The Dragon's Breath

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The Dragon's Breath Page 19

by James Boschert


  The other two could see what a harrowing moment this was for him, so they remained respectfully silent.

  Eventually Talon spoke. “We will leave you now, Master Sooh. Your family will be allowed to join you in the cabin next door, and our servants will bring clothes. Please rest, and know you have anything to fear. You are under our protection as long as you are with us.”

  Hsü resolved to teach Talon how to pronounce his name properly, but now was not the time.

  They showed him back to his cabin, where he joined Fuling and Jiaya. Both had been fed, and they now wore the same kind of clothes as the people on board the ship. Jiaya went to his knees and placed his head on the floor in obeisance to Hsü.

  “You appear to have appeased the barbarians, Master. We are very grateful for your courage.”

  Hsü refrained from rolling his eyes. This was something he found tedious: the eternal Ke Tou of the minions. “For the moment, Jiaya, just for the moment. They may decide to eat us a little later when their meat supplies run out.”

  It amused him to see Jiaya looking frightened again.

  Fuling remarked, “They are barbarians. Who can say what they will do to us? They might be pirates and wish to rob us before throwing us overboard.” He scowled at the door.

  There was a knock on the door just as he said this, which Hsü opened. It was a female servant, her head and face half covered with a brown cotton chador. She held out a tray of more hot tea in little cups for them. She also presented Hsü with a folded bundle of dry clothing. He smiled with gratitude.

  Hsü bowed his thanks as he took the tray and presented it to Fuling. “I doubt if the tea has been poisoned, but you should try it first just in case, my son.” He gave them the benefit of his small, wry smile as he watched their expressions. He sighed, more with exasperation at their needless fear than anything else.

  “They might be barbarians, or even pirates, but it is unlikely that those kind of people would have bothered to rescue us if they wanted to loot us; and look, they are feeding us and even giving us tea! I think we can trust them. Their leaders have assured me that we are under their protection while on board, so we have nothing to fear… at this point,” Hsü told them. He hoped he was right.

  *****

  Once the Chinese girl had woken up, Rav’an had managed, by dint of much hand waving and many smiles, to persuade her to allow them to dress her in one of the smaller dishdashas that they possessed. Rav’an observed that the girl was fine-boned and petite, with jet black hair that came down to her waist, and dark eyes that gazed out of a well-proportioned face, which, Rav’an supposed, might be considered beautiful in her own land. While Jannat brushed the girl’s hair, Rav’an ordered some tea; the cook had been able to do that much so far. Then they provided the girl with a wooden bowl of rice and lentils, with some shreds of meat on top. Having slept like the dead, the girl now seemed barely able to restrain herself as she gulped the food. Jannat pointed to her right hand and indicated that it was the only one she should use.

  They tried to talk to her, but she shook her head and murmured something in her own language. Then, when she had eaten and handed the bowl back to Rav’an, she asked a question. It sounded like “Meng Hsou? Meng Hsou?”

  There was a knock on the door and Talon poked his face inside. “We have been talking to the leader of their little group. His name is Meng Sooh, and she,” he pointed to Lihua, “is his concubine.”

  “I think she has been asking for him, Talon,” Rav’an said.

  “Ah, well, Salem can take her to the cabin next to ours, where they will be staying. I am going on deck,” he said.

  Then he nodded to Rostam. “Rostam, do you want to come up with me?” he asked the boy, who was looking less tired. “Rav’an, you will come too?”

  She nodded. “I am sure Jannat would like to go up as well.”

  Talon looked around and was astonished at how quickly Rav’an had managed to have the cabins cleaned up. The smell lingered, but was rapidly being replaced by fresh air from the open shutters. The soaking carpets were hanging out on the after railing to dry, much to the discomfiture of the captain, who felt embarrassed by all this bedroom clutter on his deck. Mattresses, mats and clothes were hung off ropes in such profusion that the after deck looked like a laundry shop, not a respectable ship, he complained to Talon when he came on deck.

