Tiger

by Jeff Stone

  The soldier saw Fu coming and did his best to brace himself for the attack. He assumed a defensive position with his spear held before him, holding his ground as Fu started swinging. Fu feinted high and swung low with his own spear, bringing one end around behind the soldier's knees. The soldier's legs buckled forward, and before he even hit the ground, Fu swiftly pulled the spear back and swung it up over his head and down, as though he were chopping wood with an ax. The spear shaft connected with the soldier's unprotected collarbone. The spear was strong. The collarbone was not.

  The soldier bellowed in pain as he crumpled to his knees. Fu slid one hand up his spear's shaft so that his hands were shoulder-width apart, then lunged forward with the spear before him, parallel to the ground. The shaft connected with the soldier's windpipe, and Fu leaned into it. The soldier toppled over backward as Fu hopped on top of the spear shaft, placing one knee on either side of the soldier's head, pinning the soldier to the ground by his throat. The soldier gasped for air. He was unsuccessful. As soon as the man was unconscious, Fu let up on the spear, spun around, and retrieved all four scrolls from the folds of the soldier's robe.

  As he stood, Fu realized something. None of the remaining soldiers had come to aid the scroll-bearer. He looked around and saw that the screeching monkeys were now chasing all the soldiers off into the forest. Fu looked over at Malao and once again could hardly believe his own eyes.

  Malao stood firm and straight as blood poured heavily out of both sides of his nose. He pointed at the fleeing soldiers with his arms outstretched, and the monkey troop pursued as if following orders. The five soldiers who had attacked Malao lay at his feet, their bodies scratched and clawed and broken. A large, snow-white, one-eyed monkey sat on Malao's shoulder.

  Malao smiled at Fu and laughed out loud as he lowered his arms and relaxed. The monkey seemed to laugh, too. Then it leaned forward as if to kiss Malao's bald head and scampered off into the trees.

  “What was THAT all about?” Fu asked Malao, bewildered.

  Malao casually leaned his small head back and pinched the bridge of his nose to slow the flow of blood out of his nostrils. “What was what?”

  “The white monkey!” Fu said. “All the monkeys!”

  “It's a long story,” Malao replied, shrugging his shoulders. “A really long story.”

  Fu growled. He took a step toward Malao, then stopped suddenly and looked suspiciously up into the trees behind Malao. Malao giggled.

  “Don't be a scaredy-cat,” Malao said. “You can approach me.”

  “I'm not afraid,” Fu snapped. “I'm just… confused. Did you command those monkeys to attack?”

  “What did it look like?” Malao asked, flashing a devilish grin.

  “I'm not in the mood for riddles,” Fu said. “If you're not going to answer my questions, just say so.”

  Malao pouted. “Come on, Pussycat. Humor me. I save your life, and this is how you treat me?”

  “You know how much I hate your games, Malao. I appreciate your saving me and all, but I'm really not in the mood. I don't want to get angry at you.”

  “You appreciate me?” Malao said, grinning wide. He put his hand on his heart. “Really? Brother Fu, I'm touched!”

  Fu growled again. “Don't push me, Monkey Brains.”

  “That's the Fu I know!” Malao exclaimed. “Welcome back!”

  Fu closed his eyes and ground his teeth. “The Fu you know will never be back. I left him at Cangzhen.”

  “Whoa, what's with all the drama?” Malao said. “Those villagers must have really worked you over.”

  Fu opened his eyes and cocked his head to one side. “How do you know about the villagers?”

  “A little bird told me.” Malao smiled.

  “Stop screwing around, Malao.”

  “What!” Malao said, stomping his foot. “I'm talking about Hok!”

  “Hok?” Fu said, surprised. “When did you see Hok?”

  “I don't know. You know how easily I forget things. I just remember that I saw him a couple of times after you ran away from Cangzhen.”

  “Ran away!” Fu said in disbelief. “I didn't run away. You guys did. I stayed and fought. I got the scrolls. You guys left me to fight, alone.”

  “Not exactly,” Malao replied. “We all ran like Grandmaster said, but Hok and I circled back separately. I was just heading to the village now to help you. My new friends were showing me the way when they got hungry and decided to raid the caravan. I had no idea you were in the cage until I heard your voice.”

