Chapter 64: Sha Sha Poqi

Sha Sha saw a group of people sweeping in, only a few rode horses, most held battle-axes and swords, and some carried bows and arrows.

They could flee south along the King's Road, but fleeing was never an option for clan warriors.

She took the leather pouch that served as a token, stuffed it into her clothing pocket, turned the unicorn, and, following her father's order, headed south.

As she fled, she glanced back, hoping her father and Cavalryman Ivan could kill all those bandits.

Their cavalry was few—how could they match Father's forces? Although their numbers were small, clan warriors could always fight ten to one.

Right?

The King's Road still had a little snow; it was clear few people traveled it, occasionally only a few rabbit and fox paw prints marked the snow or exposed mud. Whether they were rabbit or fox prints, she had no time to observe.

At another time, she would have followed the prints into the woods on either side, tracked them down, and captured them, but not now.

Are there wolves in the forest? Elders often said the Northern Border was ruled by wolves—how many must there be? Besides, I've heard the Northern Border also has a vast forest related to wolves, called Wolf Forest.

There must be wolves, right?

She decided she would never dart into the side woods before danger appeared.

After running south along the road for a while, she stopped the unicorn, looked back, and the battle cries had not ceased.

They had already clashed. She saw Cavalryman Ivan charge first into the enemy, followed by Buzha, Kalong, and Grey Hand; Ivan wielded a poleaxe, chopping off several heads in succession, and from afar she saw the barbarians' blood spraying high.

She saw the red-haired woman loosing arrows nonstop, each taking a warrior; Kalong and Grey Hand were all dead, the red-haired woman's feathered arrows piercing their necks.

Damn woman. She wanted to return to the fight so her own arrow could pierce that woman's neck.

Her father charged into the enemy from the other side; his unicorn beneath him should have been wildly discharging electricity all around, she saw the barbarians fall before they even touched him, and the troops behind followed up, harvesting them at will.

Cavalryman Ivan noticed the woman with bow and arrow, charged on his unicorn, and the unicorn's horn savagely pierced the red-haired woman's chest; she slumped limp.

At that moment several barbarians fiercely stabbed their swords into the unicorn.

Sha Sha felt her heart dripping blood.

"Run!" she heard Uncle Wildcat shout at her, and then Sha Sha saw the barbarians cut off his head.

Sha Sha patted the unicorn's neck, clung to it tightly, held back tears, and urged it forward. The unicorn's endurance surpasses a horse's, but its speed may not exceed a horse's.

The battle sounds faded beneath her own panting, and she saw three cavalrymen running toward her from afar—only three.

She turned the unicorn's head, called to it softly, and it immediately veered off the King's Road into the roadside ditch, desperately burrowing into the thicket beside it.

In the ditch the withered grass scraped her legs, arms, and face as the unicorn crashed through the brush; especially a patch on her face felt sliced open in a long wound, agonizingly painful.

The unicorn slipped into the dense forest just before the three horsemen could catch up.

Come on, come on—once we reach the forest I'll offer each of you to the Tree God and devour you one by one.

She rode the unicorn through the woods, flushing flocks of birds wherever she passed.

She drew her hunting bow from her pocket, noticing blood from her facial wound dripping down and staining the back of her hand; she hastily wiped it dry and directed the unicorn.

The three horsemen still clung close, shouting to each other to signal her position.

The forest belongs to the unicorn, not the horse. She thought.

She glanced back. The pursuers were too far; the hunting bow offered no chance.

She pressed on deeper into the forest.

Why are they chasing me? Why kill Father, Red Carp, Uncle Wildcat? We've just arrived in the Northern Border!

Isn't the Northern Border supposed to be safe?

Sparse yet dense ancient trees dotted the woods, their year‑round green trunks twisting tangled roots across the ground; winter had come, withered vines hung sporadically from branches, and as the unicorn passed they seemed to wave hello.

Deeper still it became vast and dark. Perfect—there it would be easier to hunt.

They must think I'll fear them, panic and lose my way. No way—I am Poqi's daughter.

