Tiger

by Jeff Stone

  “Get this thing off me!”

  Fifty soldiers rushed forward, and an entire village ran backward. An entire village, that is, except for the Drunkard, the Governor, and Ma.

  Get out of here!” the Governor shouted at Ma, his eyes fixed on the advancing soldiers. “This is no place for you.”

  “Sure it is,” Ma said stubbornly “I know how to fight.”

  “Listen to me,” the Governor said. “This is not a game. Leave, now!”

  “NO!”

  With the soldiers nearly upon them, the Governor did what he knew in his heart was best. He turned and kicked Ma in the backside as hard as he could, sending him flying out of harm's way. Ma sailed all the way to the outer edge of the group of villagers, and several village men grabbed him tightly to keep him from joining in the attack. Ma thrashed about violently, but found he could do nothing more than watch as the Governor ran to the cage to free Fu while the Drunkard stood his ground in front of Captain Yue and the horse. The soldiers divided into two ranks. Twenty-five men ran after the Governor. Twenty-five swarmed the Drunkard.

  “Have you ever seen Drunken kung fu?” asked the Drunkard with a grin as he began to stumble around within the surging mass of soldiers. His attackers lunged inward—two and three at a time—with swords and spears. The Drunkard responded by wobbling and hobbling this way and that, bouncing unpredictably off the soldiers, one at a time. To the soldiers' complete surprise, the Drunkard's erratic movements were impossible to hit with spear or sword, and every time he stumbled into a man, that man was hurled to the ground with tremendous force. One of the soldiers even fired his qiang at the large, swaying target but missed cleanly. The soldiers were so occupied with trying to subdue the staggering Drunkard, none of them noticed that his seemingly random movements led the group farther and farther away from the villagers.

  Unlike the Drunkard, the Governor didn't fare so well. In fact, he didn't stand a fighting chance. In the blink of an eye, he was beaten down by the second mob of ruthless soldiers and left barely conscious. A key swung loose from behind the folds of his robe, and one of the soldiers snatched it away, snapping the cord that held it. Unsure of what to do with the Governor, the soldiers called out to Captain Yue for direction.

  “I don't care about him!” Captain Yue shouted. “Get this stupid horse off me! Then get me into our sedan chair, grab the cage with the boy, and GO! We've got to get the scrolls back to Major Ying. We'll let him decide whether or not this is the right boy. Move!”

  Overhearing Captain Yue's words, the Drunkard went on a major offensive. He lunged at a soldier holding a spear and removed it cleanly from the surprised man's hands. Then he started swinging. The Drunkard feinted north and struck south. He feinted east and struck west. He spun the spear before him like a windmill and soldiers dropped around him like raindrops. Fu could only see bits and pieces of the Drunkard in action, but he was impressed with what he saw. The Drunkard fought like a warrior monk. Fu thought perhaps the Drunkard really had trained at Shaolin—before he fell into the wine barrel.

  Seeing the Drunkard's skill, the soldiers surrounding the cage started to hurry. Several men helped Captain Yue, while the others grabbed the cage. The cage had been lashed to two long poles along the bottom so that it could be carried like a sedan chair. The poles stretched out far beyond the front and back of the cage, which meant that the soldiers who picked Fu up were beyond his reach.

  Fu flew into a rage. He threw his body first to one side of the cage, then the other in an effort to smash through the bars … or throw the carriers off balance … or something! He had to do something! But it was no use. The men were strong, and so was the bamboo. Defeated, Fu could only watch as he was carried to the edge of the square, toward a trail that led deep into the forest. Fu let out a desperate cry. And for once, someone listened.

  The Drunkard looked up, his eyes locking on Fu's. Something stirred deep in Fu's heart. Fu froze, paralyzed by a feeling he had never known. The Drunkard froze, too. Something powerful passed between them and the Drunkard roared. Fu saw a soldier grab hold of the Drunkard's tattered robe, and with one mighty swipe, the Drunkard crushed the man's shoulder. The Drunkard leaped toward Fu, leaving just one soldier standing. A soldier with a qiang.

