21 A Favor

After the Magoli soldiers finished their midday meal, a sense of purposeful urgency descended upon the camp. Misheel, with a calm authority, ordered fifty soldiers to begin escorting the stream of fleeing civilians towards Txoo Village. He understood the volatile blend of fear and desperation that simmered among the displaced; by dedicating his own seasoned soldiers to the task, he aimed to quell potential disputes and ensure their safe passage, preventing desperate acts born from differences.

The air thrummed with activity as soldiers began moving their gear, clearing the way to free up fifty horses – one for each soldier assigned to the escort to Txoo Village, as per Misheel's direct command.

"Khawn!" Naksh's voice sliced through the commotion. "We need your horse!"

Khawn, startled, spun around to face Naksh. "Why my horse?" he demanded, a note of immediate defensiveness in his tone.

Drystan, ever the pragmatist, chimed in, "Because we're short one, and yours is the most accessible."

Khawn glanced between Naksh and Drystan, a flicker of exasperation crossing his face. "But what am I going to ride on?"

Just then, Jeet appeared, leading a small, shaggy donkey by a leash. A wide, mischievous grin spread across his face. "I found you a ride!" he announced, a twinkle in his eye.

Khawn's eyes widened, a look of utter disbelief replacing his irritation. "Ah… a donkey!" The word escaped him, laced with mortification.

Jeet's grin only widened as he pressed the leash into Khawn's hand. "Yep… a donkey," he confirmed, barely containing his laughter.

Khawn glared at the men surrounding him, who now stood openly giggling. His face began to flush a furious red. "Why do I have to ride a donkey? Why can't you ride this donkey?" he grumbled, his voice thick with injustice.

Naksh gestured to their own towering forms. "Look at us, Khawn. Now look at you. We're far too big and tall for this little donkey."

Drystan's smile broadened, a hint of genuine amusement in his eyes. "Indeed. Of all of us, you are the most perfectly sized."

Timicin, already mounted and impatient, looked back at the group, his voice cutting through their mirth. "Hey! Come on, we are leaving now!"

Jeet clapped Khawn's left shoulder, his eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. "It's only for two days, mate. Besides, it'll be pitch black by the time we reach Ntsua-Ntu. No one will see you riding a donkey into the city." He let out a final chuckle and strode away, leaving Khawn fuming.

Khawn clutched the leash so tightly his knuckles whitened, muttering under his breath, "One of these days, the joke will be on you..." His bitter thoughts were abruptly cut short by a loud, protesting grunt.

He looked towards the donkey's back and saw a young woman dusting dirt from her hands, her movements graceful even in her exhaustion. Beside her, an older woman meticulously brushed grime from the younger woman's clothes.

Though the young woman's face was streaked with dirt, Khawn felt an undeniable certainty that beneath the grime, there lay a captivating beauty.

Qinru knew the combined weight of her grandmother and their three precious bags of personal belongings was a crushing burden, but she truly believed carrying them was their only hope of reaching Txoo Village safely and in time.

Helping her granddaughter brush off the clinging dirt, Grandmother Li's voice was thin with concern. "Qinru, my dear, you don't have to carry me on your back. I can walk, truly."

"Grandmother, they are leaving!" Qinru insisted, her voice tight with urgency. "If I don't carry you, we won't be able to catch up. I can still manage, and we don't even know the way to Txoo Village." A sudden shadow fell over her, momentarily eclipsing the sun. She looked up, her heart leaping into her throat, to see a young man and a donkey standing less than twenty feet away. Fear coiled in her stomach, and she instinctively moved to hide behind Grandmother Li's frail back.

"This young soldier," Grandmother Li stammered, her voice trembling, "we didn't do anything wrong. Please, don't hurt us."

Khawn was struck silent by the sight of Qinru and Grandmother Li. His embarrassment over the donkey vanished, replaced by a profound empathy. He hesitated, his thoughts racing, before finally managing to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shy. "I... I won't hurt you."

