Episode 1

“All it Takes is GUTS!”

 

I was hungry and in search of fame and fortune, my family being bereaved by robbers and bandits.

 

There was little I could do in life other than fight.

 

I was not fit to be a wife for I was rebellious and not subservient to men, I could not sew a stitch lest I impale my fingers, could not drive a plow straight, could not carve wood lest I hew my fingers with the blade, could not cook lest I burn or over season it to inedibility, and generally, found life's menial tasks unbearably boring.

 

I was generally useless, save that as I grew old enough, I was proficient in wielding a long bladed weapon with speed and brutal force, if not much accuracy.

Clever and crafty fighters could easily best me in a match of skills, especially with smaller, more subtle weapons, but put the long bladed weapons in my hand and I was a fury of whirling death few dare even come close to!

 

I had it in my mind to be a soldier of fortune therefore, and strike forth to make a living for my family by using my wild and unpredictable talent to collect bounties for the emperor.

 

When I got word that there was one particularly notable bandit known as Kim Wa Jin, who had never been caught, and who was a festering thorn in the side of the emperor, with a truly remarkable bounty of ten thousand jin on his head, I felt surely with just this one catch, I could readily make a name for myself as well as support my parents and three younger sisters, Mie Ying, Dae and Desu who were indeed lovely to behold, but would never fetch a good husband coming from such a poor household.

 

It was apparently by fate that one day while I was in town on an errand that even I could not mess up, that I saw the very same personage riding into our humble village, clad in armor and bearing a helmet just like the drawings.

 

I let down my cart and followed the fugitive on foot until they came to the tavern, entering it without even bothering to tie or stable their horse.

 

Although I was tempted to try and rifle through their goods, I felt it was important to listen in on what was going on inside.

 

They were already in the back room when I got to the entrance and the lady at the door said I was too young to be here.

 

“I am fully grown!” I rebuked her sharply, “Do not mistake my youthful beauty for being a child! I am a mighty fighter, renowned in all the land!”

 

“You are an angry, brash and arrogant child who wields a stick like a tantrum!” she pouted, “Because you are 'of age' does not make you an adult!”

 

“Just because you are a woman does not make you a lady either!” I spat back growling at her.

 

“Ladies, please!” the master of the tavern came over in supplication, “Let us not have a disturbance here in my humble and reputable establishment!”

“Tell her to respect a mighty warrior then!” I growled.

 

“I'll respect you when you prove you're worth in this world!” she stuck her tongue out at me.

 

In case you thought I was this way with everybody, let me clue you in: that was my older (twin) sister Yae.

 

She and I have fought like cats and dogs since forever.

 

She is perfect at everything and yet she prefers to wait on drunken men as to having a respectable job or getting married.

 

I say she is just a flirt and seeking a wealthy man instead of marrying one from the village.

 

She says I'm a clod, and a nincompoop and just about every other foul thing a girl could call another.

 

I call her a snooty self important gold digging leech looking for some poor rich idiot to er.

 

Anyhow, by the time I was over shouting at my sister, the armed and armored suspect had come from the back room, towering over the rest of us, not looking to the right or to the left, until he came to me, who just happened to still be standing in the entrance.

 

We locked eyes, those fierce, inky black eyes seemed to bore a hole straight through me, and I found myself involuntarily backing up sideways to let him past without saying so much as a word.

 

As the fighter strode with purpose to their horse, and with one swift step mounted it easily with not only power but with supreme grace, I really began to wonder if this was such a good idea.

 

“Well 'mighty warrior',” my sister taunted, “There he is, go challenge him!”

 

“I-I have to finish my chores for papa first.” I turned my body toward the door where my head had already been and without paying much attention to my sister, walked back out and took up my cart while my eyes followed the stranger down the street and out of sight.

Ep 1, Chapter 2

 

I was so excited about the prospect of capturing a famous and notorious criminal by which to bolster my lagging reputation as a warrior and a bounty hunter that I couldn't help but hum a happy if off key tune.

 

“What's that racket ye'r makin' all about there White Thorn?”

 

'White Thorn' is a nickname I was given because I'm so tough, edgy and salty, just like the plant.

 

“I'm gonna catch me a criminal!” I exulted.

 

“You and what army?” the old man scoffed as he swigged from a gourd.

 

“I don't need an army!” I beat my chest as I put down the hand towel, “I am an army of one!”

