After the dust settled on the small dirt road, Haitao and his ten soldiers continued their walk towards the training camp. As they approached the gate, they saw Altan speaking with ten other guards. The moment Altan spotted Haitao and his men, he strode directly toward them.
Altan's gaze flickered from Timicin to Haitao, an ugly smile twisting his lips. "You lot are always late," he taunted. "Even a tortoise could beat you."
Haitao chuckled. "What kind of tortoise are you talking about?" he replied, looking around. "When we got here, we didn't see a single one." He scanned the ground, then turned to his ten men. "Do any of you see a tortoise walking behind, in front of, or beside us?"
"I didn't see them before," Chinua piped up, "but now that you mention it, I did see three turtles while we were talking."
Chaghatai grinned. "I saw them too, but what should those turtles be called?" He elbowed Timicin. "You're good at naming things. What kind of turtles do your fine eyes see?"
Timicin smirked. "I see three dumb turtles standing not far from us," he retorted.
Altan stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "Really?" he sneered. "But I saw a lazy and useless thousand-year-old tortoise and his stupid little tortoises always walking behind the others."
Haitao laughed heartily. "I thought you were going to talk about a tortoise. A thousand-year-old tortoise is good, it means I'll live longer than you!" He laughed, and his ten soldiers joined him, a wave of mirth sweeping through their ranks.
Altan lunged, reaching for Haitao's collar, but Od's hand shot out, seizing Altan's wrist. Od squeezed Altan's hand hard. "Respect those higher than you," he warned, shoving Altan's hand away. "Otherwise, you may be punished... Military Rule Number Ten…"
"Or is this comrade – whatever your name is – unfamiliar with the military rules and regulations General Batzorig himself suggested?" Och interjected, his voice sharp.
A soldier ran up, panting slightly. "Captain Haitao, General Batzorig is asking for you," he announced.
Haitao handed the two baskets to Och. "Go back and prepare dinner," he instructed. "Remember to save some food for me."
Haitao walked slowly towards Batzorig's tent. When he entered, the other nine captains were already seated on the ground. He found an empty spot and sat beside one of them. A short while later, Dzhambul and General Batzorig entered, accompanied by Lixin. Dzhambul moved to the chair beside Batzorig, while Lixin took a position standing near Dzhambul.
General Batzorig began, "A soldier brought urgent news: the food supplies sent to the south were stolen by bandits."
"I just received a letter from Father," Dzhambul added, "asking me to form a team to bring another food supply to the southern border."
Chengzhi spoke up. "We are still heavily involved in training recruits here," he pointed out. "It would be difficult to leave and dispatch the food supplies."
Dzhambul swept his gaze across the ten captains. "Are any of you willing to volunteer?" he asked, his voice smooth.
"I will volunteer," Dawa offered immediately.
Dzhambul paused, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Ah, Captain Dawa," he said, "you are indeed the best captain in the North, and I cannot permit you to leave. You have too many critical responsibilities here. I need a captain with the least responsibilities." Dzhambul's gaze then landed on Haitao. "Captain Haitao," he said, "how many recruits do you have under your command?"
Haitao met Dzhambul's gaze. "Grand General, I have ten recruits under my command," he replied evenly.
Dzhambul's smile widened. "Excellent. Hmm... I've decided that Captain Haitao and his ten recruits will go south to deliver the supplies to Prince Mönkhbat." He smirked, his eyes boring into Haitao's. "Do you agree?"
Haitao knew this was not an ordinary prince, but the King's favored son, adored by many ministers. He lowered his head, acknowledging the command. "When does the Grand General wish us to depart?" he asked, his voice subdued.
"The sooner the better," Dzhambul stated. "What about tomorrow? Do you have any questions?"
"No, Grand General," Haitao responded firmly.
"Very well, then," Dzhambul concluded. "Tomorrow morning, before sunrise, you will take your ten soldiers to the pier. A boat will transport you to Nta-tsua, where you will meet Captain Taban. You and your ten men will then join Captain Taban's crew and proceed south to Lao Da Pass."
"Understood, Grand General," Haitao affirmed.
"General," Dzhambul instructed, "please ensure all soldiers receive three months' salary in advance."
General Batzorig nodded. "I will make the necessary arrangements as soon as this meeting concludes," he confirmed.
"Thank you all for your hard work," Dzhambul said, rising. "Dismissed."
After the ten captains filed out of the tent, General Batzorig turned and approached Dzhambul. "Your Highness…" he began, his voice hesitant.
Dzhambul stood, turning to face General Batzorig. "What troubles you, General?" he asked, his tone deceptively mild.
"Chinua is one of Captain Haitao's recruits," General Batzorig stated plainly.
Dzhambul clasped his hands behind his back. "So?" he asked, an unreadable expression on his face.
"I just don't think it's appropriate for Chinua to go on this mission," General Batzorig clarified.
Dzhambul turned, his expression hardening. "General, you must remember that the moment Chinua stepped into the Northern Training Camp, she became a soldier without special treatment," he stated coolly.
"I understand, Your Highness, but the person who sent Chinua here is King Batukhan himself," General Batzorig emphasized.
"If Father says something," Dzhambul replied, a chilling smile touching his lips, "I will take full responsibility for today's decision. You needn't worry." Lixin, ever attentive, lifted the tent flap, and Dzhambul swept out into the training ground.
Dzhambul and Lixin grabbed the leashes of their horses, the three soldiers trailing a respectful distance behind them. To their far right, Dzhambul spotted Haitao approaching his ten soldiers, who were gathered around a small campfire.