  Fu didn't know what to say. He looked over at Malao, speechless. Malao seemed to read the look in Fu's eyes.

  “You're welcome, Pussycat,” he said.

  Fu lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet.

  Malao scratched his small, bald head. “Hey, are those the dragon scrolls?”

  Fu saw that one of the scrolls was poking out of his robe. “Yeah,” he said. “I have all four.”

  “How did you get ahold of them?”

  “It's a long story,” Fu replied. “A really long story.”

  Malao laughed out loud. “That's pretty funny! Good one, Fu! Can I see one of those scrolls for a moment? I've always wondered what they look like.”

  “Sure,” Fu said. “Just make sure you—”

  As Fu reached into his robe, he heard a whoosh! and a quick clink!-clink!-clink! Malao's face hit the dirt as his feet were jerked out from under him by a chain whip.

  “Come here, you little knuckle-dragger!” Ying snarled as he stepped out of a thick bush behind Malao, holding the chain whip. The deep grooves in his face seemed to slither under the strain as he began pulling Malao toward him, hand over hand. Several paces away, Fu was about to make a move when a battalion of well-armed soldiers appeared on the trail. Leading the group was a man with a long ponytail braid riding a raven-black stallion. Fu recognized the man immediately. Directly behind the horse, two men each carried one end of a long pole with something orange strung to it, hanging down, swaying as they walked. The swaying object was Hok. His pale wrists were bound together, and so were his ankles. The long pole passed beneath the bindings, and Hok hung from it like a hunting trophy. Fu paused to take it all in until Malao's cries brought him back to the moment.

  “FU! HELP ME!”

  With one great bound, Fu was at Malao's wriggling feet. He reached down and grabbed the chain whip, entering into a tug-of-war with Ying.

  A series of piercing shrieks suddenly rang out from the treetops, and Fu turned to see the white monkey leading dozens of brown macaques toward Ying.

  “FIRE!” Ying commanded, still holding fast to the chain whip. The soldiers raised their qiangs and shots rang out. Monkeys tumbled from the sky. A lead ball grazed the arm of the white monkey, and it screeched loudly, turning tail. The rest of the monkeys followed its retreat.

  Ying laughed. “Fine fighting force you have there, Malao.”

  “Finer than the men you lost at Cangzhen!” Fu growled as he continued to heave on the chain while Malao struggled to get free. “At least most of the monkeys … GRRRRR … escaped … ARRRRR … alive!”

  Fu gave a tremendous jerk to try and get Malao a little more slack. Ying let go. Fu sailed backward, the chain whip slipping from his grasp. Ying leaped forward with his arms spread wide. He landed directly on top of Malao.

  “Don't let him grab you!” Fu cried out to Malao.

  But it was too late. Ying already had a crippling eagle-claw grip sinking deep into a pressure point on Malao's neck. Malao's entire body went limp. Lines of blood trickled down toward his shoulder as Ying's long fingernails dug in. Fu knew that he had to break that grip, or Malao would suffer permanent nerve damage.

  Fu ran full-force into Ying's arm, breaking Ying's connection with Malao. Ying responded by latching on to the back of Fu's neck with his other hand with amazing speed. This time, it was Fu who went limp. Malao, still temporarily paralyzed, lay motionless. Ying lessened his grip on Fu slightly and removed the scrolls fr
om Fu's robe with his free hand as he addressed his men.

  “Did all of you see that? That is how you take care of business! Quickly, efficiently, decisively!”

  Ying turned to Commander Woo, who sat in the weapons cart with the hatch open.

  “COMMANDER WOO!” Ying said, pointing to Hok hanging from the pole. “Look what Tonglong has caught. There is your restless spirit from Cangzhen, hanging from that pole. He was the one you felt watching you, and he snatched the Grandmaster's body from beneath your nose. Hobble over there on your one good leg and untie the one called Hok so that he can walk. He's going on a little trip.

  “CAPTAIN YUE! Get yourself out from behind those curtains this instant.” Captain Yue poked his head out. Ying continued. “You will tie up the two troublemakers known as Fu and Malao, and they, too, will walk. Their paralysis is only temporary, so I suggest you hurry.

