Horsemen United: Horsemen Origins Books 1-5

by Benjamin Hartman

  “Come, you must be hungry,” the Hermit said as he escorted Lee to his table. The Hermit ladled a clear liquid into a bowl and slid the bowl in front of Lee with a spoon inside of it.

  Lee smelled the hot liquid. The scent of lemongrass, onion and garlic filled his nose. His stomach growled as he realized that it’d been days since his last meal. He took a spoonful and shoved it into his mouth. He didn’t care that the scalding liquid burned his tongue. The soup tasted even better than it smelled, and he devoured it right as the Hermit sat down to enjoy his own.

  The Hermit chuckled. “Good to see that I haven’t lost my ability to cook. Let me get you some more,” he said as he took Lee’s empty bowl from him.

  “How...how did you make that?” Lee asked.

  “Oh it was quite simple really. You know cooking is nothing more than a mixture of ingredients. A basic premise of chemistry, but the real trick is in the correct application of heat,” the Hermit said.

  “No, I mean the ingredients. Where did you get them?”

  “Ah. Up here where there is some sunlight, a few plants and herbs grow. They endure the cold quite well. Wild onion and garlic, lemongrass, thyme, just wait until you try the wild pigeon,” the Hermit chuckled.

  “There’s plants up here?” Lee asked.

  “Not many. A shrub here, a bush there.”

  “But there are plants up here?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “In China, I was a botanist. I studied plants for a living.”

  “Ah, fascinating. What was your life like? Before all of this?” the Hermit asked.

  “I collected and studied plants for medicine. I loved my work, but my family and I were forced here.”

  “It is like that with many families. What happened to yours?” the Hermit asked.

  Lee’s lower lip quivered. He felt something dry cracking against his chin and realized that he still had the dried blood of the soldier whose neck he’d bit days ago.

  “I...killed the men who killed my family. All except one. The officer,” Lee said as his fingers dug into the wooden table. The Hermit stared in quiet contemplation.

  Lee snickered. “Wood? Up here? Are there trees?” he asked as he blinked away his tears.

  “There is a forest nearby. I’ll take you tomorrow. Too late now.”

  The rest of the dinner was eaten in silence between the two men. The Hermit showed Lee to his bed and left him there alone.

  In the midst of the darkness Lee broke down into tears as his thoughts wandered to his family. He tossed and turned as his mind replayed Ai Fen’s final screams when her life was stolen followed by the sight of his daughter being shot again and again. No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to hold her one last time within his dreams.

  The nightmares stirred in Lee’s mind, twisting his thoughts into insidious demons that tormented him in his sleep.

  The morning sun couldn’t come soon enough as it pierced through the curtain into Lee’s bedroom. He walked out to see the Hermit tending to his fire. He flashed Lee a grin.

  “Good morning. Trouble sleeping?” the Hermit asked.

  Lee gave him a glare which gave the obvious answer.

  “I’m sorry,” The Hermit said. “When one loses their family, the dreams become nightmares that we cannot escape.” As he spoke, small embers wafted through the air and up the chimney.

  Lee looked down at the dirt floor and shuffled to the chair closest to him. He felt like a lost soul, without purpose. A man stripped of identity or meaning, his very existence snuffed out before his eyes.

  “Come, you wanted to see the forest,” the Hermit said as he hoisted a basket onto his back. Lee looked up and the Hermit tossed him some robes along with a basket to strap onto his back.

  The two men trekked through the snow and the faint sunlight into the mountain range. As Lee crested over the ridge, he saw the face of the mountain covered in pines. They swayed in the breeze, a hypnotic wave that signaled peace and tranquility.

  “Tell me about your family,” the Hermit said as he thrust his walking stick into the snow and made his descent towards the pines.

  “Ai Fen and I met through a friend. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I knew the moment that I saw her I wanted her as my wife. Within the year, we were married. Then we had our baby girl Ju who cared for my tiny herb garden while I worked in the mines,” Lee explained.

