by Mouse
Ying pulled the branch away, and WanSow weakly opened her eyes. She blinked twice at Ying, slowly, and Charles thought that he saw the slightest hint of a smile on her face before her eyelids drifted closed once more.
“I don't believe it,” Charles said. “Ying, I give you joy!”
Ying nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
Malao squealed with delight. “Is she going to be okay?”
“We'll have to wait and see,” Hok said. “It could be days before we know for sure. Maybe weeks.”
Charles’ blond eyebrows shot up his freckled forehead. “Weeks? Can we move her before then?”
“It depends,” Hok said. “We shouldn't move her until we know the extent of her internal damage. There is no telling how long that will be.”
“But we can't stay here,” Charles said, looking up at the holes in the roof.
“Sure we can,” Malao replied. “Fu and I once helped rebuild an entire village after Tonglong and his men burned it. We can fix this place up in no time.”
“What about the sniper?” Charles said. “Won't somebody miss him?”
“That is a concern, to be sure,” Hok said. “But I'm even more concerned about WanSow.”
“I'll take care of any more snipers,” Fu growled.
Ying stood. “We all appreciate your concern, Charles. However, you are highly skilled with your pistols, and I've handled my fair share of muskets. Thanks to the sniper, we have three, fully loaded. Besides, I know something of the posting of snipers, and they nearly always work individually and on one-week rotations. Sometimes they'll stay posted for an entire month. Chances are very good that no one will miss him for a while.”
“I can't leave my sloop out there for an entire month,” Charles said. “Or even a week. Someone will steal it. Just leaving it empty overnight makes me nervous.”
“Then go to it,” Hok said. “Pull up your anchor, too, if you wish. However, please don't go far. I know a safe place we can take WanSow once she's stabilized, but we will need your help to get her there.”
Charles frowned. What he wanted to do was take them to visit his sailor friends on the nearby island. Ever since they'd turned away from Tonglong's ship, he'd been thinking about meeting up with his mates. He longed for a good old-fashioned Dutch meal and the chance to speak his native tongue again. What's more, there was a good chance they would meet up with someone Hok would certainly want to see as much as he did—her father, Captain Henrik. Hok hadn't seen him since she was very young, but the last Charles had heard, Captain Henrik was on his way to the island. However, Charles dared not mention the possibility of her seeing her father for fear of giving her false hope. Captain Henrik was always on the move.
Frustrated and confused, Charles headed for the burned-out doorway. “When you are ready, meet me at the creek mouth. I will be aboard my sloop, waiting.”
CHAPTER
5
Early the next morning, ShaoShu stood on the deck of Tonglong's warship, watching the sun begin to rise through thick morning fog. Lei stood next to him, dressed in a fine Chinese military uniform instead of the previous day's foreign sailor's outfit. As his cat prowled the deck a few paces away, Lei plucked white cat hairs from his red silk robe and pants. ShaoShu felt the mouse in his pouch grow restless.
“Ready, Lei?” asked a metallic voice behind ShaoShu. He turned to see Tonglong dressed in an immaculate silk uniform identical to Lei's, a shining straight sword tucked into his brilliant white sash.
“I am ready for anything, sir,” Lei replied.
“Anything?” Tonglong asked, adjusting his long ponytail braid over his shoulder. “Prove it.”
In a flash, Lei whipped off his sash, and his red robe fell open to reveal two thick straps of leather crisscrossing his chest. Each strap held three small loaded pistols in holsters and several small pouches. Before ShaoShu could even blink, Lei had a pistol in each hand.
“Excellent,” Tonglong said. “I've heard good things about you.”
Lei bowed.
Tonglong turned to ShaoShu. “Lei is coming along to provide protection. You will accompany me as my servant. I don't expect any trouble, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Lei has a reputation for being a first-rate gunner with ships’ cannons, but he is perhaps even better known for his pistols. Have you ever heard of the fight clubs, ShaoShu?”
