The Warriors Path

by Brian Thomas

  Irked by her disparaging regard he nevertheless decided she must be a charlatan, confined to the provinces because her act would be transparent in the city but good enough to delude those in the backwaters. “What is it then, bones or tea leaves? Perhaps she could provide entertainment while we rest?”

  Captain Kanto straightened his back at Peng’s blatant arrogance. “Old Leckey does not scry on demand. She alone decides who she will read for.” The captain looked a little uncomfortable, despite his dislike for the young lieutenant he felt obliged to pass on a warning. “She was old when I was a young man and is well known in this area. Some believe she is able to influence the future, not just read its portents. It would be well not to treat her lightly.”

  Lieutenant Peng, unable to avoid the opportunity to bait the captain made no attempt to hide a deprecating sneer. “The old crone must have bewitched you with her charms Kanto, for she would not stand muster at the palace. Call her over and have her entertain us with our glorious futures. Afterwards, I will explain how those with genuine ability in the city would have done it better.”

  Captain Kanto stood stiffly. “If you insist, though I will take no part myself.” Kanto ground his teeth as he walked grudgingly over to Old Leckey, with Lieutenant Peng chuckling mockingly at Kanto’s reticence.

  Peng watched Captain Kanto make a brief bow to the old woman and speak briefly before she nodded and disappeared inside the hovel. In a few moments she returned without her stick, instead carrying a tray with a porcelain tea set and some knuckle bones. She had appeared too quickly to have prepared the tea after the request and as she sat cross legged in front of him, placing the tray between them and wearing a mocking smile of her own, Peng wondered if he had read the woman wrong.

  Looking from the fresh tea and bones to Captain Kanto he saw the captain suck a little air through his teeth and give a small shake of his head. Having gone this far though his pride would not let him change course in front of the captain. “How much for you to use your craft and read my future old woman?”

  Old Leckey gave a small smile in return, showing more than a few gaps in her teeth. Those few remaining were stained brown and black. “No charge today, not for the Scorpion Battalion’s first sword. We are honoured by his presence.” Old Leckey finished with a small bow of her head.

  Peng was surprised she knew he was first sword. Perhaps she had heard their patrol was coming this way and his reputation preceded him, after all his fame was quickly growing within the city. His pleasure at the flattery outweighed any sense of caution he might have felt and he leaned forward in anticipation and curiosity at the ritual. Old Leckey had poured him a bowl of gently steaming green tea and bid him hold the bowl in his cupped hands while he drank.

  Old Leckey took up the knuckles in her own upturned palms, her gnarled fingers caressing the ancient bones polished with much use. He watched fascinated as she mumbled words he could not quite catch, her face turning towards the sky, her eyes gradually rolling to the back of her head, until they displayed only the whites. Suddenly, she tipped her head forward and cast the knuckles on the ground to spread between them, almost causing him to jump and spill his tea in alarm.

  Peng could see no discernable pattern in the bones as they lay and when he looked up the old woman was looking at him, with her slightly mocking smile again. “To see the road of the future we must first establish the road from the past and place our backs to it.” she declared in explanation. Old Leckey began examining the scattered bones, occasionally using an extended and twisted forefinger to slightly displace one, as if trying to see what lay hidden beneath, without wanting to dislodge it.

  Unable to wait and genuinely intrigued, Peng asked impatiently. “Well, what is it you see?”

  Not looking up, Old Leckey continued to lightly touch the odd knuckle. “There is an ambitious young man, with great skill, trapped in a life he would escape. The young man makes a journey leading to success, which leaves great sorrow and much hardship behind him.”

  Peng frowned, he had been impatient to leave his parents’ small village and his father’s death had given him the freedom to go. In going, he had pretty much left his mother and siblings penniless and to fend for themselves. He had not heard from them since and occasionally wondered how they fared but pushed aside any concerns. To succeed as he wished he had to train in the city, which required all of his attention and resources. He was consoled with the thought one could not acquire greatness without some sacrifice and suffering along the way. “What man of ambition and enterprise has not left some sorrow in his footsteps? You must be more specific if you are to be credible old woman.”

  “More specific, is it,” murmured Old Leckey without looking up. “There is a young woman whose tears tell of love and devotion not returned, promises made but not kept, a child which was not allowed to be born….a tournament won by skill but decided on an unnecessary kill rather than a submission thereby removing the obligation of a debt to the man slain, the same debt still owed to his family but which remains unpaid. There is …”

  “Enough!” interrupted Peng, suddenly anxious to stop her rambling. “It is aid for the future I seek, old crone.”

  Looking up, her mocking smile back, Old Leckey gathered up her knuckles and placed them in a black sack. “I know the way now. Finish your tea, Champion of Chen Zouh, and as you do so think of what you desire most, leaving me the leaves to read the way to your desire.”