  The only sound between the two was the trampling of snow underfoot as the two men sought out edible plants. The plants here reminded Lee of thistles. Their stalks were woody and aligned with tiny barbs that would blister and infect any who dared to grab the plant. Typical for plants that grew high in the mountains. He also found several spruces whose needles could be used to make a potent tea that would stave off infection. It was an hour before the Hermit spoke again.

  “Why do you accept the burden of mining here on Ophridia?”

  “What choice did we have? It was either come here or get arrested by the Chinese Government.”

  “Which resulted not only in your arrest here, but the death of your family did it not?”

  Lee didn’t answer. He let the question hang in the air like a ghost that refused to leave its haunting place.

  “There is always a choice!” The Hermit shouted. His voice echoed throughout the mountain valley, but Lee didn’t say anything.

  The two men worked in silence for hours into the afternoon collecting plants and wild root vegetables. Lee felt the sides of his head threatening to burst from the altitude, but he pressed on.

  “You make a great mule you know that? Take all of your beatings in stride, press onward, stay quiet-”

  “Bee-jway!” Lee snapped. “I am no mule. I am no dairuomu ji hiding in the mountains either!”

  “HA! You most certainly are a crazed chicken! You hide up here from the Tingchia rather than die like a man! You let your wife and your daughter get killed-”

  “Bee-jway duh liou mahng! Ni tama de tianxia suoyou de ren duo gaisi!”

  “Calling me names won’t get you anywhere. Why did you run when the Emperor killed your family?”

  “The Emperor did not kill my family. It was a hwoon dahn named Quan.”

  “Who did so on the Emperor’s orders.”

  “It is not like there was anything I could do. I couldn’t save them. I am not armed, I couldn’t fight, couldn’t-”

  “Make enough excuses, I know.”

  “Ai ya! What was I to do? Please tell me!”

  “That is for you to decide. Fight the Emperor or hide out here.”

  “You’re a frustrating old hundan.”

  “So I’ve been told.” The two men spent the rest of the night in silence. After dinner, Lee tried to rest and ease his headache, but each time he went back to sleep, the nightmares resumed. They chaffed and attacked his mind, threatening a madness from either sleep deprivation or the constant exposure to such gruesome detail.

  The two men spent the next day in silence. They gathered more plants for food and the Hermit hunted pigeons that dared fly over his house. Lee’s mind swirled with rebuttals and insults, all meant to put the Hermit in his place. He stewed in anger until dinner time when he finally broke the twenty-four hour silence between the two.

  “I am just one man. How can I possibly fight the Emperor?”

  “The Emperor is just one man. One man who rules millions and doesn’t hesitate to kill them. One man who spreads terror like wildfire.”

  “What is your point?” Lee asked.

  “I’m saying that he is only one man like you, yet you hide here in the mountains while he enjoys the fruits harvested from the labor of millions. Strange is it not?”

  “Then why don’t you do something?”

  “Oh, I cannot. I can hardly walk, let alone try to bring down the Emperor. You however, a man in his prime, could do much...that is if you can endure the mountains,” the Hermit said.

  Lee gave a puzzled look.

  “The cold is sa
vage, heartless. It grips you at your very bones and draws your life away a little at time, lulling you into a sleep that you will never wake from,” the Hermit said. Then he erupted into savage laughter, as if he told the best joke of his life. Lee didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Not a joker are you? The cold suits you then. Let the ice take you mister serious.”

  “What am I to joke about? I just lost my wife and daughter!” Lee hissed

  “Nonsense. They were not your possessions. They were returned to the spirit world from whence they came. This is where they belong, not here, trapped in this crude matter,” the Hermit said as he pinched a piece of his arm.

  “They were shot in cold blood!”

  “A gruesome sight, that is certain. Yet they’re relieved from the sufferings of this world. Would you rather they suffered in torment at the hands of the Emperor?”

  “Chur ni-duh ben tiansheng de yidui rou!” Lee cursed.

  “Such anger...misplaced. You burn at the sight of me for being honest, yet you show no resentment against the man who took your family from you!”

