The Five Ancestors Book 7

by Jeff Stone

  These were some of the dragon scrolls from the destroyed Cangzhen Temple. Ying had been after them, and ShaoShu recalled Ying once telling him how Tonglong had managed to steal several right out from under his nose.

  ShaoShu grinned and slipped both scrolls into the folds of his robe. Maybe they would prove useful to his friends.

  Over the next week, Long’s condition improved noticeably, but not as much as Hok would have liked. While he could sit up on his own now and go a full day without drifting off into an exhausted slumber, he was still unable to stand. He blamed it on the tumultuous seas and rough weather. Hok blamed it on her herb bag.

  Hok was able to make him blood-enriching tonics and infection-inhibiting ointments, and he did benefit greatly from vast quantities of sleep and the nutritious food Charles had stowed aboard. However, Hok said that she lacked a few rare items that she was certain would speed his recovery even more. She had hoped to make a stop along the way to pick up the necessary ingredients, but Charles would not allow it. He was justifiably concerned that Tonglong might have already spread word overland that they were to be captured on sight. Additionally, the winds had not been favorable for docking in any of the ports they had passed. While it would have been easy to sail into any one of them, the prevailing winds would have prevented them from sailing back out. Moreover, once they had left the sea and begun to head up the Yellow River, Charles’ determination to stay away from the waterside towns had only grown stronger.

  Hok had to settle for the next best thing, which was stopping somewhere both she and Charles knew to be safe that also had the supplies Hok wanted. She knew the perfect place: the home of an elderly healer called PawPaw, or Grandmother. It was along their route to the Jade Phoenix in the city of Kaifeng, and from Charles’ estimation they would arrive very soon.

  As Charles’ sloop cut a smooth swath up the Yellow River’s fast-moving current, Long sat with his back against the boat’s side rail. Like the others, he spent most of his time scanning the area for trouble. There was plenty of scenery but very few people, and consequently no conflicts. Steep banks of yellow earth shouldered both sides of the river in this region, covered with a matting of dead grass and dried, broken reed stalks. The trees were nearly leafless, their skeleton frames shaking in the chilly breeze. Fortunately, Charles had several blankets in his sea chest to keep them all warm. They would have to acquire jackets, boots, hats, and gloves once they reached Kaifeng. They were now in the north, after all, and snow was not unheard of this time of year.

  They rounded a bend in the river, and Charles pointed to the shore. “There it is,” he said, his finger aimed at a small house perched atop the riverbank. “It looks different now that the leaves have fallen.”

  “It sure does,” Hok said. “I see smoke drifting from the chimney, though. It seems someone is home.”

  “That’s g-g-great,” Malao stammered from the mast top, his teeth chattering. “I c-c-can’t wait to warm up!” He quickly untied a few ropes and coiled them up, then scurried down the mast, onto the deck, stopping next to Charles. “All c-c-clear, C-C-Captain.”

  “Thanks, Malao,” Charles said, looking up at the mast top. “I couldn’t have done better myself. Can you give me a hand with the mainsail?”

  “S-s-sure,” Malao replied.

  Charles nodded and turned to Hok and Xie. “When the big sail starts to come down, could you two do your best to grab it?”

  “Of course,” they replied.

  “Very good,” Charles said. He turned to Fu in the bow. “Are you ready?”

  “Aye, Captain,” Fu said, and he gripped the head of a large anchor.

  “On my mark, then,” Charles said. “Ready … and … anchor away!”

  Fu heaved the heavy anchor overboard with a loud grunt, and Long watched as Malao and Charles began to pull furiously on a complicated series of ropes attached to the mast. The sloop’s mainsail dropped like a billowing cloud, and Hok and Xie scrambled about the deck, doing their best to scoop it into their arms before it slipped into the water.

  “Hang on!” Fu warned.

  Long turned to watch the anchor’s thick rope playing out quickly through Fu’s hands over the side of the sloop. The rope slackened for an instant, and Fu hurriedly wound it around a cleat. An instant later, the rope went taut and the boat stopped its forward progress with a violent jerk. The sloop then began to drift backward with the current until the rope went taut again, the boat stopping altogether with its nose still facing upstream.