 

“Sure glad your mother can't see you like this...” he grumbled and took another swig.

 

“Look who's talkin!” I snapped, “Drinking till you're a shriveled up old hunched over wreck like that, for shame!”

 

“You mind your manners, child.” he growled, regarding me with somewhat cloudy eyes from thick leathery, heavily wrinkled skin.

 

“Oh...” I put on airs like my sister, “But I'm a blossoming young woman now...in the prime of fertility, just waiting for some handsome rich prince to sweep me off my feet and take me to his castle!”

 

He rolled back cackling in laughter.

 

I frowned so hard the scar on my forehead hurt.

 

When he finally caught his breath he gasped out, “They wouldn't want you for a stable boy looking the way you do!”

 

“Huh!” I retorted, “We'll just see about that!” and I scooped out noodles and plunked down at the kitchen table to slurp them up.

Ep 1, Chapter 3

 

Even though I knew my twin sister would be coming in late and would then call out for me to prepare a meal for her, I left as soon as the younger girls were asleep.

 

Our father had long since passed out from the wine so he was in his chair snoring away, allowing me the perfect cover to get out and lead my mount out of the stable and to the edge of the street where there would be less sound from its hooves in the hard packed sand.

 

I had my guandao, which I had inherited from the old man when he gave up fighting not long after mother's death bearing my youngest sister.

 

He had lost the spirit to live, and just hung on in hopes we would all get married off so he could die in peace with a clear conscience.

 

He had always been a good horseman and breeder, so he still raised the horses, often we would go up into the mountains and have mares bred to the stallions of the Uigurs or Huíhé as father and many of the other men in this area called them.

 

We would ride for days up into the mountains with goods and then camp out there, some times we would compete with them to see if the new mares were considered worthy, which in reality was also a test to see if their own stallions were doing a good job or if they needed to be replaced, and I would often end up in a fight with one or more of the boys up there, which never sat well with the elders who seemed to think I was supposed to be tending kettles and doing 'womanly things.'

 

Well here tonight, you could maybe say I was being 'manly' or whatever, but I was hot on the trail of a lot of money and I was going to carve my own way in this world from this point forward!

 

Ep 1, Chapter 4

 

The desert is a hot, dry, wily and dangerous place.

 

I think they stated saying that right after I jumped a caravan thinking they were marauders.

 

Hey-how was I supposed to know they weren't Mongol raiders?

 

What with those long swords and bows, I figured they were just raiders prime from attacking a real caravan!

I got my hide tanned soundly for that one.

 

Its bad enough they had to sew my guts up after it was all said and done, then they beat me so badly they had to stitch up the whip marks too!

 

Parents! I swear!

 

Who needs 'em anyways?

 

Well, at the moment, I only had the one, and he was pretty much run down, so I pretty much ruled the roost around here as long as I didn't get up in the old man's face, so I kinda like to fancy myself as the boss.

 

And on that note, I'm out late, without permission, hunting bandit for their bounty, while pa sleeps off his wine, and my hussy of a sister won't say a thing because she told our younger sisters she hopes I get lost in the desert and never come back.

 

Can ya feel the love?

 

Anyhow.

 

I knew a lot more of this desert than most people out here and spent more time out in it than most have, which is why I have several places where the skin is messed up from scorpion stings and snake bites, more scars than most of the so called 'warriors' of our village, and I'm as brown as a nut.

 

A lot of people think I'm a man at first sight, all tough and leathery like those Uigurs, already got squinting lines around my eyes, my hag of a sister says I look like an old witch, but I say they help ward off the glare and keep out the sand.

 

So here I am scanning the paths in the dim light, looking for those hard to find traces most people miss in the day light.

 

One thing I learned a long time ago is that what you can't see in the blazing sun and whipping wind, you will likely see or smell when the night air cools down and stops moving.

 

During the night the dust settles and the cool air pools up in places making them horribly cold.

 

Most people who ride at night want to remain warm so they ride up on the high points.

The problem with this is that thieves and fugitives tend to stay low to reduce their profiles from the distant observer.

 

This means that at night, the likeliest place to find a heavily armored warrior who is also a wanted man, is in the low laying areas where it is both cooler and more likely to conceal their presence.

 

Keeping in mind that the desert out here is fairly flat, it is not so flat or featureless that one will not find places they can travel which keep a hillock or two between themselves and those who might be pursuing.

