by Eagle
Outside of the locks, Ying and Hok traveled mostly at night, sharing the duties of rowing with the skiff's oar. One would row while the other slept.
During the day, they would try to find an uninhabited bank near a village where Hok could shop. While she hadn't found any dragon bone, she'd found plenty of other things to purchase. Beyond necessities such as food, Hok had replaced the herb bag that she'd lost in the fight club fire and was slowly filling it, village by village. She complained about the poor selection and inferior quality of most of the herbs, though. She especially complained about the high taxes.
Hok told Ying that the Emperor had placed a heavy tax on all medicinal herbs, so people had begun to purchase their herbs from black-market dealers, who sold items without tax. Legitimate herb vendors— who also happened to be trained doctors—were stocking fewer and fewer items, and what they had on their shelves tended to be old. Hok disliked the black-market vendors because most of them didn't have the slightest clue how the different herbs should be used, but she quickly found she had no choice but to buy from them.
Hok told Ying that if they could remain in any given village for two or three days, the vendors prom ised they could get her most any item she desired, including dragon bone. The black-market vendors in every village were part of the same vast network that had runners carrying items between the villages and larger cities daily. Ying and Hok discussed this and decided that waiting that long in any one place was not an option.
Rather than wasting time while Hok shopped, Ying was keeping himself as busy as his recovering body would allow. Hok had recently purchased a small tarp, and he had just finished rigging it up with branches and rope to create a large canopy over the front half of the skiff. The canopy would block the late-summer sun, as well as the occasional raindrops. It would also provide some protection from the prying eyes of soldiers, who often perched atop bridges along the canal, peering into boats as they passed beneath them.
Ying heard someone approaching, and he quickly adjusted the black silk scarf over his face. He stared upstream, his eyes straining in the dim evening light. He couldn't see very well, so he stood and accidentally bumped his head on the canopy frame.
A moment later, Hok appeared with her herb bag slung over her shoulder. She was wearing a new green dress and matching turban.
Ying relaxed.
“The boat looks different,” Hok said. “I like the canopy. Nice work.”
“It will take some getting used to,” Ying replied, rubbing his head. He pointed to the sides of the skiff. “I also scuffed up the exterior and added a few scratches and gouges. This skiff was too well cared for. Tonglong and his men will never recognize it now.”
Hok nodded.
Ying looked Hok's outfit over. “You look different, too. Good idea buying those clothes.”
“Thank you,” Hok said.
“No luck finding dragon bone?” Ying asked.
Hok shook her head. “It's the strangest thing. Was it always this difficult to locate?”
“Sometimes,” Ying said. “Especially in these small villages. Few people can afford it, so few vendors carry it.”
“Maybe we should just forget about the dragon bone,” Hok suggested.
“Not on your life,” Ying replied.
Ying knew that Hok wasn't convinced the small amount of dragon bone they did carry was helping him, but even she could not refute his faster-than-normal healing rate. The herbs she'd been applying to his wounds were certainly part of it, but it seemed something more was helping him quickly regain his strength. Perhaps it was all the extra rest he was getting. Regardless of the reason, in a few days Ying would be more or less back in fighting shape.
Ying thought about the next big city they would come to, the city of Xuzhou. It was located about one-third of the way between the Yellow River and the very end of the Grand Canal at Hangzhou. Xuzhou was where he had had his face carved. The dragon bone he'd carried for much of the past year had come from a vendor in Xuzhou, too. Ying was fairly certain he could find the man again. At the rate they were going, they would be there in four days. He was anxious to get there.
“We should get moving,” Ying said.
“I agree,” Hok replied. “Let's shove off.”
Hok leaned forward to climb into the skiff, and
Ying noticed a green jade crane dangling from a silk thread around her neck. He pointed to it. “You had that in your hand when you escaped the fight club, didn't you?”
“Yes,” Hok said.
“Where did you get it?”
“I took it back from General Tsung while we were fighting.”
“I mean, where did you get it originally?”