ShaoShu's eyes widened. He had indeed heard of the fight clubs. He looked at Lei, amazed. “You're that Thunder?”
“At your service,” Lei replied, retying his sash.
“You're famous!” ShaoShu said. “They say the Grand Championship will probably be between you and the fighter known as Golden Dragon.”
“That is probably true,” Lei said, his eyes twinkling. “And I have no doubt that I will be victorious.” He patted the pistols beneath his robe. “It will be the highest honor for me to win the Grand Champion ship and join the ranks of such men as General Tonglong.”
And Ying, ShaoShu thought, hiding a smile. He couldn't help feeling excited. Everybody knew about the fight clubs. Even though he had never been inside one, being a friend to Ying—last year's Grand Champion— made him feel proud.
Tonglong looked at Lei. “I have never seen you in action, but my mother has. While some people question the use of pistols in the pit arena, she applauds it. I am not sure how I feel about it.”
“The rules say that any weapon may be used, sir,” Lei said. “The pistol just happens to be the ultimate weapon. There is nothing preventing other participants from using pistols, but most don't because firearms have drawbacks. Many times they don't fire, and when they do, you get only one shot. Also, if you mishandle it, you might shoot a spectator. I believe that disqualifies you.”
“So it does,” Tonglong said. “It would indeed be a shame to be disqualified because of a spectator. My mother believes that you have the skills required to win this year's title. She is the one who suggested I have you join my ship's crew, you know.”
“I did not know that, sir. I had the honor of meeting her earlier this year. She is very knowledgeable about the fight clubs, and she said that your father was once an acquaintance of my father. I remember AnGangseh well.”
The corners of Tonglong's thin lips rose up into a devious grin. “She is not easy to forget.”
“Might she be in Shanghai, sir? The fight club finale is to be held there in two months, and with your permission I hope to be given leave to participate. If she is there, I would enjoy seeing her again.”
“She will be there,” Tonglong said. “She is currently en route, entertaining the Emperor. I will be there, too, as will many of the former Grand Champions. Of course you will be given leave. I know more than anyone the extent to which winning can change your life. I shall reintroduce you to my mother, too. I may even introduce you to the Emperor.”
Lei looked away. “That would be most kind of you, sir.”
Tonglong nodded and turned to ShaoShu. “Per haps I will bring you as well. Would you like that?”
ShaoShu's eyes lit up. “Yes, sir!”
“Good,” Tonglong said. “Prove yourself today, and I will bring you along. Come, let us see what you are made of.”
Tonglong led ShaoShu and Lei down the ship's gangway to an enormous dock. The morning fog was beginning to burn off, and ShaoShu now had a better view of the wharf. It wasn't at all what he'd expected.
There were perhaps a hundred docks along the shoreline, but only a handful of boats were tied up there. Of those, every one was battered and ancient and very small, just big enough to hold two or three fishermen. None of them looked like the elaborate trading vessels ShaoShu was used to seeing in other ports.
Beyond the docks stood more than thirty buildings, but most of them had fallen in upon themselves, and only one appeared to be occupied. This was nothing at all like Hangzhou or any of the other waterside cities ShaoShu had seen before. This was a ghost town.
Tonglong stepped off the docks and walked briskly up
the wharf, and ShaoShu hurried to keep pace. Lei stayed well behind, his head constantly rotating from side to side as he looked for trouble.
They approached the only building with an OPEN sign, and before they could knock, an elderly woman came out to greet them. She said that she hadn't had a customer in weeks and begged them to join her for tea. Tonglong declined, saying that they were in a hurry and simply needed to purchase a few things. He handed her a list, and she disappeared inside.
The woman returned holding a large sack, and Tonglong nodded to ShaoShu. She handed the sack to him to carry.
“Ooof,” ShaoShu said, struggling beneath its bulk. “What's in here?”
“You'll find out soon enough,” Tonglong said. “Lei, pay the woman.”