  “We cannot live below in the damp, Captain. Even your bedding is hanging out there, I noticed,” Talon replied with a grin. “Tell the rest of the crew to do the same. Now that the sea is calmer we should open the gratings and allow the lower deck area to dry out, or we will have sickness below decks. I don’t want that, as we are short-handed as it is.”

  The captain had to agree with him, so he barked some orders at Abdullah and Umayr to comply with Talon’s request. Talon noticed Tariq standing in the waist with some men. His arm was in a sling.

  “He didn’t break anything, just wrenched it and banged his head. Tariq has a very hard head,” the captain told Talon.

  Soon even the waist of the ship was festooned with clothing and bedding brought up from below. The sun had made an appearance, which allowed the captain to take some readings before he went below to rest. The sun began to warm the sodden vessel and the sea settled down to a long swell. Soon the material hanging from every possible hook or line was steaming as it dried.

  Two hours later, Yosef appeared on deck at the front of the ship and waved urgently to Talon.

  “What is it, Yosef?” he called.

  “We have water below deck in the bow area, Talon. There is a leak somewhere.”

  The captain, who had come back on deck after a brief rest below, looked alarmed. He began to shout orders for the crew to get a line of buckets to bail the water. “I thought the ship looked somewhat down at the bows! We must find the leak and plug it as soon as we get enough of the water out, before it reaches our cargo and spoils it. We must hurry!”

  The crew, who had been lounging about, doing nothing and enjoying the warmth of the sun, were soon urgently applying themselves to bailing the sea water out of the forward compartments of the ship.

  Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,

  In the forests of the night,

  What immortal hand or eye

  Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

  —William Blake

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tyger! Tyger!

  On a hill situated above the port stood a building, more of a fortress really, surrounded by high stone walls. These thick walls enclosed several compounds and smaller houses, within which lived the most powerful man in the region. From this high elevation he could observe the entire port laid out below, and every ship that came and went.

  Sing and his personal guards strode along the roof of one of the buildings towards an opening in the floor that was barred with a heavy metal grate. Through the stout iron bars across the hatch, one could see a set of narrow steps leading down to a tunnel beyond.

  Not far from this entrance, just above a deep courtyard, there was a winch with a chain attached to the top of a gate, set into the wall beneath their feet. The gate could be raised and lowered from above. This was not what interested Sing at present. He wanted to descend the stair and pay a visit. A guard lifted the grating and let it fall with a clang onto the paved stones. Sing waited until one of the men carrying a torch brought it to illuminate the dank and narrow stairs ahead of them. Because he was taller than the average Malay, he had to duck as he stepped down into the tunnel to follow the torchbearer.

  Sing brought a small silk cloth out of a pocket and placed it over his nose to ward off the stench of a wild animal’s urine and feces, mingled with corrupting flesh, that wafted up from the depths of the interior. Clouds of flies in the yard below competed with the carrion birds that hopped about, tearing at rotting flesh.

  At the base of the steps the men made their way cautiously along a short, dank passage, wary of snakes, and careful of where they put their feet, as the
re were splintered bones strewn about the slippery, stony floor. Some even had flesh still clinging to them. Rats squealed and scuttled away into the dark recesses of the stone work. On their left, strongly set into the masonry, was the gate leading into the open air compound; but ahead of them stood a strong cage made of thick, iron bars.

  Something large moved within the cage, a somber shadow that came to its feet and turned to face the oncoming light and its jailers. In the flickering light of the torch the tiger glared at them, its teeth bared in a silent snarl. The black and dark yellow stripes along its pelt moved as though the stripes themselves were alive, and the light threw huge shadows onto the stone walls of its prison. The iron cage was small for such a huge cat, to the point of being cramped, which was what Sing wanted. The tiger’s yellow eyes were wide with hate and fear. It stared unblinking at the three men, its mouth half open, its fangs gleaming.

