Ten Thousand Thorns_A Fairy Tale Retold

by Suzannah Rowntree

  Clouded Sky jumped back to his feet, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst. The Imperial Sword, however, did not press his advantage.

  “You’re wounded,” he rasped in a whisper. “Give up, or you will be freed from illusion tonight!”

  Clouded Sky only laughed and attacked again. Once more, he changed his direction partway through a stance and launched an unpredictable attack. The Imperial Sword gave a grunt of surprise and shifted clumsily to block the attack, but the black sword was too heavy and too powerful for his slim, supple sword. There was a flash of internal force and the Emperor’s sword broke with a sharp, flat snap. The black sword bit into the Imperial Sword’s upper arm.

  The masked man seemed barely affected by the shallow wound as he leaped into the air and soared onto the nearest rooftop. Clouded Sky’s lightness skill was not so profound. He dashed away in the same direction, searching for a path up, keeping his eyes fixed on the shadow flitting across the rooftops. A railed entrance on one side of the alley gave him his chance. He leaped from the ground to the rail, from the rail to the wall opposite, and rebounded from the wall to the rooftops.

  Not far ahead the Imperial Sword raced toward the temple area. Clouded Sky stooped as he ran, snatched up the roof-tiles, and hurled them after him. Tiles sang and cracked all around them. The masked man launched himself from the roof and sailed directly across the temple courtyard.

  Clouded Sky reached the edge of the roof just as the moon vanished behind a cloud. Darkness fell on Wudang Mountain.

  Under a glowing lantern on the far side of the courtyard, Harmonious Virtue stood in a small huddle with his martial brothers: Taoist Priests Venerable Peace, Filial Thoughts, Incipient Favour, Loyal Prudence and Leaping Intellect. In the disciples’ sleeping quarters to Clouded Sky’s immediate left, more lamplight showed as shutters creaked open and curious faces peeped out. But the Imperial Sword had vanished into the darkness.

  An ancient woman, no doubt one of the travellers fleeing to the monastery for refuge, got up from the verandah near the priests and hobbled painfully across the courtyard. Her stick clacked loudly against the stones until she reached the foot of the temple’s high terrace and laid herself down again with a rusty sigh.

  It was a scene of peace and tranquillity, the night silence undisturbed, as though no one had heard his cries for help, as though the imperial guards had been no more than ghosts. Yet the wound in his side proved it was not an illusion.

  Clouded Sky let himself down into the courtyard and ran to his sect elders.

  “Shifu!”

  Harmonious Virtue turned toward him.

  “Clouded Sky? Ah—I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Sound the alarm,” he panted. “Snow Wind is here. I think he’s after Iron Maiden!”

  He tried to pass them, aiming for the guesthouse, but to his amazement, Harmonious Virtue’s staff swept out and caught him by the ankles. Clouded Sky crashed to the ground and rolled over with a groan of pain. At once, six uncompromising feet landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground. He looked up into a ring of stony faces.

  “My disciple,” Harmonious Virtue said calmly, “it is unwise to create wind and fire before all facts are known.”

  Clouded Sky stared at him uncomprehendingly. Then, slowly, he began to understand what he had seen. An unguarded gate. Peace reigning even after his shouts to raise the alarm. Sect disciples looking out at their windows, hearing the commotion but keeping to their cells.

  Iron Maiden, complaining that when she asked for him they told her he was not there.

  “Everything is under control,” said Taoist Priest Leaping Intellect.

  “No,” Clouded Sky whispered. “You couldn’t…”

  In the distance a commotion suddenly arose. It was the sound of battle: shouts, grunts, the wind of powerful palm and sabre strokes. Clouded Sky tried to push off the ground.

  “Please! They’re going to kill her!”

  Harmonious Virtue removed his foot from Clouded Sky’s chest and kneeled to look him in the eye.

  “No, my disciple. They are not going to kill her, any more than we will allow them to kill you.”

  Clouded Sky searched his shifu’s face.

  “You let them in,” he whispered.

  “One cannot pour oil without tipping the bottle, Clouded Sky. Sometimes a little disruption is necessary to achieve a desired goal.”

  “But why?”

