun said, "I am, but these soldiers are volunteers."
"In that case, I want you to relay my rules to them since from now on they will be under my command," Chinua said, her voice taking on an authoritative tone. "First, surrendered soldiers and civilians are not to be harmed in any way. Second, we do not steal from civilians. Third, relationships between soldiers are prohibited within the chain of command. These are the three rules that all soldiers under my command must obey. Any soldier who breaks any of these rules will be punished by death."
Bilguun said, bowing deeply, "I will make sure that every soldier knows these three rules." He bowed to Chinua and headed with his seven men towards the group of soldiers.
Chinua watched as Misheel and Timicin walked into the gate and disappeared into the city. She chuckled and turned to Esen. She asked, a playful glint in her eye, "Does the royal father have a message for me?"
Esen said, a slight smile on his face, "His Majesty doesn't have any message for Chinua personally, but His Majesty said he would come out tomorrow to send Chinua and her soldiers off." He smiled at Chinua. "I will show you your sleeping quarters."
Early the next day, the city was still shrouded in the cool, gray light of pre-dawn as the soldiers began their movement. The tents that were standing the night before had already been taken down. The soldiers were ready, their belongings already mounted on their horses, as they were gathering the last few items that they would carry on their backs.
Before the sun rose, the horns sounded from above the city wall; as Chinua and her soldiers looked up, they saw that the person blowing the horn was none other than Batukhan and standing beside him were Qara and the other ministers. She jumped onto the back of her horse and began slowly riding away, leaving the early morning sky behind her. Then Qara's scream made her halt her horse.
"Chinua!" Qara's voice echoed, raw with emotion. "Chinua!"
Chinua had never heard Qara call her name with so much emotion before, so she grabbed her reins and turned her horse to look at Qara, but Hye grabbed her hand.
"As the commander-in-chief of the army, you can't turn around," Hye said, his voice firm as he looked at Chinua. His grip was tight.
Chinua said sadly, her voice quiet, "This is the only time that she had ever called my name so directly."
"Do you think that you are the only one who has mothers and fathers standing behind that city wall?" Hye said, still with a firm tone, his eyes unwavering. "Do you think that the soldiers riding behind you don't miss them?" His hand tightened around Chinua's wrist. He spoke urgently. "If you turned around, your soldiers would also turn around. Seeing the tears of their mothers, wives, and children would weaken their hearts and therefore weaken their fighting spirit. Soldiers might lose the will to fight because they miss home."
She looked at Hye as a single tear rolled down her right eye. She turned her horse around and continued riding further away from the city, not looking back at Qara; her soldiers followed without looking back as the crying voices of their loved ones slowly faded away from their ears.
The soldiers moved with a different kind of rhythm now than when they arrived, not the urgent press toward a destination, but a more measured, almost reluctant withdrawal. Faces, less grim than on the ride in, held a mix of weariness and a quiet anticipation of the open road ahead, leaving the temporary shelter and the unseen lives within the city walls behind them as the first weak rays of the sun began to touch the highest spires.