Editing Mendicant General



The cavalry troopers with Jing Li chuckled, even though it was their companion who was rolling on the ground. The downed man was the third of their group to attempt the little ford, they had hoped to seek shelter in the run down Daoist temple behind the creek. 

That had been the plan, anyway. The horses had stomped through the snow as the patrol sought and dealt with bandits. The men were some of the best riders in Jing Li's army; that's why they had gotten new mounts first. The snow made hard riding tricky and the cold made extra work for the troopers. However, Jing Li wanted these men ready by spring. 

As they had approached the old temple their expectations had been dashed. Not only was the building now occupied, though only in slightly better repair, but there had been a lone rider astride a gangly steppe pony who blocked their way. They could have swarmed the creek and encircled the rider, the water was very low and the rickety bridge more for dryness than safety. Yet the challenge had been issued. The rider seemed to be tasked with defending the temple. A dozen or more ragged supplicants seemed to have stopped their work on the building and moved to watch the defense of what seemed to be their home. Several carried babies or held the hands of children. None seemed well dressed or overly fed. 

Jing Li studied the rider and the mount. Both were slight though he knew steppe ponies held supreme endurance. Perhaps that was not truly the case with this one, though. Its ribs clearly showed and it seemed to have seen better years. Yet it had responded to the riders direction with heart, even though it huffed a bit now. 

The rider was small, but quick. Very quick. The armor had been peiced together, probably from war spoils. Very little matched. So far the contests had lasted but a single pass and the rider's style looked different than what most of the troopers were used to. Jing Li recognized the tight motions and inner circle control as a southern tradition yet he was unfamiliar with the style. 

Another trooper saluted and requested a turn. 

"Wait." Jing Li replied. He gently eased his horse forward and saluted as if to a worthy opponent, yet stayed off the bridge. "This land is controlled by the prefect of Hu." He said in a conversational tone. "By what right do you take up arms?"

"We have a writ of work to restore this temple." The rider replied, and motioned to the group. "I have a signed document from Prefect Chang giving my master responsibility for this area. It seems many groups of men would like to come here, savage our women, and destroy our work."

"I was not aware that Prefect Chang was such a religious sort." Jing Li replied. "May I see the document?"

"It was not an inexpensive piece of writing." The rider replied. "Am I to assume you are willing to talk before I unhorse you?"

"Yes. Your mount looks winded and you have bested three good men." Jing Li took off his helmet. "Perhaps you could bear a truce for a short while?"

"As long as you stay on your side of the bridge, we can have a truce." The rider likewise removed her overly large helmet and revealed a pretty, if tired, face. She motioned behind her and one of the men carrying an infant moved forward to help her dismount. 

Jing Li noted the exhaustion in both the rider and the horse. He also noted the interplay between the man who was not a servant and the warrior who was deferential. It seemed odd, but both of them moved forward to join the little camp Jing Li's men started to assemble. The soldiers broke out their food and Jing Li saw the flash in the woman's eyes, before she regained control.

The man who was not a servant shuffled the infant to his other side and produced a scroll from his sleeve. He saluted Jing Li and proffered the scroll respectfully.

Jing Li read the writ and grimaced. No doubt this group had put all their money in to bribe some scribe to write this up and present it to Chang when he was half drunk. It was proper though, and he could see that they were trying to fight the on-coming winter with sparse supplies and few tools. 

"Perhaps a trade can be arranged." Jing Li carefully rolled the scroll back up and respectfully returned it. "We need shelter for ourselves and our horses. We have food to share, if you have a need. Can we extend our truce to cover until this time tomorrow?"

The woman looked at the other man, who smiled and handed her the infant. The warrior grimaced and became a mother. "My youngest, Mei. He who is our master, and my husband, Yu." She bowed respectfully to the man. "He has taken a vow of silence until spring, to focus his thoughts on the way. I am the only other warrior in our band."

"It seems your training has been well done." Jing Li laughed. "Though I would say some of your victory comes from your strange style! Still, it is better to learn when the contests are less lethal. Otherwise one risks learning too late. Let me introduce you." He pointed to the men in turn and gave their names. Each man in turn saluted the warrior respectfully. Finally, he added, "I am called Boshi."

"My father-in-spirit named me Baoyu when I set foot on the path of Xia." As she looked down at her worn and dented armor her shoulders fell. "Normally his jests were not so cruel."

As the other mendicants slowly joined them, Baoyu introduced each in turn. One, an older man, pulled her aside and whispered to her as he watched Jing Li walk his horse to what used to be the barn. Baoyu looked up sharply and paled, and gave the man a gesture of silence. 

The mendicants and the troopers combined all their food options and Lu Feng, an older trooper, displayed his rare talent of making tasty food out of war rations and the few dried vegetables the Daoists had brought. The soldiers split up into watches and rotated in for the meal while the others dove in. Boshi walked around and chatted with the outer guards as they ate. After a while he wandered away, into the night. The men know this was his habit, quiet and thought.

Lu Feng ate last, and Baoyu joined him. Others started to clean their bowls and the people of the temple rested with their first full meal of the week. 

"That was a very good meal, sir." Baoyu said, avoiding his gaze.

"My father was a trooper, too, young miss. He taught me to cook as well as any man could, given few options." He pointed at the smiles all around. "He was right, it was a useful skill. More useful than some."

"It is said that some nobles choose not to eat with the common people." She said carefully, lowering her voice. 

Lu Feng glared at her, and she turned red. He replied. "Some may not. Some leaders condition themselves to go without as a matter of self-discipline."

"I am sorry." She bowed. "I misunderstood."

Lu Feng focused on his bowl. "Yes, you did. Boshi once led an...a larger group. Their rations were short, he did not eat for days. I was there, young miss. I have shared seasoned fish with him and I have shared his empty bowl."

"Were you going to say that he led an army?" Her voice faltered. "I am told that the new prefect is named Boshi, as well. He is a renowned warrior."

Lu Feng looked away for a long time. "Some things are not for a cook to say, young miss. You fight well. He fights better. You claim your father-in-spirit joked cruelly when he named you. Look around. Your people are happily fed and the troopers are making friends. Your bravery bought their lives. If a man who has single-handedly defeated hundreds of armed soldiers wanted you all dead, there is nothing you could have done about it."

"Thank you, Lu Feng. My debt to you is great." Baoyu saluted him and left to speak to her husband.

The fires were banked and the horses were fed. Boshi returned and received Lu Feng's nod. It was an affirmation that everyone else had eaten. 

When Baoyu heard Boshi's voice, she and her husband went to him. She coughed gently and scuffed her feet to get the attention of the others. Yu held their infant while twin boys clung to his legs. As the mendicant's gathered around, Baoyu first knelt, and then prostrated herself in front of Boshi. 

"Forgive me, my Lord. I did not know who your men were or I would not have borne arms against you." She took a deep breathe and held up her sheathed sword. "Please, I know I deserve death. Do not soil your own blade, use mine. But please, none of the others were a part of this. I beg you to spare them."

Her sword hand remained steady as Jing Li slowly drew the blade.

"Well made. And well maintained." He said, looking at the weapon. "Have you considered that an officer's wage could feed several people and perhaps have enough extra for tools and materials?"

"No sir." She replied quietly. "I am untrained in the arts of mass combat. My work here has been mostly against bandits; no more than two or three at a time."

"Something to remedy." He replied as he gently sheathed the sword. "We ride in the morning. Join us. Bring a few of your people who can return here with food and tools to build a proper shelter before everyone freezes to death."

"Thank you, my Lord." She returned to her knees and bowed. "For time to say good bye to my family. I ride with you in the morning."