by Brian Thomas
Shushan walked with the bowl and empty flask towards the communal cooking pot tended by her mother and sat beside it. Laulun asked anxiously. “I heard voices; they sounded angry. All is well?”
Shushan replied straight faced. “He said his life was no longer worth having, so I tried to take it.” Her mother looked shocked at her admission, so she added reluctantly. “He told me that I wasn’t doing it right!”
Laulun got over her initial shock and looked into the pot as she continued stirring. “Ah.” A sound, not even a word, yet loaded with understanding. Shushan frowned at her mother’s studied concentration on the pot’s contents. Suddenly, she and her mother laughed together. But both of them sobered as it brought home memories of Xiou, who neither of them expected to see again.
Shushan was late. Zun had started to look forward to her visits, they had become an oasis of relief in a morass of melancholy around his failures and the associated shame it brought. While Shushan was with him he was able to avoid thinking of it for a few moments. When she was away, left to his own devices and weak as he was, he seemed able to think of nothing else.
He remembered with a smile the first time she had returned after trying to stab him. She had climbed into the rear of the cart and entered his tent, feeding him soup with the wooden spoon as before and not saying a word while her expression gave away nothing. When he had finished the soup he asked how they came to be with the priest, a traitor to his oaths and shunned by his own kind. At first he thought she wouldn’t answer but slowly she told him about how Zu Wah’s men had taken her father at the village. How they had all expected him to be executed, until Li Chin had inexplicably turned on his master and afterward killed the life guard. Despite Li Chin’s intervention, how her father had still been taken and how they expected would not return. His last words cautioning them to flee and save themselves. Shushan had looked at him accusingly. “For what reason, why was he taken, why did we have to leave our home? Because a master willed it and his warriors were there to enforce his will. Whereas, this traitor you seek tried only to save us.”
Zun had wanted to defend their society, his oaths and the reasons why they were so important to everyone in the empire. But in the face of the injustice she had suffered there could be no sufficient justification for her and her people. Zun also knew there were countless other similar injustices and he could think of no words to explain how they were right either. Instead he had said. “It is the way of things, masters’ rule and their will is wrought by their sworn men, it always has been and always will be.” Even to him it sounded inadequate but it was what he had lived by all of his life, enshrined in the warriors’ codes.
Shushan had stared straight at him and said. “Why? Why must it be the way, that such parasites live off the sweat of the poor and why is it that men of courage and honour choose to support such leeches?” He had thought to tell her how it kept their country strong, protected them from invasion by other peoples but instead had asked her why she was trying to save him if she hated him and his kind so much.
Her face had been deadly serious as Shushan told him she would never bow to another master or allow anyone to be her lord again. She would fight, die if she must, rather than live as she had and Zun only lived because the priest had willed it, requesting that she cared for him, which she did only because of her debt to the priest.
When Zun discovered he lived at the priest’s request he had become angry and spoke without thinking, telling her she would be better killing him while he was still weak, unable to defend himself. Looking straight at Zun she had told him if she believed he had become a real threat to them, she had decided to poison his soup. Shocked, he had been unable to resist glancing at the empty bowl and when he had looked up again, saw her superior expression and barely suppressed smile. Initially angry at being the subject of her amusement, he too had smiled once she left his tent. Though, as he drifted to sleep once again, he had wondered if she really would poison him. Remembering her earlier determination, he had decided she would if she thought it necessary.
Unable to wait any longer Zun pushed back the cover, easing from the tent and the back of the cart to the ground. For a moment he held on to the back of the cart until his head stopped spinning. When at last it cleared he worked his way around the end of the cart to see the villagers sitting around the fire, eating food taken from the communal pot supported on a tripod over the flames. On a fallen log there was a space next to Shushan, an empty bowl waiting for him. Many of the villagers smiled a welcome, bobbing a casual greeting over their food but without pausing in the rhythm of pushing food from bowl to mouth. Their leader, the woman he had assumed was Shushan’s mother, gestured for him to sit as Shushan said, “We decided it was time you came and joined us for your meal. Tomorrow you will have to walk as Mengpo says that he is tired of pulling you.”