In the forest's deeper reaches lay thick, old snow that seemed to block all sunlight; beneath lay soft leaves, the young unicorn trudged with difficulty, kicking out deep pits. Soon its pace slowed, its breath growing ragged.

Sha Sha knew she could go no further.

The footprints she and the unicorn left in the deep woods would be like those of foxes and rabbits on the road—trackable by hunters.

She would be the hunter, not the prey.

She dismounted, stroked its neck to signal it to wait behind a tree, then crawled toward another direction with her small bow.

Treat them as clever prey, Sha Sha told herself.

She drew deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart.

Wind swept through the woods, bringing ice shards from the treetops onto her face; it felt cool, yet the injured spot burned painfully.

"Come out, girl! We've already seen you!" she heard a barbarian shout.

"If you come out obediently, we promise not to harm you." That was the barbarian's voice; nearby others chimed in with languages she couldn't understand at all.

They were spread far apart, not walking together.

Sha Sha would not act rashly.

She bent low, following the depressions left by beasts' footsteps, stepping on the soft leaf litter, feeling steady.

She hid behind a sentinel tree—straight as a pole, its leaves needle‑like. The sentinel tree's upright trunk offered poor cover, but she had no choice; she saw a barbarian slowly approaching.

He was wrapped in layered hides; if her small bow struck only his body it would surely do no damage. The only viable targets were his exposed head and neck—best the neck, for a clean shot there would kill him outright.

Perhaps she could let him die slowly instead.

She heard horses' hooves on snow and the crunch of leaves underfoot.

She nocked an arrow from her quiver onto the bowstring.

She told herself to regard them as game.

Three somewhat larger, smarter quarry.

She lowered herself as much as possible, staying outside the barbarian's line of sight, waiting for him to draw near.

The sound drew nearer, horses' hooves sweeping across snow, then cracking the twigs and leaves beneath with a snap‑crackle.

She slipped a gap in cover and drew the bowstring.

"The unicorn is here!" he heard the voice, and then there was another burst of language she couldn't understand.

The cavalry beside her turned his horse's head at that moment.

Just then, she poked out from behind the sentry tree, raised her bow and released; the sharp arrow shot out instantly, and at the instant it was shot, she knew the cavalryman wouldn't survive.

The savage fell dead at the sound, and the horse let out a long whinny.

She quickly shifted her hiding place, moving toward the unicorn's location.

She took out a second arrow.

Two savages rode on horses, quickly approaching; seeing the dead savage, they immediately dismounted and carefully hid behind the trees.

The forest returned to silence; Shasha could hear the breathing of the arrow‑struck savage struggling as he lay on the ground, blood trickling from his pierced neck and spraying out, staining the surrounding snow red.

At that moment the strong smell of blood spread, driving away the forest's icy fresh scent.

I am a hunter, I am a hunter. Shasha thought, the mountain and tree gods are blessing me.

She blew her whistle, emitting a long, sharp whistle; the whistle pierced the woods, the unicorn heard it and came out lowing, rushing toward their hiding place.

Shasha stepped out from behind the tree, drew her bow to the full, and fiercely shot at the enemy who showed his head; the arrow shot out instantly. Shasha saw the feathered arrow sink into the savage's neck from the side, and he fell silently.

Another savage swung his long axe at the unicorn, hitting it squarely in the face, and it let out a cry of pain.

He had no weapon left!

Shasha drew a third arrow.

She quickly moved forward; seeing this, the savage panicked, mounted his horse, the tree blocking part of his view, and he had already turned and fled toward outside the forest.

I am a hunter.

She wanted to catch up quickly and give him an arrow too.

The unicorn was still calling in pain; Shasha blindly shot an arrow in anger at the fleeing savage, then turned toward the unicorn.

The bald copper axe head had chopped a deep wound into its forehead, and blood already smeared its mouth and nose.

"Shhh... I'm here to help you." she kept comforting.

Looking at the bloody wound, she couldn't help but want to cry.

Seeing her approach, the unicorn couldn't help but stretch out its face toward her, and she felt her whole face was covered in blood.

"Wait a moment." she said to the unicorn.