  “Well done, everyone,” Charles said as he glanced around the boat. He began to untie his robe sash, and Long asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Someone is going to have to get wet,” Charles said. “It might as well be the captain.”

  Charles slipped off his robe, and Long saw for the first time that he had a pair of matching pistols in holsters strapped across his pale chest. Charles removed the pistols and holsters, as well as his boots.

  “Malao, the bow rope, please,” Charles said.

  Malao handed Charles a section of sturdy rope, and Charles placed it between his teeth. He grinned, nodded to the group, and dove overboard.

  Long watched as Charles surfaced in the muddy water with a loud gasp, the frigid temperature doubtless a shock to his system. He did not complain, though, and swam powerfully to shore before scrambling up the riverbank. Once he reached the top, he took the end of the rope from his teeth and tied it to a thick tree trunk, then waved.

  Long was surprised to feel the boat begin to move. He glanced toward the bow and saw Fu pulling the opposite end of the rope, his face red with exertion.

  “Use the winch, Fu!” Charles called out, but Fu ignored him. Instead, Fu continued to heave on the rope hand over hand until the boat’s keel scraped the river’s bottom close to shore. Fu stopped heaving and tied the rope off.

  “Well done, you stubborn pussycat,” Charles called out. “A winch would have made for a lot less effort. Malao, toss me the stern line!”

  Malao did not obey, either. Instead, he threw a coil of rope over his shoulder, jumped onto the boat’s side rail, and made a tremendous leap ashore. He landed well clear of the water and played out rope as he raced up the bank, handing the coil to Charles.

  “Show-offs,” Charles said, shivering in the cold breeze. “You did remember to tie the other end of this line to a cleat, right?”

  Malao giggled. “Of course.”

  Charles tied the stern line to a second tree trunk, and he slid back down the bank through the yellow mud. Long watched him step back into the water and wade over to the sloop, the water reaching above his waist.

  “Xie,” Charles said, shivering more violently now. “Help Long down onto my shoulders.”

  Long wanted to protest, but knew there would be no point. He allowed Xie to lower his legs onto Charles’ cold, wet shoulders, and Charles quickly waded to shore, depositing Long on solid ground. Malao helped Long up the bank, and when they reached the top, Long looked back to see Hok and Xie leap directly onto the shore as Malao had done.

  Hok hurried over to Charles and wrapped him in a blanket she’d brought, while Xie held up a bundle. It was another blanket wrapped around Charles’ pistols and holsters. Xie unwrapped the blanket, draped it over Charles’ head, and said, “I will hang on to your firearms until you have warmed up.”

  “Th-th-thank you,” Charles stammered, his lips beginning to turn purple.

  Long felt his dan tien begin to tingle, and he turned toward the house. A hunched figure in a hooded overcoat appeared from the opposite side of the structure, and an elderly female voice called out, “Why, Charles! Your sloop looks very different! I hardly recognized it from my window. Come in and dry off. Hok, Malao, Fu! So good to see you. Bring your friends and get yourselves out of this vile cold weather.”

  The woman headed back the way she had come and disappeared, and the others hurried after her. Malao led the charge toward the house, followed by Hok and Fu with Charles between them.
Long and Xie brought up the rear.

  As they approached the home, Long took in the details. The house was small and old, but still in good condition. Most of the window shutters had been nailed shut for the winter, and the heavy front door appeared to have been designed to keep out more than the cold. It also looked like it had been broken down and repaired several times. As he entered the house and closed the door behind him, the old woman saw him eyeballing the pockmarked doorjamb.

  “Occasionally, I receive unwelcome or impatient visitors,” she said with a smile. “You, however, will be received like family. Welcome. I am PawPaw.”

  Long bowed. “I am Long. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

  Xie bowed, too. “I am Xie. I thank you as well.”