An enormous man, who balanced one child on his knee and rested his bowl on the head of another sitting between his legs, raised his eyebrows in surprise and chuckled good-humouredly, without pausing as he continued to shovel in his food.
Trying to suppress a mischievous smile, Shushan added, “The day after tomorrow, Mengpo is looking forward to a ride in the cart while you pull him for a change.” Mengpo nearly chocked as he ate but nevertheless looked pleased at the prospect and most of the villagers laughed, glancing to Zun for his reaction.
Zun gave a brief bow to Mengpo. “My thanks to you, Mengpo.”
All of the villagers were smiling now and welcoming him to their fire and the chatter, which had stopped when he had emerged from the cart, started again as though he were not there. Or rather as if he had always been there. Zun had spent most of his life in male dominated army barracks and had little experience of women and mixed communities, any communities other than martial ones, since he had been a small child.
This was different to what he was used to and added to his unsettled state, everything seemed wrong, displaced like a smashed vase glued back together but not quite to its original shape. But for the moment he enjoyed the meal and their company, though he did so discreetly, letting them talk amongst themselves while he listened and wrestled with his internal demons.
Lieutenant Peng scowled at the junction. Which way should he go? The men and Captain Kanto stood waiting for his decision. At the last junction he had split his force and he was now down to five men plus the captain. He had pushed them all and it looked as though it had been for nothing.
Curse the priest, curse the Spirits and curse his own gullibility in listening to that old crone and allowing his hopes to be raised, despite his better sense. Unable to contain his frustration any longer Peng raised a fist to the heavens ready to damn the Spirits when, directly above, Peng could see an arrowhead of geese flying in the same direction as the left fork. Standing open mouthed the curse forgotten, he instead smiled at Captain Kanto. “When it comes to decide, the answer will be in the sky,” she said! Ha, the Spirits favour me today Captain!”
Captain Kanto looked from the flying geese to Lieutenant Peng, now striding enthusiastically down the road in the same direction as the arrowhead of geese. He wondered what future Old Leckey had set for them all. One thing he was certain of, Peng was not likely to enjoy it as much as he anticipated. Not if Kanto had understood Old Leckey correctly.
Chapter 19
Li Chin emerged from the woods at the edge of the road. He was hungry. He had been hungry in the past but had never fared so poorly before over such an extended period. It was another revelation of the privileged life he had led, where the Temple or his master had provided for all of his needs.
He had left the villagers several weeks ago, stretching the meagre store of food he had taken with him. On parting company with the villagers Li Chin had been confident he would be able to find food as he travelled. But with the arrival of Lieutenant Zun and his men the necessity to travel quickly had been uppermost in his mind, impelling him to press on. He had restricted his foraging, preferring to spend the time p
utting distance between himself and the inevitable search parties. Even so, Li Chin had been disappointed at the meagre pickings and to maintain his pace he would need to eat something substantial again soon.
He sat on a fallen log at the side of the road to rest, watching as an old woman walked towards him. She was bent double by a huge bundle of firewood held precariously in place on her back by a broad strap across her brow. Her hair was almost entirely white, her clothes worn by hard work and she used an old walking stick. Despite her load, age and twisted back, she made steady progress towards him. When she came alongside she paused and laid her bundle of firewood down with a heartfelt sigh, easing herself down onto the log beside him. Li Chin looked at the bundle of firewood and glanced at the old woman with respect, the burden she carried looked heavy. “Good day to you, Mother.”
The old woman looked sideways at Li Chin, who was struck by the bright vitality in the old woman’s eyes. They twinkled with intelligence as she regarded him, her head cocked slightly to one side like a curious bird. Li Chin had the uncomfortable feeling of how a rabbit might feel under the sharp gaze of a hawk. “Mother is it?” the old woman shook her head slightly. “You can always tell when a man is feeling sorry for himself and wants something, first thing he does is think of his mother. He thinks back to the time when he was a youngster and his poor mother would give for the asking, without a second thought that she would go without to do so. Well, my mothering days are over and if you want something from me you will have to pay or trade for it, Son.”
