The Remarkable Journey of Prince Jen

by Lloyd Alexander

  Plum Blossom looked at him, puzzled, as Jen undid his bundle. "Not a real bird," he said. "But it can fly."

  He took out the kite.

  While Plum Blossom, curious, held a lamp for him, he spread the rods and struts on the earthen floor. Working deftly, he put the pieces together. The kite grew to the shape of a bird, its beautifully painted wings wider than Jen's outstretched arms.

  He carried the finished kite to Fragrance of Orchid and held it in front of her, moving it back and forth. The girl did not stir. Jen sadly shook his head. He would have turned away, but Plum Blossom snatched his arm.

  "Wait! She raises her head." Indeed, Fragrance of Orchid was struggling to sit up. Her eyes fixed on the kite. She smiled. Plum Blossom threw her arms around the girl. "Does she live again?"

  Jen put down the kite to help the old woman lift the child from her cot. Fragrance of Orchid reached out, murmuring. She bobbed her head happily when Jen brought the plaything to her once more.

  All that night, Plum Blossom and Jen stayed at the bedside. Plum Blossom fed the girl, caressed her, and whispered to her. Each time Fragrance of Orchid showed signs of dropping back into her strange sleep, Jen had only to set the kite before her and she would rouse again, all the stronger.

  By morning, Fragrance of Orchid was able to stand unaided though unsteady. Beyond a few murmured words, she had not spoken. But her eyes sparkled as Jen led her outside into the farmyard.

  There, he flung up the great kite to the freshening breeze. Fragrance of Orchid clapped her hands and laughed with delight to see it soar aloft at the end of its cord. It swooped and swerved, its colors dazzling in the sunlight.

  Jen started to haul it back to earth. Fragrance of Orchid shook her head and pointed upward, clearly entreating him to keep it in the air.

  "No, I won't fly it anymore," Jen said quietly to her. "You'll do it." He took her hand and curled her fingers around the cord. "Keep this. It is yours."

  • • • • •

  A gift meant for Yuan-ming has found its way into the hands of a child. But who could wish Jen to have done otherwise? To learn more about the kite and Fragrance of Orchid, leave Jen for the time being and read the next chapter.

  18

  • The Tale Of The Soaring Kite •

  THE MOMENT FRAGRANCE OF ORCHID felt the tug of the kite as it flew aloft, her strength began returning. Her eyes brightened, and she laughed to see it dip and veer in the breeze.

  "My tame bird!" cried Fragrance of Orchid. "See, it will do whatever I ask."

  "You are a little bird yourself," replied Grandmother Plum Blossom, beaming to see the girl happy and high-spirited again. "A marvelous gift! What a shame the young man left so quickly. We had no time to thank him enough. Even so, we must always remember him."

  "I will," Fragrance of Orchid said. She could, in fact, recall his every feature, for the stranger's face was one of the first things she saw after the kite roused her. "But why did he have a kite with him in the first place?"

  "Who can tell?" replied Plum Blossom. "We can only be glad he did. Come now, bring down your new plaything before you tire yourself."

  Fragrance of Orchid obeyed, although reluctantly. No sooner did the kite touch ground than her face clouded and her eyes lost their sparkle. Plum Blossom could see her granddaughter's heart grow heavy when, moments before, it had been so light.

  That evening, while she did not fall back into her trancelike sleep, Fragrance of Orchid sat motionless and silent, gazing wistfully at the kite.

  "If the toy so cheers her," Plum Blossom thought, "then let her play with it as often as she likes."

  Next morning, therefore, Plum Blossom did not burden the girl with household tasks, but allowed her to fly the kite to her heart's content.

  Each day thereafter, Fragrance of Orchid sprang out of bed at the crack of dawn, ran outdoors, and flung the kite into the breeze. And, each day, her strength and spirits grew better.

  Also, the more she played with the kite the more skill she gained in flying it. The slightest movement of her fingers on the string made the bright wings dip and dance, pitch and plunge as if alive. "Almost a real bird!" Fragrance of Orchid cried. "It flies of itself!"

  So, indeed, it seemed. At first, to let it catch the wind, Fragrance of Orchid raced across the farmyard and outlying fields, paying out the line as she sped lightly over the ground. But soon she realized that she need only toss it a little above her head, and the kite would soar immediately skyward.

