Jeff Stone_Five Ancestors 04

by Crane

  Behind Mong was the gigantic, hairy bandit called Hung, or Bear, carrying a huge pair of golden melon hammers. The group also included the iron-body kung fu bandit with dirty, stubby limbs whose name was NgGung, or Centipede; the crazy, big-nosed, floppy-eared bandit called Gao, or Dog; and a beefy man with a scraggly beard and long, matted hair that Tonglong recognized as a famous drifter often called The Drunkard, but whose real name was rumored to be Sanfu, or Mountain Tiger.

  They were a formidable force, to be sure, but Tonglong had a hundred armed men on shore and twenty loaded qiangs in his boat. Tonglong knew he had the upper hand.

  “Don't give up that scroll!” Mong shouted to Seh over the cries of the fleeing crowd.

  Seh turned back to the river and looked at Tonglong. “I didn't plan to,” he shouted.

  You had your chance, little brother, Tonglong thought. Goodbye. He tucked his long ponytail braid into his sash and raised one arm high, then let it drop.

  “FIRE!”

  Shots rang out overhead as Hok retreated from the waterfront hand in hand with GongJee. Their mother was beside them, as were Charles, Fu, and Seh. Unfortunately, Malao was not with them.

  As they rushed into Kaifeng's narrow streets, away from the soldiers’ qiangs, Hok glanced at the five men with strange but familiar animal names surrounding them. These men had risked their lives to help keep Tonglong's soldiers at bay. Bear had been shot in the arm, and another qiang ball had grazed Mountain Tiger's cheek. Both men were bleeding heavily, but they remained in a protective circle around Hok and the others, even now. These men were warriors, and they had very likely just saved her life, as well as the lives of GongJee and Charles, not to mention her brothers.

  Warning bells rang out from the city's central bell tower, and people everywhere began to scramble to lock themselves inside their homes and storefronts. Hok was grateful because it meant they could put even more distance between themselves and the soldiers on their trail.

  In order to run better, Hok had abandoned her sling and turban back at the waterfront, and Charles had stripped himself of his costume. However, Charles was grumbling about having been caught without his qiangs. They were still back at the camp.

  Hok felt that none of them were in a position to grumble. She was just thankful to be alive. She hoped Malao was as lucky.

  It seemed Fu couldn't stop thinking about Malao, either.

  “We have to help Malao!” Fu complained. “Didn't you see what happened to him? We need to go back!”

  “We saw what happened to your little brother,” Bing said to Fu. “AnGangseh, Tonglong, and HaMo captured him. We'll discuss this at the safe house. We're almost there.”

  The group soon slowed down and Mong stopped in front of a small shop. There was no sign on the building. The only thing that set it apart from the other buildings on the street was a small metal phoenix in the center of the door, painted green.

  Mong banged on the door three times. A moment later, the phoenix rotated up and Hok saw a concerned eye quickly scan their group.

  “Come in, come in!” a woman said in a hurried, muffled voice from the other side of the door.

  Hok heard several locks disengage, and the door swung open. The group rushed inside without a word. As the woman relocked the door, Hok glanced around.

  The dark, dusty room was a ramshackle dining hall. Ten small tables were randomly positioned around the space, paired with broken, mismatched chairs. The place was a mess.

  “I am so glad you all made it back here in one piece, and that you've brought friends,” the woman said as she straightened up. “The war bells are ringing and … oh, sorry. Where are my manners? My name is Yuen. Welcome to the Jade Phoenix.” She bowed to Hok.

  Hok bowed back.

  “We don't have time for formalities,” Mong said. “I am sorry. May we take shelter here? I must warn you, though, there is a chance we are being followed. Hung and Sanfu may have left a bit of a blood trail.”

  Yuen glanced quickly at Sanfu clutching his face and Hung gripping one arm. “Oh, dear!” she said. “Let's get you upstairs. All of you. The room above the kitchen is the safest place. It will be cramped, but you can come down after nightfall. I'll see what I can do about the blood trail once you're safely hidden.”

  “Thank you,” Mong said. He headed for a tattered curtain at the back of the room, and the group followed.

