The Five Ancestors Book 7

by Jeff Stone

  “Wow,” Charles said. “Remind me to never make you angry.”

  “You taught me well,” Hok replied.

  “Uh-oh!” Malao cried, and Seh looked over to see half of the horsemen spur their horses to life. At least thirty-five soldiers charged toward the boat.

  “Here we go!” Charles shouted. “There is no turning back now. I am going to run us aground to give us a more stable platform to shoot from. Wait for my signal, then make every shot count!”

  Charles steered the boat toward the shore and let go of the helm. He picked up one of the many loaded muskets he kept handy and put it to his shoulder.

  Seh heard a scraping noise, and the bow of the boat rushed up onto the soft muck of the shoreline. When the boat finally stopped rocking, the soldiers were almost within pistol shot.

  “Fire!” Charles yelled.

  Fu fired first. His cannon blast sent a horseman flying, and before the man hit the ground, Seh had fired off a shot, as had Hok, Charles, and Malao.

  Soldiers began to shout, and Fu roared back in anger as Seh took aim and fired his second cannon. He had loaded this one with grapeshot—hundreds of lead balls the size of grapes. He could not believe the damage caused as it took down several soldiers.

  Hok, Malao, and Charles continued to shoot as a few horsemen returned fire, then Charles bellowed, “Cease fire!”

  The smoke cleared, and Seh saw that between the five of them, they had obliterated the attacking horsemen in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Every soldier was down. Who needed kung fu when you had weapons like these?

  “Here come some more!” Malao called out from the mast top, and Seh saw another group of horsemen advancing toward them. The remaining pack had split, and nearly twenty soldiers were barreling toward them with pistols drawn. Seh and Fu scrambled to reload their cannons.

  The next wave of soldiers came, but they did not venture within range of Seh’s grapeshot-filled cannon, so he did not fire. He saw with dismay that they were not able to do anywhere near as much damage without his deadly but short-range grapeshot. They managed to take down ten or eleven soldiers, but the rest remained unscathed, firing their pistols. The soldiers’ shots ricocheted around the boat, but fortunately neither Seh nor the others seemed to get hit.

  The soldiers retreated once their pistols had been spent, and they regrouped, huddling atop their horses in a circle beyond the range of firearms. Seh noticed that all of them had short bows and quivers of arrows strapped to the sides of their saddles.

  “Is everyone okay?” Charles asked as the smoke cleared.

  Amazingly, everyone replied that they were fine.

  Seh’s ears were ringing from all the noise, but even so he thought he heard a rushing noise, like the sound of running water. He turned toward the center of the deck, expecting to see a leak. Instead, he saw black powder pouring out of several holes in the oak barrels. Neither he nor any of the others had been hit because not all of the soldiers had been aiming at them. Some had been aiming at the stack of barrels, which were clearly labeled with large Chinese characters: Black Powder!

  “Charles, look!” Seh cried, pointing at the powder accumulating on deck.

  “Huh?” Charles replied. “Oh, no!”

  The horsemen broke their circle and formed a line, and Seh saw that each man held his short bow and three flaming arrows.

  “What do we do?” Seh asked Charles. “Dump the powder overboard?”

  “Too late,” Charles said.

  The horsemen began to charge, and Charles yelled, “Abandon ship!”

  “Never!” Fu roared.

  Hok grabbed Fu’s wrist and yanked him toward the stern of the boat, which was nearest the deepest water. Seh watched her dive in, followed by huge splashes from Charles and Fu. Seh heard a long, shrill screech followed by a small splash, as Malao leaped from somewhere high atop the rigging.

  Two flaming arrows passed over Seh’s head, and he fired his cannons in a final act of defiance.

  BOOM!

  BOOM!

  Several soldiers were torn from their horses, and Seh dove into the canal’s icy water. The shock took his breath away, yet he still kicked and swam underwater with all his might until he thought his lungs would burst.

  Then Charles’ boat exploded.

  The massive shock wave blasted Seh clear out of the water, and he managed to gulp in two mouthfuls of air before splashing back down. Pieces of charred wood and twisted iron began to fall from the sky, and he dove once more beneath the surface, staying down as long as he could. Something heavy bumped against his arm as it sank, and he pushed it away, remembering the time his mother had nearly drowned him. He hated swimming.