  One day, Fragrance of Orchid went as usual into the fields. Before she could raise the kite, suddenly it leaped from her hands and went circling upward.

  The string whipped through her fingers so rapidly it burned them. Fragrance of Orchid nevertheless did not let go. She bent all her strength to hold on to the taut line. She tugged and strained, doing her best to haul the kite earthward, but it climbed ever higher. Though she dug her heels into the ground, the kite soon pulled her along on her tiptoes, sweeping her across the dry grass.

  Within moments, the kite flew so high that it went to the full length of its string. Fragrance of Orchid, however, clung to the end of the line. Otherwise, she would have to let the kite fly away; and this she was determined not to do.

  "Sail high as you like," Fragrance of Orchid cried. "If you won't come down, I'll come up after you." Fragrance of Orchid tried to climb up the kite string. Even as she did, she felt herself lifted from the earth. Her toes no longer touched the ground. Still clutching the string, she skimmed over the field. The kite bore her higher and higher, above the tallest trees in the fringe of woodland.

  Hearing her granddaughter's voice, Plum, Blossom ran from the farmhouse. In a quick downward glance, Fragrance of Orchid saw the old woman wave her arms, then set off to follow as fast as her legs could carry her.

  "Grandmother Plum Blossom will find me once I come down," Fragrance of Orchid told herself. And so she clung bravely to the string even as the kite rose far above hills and forests. Those first moments, as the ground fell away beneath her, she shut her eyes tightly, not daring to look down. As the kite sped along, she ventured to open them again. She found herself above a shoreless ocean of clouds under a bright blue sky stretching farther than she could see. Sunlight poured over her, the wind sang songs in her ears. Instead of being frightened, she laughed with joy as she soared higher than birds had ever flown.

  How long, how far the kite carried her, Fragrance of Orchid could not guess. But now the kite began dipping slowly downward. She passed through towers and castles of clouds and saw, just below, the high peaks of mountains. The kite dropped toward the rocky face of the tallest, and the girl braced herself, expecting to be dashed against the crags. The kite, however, lowered her gently into a huge nest of branches, twigs, and leaves. The line slackened without her weight on it, and the kite glided down to land beside her.

  "So," Fragrance of Orchid said, "you've decided to come back, have you? Very well, you flew me here and you can fly me out again."

  She held the kite up, as she had often done before. It did not rise again. "Then," said Fragrance of Orchid, "I'll have to find my own way down."

  First, she thought of tying the kite string around one of the jagged rocks and lowering herself on it. She quickly calculated the string was too short to reach anywhere near the ground. Before she could devise some other means, she glimpsed a bird flying rapidly toward her.

  As it drew closer, she saw it was an enormous eagle. Its feathers glittered like burnished gold, its eyes flashed like diamonds, and its outspread wings beat so powerfully that wind whistled through the crags.

  Fragrance of Orchid forgot her own predicament to marvel at the sight. Never had she seen so magnificent a bird; nor was she frightened in the least when the eagle sped to the nest and landed at her side.

  Folding its wings, the eagle turned its eyes on Fragrance of Orchid, who gazed back in fascination. "What is this?" the eagle said. "A new chick in my nest?"

  Fragrance of Orchi
d was hardly surprised to hear the eagle speak, for she had always believed that birds could talk. So it seemed only natural, and no stranger than being carried away by a kite.

  "I am Niang-niang, she-eagle of Mount Wu-shan," the great bird continued. "And you are the fledgling Fragrance of Orchid."

  This surprised the girl more than anything else. "Yes, I am," she said, "but how is it that you know my name?"

  "I know many things," replied Niang-niang. "I have observed you often during my flights here and there. What I have not seen for myself, my fellow creatures of the air have told me. I know, for example, you shared your food with the winter birds when they found nothing to eat. I also know that once, in the bird market, you opened the cages. Oh, yes, and were punished for it, too."

  Fragrance of Orchid nodded, for all this was true. "Niang-niang," she replied courteously, "as you know so much, do you know one thing more? How shall I climb down from here and find my way home?"

