The Dragon's Breath

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The Dragon's Breath Page 45

by James Boschert


  “Do you think he is dead?” Lihua asked. Her voice trembled.

  “Oh yes! He’s dead!” Rav’an gasped, still breathing heavily and prodded the body with its own knife. “Are you all right?” she asked Lihua, who was clutching her arm. Blood was seeping down her arm and dripping off her elbow onto the already bloody floor.

  Jannat gave out a choked off laugh that bordered on hysteria. She was shaking and reached out to hold onto Rav’an who gave a deep sigh of relief and clutched her back.

  “I didn’t know you could swear just like Reza!” Jannat giggled, as she held onto her friend. Both women started to laugh, but then looked over at Lihua, who, wide-eyed, was staring at the dead man. She was beginning to shake. Jannat slid across the floor and embraced her. “It’s all right, Lihua; the danger is past.” Lihua slumped into her arms, trying not to weep.

  Rav’an was not so sure they were safe yet and was about to get to her feet when there was the sound of rapid footsteps outside. Yosef charged into the room.

  He took in the situation at a glance: the women on the floor and the body lying nearby with blood everywhere. “My Lady,” he croaked, “are you all right?”

  Rav’an gave him a shaky smile and tried to tuck her fallen hair back over her ears. “Yes, Yosef, I think so, but Lihua here is wounded. There might be others,” she waved a hand at the dead man and then at the balcony. “You should make sure.”

  *****

  While they waited, Reza thought about the people who were behind all this. From what he could deduce from conversations with Talon and Hsü, the man called Hua Rong was deeply involved. They had recovered the box from his office, and now people were either trying to recover the evidence or making another attempt to steal the gems. They were not particular how they obtained what they were seeking, either. Reza mentally tipped his hat to Hsü; the man seemed to be able to anticipate his enemies and friends alike.

  He was interrupted by loud female yells and screams from above and behind him. Dar’an was desperately trying to get his attention. “Reza! They are trying to get in from the other side, come quickly!” he called.

  Reza told Fuling to stay with Fang and rushed silently up the stairs to where Dar’an was standing. He pointed urgently to the entrance to a bedroom, from which came a dim light.

  “Keep watch on Fang and the gate,” he ordered Dar’an, and rushed into the room. He saw Rav’an kneeling on the floor, and Jannat holding Lihua around her shoulders. Lihua was choking back tears and supporting her arm, which was covered in blood. A dark, motionless figure lay sprawled on the floor nearby and seemed to be quite dead.

  Checking quickly to see that Rav’an and Jannat were all right, he hastened to the open doorway and the balcony beyond. Yosef was already there, peering down at the garden below in the darkness. There was no sign of anyone else lurking in the bushes, so Yosef hauled up the rope that was still attached to the rail and dropped it on the floor of the room.

  “I have not seen anyone, Reza but this is how he got in.” He showed Reza the rope.

  Reza nodded. “Stay here and keep watch,” he told Yosef, and turned back into the room.

  “I think you dealt with the problem, Rav’an,” he complimented her.

  “We need to help Lihua, she is hurt,” Rav’an said. She sounded shaken.

  “Take care of her. I’ll look around,” he said, and patted her reassuringly on the arm. “I want to hear all about it later.” He grinned and left the room to check on other areas of the house.

  Jannat joined Rav’an, who bound up Lihua’s wound and said, “You are so very brave, Lihua. I’m glad he didn’t do worse to you.”

  Lihua bit back some tears and said, “I was terrified! Can you help me move my Lady Meng?”

  Turning, they found the old lady, still sitting quietly in the darkness of the corner by the wardrobe. She had witnessed all that had happened. The three of them lifted Lady Lanfen up and carried her to her chair. When they had made sure she was comfortable, Lihua left the room to find some servants to help dispose of the body.

  While she was away, Lady Lanfen said to Rav’an, pointing at the body, “That took great courage. Are all the women warriors like you where you come from?”

  Rav’an gave a small laugh. “No, my lady, but when you have been around Talon and Reza you soon learn to be. Don’t forget that it was Lihua here who finished him. She is very brave.”

