by Guy Salvidge
“Once upon a time—” Ji Tao said.
“What's this story called?” Roshan asked.
“What's it called? It's called 'The River Dragon.'”
“Okay.”
“Once upon a time, there was a village near a river. A fisherman's family lived there. The fisherman went down to the river each morning and returned in the afternoon with enough fish to feed his wife and sons.”
“What was the father's name?” Rame asked.
“His name was Liao. His wife was Xin and his sons were Yu and Peng.”
“Okay.”
“When Liao cast his net into the water, he knew exactly where the fish would be. He knew where the alligators lived, and how to avoid them. Everyone knew he was a good man, even the mosquitoes, who generally left him alone. Liao was happy, and his wife and sons were always well fed.
“Then one day, Liao did not return at the usual time in the afternoon. Yu and Peng often went to the river with their father, but not today.
“Xin got very worried as the afternoon dragged on. She wondered if Liao was finding it hard to catch enough fish for their dinner, and was staying out until he had enough. But as afternoon turned to evening, Xin knew this was not so. Xin decided to go down to the river. She was not exactly sure where Liao had been fishing that day. She asked her sons to stay behind but they would not listen. So Xin, Yu and Peng went down to the river.”
“I've heard this story before,” Yi Min said.
“Then keep your mouth shut!” Ji Tao scolded. “I'm not telling it for your benefit. As I was saying, the family went down to the river. There was no sign of Liao or his net. Xin was crying and there was nothing her sons could do to comfort her. They searched high and low for Liao, on the bank of the river and in the reeds. It was no good. Then, when it was getting hard to see, Peng spotted something in the river. It was hard to tell what it was.”
“What was it?” Rame interjected.
“I'm getting to that. Peng had seen something in the river, but none of them could be sure what it was. It was bigger than a man, but it wasn't moving in the current.
'Liao,' Xin said. 'Is that you?'
The dark shape did not reply. Surely it could not be her husband.
Suddenly there was a mighty roar. The river was illuminated by a streak of flame coming from the dark shape.
'It's a dragon!' Peng cried. 'A dragon has eaten my father!'
It was indeed a dragon in the river. Only the head was visible above the water. Xin summoned all her courage and said to the dragon, 'Have you seen my husband Liao?'
For a moment, the dragon did not speak. Perhaps it could not understand them. Then it said, 'Who is it that addresses me?'
'I am Xin,' Xin trembled. 'Daughter of Lin Chi, wife of Liao. These are my sons, Yu and Peng.'
'Interesting,' the dragon said. Flames shot out of its nose, rippling across the water. 'I have seen a fisherman. Is your husband a fisherman?'
'Yes, he is!' Xin cried. 'Tell me, where is he?'
'Hmm,' the dragon said. 'I could tell you where he is, but you won't be happy.'
'You've eaten him!' Yu said. 'You've eaten my father!'
'No,' the dragon said. 'I have not eaten Liao.'
'Then where is he?' Xin pleaded. 'You must have seen where he went.'
'I know exactly where he went,' the dragon said.
'Tell us.'
'I told you that you wouldn't be happy.'
'Please tell us,' Peng pleaded.
'You know, it's an honour to see a family so dedicated to their father. Wife and sons of Liao, you can be proud of yourselves.'
'Thank you,' Xin said. 'But tell me, where is he?'
'I am Liao,' the dragon said.
'My father is a dragon?' Peng asked.
'Correct. I am a dragon. My name is Liao.'
'Why did you not mention this before?' Xin asked.
'I was happy being a fisherman,' the dragon said.
'Can you turn back into a man?' Yu asked.
There was a pause. 'Tricky,' the dragon finally said. 'But I could do it.'
'Then turn back into a man and come home at once!' Xin demanded.
'We're hungry,' Peng said. 'Have you caught any fish?'
'Yes, in a manner of speaking,' the dragon said. 'I will come home. But only if you promise to remember how much you missed me when I was gone.'
'We promise,' Peng said.
'We did miss you,' Yu chimed in.
