Tales of the Three Kingdoms: Silver Falcon Falls

Upon the rise, I stood within a cloud of dust as the hoofbeats faded, leaving me in silence with a hundred cavalrymen at my back who had just lost their chance at distinguishing themselves and rising in the ranks because their fledgling officer – me – couldn't hold his tongue. I sat rigid in my saddle to try to keep my shoulders from slumping. The administrators scribbled perhaps a small note about me being left behind, then I could almost feel the gaze of history shifting away from me, toward the men down on the field who actually mattered. I began to shift focus as well.

...Until the wind picked up, whipping my cavalry with dust and debris. A scrap of paper flew out of it to slap me in the face. With a growl, I pulled it off of me and made to cast it back into the wind, when I noticed there was writing on it. I flattened it against my saddle horn.

***WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!***

TITLE: DEFEND THIS DIRT!

DESCRIPTION: You've been ordered to defend a patch of dirt just so that you'd have something to do. It's very unlikely anyone will want this dirt. This dirt is nowhere near the fighting. But by Heaven you will defend that dirt like your life depends on it! It was an order; so in a way your life does depend on it.

I growled and crumpled the inane message, glaring over at the pack of ministers. If this were some sort of joke, even they didn't find it very funny, as they all seemed to be working diligently. What's more, is for one of them to have stuck it to my face from all the way over there, they would have had to use a fairly specific Mandate. I could probably figure out who did it and punish them accordingly. But what good would it do me? I couldn't just have everyone who didn't respect me flogged; I had neither the authority nor the inclination. I decided my best hope for the future was to simply focus on the battle at hand and hope I didn't earn any more 'achievements.'

As we watched the glorious charge below, Uncle's horse separated from the pack, his Iron Mandate being the strongest among his men. His storm-gray threw its head back and screamed as its hooves ate up ground faster than the beast thought possible.

Commandant, too, drew ahead of his men, but only by a nose. Whether he exhibited more restraint than his sworn brother, was less gifted in gripping horseshoes on the fly, or was focusing his Mandate for something else, I couldn't tell.

What I could see was that up ahead the three rebel generals had fully broken free of the green and gold encirclement, and now they sped across the plain alone. One moment, their horses rode the same cloud of dust, and the next, two of them had veered off in opposite directions.

Uncle bent to one side then, following the General of Flesh as my father had ordered. Commandant did the same, leaning the other direction toward the General of Earth.

"Your father is right not to put all of his gift into sheer speed." With the bulk of the army having moved away, one of my father's administrators, Swaying Willow I believe his name was, had stepped up beside me on the berm. "While your Uncle is also right to put all of his gift into his horseshoes! Hoho!"

Swaying Willow smiled kindly. Like the other administrators, he was no military officer; he wore stately robes and a scholar's hat rather than armor and helm. Clearly he wasn't one of the ones recording the day's events, but he had likely heard everything between me, my father, and Uncle, just the same. He seemed to think he was helping by further explaining things to me, not realizing he was only making me look more like a boy in need of schooling. The only reason I didn't order him dragged back to the others and out of my way was because he seemed to be right about the impending duel of mandates below.

A massive rock shaped like a jagged tooth shot out from the earth just in front of my father's horse, and it was only then that I saw the subtle strategy in their selection of quarry, the subtle differences in the two Silver Star Mandates.

Thousands of riders had been born to the Silver Falcon Plains or had found their way there after being born beneath the Silver Star in the distant reaches of the Land Under Heaven. Many of them, whose Mandates had manifested in the form of wielding metal in various ways with nothing but a gesture, had found their way to my father, one way or another. And if they were worthy, they became one of his elites in the Screaming Cavalry. But to call my father's Mandate common, because others also had something similar, was like calling the ability to wield a blade common; true but reductive.

When I saw my father's horse buck to one side as if pushed by a hand from Heaven, it was like finally seeing a master swordsman unveil his true skill… or like seeing a priest finally get a response from the gods. One moment it seemed inevitable that his horse should crash into the earthen spar summoned by the fleeing rebel, and the next, my father and his horse were simply no longer on a collision course, as easily as that. Such was his power that he had moved a whole horse to the side as if it were a paper boat on a pond. What's more was that the control of the movement was so precise, so complete, the horse didn't even miss a stride. It didn't lose a single iota of speed.