  “TONGLONG! You have proven your loyalty to me by capturing Hok. Now it is time for you to get your hands dirty. You will finish what was left unfinished back at the temple. Kill these monks. We'll set up camp here for the night, so make sure you take them far into the forest before completing the job. I don't want any tigers coming around here to dine on their corpses or lap up their blood. If you run into any problems, fire a warning shot from a qiang. I'd hate to have to interrupt my reading to clean up any mess you might make, so don't make any mistakes. And make sure you pay special attention to Fu. He's already gotten away from you once.”

  “I give you my word,” Tonglong said with a gleam in his eye. “I'll take care of the one called Fu.”

  Fu stumbled sluggishly forward as Tonglong pushed him from behind. He nearly fell several times because his legs didn't respond as quickly as they normally did thanks to Ying temporarily interrupting the natural flow of energy through his nervous system. Malao appeared to be in a little better shape, moving forward behind Tonglong while two soldiers pushed him along. Bringing up the rear, two more soldiers followed Hok.

  Fu considered their odds. There were four soldiers plus Tonglong against him and two of his brothers. Two of the soldiers carried spears and one carried a qiang, while each warrior monk was tightly bound with rope from shoulder to waist, their arms pinned to their sides and their ankles connected by a short length of rope. He and his brothers didn't stand a chance. Fu figured Tonglong would finish him first, especially after their encounter back at Cangzhen.

  Fu slowed for a moment to steady himself as they entered a sun-drenched clearing. He squinted and coughed quietly to clear his dry throat. Tonglong stepped up to him and screamed in his face.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Nothing,” Fu replied. “I didn't say—”

  “Don't deny it!” Tonglong shouted, pushing Fu to the edge of the clearing. He pulled his long, thick braid forward over his shoulder and tucked it into his sash. “You mumbled a secret under that cough. Who is listening on the wind, one of your remaining brothers? Let us find him before he attacks us! You will be my shield.”

  Tonglong shoved Fu hard into an enormous bush. Fu was swallowed whole. The soldiers guarding Hok and Malao looked about warily as Tonglong leaped into the bush after Fu. He, too, disappeared completely. Fu lay on the ground, confused, as Tonglong landed on top of him and spoke in whispers.

  “I realize none of your remaining brothers are near, young monk. I simply said that as an excuse to get you alone for a moment. I still owe you a life. I am loosening your bonds as I speak. When we get back out in the open, you must pretend to attack me so that I will not lose face.”

  “But—”

  “Hush!” Tonglong said. “Do not speak. Do you practice Iron Head kung fu?”

  Fu nodded.

  “Good. I will carry you out into the open and pretend to crush your rib cage with my Iron Arms. Use your Iron Head skills to strike my head just hard enough to render me unconscious. There is a dagger in my sash. Use it to cut your brothers free, but I ask that you leave it behind. It is important to me. You must not take my sword, either. Agreed?”

  Fu thought for a moment. Didn't this man know that he had already returned the favor? He had saved his life back at Cangzhen when he distracted Ying by yelling from the burning rooftop after Ying killed Grandmaster.

  Tonglong grunted impatiently. Fu nodded in agreement. Without warning, Tonglong slapped him loudly on the side of his bald head. It was a glancing blow, but it still hurt.

  “Take that!” Tonglong screamed at Fu. “Don't you dare try to sneak away from me! Now stand up so I can knock you down again!”

  Fu stood as best he could amid the dense foliage, irritated by the sharp slap. Tonglong gripped him chest to chest in a tight bear hug and carried him a few steps out into the open, squeezing harder than Fu thought necessary. Fu grunted. If this man wanted to see a little Iron Head technique, then that's exactly what he would get. Fu snapped his head back and then forward with lightning speed. Tonglong looked surprised as Fu's forehead met his left temple. Tonglong slid to the ground, his eyes closed. Fu stepped back and wiggled slightly. The ropes dropped to his feet.

  Seeing Fu in action, Malao lunged at the nearest soldier, swinging his head.

  The soldier put his hands in front of his face to protect himself, and his fingers were crushed between Malao's iron-like forehead and his own forehead. The soldier dropped to his knees, his crumpled fingers held out before him. He stared hard at Malao with fight in his eyes.