Li Chin was amused and chuckled. There was a time not so long ago when he would have been affronted by such an open lack of courtesy or respect. Now, he was beginning to readjust his values and, while he acknowledged his own pride, he was less concerned with how others regarded him than how he regarded himself. “Rest easy, I want nothing from you, Mother, other than to share this log for a short while and enjoy the day before I continue my journey.” Li Chin gave a brief bow with a small smile, offering a common courtesy and respect due to all elders.
The old woman chuckled. “A man who wants nothing, surely there is no such thing. What have you to trade? Perhaps I can read your future and tell you how best to make your fortune, to find what you seek, to discover happiness, Son.”
Li Chin eyed the old woman cautiously. “And which future would that be then? If the future were so certain it could be foretold would it not happen whether you told me of it or not? Or would the future be set in the telling of it, for knowing of events before they happen will inevitably influence their outcome. Thank you for the offer, Mother, but I believe our future is not set and I will make what I can of it by my own choices, rather than trying to realise a telling, which may sound more attractive in the telling than it turns out to be in real life.”
The old woman rocked back, slapping her skinny knees through her worn gown in appreciation. “Ah, you be a smart one. But tell me, if a reading could warn you of a danger which might be avoided, or a goal that might be achieved with foreknowledge, would it not be worth hearing, Son?”
Li Chin was conscious of the sharp intensity in her bright eyes, which continued to study him as if he were a fascinating curiosity of some kind, but decided his caution was unfounded. She was, after all, only an old woman and he was enjoying the conversation, especially after being alone for so long. “All dangers ahead might be avoided just as all goals might be achieved, so long as the future remains unknown. Once we accept the future is cast in stone for us and we already know the outcome, I imagine all the possibilities which might have been possible no longer could be. Who would pursue a dream or attempt the seemingly impossible if they knew it could never be achieved.” Li Chin shook his head thoughtfully. “I prefer my future to be limited only by my imagination, where all things might be possible because I do not know that they are not. Besides, I have nothing of value to trade, Mother. I am living off the generosity and sparse offerings of the land and its people, offering medicine and healing in return where I can.” Li Chin patted his shoulder bag, which contained herbs he had been collecting along his way, with more success than he had been able to gather food. “Perhaps I could assist you with an ailment you might have, in exchange for some of your own generosity?” Li Chin glanced at a wrapped bundle he had spotted poking out of the old woman’s pocket, which looked suspiciously like something edible and was already setting his stomach grumbling.
The old woman laughed out loud again, displaying a few isolated black teeth. “I cannot sell a telling to one who refuses to accept it as a true one and I will not take herb treatment I can gather for myself. Unless, that is, you can cure me of old age and make me young again eh, Son?” Spotting that Li Chin had noticed her wrapped bundle the old woman’s eyes narrowed. “And if you cannot trade, would you steal from an old defenceless woman, taking from the weak and needy because you are strong enough to do so?”
Li Chin was shocked she would think this but also at the realisation he had been thinking of how to persuade the woman to give or share her food, when she was obviously old and poor. He stood with a small bow. “Fear not old Mother, though I am hungry I have nothing to trade and must be on my way.”
He was about to turn away when she said gruffly. “Do not be too hasty, Son. There is always something to trade if you truly want to. But once you have made a bargain, will you stick to it, eh?”
Since breaking his oath to the Temple Li Chin had constantly questioned his own integrity. Having broken his oath to the Temple would this weaken his resolve in the future once the difficulties of any task he committed himself to became too great for him to bear? Was he merely deluding himself he was a man of courage and honour, as T’ze believed, when in reality he had neither. It was a sensitive subject for Li Chin and, affronted by the old woman’s challenge his reply was spoken quickly from his injured pride. “My word is steel. What did you have in mind?”