The General of Earth peered behind himself, an arrogant smile shifting to a snarl. Twice more he threw up crags of earth behind him, shooting up closer and closer to my father, and from different angles. But each time my father barely had to gesture to sidestep his horse at full gallop. In the end, the rebel leader let go of his own reins and put his full body into a motion that created a garden maze of spikes all at once, all around my father and his men.

My father's horse danced like a spirit as he put his control over the Silver Star element on full display. Many of his men faltered in the suddenly manifest columns of earth and stone, but many more used their own versions of their Silver Mandates to produce a similar effect to my father.

Some blasted or cut through, lending power to armor or blades with their Mandates. Others put inhuman force into horseshoes to have their mounts leap or sidestep in a motion far beyond what the beasts themselves were capable. One even shot every scale from his breastplate through the spar in front of him dissolving the stone in a hail or iron shards and another held a levitating metal wedge out in front of his horse, made from scraps magically torn from his beast's barding.

But none wielded their gift as masterfully, as clinically as my father. With the power of his Silver Star, the Commandant was cold perfection on the field.

"Between Yellow and Silver," Swaying Willow mused, as if to himself, "Neither has the advantage. So the stronger man, the one with more control over his element wins."

I glanced sideways at the older man. He really thought his advice was helping. I shrugged and decided to put my own knowledge on display rather than stamp his out. "And now all that's left to him is to try to outrun the Screaming Cavalry."

The General of Earth's own zeal in throwing up spars of rock had him almost topple from his horse. Realizing his Mandate could not overcome that of my father, the rebel leader gave up on trying, and leaned forward in his saddle.

"A straight race against the finest horses in the Land Under Heaven?" Swaying Willow snorted. "I wish him luck!"

I glanced at Swaying Willow and had to smile at that. Swaying Willow smiled back.

"Ah! Now see your uncle. Same Mandate, but…"

He let it hang and I finished for him. "...they are as different as two swordsmen wielding the same blade."

Swaying Willow nodded.

Spinning soldiers of dust and clay appeared in ranks before Uncle's pursuing cavalry. Uncle simply rode all the harder, lowering his lance. Just before the point impacted the vaguely human shape of earth, it bucked forward in the veteran's hand as if it were a battering ram with ten men behind it.

"They chose their targets based on the idiosyncrasies of their Mandates, and the differences in those of their opponents."

Sure enough, the so-called General of Flesh was able to summon more soldiers faster, packing them like true soldiers standing in rank and file. Uncle could never have dodged all of them the way my father had picked his way between the more solid spires of rock. With Uncle's version of the most common Mandate from the Silver Star, he didn't have to.

Uncle's lance shot through row upon row of hastily constructed earthen soldiers, followed by the rest of his armored horse, until the General of Flesh realized it was folly. He, too, leaned forward in the saddle to flee in earnest.

The third rebel general, however, the self-styled General of Heaven and the ultimate leader of the entire uprising, now sped on alone, only the Crimson Tiger clan in pursuit. Maybe it was Uncle's earlier goading. Maybe it was the fact that my father still took Uncle's side, even when I was the one who was right. Maybe it was because I thought my men deserved a chance to claim a head, even more so than I did. Whatever the reason, despite my father's order, I could no longer restrain myself,

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Prepare to charge!" I shouted to my men, trying to keep the excitement from my voice. There were only a few hundred horsemen behind me, and they could probably all hear me, but the signal flags snapped out my order anyway. The hundreds of Silver Star Mandates gripped me now.

Swaying Willow hadn't moved out of the way. He gave me a look that said, "Are you sure?"

I wavered. Could I catch the third general at such a distance, and with no gift to lend speed to my horse? Was it worth defying my father's order for such a slim chance? Was it even defiance, if he might do the same in my position, seizing upon the opportunities that presented themselves?

I sat back in my saddle. Without some unforeseen development, I had no valid reason to defy my father's order, and Swaying Willow seemed to agree with my assessment.