  Lieutenant Peng did as instructed, scowling back at her gap toothed grin over the brim of the bowl, wondering whether he should continue but nevertheless fascinated. There were many things he wanted, how to focus on just one! Nevertheless, he tried, thinking about returning to the city as soon as possible and handing the empty bowl back. The green tea leaves covered the bottom of the bowl and the side from which he had drunk the warm liquid. Old Leckey peered into the bowl, using a long fingernail to poke around the leaves and peer under others, much as she had with the knuckles, her nail making a scratching sound on the bowl which set his teeth on edge. “Well?” he demanded, trying to see for himself the message of the leaves as she poked and scratched away.

  “You want many things and it makes the reading more difficult.” She grumbled, but at last seemed satisfied. “You wish a quick return, which cannot happen until you find what you seek. To find what you seek you must travel hard and straight. When it comes to decide, the answer will be in the sky.” So saying, Old Leckey used the four fingers of her right hand to press down the displaced leaves in the base of the bowl, as though fixing them in a set pattern.

  Lieutenant Peng sat up, momentarily bemused. Then, throwing back his head he rocked back with a roar of laughter slapping both of his knees. “It is well your reading was given without a charge old crone! I was expecting beautiful women, courageous battles and glory; leaving me wrong-footed. For a moment you had me on your hook, but no more.” Standing, Lieutenant Peng strode off to gather his men, chuckling at his own gullibility as he went.

  Old Leckey looked across to Captain Kanto, who sat silently watching her. There was no mockery in his expression. “Would you have me read your future Captain?” she asked innocently, and not for the first time in their long acquaintance.

  Kanto did not respond at once and watched her cautiously, as he would a dangerous animal. “I hear you have the ability to change a man’s future and it is rarely for the better, Old Leckey. Is that what you do as you poke around those leaves, rearranging them as you wish and then sealing it fast, so that fate no longer plays a part?”

  Old Leckey chuckled and narrowed her eyes at the captain. Oh, he was a quick one and he had seen her do one too many readings for sure. “If I could do such a thing, I am sure I would not make a change that was not deserved, Captain.” She thought for a moment, relenting a little. “Even if such a thing were possible, no one’s future is cast in stone Captain. Free choice would always be a wild card and the Spirits make a mock of our best efforts.” The mocking smile returned. “A
reading for you, Captain Kanto, before you go?”

  Captain Kanto rose with a wry smile and a nod of the head before he started after Lieutenant Peng, but paused as Old Leckey called after him. “You have always been honourable Captain Kanto. Your fate is closely linked to the arrogant lieutenant here and I would give you a gift of knowledge before you go.” He paused without answering or turning to look at her, unsure whether to stay but unable to leave. “Know that your son will outlive you and, were you to live long enough, your pride in him would be as great as any father in the land. Remember this, when it will seem otherwise.”

  Kanto was still for a moment, considering what she had said and the numerous implications behind the actual words spoken. Without turning to look at her he replied. “I thank you for your gift and am relieved to hear my son is safe. Good day to you, Leckey.”

  “Goodbye Captain.” she replied and the captain’s step faltered slightly, before he straightened his shoulders, joining Lieutenant Peng and the men as they took up their journey.

  Zun could gradually feel his consciousness rising from the dark place where it seemed to have been for a long time. There was a gentle rocking motion that reminded him of being on water. Gradually he became aware of the pain in his head, from which he wanted to scurry back to the black oblivion of nothingness. As the pain subsided a little Zun thought he could hear voices, laughter even, piquing his curiosity sufficiently to make the additional effort of opening his eyes. He seemed to be in an improvised tent and the motion, he now decided, was more like a wagon than something floating. He knew he was injured but when he tried to remember how all he could conjure up was the image of a young woman, not beautiful in the classic sense but nevertheless very attractive. Her image had a serious expression and seemed to be scowling more than she smiled, though in concentration rather than angst. Thinking of her angry scowl made him want to smile and he clung to the image of her alluring face frowning down at him as he drifted to sleep, rather than unconsciousness this time.

  Zun’s eyes flicked open as the cart lurched over some obstacle and he was jolted awake. Voices were calling to each other outside his tent and he realised the people he could hear were making camp. He wanted to sit up but felt weak and lethargic, so instead he lay still, gathering his strength and waiting developments. He heard a woman laugh at something as she approached his tent just before the entrance was drawn aside, letting in bright sunlight which caused him to squint and lose tears as his eyes reacted after being under cover for so long. When he was able to open them again Zun was surprised to see the young woman he had been dreaming of and had thought just a figment of his imagination.

  Seeing he was awake she dropped her smile as she entered, assuming her more usual serious expression. Without speaking she supported his head and helped him to drink from a flask she had brought with her. As the cool liquid ran down his parched throat he realised how thirsty he was and quickly emptied the flask. Feeling better as the water took effect, the effort of drinking nevertheless had left him feeling weak again. He saw the young woman had brought a bowl of food with her and, wordlessly, she began feeding him with a wooden spoon. Frustrated at his own weakness he was tempted to take the spoon away from her, but was surprised to find he was enjoying her attention. Despite being ravenously hungry he became full before the bowl was emptied. Leaning back he thanked her, his voice sounding rough and weak to his own ears.

  They looked curiously at each other for a while, when Zun rasped. “How long have I been here?”