Tonglong led ShaoShu away. They had taken only a few steps when ShaoShu began to lose his grip on the unwieldy sack. It wasn't so much that it was heavy; it was nearly half as tall as he was, and he couldn't see a thing while he carried it. It flopped around in front of him, blocking his view. All he could do was follow behind Tonglong, keeping his eyes glued to Tonglong's feet, trying his best not to trip over the uneven pavement stones as they wound their way inland up a dilapidated road.
Half an hour later, ShaoShu was in agony. His arms and legs were beginning to shake from holding the sack in awkward positions, and his back felt like it was going to snap in two. In an effort to distract his mind from the discomfort, he said to Tonglong, “Excuse me, sir, may I ask where we are going?”
“Where do you think we are going?” Tonglong replied.
“This sack smells like it has food in it. Are we going to visit someone?”
“We are, indeed,” Tonglong said.
“Are we going to a party?” ShaoShu asked, growing excited. “I love parties!”
“You could call it a party.”
“Who is the party for?”
“My father.”
ShaoShu frowned. Didn't Tonglong just say that his mother was with the Emperor? he thought.
“Is there something you wish to ask?” Tonglong said.
ShaoShu swallowed hard. “I was just thinking about your mother.”
“Ah, yes. AnGangseh—the Cobra. Even if she were in this village, she would not accompany us. She has moved on from my father. Indeed, she has moved on from her second husband, too. She is not the most loyal person.”
“Oh,” replied ShaoShu.
“Any more questions before we arrive?”
ShaoShu scratched his head. “Do you have any brothers or sisters, sir?”
“I have a half brother from my mother's second marriage. He is called Seh, or Snake. He is a young warrior monk.”
ShaoShu nearly choked. Seh was Hok's temple brother! Afraid to ask any more questions, ShaoShu trudged on until Tonglong stopped suddenly.
ShaoShu crashed into the back of Tonglong's legs, and Tonglong's knees buckled slightly, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, and he appeared to be lost in thought.
“We have arrived,” Tonglong said drily. “Let the party begin.”
ShaoShu gratefully set the sack down. He peeked around Tonglong to see where the party would take place, and his mouth dropped open. They were standing at the gates of a cemetery.
“What's wrong?” Tonglong asked. “You're not superstitious, are you?”
“No,” ShaoShu replied, lying.
Tonglong smirked. “You have nothing to fear from spirits. Unless you've angered them, of course. Have you ever been to a cemetery?”
ShaoShu shook his head.
“This cemetery has degraded miserably since my father's death, as has the entire village. This was home, and he built it into a prosperous port. Without his leadership, it has fallen into ruin. I haven't been here in many years. I hope my father isn't upset with me.”
ShaoShu shivered. So did his mouse.
Tonglong walked through the gates, and ShaoShu reluctantly picked up the sack and headed in after him. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Lei stop near the entrance, where he pulled a pistol from the folds of his robe and stood guard. ShaoShu almost laughed. What good would a pistol be against angry spirits?
Not wanting to upset any ghosts that might be lurking about, even in the daylight, ShaoShu continued on as silently as possible, using every trick he knew to keep his footfalls quiet. He figured that was the respectful thing to do. Tonglong, on the other hand, plodded forward, his heavy boots echoing over ancient stone paths, kicking up dust clouds in the morning sun.
They passed through several elaborate courtyards, and Tonglong led ShaoShu through a series of low buildings that had no roofs. Along every wall were neat rows of square stone plaques about the size of his head. The plaques were covered in Chinese characters, and beneath each was a narrow shelf. On a few of the shelves sat tiny vases containing dried flowers. ShaoShu wondered when they would come across gravestones, like he'd seen in other places, but there wasn't a single one in sight.
Soon they stopped in front of a small ornate building about seven paces long by five paces wide. This one did have a roof but no doors or windows. Intricate statues as large as a man had been hewn from the black stone walls, seemingly bursting forth from the living rock. There were three, all disturbing variations of the same horrible creature—a mantis.