  “How do I get justice then? What good is my resentment against an omnipresent Emperor?

  “Those are not the questions you should be asking!” the Hermit snapped.

  “Then what is the right question?”

  “The right question is: How can one man bring fear to a man who should know none?”

  “I don’t know! Your fay hwa questions are as useful as to gen houzi bi diushi!”

  “Lee I am not asking you to engage in a feces throwing contest with a monkey! Here, drink this tea and meditate on what I’ve asked you. Put that overactive mind which gives you nightmares to use.”

  Lee glared at the beige liquid, but he gulped it down in one swallow and stormed out. Outside, the sun prepared to set, while the clouds lulled in a listless wave of cotton along the horizon. He was desperate for an answer to the Hermit’s question, to dole out justice to the Emperor and his men. Still, Lee only thought of himself as just one man.

  He closed his eyes. He felt the icy mountain air claw his neck and slither down his back. He felt the crispness in his lungs as he inhaled one breath after another. Images began to unfold, hidden truths revealed before his eyes.

  Lee wondered for a moment if he’d drank a hallucinogen, but his thoughts bloomed like a garden of wildflowers. He saw the crimson Tingchia march through the streets of Ophridia like an omnipresent draconic overlord. They beat people, shot them, and dragged them through the streets. Through all of this Lee watched, and the oppressed eyes all fell on him at once. He watched and let all of this happen, like an ancient guardian who had abandoned its post.

  Next came Ju being dragged through the streets. Lee tried to grab ahold of her, but his limbs were as heavy as lead. He screamed, although nobody heard him.

  The world flashed and Lee was brought before a crowd that gathered to watch the Emperor Yiu Mei decree his policy of the Xiongbu in an effort to provide stability. Yiu Mei was giving a rallying speech, but as Lee turned to look at the crowd, he only met the gaze of frozen lead statues.

  “It is through leaden indifference that allows the rise of tyrants!” A voice said through the void. Lee looked around, but all he found was a knife in his hand.

  A rumble of thunder echoed across the cloudscape and Lee felt a shiver rattle his bones. The crimson coats of the Tingchia began to bleed. Then the soldiers themselves began to bleed. They screamed and howled like wolves. Their cries echoed across the landscape, but an encroaching ice muffled their pleas.

  There was an explosion on the first floor of the Imperial Palace, which caused the Tingchia to panic. The Emperor sent his soldiers to march on the populace and open fire. The hardened faces of the miners turned to revolt as a dark cloud of terror filled the palace. More blood was spilled between the Miners and the Tingchia as they clashed, while Lee felt himself become lighter than a feather.

  He had become a wispy, smoke-colored creature that glided across the ground in search of prey. He could see the terror in the hearts of the Tingchia as he approached, an infected black cyst that was spreading. The Tingchia recoiled in horror at his presence. Bullets and knives went through him, and only moved wisps of smoke. He lashed at the soldiers with his claws, and savored the sight of the gashes in their chests. Anyone with a cyst was an abomination, a creature of terror that needed to be snuffed out. There would be no mercy, no forgiveness, no escape from the wraith that Lee had become.

  Yiu Mei’s heart became infected and he retreated into his elaborate palace. Lee glided across the ground, followed by a handful of other wraiths, who mercilessly cut down Yiu Mei’s ranks. One by one Yiu Mei’s soldiers, Generals, and Ministers all collapsed from the wraiths until Yiu Mei found himself locked away from the world in a prison of his own making. The ornate palace had become his tomb, where Lee could finish him off once and for all. As he made his approach, a blinding light covered his vision...

  Lee gasped for air and his lungs felt the chill from the mountain. He had the answer he needed, the key to ending Yiu Mei once and for all. He would have to become an apparition, a wraith who would strike terror into the heart of the Empire the way Yiu Mei had done to the people of Ophridia four years ago.

  “What did you see?” the Hermit asked as he approached.

  “Visions of Terror. Terror in the heart of Yiu Mei,” Lee replied

  “Now you see how one man can bring down an empire,” the Hermit said.