  When Seh surfaced again, he found things eerily still. No more debris fell, and the canal water rocked gently from the aftermath of the blast. His ears were ringing even more now, and he was winded from holding his breath so long. Other than that, he seemed fine. He spotted the burning hulk of what remained of Charles’ boat, and tried to decide which way to swim. The shore opposite the soldiers seemed like the obvious choice, but then a noise made him look toward the Forbidden City’s main gate. He could hardly believe his eyes and ears. The bandits had arrived!

  Mong, Hung, Sanfu, NgGung, and Bing were atop horses, accompanied by a thin old man who Seh had never seen before. They were literally riding circles around the remaining soldiers. While the soldiers rode fine horses, the bandits and the old man were on even more beautifully proportioned, muscular animals, with coats that practically shimmered in the moonlight. The bandits shot several of the soldiers, and as Seh began to swim toward that shore, he saw the old man pull a long rope from a bag tied to his saddle.

  Still riding in a circle around the soldiers, the old man threw the rope over one of Tonglong’s men and yanked him to the ground. The old man let go of the rope, and Sanfu leaped from his horse. He ran over to the man and tied him up.

  The old man produced a second rope and began to swing it in a wide loop over his head. By the time Seh reached shore, that rope was around another dismounted soldier and Bing was beside the soldier, tying him up like a butcher might bind a pig.

  As the old man pulled a third rope from the bag, Seh saw a mob of men rush through the darkness on foot toward the bandits and Tonglong’s horsemen. Fortunately, he recognized most of these newcomers, having trained them at the bandits’ camp. They were on the bandits’ side. They used their spears and swords admirably, dispatching any soldier who did not willingly surrender.

  Seh pulled himself onto the bank and lay there, exhausted. He glanced around, looking for the others, and saw them all together down the shoreline. He waved, and they waved back.

  Seh smiled with relief. They appeared to be fine. He looked back toward the bandits and saw NgGung approaching atop a spectacular horse. Seh thought he felt the ground begin to vibrate, and he compared what he felt with the rhythm of the horse’s hooves. They did not match.

  NgGung jumped out of his saddle and hurried over to Seh. The horse had stopped, but the vibrations continued.

  “Are you okay?” NgGung asked.

  “I thought so,” Seh replied. “But now I’m not so sure. Feel the ground. Am I imagining things?”

  NgGung knelt and rested his hand on the soft shore. His brow furrowed, and he ran several paces away from the water to firmer, drier ground, placing

  his ear against the earth.

  “What is it?” Seh asked. “An earthquake?” NgGung lifted his head, and Seh saw that his face

  had turned deathly pale in the moonlight. “No. It’s an army.”

  Long stood inside the Emperor’s suite, peering out one of the windows into the moonlit surroundings. The Emperor’s palace was one of the tallest structures within the Forbidden City, and the suite was situated at the very top of the palace. It afforded a clear view of most of the complex.

  Next to Long, Xie stared out of a second window. Across the room, Ying stared out of a third. As Wuya had said, there were soldi
ers positioned everywhere, including on the roof looking down over the windows. Long could see their shadows in the moonlight.

  Long felt betrayed by Wuya. He could not even imagine how Xie must feel.

  Together, Long and Xie watched Wuya and Tonglong advance through gate after gate on their way toward the Emperor’s palace. With them were four of Tonglong’s soldiers in red, each carrying one corner of a large crate. Long remembered aloud Hok saying that she’d seen the Emperor being loaded into a crate, and Ying added that ShaoShu had told him a similar story. Long could not imagine anyone being caged in that, especially the Emperor.

  Outside the Forbidden City, there was activity, too. All three of them had seen something that looked like fireflies next to the canal in the distance; muzzle flashes from muskets or pistols. They also saw bursts of flame from cannons, and heard their distinctive booms.