  “Following your injury you were unconscious for three days before you woke up. You have woken several times since then and taken water or weak broth most days for two weeks now.”

  Zun enjoyed the soft timbre of her voice but he frowned at the news, raising a hand timidly to his head, feeling the bandage and the swollen features of his face. He had been injured over two weeks ago, doing what? Zun studied the young woman, who masked her own anxieties while she knelt watching him. He frowned at the thought she looked familiar, not from the dream but elsewhere.

  The memory hit him like a blow to the stomach, it was the camp! She had been in the small crowd behind the delegation led by the old woman, possibly her mother given their similarity in looks. With that connection, the memories flooded back and his calm was shattered with his knowledge of finding the camp, the priest, his men running away, his battle and…now this.

  He had failed. Failed to maintain control and authority over his men, he had failed to execute his orders to capture the priest and he had failed, by a long way, to bring the priest down in combat. His master, Master Li Yeu, and their House would lose much face because the priest had merely raised his staff to see them run, or in his case fall beneath his stick like a novice. Any goodwill that might have accrued to their House from the emperor by initiating the search for the priest would be overshadowed by his wrath when he learned how they had merely fled from the priest once found. He had failed abysmally; he was disgraced and would bring dishonour to his House and to his father by association.

  Leaning back Zun bit back on a groan and with no target other than the young woman demanded angrily. “Why did you not let me die rather than bring me back to a life of shame and dishonour? At least with my death the disgrace of my men’s desertion would have been lessened. I can serve no good purpose living.”

  The woman scowled angrily at him. “We do not live for a purpose, we live simply because we are born and we make what we can of our lives.”

  In his shame Zun turned his face away from her. “My death in combat would have preserved my House’s honour, whereas my life will now be forfeited in shame. Life without honour is no life I wish to live.”

  Thinking of her father, Shushan’s anger flared. “The priest was right, you are not like us. You strut around like peacocks spouting of courage and honour carelessly taking the lives of those weaker than you, unable to defend themselves because their lives were spent building and growing rather than learning how to kill and destroy. But when it comes to a fall you snivel worse than a child. While those you despise as beneath you suffer worse every day but they do not snivel, no! They have no choice but to get up and overcome failure, to succeed despite obstacles. I used to think warriors strong but all of their strength is on the outside. I see now they do not have the moral resilience to live without the support of those they leech an existence from.” Shushan was almost panting at her angry outburst, her face flushed.

  Zun’s own temper rose to match hers. “You know nothing! A woman cannot know of what it takes to be a warrior, to live and die for honour!”

  “A warrior only needs to know how to kill and a woman can learn how to do that as easily as a man. As for your honour, it is a one-sided thing that lets you kill the likes of us for no reason, other than a master commands it. Your honour makes us enemies and I despise it!” Shushan was angry, angrier than she had ever been and wasn’t sure why it all came to a head now, though fears for her father and their vulnerability to the lieutenant as she could see him recovering his physical strength were roused.

  Zun was also angry. If Shushan had been a man she would have been dead at his feet by now for denigrating his honour so. Not being able to react in the way he normally would because she was a woman merely compounded his frustration. “You talk like a peasant who doesn’t know their station. You would be better for feeling a master’s rod to remind you of your role in this life, rather than harbouring traitors and criminals who fill your mind with misbegotten ideas!”

  Zun regretted the words as soon as they were said. He did not even believe them but a warrior’s oath to his master allowed no conflicts. The master’s will was law and Zun’s response was merely a reflex, prompted by his frustration and weakness. Whereas he had felt only gratitude for this woman’s help, until he remembered why he was here.

  Shushan could see the anger in Zun’s eyes and his words made her fearful of the actions he might take against her and the other villagers once he had his full strength back.
If he was the enemy she feared and they were to defend themselves, it must be now, before he recovered and she would no longer have the choice. Driven by fear of the consequences if she didn’t act soon enough, she drew a knife concealed at her waist and thrust as hard as she could for his chest.

  Zun saw Shushan’s eyes widen slightly, the pupils dilating before she struck and raised his hand as her own shot forward to his chest. Stopping the blade a mere hair’s breadth from his skin, he held her hand and the blade steady, seeing surprise but no fear in her eyes as she was unable to move her own hand any further down. Waiting until she could have no doubt he had control, Zun slowly turned the edge-up blade until it was flat. “A man’s ribs run across. If you would put a knife between them you must strike with the blade flat, so it will pass between them and not glance over them.” He said the words quietly and then released his grip.

  Shushan looked steadily into his eyes, the blade hovering over his bared chest. Dropping her eyes she sheathed the knife and he said mockingly. “You cannot find the courage it takes to finish the task but you would be doing me a favour if you could.”

  Shushan looked him in the eyes again, her anger gone. “The courage is there. But perhaps I could learn from you the skills I obviously still lack and I owe you no favours to end your suffering for you, especially when I can profit from your living.” So saying, she left the close confines and tense atmosphere of the tent.

  Zun almost smiled at her suppressed intensity. She was stronger than he had thought, whilst he was weaker than water. Completely spent, he swiftly drifted into a troubled sleep.