The Legend of the Condor Heroes Chapter 38 – Part 6

Guo Jing’s hands were free of their bonds. He lunged forward to snatch the jian, but the blade was wicked sharp and had already sunk to the hilt. Genghis Khan was startled and cried, “Seize him!” The eight axemen dared not harm the Prince Consort. They flung down their weapons and hurled themselves at him.

Guo Jing’s anguish was beyond bearing. He gathered his mother into his arms and swept a low kick that sent two of the axemen flying. His left elbow shot backward and caught a third full in the chest. The generals shouted and pressed in from every side. Guo Jing lunged for the rear of the tent, seized the hanging fabric in his left hand and tore with all his strength. Half the golden tent collapsed and fell over the heads of the generals. In the confusion he cradled his mother and ran.

He heard the war-horns blaring. Soldiers mounted and gave pursuit. He called out, weeping, “Mother!” again and again, but Li Ping did not answer. He felt for breath at her nostrils. She was already dead.

He held his mother’s body against him and plunged into the dark. Men shouted and horses neighed on every side. Torches flared to life like a field of stars. He ran without knowing where, and presently saw Mongol soldiers to the east, west, north and south. Fierce as he was, how could one man stand against a host of over a hundred thousand? Had he been mounted on the little red horse, her speed might have carried him clear, but on foot, with his mother’s body in his arms, he had all but no hope of escape.

He ran on in silence, thinking that if he could only reach the foot of the cliffs, his qinggong¹ would let him climb them. No Mongol soldier could follow him up. He could hide there, and find a way out afterwards.

He had not gone far before a great shout rose ahead. A body of cavalry came charging down, and in the flare of the torches he saw the leading general plainly: red-faced and white-bearded. It was Tchila’un,² one of the Four Heroes of the empire’s founding. Guo Jing swerved aside from the dao Tchila’un swung at him. Instead of fleeing, he drove straight into the formation. The Mongol host roared as one.

Guo Jing’s left hand shot out and seized the right leg of a squad leader. At the same instant his right foot pressed the ground and he launched himself up. He landed astride the horse, settled his mother’s body carefully, flung the squad leader to the earth, and snatched the man’s long spear. Mounting, laying his mother down, hurling his enemy, seizing the weapon: the four things flowed in one breath. He was a tiger given wings now. He clamped his heels in, whirled the spear, and charged out through the rear of the formation. Tchila’un bellowed orders and sent the army after him.

He had broken through the enemy line, but the way he was galloping lay in exactly the opposite direction from the cliffs, and the further he rode, the further away they were. Should he ride south, or make for the cliffs first? He had not decided when Boroqul³ came up with another thousand horse. Genghis Khan, meanwhile, was stamping with rage, and his order went out that no arrows were to be loosed. Guo Jing must be taken alive. The host closed in layer upon layer, while several thousand riders galloped far to the south and drew up in formation to cut off escape.

Guo Jing smashed through Boroqul’s thousand. His clothes and his horse were splashed with blood. Had the Khan not ordered him taken alive, so that the Mongols dared not shoot and in the fighting all gave him some ground, how could Guo Jing, fierce as he was, have broken out of the encirclement? He felt that his mother’s body was already cold in his arms. He forced back his tears and rode south. The pursuers fell further and further behind, but the sky was already growing light. Deep in the heart of the Mongol lands, ten thousand li⁴ from the Central Plains, with one horse and a single spear, how could he ever shake off the pursuit and reach his homeland?

He had not ridden far when dust plumed ahead and another body of horse came thundering towards him. Guo Jing wheeled his mount east. But the horse had fought and charged all through the night, and its strength was spent. Without warning its forelegs buckled, and it could rise no more.

Desperate as the moment was, he would not abandon his mother’s body. He gathered her in his left arm, gripped the spear in his right, and turned to face the oncoming riders.

The horsemen bore down on him. From the dust came the whine of arrows. One struck the spear in his hand with such force that the shaft jolted and the spearhead snapped clean off. Another arrow flew at his breast. He dropped the broken shaft and caught the arrow, only to find the arrowhead broken away as well. He stared, and then looked up. A single general had reined in his men and was riding over alone. It was Jebe,⁵ the Divine Arrow, who had once taught him archery.

Guo Jing called out, “Shifu, have you come to take me back to the Khan?”

Jebe said, “I have.”

Guo Jing thought to himself, Today I cannot escape the cordon. Better to fall into my shifu’s hands than a stranger’s. Let him have the credit. He said aloud, “Very well. First let me bury my mother.” He looked around and saw a low earthen mound to the left. He carried his mother up it, dug a hole with the broken spear, and laid her in it. The short jian was buried deep in her chest. He could not bear to pull it out. He knelt, bowed several times, and scooped sand over her. Then he thought of her whole life of hardship, raising him to a man, never thinking she would end buried in a place like this. Grief broke through him and he flung himself face-down on the grave and wept.