  It seemed likely that Tonglong’s men were engaging one of their enemies, but Long did not know which one. He assumed it was the bandits, because it was a smaller-scale attack, and he hoped to learn more if Wuya and Tonglong came to them. Wuya had communicated with many different soldiers as they walked, and he was sure to know what was going on. Whatever it was was obviously of little concern to Wuya or Tonglong in the safety of the Forbidden City, for both of them continued their march in the direction of the palace.

  Suddenly there was an enormous explosion at the battle scene. A huge ball of fire rose into the sky, and Tonglong and Wuya turned to watch it for a moment. In the moonlight, Long could see that Tonglong was laughing heartily. Wuya did not appear to react in any manner. He just turned back toward the palace and continued walking.

  “Xie,” Long said. “What do you think Wuya and Tonglong are up to?”

  “It seems obvious that Wuya has sold himself and his loyalty to Tonglong,” Xie replied.

  “Yes,” Long said, “but why keep the Emperor alive? How come Tonglong does not just seize the throne?”

  “He might have been able to do that with his army and an outright assault on the Forbidden City, but in a political takeover such as Tonglong is attempting there must be substantial documentation. I suspect they are keeping the Emperor alive because Tonglong needs the imperial seals. The Emperor keeps them hidden, and only he knows the hiding place.”

  “Couldn’t Tonglong just make new seals?” Ying asked.

  “He could, but it would require finding a master seal maker and then waiting months for all of them to be duplicated from previously sealed documents. Tonglong does not appear to be a very patient man.”

  “You have no idea how impatient and obsessive he can be,” Ying said. “Xie, you are the Emperor’s personal bodyguard. Where do you think he keeps his seals?”

  “My best guess would be somewhere in this room.”

  “What?” Ying said, stepping away from the window. “That means Tonglong and Wuya are probably coming here right now! We need to get ready.”

  “There is nothing to get ready for,” Xie said. “We will have to take things as they come. If the opportunity to fight presents itself, we shall. However, this is highly unlikely. There are three thousand Forbidden City soldiers out there, and they all report to Wuya. We can’t fight that. Besides, Wuya will never present himself as a target. He carries two pistols that hold two shots each. They are of the finest quality, and he is the best shot in China. How do you think he came to be the head of security?”

  “I will take my chances,” Ying said, glancing around. “I spent a little time in one of the Emperor’s prisons. I will never go back. Death is preferable.” His eyes locked on the main suite door, and he hurried over to it, then ran his fingers along the wall around it. Here, the wall was made up of small decorative bricks. Ying removed his boots, and Long saw that his toenails were extraordinarily long, just like the nails on his fingers.

  Ying jammed his toes and fingers into spaces between the wall bricks, and he began to climb. He positioned himself over the doorway, holding fast like an eagle clinging to the side of its nest.

  Long looked back out of the window and saw that Wuya and Tonglong had disappeared. A few moments later, Long heard talking on the other side of the door. People were coming. He heard Wuya say, “We are about to enter the Emperor’s private suite. I believe the seals are hidden here. Inside you will also find the surprises I mentioned earlier. Brace yourself.”

  Someone placed a key within the lock, and Long backed away from the door. It opened, and Wuya entered with Tonglong and the four soldiers carrying the large dilapidated crate. The crate reeked of neglected pigs. In the hall stood several Forbidden City soldiers, standing guard.

  Tonglong saw Long and Xie, and he laughed. “Unbelievable! The two most wanted individuals on my criminal list, and here they are, waiting for me inside my new chambers. Wuya, perhaps I will let you be the one to execute Xie. It would be fitting for you to take his title as the new Western Warlord by removing his head with a jade sword. The stone is surprisingly sharp.”

  “You will pay for this, Wuya!” Xie said. “If not in this lifetime, in the next.”

  Wuya shrugged and stepped backward into the doorway.

  Long saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and he noticed that Tonglong was adjusting his long, thick ponytail braid over the shoulder of his white jade armor.

  Ying must have noticed, too, because while Tonglong was preoccupied, he struck. Ying released his grip on the wall and soared through the air toward Tonglong with his arms held up and back in a classic eagle-style kung fu pose. However, Tonglong happened to look up at that same instant, and he ducked.

  Ying missed Tonglong and landed with a thud atop one side of the wooden crate. The jarring force of his heavy landing caused the four soldiers to lose their grip, and the crate crashed onto the suite’s hard wooden floor, splintering into a hundred pieces. A foul stench filled the room.

