It was past dinner time when Chinua, her subordinates, and the fleeing villagers arrived at Lao-Da Village. By then, most of the local villagers had fallen asleep. Lights were out in most houses, though scattered ones still had lights on.
Since Chinua had only been in the village for a short period, she didn't know who the chief was or even if there was one. Therefore, she and her men didn't lead the fleeing villagers into the center but instead took them to the military training camp.
When Chinua and her men arrived at the military training camp, they found that Taban had not yet made his way to Lao-Da Pass. After waiting for half an hour, he led three soldiers out of the camp.
"I thought you went to Tanggolia," Taban said with a smile.
Chinua smiled back. "Apparently, my crew and I aren't welcome there," she replied.
Taban looked from her to the group of villagers. "Why did you bring so many people?" he asked.
"They're villagers fleeing the flood in the southwest," Chinua explained. "Others went north. We met these when we were on our way here. Since they didn't know the way and we were heading here anyway, we volunteered to lead them." She looked at Taban, then at the villagers, before moving closer to him. "Tell me, you do have room here for them, right?"
"There's land, but no houses," Taban said, exhaling. "But the ones here are simple. I think the soldiers and villagers can help." He walked towards the waiting group. "Tell me how many families there are. We don't have houses built yet, but you see, they're very simple, just four walls and a roof. Your people and mine can build them together."
Cong walked up to Taban. "There are sixty-five of us," he said, "twelve families in total."
Taban nodded. "I'll ask the soldiers to bring some food," he replied. "The village chief will come out to greet you tomorrow. He'll take you to find land."
As soon as Taban finished speaking, a soldier rushed over on horseback. He dismounted and said, "Captain... Madam Mongke is in labor, and the General hasn't returned yet."
Chinua grabbed the horse's rope from the soldier. She jumped onto its back, stretched out a hand to Hye, and pulled him up behind her. "Captain, I leave these villagers in your care," she told Taban, whipping the horse into a gallop. They disappeared into the night.
"Captain, there's nothing more we can do here tonight," Khunbish told Taban. "If you need anything tomorrow, please send for us."
Taban smiled. "Go on and rest," he said. "I'll have my soldiers come help the villagers. Do you still remember the way to General Mönkhbat's house?"
Khunbish nodded.
Taban watched the six men walk away. He scratched his head. "Something feels missing from that group," he muttered to himself, "but I can't quite place it."
Cong approached him. "Captain," he asked, "those soldiers said they weren't of the Southern General, so are they his friends instead?"
Taban looked at Cong. "Why do you ask?"
"They left in a hurry," Cong explained, "and I didn't get to thank them properly."
Taban laughed. "You'll still have time," he said. "They'll stay here for a while. The reason they're here is because your people wanted to thank them properly for finding water for us."
"What are their names?" Cong asked.
"The two tall, big ones are brothers, Jeet and Naksh," Taban replied. "The blond one... I can't recall his name. The other three are Khunbish, Khenbish, and Zhi."
"What about the two on horseback?" Cong pressed.
Taban broke into laughter again. "Oh! The one in back is Hye," he said, "and the other is Chinua. They're all good people. You were lucky to come across them."
The galloping horse stopped in front of Mönkhbat's house. Chinua dismounted and ran inside, leaving Hye still on the horse. She went straight to the master bedroom. There, she found Heng and Delbee kneeling next to Amgalan, who was lying on a straw mat.
Chinua walked to the straw mat and knelt beside the pale Amgalan. "Sister-in-law, how are you feeling?" she asked.
Although Amgalan's face was bloodless and her lips were pale, she still smiled warmly. "Chinua, I'm fine," she replied. "I didn't know you'd be here so soon."
Chinua looked around. "Where's the baby?" she asked.
"The baby's fine," Heng answered. "Zamir took him out to wash up and asked the sister-in-law next door to feed him before bringing him back." He looked at Amgalan. "He was born earlier than expected, but he seems healthy. You don't have anything to worry about, Sister. Just rest and eat well. You'll have milk in a few days."
"Is the baby a prince or a princess?" Chinua asked.