He knelt down, extending the donkey's leash towards Grandmother Li. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, a blush creeping up his neck.

"You need this more than me," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

He risked a glance up and saw Qinru staring at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise. He instantly dropped his gaze back to the ground, avoiding eye contact with either woman.

"This grandmother," he continued, his voice still soft, "let me help you get on the donkey's back."

With gentle hands, Khawn helped Grandmother Li onto the donkey, carefully adjusting her position to ensure her comfort and stability. It was only after Qinru had handed the three bags on the ground to her grandmother that he finally offered the leash to Qinru.

"Thank you," Qinru whispered, her voice laced with genuine gratitude.

Khawn, too shy to meet her gaze, mumbled nothing in reply. He turned and walked away quickly, his strides lengthening with each step. Twenty steps away, a sudden realization struck him: his water bag still hung on his belt. He quickly unclipped it, turned, and ran back to Qinru. Without a word, he gently took her hand, pressed the cool, leather bag into her palm, and then, just as quickly, ran back towards the receding Magoli soldiers, his face burning.

Qinru watched Khawn's retreating back until he disappeared into the shifting crowd of Magoli soldiers. A soft, heartfelt whisper escaped her lips: "Thank you."

When he arrived, everyone was already on their horses and they realized Khawn was walking, not on the back of a donkey.

"Why walking?" Zhi asked. "Where is your ride?"

Khawn said, "I realized there was someone who needed that donkey more than I did."

Jeet said with a smile, "Did you give it away? Why kid? I tried so hard to find you that donkey."

Khawn looked wildly at Jeet and Naksh and said, "I would rather walk to Ntsua-Ntu than ride on a donkey's back."

Chinua looked down at Khawn and said, "Your feet can't keep up with the speed of these horses."

Khawn looked up at Chinua and said, "The speed of the donkey cannot either."

Chinua looked at Khawn, then her gaze swept to the men around her. A silent exchange passed between them, a shared understanding flickering in their eyes – a mutual, unspoken agreement to stop teasing the young soldier. They had all witnessed his quiet act of generosity, the moment he'd given his donkey to the two vulnerable civilian women. But then, as Khawn's face turned a brilliant, fiery red, Chinua couldn't hold back. A sudden, irrepressible peal of laughter escaped her, quickly joined by the booming mirth of the men.

Khawn said annoyingly, "If you've all laughed enough, it's time for us to leave."

Chinua held back her laughter because she knew that if she spoke or laughed any more, Khawn would not accept her offer.

She held out her hand to Khawn and said, "Come on."

Khawn grabbed Chinua's hand and jumped on the horse.

As night finally fell on the second day of their journey, Chinua and her escort reached the towering gates of Ntsua-Ntu City.

The evening was still young, and the city hummed with life. Many people strolled through the brightly lit streets with relatives and friends, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns and enjoying the vibrant atmosphere. The cheerful murmur of countless conversations drifted from within the city, reaching even the main entrance of Ntsua-Ntu.

As they entered the city, Chinua knocked lightly on the side of the horse carriage where Misheel rode. "Minister Misheel," she called out.

Misheel's head poked out of the window, his expression questioning. "Chinua, what do you need?"

"My men will return to my residence," Chinua stated. "I will enter the palace with you, Khunbish, and Khenbish."

Misheel turned to look at Timicin inside the carriage. "You should go home and see your mother," he advised warmly. "She misses you dearly."

The carriage slowed to a halt. Timicin and Hye dismounted, walking towards Chinua, who had just swung gracefully from her horse.

Khawn, ever the protective one, quickly pulled Hye onto the horse he'd been sharing, ensuring his safety. Another soldier also dismounted, taking up a position beside Chinua and the others forming the inner circle.

Timicin took the reins from the soldier, a genuine smile on his face as he looked at Chinua. "You and your men are always welcome at my residence."