  Ying rolled away, shaking his head as if he were dazed, and Long saw a man lying inside the remains of the opposite side of the crate from where Ying had crashed. The man was seemingly half-dead. His face was sallow and covered in a woolly matted beard, and his clothes were little more than deeply stained shreds. He spied Xie and struggled to sit up.

  “Emperor!” Xie shouted. He bolted for the ragged man, and two of Tonglong’s soldiers sprang into action. They lunged at Xie, one low and one high.

  Xie leaped cleanly over the lower man, but the soldier who went high struck Xie square in the sternum with his shoulder. The collision ended in a stalemate, with both men dropping to their knees. The soldier held a pistol in one hand, and he slammed the butt of it into the side of Xie’s head. The impact caused the pistol to fire, the recoil driving the pistol butt against Xie’s skull a second time.

  Xie dropped into unconsciousness.

  Long could see the other soldier raising his pistol toward Xie when the soldier was shot himself. An instant later, the man who’d knocked Xie out was shot dead, as were Tonglong’s two remaining soldiers. Long looked into the doorway and saw Wuya holding two large pistols. Both pistol barrels were smoking. Wuya winked at Long.

  Tonglong roared and pointed at Wuya. “You have made me play the fool! Your game all along has been to get the Emperor back here alive, hasn’t it?”

  Wuya smirked.

  Tonglong howled. He raised the white jade sword and leaped at the Emperor.

  Long leaped, too. Closer to the Emperor than Tonglong, he got there first and yanked the ragged ruler to the ground. Tonglong tried to spin and adjust his swing downward, but could not compensate enough. The sword missed by a handbreadth. Tonglong snapped his head around, and at the same time Long saw Ying rip Grandmaster’s sword from his sash and dive recklessly toward them.

  From the corner of his eye, Long noticed the end of Tonglong’s ponytail braid swinging toward the Emperor. Ying reached out and grabbed its knotted end, then cried out. He slashed at the braid with Grandmaster’s sword, severing it close to Tonglong’s head. Tonglong’s remaining hair spilled out like
black water.

  Ying cursed, and Long saw that he was still holding the end of the braid. It was stuck to his hand with a series of metal barbs that had been hidden within the knot of hair. Ying tugged at the tangled mass and ripped it from his palm. He hurled it across the room, tottered, and then fell.

  Tonglong erupted with laughter. “A little trick from my dear mother, AnGangseh. Those barbs are tipped with her favorite poison.”

  Ying struggled to stand, and Long rushed to his side. “What are you doing?” Long whispered. “Stop moving. Slow your heart rate. I will find you an antidote.”

  Ying shook his head. “There is no antidote for what I have done. Finish my fight, Long. China is counting on you.” He pressed the sword into Long’s left hand and slipped his extra-long chain whip out of its sleeve pocket, into Long’s right hand. “Eagle Returns Home— do you remember it?”

  “The chain whip maneuver? Yes.”

  “Attack Tonglong’s left side with it. Use our grandfather’s sword to distract his right.”

  Long felt his heart warm, glad that Ying knew of their connection.

  Ying sat up suddenly and shoved Long aside with surprising force. He stood and half-stumbled, half-lunged at Tonglong.

  “No!” cried Long, snatching at Ying’s robe, but he missed.

  Ying threw himself at Tonglong, swiping at Tonglong’s face with a perfectly formed eagle-claw fist tipped with five razor-sharp fingernails. Surprised, Tonglong reacted with a simple parry, thrusting the white jade sword in his hand at Ying’s stomach. Ying could easily have stepped to one side, but he did not. Instead, he allowed the jade blade to slide deep into his abdomen as he followed through with his blow.

  Long saw Ying’s fingernails dig deep into Tonglong’s left eye. Tonglong screamed and backed away, and Ying slumped to the ground in a bloody heap, the white jade sword wedged inside him.

  Long hissed like a dragon and headed for Tonglong.

  Tonglong squinted at Long with his remaining good eye and reached down for the jade sword’s hilt protruding from Ying’s torso. He was too slow.