Shuli Go Stories Vol. 5: The Two Keepers

Part 17

Kalsang gathered his men after the sun had risen and trotted his horse at the front of their column, riding tall and proud upon a chorus of cheers. It was the end of another successful raid: their bags filled with food and coin, their ropes tied around the hands and necks of prisoners who would soon join them or die. Some had already turned, revelling in more wealth than they'd ever held in their lives. A small taste was all it took sometimes, a taste of a life not played by anyone else's rules. A life of true freedom. Kalsang liked to savor that look in his new recruits, that taste of freedom from the tyranny of a life lived for someone else's benefit. Kalsang was a liberator: from peasantry, from drudgery, from Imperial servitude to a dictator that lived rich upon the work of a people she would never meet. He relished those faces, when it dawned on them what life upon horseback could be like: free and bold, there for the taking. Kalsang was happy that day.

It was only three miles to their camp. They passed a single sentry – a woman on a hill a hundred yards off the main road who waved at them and whose smile could almost be seen from the distance. Kalsang had so many people under his leadership he couldn't even think of her name. He returned the wave and saw the joy in her body at the sight of even more wealth, even more manpower and supplies. The lone guard pulled out her sentry flags and waved their arrival to no one. Kalsang chuckled at her exuberance. An exuberance that felt fitting that day.

Before winter they would be strong enough to strike the Empire directly. There was the outpost on the Zhosian border, or the town with the local supply depot. Grain enough for the winter and more horses, more weapons. More people he could shepherd. Kalsang the shepherd. It was how his wife described him in their letters. Her, safe in her tiny home village a hundred and fifty miles to the southeast, on the very edge of Imperial territory. Their son, only seven but already deep into the Tiendu Shu texts Kalsang had taught him to read. Their letters in Zhosian text no censor in that part of the Empire could read. Kalsang the shepherd, taking in the poor, the weary and downtrodden, and feeding them. Giving them strength once again. He glanced back at his flock as they approached; happy and hungry and ready for more, a hundred and twenty strong all on horseback, all ready to ride with him to death. Kalsang vibrated with excitement that day.

When he and his troupe reached the gash in the ground that served as his base, his excitement was diminished slightly by the sight of two of his least favorite underlings being there to meet him. The annoying herder, Shi, and Tsan, the younger boy who he didn't entirely trust yet. Neither of them were supposed to be there, and Tsan had some strange wrap on his hand. But Kalsang didn't think anything of it. He was loaded with the overjoy of a bright, hopeful future that day.

"I was tired of sitting out there with the horses," Shi explained when he questioned her. "I sent them out there to stay with them and the boy and I here got to spend the night here, under some proper fucking cover." Tsan said nothing.

Kalsang wanted to discipline her for disobeying orders, but he decided to let it slide. That day. Because that day Kalsang felt invincible, like a God surrounded by true believers. Kalsang was immortal that day.

Kalsang was going to die that day.

They had been in camp only fifteen minutes or so when the smoke started rising from the north. A dark, viscous smoke, from tar or oil. Smoke from a fire that was meant to burn for a long time. Kalsang knew that type of fire – it was the fire made for archers to rain a particularly fiery form of death on their victims. Kalsang's eyes narrowed as he sent his fastest rider to get word.

The mood in the camp grew tense, but there was no panic. He'd warned them this may come sooner rather than later. He had no doubt they could handle it. When the word came back that yes, there was a small army group – maybe two hundred – marching towards them, he turned to his soldiers and saw the fear in their eyes. He remained invincible, and he told them so.

"This is it, men and women. This is the day we confirm that our birthright is not given to us by some Emperor on a chain, but gifted to us by the great Tiendu. We know that all human beings are made equal, and we will show them that they cannot beat us back into the ground once that great truth has been made clear to us!"

They roared to life at his words, and he reformed the column of men, women, horses and weapons, their chant tenfold stronger than it had been that morning. He donned the steel war helmet he'd taken from a retired officer, and they set out at a sprint back the way they'd come. He left thirty or so men behind to guard the new prisoners and to act as reinforcement if needed. They gathered in the center of the camp, each one next to their horse, ready to ride on a moment's notice. Kalsang hoped they would not be needed. He knew they wouldn't be. Because he would take this first wave and crush the Imperials before they could do any harm. He would kill all who fought and he would spare those who surrendered. He would teach them forgiveness, and he would welcome them in, more flock to tend, and more forces to build his great revolution of freedom.

He led their race back to the sentry post they'd passed just hours earlier, but the woman was not there. The smoke was not far away, only a half mile ahead, and the air had become thick with it, obscuring the force that was to meet them. The first uncertainty crept into Kalsang's mind, where it was quickly put down under the weight of his confidence, but not before planting a seed of fear somewhere deep inside him. He urged his force on harder, the hill slowly passing by his periphery as he pushed on. Just as the smoke started to strike his nose, a rock struck his helmet.

It took him a moment – as he hauled his horse back to a stop and cried for his men to do the same – to determine where the rock had come from. There was nothing else on the horizon except the smoke and the hill. He stared at it and saw her. The Shuli Go. Her long braid flapping in a light wind, the body of his dead sentry in her other hand, recently murdered.

He looked to the encroaching army, shrouded in smoke, then back at the lone Shuli Go, taunting him from on high. It was a trap. He would send his cavalry to strike down the woman and she would signal for the army to flank them – the only chance an army without an equally strong cavalry would have against him and his riders. He called his most trusted advisor – a man named Dai who had been with him since the beginning, since he'd first realized the complete moral corruption of the Central Empire – and instructed him.

"Take the men and attack the army the way we've trained. A wide attack, two horses deep. Straight into their ranks. They will break."

"Kalsang," he'd instructed his followers to call him by name, there would be no honorific titles in his future country. "You should be leading us. The soldiers will be looking to you."

"They will do fine," he reassured Dai and gave a smile of confirmation. He was not worried about his riders. They would crush anything they came across, just as he'd taught them. And he owed this woman. He knew she would be trouble the moment he rode up to her in the clearing. Now there she was helping lead an attack on his very way of life. He had to take care of her personally. "I will join you after both our victories are complete," he nodded and clapped Dai on the shoulder. "Go. Now."

Dai's face wasn't convinced, but he set off nonetheless. Kalsang moved his horse off the path and his army headed north to confront the Imperials. Their thundering hooves and a battle cry of encouragement brought a smile to his face. His faith, at least, remained invincible. All that he required was for his body to be too.

As his riders disappeared towards the smoke, he led his horse in a leisurely walk towards the hill and the Shuli Go atop it. She descended too, and he began the chant of the Keeper's Strength, drawing on the great Tiendu to poison the seed he felt taking root deep in his soul.