  Hok found herself pushed into a small kitchen with the others. Yuen pointed to the far corner, and Hok saw a rope ladder leading up into a hole in the wood-paneled ceiling. “Up you go,” Yuen said.

  Hok watched Bing climb the rope ladder first with GongJee, followed by Charles. Fu and Seh went next. As each one grabbed the sections of rope, Hok couldn't help but think of Malao tied up somewhere.

  Mong was standing next to Hok. She tapped him on the arm.

  “Excuse me,” Hok said. “Shouldn't we do something about our brother Malao as soon as possible? I mean, wouldn't our chances of helping him be better if we acted quickly?”

  “Perhaps,” Mong said. “But we must put the safety of the group first. We will develop a plan to help Malao as soon as possible. In the meantime, I don't think you should worry too much. I saw what happened, and I suspect the kidnappers intend to trade him for something Seh carries. The woman who knocked Malao unconscious—AnGangseh—could have easily killed him. Believe me, they will contact us.”

  “But how are they going to contact us if we are hiding?” Hok asked. “Maybe a few of us should try and rescue him. I'll volunteer.”

  Mong folded his enormous arms. “Tonglong will figure out a way to get a message to us. As for a rescue attempt, we have no way of knowing where they are taking Malao. Tonglong has no relationships with anyone outside of his own circle that we can exploit.”

  NgGung cleared his throat. “Um, Boss? What about Ying?”

  “What about him?” Mong asked. “He's in prison.”

  “That's right,” NgGung said. “The prison is only a few streets due east of here. Perhaps we could go see him and find out if he has any idea where Tonglong might have taken Malao. We'd have to make it worth his while, of course. Maybe we could offer him something?”

  “From what I know about Ying,” Mong said, “the only thing he would accept in exchange for helping anybody is his freedom, or possibly Tonglong's head. Unless you are prepared to offer him one of those, I doubt he'd comply.”

  “Can't we try?” Hok asked. She looked at NgGung. “Do you think I could sneak in there?”

  NgGung stroked his long, thin mustache. “You'd have to break in, and the prison is heavily fortified with the Emperor's personal guard. Hmmm … If you were going to attempt it, tonight would be the night to do it. The Emperor is scheduled to lead the dragon boat festivities this evening, and he is sure to bring most of his protectors with him after this incident at the riverfront. Plus, there will be fireworks, which are always a great distraction. I've never seen a guard who didn't leave his post to watch fireworks.”

  “No one is breaking in anywhere,” Mong said. “The risk is not worth the payoff, assuming there would even be a payoff. We will wait for word from Tonglong about Malao. That is all. Everyone, upstairs. We need to disappear.”

  NgGung looked at Hok and shrugged. “I tried.”

  Hok nodded her thanks.

  The men began to climb the rope ladder, and Hok shifted from foot to foot. She still couldn't see herself hiding at a time like this.

  Yuen looked at her. “Are you okay? You seem anxious.”

  “I'm fine,” Hok replied. “I just don't want to climb up there just yet.”

  “I understand,” Yuen said. “I don't like tight spaces, either. If you don't mind hiding alone, I can show you a different place.”

  Hok thought about it a moment. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

  Mong was on his way up the rope ladder, and he turned to Hok. “I'll let your mother know where you're going. We'll see you in a few hours.”

  �
��Thanks,” Hok replied.

  “Come with me,” Yuen said. She slipped through the tattered curtain, back into the main dining area, and Hok followed. They were halfway across the dining room when someone began to pound vigorously on the front door.

  “IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR, OPEN UP!”

  Hok's eyes widened and Yuen scowled. “Soldiers!” Yuen whispered. “Upstairs, quickly! There is no time to hide anywhere else. I'll get rid of them.”

  Hok raced back through the curtain into the kitchen—and froze. The rope ladder was being pulled up into the ceiling. She was about to call out softly when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. It was a small open window.

  Hok glanced at the rope ladder rising higher and higher, and she thought of Malao again. If she was going to try to do something to help him, this might be her only chance.

  Hok ran to the window and hopped onto the sill. She saw an empty alley outside with an easy jump to the ground. She looked back over her shoulder as a wooden panel in the ceiling began to swing closed. Beyond the tattered curtain, Hok heard the front door open.