As the Tiger Clan's slower but more solid warhorses managed to get in line with the General of Heaven for just long enough to turn him back across the plains, I had my excuse, but still I teetered on the edge of a decision. If I did nothing, the Tiger would have the General of Heaven. Or worse, the leader of the rebellion would get away, getting lost in the many mountain trails to the north. The war would drag on as he rallied new allies and lured peasants from their fields. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands more would die.

But if we caught all three rebel generals… If I caught the General of Heaven…

"Oh, boy," said Swaying Willow, hustling off to one side, out of the way of the formation.

He could probably tell that for me, with my ambition, it was never even a choice.

"Fly!" I shouted and spurred my horse.

My horse was the first to launch itself down the embankment, careening headlong toward the plains before they leveled out. That was as far as I would lead. When we hit the plains proper, the men at my back, drawing upon the powerful gifts bestowed upon them by the Silver Star, surged forward like streaks of screaming lightning. In moments I was lost in a sea of horses shouldering past my own.

"Come on, Windshear," I whispered to my horse. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but I know you're faster than them."

I fell further behind the formation I was meant to be leading. I wasn't just hidden behind my own horsemen now, there was a noticeable gap.

I gritted my teeth, leaning lower in the saddle.

"Mandate or not. We can beat them. We will beat them."

The horse I had begun training as a foal must have sensed my desire, because, despite the power augmenting the others, my dapple-gray and I regained the pack, hanging just at the back until…

The white and silver of my own clan melted away around me and suddenly I was being jostled by big, plodding blood bays, chestnuts and sorrels. I tore past grasping red gauntlets and spears that bore tiger banners.

I smiled to myself. So many powerful Mandates and we were streaming past them all, based on will alone. I had been right. It was possible. Even the commonest sparrow can fly faster than the greatest of tigers.

Soon there was no one before me but the Tiger of Jiangdong himself, and I was so close I could smell the Mandate of his Red Star pouring off of him. His eyes were fixed dead ahead, and there was something in his posture, in his poise, in the aura radiating from him that spoke of battle fever, of bloodlust, of the wild hunt.

At a shout from one of his men, he turned back to regard me, and I could see the fire blazing in his eyes, an inhuman ferocity that made me want to match it. I smiled and leaned lower, burying my face in Windshear's mane as I dared to challenge the Tiger for his prize.

I barely noticed him snarl and then saw on his reins. Windshear shot past him in a blur. There was nothing before us now but…

Suddenly, as I looked forward, I wasn't sure what I was looking at.

I had expected to see the fleeing General of Heaven, the centerpiece of the rebellion on the verge of becoming my prize. But what I saw made no sense. One moment, the rebel leader had been riding away at full speed, and now he was coming toward me on a horse as gaunt as death.

As I watched, dumbfounded, shadows began to pool around him and spirals of black wind reached down from the sky to form an army where none had been before. No, it was a cavalry. No, it was a stampede of riderless horses made of dust and shadow, surging down from the sky, galloping toward me even before their hooves met the earth.

In the background I only vaguely registered the General of Heaven fixing me with an evil gaze and pointing his staff at me.

This was why my own cavalry had pulled up. This was why the Crimson Tiger clan had shouted to their leader. Only the Tiger himself had thought, for a moment, to match his strength against this, but in the end even he had chosen the better side of valor: discretion.

I hadn't overtaken them all on will alone. I had been the only one foolish enough, so focused on the pursuit that I had forged ahead, powerless and alone, into a power even the greatest warriors couldn't hope to match.

The horses of darkness thundered across the plains, making straight for me, spectral ranks stretching almost a full li wide. They jostled one another, split apart and reformed, their bodies spinning up in the sandstorm of their own dust trail and then reappearing even larger, bearing down on me with phantom eyes as hateful as the generals.

So overawed was I, that I would have ridden straight into them without slowing, had Windshear not panicked. My horse slid to a halt of its own volition and reared up. It was all I could do to press myself against my mount's neck and try to hang on until all four hooves were back on the ground again.

When the danger of falling off had passed, I flicked a glance over my shoulder to where a keening had risen up behind me, distinct from the sound of roiling wind and earthen hooves. In that split second glance behind, I saw a scene almost as strange as the stampede from the sky.