"Aren't you afraid?" Lixin asked, his voice low. "What General Batzorig said makes sense."
Dzhambul smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I'll be more afraid if she comes back alive," he muttered.
Lixin glared at Dzhambul, then a thin smile touched his lips. "Why are you so determined to kill her?" he asked. He knelt on one knee, and Dzhambul used his thigh as a stepping stone to mount his own horse. Lixin swiftly sprang onto his.
"Because the second in line is the Queen's son," Dzhambul explained, "and even though he is disabled, the crown on his head hasn't fallen. I know precisely what the Queen Mother is thinking: since her disabled son cannot enter the battlefield, she's grooming Chinua to take his place."
Lixin gave Dzhambul a chilling look. "You are scary," he murmured.
"Not as scary as you," Dzhambul countered with a dry laugh.
"What do you want me to do?" Lixin asked, his voice now devoid of humor.
"Tell your men to get rid of her once and for all," Dzhambul commanded, his voice cold. He then whipped his horse, sending it thundering across the training ground towards the archery range.
Lixin turned to one of the three soldiers. "Send a message to Drystan," he ordered. "Tell Drystan to eliminate Captain Haitao and his men before they reach Lao Da Village."
The soldier nodded, his face grim, and turned to depart swiftly.
Around the campfire, the ten soldiers sat, cooking dinner, their voices animated with laughter and conversation about the provisions they'd received from the villagers. Haitao walked slowly towards them, nudged Chaghatai aside good-naturedly, and settled himself between Chaghatai and Terbish.
Haitao surveyed the young soldiers with a smile. "What's for dinner tonight?" he asked.
"Sweet potatoes, dried beef, and eggs," Erden rattled off.
"Keep the dried beef," Haitao instructed.
Timicin frowned. "We spent a lot of effort helping those villagers today," he grumbled. "Why are you so stingy, not letting us eat the dried beef?"
"Keep it for the journey," Haitao stated simply.
"What journey?" Muunokhoi asked, puzzled. "Are we going to help another village?"
Haitao shook his head. "I was called to a meeting," he began, his tone serious. "The General has assigned us a mission. We're heading south."
At the word 'south,' Chinua's eyes lit up with excitement. "How far south are we talking about?" she eagerly asked.
"To Lao Da Pass," Haitao confirmed.
"That's the southern border?" Khunbish clarified.
"Yes," Haitao affirmed.
"Why?" Erden simply asked, his brow furrowed.
Haitao explained, "The supplies intended for Prince Mönkhbat and his soldiers were stolen by bandits. We're to meet Captain Taban at Nta-tsua and help him transport the food supplies to Lao Da Pass."
Timicin glanced around at the ten faces, a wry smile touching his lips. He found it almost absurd. "Us?" he chuckled. "Eleven of us?"
"Well, we are the least indispensable here, and our numbers are small," Haitao responded. "I also believe this will be a good learning opportunity for all of you."
"When do we leave?" Chinua pressed, her excitement barely contained.
"Early tomorrow morning," Haitao stated.
Od reached for the basket of eggs, but Erden quickly grabbed his hand. "Where are you going with these good eggs?" he demanded, a hint of alarm in his voice.
Od pulled his hand free. "I'm going to boil them and take them with us!" he announced, his purpose clear. The moment Od turned, he saw General Batzorig approaching their group. "General!" he exclaimed, snapping to attention.
General Batzorig handed Haitao eleven small, heavy pouches. "This is three months' advance payment," he explained, "and some extra travel expenses."
Captain Haitao's smiles widened. "Thank you, General," he said, his gratitude genuine.
General Batzorig's gaze settled on Timicin. "You, come with me," he commanded, his voice low.
Timicin stood and followed General Batzorig towards his private tent. Inside the small, dimly lit space, General Batzorig sighed. "Timicin, your father asked me to look out for you," he began, "but now you've been chosen for this mission to the south."
"General, I don't mind it at all," Timicin replied, his voice firm.
General Batzorig looked at Timicin, his expression grave. "You and Chinua have had your disagreements before," he said firmly, "but this is a matter of paramount importance. You must put aside your differences and work together."
"I understand, General," Timicin acknowledged. "I will take your teaching to heart."
"I believe you will do well," General Batzorig continued. "Bandits are appearing frequently along that route, so be extremely careful. Furthermore, I have a side mission for you."
Timicin's eyes widened in surprise. "A side mission?" he asked, his voice hushed. "What is it?"
General Batzorig leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "This mission is of the utmost importance and cannot fail. The price of failure is not just your life, but the lives of your entire family."
Timicin looked up at General Batzorig, his jaw tightening. "Then I cannot accept this mission, General," he stated, "if it is so critically important."
General Batzorig's voice was unwavering. "You have no choice, Timicin," he said flatly.
Timicin swallowed hard. "What is the mission?" he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Whether or not you manage to get the supplies to Lao Da Pass," General Batzorig commanded, his eyes fixed on Timicin's, "you cannot let anything happen to Chinua."
"Why?" Timicin breathed, dumbfounded.
"Do as I tell you, Timicin," General Batzorig cut him off, his voice stern, "and ask no more questions."
Timicin remained dumbfounded, but he dared not press further, knowing General Batzorig must have profound reasons. He finally sighed. "I will do my utmost to bring Chinua back alive, General," he promised, the weight of the task settling on him.
"Anyone can get hurt or die, Timicin," General Batzorig reiterated, patting his shoulder with a heavy hand, "but not Chinua."
Timicin simply nodded, the gravity of the mission fully dawning on him. "I understand," he said quietly.