  Across the square, Ma tensed in the arms of the village men still holding him back. As the soldier raised the qiang, Ma squatted into a Horse Stance and lashed out with his right leg, striking one of his captors square in the knee. The village man cried out and released his grip on Ma. Ma tore free of the other two sets of hands and raced across the square, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  The soldier with the qiang hesitated. He looked at the wild boy racing toward him, then looked at the Drunkard racing away from him. He lined the qiang up with the center of the Drunkard's back and pulled the trigger.

  There was a slight pause before the gunpowder ignited. It was during this pause that Ma smashed into the soldier. The end of the qiang swung downward, and the powder exploded. Five steps from the cage, the Drunkard cried out, stumbling forward. He reached out toward Fu, then fell to the ground.

  Fu watched helplessly as his cage was swallowed by the overgrown trail.

  Fu swayed from side to side as the caravan of soldiers pushed forward on the narrow trail. It was the middle of the day, but Fu's world was dark. Captain Yue had ordered his men to cover Fu's cage with several blankets, like a shade for a birdcage. At the head of the caravan, Captain Yue sat high in a sedan chair behind a shade of his own. His, however, was made of silk. As Captain Yue and Fu rode along behind their separate shrouds, they both thought about the exact same thing: pain. The pain Captain Yue felt seeped from the outside in as a result of the injury to his leg. Fu's, however, oozed from the inside out. Out from someplace deep down in his heart. Fu was alone. More alone than he had ever been in his entire life. The look in the Drunkard's eyes had shown him that. Their connection was brief, but powerful. In that instant, Fu knew the Drunkard cared for him. Deeply. He could feel it. He didn't question it. But he did question why the Drunkard felt that way. The Drunkard was a complete stranger, yet he had risked his life for him. In fact, he may have even lost his life for him. Fu had heard the Drunkard cry out and seen him fall. The way Fu's luck worked, the Drunkard was probably dead. It would only make sense. Fu had already been abandoned by everyone else in his life. Why not the Drunkard, too?

  Fu sighed. The tiger cub had left him and so had his brothers. True, Grandmaster had told him and his brothers to separate and run, but his brothers didn't have to do it. They could have stayed and done something. He did. He would have been more successful if he had had some help. But, instead, they had left him to do it all himself. Alone.

  The cage suddenly jerked to a stop, and Fu bumped his bald head against the bamboo bars.

  “Stupid—” Fu began to say.

  “HALT!” a stranger's voice commanded from somewhere up the trail. “Who goes there?”

  Captain Yue cleared his throat. “It is I—Captain Yue of Major Ying's army!” he announced. “Who dares to stand on the trail before my caravan, commanding me to halt?”

  The stranger up the trail laughed. “Who am I? I am Commander Woo, you arrogant snob. If you would stick your pointed head out from behind your precious silk curtains and take a look, you would see for yourself.”

  Fu found a seam where two blankets overlapped and peeked out. He saw a bend in the trail ahead. On it was a second caravan headed straight toward their caravan. A stocky man clad in armor stood at the head of the second caravan, glaring at Captain Yue's sedan chair. Fu assumed he was Commander Woo.

  Fu saw Captain Yue stick his head out from behind the silk curtains.

  “Oh, so it is you,” Captain Yue said to Commander Woo.

  Commander Woo looked around. “Where is your horse? Have you given him away so that you can travel like a princess? Be a man for once in your life. Get down here and walk with your troops.”

  “I can't walk, you ignorant oaf
,” Captain Yue replied. “I've been injured and so has my horse, not that it's any of your business. Where is Major Ying?”

  “Excuse me?” Commander Woo said. He stepped forward and his eyes narrowed. “The Emperor may be your uncle, Captain Yue, but that doesn't give you the right to talk back to me that way. I am your superior. Never forget that.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Captain Yue said. He closed his eyes. “Commander, could you please tell me where Major Ying is?”

  “Major Ying had some business to attend to, so he sent me and these men to rendezvous with you. Were you successful in obtaining the scrolls and the young monk?”

  “Of course,” Captain Yue replied.

  “Then hand them over.”

  “Nothing would please me more than to be done with this nonsense,” Captain Yue said. “My own number one man has the scrolls. He will retrieve them now. As soon as they are in your hands, I shall be on my way. I must seek treatment immediately.”