Noble Lion and his men stood staring atop their fortifications, spears and crossbows forgotten in their hands. Many of the Green Skirmishers were stumbling as they started to break and run. The Gray Wolves stood slack-jawed, frozen in place where once they had been fighting furiously.

But the rebels, the peasants who had risen up, with no horses or armor or lands to their names, wearing nothing more than rags, had now pulled yellow scarves up over their faces, leaving only slits for their eyes. They too seemed to have forgotten the fight, as they looked to the sky and held strangely painted rocks or shells or fossils up toward their General of Heaven, singing what might have been a prayer, but what felt like a funeral dirge to me.

We all watched, as, from the center of the yellow plains for all to see, the rebel general put his Mandate of Heaven on full display.

This… Now this was a man who could be called a Hero of the Times. This was the type of power bestowed by Heaven, that could convince millions of peasants that there was a man more worthy of following – no, more worthy of worshipping – than the Emperor himself.

Of course, it could be a trick, shadows and illusion. So I could simply let the phantom steeds wash over me, then resume the chase. Spectral hooves pounding the earth as they drew nearer told me this would be folly.

They could be nothing but dust and clay. All I would need to do is get Windshear back up to speed before impact and perhaps I'd punch right through, just as Uncle had. I began to shiver as the wind that presaged the sandstorm washed over me, and the wave of summoned stallions swelled, growing bigger than the soldiers of clay, bigger than the biggest warhorses, each one now becoming bigger than a stable as they picked up the dust from the yellow plains.

They could be solid as rock, and my only hope of survival was to pick my way through them as my father had done, or else turn and flee for my life. But the closer they got, the more solid the stampede became and now I saw that there was no way through, no way around, no way to survive this.

The sky grew dark above me and my teeth chattered in the sudden gloom. I looked back to where my men had retreated far out to the edge of the field. My forces were tangled among the Crimson Tiger clan. Every cavalryman I could see seemed to be struggling to get their own mount under control as the impossible, transcendent gift of the rebel leader filled the plains with horses the size of the heavens.

In a moment of cold clarity, I dismounted and drew my sword.

"This was my folly," I said to my horse. "Not yours. You don't need me weighing you down any longer."

As I cut Windshear's saddle strap and released the reins, she bolted right out of her heavy saddle and armor, flying across the plains as bare as the day she was born.

I turned back to face my doom as the colossal horses of shadow and earth bore down upon me.

In what would be my last moments, all I could think was how lucky this man must be, how auspicious his birth must have been to wield such power. I would never know why the heavens separated men like him from men like me, before even the moment of our first breath.

Through a last gap in the churning mass, I caught sight of him, that General of Heaven, halted in the center of the yellow plains. Perhaps it was his sneer that gave me such a sense of calm. No, not calm. Cold, vindictive rage. Perhaps it was his posturing, with his up-raised arms and his useless staff. His position among men, his power over them, his power over me, had been granted to him by Heaven, by the stars, by whatever cold uncaring mechanisms of fate ruled the laws of our land, while I fought and clawed and worked for every rank, every scrap of power that belonged to me.

Maybe that's why I decided to spend my last moments posturing before him, despite my helplessness. I lifted my sword, pointing at him through the churning hooves that were now as big as castles.

"You're a worm striking at the heel of a dragon," I whispered as if he could hear me.

His eyes fixed upon mine, and his arms lowered. There was hatred in his stare as the sandstorm became complete, obscuring him.

I turned my gaze upwards.

"Is this your justice White Star? That this man should live by his power and I should die by it?" I looked back down to the hooves that shook the earth beneath my feet. "If so, I refuse to submit."

I pulled my sword back into both my hands, taking a fighting stance.

"Black Star, bear witness. If there were any sense to this world, the ones worthy of your power would live to manifest it. Hear me and know you've wasted one who would be great."

The wind lifted, rustling the scales of my armor, making them dance like so many windchimes, or a fistful of coins cast into a breeze. I put my full weight behind my sword and stepped forward into the sandstorm of stallions that crashed over me.

An invisible hand ripped me from my feet, driving me into the ground with all the force of a ballista bolt at close range and held me there. I had a moment to hear my own scream before all was lost in a chaos of wind and sand and shadow and rock.