 

As long as people can not see you, they are a lot less prone to try and run you down as this is both exhausting, dangerous and most often fruitless since it both wears them out, increases the risk of missing them in the darkness, gives away the fact that they are conducting a concerted search for somebody or some thing and they could even run completely past their quarry and become ripe for ambush.

 

Keeping all of these facts in mind, I traced the most common low lying routes to the southeast from a couple of high vantage points looking first for the vertical column of smoke from even the most carefully concealed of campfires, second for the displaced sand of hooves or camel pads, although hooves in this instance, and finally, the scent of human or animal spoor as it was most likely they would be relieving themselves in the darkness and while people are less prone to see or be able to attack, and while bugs are less prone to be out and about looking for tender skin to bite.

 

Sure enough, about the third watch, in the most southerly swayle, there was a recent clump of horse droppings, showing that his ride had felt at ease enough to expel this crucial clue as to their presence, their speed and their direction of travel.

 

We had trained our mounts to not relieve themselves out on the trail unless given permission to by way of verbal command, that was something my old man came up with and it has proven to be pretty revolutionary in tracking and evading to know this.

 

I knew I was about three watches behind them from the scent and temperature of the mostly dried spoor.

Ep 1, Chapter 5

 

By daybreak, before the wind had begun to pick up and wipe away the trail, I took advantage of the increasing light which would better show the trail of my quarry and broke into a gallop while the air was still cool.

 

I probably caught up a tenth watch, possibly more, although out here it was really difficult to determine such things.

 

When I felt my mount starting to breathe heavily I slowed her down gradually so that she would come to a walk without cooling off to rapidly.

 

I did not have a spare and I did not wish to waste a top quality mare out of the foolishness of trying to rapidly close on the quarry.

 

It would do me no good to overtake them and then have to ride back with two people on one horse.

 

This is a known bad idea here in the desert where horses, and their riders, often die because the riders did not know how to ride in this hard land.

 

When I reached the village of Pi Shan, I got food and water, asked if any of the locals had seen anybody unusual and took notes of their faces when they said the expected answer of 'no'.

 

To a person they all said no, as I knew they would, but I could tell that the fugitive had been by the tavern, the money changer and the general store where I could tell they had bought some jerked meat.

 

As much as you would never think that one could tell, my nose is as sharp as the edge on my weapon!

 

I had acted as if I were merely browsing for my own victuals as I sniffed all of the more likely goods a long distance traveler would have chosen, as well as many of the less likely items, and strangely I smelled a peculiar odor on some of them.

 

Some kind of perfume, not one that the local women wore, but something new to me. It was not at all unpleasant, it reminded me of some kind of flower instead of a derivative of yak musk though.

In all, the person chose a lot of perishable, wet foods, potatoes, fruits, nuts and cheese, instead of the normal diet of jerked meats, dried breads, noodles or at least dried fruit.

 

The wine rack was low, which made me suspect that they had decided on wine over water while traveling, which, to me was sheer foolishness because everybody knows wine dries you out when you begin drinking it by its self over extended periods of time.

 

I paid for my goods and loaded them on the back of my mount and headed out of the village stopping at a stable to pick up enough qiáo to keep my mount for the trip.

 

All of this fodder would weigh her down a lot, but starvation was something one could not afford in exchange for speed.

 

I would just have to travel more carefully than if I were in an all out win-or-die scenario.

 

As I plodded down the trail keeping to the high ground if only so I could make better time on the smoother sand, I pondered this unusual personage I was pursuing and it was so strange it just didn't sit right with me.

 

This person, for being a brigand and a hooligan sure had delicate tastes!

 

Ep 1, Chapter 6

 

I made it to Ho Tan by mid morning, and as it was too hot to safely travel, I found a place on the edge of the village where a house had apparently been left to collapse in on its self and I led my mare inside where we would both have shade for the day.

 

When night fell we picked up and rode again, this time I had something else to spot as I traveled.

 

As fate would have it, drinking wine had done its trick as the rogue warrior was finding it necessary to relieve themselves more and more.

 

What I found most peculiar though, was that this warrior was leaving behind lightly scented cloth...or paper...something very fine and fragile, which seemed to have both the perfume I had smelled before, along with their body odors.

It would seem that they might be using this strange material as a form of wiping cloth, only they did not keep it, but rather left it in the sand.

 

I am guessing that they had hoped that the daytime wind would have masked this as the paper was buried under the sand hastily so as to not be a bright white spot at night, but in the process, left clearly disturbed sand in the process.