  “No need for bows, and certainly no need for thank-yous,” PawPaw said, throwing back her hood to reveal thin gray hair and clear, sharp eyes. “I have not done anything. My home is your home. Tell me, what happened to your leg, Long? I noticed you limping and I can see the lump of a bandage on your thigh. There is one on your left arm, too.”

  “It is a long story,” Long replied, unsure how much information he should share. He glanced at Hok.

  “It’s okay,” Hok said, pointing to the front door. “PawPaw will understand our predicament better than anyone. She is an ally of the bandits, and is a key link in their information chain. That is how her door got that way.”

  PawPaw smiled warmly, and Long found himself smiling back. “I see,” he said. “In that case, I was sliced open by a man with a hidden dagger in the Shanghai Fight Club pit arena, then chased by soldiers under the leadership of a man called Tonglong. Hok sewed me back together. Do you know who Tonglong is?”

  PawPaw nodded. “I do. Are you poor dears running from him?”

  “Yes,” Hok replied. “That is why Charles’ sloop looks different. He changed its appearance to fool Tonglong. We are in trouble and need to see the bandits as soon as possible.”

  PawPaw looked at Long’s leg. “All of you?”

  “No,” Hok said. “If you do not mind, we would like my temple brother Long to stay here with you. He needs to heal.”

  “Excuse me?” Long said. “You aren’t going anywhere without me.”

  Xie laid a firm hand on Long’s shoulder. “Yes, we are. Hok and I have already discussed this, and you have no say in the matter. If it is agreeable with PawPaw, you will remain here while Charles takes the rest of us to Kaifeng in his boat. Once there, Hok, Malao, and Fu will seek out the bandits, while I continue home alone. Charles will head off on his own, too, traveling back to the southern sea in search of the pirates. He will attempt to obtain firearms for us.”

  Long frowned.

  “You are in no condition to travel overland,” Hok said. “Your stitches need to come out in the next day or two, and afterward you must not put too much strain on your leg or arm. Walking the distances we must travel would be too much for you right now. Once you have healed, of course we would like you to join us with Mong and the bandits. By the time you reach us, we will hopefully have a plan to deal with Tonglong. Someone will then need to share that plan with Xie, and the most likely candidate is you.”

  Long looked at Xie.

  Xie nodded. “That is right. It is a long and treacherous journey to the city of Tunhuang—my homeland. However, an individual can do the trip relatively quickly, provided he or she has the right equipment. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

  “No,” Long said.

  “Then you will have to learn,” Xie said. “I have a contact in Kaifeng who breeds horses unlike any other in China. I will take one of his mounts for my journey home, and I will make arrangements for you to have one as well. You must heal first, though. You cannot ride with your leg in that condition.”

  PawPaw looked at Xie. “You are the son of the Western Warlord, are you not?”

  Xie’s eyebrows rose. “I am. How did you know?”

  “I make it my business to know things,” PawPaw said. “I recently received important news from a black market dealer in Jinan called HukJee—Black Pig. He has received reports from within Tonglong’s ranks that Tonglong has slain his own mother, as well as your father. I am sorry.”

  Long saw Xie’s massive jaw muscles tighten. “Bad news travels quickly,” Xie said.

  “It does,” PawPaw replied. “And there is more. Tonglong’s people are spreading the claim that he had no choice but to take action against your father because your father was planning to revolt against the Emperor. They also say that you escaped from Tonglong with the help of a fight club fighter called Golden Dragon, and that you intend to carry out your father’s plan. Tonglong says that the Emperor is in his protective custody because of this threat to national security, and he is currently assembling an army of civilians to join his existing troops and march upon your lands.”

  Xie scowled. “The lying dog! I must get back to my people.” He turned to Charles, who was crouched next to PawPaw’s fireplace. “How long do you think it will be before we can leave?”

  “Give me half an hour and a bowl of hot soup,” Charles said, “and I’ll be ready.”

  PawPaw smiled. “I will get the soup started.”