  Commander Woo snorted. “You will go nowhere until I say so, Princess.”

  A moment later, Fu saw one of Captain Yue's men appear with all four scrolls. The soldier handed them over to Commander Woo.

  “Would you like to see the boy in the cage?” Captain Yue asked. He yanked his curtains open and leaned back.

  “Not just yet,” Commander Woo replied. “I want to check the scrolls first.”

  “I can assure you, they're authentic,” Captain Yue said.

  “I'll be the judge of that.”

  Commander Woo opened one of the scrolls, and Fu saw his tiny eyes widen. He handed the three remaining scrolls over to a skinny man and instructed the man to follow. The scroll-bearer put the three scrolls into the folds of his robe. Fu watched both men leave the narrow trail and walk over to a small clearing.

  Fu shook his head. Who did this Commander Woo think he was? Cangzhen monks had to prove themselves elite before they were allowed to view the secret scrolls for their style. Fu could tell simply by the way this man walked he had not studied kung fu very long. His stumpy torso and short legs wobbled in opposition as he ambled toward the clearing. Commander Woo may be powerful and know how to fight other soldiers in combat situations, but kung fu was another story altogether. Especially the advanced kung fu found in the scrolls. Worst of all, the Commander's body style was completely inappropriate for most dragon-style techniques. Things were about to get ugly. Very ugly.

  Commander Woo assumed a sloppy Horse Stance and adjusted the flexible armor draped over his wide torso. He handed the remaining scroll to the scroll-bearer.

  “Hold this scroll open in front of you for a moment,” Commander Woo said. “I want to try something.”

  From the awkward, shoulder-width Horse Stance, Commander Woo kept his right foot rooted and stepped backward with his left. After shifting his center of gravity, he leaned forward with his upper body and formed dragon claws with both hands by extending his fingers, separating them, and bending only his fingertips at the first knuckle. He put his left claw slightly in front of the right, overlapping at the thumbs. Then he positioned both claws up near his face and brought his elbows in. He compressed every muscle in his body, as if bracing for an impact. Though his form was poor, Fu recognized this as a classic defensive dragon position.

  What is he going to do from here? Fu wondered.

  Without additional preparation or adjustments, Commander Woo suddenly whipped his back leg around at waist height. His leg was bent, and as it neared the front of his body, he straightened it, snapping it powerfully as though it were a dragon's tail. Fu and the others heard a tremendous POP!, and the powerful man pretending to be a dragon fell to the ground, howling in pain. The scroll-bearer ran to his side, tucking the open scroll into the folds of his robe along with the other three. He helped Commander Woo up.

  The Commander clamped his jaws shut and bit down hard, grunting loudly as he rested all his weight on his left leg—the one that had swung like a dragon's tail. It held his weight just fine. Then he attempted to lift his right leg—the one that had been firmly rooted. He managed to raise his thigh up parallel to the ground, but nothing else attached to that leg responded. Everything below the knee dangled like a tired fish flopping at the end of a silk fishing line. Commander Woo howled again.

  As if in response, a tremendous screeching suddenly filled the air around them.

  “ON YOUR GUARD!” one of the soldiers shouted. “MONKEY TROOP! PROTECT THE SUPPLY CARTS!”

  One hundred brown macaques descended upon the caravan from the treetops. Fu had never seen anything like it. The medium-size monkeys tore into everything in sight, each one scrambling to find something edible to steal as the soldiers attempted to beat them off with spears. The monkeys' quick, erratic movements were too unpredictable. The soldiers were spectacularly unsuccessful.

  A man shrieked, and Fu looked over to see Captain Yue slapping at a small monkey. The monkey ran off, and Captain Yue tied his silk curtains closed. Fu scanned the area and found Commander Woo hobbling over to one of the weapons carts, using the skinny scroll-bearer as a crutch. The skinny man helped Commander Woo clear out a space and climb into the cart. Then he closed a wooden hatch, securing Commander Woo inside. The skinny man grabbed a spear, and Fu watched as the man tried with great frustration to run the spear through a monkey or two. The man wielded the weapon poorly. He would make an easy target if Fu ever got out.

  As Fu continued to watch the skinny soldier, something landed on top of his cage. From the sound, Fu assumed it was one of the larger monkeys.

