Chapter 37
Captain Yang
It feels like hell lying my way out of the barracks.
It’s been my home for as long as I can remember. A symbol of everything I stand for. Loyalty and protection, security and strength.
Now it’s just a question mark. I don’t know what it stands for. Maybe I never knew.
Once I leave the soldier, he opens the door, and I lead the horse out onto the cobbled area behind the barracks. Then things start to set in.
The enormity of what I am doing.
There is no going back.
No… if I turn around right now, return the horse, and raise the alarm that Yin has escaped, then maybe I could go back.
But what’s the point? There is every likelihood that General Garl is after me.
It’s just too late.
Plus, I’m not sure I could do that to her. I looked her in the eye, after all, and told her I wouldn’t betray her.
Some ragtag girl from the mountains. Someone I should hold no loyalty for. A woman who, self-admittedly, stands for everything I don’t. She questions the legitimacy of the Royal Family, the sanctity of the Kingdom. She holds nothing but suspicion for authority, and is arrogant and forceful enough to forge her own path.
.…
Yet, now she is the only thing I have left.
I chose to flee with her… and I’m going to have to live with that.
My life is now different, and I can’t stand here and mourn the loss of what I once knew.
I have to forge ahead.
So I raise my chin, take my helmet off, secure it under my arm, and I lead the horse forward.
As I do, I wonder where she has gotten to.
When I saw that the door at the back of the stables was locked and bolted, I pulsed with fear.
Then… I remembered who I was dealing with. Yin. She might be a woman, and around these parts, we might not expect much from women, but she is categorically one of the strongest people I have ever met.
“She has found a way out,” I whisper to myself under my breath.
But as I continue to lead the horse through the narrow side streets that link up to one of the main roads of the city, I start to doubt.
I twist my head around, checking for her everywhere, stopping just short of calling her name.
Where is she?
. . . She hasn’t, run-off on her own, has she?
I was sure I got through to her. I was sure I made her trust me.
But as I search for her, I start to doubt.
Maybe it makes sense. I was the one who brought her to the barracks, the one who turned a blind eye as General Garl threatened her. I tried to manipulate her in the past, forcing her to trust me so she would stop being rebellious.
But now I can’t deny how sick it makes me feel.
We reach the main road, and my stomach feels as though it’s in freefall.
Again I twist my head from side to side, but I can’t see her anywhere.
The conclusion that she really has run off without me seems undeniable now.
Just as my heart sinks lower than it ever has before, I notice a woman in a thick coat walk up from the side.
I barely glance her way, then I realize she is following me along, albeit at a distance.
Just as she walks under a lit lantern, she lifts her head slightly and looks right at me.
Despite the distance, I recognize her.
Of course I do. I could probably recognize Yin at 1000 paces. It’s not her appearance anymore, it’s… something more than that. A connection I can’t really describe, and one I don’t have time to anyway.
Nodding at her, I angle my head, trying to communicate nonverbally for her to follow.
I don’t particularly want to ride through the city with a cloaked woman as a passenger. I want to give us as much of a lead as possible before General Garl figures out we escaped.
She seems to understand, and she drops back.
I turn my head around, and lead the horse through the main street, trusting she’s still following.
Then, when I reach one of the less populated roads, I climb atop the horse and start to ride. But slowly. While Yin is incredibly fast, she is not that fast.
I reach the great gates of the city, and as I see them looming up before me with their enormous carved poles with dragons emblazoned on them, I almost feel like shedding a tear.
This is it.
Possibly the last time I will ever see them.
Turning around on my horse and craning my neck, I stare up at the Palace atop the hill.
It’s the last time I’ll see that too.
The greatest wonder in all the lands. With its golden pillars and its obsidian steps, it is a testament to the power and wealth of the Kingdom.
Power and wealth I am turning my back on.
Literally.
Without pause, I force myself to turn forward, and I tell myself I will never look back.