  Niang-niang shook her golden head. "Little fledgling, I may not tell you. Nor am I certain you shall do so. Had you let go the kite string and let it fly free instead of clutching it, things would have gone otherwise. Now they are what they are and what they must be." Fragrance of Orchid had so far kept courage in the face of all that had happened. Hearing these words, however, she felt her heart must break, as now she feared she had lost kindred and home past recovery.

  "What is lost may, with hope, be found again," said Niang-niang, as if reading her thoughts. "Were I permitted, I would carry you where you wish. That is forbidden to me. I cannot change the path you follow, though it may or may not lead you back to earth.

  "Stay with me," the eagle urged. "The sky is vaster than the earth, as you will see. You, who have so loved and befriended all birds, would you not care to be one of us?"

  "How is that possible?" Fragrance of Orchid said. "Even if I wanted, I can't fly."

  "You can," said Niang-niang. The eagle then instructed the girl to untie the kite string and take firm hold of the wooden rods and struts that made the frame of the silken wings.

  "Now what shall I do?" asked Fragrance of Orchid, having followed Niang-niang's directions. "Very simple," Niang-niang said. "Climb from the nest. Dive into the air as if into a pool of water." Fragrance of Orchid hesitated. A glance at the ground so far below made her head spin. "Do as every fledgling must," Niang-niang said. "If you trust what I tell you, no harm will come to you."

  Fragrance of Orchid was fearful despite the eagle's reassurance. Nevertheless, plucking up her courage, she climbed over the rim of the nest, took a deep breath, and resolutely sprang into empty air.

  At first, she plummeted downward, gripping the spinning kite as she sped past the crags to the forest floor. Within moments, however, she felt the kite lift and begin to soar into the clouds. Her fear vanished and she laughed with joy as she swooped and circled, sailing on the air tides with Niang-niang flying beside.

  "Enough now, little fledgling," the eagle called. "You have begun well. There is much more to learn."

  Fragrance of Orchid reluctantly followed the eagle back to the nest, sorry to leave the air and eager to fly again. Niang-niang promised they would venture farther next time. And so Fragrance of Orchid curled up in the nest and slept that night under the soft warmth of the eagle's wing.

  Each day thereafter, Niang-niang brought the girl food and cared for her as if Fragrance of Orchid were an eaglet. And, each day, they flew still greater distances. Sometimes they joined flocks of sparrows, swallows, or ravens, who dipped their wings in recognition and called out fondly to the girl, delighted to see her among them in the sky.

  "You fly well," Niang-niang said. "Now you must learn to see, farther and clearer than you have ever done before."

  "Gladly," said Fragrance of Orchid, "but how shall I do so?"

  "Again, very simple," Niang-niang said. "To begin to see, you must first begin to look."

  Fragrance of Orchid puzzled over what Niangniang told her. Nevertheless, during their flights, she tried her best to look carefully at the fields, hills, and woodlands that spread beneath her. Little by little, her vision sharpened. One day, as they swooped through a bank of clouds, Fragrance of Orchid cried out in amazement:

  "I see fish swimming in the river! And there, a woman feeding chickens in a farmyard. And there, a town," she called, as they flew onward. "The houses, the streets. I see children racing. Ah, one of them tripped and skinned her knees! And there, a fruit seller giving change to a customer. I can count the coins in his hand." Fragrance of Orchid laughed. "It's not the right change, either. There's the buyer arguing. Now they've settled it."

  "Your eyes have grown almost as sharp as mine," said Niang-niang. "Having learned to see, now you must learn to understand."

  Girl and eagle continued their flights, farther and farther, sometimes resting on a mountain peak, sometimes flying all night long under moon and stars.

  "Are we still in the Kingdom of T'ang?" Fragrance of Orchid said. "Have we left it and crossed into some other kingdom?"

  "The first thing to understand," Niang-niang said, "is that there is no Kingdom of T'ang, nor any other realm. Do you see borders? Is one countryside so different from another? Is not a mountain a mountain, a tree a tree, wherever it may be? Kingdoms? They are pitiful inventions of humankind. They mean nothing to us. We see there is only the world itself, nothing more, nothing less."