 

I suppose, this fine, white, fragrant fluff would be more visible than the sand at night, however, they would have been better off to have kept it with them instead of hoping no master tracker was on their trail.

 

Although I had no use for the soiled material, it intrigued me and I put it in a pouch of my saddle bag.

 

I was pretty sure by now that all of these frequent stops to relieve themselves was going to give me the edge, seeing as I was not prone to wine, and therefore not prone to frequent bouts of nature's calls.

 

I rode on through the night until sunrise where I elected to stop at Keri Ya at the edge of the Keri Ya River.

 

This 'river', like most of the other water ways here, was scarcely more than a dry wash most of the year.

 

Granted, water flowed and this meant life to all around it, but it was by no means the kind of river one read about in folklore.

 

It was not the Yellow River, prone to flood its banks and wash away homes, pigs and cattle, no, it was a little wash where one could dig and get enough moisture to keep alive for another day.

 

And I did just that.

 

I dug the sand way in a very careful manner, circling a damp area at a distance, then I circled in a little lower but in some more, and eventually in a half watch's time I had a pool deep and wide enough to not only drink my fill but fill up my mare as well.

 

We rested in Keri Ya in a stable for three coppers and the mare casually munched straw near my ear while I tried to sleep a little between her sniffing me as if I might suddenly turn out to be food.

Ep 1, Chapter 7

 

I was awakened by some children playing and giggling, because for a moment I thought I was home and was about to rise up and throw something at them for being in my room when all I could grasp was well trampled hay.

 

Feeling this brought me to my senses and I snapped fully awake and spun my head to look sharply around.

 

The only person in the stable was the kindly old man who ran the place and he was only napping on a stool.

 

Outside the children were scrambling to and fro playing some game which involved chasing one another.

 

I rose quietly and mounted my saddle as stealthily as possible so as to not wake the old man of the stable but either he was only pretending to sleep or he was a very light sleeper.

 

Possibly the noise of the children aroused him.

 

“You're playing a fool's game chasing that one young woman.”

 

“What are you talking about old man?” I asked without stopping.

 

“You have stars in your eyes,” he said in an almost playful tone, seemingly one of relish and worldly desires, “chasing off after princes will only lead you to pain and ruin, mark my words.”

 

“I'm after no prince old man,” I softly scoffed, “I got no use for the likes of such.”

 

“Ohhhhhh?” his old eyes gleamed with mirth, “Do tell! Do tell!”

 

 

“I'm a tracker and a bounty hunter.” I declared.

 

He nodded while almost humming, “Mhmmm, mhmmmm...”

 

“I'm on the trail of Kim Wa Jin,” I finished cinching up the straps, and as I sprang onto my mount, something I normally did not do but was suddenly feeling showy, “I plan to make a name for my self.”

 

“Ohhhh-hoo-hoo!” the old man cooed in bemusement, “Well I bid you well hunting then, famous young huntress of the desert!”

“Save it for those kids out there,” I motioned the children gleefully playing in the street, “I have all the luck I need old man.”

 

“And what shall we come to know you as in the legend we shall hear from Pingyang?”

 

With as much bravado and force as I could muster as I began to ride toward the exit, “They call me White Thorn.” I rumbled as I locked eyes with the old man who suddenly had a look of alarm.

 

It turns out his alarm was that a mounted rider would not easily pass beneath the beam of the door!

 

The children all gathered around giggling and pointing as I awkwardly gathered myself up off the ground where I dangled by one stirrup from my patient mare, head spinning from the double impacts of the beam and the ground.

 

I began to think to my self, “On second thought,” head spinning and ribs aching, “I'm likely to need all the luck I can get!”

 

Ep 1, Chapter 8

 

Despite my protests, I found myself being virtually dragged to the house of the stable master where his wife unceremoniously stripped me down and bathed me.

 

I was in too much pain to protest very loudly because breathing hurt bad enough without trying to actually speak.

 

As two unmarried daughters of the couple came and helped, I was pampered a bit too much and handled far more than I was liking.

 

I could do nothing but groan in humiliation as they proceeded to fuss over my hair, combing and tying. They took a shear and although I tried to resist, they took off a full hand breadth from the end, saying how it needed to be trimmed more evenly.