  Hok took a deep breath and sailed out the window.

  Less than a quarter of an hour after leaving the Jade Phoenix, Hok found herself taking refuge in the overhanging roof rafters of the prison itself, waiting for the sun to go down. She was surprised how easily she'd found it. Like NgGung had said, it was just a few streets due east of the Jade Phoenix.

  Fortunately for her, few people passed down the narrow street along this side of the prison, and the few who did did not look up into the eaves. As the sun began to set several hours later, however, everything changed.

  Fireworks exploded in the direction of the river, and everyone started looking up. Hok heard people begin to cheer, and the small number of residents who weren't already at the riverfront raced out of their homes and shops to catch the display. Hok even caught a glimpse of two men who looked like prison guards racing along at an angle that left Hok certain they had come from the prison's front doors along the main street.

  Hok decided to make her move. She soared down from her perch and landed in a silent roll, protecting her injured arm, then hopped to her feet. She ran along the side of the prison to the front of the building and poked her head around the corner. The main street was empty. She waited for a few moments, but didn't see any guards at the entrance.

  Hok decided that the most obvious route might also be the best one. She headed for the prison's main doors. They were unlocked. She glided inside and drifted silently through the lantern-lit entry, keeping her body pressed tightly against one wall. Hok felt completely alone. She wondered if Ying was even there.

  Hok turned the room's first corner and choked back a startled cough. In front of her was a single large cell with iron bars for a front wall and stone everywhere else. Inside it was Ying. She barely recognized her sixteen-year-old former brother.

  Ying lay in the back corner, curled into a ball. His carved face had been beaten to a bloody pulp, and his eyes were almost swollen shut. He breathed through his mouth like a sick animal, wheezing loudly every time he inhaled or exhaled. His forked tongue hung out of his mouth like a dog's, lying over his pointed teeth. Ying looked like he had lost at least one-third of his body weight, perhaps more. Hok had never seen someone in such condition. He had been beaten to the very verge of death.

  Based on the sound of Ying's breathing, Hok could tell that one of his lungs had been punctured, probably by a broken rib. Every breath Ying took would be utter agony. If left untreated, he would surely die a long, slow death. Someone wanted to make him suffer.

  While Ying was a horrible person, Hok didn't want to see anyone have to suffer like that.

  Ying seemed to sense her presence and looked up. Even through his swollen face he managed to see her. Or perhaps he sensed her chi. Either way, his scabbed lips twisted into a grotesque scowl. He forced himself to wheeze two words: “Go … away.”

  Hok shook her head. She approached the cell's iron bars. “I need your help.”

  Ying wheezed loudly several times in rapid succession. Hok realized that he was laughing. “Look at … me. What could I do … for you? What could you possibly do … for me?”

  Hok stared at Ying's broken body. He didn't look like he would survive long without some sort of treatment. It gave her an idea.

  “Malao has been kidnapped by Tonglong,” Hok said. “I'm hoping you might have some idea where they took him. In return, I will prepare healing tonics for you and sneak them in here.”

  Ying slowly shook his head. “No …,” he wheezed. “I want out. … Get me out … and I will help you…. You have … my word.”

  Hok blinked. Break him out of prison? While the last thing she wanted was Ying on the loose, she had a strong feeling he wouldn't be able to go very far. He would most likely get recaptured. Even if he wasn't caught, he could very well die from the strain of being on the run. If he remained here, though, he would surely die. As much as she disliked Ying, she wasn't sure she could leave him to that certainty. It seemed to Hok that breaking Ying out might be the best option.

  Hok stared, unblinking, at Ying. “I agree to your terms. How do I get you out of here?”

  Ying nodded behind her.

  Hok spun around, and froze. A man stood between her and the prison's main entrance. In his hand was a single key. “I have an idea,” the man purred. “You could use this to get Ying out of his nest.”

  It was Tsung. She should have guessed Ying wouldn't have been left alone.

  Hok knew to be ready for anything. She took several steps forward, putting space between the front of Ying's cell and her back. The last thing she wanted was to be pinned against something by Tsung.