The guards at the city gates don’t even question as I make my way through. Why would they? I am a captain in the Royal Army and a close friend of the Princess. To them, I am one of the most loyal and trustworthy men they know.
They are completely wrong.
I don’t even bother thanking them as they open one of the much smaller side gates and let me through.
I do, however, turn and engage them in conversation, hoping to give Yin time to escape.
If she were any other woman, or indeed, a man, I’d be frightened right now. Terrified that she might not be able to make it.
The gates of the Kingdom are meant to be some of the most protected in all the lands. Tall and with watchtowers on top, they are always guarded and well lit. They protect not only against marauding barbarians, but against thieves wishing to find their way into the city at night.
Yin is no thief. Well, not usually – I’m sure she hardly paid for that jacket.
What she is, however, is the last known pupil of one of the greatest warriors in the Kingdom. Castorious Barr. Though I am fearful for her, that does not diminish the fact I know she’ll make it through. Even if she has to blast her way through the meter thick front gate, she will do it.
There is no doubting the fire that burns within her.
After all, she did the impossible and managed to conjure up magic in a room that should have made it impossible.
The enormity of that fact still hasn’t hit me, for I haven’t had the time to truly assess it.
The number of enchantments hewn into the rock of that cell should make it impossible for anyone to even call up a spark of flame, let alone enough fire to melt a metal lock.
Who is she?
Really?
Why would Castor train her? I heard him mumble something to General Garl that Yin was left with him as a child, and he had nothing more than a moral obligation to look after her. He did not seek her out, and neither did her parents grow fed up with her power and beg him to take her off their hands.
If you believe Castor, he trained her because it was kinder than kicking her out on her own.
Now, I don’t believe that. In fact, I doubt I ever believed it.
Having seen the sheer ferocity with which he was willing to protect her, I know it’s something more than that.
Something big.
Though Castor is undoubtedly an incredible warrior and could teach any soldier how to plumb the depths of their power, he couldn’t make them as powerful as Yin.
She woke up from my sleeping spell, she managed to hold her own against two illusionists, and she can conjure magic in an enchanted cell.
Castor could not have taught her any of those things. He could have refined her ability, yes, but he couldn’t have given it to her.
.…
These are some of the questions that have been assailing me for the past few weeks, questions I thought I would never get the answer to. But now, I just might. Because, if she trusts me enough to flee with me, perhaps she trusts me enough to tell me
the truth.
That possibility gives me a thrill. An undeniable sense of excitement. I might just be trading the only life I knew, but the one that awaits me may be far more exciting than any I have imagined before.
I keep an ear out as I chat to the soldiers, and force my senses to become as acute as possible.
I try to sense magic and to figure out if anybody is practicing it nearby.
Sure enough, just at the edges of my awareness, I feel crackles and sparks.
Yin.
She is close by, and the more I chat to the soldiers about inane things like the upcoming lantern festival, the closer that spark comes.
I don’t know how she does it, but at one moment she is on one side of the gate, and in the next, she is on the opposite side.
She gets through.
Just a darting shadow and practically silent scrabbling feet.
Giving her a chance to put some distance between her and the soldiers, I say my goodbyes, turnaround, and urge the horse forward.
The night is a dark one. Overcast, there are no stars in the sky and no moon to throw its silvery light over the land.
Though the gate is particularly well lit, the further I get away from it, the more my eyes have to adjust.
There is a long dirt path that leads up to the city walls, parts of it cobbled, parts of it in need of repair.
A short distance from the city gates is a bridge over a running creek, and then much farther along, a larger wooden bridge over the river itself.
Well right now, when I know that I’m far enough away from the gate that nobody can see me, I pull right off the road and into a thicket of bushes.
“Are you… here?” I ask, speaking through clenched teeth.
At first, all I hear in reply is the soft hoot of an owl sitting in a tree nearby.
Then, the slight sound of footfall.
I can’t stop a shiver racing down my back. It could be a spy, a soldier, a citizen, or it could be Yin.