'Then it's settled,' the dragon said. It approached the bank, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Then they saw the dragon's teeth; they were as sharp as razors, as long as knives. Xin trembled uncontrollably.
'Are you afraid of me?' the dragon asked. 'Your own husband?'
'Yes, I am afraid!' Xin said. 'Turn back into a man quickly and let us go home!'
'I am hurt that you find me repulsive,' the dragon said. 'Remember, I was a dragon first and a man second. Underneath Liao's skin, I will always have dragon bones.'
'Fine,' Xin said, composing herself. 'I don't mind if you are a dragon underneath, so long as you are a man on the surface.'
'Come closer,' the dragon said. 'I want to see my wife with my dragon eyes. You look so...radiant.'
Xin did as she was told. She came up to the very edge of the river, so that her feet were getting wet.
'Closer,' the dragon said.
Xin stepped forward into the river, mud squelching between her toes. 'I'm cold,' she begged. 'Turn back into a man and stop this nonsense!'
'I know you're cold,' the dragon said. 'You're shivering. Now you can join Liao.'
'You're not Liao?' Xin asked, but it was too late. The dragon surged forward and plucked her out of the water. Xin sobbed in the dragon's maw. Her sons shrieked from the bank. The dragon swallowed her whole and the sobbing ended.
'Now,' the dragon said to Yu and Peng. 'Would you like to join your parents?'
“The boys fled all the way back to the village. They never saw their parents or the dragon again. And so it is said, 'Never trust a dragon. Even virtue and honour are not enough to tame them.'
“That's the end,” Ji Tao said.
“Liao's wife was stupid to fall for the dragon's trick,” Yi Min said in summary.
“But what happened to Yu and Peng?” Roshan asked. “Who looked after them?”
“Nobody looked after them,” Ji Tao said. “That's life.”
“Tell us another one!”
“Not right now. If you are good, then aunt Ji Tao will tell another. But only if you behave.”
“We will!”
Ji Tao discovered that the Amar boys did not know any of her family's traditional stories, even though they were very common in Baitang. They had a voracious appetite for the tales. Late in the afternoon, with the caravans stopped for the day, Ji Tao found herself in the role of babysitter again. She had been telling them the story of 'The Giant and the Flea' when she must have dozed off, for now the boys had gone. Sitting up in the grass, she tried to remember what had happened. Normal life was going on around her—there was Tuan, helping the younger men to pitch the big tent—but where were the boys? Ji Tao got to her feet, her head pounding. There was Rong Li, hands on her hips.
“Ji Tao,” Rong Li said. “Tell the boys it's nearly time for dinner.”
“I will,” Ji Tao said. Where had the little vandals gone?
At the edge of the camp site, Ji Tao thought she caught a glimpse of a red shirt, like the one Yi Min had been wearing. Perhaps it had been her imagination. Ji Tao's palms began to sweat.
“Yi Min, Roshan,” she called. Nothing.
“Yi Min!” she said. “It's not funny! Stop playing games.”
Ji Tao was caught in two minds, between heading off into the jungle herself, and confessing her grave mistake to Rong Li. Surely they couldn't have gone far.
“Roshan, Rame,” she called to the undergrowth.
Thinking she had heard a faint reply, Ji Tao listened. The breeze was whistling through t
he trees. All right, she thought. The path into the jungle was overgrown, but it looked like it might have recently been trampled by boisterous feet. Ji Tao could hear a voice from the jungle, but it was only a monkey cackling to itself. Had the boys gone this way, or not?
A sharp cry pierced her ears. There was some kind of commotion ahead. Yi Min came running toward her.
“Aunt Ji Tao!” he cried. “Something got Rame!”
“Got him?” Ji Tao asked. “Where's Roshan?”
Yi Min indicated vaguely over his shoulder. He was shivering.
“Go back to the camp,” Ji Tao told him. “Tell Cheng and Liang to come.” Yi Min scurried off.
Ji Tao felt weak, as though taken by fever. What lay ahead? A yellow spider, probably poisonous, crawled up the tree beside her. Ji Tao flicked it onto the ground and crushed it beneath her feet. A little further along, the path widened. She came to a clearing not unlike the one where the corpse had been hanging. Roshan was running toward her.
