“You’ve already saved the crown prince,” Wu Du murmured in his ear. “I’m off now to find someone else entirely. But even so—thank you.” Wu Du swung up astride the horse once again. “Let’s go! Shan-er will be immensely grateful to you too.”
Skychaser returned to the open road, doubling his speed as he raced toward Tong Pass beneath the starry canopy of the sky.
Duan Ling rode along Qin Ridge’s mountain path. The air was muggy, and he was choked with agitation. He stopped and tethered his horse to a tree, then snuck quietly over to the spot where Fei Hongde had been ambushed. Across from the stream were the dense woods hiding the treasure cave. Almost twenty soldiers stood along the tree line, while still more were building a fire and boiling water on the opposite bank.
Where was Helian Bo? Duan Ling contemplated his next move as he scanned the area. If he were his friend, what would he do? Helian Bo knew Duan Ling had come upon danger here. Given his temperament, he would likely lurk nearby observing the enemy, waiting for the right moment to investigate. Nighttime was always best for an ambush—so when the night watch began to flag with fatigue, Helian Bo would surely make his move.
Rather than wait for him to kill the guards and storm the cave, Duan Ling would send him a signal. Having made his decision, he set fire to a pile of withered leaves by the river.
The riverbanks were littered with fallen autumn leaves, and the flame grew as it devoured them. The hungry fire spread rapidly, eating its way up the tree trunks after it consumed the leaves, then climbing upward to the foliage, setting the nearby trees alight. The flickering fire, brilliant and lively, brightened the area as if were a second sun.
“Fire!” cried the soldiers guarding the cave entrance.
They snatched up their waterskins and filled them at the river to douse the flames. While they were thus occupied, Duan Ling retreated on silent feet to the top of the hill, upwind. The breeze blew thick, roiling clouds of smoke toward the dense forest, and in no time, the guards were smoked out.
An arrow screamed down from on high and punched through a soldier putting out the fire.
“Ambush!” someone cried.
Duan Ling whipped his head around and looked along the trajectory of the arrow. He swiftly took his own bow from his back and returned the shot.
His arrow seemed to come out of nowhere, streaking into the far woods and nailing itself to a tree with a thunk. At the sound, Helian Bo signaled his men to alertness. Through the dark, they saw a shadowy figure on horseback racing toward the stream, firing arrows into the legs of the soldiers rushing to extinguish the fire. The figure wheeled his horse around and charged back up the hill.
Duan Ling’s heart was pounding. He’d taken a gamble—and the outcome proved he’d won his bet. The only other person who knew the exact location of the cave was Helian Bo; just as Duan Ling had wagered, he was lurking in the area.
As wind fanned the flames higher, one of Bian Lingbai’s men charged toward him with a roar. Duan Ling yelled out in Tangut, “It’s me—!”
Both sides were caught off guard, not anticipating an ambush. A volley of arrows rained down, whistling past Duan Ling’s ears as he galloped up the hill. A fateful shot struck his horse, sending it buckling to the ground. Seeing Duan Ling about to tumble down the slope with his mount, Helian Bo spurred his own horse over. One hand firmly gripping the reins, he leapt from his horse and swung, skidding to a stop and catching Duan Ling’s wrist to haul him into his arms.
“Go! We can’t stay here!” Duan Ling shouted.
Helian Bo blew a loud whistle, then stepped back into the stirrups, pulling Duan Ling up with him. At his signal, the Tanguts retreated into the deep forest, disappearing from sight and leaving the ground strewn with Bian Lingbai’s injured soldiers. The Tangut warhorses were all powerful steeds that had no trouble traversing forests. The instant they entered the trees, they were as good as gone. Duan Ling was drenched in cold sweat from the close call with his horse, but thankfully the peril had already passed.
“You! Almost! Scared me to death!” Helian Bo cried, directing his ire at the young man sitting behind him.
Duan Ling burst out laughing, and Helian Bo shot him a furious glare, raising his fist in a threatening gesture. Duan Ling patted his shoulder. “Gather your men.”
As Helian Bo carried Duan Ling away from the treasure-cave hilltop, Duan Ling said, “Hey. Hey, Helian. You’re not really mad, are you?”
They cantered into the shallow gully near a riverbank, where traces of a campfire remained. The second Helian Bo dismounted, he dragged Duan Ling off after him. It was thanks to Duan Ling’s martial arts training that he didn’t faceplant into the dirt, but no sooner had he gained his footing than Helian Bo pounced. Duan Ling sidestepped his assault and retreated a step, then mustered his strength and tackled him.
The two had barely escaped lethal danger, but here they were: wrestling in the dirt. As the Tangut soldiers rode into the gully one by one, they were stunned at the sight. Their surprise didn’t last long—fired up by the sparring match, they dismounted and gathered in a loose circle, hooting and hollering as they watched their prince and the Han youth use fists to resolve their personal grudges.
Duan Ling butted his head against Helian Bo’s chest, forcing him to take a staggering step back. He lifted his foot to avoid Duan Ling’s sweeping kick, but Duan Ling was faster and swiftly leapt onto him. In one fluid motion, he swung himself around to straddle Helian Bo’s shoulders and twisted his torso, throwing Helian Bo off-balance. When it came to wrestling, Helian Bo had been Duan Ling’s first teacher. But Duan Ling had also learned the art of feinting from Li Jianhong, which allowed him to eventually become a solid match for Helian Bo back in Shangjing. After their year of separation, however, compounded by Duan Ling’s lack of practice in the south, the match ended with Helian Bo on top, slamming Duan Ling to the ground and pinning him there.
Duan Ling yelped when his head knocked against a rounded pebble on the riverbank. Startled, Helian Bo pulled him up to check his forehead for injuries and spotted a rapidly swelling bump.
Duan Ling waved a hand, signaling that he was fine. The spectating Tanguts hadn’t expected this Han youth to hold his own in a wrestling match with Helian Bo. As soon as the fight concluded, they broke into excited chatter and approached Duan Ling to give him a few hearty slaps on the shoulder. It was a worthy loss.
Helian Bo, on the other hand, was mortified. He’d only wanted to vent his frustration, but he’d injured Duan Ling. Duan Ling, exasperated, grumbled at him: “Got something to eat? I haven’t had dinner yet; I’m starving.”