Hok climbed into the skiff and looked away. “I'd rather not talk about it.”
“No?” Ying asked, curious. “Not even a little?”
“No.”
Ying decided to let it go. He and Hok had traveled in relative silence the entire time. No reason to go and ruin a good thing by asking her a bunch of questions.
Ying jumped out of the skiff onto the bank and gave the boat a big push to free it from the mud. He scrambled back aboard, and they set a course south down the Grand Canal, toward Xuzhou.
Hok took the first shift working the oar. Once they reached the center of the canal, she lashed it in place and let the canal's gentle current carry them downstream. She went over to Ying's side and began to silently rewrap the dressing on his injured shoulder.
Ying watched Hok work. The more she helped him, the less he thought about getting rid of her. She had had plenty of opportunities to take his life, or simply let his life slip away, but she hadn't done so. If she wasn't a threat, perhaps he should just let her remain with him. Of all his former brothers, it seemed it was his sister who might understand him most. It made sense, because she had grown up an outsider, too. First as a girl pretending to be a boy, and now as the pale-skinned, brown-haired daughter of a Chinese woman and a round eye.
Ying looked away. It seemed there were now round eyes everywhere, especially in the large cities. The foreigners brought trade, and trade brought money.
Ying couldn't help but think about Tonglong. Tong long had a taste for life's finer things and had al ways admired people with money. Ying had seen it firsthand. Ying recalled how upset Tonglong had been about his burning the map. Ying had never dreamed that Tonglong might have been interested in the dragon scrolls from the very beginning, maybe even before they attacked Cangzhen Temple. Ying had wanted the scrolls so that he could learn dragon-style kung fu. Tonglong had wanted them for other reasons.
Ying assumed that Tonglong must have heard the rumors that floated around the fight clubs about a secret dragon scroll map that led to a dragon's hoard of treasure. Most people assumed that it was a bottomless pile of gold and jewels, but those with more intimate knowledge knew that it was so much more. Beyond an impressive collection of precious metal and stones was supposedly something far more valuable. It was said that the treasure also included four legendary white jade swords and a set of white jade armor. Whoever wielded one of the four swords and also wore the armor was believed to be the rightful heir to the Emperor's throne.
Ying was certain his former brothers and sister knew nothing of these rumors surrounding the dragon scroll map. Otherwise, they would never have shown it to him. While Ying was upset that the remaining dragon training scrolls seemed to be out of his reach, he was hopeful that the treasure would somehow bring him closer to his inner dragon. With the map burned in his memory, all he needed was time to collect it.
An image of Charles suddenly flashed into Ying's mind. Ying wondered how much time would pass before the round eye took action. Charles didn't seem to be the type to sit around long. Without word from Hok, Charles would go looking for her. He probably had a boat and, based on what Ying had seen back at the safe house, he had a lot of friends.
Ying would have to keep an eye out for Charles and any other foreigner. It would be bad enough if Ying
accidentally led Tonglong to the treasure. It would be unthinkable for him to lead a foreigner to it.
Charles boarded his sleek sloop behind PawPaw's house, wondering what he was about to get himself into. He set down the last box of supplies beneath the vessel's single mast and stared at the shadow his wide shoulders cast across the deck in the light of the brilliant full moon.
Hok had been gone an entire week, and they hadn't heard a word from her. It was time to take matters into his own hands.
Up the hill, Charles could hear Fu, Malao, and Seh inside PawPaw's house, celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival. They were eating moon cakes and laughing as PawPaw sang high-pitched, nasally songs and played some sort of traditional stringed instrument that sounded like cats shrieking.
According to Charles’ calendar, it was the middle of September, and back in Holland people would be celebrating this Harvest Moon any number of ways. He didn't feel like celebrating anything, though. Not only was Hok missing, he had never quite fit in since bringing Fu, Malao, and Seh here after Tong-long's attack in Jinan. PawPaw was very gracious and he got along just fine with her, but the others hadn't accepted him. They told him that he should have remained with his “foreign” friends back in Jinan.