“Rame's been hurt!” he said.
Ji Tao pushed past the boy into a grove of spiny fronds. The plants prickled her arms, covering her in thin white spines. She brushed them off. Then she saw the boy.
Rame was lying on a bed of fallen leaves. All the colour had gone out of his face. His arm was soaked in blood, his shirt ripped to shreds. He was barely conscious, murmuring to himself in his delirium.
“What happened?” she asked, turning to Roshan.
“There was a t...tiger,” Roshan said.
“But it didn't take him?”
“No. There were some...some other people.”
“Where did they go?”
Roshan pointed to the dark jungle beyond.
“And they scared the tiger off?”
“I think so.”
The seconds ticked away. Flies were landing on Rame's face; Roshan made it his business to swat them away. A red caterpillar was inching its way toward the injured boy. Ji Tao scooped it up in a leaf and flicked it away.
Rame's breathing was getting shallower. Ji Tao dared not touch him. Where was Cheng? Surely Yi Min had not forgotten to tell him?
“Mama,” Rame croaked, opening his eyes.
The blood had stopped flowing at least. Perhaps the wound was not as bad as it looked. Ji Tao heard the familiar sound of someone coming up the jungle path behind her. It was Cheng and Liang.
They surveyed the boy's condition. “It's not so bad,” Liang surmised. “Let's carry him back.”
Back at the camp, Ji Tao faced the accusing eyes of her family. Clearly they blamed Ji Tao for what had happened. It turned out that the wound was not serious, but Rame was feverish. He wouldn't drink any water unless they forced him to. He still called for his Mama.
“What were you thinking?” Rong Li hissed. “Letting them run off like that!”
“No,” Kalliyan intervened. “They should have known better than to run away. It will be a lesson to them.”
“And a lesson for her too,” Rong Li warned. “Niece Ji Tao, what are you good for?”
“I'm sorry, aunt Rong Li,” Ji Tao said. “I will take more care in future.”
There were no stories that evening.
On the fifth morning, they woke early. Ji Tao made a point of enquiring as to Rame's condition. It seemed he had slept peacefully. Rame would have to travel in the back of the caravan. Later Kalliyan said to Ji Tao, “I'm just worried about what his mother will say.”
“Anyone would be. I feel terrible.”
“Don't blame yourself so much. They shouldn't take advantage like that, and no one else saw them leave the camp. I should have been watching them, too. They're my nephews, after all.”
“This trip seems to be going badly for me,” Ji Tao said.
“At least Rame wasn't killed,” Kalliyan said.
“He's a lucky boy. I'd expect a tiger to take a child of that size. Roshan said something about other people.”
“He's very vague about it,” Kalliyan said. “He won't have seen the natives of these parts before.”
“Maybe they were hunting the tiger when it attacked Rame,” Ji Tao mused. “Perhaps they're not cannibals at all.”
In the afternoon, the heavens opened. The rain came down in sheets. This time they were quicker to try to find higher ground. Tuan knew of a jungle path near here that was wide enough for the caravans. It was just a matter of finding it before the river path became flooded.
Cheng cursed the skies. “What have we done to deserve this?” he asked.
“Do not tempt Heaven,” Rong Li said.
The rain did not abate, and the water began to rise around them.
“We will be swept away!” Ping said. “Where is the path, father?”
Tuan did not answer. Everyone except Rame had to get out and push the caravans through the mud. Very shortly they would not be going anywhere, except perhaps down the river. Ji Tao pushed. It was agony. The mud was up to her calves and she was soaked.
“There it is,” Liang said. “Up there!”
Somehow they made it to the jungle path, which led in a southerly direction. The mud was very slippery. But they were safe for now. Slogging south, Ji Tao could not help but feel that they were getting further away from their destination with every hard-fought step.
Finally the rain eased. Tuan decided that they would stop to rest. It was virtually dark. This far into the jungle, little in the way of light penetrated the canopy. There was no clearing or outcropping upon which to set up camp, so they were forced to pitch their tents on the path itself, in the mud. Ji Tao was covered in it: it was in her hair, smeared on her legs, between her toes. She even imagined that she could taste it in her mouth.