Jebe dismounted and knelt before Li Ping’s⁶ grave, bowing four times. He took off his quiver, his iron bow and his long spear, everything, and gave them all to Guo Jing. Then he led over his own horse and thrust the reins into Guo Jing’s hands. “Go,” he said. “I fear we shall never meet again.”

Guo Jing stared at him. “Shifu!”

Jebe said, “Years ago you risked your life for me. Am I not a man, that I would not risk mine for you?”

“Shifu, you are defying the Khan’s orders. The punishment will be severe.”

“I have ridden east and west for the Khan and won no small merit. At most he will have me flogged. He will not cut off my head. Now go, quickly.”

Guo Jing hesitated.

Jebe said, “I fear my men will not obey the order to let you pass. The soldiers I brought are all veterans from your western campaign. Go and ask them yourself whether they would take you for a reward.”

Guo Jing led the horse closer. The soldiers dismounted at once and prostrated themselves. “We humbly see the Noyan⁷ off on his way home to the south,” they cried.

Guo Jing looked up. Indeed, they were the very men who had fought beside him through life and death, charged through fire with him on the western campaign. He was deeply moved. “I have offended the Khan, and I should suffer severe punishment. If you let me go and the Khan learns of it, you will be severely punished too.”

The soldiers said, “The general’s kindness to us is as a mountain. We dare not be false to it.”

Guo Jing sighed. He raised his hand in farewell, took the spear, and mounted.

He was about to spur the horse forward when dust rose ahead and yet another body of horse came into view. Jebe, Guo Jing and the soldiers all turned pale.

Jebe thought to himself, I will bear the Khan’s punishment to let Guo Jing go. But if I fight our own troops now, that is open rebellion. He shouted, “Guo Jing, go quickly!” Then he heard the leading riders bellowing, “Do not harm the Prince Consort.”

Everyone froze. The oncoming horsemen drew near, and the banner they flew was the Fourth Prince’s.

Out of the dust came Tolui at a gallop, arriving in the blink of an eye. He was riding Guo Jing’s little red horse.⁸ He reined in beside Guo Jing, dismounted and said, “Anda, you are not hurt?”

“I am unharmed. Jebe shifu was about to take me to the Khan.” Guo Jing spoke the words to cover Jebe, so that the Khan would not learn what had truly passed.

Tolui cast a sideways glance at Jebe, then said, “Anda, take the little red horse and go, quickly.” He set a bundle on the saddle. “There is a thousand liang⁹ of gold here. We brothers will meet again.”

A man of valour needs no more words in such an hour. Guo Jing swung up onto the little red horse. “Tell Huazheng meizi¹⁰ to take good care of herself. Let her marry another. She must not think of me.”

Tolui gave a long sigh. “Huazheng meizi will never marry another. I think she will surely ride south to look for you, and when she does I will send men to escort her.”

Guo Jing said hastily, “No, there’s no need for her to come looking for me. The world is vast. She could never find me. And even if we met again, it would only bring sorrow to us both.”

Tolui said nothing. The two looked at each other in silence. After a long while Tolui said, “Go. I will ride with you a way.”

The two rode south side by side for thirty-odd li. Guo Jing said, “Anda, you may see a friend off a thousand li, but you must part in the end. Please turn back!”

Tolui said, “Let me ride a little further.” Another ten-odd li, and they dismounted and bowed to each other. They embraced for a time, shed tears, and parted.

Tolui watched Guo Jing’s figure grow smaller and smaller across the steppe, until it shrank to a dark speck and vanished. He gazed south, stood alone a long while, and then turned his horse slowly home, heavy of heart.

Footnotes

1. 轻功 — qīnggōng. The martial art of body lightness. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

2. 赤老温 — Chìlǎowēn. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

3. 博尔忽 — Bó’ěrhū. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

4. 里 — lǐ. A traditional unit of distance, about 500 metres or one-third of a mile. ↩

5. 哲别 — Zhébié. Literally spear and divine archer, in Mongolian. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

6. 李萍 — Lǐ Píng. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

7. 那颜 — nàyán. A Mongol title meaning lord or noble, borne by great commanders. ↩

8. 小红马 — xiǎo hóng mǎ. The red horse Guo Jing tames on the steppe, a sweat-blood steed. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

9. 两 — liǎng. A traditional unit of weight, one-sixteenth of a jin, and the unit in which silver was reckoned. See Wuxia Wiki. ↩

10. 妹子 — mèizi. The colloquial form of 妹妹, little sister; after a name it marks affection, not kinship. ↩