  “Thank you,” Xie said. “All of you. Your kindness will not be forgotten.” He removed a large ring from his little finger and handed it to Long. It was a jade scorpion resting atop a small mountain of gold.

  Long slipped the ring onto his thumb.

  “After you have healed,” Xie said, “go to Kaifeng and seek out a horseman called Cang. He is quite famous and will not be difficult to find. Show him this ring. He will take care of the rest. Any questions?”

  “I suppose I have one,” Long said. “Should I really do this on my own?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. It will be asking a great deal for Cang to provide me with a horse, as well as you. Asking for a third might be out of the question.”

  “Can someone ride the horse with me?”

  “No. The journey is too taxing to expect a horse to carry more than one rider.”

  Long nodded.

  PawPaw glanced at Hok. “How long do you think it will be before Long has healed enough to handle the stress of riding a horse for several days?”

  “I would estimate four weeks,” Hok replied. “That is, if you have a complete stock of healing herbs. He could probably sit on a horse for short periods in about two weeks, which is what I would consider to be the time frame for a general recovery. Is that acceptable?”

  “Of course,” PawPaw replied. “I am just trying to make plans of my own. Do you know how to find Mong once you reach Kaifeng?”

  “Yes,” Hok said. “We need to talk with Yuen at the Jade Phoenix.”

  “Perfect,” PawPaw said. “She can tell you how to find them. The bandits are constantly on the move. Even so, it should take you less than a week to reach them. They live in the forest, but tend to remain relatively close to Kaifeng. As soon as you arrive, ask Mong to send three strong men to me with two horse carts. By the time we load up and return to the bandits’ camp, and Long travels to Kaifeng, his leg should be healed.”

  “We?” Hok asked.

  “I am going to the bandit camp, too,” PawPaw said. “There is war on the horizon. Mong is going to need all the help he can get.”

  ShaoShu sat on the edge of his bed, picking lint out of his belly button. He had not been this bored in a very long time.

  Since the incident with the Emperor and the spilled ink several days ago, he had been kept away from Tonglong’s command center office and meeting rooms. In fact, he had been excluded from just about everything, spending nearly all of his time in this makeshift bedroom. Tonglong had recruited a group of elite soldiers to follow him around to do his bidding, and one of these soldiers had caught ShaoShu trying to sneak extra food to the Emperor. Consequently, he had been confined here.

  This was just as well, as far as ShaoShu was concerned. The more distance between him and Tonglong, the better. He
had heard a few things about what the sneaky mantis was up to, and he did not like any of it. For example, just that morning he’d overheard a conversation about Tonglong showering his elite soldiers with money to keep hidden the fact that the Emperor was currently being held prisoner in the pig crate. Everyone knew that the Emperor was with Tonglong, but they thought that he was being luxuriously catered to in one of the wings of this massive building.

  ShaoShu had also heard that Tonglong was sending vast sums of money to the Forbidden City to bribe people to do his bidding. This money was said to be coming from the sale of some of the treasure Tonglong had stolen from Ying’s family, and this upset ShaoShu. However, there was little that he could do about it. He could not just sneak away and find Ying to tell him about it. Not only did he not know where Ying was, there was always one of those elite soldiers near his door. He had tried to sneak out before, but never had any luck.

  ShaoShu pouted. He hated being stuck in this room.

  A pouch tied to his sash began to wriggle, and ShaoShu looked down to see his pet mouse poke its head out of the soft bag. It was probably hungry. He had taken the mouse into his care while he was stowed away on a boat Tonglong had commandeered. This was before Tonglong had even become the Southern Warlord. Until now, keeping his pet happy and fed regularly had not been a problem.

  “I’m sorry, little one,” ShaoShu said, taking the mouse out and stroking its head. “I can’t just go and swipe food for us whenever I like, like I used to. I have to wait for it to be delivered. I don’t even get to pick what we eat. I know the things they have been bringing lately are no good for mice. I’m sorry.”

  The mouse looked up at him with sad eyes, and ShaoShu scratched its scrawny sides, running his fingers along its protruding ribs.