Amgalan smiled politely. "Your Highness," she said, "the baby is a boy."
Chinua suddenly realized they weren't in the palace, and Mönkhbat no longer considered himself a prince since leaving it. Smiling, she asked, "Has the Third Brother given him a name yet?"
Amgalan shook her head.
Zamir walked in with the baby. "Doctor Heng," he reported, "he was able to eat."
Heng sighed, then smiled. "That's good."
Chinua walked to Zamir. "I want to hold him," she said. Zamir handed the baby to her. Chinua held him, noting how small he was. "He's little, but I know he'll grow up as strong as his dad. Bold is the perfect name for you."
Heng turned to them. "The father names the baby," he joked, looking at Chinua. "What rights do you have?"
Chinua looked at the baby, a smile on her face. "Bold," she murmured, "it suits you so well. When you grow up, you'll be like your father, strong as steel, protecting our southern border." She looked up at Amgalan. "Sister-in-law, would you consider the name?"
Amgalan smiled. "I'll share your opinion with my husband," she said.
Chinua smiled back at the baby. "I don't care what your father names you," she told him. "But I'll call you Bold."
Heng looked at Chinua. "Let's go out and enjoy baby time," he suggested. "Delbee will clean Sister-in-law Amgalan." He turned to Delbee. "If you need help," he added, "let us know. We're right outside the door."
Chinua walked into the living room from the bedroom. Hye sat at the table; her subordinates had just arrived. Holding Bold in her arms, she rushed towards them. "Hey!" she shouted happily. "Come see my nephew!"
Drystan stared at the tiny baby. "Ah... keep him away from me," he said, backing away. "I'm afraid of newborns. They're as soft as mice." He shook his head.
"Oh," Naksh piped up, "does that mean you're afraid of mice?" "I didn't say that!"
"I didn't say that!" Drystan protested.
"I heard clearly," Jeet said, laughing heartily, "that a big shot like you, who kills without blinking an eye, is actually afraid of mice..."
Drystan stood up. "Hey!" he protested. "Everyone's afraid of something. I'm sure each of you has a fear. Tell me what it is. Tell me!" He grabbed Naksh's arm.
"Well," Naksh began, "I guess my biggest fear is not having enough to eat. As kids, we always struggled. So, I promised myself I'd eat before bed for the rest of my life."
Drystan looked at Jeet and asked, "And you?"
Jeet thought for a moment. "Let me see..." he mused. "A tiger, I suppose. They can tear people into pieces." He turned to Zhi. "Your turn. We've all said something."
"I'm most afraid of failing to provide for my family," Zhi said
"Khenbish is afraid of teeth," Chinua said with a smile. "If he sees them, he'll feel sick and vomit."
The men laughed.
"Khunbish..." Chinua paused, thinking. He was too reserved; she didn't know his fears. "Well," she speculated, "I guess he's most afraid of me..." "As for myself," she added, "I'm brave and have nothing to be afraid of."
Hye knew it was his turn. He looked at the men. "Well," he said, "just like Chinua, I have nothing to fear, not even death. You saw it yourselves."
"Liar!" Drystan scoffed, leaning closer. "You must be afraid of something."
Hye put up a hand. "Fine... fine, fine..." he relented. "I'm afraid of failure. I'm a perfectionist, you see. Failure is my greatest fear." He looked at Drystan. "At least," he added, trying not to laugh, "I'm not afraid of something as small as a mouse."
"Teeth are smaller than mice!" Drystan protested.
Khenbish challenged, "If teeth are smaller, then are you willing to eat one? Because I'd be willing to eat a mouse."
Hye watched the men grimace in disgust. He took two steps away from the group, who were still caught up in their conversation about fears. He kept a smile fixed on his face, pretending to share their amusement. But deep down, he knew the fears they spoke of were nothing compared to the dread that coiled within him. His smile didn't reach his eyes; they seemed to stare into emptiness. Drystan was right, he realized: fear truly comes in all shapes and sizes. Yet, his own, he thought, felt like standing before the gate of hell.