  Harmonious Virtue lifted a hand and the Sect Elders stood back. When he had helped Clouded Sky to his feet, the priest stared at the pavement for a while, as if collecting his thoughts. Finally he sighed and lifted his head.

  “My disciple, the Vastly Martial Emperor has the Mandate of Heaven. It is our duty to assist him.”

  3.

  “The Mandate of Heaven?” Clouded Sky looked at his shifu in horror.

  “It is our duty to obey the emperor’s commands since he is placed over us by Heaven. Iron Maiden has defied Heaven and broken the emperor’s law.”

  “So did I! Are you going to hand me over to them?”

  “No, no—”

  “Why not? There’s a price on my head too! Does Heaven want you to turn me in? What about the Mount Jing troops? Where does this end?”

  “As long as the emperor does not require us to commit personal unrighteousness—”

  Distantly, a shriek of pain rose into the sky. Iron Maiden.

  Clouded Sky groaned and grabbed at his sword.

  “Please, shifu, there’s no time…” He tried to break through the encircling elders, but Harmonious Virtue repelled him with a palm strike to his chest.

  “My disciple, Miss Iron has raised tigers and made trouble for herself.”

  “But they’ll kill her. Please, shifu!” He was begging now, tears in his eyes, willing them to listen. To spare him the burden of this choice.

  “They have promised not to harm her,” Harmonious Virtue said quickly.

  “They promised? I promised she would be safe here!”

  “It was not a decision we made lightly,” put in Taoist Priest Leaping Intellect.

  “She will indeed be safe. That was part of the agreement,” Harmonious Virtue added.

  “You ought to be more grateful!” said Taoist Priest Filial Thoughts. “They wanted you as well! It was only by promising them that you would neither intervene, nor leave this temple for the next year, that they agreed to let you live.”

  Clouded Sky’s voice cracked.

  “You would keep me a prisoner?”

  “Disciple! No!” Harmonious Virtue held up his hands appealingly. “We will not keep you anywhere against your wishes, but we beg you to remain. If you leave you will die. If you stay you will live, and I can die with confidence that Wudang Sect will continue under your leadership.”

  Clouded Sky felt that he was being torn inexorably in two pieces.

  “Continue? What for? Why should we continue, when we have failed to do justice, to help the needy, and to rely humbly on Heaven?”

  “Clouded Sky! You speak disrespectfully!” Leaping Intellect scolded him.

  “Hush, martial brother,” said Harmonious Virtue. “Clouded Sky is concerned for his friend. But hear me, young disciple. How have we lost our purpose? No matter who holds the Mandate of Heaven, Wudang Sect must continue guiding disciples toward heavenly enlightenment. Only then will All-Under-Heaven experience a small amount of peace, prosperity, and harmony!”

  “Shifu, you were the one who taught us to rely on Heaven in all things.” It was as though everything he had ever believed had turned to sand and was flowing away from his grasp. “Are you saying now that we can’t win?”

  “Disciple, Old Tze has truly said, ‘Give evil nothing to oppose, and it will disappear by itself.’”

  “If that were true, then how can it be the duty of every righteous hero to punish injustice?”

  Harmonious Virtue bent his head. Sadly, he said: “Although one can understand the truth, sometimes one just
can’t bear it.”

  Clouded Sky closed his eyes in utter bewilderment. If this was truly the Way, then only two choices were left to him. Either he must watch as they dragged Iron Maiden into captivity. Or he must abandon enlightenment, righteousness, and Heaven itself. Another cry of pain split the air. In that piercing call for help, he found the one solid thing that he could trust. Clouded Sky opened his eyes and cupped his fists.

  “Honoured shifu, you have convinced me. The true Way is to stand by and do nothing.” He took a ragged breath. “Please accept humble disciple’s apologies. I can no longer live my life according to your teachings.”

  “Clouded Sky! No! If you do this it will be the end of Wudang Sect!”

  “The Emperor will destroy us!” Filial Thoughts added.

  “I suppose he knows best.” Clouded Sky stepped backward, looking for a way out of their encirclement. “After all, he was appointed by Heaven!”

  “Foolish child! Listen to your masters!” Leaping Intellect lifted his hands. Hidden projectiles hissed from pipes hidden in his sleeves.