At dinner, Ji Tao could barely chew the meat. There was no dry wood for a fire. Besides, Cheng pointed out, they did not want to attract the natives. Who knew how they would react to this incursion? Ji Tao thought again of the hanging corpse, and imagined it to be herself. She wondered what it would be like to hang dead, her soul too heavy to ascend to Heaven. She imagined herself being ripped apart by a tiger, slashed by wild dogs, bled like a pig. The dead man whispered about his anguish, the family that he had left behind. It asked her to cut him down from the tree so that he might be buried, so that his soul could return to join his ancestors.
The meal complete, Tuan said, “I will tell you about how the world came to be as it is now.
“When the Great Thief came, stealing all it could see and casting it to the four winds, the Middle Kingdom, which had existed for more than three thousand years, ceased to be. It broke up into many smaller kingdoms. It was a time of alliances, deceptions, treachery and war. States came into being one day and were swallowed up the next. Larger states collapsed under their own weight, unable to feed their citizens. And the people suffered, as they always have, as they always will. Soon the east, once the cradle of life, had become a realm of wolves that feasted on the dead, a land of ghosts that haunted the living. So began the years of Everlasting Peace.
“In those days, it seemed as though the world was rebelling against its old master, man. The seas rose precipitously, winds ripped across the plains, and rain lashed the hills. But something even stranger was happening. The world itself was growing hotter, not just in the summer but in the spring, autumn and winter. In the Kingdom of Four Rivers, people noticed that many of the distant peaks that had been snow-topped were snow-topped no longer. Many of the White Mountains were no longer white.
“It seemed as though the world was ending. The land grew more hostile by the year, and in Four Rivers there was a great plague. People starved. Their fields lay untended. This land, once known for its fertile soils, turned bad. Some say that Four Rivers was lucky, for at least it still rained here. In fact, it rained more than ever before. But the hills and rivers were riddled with disease. After the fall of Kinshao and Shulao, there had been no one left to bury the corpses.
“So the people retreated inside their domes, becoming shield-folk. Under the shields the a
ir was clean, the temperature mild, but outside, death waited. Our forebears in Baitang worked like slaves to build a world for us to live in. In the old times, Baitang had not been an important city, but now it was one of the few shielded settlements that had remained intact.
“Outside the shields, jungles rose up from where fields had once been. Within a hundred years of Shulao's fall, those unlucky enough to have been left outside the great shields had little memory of what had gone before. We pass through the lands of these blighted people today. It became a savage jungle indeed, full of boars, tigers, snakes and creatures so terrible they have no name. Somehow the savages survived.
“In my lifetime, I have seen many changes. When I was a child, the savages were few in number and wretched in countenance. The shield-folk had no fear of their primitive bows and spears. But the people of the wild were learning. They were changing while the shield-folk stayed the same. Their settlements are hidden in the jungle, far away from our centres of power. They grow stronger as we grow weaker. When I was a boy, there was electricity in every home. Now it is not so. While we cling to the remnants of the past, the savages prepare for the future.”
“What can they offer?” Cheng interrupted. “These jungle men?”
“I don't know,” Tuan said simply. “But I have never asked.”
“What makes you think you can even talk to them?” Liang asked.
“I'm not sure that I can, but I have never tried.”
“You intend to try now?” Rong Li asked.
“Perhaps they will come to us, or maybe they will leave us alone.”
“Are you saying we're not going back to the river road?” Liang asked.
“The river road is treacherous, as you have seen.”
“But this road is dangerous too,” Rong Li said. “That's why we never come this way.”
“It's a risk, I know,” Tuan admitted. “But a risk I intend to take, with your permission.”
Ji Tao thought that this was a strange development. So strange that Tuan felt he needed the permission of his family to enact it.
“I know these lands and I say it is folly,” Cheng said. “Uncle, I respect your wisdom deeply, but I cannot agree to this.”
“Then return to the river road,” Tuan said. “I will give you a caravan.”