The prospect that it’s her still warrants a shiver. Not a fearful one, just an excited one.
I see her walk forward, my eyes having to squint to adjust to the dark.
Shadow plays across her face, but I can easily recognize the shape of it, the tapering chin, her wild hair, and her strong form.
“We can’t afford to wait around this close to the city; we need to get out of here,” I say quickly.
She nods.
Then she hesitates.
“You’re not regretting this, are you?” I ask quickly, stumbling over my words.
“I suppose… I’ll never see Castor again,” she says, sadly.
I let my hands clutch tighter to the reins, then I nod. Almost immediately, however, I shake my head. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know. He’s… a determined man. If he wants to see you again, he will. And trust me, he’ll want to see you again.”
“He abandoned me,” she says in a far-off voice.
“No, he didn’t. Castor did everything he could to keep you safe.”
I watch her look up, and though I can’t see her exact expression, I know what she is feeling.
Confusion, and yet hope.
“What do you mean?” she tries in a light voice.
“I mean, trust me, and trust him,” I say as I reach a hand out to her.
My stomach tingles, my hands feeling cold and hot, and my back racing with nerves.
She considers my hand, then reaches up, grabs it, and without waiting for me to pull her up, uses me as an anchor as she jumps onto the horse.
I’m used to women needing help. I’m used to them being polite.
I’m used to everything Yin isn’t.
Yet, I can’t stop smiling as I grab hold of the reins, trust that she is balanced, and maneuver the horse out of the thicket.
Then we face the night.
It’s so thick, but there’s just enough ambient light that the horse can chart a path.
We push off into the dark.
Silently.
The both of us no doubt lost in thought. For there is a lot to think about.
This time yesterday I was lost in my duty as a guardian of the Savior. The most sacred duty in all of the ages.
Now I’m fleeing with the woman I barely know, shirking that responsibility, never to accept it again. Even if I left Yin behind and returned to the Palace, there would be no way the Princess would accept me again.
.…
I try to feel disappointed at that. I try to feel ashamed at what I’m doing, but the sensation is shallow. And sitting underneath is… excitement.
Excitement that I’m doing something that feels right. And more than that, surprised that I’m doing something that feels.
For so many years I purged myself of emotion and did what I was told.
Now I am relying on that emotion to decide what I want to do next.
“We will head to the coastal village, I have to find out what Garl did,” I say.
Yin is seated behind me, one hand hooked on my arm for balance, the other resting on the flank of the horse. “All right,” she says. “But what… do we do when we find the evidence you’re after?”
“I… don’t know. I just have to find out first.”
I trail off. Then, once again, all those millions of thoughts return to my mind. Some of them about the Princess and the Savior, but most of them about Yin. I’m dying to ask her what her secret is, but I can sense that it’s too soon.
She is clearly confused about leaving Castor behind, and if I push too much, I know what she will do. Snap at me. We might be the only friends each other have, but I know that’s not going to stop Yin from standing her ground when she has to.
So instead, I let us dwindle into silence. Just the pounding sound of the horse’s hooves as she races across a grass field. Just the clink of my armor as it moves around me. Just our breath as it drifts off into the cold night.
The further we get away from the city, the more the cloud above thins, until the eerie silver glow of the moon is visible from above.
I see the lay of the land before us. The fields undulating and leading up to the mountains. If I turn, I can see the glitter of the city so far away now.
This… is it.
For a man who has always lived his life by a particular set of rules and to a particular routine, I’m being plunged into the dark.
There will be no more routine, no more rules. I won’t wake up early in the morning to train in the square, then wash and have breakfast, and attend to my duties as a captain.
There will be no more meetings with Garl as we discuss strategy and security. There will be no dinners at the Palace with the Princess smiling over at me.
There will only be running. Living off the land, reacting to what comes next.
A mix of apprehension and invigoration swells together in my stomach.
As it does, I swear the horse starts to go faster. With its pounding speed, I come closer and closer to a new destiny.
One I am to decide for myself.