  Clouded Sky threw himself backward, deflecting the darts with his sword. Taoist Priest Incipient Favour grabbed a whip made of linked blades from his belt and uncoiled the razor-sharp lash toward him. Clouded Sky twisted to avoid the blades. The whip flickered about his body, forcing him to dance like a phoenix to avoid it. In a moment, he saw his chance and struck with his sword, severing the whip as he would a venomous snake.

  He straightened, breathing hard, and found that he was still surrounded by Wudang Sect’s six elders. All of them had drawn weapons. Leaping Intellect held hidden-projectile pipes in each hand. Incipient Favour swung his truncated whip. Venerable Peace carried paired hooks, while Loyal Prudence, Filial Thoughts, and his own master, Harmonious Virtue, had drawn their swords.

  How could he defeat them all?

  “Shifu, please let me pass!”

  “Iron Maiden has a wolf’s aggression and a dog’s bark,” Harmonious Virtue said sadly. “We promised we would allow no interference.”

  They waited. In the silence, Clouded Sky could no longer hear the sounds of battle from the guesthouse. Desperately, he flung himself at Leaping Intellect, unleashing one of the ferocious sword stances he’d discovered watching Iron Maiden’s sword style. It was a feint stance, but he followed it through with an attack. His sword flashed with energy as it flickered out, stabbing the priest’s Heaven’s Gate acupoint. With a scream of pain, Leaping Intellect crumpled to the stones.

  Clouded Sky froze in horror.

  “Martial uncle! Are you all right?”

  At once he felt a killing aura flame out behind him. He twisted just a moment too slow. Loyal Prudence’s sword opened a long shallow cut on his shoulder at the same moment that Venerable Peace’s hooks caught and held the blade of the black sword.

  Clouded Sky swung his sword, pivoting around to put Venerable Peace between himself and the other elders. With both hooks grappling Clouded Sky’s sword, Venerable Peace was unable to defend himself properly from the kick Clouded Sky unleashed at his chest, even as he twisted the sword between the twin blades. Crack! The hooks shattered in a blaze of sparks and Venerable Peace flew through the air.

  Clouded Sky had no time to incapacitate the old priest further. His remaining martial uncles adopted the Four Pillars formation, two of them attacking, two defending. Two of the swordsmen, Loyal Prudence and Filial Thoughts, attacked in unison, their swords singing in the wind and flashing with energy. Meanwhile, Incipient Favour and Harmonious Virtue, one with his shortened whip and the other with sword, focused on blocking all of Clouded Sky’s attacks.

  Fighting in formation, the four priests were unbeatable. Even the small enlightenment Clouded Sky had gained fighting Iron Maiden would not avail him. The Sect Elders’ martial arts were subtle and devastating, the very zenith of Wudang Sect ability. Step by step, they forced him backward across the courtyard and toward the temple steps.

  Blood seeped from Clouded Sky’s wounds, weakening him further with every movement. He could no longer contemplate attack. As his energy drained, it was all he could do to defend himself. When he blocked one sword, another threatened. The end could not be far.

  Then it came.

  Loyal Prudence struck from his left, and Clouded Sky jumped aside to evade the sword. His foot caught on something and he fell sideways into the shadow of the temple’s high terrace.

  Right on top of something soft, which squawked when he fell.

  It was the old lady he had seen crossing the courtyard not long before, now curled up to sleep. As he rolled away she gave a cry of outrage, got to her elbow and lashed out with her staff. With a ringing snap, Loyal Prudence’s sword broke in two pieces.

  “Oh, how dare you!” the old lady cried. “Did no one ever teach you young people to respect your elders?” She rose panting to her feet. “What do you Wudang Sect Elders mean by ganging up on this young man? I heard you! Mandate of Heaven, indeed!”

  “Old Madame.” Harmonious Virtue bowed in deference to her greater age. “This is a matter of Wudang Sect discipline. Kindly step aside!”

  “Step aside? Nothing would give me greater pleasure! Unfortunately, I have a message for you from Heaven.”

  “A message from Heaven?”

  The old lady gave a brisk nod. Then she launched into the midst of them with her staff humming like a dragonfly. Crack! crack! crack! crack!

  She sank into a crouch, her staff tucked under her right elbow, two fingers of her left hand extended.