ShaoShu swallowed hard.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Tonglong said.
ShaoShu nodded.
“The mantis has been my family's symbol for many generations. It is fast, intelligent, and more than anything, efficient. Just like my father. Just like me.“
A chill ran down ShaoShu's spine. He felt like someone—or something—was watching him. He stared at the building, and high on one wall, he noticed a circular recess that contained a painting of a particularly vicious mantis. It was tearing a small bird to pieces.
ShaoShu looked away and said, “Your father is buried in there?”
“Buried? No. No one is buried in this cemetery. That is not our custom in this region. We cremate our dead, burn them to ash. The remains are collected in an urn and entombed.”
ShaoShu pointed to the roofless buildings behind them. “Is that what those squares are for?”
“Yes. Behind each plaque is a small space that contains an urn. The shelves are for placing offerings. Those buildings contain generation upon generation of hundreds of families.”
“But your father has a whole building to himself?”
“That's right.”
“He must have been very important.”
“He was, indeed.”
ShaoShu looked at the ornate black building again. “How come he doesn't have a shelf?”
Tonglong chuckled. “We place his offerings on the ground, facing the painting of the mantis with the bird. Open the sack, and you can help me.”
ShaoShu cringed but did as he was told. He untied the sack, and a foodlike scent that he couldn't identify wafted forth.
“What is that smell?” he asked.
“Smoked beef tongue. It was my father's favorite.”
ShaoShu made a sour face.
“Don't worry,” Tonglong said. “You won't be eating it. It is intended for my father's spirit only, like everything else in there.”
ShaoShu began removing the rest of the bag's contents, growing more confused with each item. Besides the smoked beef tongue, he pulled out a small cask of wine, three dinner buns, three apples, three robes made of thin colorful paper, and several blocks of thick paper folded and painted to resemble bars of gold and silver.
Tonglong arranged the food and wine on the ground, then picked up the paper items and the empty sack. He led ShaoShu to a nearby fire pit that had a small lantern burning next to it, even though it was broad daylight. Tonglong put the items down and neatly unfolded one of the paper robes, laying it on the fire pit's cold ashes.
“They say even spirits need new clothes and money,” Tonglong said. “People burn these likenesses to satisfy those needs. It is a way of sho
wing that you have respect for your ancestors, respect for your past.”
Tonglong picked up the lantern and opened it, lowering it to one corner of the paper robe. The robe burst into flames. As he began to unfold a second robe, he looked at ShaoShu and nodded toward a sunny courtyard. “Why don't you wait for me over there? I am going to meditate now.”
“Yes, sir,” ShaoShu said, glad to be getting away from the smoke and the eerie black building. He strolled over to the courtyard and sat down on a stone bench in the warm sun.
He thought about letting his mouse out to get some fresh air and sunshine, but he was concerned that it might run off. Chasing a mouse across a cemetery did not sound like fun. Besides, Tonglong would probably be finished at any moment. After all, how long could a person meditate?
Several hours later, ShaoShu was still wondering. Lunchtime had come and gone, and Tonglong hadn't budged. He sat in the same position hour after hour, unmoving, his legs crossed, his eyes closed, and his back perfectly straight. ShaoShu had never seen someone with so much discipline.
ShaoShu's stomach growled, and he glanced over at the food offerings. Even smoked beef tongue was beginning to sound better than no lunch at all. How ever, he saw that the food was covered with a blanket of swarming flies, and he quickly lost his appetite.
With nothing to do, ShaoShu decided to take a nap. He hadn't slept much over the past few days, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity. He closed his eyes, and after what felt like half an hour, he was startled awake by the sound of heavy boots crossing the courtyard. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and was shocked to see that it had grown dark. The moon was even beginning to rise.
“Time to get to work,” Tonglong said, stopping next to ShaoShu.
“Uh, okay,” ShaoShu replied, pushing himself to his feet. He made a move toward the fire pit, but Tonglong grabbed his arm.