  Sing approached until he was two full paces away from the bars and the beast; he stared back at it with his own black eyes, assessing its mood.

  “There you are, my beauty,” he crooned. “Tonight you will feast; but first, we must put you in the right frame of mind.”

  He held out his hand to the guards, and one of the men handed him a long stick. Another went to the other end of the cage with a similar rod and waited his master’s command.

  The rods were about ten feet long, made of bamboo, and had at their tips a tiny but sharp metal point. Sing aimed it at the predator. The tiger, knowing what was coming, snarled and then gave out a deafening roar, attacking the solid bars of its cage. The noise from the enraged and frightened animal could be heard outside in the enclosed courtyard, causing the carrion birds to flap into the air and settle on the branches of a tree. They might have been frightened but were not yet ready to leave.

  Sing smiled. He prodded the tiger, which cringed and tried in vain to seize the end of the rod in its jaws, snapping and clawing; but Sing knew how to avoid its attempts, and every time the animal lashed out at his rod with its bared claws, the guard on the other side would prod it from another angle. The tiger shrank away from the stabbing points, but then, in its mounting rage, it leapt at the bars, causing them to shake as it reached through, trying to tear at its tormentors. Its roars were deafening in the confined space of the tunnel.

  By this time blood had been drawn, so Sing stopped and observed the state of the animal through slitted eyes. The animal was almost crazed with rage and pain, snarling furiously and trying in vain reach for him with its claws extended. Nodding with satisfaction, Sing turned and led the way back along the tunnel and up the stairs. His three assistants hastened to follow him. The enraged roars of the tiger were deafening in the confined space and made them eager to get out of that stinking place.

  Sing’s parting orders were, “Leave the gate below open to the yard pen and do not feed him. We need to have good entertainment tonight.”

  *****

  Later that evening, as dusk approached, a small crowd gathered on the ramparts of the walls overlooking the yard twenty feet below. The dusty compound was only thirty paces wide and somewhat longer, so the spectators, men and women, servants and armed guards, could see easily from one end to the other, even though in the middle grew two tall shady cengal kampung trees with smooth trunks. The servants of Sing’s palace all had a clear view of the raised gate beneath the pavilion, which was located high above the dusty ground of the compound.

  They were silent and apprehensive. An almost tangible atmosphere of dread pervaded the gathering. They all knew what was about to happen.

  Sing and ten of his men appeared on the steps of the pavilion overlooking the compound of death. Sing took a seat on the stone chair under the thatched roof, and his well-armed guards ranged themselves on either side of him.

  Sing lifted his hand, and from behind him came four more guards, holding two prisoners between them. One was a mere youth clad in only a loincloth who struggled hard against the firm grip of the burly guards; the other, a young woman of some beauty, had almost to be carried, she was so limp.

  The guards brought the two before Sing and dropped the woman to the flags in front of him, while the other two held the young man, preventing him from throwing himself at Sing. His handsome face was contorted with anger and fear as he tried desperately to marshal his courage in front of the person he so feared and hated.

  Sing languidly took a finger of Durian fruit, handed to him by an obsequious servant, and regarded the prisoner in silence before he turned his attention to the young woman, who had not moved. She lay on her knees in a state of semi-collapse in front of him with her head lowered. He frowned.

  “Ah, my beloved Huriyah, how could you betray me! How could you, when I could have given you anything? Riches, servants and more.”

  She lifted her tear-stained face as though to answer, but he snarled back at her. “Do not dare to say anything, you whore! You were found to be with this, this pig, and so you shall die together today as a warning to others,”

  She gave a small wail of pure terror and threw herself forward to clasp his jewel-studded slippers, trying to kiss them and weeping copiously.

  “My Lord, I beg of you, have mercy on me. Have mercy! Remember how much I have been to you!” She pointed to the youth behind her. “He meant nothing to me, nothing at all!” her fear was making her babble now. “I am carrying your child!” she screamed.