 

I felt an old fracture popping while all of this was going on and cried out in pain as this old fracture was one from when I was trampled by a stallion as a child which had never healed right and I had never told anybody for fear they would never let me ride again.

The old mother called for the local doctor who took a long look and with some murmuring and nodding to himself, while persistently tugging on his long gray beard finally said, without any great level of inspiration, “This one has a broken bone. She cannot ride.”

 

“Like heeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhh...” my enraged and defiant cry became a gasp.

 

“See you fool?” he said sharply and without pity, “You have spent many years hiding this from your family and now you have broken it totally open!”

 

“But...I...must...” I protested with seemingly no air in my lungs.

 

“You must be bound, medicated and rest up or this bone will be the death of you.” he cut in, “I can see already you are bleeding internally.”

 

“I...I'm...?” I was shocked and stunned at this.

 

“Its amazing you even lived to be fifteen you brash arrogant child.”

 

“How do you?”

 

“Everybody has heard of you.” he curtly responded, “Biggest trouble in all Xinjing province to the mountains of Qinghai.” he was fussing more than actually complaining, but it sounded all the same to me.

 

“I'm not-” I tried to protest.

 

“What you're not,” he pointed at me with a strange medical device that looked like it was meant to measure something while tugging so fiercely on his beard it seemed he would pull it out, “is you're not getting out of bed until I say you are healed.”

 

As the doctor was talking, a young assistant, perhaps in his twenties had slipped up and handed me a cup of hot tea which tasted odd and made my mouth feel numb.

 

Before I realized it, more than a day had passed.

 

Ep 1, Chapter 9

 

When I tried to get out of bed, the first thing I realized was, I literally was bound!

 

There were ropes around my hands, my feet and my neck!

 

On top of that, my entire midsection was wrapped so tightly I could barely manage to breathe if I tried to do so much as bend.

 

“Damn they tricked me, drugged me and now they are holding me prisoner...over nothing but a lousy broken bone!” I remember fuming to myself.

 

“Heyyyyyyyy!” I cried out weakly, “Let me goooooooo!”

 

Finally one of the young women, (I say young, albeit I am assuming they were older than myself, even if put beside me they would probably look younger, not being so weathered as I) came in with a wooden tray with small legs and with a short bow at the doorway, proceeded to come over and lay the tray over my bound up chest and without even warning me, proceeded to scoop porridge at me.

 

I wanted to complain more but I figured if I tried speaking she would scald me and/or drown me with the steaming hot grain mush so I carefully lunged at the spoon to prevent either from happening.

 

I never before thought of my eating as a defensive act, but at the rate this woman was going, if I slowed down even a moment I feared she would simply tip the spoon and return for more.

 

I had to admit, it was rather pleasant tasting, being seasoned with honey and a bit of salt, but still, to be tied up and force fed was more than just a little humiliating!

 

It was also a bit messy because I did not necessarily chew and swallow as fast as she was poking it in me, but she then produced a warm damp towel and blotted my face and neck clean.

 

“There.” the old woman said from the door, “Well fed, so now you can go back to sleep.”

 

“Wait!” I began, suddenly feeling light headed, “I need to...”

 

Episode 1, Chapter 10

 

I was honestly beginning to wonder if my family had sent out a search party for me when a letter came to me by courier.

 

“How the hell would they know to send a letter here?” I asked incredulously.

 

“As the doctor says,” the stablemaster replied, “your reputation precedes you.”

 

“Oh...” I could feel my self blushing, “So what does it say?”

 

The old man donned some ground glass lenses and leaned over toward the sunlight, clearing his throat, “White Thorn,” he began, “You owe me for that mare you stole.”

 

“Whattttttt?” I gaped in shock and protest.

 

“Also I know you took money from the family savings as well.”

 

“I did not!

 

“However, I shall let all of this go,” the old man turned the page, “under one of the following conditions.”

 

“Oh great.” I rolled my eyes in disgust, “Here's where we know he's a horse trader!”

 

“One, You bring all of the missing items, plus any foals the mare throws, two, you capture this notorious criminal you think you are going to find, three, you get married, in which case the mare and the money can be your dowry, or four, you never come back. (signed) Pang”

 

I was in such utter shock and disbelief, I had the most horrible sinking feeling as I slumped back into the bed.

 

“P.S.” the stablemaster continued, “Ying sends you her love, some dried fruits and a flower she drew for you. P”

 

“That crazy son of a...” I thought to my self in utter astonishment.