  “I see you are coming to meet me in the middle of the dance floor,” Tsung said. “Such a forward young lady you are. Are you sure you want to do this? You'll need two good arms to swing with me, you know.” He flashed a big toothy grin.

  Hok didn't reply. She lowered herself into a wide defensive stance, her good arm held out in front of her, her bad one tucked tight to her body. She wanted him to come at her.

  Tsung bowed, low and deep. “Let the dance begin.” He dropped the key and sprang at Hok's neck.

  Hok was ready. As soon as she saw Tsung leave the ground, she dropped flat onto her back and kicked one leg straight up into the air. Her foot sank deep into Tsung's stomach as he sailed over her.

  Tsung groaned as his midsection molded itself around Hok's heel. Hok used Tsung's forward momentum to help slam her leg to the ground, and Tsung went with it. He hit the stone floor with a solid THUD!

  Tsung cursed and Hok tried to pull her leg away, but Tsung was too quick. He grabbed her foot and tucked it under his armpit, and in one smooth motion he locked both his hands around her heel and leaned back hard.

  Intense pain shot through Hok's ankle. Tsung had her in some sort of heel lock. Tsung began to twist to one side, and Hok's misery was magnified tenfold.

  Unsure of what to do, Hok rolled her body in the direction of Tsung's twist. She felt the pressure on her heel subside, but only for a moment.

  Tsung righted himself, then twisted again in the same direction, more powerfully this time. Again, Hok twisted with him.

  While the pressure on her heel subsided the second time, too, Hok felt the sinews in her ankle begin to weaken. If Tsung kept this up, they would snap just like the ones in her elbow nearly had.

  Hok sensed Tsung winding up for a third twist when Ying managed to wheeze out loud, “Twist double-time, Hok!”

  Tsung unleashed a mighty twist, wrenching his body around one hundred and eighty degrees. Out of options, Hok followed Ying's instructions. She twisted her body around three hundred and sixty degrees in the same direction as Tsung's twist.

  It worked. Tsung couldn't maintain a firm grip on her spinning foot and she felt the pressure on her heel subside.

  Ying wheezed out loud, “Crane Spins the Legs!”

  Hok s
pun her free leg in a powerful arc and brought that heel crashing down onto Tsung's temple.

  Tsung's body went limp, unconscious, and Hok jerked her foot free. She wondered where Ying had learned to counter a move like that. It certainly wasn't at Cangzhen.

  Hok stood and looked at Ying.

  Ying had managed to sit upright. He had his arms wrapped around his sides, his chest heaving. Hok realized he was chuckling. “Rescued by … an ax kick … from a girl … named Peaceful!” Ying wheezed. “Ha-ha-ha!”

  Hok glared at him. “How do you know my given name?”

  “I was … seven years old … when you came to … Cangzhen,” Ying wheezed. “Sometimes I … spied on … Grandmaster.” He shrugged slightly and appeared to attempt a grin.

  Hok frowned.

  “I had … a different name … too,” Ying wheezed. “Saulong … Vengeful Dragon! … I see … you are … no longer … living up to … your name. … Let's see … if I can … live up to … mine.” He nodded toward the center of the room.

  Hok turned and saw the key on the floor. She heard Ying begin to struggle to his feet.

  Hok bit her lip, then scooped up the key. She hurried over to the cell door and opened it. She had to remember, she was doing this for Malao.

  Ying stumbled forward and leaned on Hok's shoulder. “I'll talk … as we walk.”

  Hok put one arm around Ying's bony shoulders. He felt like a skeleton.

  “We'll go … out the back door,” Ying wheezed. He nodded toward Tsung's unconscious body. “Take me … to him first.”

  “No—” Hok began.

  “Do it!” Ying hissed. “Look at … his sash.”

  Hok glanced at Tsung and saw that he wasn't wearing a sash at all. Instead, a chain whip was wrapped around his waist.

  “I'll get it,” Hok said. She gently leaned Ying against the wall for support and released him.

  Ying spat on the ground. “I suggest you … kill him…. He will … seek revenge.”

  “No,” Hok replied. “I'm not leaving you to die in his hands, and he's not going to die, either.” She retrieved the chain whip and looped it around Ying's neck. “Let's get moving so we can—”