  There was a sound like heavy rain as weapons and Wudang Sect Elders fell to the ground.

  With a quick motion the old lady stood up, set her staff on the ground, and leaned on it—once again seeming to be a harmless beggar. Clouded Sky gaped.

  “Well, clumsy? What are you waiting for?”

  “Honoured madame! I thank you!” Clouded Sky cupped his fists, and then ran for the guesthouse.

  He pelted through a narrow alleyway on the far side of the temple courtyard and emerged into the courtyard facing the guesthouse. Immediately he saw signs that a terrible battle had taken place. Light streamed out of a window whose shutters had been burst open. Outside, some of the paving-stones were shattered with the force of palm or weapon strikes. Three imperial guards in night-travellers’ outfits lay dead on the ground.

  Scraps of white fabric from Iron Maiden’s sleeves littered the pavement. When Clouded Sky picked up one of the pieces, he saw in the faint light that it was dark with blood along the torn edge.

  One leap took him through the broken window into the lamplight beyond. Clearly, the battle had begun here. The room was a wreck, littered with smashed pottery and splintered wood. Even the stone pillow had been lifted from its place and hurled at an enemy. Now it was embedded deep within the wall.

  There was no sign of Iron Maiden.

  Clouded Sky stood motionless, clenching the bloody scrap of fabric in his hand. He had failed. Again. Now, because he hadn’t listened to her, because his martial arts were not good enough, another of his friends was in the hands of the Emperor.

  Something scuffled behind him. He turned with a wild sword swing, but the blade skipped ineffectually off a staff.

  It was the old lady from the temple courtyard.

  “They took her,” he gasped.

  “Perceptive.” The old lady raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Do about it?” he repeated stupidly. The next step had not even entered his mind yet. He was only just beginning to realise how exhausted he was, how painfully his wounds ached in the cold. “What can I do about it?”

  “Go to Ten Thousand Thorns Temple to finish her quest.”

  “Go to—no! I don’t know the way. Shifu promised Iron Maiden would be kept alive. I have to find her first.”

  Thwack! The old lady’s staff rapped him painfully on the ankle.

  “The function of the mind is to think! Must I do it all myself? Go west, to Ten
Thousand Thorns Temple. That’s where they’ll be taking her.”

  “Why?” There still seemed to be a fog of exhaustion in his mind. “Do they want to wake Princess Morning Light too?”

  The old lady stared at him. And then it dawned on him.

  “They want the Heaven-Relying Dragon-Slaying Sword Skill! They want the Golden Phoenix Sword!”

  “If Morning Light is permitted to return to the martial arts world, it may be the end of the Vastly Martial Emperor’s wars in the west! Of course they want to reach her first.”

  “And they’ll keep Iron Maiden alive long enough to find the Temple.” Clouded Sky wiped his sword and returned it to its sheath. “All I have to do is follow them!”

  He rushed out of the guesthouse. The old lady listened to the echoes of his retreating footsteps, then settled herself under the verandah for a nap.

  The sun rose that morning into a clear sky, sending golden shafts of light and shadow streaking through the tree-trunks. Just south of Wudang Mountain it ran between the legs of horses and stole through the bamboo bars of a cage mounted on a cart.

  With each movement the cage squeaked, and a pattern of shadow and light wavered over the unconscious shape inside. Iron Maiden. The sun ran careful fingers over her pale cheek and found an answering warmth under her skin. It tiptoed gently over the blood staining her dress and illuminated the slow breath which fogged the crisp morning air.

  Then the cart passed under the trees and it lost her.

  Perhaps it was the sudden cold that woke her. Iron Maiden groaned and shifted. Watching from his mounted vantage-point, the Imperial Sword readjusted the mask that covered his face and directed his men to turn aside under the trees.

  When the cart stopped Iron Maiden groaned again, gingerly pressing a hand to the gash across her ribs. Despite the pain stabbing through her body, she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

  A white horse tethered behind the cart huffed welcomingly.

  “Flying Crane?” she murmured, then looked up at the Imperial Sword. “You stole Flying Crane!”

  “I have the emperor’s personal authorisation to take whatever actions seem necessary, Miss Iron.” The Imperial Sword dismounted, unhooked a waterskin from his saddle, and held it toward her. “Are you thirsty?”