  “Stupid monkey!” Fu shouted. “You won't find any food in here!”

  The monkey stopped moving. It suddenly leaped, screeching loudly, and came down heavily on the cage directly above Fu. Its foot landed between two of the bamboo bars and crashed down on top of Fu's head, covered by the blanket. Fu grabbed the foot through the blanket and yanked hard. The creature squealed. As Fu hung on, deciding what to do next, his nose recoiled. He knew that smell!

  “Malao, it's me! Fu! Get me out of here!”

  Malao jerked his foot up and the blanket went with it. He stuck his small, smiling face down between two bamboo bars running across the top of the cage. Beads of sweat dripped off his bald, dark-skinned head.

  “Pussycat!” Malao said, giggling. “How did you get in there?”

  “How did I get in here?” Fu said. “What are you doing up there?”

  “I was—”

  Malao disappeared. A soldier had grabbed his ankle and yanked him off the cage.

  “Malao!” Fu cried as he found a seam between more blankets on the far side of the cage. He looked out and saw Malao twist and wiggle and kick and claw and bite, all at the same time. The soldier trying to hold on to him threw his hands up in the air and stepped back. Malao hit the ground and let out a shriek, leaping back up on top of Fu's cage. He tore the remaining blankets off and began to beat his chest like an angry ape, sending a piercing scream in the direction of the soldiers. The soldiers stopped and stared. Fu stared, too. He had never seen Malao like this before.

  As Malao carried on, Fu slammed his hand against the top of the cage. “Hey, Monkey Boy! Remember me? Get me out of here!”

  “Out! Out! Out!” Malao screeched as he jumped up and down atop the cage like one of the macaques, all the while slyly scanning the soldiers. A key ring glimmered in a soldier's hand, and Malao leaped at the man without hesitation. Soaring feetfirst through the air, Malao arrived with one leg on either side of the soldier's long neck. He locked his ankles behind the man's head and squeezed, scissor-style, while twisting his body to one side. The soldier folded in half sideways and choked, releasing the keys so that he could grab Malao's legs. The keys hit the ground the same time Malao did. Malao scrambled off the shaken man and grabbed the key ring. Five men sprang on him at once.

  Malao managed to throw the key ring between the men an instant before he was pounded into the earth. The keys sailed through the bars of the cage, right into Fu's lap. Fu began fu
mbling through keys as Malao got pummeled. In no time, Fu found a key that looked about right and reached his arm through the bars to try it in the lock. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a soldier running toward him with a spear.

  Fu pretended not to see the soldier and didn't flinch until the moment the soldier thrust his spear. Fu dropped the keys and twisted gracefully to his left side, lifting his right arm high as the spear tip breezed underneath his armpit. As the soldier withdrew the spear, Fu bent his right elbow and clamped it down as hard as he could on top of the spear shaft. Then he gripped the shaft with his right hand and jerked his body powerfully backward. The soldier was not rooted and lurched forward with the spear, smashing his head against the bamboo bars. Fu lunged forward himself, grabbing the man's long black hair with one hand between the bars. Fu shoved straight down as hard as he could. There was a sharp crack as the soldier's nose shattered against a large stone. Still conscious, the man ripped his head away from Fu and screamed as a fistful of his hair remained in Fu's hand. A chunk of scalp dangled from the clump of hair. Fu dropped it in the dirt and stared hard at the man. The man grabbed the hairy clump and ran away. Fu got back to work.

  Fu grabbed the keys, unlocked the latch, and threw the door up. Then he grabbed the spear the soldier had left behind and headed for Malao. But after only two steps, he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't believe his eyes. Monkeys were pouring out of the trees, leaping directly onto the heads, backs, arms, and legs of the soldiers on top of Malao. In no time, there was an undulating pile of more than fifty monkeys, clawing, scratching, and biting in unison. The men cried out in pain as more and more monkeys joined the savage attack, all of them abandoning their previous scavenging in the food carts in order to help Malao.

  Fu had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't about to get close enough to that pile to find out. Instead, he looked for the skinny soldier with the scrolls and spotted the man standing next to one of the supply carts staring open-mouthed at the monkey pile. Fu ran directly for him.