Chinua returned his smile, a playful glint in her eyes. "I don't think you'll have much time to accompany us, Timicin," she teased, "because you'll be far too busy going from one blind date to the next!"

Timicin lightly punched Chinua's arm in mock indignation, a playful gesture. He then swung onto his horse and rode away in the direction of his home, a lingering chuckle in the air.

Chinua and the remaining soldier climbed into the carriage, settling onto the bench opposite Misheel. With a gentle lurch, the carriage began to roll slowly towards the palace gate, leaving her seven loyal men behind.

Drystan turned to Zhi, his stomach rumbling. "Let's go get something to eat before we head back to the house. There's no one at home to cook for us."

"Let's eat at the same place," Zhi agreed, a comfortable familiarity in his voice.

"Yeah," Naksh chimed in, "I like their wine."

Hye stretched, a yawn escaping him. "Let's go... I'm starving. I'll come back to rest after dinner. I won't drink with you, though."

Jeet laughed, a booming sound. "Drinking with you is no fun, then!"

The men shared a round of hearty laughter and then, their hunger guiding them, headed towards their favorite inn.

The vibrant hum of excited voices filled the throne hall, a cheerful current against the diligent bustle of palace maids weaving in and out, laden with steaming platters and brimming cups. Within the grand hall, guests and senior ministers alike shared a lavish dinner with Batukhan and the royal family of Hmagol, the air thck with the aroma of roasted meats and fermented mare's milk.

Batukhan turned to his left, a genuine smile softening the lines around his eyes as he met Prince Geming's gaze. Geming sat beside Ankhtsetseg at their shared table, an expectant air about him. "Prince Geming," Batukhan began, his voice a warm invitation, "I sincerely hope you find our food to your liking."

Geming offered a polite, almost constrained smile in return. "Thank you, Your Highness," he replied, his words carefully chosen, "the food is truly excellent."

"I am delighted to hear it," Batukhan affirmed, his gaze sweeping across the table. "As you can see, these are my children, your future in-laws. My other sons, unfortunately, are unable to attend the royal wedding, and for that, I offer my deepest apologies."

"There will be ample opportunities to meet them in the future," Geming responded gracefully, his demeanor unruffled.

A moment later, Tong knelt beside Batukhan, whispering a few hushed words that brought a sudden, triumphant grin to Batukhan's face. He turned to his attendant, "Set two more tables," he instructed, his voice ringing with renewed authority. Just as he finished, he raised his head, his eyes fixing on the entrance as Chinua strode in, flanked by Khunbish, Khenbish, and Misheel.

A faint, rhythmic clang of metal armor and the heavy thud of four resolute footsteps echoed from the grand entrance, a sound that cut through the festive chatter. Every gaze in the throne hall swiveled, drawn inexorably towards the main door.

Batukhan rose, his powerful frame unfolding, and stepped forward with arms wide open. "Welcome home, my daughter," he declared, his voice thick with a warmth that reached every corner of the hall. He enveloped Chinua in a tight hug, patting her twice on the back, a gesture of profound relief and pride. Next, he clapped Khunbish's left shoulder, then Khenbish's, acknowledging their presence. Turning to Misheel, he offered a grateful, knowing smile. "Thank you. Now, take your seat."

Chinua's eyes immediately sought out Bastsaikhan, who sat to her right, deep in conversation with Esen and Yargui. A surge of relief washed over her, and she hurried to him, slipping into the empty seat at his table. Khunbish and Khenbish settled at the table directly behind her, their watchful presence a silent reassurance.

Batukhan picked up a ceremonial bowl of mare's milk, its surface gleaming in the hall's lamplight. "I would like to toast the Fourth Princess!" he announced, his voice booming, "who successfully assisted our allies and secured our peace agreement!"

The ministers, their faces beaming, all raised their bowls in unison, their voices thundering through the hall: "Congratulations to the Fourth Princess!"

"Your Majesty," a minister began, rising from his seat, his voice clear and resonant, "since the Fourth Princess has brought such a resounding victory home, I suggest that the reward for Her Highness should be no less than that of any great general!"