The unicorn trembled as it lowed, and the sound also made Shasha heartbroken.

She took coarse cloth from the unicorn's rear pouch, continually wiping the blood from its cheeks, but the blood kept flowing. She finally couldn't help but burst into tears, pressing the cloth hard against the wound.

After a while, the unicorn lay weakly on the ground, the cloth already soaked with blood. She followed the wound and could faintly see the white bone inside.

"Wait for me, wait for me." she said to the unicorn.

She walked over to the nearest "corpse"; he was still trembling and struggling, the feathered arrow having damaged his airway, his hands gripping his neck tightly. Shasha saw the fear in his eyes.

She drew a dagger.

It took a long time, expending all her strength, before she could barely pull the savage a little closer to the unicorn.

"May his life entertain you." she whispered, hoping the gods his father and ancestors believed in would help her.

She held the unicorn, waiting for it to stand again, her eyes always fixed on the direction the savage had disappeared.

She wept regretfully; she could have waited for the enemy to reveal an opening before acting.

When a wolf howl came from afar, she rose from the ground and listened carefully. She felt all her body hair stand on end.

"We should go." she softly said to the unicorn.

The unicorn struggled to rise from the snow, its eyes full of fatigue.

Shasha walked beside it, step by step leaving this bloody place.

When night fell, this place became the wolves' feast.

She didn't know how far she had to go to keep a safe distance from the wolves. They walked and stopped, the unicorn letting out soft, mournful lows, as if it could no longer endure.

"Farther, farther." she said sadly to it.

They hadn't gone far, and she felt she could still see far off the pool of blood the savage had left.

When the sunlight sank into the woods and the world fell back into darkness, Shasha held the unicorn, curled up in the snow.

The night jungle wind blew up; Shasha felt her mouth and nose full of the taste of blood, the wind also reeking of blood. She also felt cold, even breathing becoming difficult.

The unicorn's body remained warm.

Thinking that the little unicorn might turn cold by tomorrow morning, she couldn't help but feel sorrowful.

She took out the onion it loved from her belt, but the little unicorn merely touched it, letting out a tired low.

She could only hold it tightly.

She was awakened by a wolf howl.

She touched the unicorn; it was still breathing. She gently stroked it to keep it calm, then slowly rose, hid behind the nearby tree, and looked toward where the savage's corpse lay.

The wolf pack was already enjoying their feast.

Shasha dared not make the slightest sound, and hoped that the two people could feed the wolf pack; otherwise, she could not protect the unicorn.

After the wolf pack had eaten its fill, it let out rounds of howls.

The close-range wolf howls made her heart pound with fear.

After the feast, the wolf pack again began to scuffle and fight in place; the victor let out a proud roar, the loser emitted a plaintive chirp. She was downwind, and they did not notice her.

Shasha stared intently at the wolf pack in the darkness; when the tiniest sliver of moon shifted from one side of the sky to the other, they slowly withdrew. Before one wolf turned and left, it looked at her, its green eyes glinting.

She drew a dagger, held it in her hand, and kept it that way until dawn.

She felt her legs had completely frozen stiff.

Only then did she remember to feel grief for her father, Uncle Wildcat, and Cavalry Ivan and the others.

Are they all dead? she wiped her tears.

She put down the dagger, rubbed her legs, and once she felt back to normal, she rushed to where the unicorn was.

She reached to touch it, but unexpectedly it jumped up and stood, letting out a moo. Sha Sha was so happy she just wanted to shout.

The tree god let the wolf pack enjoy the offering in its place, I guess!

This time the unicorn happily ate the onion, but its spirit was clearly still not good enough.

Its forehead wound had scabbed overnight, and the ugly scar appeared where the lightning had been, rudely splitting the lightning in two.

As long as it lives, the lightning is willing to become whatever it wants.

She moved slowly forward along the forest edge, beside the King's Road.

When she felt it was already noon, she vaguely saw pedestrians heading south from a gap in the woods.

She signaled the unicorn to stop, hid behind a beech tree, then she herself lay forward, peering out from the forest.

Red carp—she instantly recognized it.

He seemed to have grown taller, his face pale.