Charles glanced at the simple Chinese peasant's robe and pants he'd been wearing for weeks. He did look rather silly in them. It was what the locals wore. He didn't enjoy dressing this way; it was simply all he had been able to acquire. He longed to put on a normal shirt and pants. The rough cotton and heavy seams of this robe had rubbed his armpits raw. The only good part about the outfit was the large pocket that formed where the rigid robe cloth met the tight waist sash. It provided him with a place to keep his matching pistols, or “short qiangs,” as the Chinese called them.
PawPaw's music stopped suddenly, and Charles looked toward the house. He heard Fu growl, low and deep, and then Malao shrieked so sharply it made Charles’ yellow hair stand on end. Something wasn't right.
Charles raced up the hill, pulling one of his flintlock pistols from the folds of his robe. He circled around to the front of the house and found the door closed. Usually, it was wide open.
Malao shrieked again.
Without breaking stride, Charles slammed his shoulder into the weathered front door, tearing it from the hinges. The door crashed inward onto the floor, and Charles stumbled in after it. The toe of his boot caught on a piece of splintered doorjamb, and he felt himself hurling toward the floor.
Charles tucked into a tight roll and popped to his feet in one fluid motion. He had performed this roll thousands of times while lion dancing. Instinctively, Charles leveled his pistol, and he found himself aiming at the head of one of the strangest men he'd ever seen. The man had a long torso and curiously short arms and legs. He also had a long, thin mustache that stretched almost to his chest. His nose looked as if it had been beaten flat with an anvil, and he was covered with dirt from head to toe.
Oddest of all was that Charles thought he recognized the man.
“Charles,” Seh said, looking in his general direction, “you remember NgGung, don't you? You met him briefly in Kaifeng.”
“Centipede,” Charles said, lowering his pistol. “Of course, you're one of the bandits. You helped us escape Tonglong's attack during the Dragon Boat Festival. Good to see you again.” Charles bowed low, first to NgGung, then to PawPaw. “I am so very sorry. I thought—”
PawPaw laughed. “No need to apologize, Charles. You thought we were in trouble. I might have thought the same thing after those little outbursts you heard.” She shook a finger at NgGung. “Our guest here likes to play games. One of his favorites is to sneak into friends’ homes and see how long it takes before someone notices him. He didn't get very far this evening with a tiger, a monkey, and a snake keeping me company!”
NgGung shrugged. “You can't blame a guy for trying.”
Malao giggled.
NgGung grinned a toothless grin and glanced at Fu, Malao, and Seh. “Excellent work, by the way. An intruder would never get past you three.” He stroked his thin, dirty mustache and turned to Charles. “You, on the other hand, my friend, could use a bit of practice in the subtle art of stealthy entry. I do applaud your style, though. It was quite dramatic.”
Malao giggled again.
“Uh, thanks,” Charles said. “I think.” He returned the pistol to the folds of his robe. “So, what are you doing here, NgGung?”
“PawPaw and I have been friends forever,” NgGung replied. “I heard a bit of news I thought she might find interesting. I am sure you will, too.”
“Hok?” Seh asked.
“That's right,” NgGung said. “I've just come from Jinan, where I spoke with a black-market ringleader called HukJee. It seems he is being forced to track Hok for Tonglong.”
“I don't understand,” Charles said. “If HukJee is working for Tonglong, why would he tell you about it?”
“HukJee is an old friend, too,” NgGung said. “He and I do business often. He runs a huge network of black-market vendors who deal in all manner of goods, but they also buy and sell information. They have an elaborate system of runners, who are on the move day and night, keeping the items and information flowing continuously. I am in the in formation business, too, you know, and HukJee and I trade information like other people trade goods or services. He is a good man, and he doesn't like Tonglong. He told me the details out of frus tration.”
“Is Hok okay?” Charles asked.
“Perfectly fine, as near as I can tell,” NgGung said. “She probably doesn't know she's being tracked, though.”
“How is she being tracked?” PawPaw asked.