  Malao leaped straight into the air, his ankles tied together with a length of rope about half as long as his arm. He tucked into a tight forward flip just as the soldier began to stand and completed his improvised maneuver by thrusting his legs forward, spreading them out as far as the rope would allow, and slamming the taut rope down against the back of the soldier's neck. The soldier's head snapped down and his torso followed, his body going limp after his face ricocheted off a fallen tree. Malao tucked his chin to his chest as his upper back hit the ground smoothly. He rocked forward, popping up onto his feet. Then he turned to face the second soldier who had been guarding him.

  The second soldier carried a qiang. Malao stopped his attack. Fu, however, did not. He had retrieved the dagger from Tonglong's sash and was about to throw it at the soldier when the soldier suddenly turned the qiang toward Fu.

  “Put the dagger down, monk,” the soldier said. “Now.”

  Fu hesitated. He glanced across the clearing and saw that the two soldiers guarding Hok had knocked him to the ground. They stood over Hok with their spears raised, ready to thrust. Malao stood uninjured, but he was securely bound and quite some distance from everyone else.

  “Drop the dagger,” the soldier with the qiang repeated. “I will count to three.”

  Fu stood there, thinking.

  “One … two …”

  Suddenly there was a loud CRASH! as something exploded from the brush behind the soldier. Startled, Fu looked toward the sound, expecting to see a white monkey flying through the air. Instead, a large tiger cub slammed into the soldier with the qiang. The cub's front claws sunk deep into the soldier's shoulder blades, and the man fell forward, screaming. The cub raked at the man's back ferociously, all the while staring at Fu.

  Wide-eyed, one of the soldiers standing over Hok shouted, “Look! That tiger is protecting the large monk! Just like the monkeys fought for the small monk earlier!”

  “You're right!” the other soldier replied. “I'm not going to lay a hand on any of them! Let's get out of here!”

  Both men ran, and the tiger cub jerked its head in their direction. Then it turned back toward Fu and blinked three times before instinctively giving chase. The cub left his victim in a state of shock, lying flat on his stomach with his arms outstretched.

  Malao and Hok stared at Fu. Fu stared back. He shrugged his shoulders and a small drop of blood fell from the corner of the cut across his cheek.

  “What was THAT all about!” Malao shrieked excitedly as he hobbled over to Fu, his arms and legs tied.

  “O
h,” Fu said casually as he wiped the drop of blood with his thumb and popped it into his mouth. “It's a really long story.”

  Malao giggled. “Good one, Fu!”

  “I can't wait to hear it,” said Hok as he approached, still bound.

  “You can't wait to hear my story?” Fu said to Hok. “What about your story? Never before have I seen a crane hanging from a trophy pole like a deer!”

  “I suppose I do have a story or two to share,” Hok said. “But not right now. Would you be so kind as to cut us loose? We need to leave as soon as possible.”

  “I'll cut you guys loose,” Fu said as he went to work on Hok's ropes, “but I'm not going anywhere. Not without those scrolls.”

  Hok shook his head. “It's not worth it, Fu. Ying is too strong.”

  Fu stopped cutting and glared at Hok. “What do you suggest we do instead, run away? Look where that got you.”

  “Hey, hey, hey!” Malao interrupted. “Be nice, Fu.”

  Fu grunted and got back to work.

  Malao watched Fu cut Hok's ropes. “How did you get free, Fu? I mean, one moment you're tied up like me and Hok, and the next you're not. What happened in that bush with Tonglong?”

  “Who?” Fu asked.

  “Tonglong,” Malao replied. “You know, Ying's number one soldier? The man with the long pony-tail?”

  “Is that his name?” Fu asked. “‘Praying mantis'? What kind of name is that?”

  “I don't know,” Hok replied. “Cantonese, I suppose.”

  “No kidding,” Fu said. He finished with Hok and walked over to Malao. He started cutting and said, “I spared Tonglong's life back at Cangzhen, and he repaid the debt. That's all. He let me loose, and now we're even. If he ever stands between me and the scrolls, he'll taste my fist!”

  “Let it go, Fu,” Hok said, rubbing his pale, chafed wrists. “Ying and Tonglong are far too strong. You won't have a chance.”

  “I have to get the scrolls back!” Fu said, holding up Tonglong's dagger. “I refuse to let Ying win.”