"I agree wholeheartedly!" Batukhan affirmed, his eyes bright with approval. "Chinua, I will reward you three thousand pieces of gold, two hundred horses, and one hundred rolls of the finest silk. As for the soldiers, Esen, I will let you take care of that."

Bastsaikhan turned to Chinua, a warm, expansive smile spreading across his face, his eyes shining with unadulterated pride. "You did it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Congratulations."

Chinua leaned closer to Bastsaikhan, her voice barely a whisper, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "What should I do with these awards?" she asked, the weight of the gifts suddenly feeling immense.

Bastsaikhan's smile deepened, and he gently took her hand, his thumb tracing the back of her knuckles. "It's yours, my dear princess. You can do whatever you want with it. I'm incredibly proud of you, Chinua."

Chinua turned, her gaze meeting his, and saw the glistening tears in Bastsaikhan's eyes, reflecting the lamplight like tiny jewels. She squeezed his hand firmly, a silent promise in her touch. "You are my brother," she stated, her voice unwavering, a pillar of strength. "No matter what happens, I'm with you."

"Your Majesty," Erhi's voice suddenly cut through the warmth of the moment, a surprisingly sharp edge to its usual soft tone. Batukhan turned, his expression subtly shifting. "My happiness extends to both Your Majesty and the Fourth Princess," Erhi continued, her eyes fixed on Batukhan, though her hands clasped nervously in front of her. "I know my request may be excessive, but it is a necessity for my peace of mind."

"What do you wish to ask?" Batukhan inquired, his brow furrowing slightly, a hint of caution entering his voice.

Erhi took a bracing breath, her gaze darting briefly to the floor before meeting Batukhan's again. "Your Majesty, I have a difficult request regarding the journey to Zhugow City. Inspired by the bravery I have witnessed in the Fourth Princess, I humbly ask if Her Highness might accompany the eldest princess."

"Concubine Erhi, this may be a little inappropriate because the Fourth Princess is not part of the imperial escort," one minister cut in quickly, his voice sharp with disapproval, his eyes narrowed.

"Concubine Erhi, how dare you ask one princess to escort another princess!" Qara's voice thundered, her face flushing crimson with indignation. "The Fourth Princess is not a slave in the palace; you cannot assign her tasks at will! You forgot: her title is princess, the grand general of the east, not imperial guard!"

"Your Highness, that was not my intention," Erhi whispered, her shoulders slumping, her voice tinged with genuine sadness, but her eyes shone with a mysterious, unsettling secret.

Qara looked coldly at Erhi, her expression unyielding. "Then what is your intention?" she demanded, her voice an icy blade.

A mournful quality entered Erhi's voice, low and thick with sorrow. "I just thought that the eldest princess and the Fourth Princess are both His Majesty's daughters and get along very well... Although the eldest princess is favored by the Tanggolian crown prince... there shouldn't be any..." Erhi's voice trailed off, her gaze falling to her lap, displaying an innocent, vulnerable figure to those inside the royal hall. And yet, within her heart, a secret smile bloomed as she waited for Chinua to fall into her trap.

Suddenly, Chinua rose abruptly, cutting across Erhi's hesitant words. Her voice was firm and resolute, echoing through the now-hushed hall. "Concubine Erhi, I will escort the eldest princess to Zhugow City!"

Qara stiffened, her eyes widening in genuine astonishment. "Chinua..." she began, her voice filled with surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Chinua turned to face Qara, her stance unwavering, her conviction radiating outward. "Concubine Erhi has never asked me to do anything," she stated, her voice resonating with quiet power. "Since she trusts me to accompany the eldest princess to Zhugow City, I will go."

Erhi stood up and bowed slightly to Chinua, a soft smile gracing her lips, outwardly showing her appreciation. But inside, her heart bloomed with laughter as her eyes, full of a chilling satisfaction, gazed across the royal hall at Chinua.