“Through her shopping habits,” NgGung replied. “Hok and Ying have been traveling down the Grand Canal together, searching for dragon bone.”
“She's with Ying?” Fu said. “Wait until I get my hands on him—”
“It might not be what you think,” NgGung said. “They appear to be working together. Or more likely, Hok is helping Ying. It seems Ying bides his time lying low in their skiff while Hok shops. Unfortunately, all the vendors in this region and beyond have been instructed not to sell her any dragon bone. Sooner or later, Hok will walk into a trap.”
“We have to help her!” Malao said.
“Indeed,” NgGung said. “I wish I knew how.”
“We'll just have to catch up with them,” Charles said. “We can do it. I have the fastest boat in all China.”
“You mean that foreign sailing vessel at the bottom of the hill?” NgGung asked. “It might be fast on open water, but that tall mast and large sails won't do you any good on the Grand Canal. There is far too much traffic. You would have to row. Also, there are hundreds of low bridges spanning the canal. That mast will never fit under them.”
Charles frowned.
Malao scratched his head. “Why are Hok and Ying looking for dragon bone in the first place? I know Ying likes to drink that stuff with fresh snake blood, but what would Hok do with it?”
“I think I can answer that,” PawPaw said. “While it might just be a wives’ tale, some people believe that dragon bone has special healing properties. Properties that might allow the deaf to hear”—she glanced at Seh—”or the blind to see.”
“That's great!” Malao said, slapping Seh on the back. “It sounds like something Hok would do. She's always thinking of others.”
Seh paused. “Yes, that sounds like something Hok would do, but Ying wouldn't. He wanted to abandon me back inside the fight club tunnels because I couldn't see. He is up to something.”
“I saw Ying get shot by Tonglong's men,” Charles said. “Maybe Hok is treating his injuries.”
Seh shook his head. “That might be part of it, but there has to be more. Ying is a loner. I am betting he is afraid to show his face, so he's letting Hok do all the shopping. Hok is probably doing most of the work handling the boat, too. If I know Ying, once he has everything he needs and he feels he can handle the boat alone, he will take it for hi
mself and abandon Hok. NgGung, where were they last spotted?”
“Several It north of the city of Xuzhou,” NgGung replied.
“How far is that from the end of the Grand Canal?” Seh asked.
“About one-third of the way down,” NgGung said. “Why?”
Seh didn't reply.
NgGung grinned. “You're thinking about the dragon scroll map, aren't you? Your father told me about it. He has done some research and believes it leads somewhere far south, perhaps the end of the Grand Canal. Ying is indeed heading in that direction.”
“Ying wants the treasure,” Fu growled.
“Most likely,” NgGung said. “We've learned that Tonglong also wants that map.”
“We?” Charles said. “You mean the bandits?”
“Precisely,” NgGung said. “Me, Mong, Hung, Gao, Sanfu, plus others you've never met. If we had the resources, we would have sent a team to stop Tonglong from getting his hands on the map. I still remember Tonglong shouting to Seh about the dragon scroll map before he opened fire on you during the Dragon Boat Festival. In hindsight, we probably should have taken the map from Seh for safekeeping.”
“The map doesn't matter anymore,” Charles said. “I saw Ying burn it out in the center of the Yellow River.”
“Ying memorized it, Charles,” Seh said. “He has some remarkable skills. He'll know exactly where to go.”
“Then we should head south immediately,” Charles said. “I know a different route we can take. The Grand Canal ends at the city of Hangzhou, where it spills into the Qiantang River. I've been there. We can take the Yellow River from here all the way to the sea, then follow the coast down to the Qiantang River. From there, we will head up the river to the Grand Canal. My sloop is loaded with supplies and ready to go. She isn't the biggest vessel around, but she is the fastest and can hold the four of us.”
“Four of us?” Seh asked.
“That's right,” Charles said. “Me, you, Fu, and Malao.”
“You want us to go with you?” Malao asked. “I thought all those supplies you were loading into your boat were just for you.”