  “Yes, I would agree with you there,” the old lady said with a smile.

  *****

  After inspecting the rest of the upper story of the house, moving as silently as a ghost, Reza arrived back at the entrance to join Fang and Fuling at the gate.

  “Nothing yet, Reza,” Fuling said quietly. He had no sooner said this than they heard a shout from the stables and the clear sound of swords clashing. Men were fighting; but who?

  All of a sudden, men in dark clothes and masked faces appeared out of the dark in front of them. Reza estimated that they outnumbered his group three to one. This was not just an attempt to steal something, these people had come to harm the family Meng. Fang, who at last had a clear target, gave a great shout and charged recklessly to meet the men running towards them. Fang, screaming madly, his sword a whirlwind of flashing steel, cut and parried and struck with amazing speed.

  Reza put a restraining hand on Fuling’s shoulder. “Don’t move. You will be cut to pieces by Fang if you do. Wait a moment.”

  Then he said, “Now!” Both of them hurled themselves forward, swords readied. Above them on the balcony Dar’an snarled with frustration; he could not see clearly enough to shoot his arrows from there.

  Reza took one man down immediately, while Fang slew his third. Their enemies suddenly found themselves fighting for their lives; then another group appeared out of nowhere and rushed to join the mêlée, the leader shouting at Fang in Chinese, and they joined in the ferocious battle. For a few mad seconds there was the ring of blade on blade, the sickening sound of blades cutting through flesh, and the screams and groans of the men struck.

  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the fight was over; enemy men lay dead or dying all around them. Only two men were left standing.

  Reza looked around for Fang. Someone held up a lantern for them to see, and Fuling found him lying face down, draped over two men whom he had just slain, still clutching his sword. When Reza turned him over he lay limp and without motion, nor was he breathing.

  “This is the doing of that man Hua Rong!” Fuling ground out as he squatted next to Fang’s body. “I’d like to kill him with my bare hands!” he raged, swiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

  “Are you sure?’ Reza asked him. He looked down at the body of the man he had come to respect and placed a light hand on Fuling’s shoulder. “He was a great warrior, Fuling.”

  Fuling nodded with his head down. “Yes, I am sure,” he mumbled, then nodded. “Yes, Fang was a great warrior.”

  Someone came and stood near them. “He died as he would have wanted to doe, fighting for his Lord and dying with honor,” a new voice said.

  Reza looked up. The man standing over them was dressed in dark clothes like the enemy, and his face was covered to the eyes, but even as Reza tensed he recognized his instructor from the dojo, Qian.

  “Thank you for coming, Qian. Who did you bring with you?” Fuling asked him.

  Speaking slowly for Reza’s benefit Qian said, “Our teaching seems to have paid off for you, Master Reza. I brought Hedé, Liu, and four students who need the practice. Fang sent us a message. I am sorry we did not get here earlier.”

  “Ah, now I understand.” Fuling shook his head tiredly. “At least now he will know peace,” he said, looking down at his bodyguard.

  “We must secure the house and the yard, Fuling,” Reza reminded him. For the rest of the night they kept vigil, and with the dawn began the hard work of cleaning up after the battle and laying Fang out.

  *****

  Several days later, the morning at the office of Hua
Rong the Chief of Police began much as it always did. He arrived in a palanquin and walked up to his office, where his secretary presented him with a pile of papers, while a pretty young woman prepared tea for him to sip while contemplating the sins of the city. He enjoyed watching her as she carried out the task. He prided himself in his taste of women and decided he might very well take her this evening if he was in the mood. He had to attend an execution that day. The Governor couldn’t, because he was still bed-bound, so it fell to him to appear and witness the final moments of the sentenced prisoners. He always found that distasteful; the girl would be a good antidote to the unpleasantness of the execution.

  He did not anticipate with any relish the endless stream of supplicants who continued to come, day in day out, to ask for favors: asking for money or, heaven forbid, for redress for crimes committed against them by the numerous villains in the city.

