The Mongols
Jonathan Brockwell,
ut!”
“
Ou
I gr
The
shel
Group 1: Fiction, Harrow International School Hong Kong
t!” shouts my father.
ab my blanket.
wind only blows softly, but it is very cold outside the tent. I look for some
ter.
I pick my way among the building materials to the nearest army tent. The soldiers are sitting
around their fire.
“
O
“
Excuse me, brave soldiers of the Emperors’ great army, can I stay with you?”
“
NO!”
“
No children in the army camp!”
“
Especially kids who throw rocks on our Captain’s head!”
They all laugh.
Our section of the wall is nearly finished, and looms in the moonlight. I trudge to the base and try
to find somewhere out of the wind to sleep. I lie down in a hollow and pull the thin blanket over me.
The ground is hard and cold.
I try to sleep, but I am so angry – it wasn’t my fault my basket of rocks fell. It wasn’t my fault a
rock fell on the captain’s head….
I wake up, shivering uncontrollably.
It is raining. I am lying in a puddle. My blanket is soaked.
It is completely dark. Clouds cover the moon.
Should I go back to my family’s tent?
My father will kill me! We are to be banished for my ‘attack’ on the captain.
I get up.
Maybe there will be better shelter on the other side of the wall?
But that’s enemy territory!
I climb up on to the top of the wall and look North.
It is completely dark.
The clouds break and the moon shines through.
I see something in the distance. I’m not sure what it is.
Should I warn the sentry?
The clouds cover the moon.
I look for the sentry. He’s not at his post.
The clouds break again. There is something moving.
Mongols! Hundreds of them!
“
The Mongols are coming!”
“
THE MONGOLS ARE COMING!!!”
Nobody hears me.
My spilled basket of rocks.
I pick a large rock and throw it into the army camp.
Thud.
“
Uh.”
Another rock.
Thud.
“
OW!!”
More rocks.
“
OW! What’s going on? Who’s throwing rocks!?”
“
THE MONGOLS ARE COMING!”
This time they hear me.
Hooves! The Mongols are galloping at us!
Frightened soldiers form up on top of the wall and draw their bows.
I light the sentry’s beacon. The flames roar into the sky.
The Mongols see the soldiers in the light of the beacon.
The Mongol leader holds up his arm, and his army slides to a stop.
We stare at each other in the moonlight.
A thousand Mongol warriors on horseback. Fifty of the Emperor’s archers atop a half-finished
wall.