Chapter Eighty-Five: Breaking Out

The sentries had gone frantic; the sheep had broken into a panic. “You two, take the prisoners inside. The rest of you, come with me and chase the flock!” the captain shouted in the mountain language, and led several warriors toward the stampeding sheep.

Qi Jun waited a little longer. When he was sure no more warriors were coming after him, he glanced at the mountain men far off in the distance, where they were already trying to corral the sheep, then immediately lifted his bow and ran toward the stockade. As he moved, he quickly reconstructed the terrain in his mind from what he had observed on the heights, tracing out the route.

What he had not expected was that the moment he rushed into the stockade, he would run straight into two mountain tribesmen hurrying out. The three of them froze in shock at once.

Qi Jun only hesitated for a breath before raising his hand and loosing an arrow at one of them. The tribesman had no chance to react; the arrow took him through the throat, and he instinctively clutched at his neck before collapsing backward.

The other tribesman was just about to cry out when Qi Jun, with no time to reload, simply hurled the crossbow in his hand at the man's face. The blow made the tribesman grunt and clutch his face in pain. In that instant Qi Jun sprang forward, drew his short sword, and plunged it into the man's heart.

It all happened in only a few seconds. Qi Jun drew a long breath to settle his nerves and casually wiped the warm enemy blood on his clothes.

Had he been even a little slower just now, the larger force outside would have been drawn back.

He picked up the crossbow and checked it; fortunately, it had not been damaged by the violent throw.

He knew the warriors outside would soon realize the reason for the sheep's commotion and return at once. He could not spare the time to hide the two corpses. Loading another bolt as he moved, he slipped deeper into the stockade.

The stockade was not large, but finding the place where the captured county warriors were being held was not easy.

Qi Jun held his crossbow at the ready and carefully searched along the outer walls of each earthen hut. As he turned a corner, he once again met a mountain warrior head-on.

He reacted instantly, raising his hand and firing at the man's head. The shot was clean and merciless.

The warrior was struck down without warning. His face still held the astonishment from seeing Qi Jun a moment before, but his body went slack as though all strength had been drained from it and fell to the ground.

As the corpse hit the earth, the companion following behind him stared wide-eyed in shock at this sudden intruder.

Qi Jun was startled and immediately swept his short sword toward the man's throat. The warrior instinctively raised a hand to block, only to have his wrist severed by the sharp blade.

“Aaah!” The warrior screamed in agony, then remembered to reach with his remaining right hand for the saber at his waist.

Qi Jun gave him no chance. He swept out a leg and knocked him to the ground, then planted a foot on his chest and drove the sword in with both hands.

The warrior clutched at the blade with his right hand in desperate resistance, blood streaming down the edge of the sword and onto his chest, yet he could only glare hatred at the enemy before him.

Qi Jun tried to pull the sword free, but the dying warrior held it fast.

The man's final cry of pain alerted the others. Behind Qi Jun came a sudden rush of footsteps and a clamor of shouting.

Qi Jun cursed under his breath. He had no choice but to abandon the short sword and snatch up the saber from the corpse. The path he had come by was already blocked; he had to keep running deeper in.

He had only taken a few steps when he heard, from some corner within the stockade, a burst of terrified, miserable howling. Qi Jun's heart tightened. He immediately discerned the direction and quickened his pace.

The closer he drew, the clearer the cries of pain became.

When he crouched by a wall corner and peered out, the sight before him made him draw in a sharp breath.

Six county warriors were lined up and hung from a wooden frame. The one on the far left had already been lashed so savagely by a spiked whip that his whole body was drenched in blood, and it was impossible to tell whether he still lived.

The second warrior's wrists and ankles had been cut with knives. Blood poured from the wounds and had filled the basin beneath him to the brim. His tendons had been severed; even if he survived, he would be crippled.

Two mountain warriors were now standing before the third captive, and Qi Jun could not tell what they were doing to the man's feet. The warrior let out curses and ragged, desperate howls, struggling in vain.

The two seemed so consumed by the torture that they had not noticed the warning shouted by their companion earlier, nor the danger closing in on the stockade.

Qi Jun recognized the warrior now being tortured as the same man who had given him water in the daytime, and fury flared in his chest.

He raised his crossbow, crept forward a few steps, and shot one of the warriors through the neck from behind. The other was startled by the ambush and hurriedly drew his waist saber, turning around.

Unfortunately for him, he was still a step too slow. By the time he turned, Qi Jun's saber was already pressed coldly against his Adam's apple.

Metal scraped across skin with a faint tearing sound, and warm blood burst forth from the suddenly ruptured vessels and windpipe.

The warrior saw his own blood splashing like a fountain across the enemy's face. One moment he had been tormenting prisoners; the next, death had taken him.

The warriors hanging from the frame watched Qi Jun dispatch the two mountain men with such ease. Their faces, already ashen, now brightened with the shock and joy of those snatched back from death.

Qi Jun rose onto his toes and cut the rope binding the third warrior's hands, lowering him to the ground, and only then did he notice the man's feet, torn raw and bleeding.

He shuddered all over. Those two mountain warriors had been flaying the skin from the warrior's feet alive.

“Sir... thank you for saving my life...” The warrior endured the agony in his feet and knelt, about to bow his head to the ground before Qi Jun.

Qi Jun had no time to help him. He quickly freed the other three warriors as well. Then he went to the first two, looked up at them, and could only shake his head in helpless regret.

Except for Captain Qin, the three warriors knelt to thank him for saving them.

“If you want to thank me, live long enough to do it back home,” he said, picking up the saber from the dead warrior's body and throwing it before the warrior who was kneeling beside Captain Qin.

Qi Jun helped the injured man to his feet, then glanced at the captain named Qin. Qin stood there dumbly, staring down at the ground. On his face, Qi Jun saw shame, anger, and remorse all at once.

The disorderly footsteps and shouting of the mountain tribesmen were drawing nearer by the moment. Before long, they would be surrounded by ten times their number, with torches, blades, and swords.

“We can't get out. We might as well fight them to the death!” said one warrior, leveling his saber.

“Right. We're dead either way. If we don't take a few mountain dogs with us, it'll be damn frustrating to die like this!” another cried bitterly, looking at the saber in his hand.

“Don't rush in yet! They have the numbers, but they still haven't found us.” Qi Jun stared at the firelight growing closer in the distance, thinking rapidly.

“Do you know where they took the warhorses?” he asked suddenly, turning to the warrior beside him.

“I think I saw... they went that way!” The warrior hesitated, then pointed uncertainly.

“Listen. You two, split up and set fires from both sides to create chaos. Captain Qin, you stay and look after this brother for now. I'll go find our horses...” Qi Jun laid out the breakout plan and held the saber out to Qin.

But the captain, who had remained silent until now, suddenly exploded.

“Why the hell should I listen to you? What the hell are you supposed to be? Don't think that because you saved me I'll start being grateful to you! If you want to run, then run. I'm dying here today!” With a frenzy, Captain Qin snatched the saber from Qi Jun's hand and, cursing all the while, lunged forward.