  He sent for his secretary, ordering him not to disturb him and giving him the task of bringing the Arab contingent to his office the next day for a conference. They were still whining about the taxes imposed upon their vessels for anchorage in the roads of the river. They would doubtless say that if they could sell their goods and leave they should be allowed to. He shook his head and smiled to himself. It simply didn’t work like that.

  Then Lin appeared, and he knew from his henchman’s expression that his day was ruined.

  “What happened this time?” he asked, his stomach lurching painfully.

  “So sorry, my Lord, but as you know, Buwei sent his men in last night,” Lin said in a low voice.

  “And what?” Rong almost shouted. “Do not tell me they also failed!” He gripped the side of the table with white knuckles.

  Lin looked frightened. “They were nearly all killed, Lord. Only two got away, and they were wounded.”

  “Get out! Get out of my sight!” Rong snarled, thumping his fist onto the table, which shuddered. Lin vanished.

  He had to think. This was an utter disaster. He mopped his sweating forehead with a cloth as he frantically searched for answers in his mind. He had to find Buwei as soon as he could, but he needed to think first.

  Rong didn’t hear the door open, but he felt a presence. He looked up. Someone strange was standing over him. “What do you want?” he demanded.

  A few minutes later a man dressed the same as any of the secretaries made his way through the crowded offices and out onto the street. No one had noticed the man going into Rong’s office, nor leaving it.

  A few minutes later, Reza and Fuling were being rowed back across the river and Reza was casually watching the river traffic and tugging at his new, extra-long mustache. Fuling was consumed with curiosity. “What happened? What did he say?” he demanded.

  Reza shrugged. “Well, we didn’t really talk. My Chinese isn’t very good. But... I think Fang would have been pleased.”

  *****

  About a half hour later, the girl walked into the office with another pot of tea and found Rong. Her reverberating screams were heard all the way down to the first floor entrance. Guards came sprinting up the stairs two at a time, and secretaries hurried to the doorway of Rong’s office. The crowd at the door gasped with horror at the sight, and one eunuch even fainted.

  Rong’s body was slumped back in his chair with his head thrown back; a trickle of blood had flowed out of the corner of his mouth and dribbled down the exquisite stitching of his tunic collar. His sightless eyes were staring up at the ceiling and there were two bloody chop sticks protruding from the front of his exposed throat.

  “Never give a sword to a man who cannot dance.”

  —Confucius

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Spirit of The Dragon

  Talon and Hsü walked down the mountain early the next morning after bidding the abbot and his monks farewell. Talon was looking forward to the ride home, and so was Hsü, but he was preoccupied with his coming battle for the position of governor.

  Neither was paying much attention to their surroundings as they came down the final slope to the inn, until Talon looked up and noticed there were many more horses near the inn than before, but no signs of life. He checked and was about to point this out to Hsü, who had stopped because Talon had done so, when an arrow thudded into a tree very close to his head.

  Both men immediately dropped onto one knee and scanned the bushes ahead. They stared at one another in surprise, but they were left in no doubt that they were under attack when another arrow landed in the dirt right between them.

  “We are ambushed!” exclaimed Hsü, and rolled off to his right. Talon dived after him and then they both scrambled for denser cover in some bushes, just below the pathway down the steep slope. More arrows were thudding into the trees and the ground around them. Talon was not impressed with the archery but didn’t want to test it too far.

  There was a shout from the bushes nearby which didn’t sound like Chinese. “They are Mongols!” Hsü gasped in a bewildered tone. “What by heaven are they doing here?”

  Talon shook his head. He had no idea, but one thing was certain: they mustn’t be captured; they had to flee. They scuttled into the bushes as more shouts rose, followed by the sounds of pursuit.

  Without warning, the ground in front of them fell away in a dizzying drop to the river below. They both teetered on the very edge, staring down at the pools and raging rapids far below, as the sounds of pursuit drew closer.