  He looked at her for a brief moment, and then barked a laugh. “Who knows whose child it is? For all I know, you have slept with everyone with a ready spear. Better this way, so I won’t have to worry about it.” He snickered at his own wit, then waved his hand in dismissal. The guards immediately seized her and dragged her away from his feet, supporting her upright as they stood by the other impassive guards. She was near to passing out with terror, as she knew there was no hope left, her cries of fear becoming more and more faint.

  The youth began to struggle again, shouting, “In God’s name, have mercy on her! Kill me! I deserve to die, but not her, my Lord. Spare her, I beg you!”

  Sing looked at him directly and the boy could see into the pitiless black eyes. “Why would I spoil a good spectacle and send only you to your death?” he asked rhetorically. He smiled thinly. “You two can meet up on the other side and continue with your liaison there!” He laughed again.

  The young man was weeping now, but with frustration as well as fear. He was still yelling and looking back over his shoulder as the guards hauled him to the edge of the rampart and then gave him a push. He toppled over, to land in an untidy heap on the ground. There was a gasp from the watching crowd standing on the walls on either side of the pavilion. The girl, by now in a dead faint, was tied with a rope and then lowered to the ground, where she lay on her side. The boy recovered his feet and stared back up at the people on the wall. There was no way back up unless he could scale the sheer walls of the compound.

  The murmur of the crowd rose in horrified anticipation. Sing glanced around; he knew that no matter how terrible the spectacle, people still watched. He smiled to himself and settled back. Then he made a chopping motion with his right hand. Two guards began to winch a chain up out of the paved floor behind him. The chain clinked slowly around the wooden barrel of the winch wheel as it hauled up another iron door deep inside the wall, which would release the animal held prisoner in the cage.

  In the pit the youth glanced at the girl, but then he spun around and stared at the dark opening of the tunnel. The iron grill was raised and he knew very well what that meant. He shot a glance at the tree in the middle of the yard. It presented the only safety there was. If he could gain enough height he might live a little longer. Hope was all he possessed, but again he looked at his former lover and hesitated.

  He ran to her, hastily untied the rope around her waist, then lifted her limp frame up into his arms and staggered towards the tree fifteen long paces away. The murmur of the crowd increased in volume as he ran with his burden, but then someone shouted an ala
rm and pointed. The youth heard the shout and knew in his stomach that he had run out of time. He hauled the girl onto her feet and pushed her hard towards the tree, now only four paces away. “Go, for your life! Save yourself!” he shouted at her.

  Huriyah awoke from her stupor and gave him a fearful look, then stared behind him. She let out a shriek and began to run. She reached the tree and began to try to scale its wide trunk. She slipped and clawed at the grease-slicked bark in a frenzy of terror.

  The youth, meanwhile, had turned to face his nemesis. The animal came out of the tunnel in a rush, then paused just outside the tunnel entrance, shaking its head and growling low in its throat. The myriad torches on the walls and the smell of many humans angered and confused it, but not for long. He focused on the two figures in the compound a few dozen paces in front of him. His tail twitched as though it had a life of its own, lashing wildly from side to side as he registered that they were down on the ground with him. He gave a roar that stilled every other sound in the night and then began to stalk the two humans. The girl screamed in sheer horror, but her former lover faced the king of cats, his eyes wide with fear. The animal, wary of humans, scented the stench of fear.

  The young man could not help himself; his bladder and bowels loosed and he voided himself, his terror was so great. He could hear his own teeth chattering as he eyed the huge predator moving towards him, its massive head close to the ground, its teeth bared in a half snarl, its tail stroking the ground behind it. The boy backed towards the tree, his arms wide in a futile gesture of defense; the girl was desperately trying to get some purchase on the tree behind him. He came close enough to feel her heat as she scrabbled at the slippery surface to no avail. In one reckless impulse, the boy spun around and lifted her up, then called to her in a hoarse voice.

 

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