“I have food at my house and a heavy load to carry to it. You have broad shoulders and an appetite to match. Carry my load, split the logs and those already there for kindling. In return I shall feed you with simple fare and possibly throw in something extra.” The old woman fixed him with her bright, bird-like eyes again. “If you don’t whine along the way that is, Son.”
Li Chin looked at the heavy load ominously, but if the old woman could carry it back to her house then surely he could, especially if it would result in a meal. Sighing philosophically at how a priest from the mighty Temple respected and feared across the empire was reduced to manual labour, he took up the load. Manhandling it to his back, he placed the head strap across his own forehead and over his bandanna, just as the old woman had worn it earlier. Shocked at its weight, Li Chin forced a smile past the grimace threatening to escape past his gritted teeth. “Agreed; a bargain is made Mother, a meal for use of my broad shoulders and split wood at the end.”
The old woman chuckled while she looked on in satisfaction. “And no whining along the way; a bargain is made!”
Li Chin forced the grin to hold, despite the strain of holding the load and the pressure the head strap placed on his neck and shoulders. “Lead the way good Mother!” Spirits! How had the old woman been able to even pick up such a load, let alone carry it, or had the lack of food left him far weaker than he had realised? Li Chin thought her house could not be far, otherwise she would not have attempted to carry the load herself but he was already wondering if it might be further than the promised meal was worth.
The old woman chuckled as she set off, leading the way for Li Chin who was doubled over to carry the huge and cumbersome bundle and already sweating from the exertion. “This way then Son,” she chuckled in good humour again, while Li Chin cleared his mind to focus on not spilling the wood, increasingly suspicious he had been gulled in to a poor bargain.
While they walked Li Chin could hear the old woman muttering while fiddling with something she had withdrawn from her pocket. Struggling to set the head strap more comfortably it slipped lower than he intended,
almost completely covering his eyes and restricting his vision to the ground immediately in front of his feet. Gritting his teeth, Li Chin maintained a slow but steady pace, which barely kept up with the now sprightly step of the old woman.
Old Leckey pulled the small carved figure from her pocket, the scratched symbol of the Temple on its forehead concealed behind a strip of white linen, much as Li Chin’s own tattoo was concealed by the head strap. Tied to the small figure’s back was a collection of twigs, held in place by some old twine mixed with a few of Leckey’s own hairs. Mumbling an incantation as she walked, Old Leckey tugged the small white bandanna over the figure’s eyes. Looking across to Li Chin she chuckled out loud as the strap across his forehead slipped down while he struggled with the load, almost covering his face and restricting his vision to directly below his bowed head.
Li Chin, unable to resist the temptation gasped out. “Is your house far, Mother?”
Old Leckey frowned across at Li Chin. “Far enough. You would not break our trade once made?” With pinched lips she mumbled under her breath, scooping a few more twigs from the road as she walked and added them to the bundle already on the back of the little figure.
Li Chin almost stumbled as the load seemed to suddenly become even heavier, the sweat from his brow running into his eyes causing them to smart and restrict his vision even further. “Lead on.” he managed to gasp.
As the burden began to take its toll Li Chin became less aware of his surroundings, focusing instead on merely placing one foot in front of the other. The awkward bundle was pulling against the head strap, crushing his brow and causing the muscles behind his shoulders and neck to scream under the sustained pressure. The main weight of the load against his back had developed into an excruciatingly fierce burn that gradually spread across his whole body. Li Chin had given up marvelling at how the old woman had managed to carry the load, putting some of his own difficulty down to weakness from the poor fare he had been eating of late. More than once he had considered dropping the bundle. Surely it could not be worth the effort and the pain he was suffering for a meal. But it was more than a meal. He had made a bargain, given his word to fulfil this most demeaning of menial tasks of his own free will and, much as he wanted to, his pride would not let him stop now. It had become a test of his ability to hold true to his word, for a small and worthless task that would cost him nothing to abandon. In his own mind its trivial importance had been elevated beyond all proportion and it had become paramount he continue and fulfil this simple but demanding obligation he had committed himself to of his own free will.