  “Dear God!” Talon exclaimed, looking around him desperately for another avenue of escape. Hsü was doing the same, and then he pointed. There were several Mongols on foot climbing the only route they might have taken down the other side of the hill away from their ambushers. The Mongols hadn’t yet seen them and were shouting up to their companions, who were still hidden by the dense undergrowth above them and beyond the two fugitives.

  Talon glanced again at the the fast flowing river below and had a moment of vertigo. It seemed a very long way down. Hsü clutched at his arm. “We are dead if we stay,” he said; there was a frantic note to his voice. “They don’t seem to want to negotiate. We have to jump. Ahmida Buddha protect us!”

  Talon agreed, although it took every ounce of will power for him to stand and contemplate what they were about to do. “Then we jump! I will see you in the water, There is a pool just below; try and land in that, and then perhaps God will protect us,” he said. Dear God, but it seemed such a long way down!

  They launched themselves from the cliff. Talon just heard a shout from behind them as they did so, and another arrow sailed over their heads, but he wasn’t paying it any attention. His stomach lurched into his throat and he couldn’t breathe. His mouth was wide open in a silent scream and his legs and arms were flailing as he tried desperately to stay upright while he fell what seemed an impossible distance. He knew instinctively that should he land any other way than feet first he was dead. This was his only hope.

  He forgot about the flailing, roaring man next to him as the long drop ended abruptly with a numbing splash into the raging waters of the river. He plunged deep into the icy torrent, and then felt himself being swept along the bottom across sharp stones and being turned over by the fierce current. He didn’t have a moment to congratulate himself for surviving the fall; it was taking all his strength not to drown in the fierce torrent. He felt himself being hammered against rocks, and whatever breath he might have had when he fell in was pounded out of his lungs. Just before he was about to pass out, he surfaced. He gulped in one huge, agonized breath, and then went under again; then he resurfaced and managed with a great effort to keep his head above water. He shook his head to clear the water and his hair from his eyes.

  The water was shallower here and narrower, although the current was still dragging at him with a strong, irresistible pull towards some rapids. He failed to get his legs under him and gave up, allowing the river to take him feet first down stream. Now he was able to cast a desperate look around him for Hsü. Where was he? Had he died in the fall? He turned hi
s head to look behind him and thought he saw something surface, but then it took all his attention to prevent himself from being beaten unconscious on the rocks of the rapids that sent the water foaming and spraying. He thought he heard a cry from up stream, but the roar of the water drowned out all other sounds.

  He was astounded that he had survived what he estimated must have been a sixty foot drop. Then he realized that the river had widened and was taking him past the inn, which was set some way back from the bank on a slope among trees. Had he been in the water that long? He suddenly panicked and grabbed at his sword in his waist-band, breathing a huge mental gasp of relief. It was still there, but now he worried that it might come loose and fall out.

  It seemed prudent to allow the current to take him a little way past the inn, after which he made a desperate effort to swim to a small pebbly beach, overhung by some dense undergrowth and weeping willows. Reaching one tree, he seized the branches which brushed the water and hung on, almost too exhausted and chilled to do more. He got his legs under him and tried for the bottom, and found that he could just touch it with his feet; the water here was neck deep. He managed to keep his balance, and then began to haul himself towards the bank. It looked as though it would provide good cover if he could just reach it.

  Then he heard a low cry and turned his head to see Hsü being swept towards him. Talon barely had time to put out his arms when Hsü slammed into him and they both went under. Talon grabbed onto Hsü’s tunic and hung on until Hsü was able to right himself in the rushing water. Talon reached up for the branches of the weeping willow again and hung on. Hsü gasped and choked, then clutched at Talon.

  “We have to get out of sight,” Talon wheezed. The effort of getting to the bank had taken much of his strength. “I don’t think they know we are here, yet,” he croaked.

  They dragged themselves onto the narrow pebbled beach, gasping for breath and moaning with relief. “I didn’t think we would survive that,” Hsü muttered with a weak grin at Talon, who grimaced. “We still have the Mongols to deal with,” he replied. He crawled up the bank and peered over the edge; all was quiet ahead of him. “I wonder if they saw us jump?” he said.

 

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