  Fragrance of Orchid saw this, too, with her own eyes. Also, she saw much more. She saw the earth turn, from sunrise to sunset. She saw many mountains, and learned they sprang from the same root. She saw many rivers, and learned they were only arms of the same river; and that the greatest oceans merged with all other oceans.

  And so, Fragrance of Orchid, with the great eagle always at her side, lived her days aloft, sleeping in treetops or mountain peaks, setting foot on ground only to find food and drink.

  Each new sight and each new discovery delighted her. Happy though she was, her thoughts turned ever homeward. She wondered if, during her flights, she might someday catch sight of Grandmother Plum Blossom, and if they would be together again.

  "Even my keen eyes cannot see so far ahead," Niang-niang replied. Nevertheless, Fragrance of Orchid stayed watchful for any sign of Grandmother Plum Blossom.

  "If I look hard enough, and see dearly enough," said Fragrance of Orchid, "sooner or later I must find her."

  "If that is where your path leads you in the end," replied Niang-niang, "then you surely will."

  • • • • •

  Leaving Fragrance of Orchid high in the air, we now return to the ground, where we left Jen on his way to Chai-sang. Whether he reaches there or not, and what happens to him in the meanwhile, is told in the following chapter.

  19

  • Jen Holds An Umbrella •

  • Chen-cho Paints A Picture •

  • An Invitation To Dinner •

  FOR SOME DAYS AFTER LEAVING Grandmother Plum Blossom and Fragrance of Orchid, Jen pressed on toward Chai-sang. Sometimes he slept in the encampments of fleeing peasants and villagers, but as often as not, he bedded down in the underbrush amid the fallen leaves of autumn. Someone had given him a length of quilt. Nights, he rolled up in it; days, he wrapped it around his shoulders and belted it with a rope at his waist. A raw north wind had risen, nipping at him as he struck cross-country over fields crackling with morning frost under heavy purple clouds.

  The first snow showers began as he made his way through a narrow valley, past low brown hills and bare trees. Until now, after leaving the roads, he had come upon no other travelers. But here, beside a shallow stream, he stopped short. For all his discomfort, he could not help laughing.

  A young man in quilted jacket and felt cap with earflaps jutting like wings squatted on the turf. With one hand, he tried to keep a sheaf of papers from blowing away; with the other, he attempted to put up an umbrella. He was not succeeding at either task.

  "Don't stand there gawking and grinning, fool! Lend a
hand," the stranger called, just before the umbrella collapsed over his head and he disappeared into the folds..

  Jen hurried toward him, helping to keep the papers from flying off and to disentangle its owner from the octopus clutches of the umbrella.

  "Excellent. That should do it." Having crawled out, the youth securely raised his portable canopy and settled his cap on his head. "Untrustworthy contraption. It attacks me out of sheer malice. When I paint, I use it to keep the sun out of my eyes, you understand."

  "I'd understand better," Jen said, laughing, "if the sun were shining. It pleased you to call me a fool, but I wonder which of us is the greater."

  "I meant it only in a friendly sense. Since there are more fools than wise men, I assumed it more likely you were one of the former. But, you're right. No sun, of course not. I should have said snow. Let us now scrutinize and determine if my latest effort is completely ruined."

  Chen-cho, as he named himself, took up the scroll he had been working on. Jen saw the beginnings of a landscape painting, done with a few bold strokes and, here and there, splashes of muted earth colors. Unfinished, Jen recognized it was nonetheless beautifully done and complimented the artist on his work.

  "You like it? Tell me, then, what shall it be called?" Chen-cho was about Jen's age and stature, with a good natured face and quick, wry smile. The deep lines at the corners of his eyes may have resulted from squinting far into the distance or peering closely at his handiwork. "Ten Thousand Blotches? The snow drops have melted all over it. But-no, not ruined at all. Better than I could have done on purpose. Now, if your honorable self would favor me by holding this accursed umbrella over my head." Jen did as Chen-cho asked. The artist worked quickly, making the wet spots and stains a part of the picture. Jen shook his head in admiration. Chen-cho merely shrugged, declaring that someday he would do a better one. With that, he packed up his materials, balanced the umbrella on his shoulder like a spear, and invited Jen to come with him to the nearby village of Ping-erh.