  “How? How do I do this?” Lee asked.

  “Too many questions. Fortunately, I have an entire library of books which will teach you everything. Now your training will begin.”

  Lee didn’t notice the passage of the next three years where he immersed himself in the history, the philosophy and the methodology of revolutionaries from eons past. He acquired and studied specimens of plants for the purposes of poison. He learned how to manufacture explosives, trained in hand to hand combat and even taught pigeons to carry messages. The Hermit pushed Lee through his studies, prescribing texts that he acquired and were long since destroyed by the Emperor.

  “Today, you take your leave,” the Hermit said. “I will confess that I’ve forgotten how to make soup for one.”

  “Thank you for all of your help,” Lee replied. “I must know one thing before I go: Why did you push me so hard to fight the Emperor?”

  “I hope you will succeed where I failed Xing Ming Lee. I failed to stop the Xiongbu.”

  “How?”

  “I was a personal advisor to the Emperor. I fled when it became obvious that he would slaughter anyone he perceived as a threat. Then I came here where he’d never find me.”

  “Seems to have worked well for us,” Lee said.

  “Indeed. Down there, they won’t recognize you. They won’t understand. You will be a ghost.”

  “Perfect. I’ll be able to move freely.”

  “Go, and ju ni how ying.”

  “Good luck to you too,” Lee replied.

  For three days, Lee endured the cold as he traversed back down the mountain. Below the cloudscape, he couldn’t tell day from night anymore. On the ground, he came across a group of miners and claimed that he’d been separated from the day shift. They gave him a lift back into the city and dropped him off in front of the Eternal Dragon. Lee peered through the windows inside to see if he could spot any of his old friends. Zao and Deng were enjoying their traditional after-work drink and the Englishman was poised to take the stage.

  “Some things never change,” Lee said.

  “Hey! What are you doing there?” A mandarin voice snapped through the air. Lee looked over. Two Tingchia ran to him with a glint of ferocity in their eyes.

  “What are you doing out here? It’s almost curfew! You are not to wander the streets! Show me your papers,” one of the officers ordered.

  Lee nodded and he reached inside his robe. He feigned a look of surprise, then reached out and snapped the soldier’s neck. The other one was about to s
cream, but Lee seized the man’s throat and cut off all attempts to cry for help. He broke this soldier’s neck as well, and his body made a dull thump as it collapsed to the ground.

  Lee checked his surroundings for any more soldiers. None were coming and he noticed the uniforms on the dead men at his feet.

  He swapped the uniforms of the soldiers for the clothes on his back, and discarded the bodies into a nearby trash unit. He plugged the comm piece into his ear and a world of communication opened up to him, the movements of the Tingchia unveiled through the entire cityscape.

  “All units converge on the Eternal Dragon. Suspicious activity reported.” Lee froze. His heart thundered in his chest. He forced himself to take deep breaths and steady himself for the oncoming squad. Four Tingchia ran past the alleyway in front of Lee. They marched into the Eternal Dragon and in an instant the cheerful laughter and ruckus ceased. The bar became eerily quiet as the Tingchia marched around the patrons to determine who was under arrest now.

  Two of the soldiers surrounded Zao and Deng. Zao hunkered down and tried to ignore the soldiers while his hair covered his face. Deng tried to relax and look nonchalant. A soldier reached down and pulled Zao up by the hair and dragged him outside. The other soldiers followed.

  “Why are you dragging me, I’ve done nothing wrong!” Zao said in his native tongue.

  “Zao Qin you’re under arrest for conspiracy against the Emperor as well as the murder of two Tingchia. You have been named as a conspirator against the Empire and shall be tried for your crimes against Ophridia,” the Captain said.

  “Fate has a strange way of bringing us back together,” Lee whispered to himself.

  Zao whimpered in the darkness on his knees before his accuser. This was how it was going to end. A faceless accuser, then the Tingchia arrest him and place the black bag over his head and make him disappear forever. Zao’s lip quivered in terror as he realized that he was going to be made into an example, another victim of Yiu Mei’s Xiongbu.