by Brian Thomas
Bulusi raised his eyebrows in mild surprise that Zun knew of the story behind the song. “All the common people have are words and songs. After a number of such incidents the Great Houses began defending their towns and villages from reprisals by the emperor’s soldiers, who rather than escalate a broad confrontation now ignore the song in preference to continuing their search for the miscreant priest.”
Zun was even more surprised the emperor’s soldiers were willing to allow such a flagrant lack of respect for the emperor to continue unchecked. This was more surprising to him than the scale of the emperor’s initial reaction to it. Bulusi raised an eyebrow again. “The people’s sympathies appear to be with the mad priest rather than the emperor’s relative and life guard. Being a member of the recently dispossessed and bereaved as a result of the emperor’s actions, I can empathise with this sentiment.”
Zun was astonished at the man’s candid explanation to him, when another thought crossed his mind. “This song, what is it called?”
Bulusi gave a deprecating smile. “According to the song the dispute resulting in the priest’s precipitous action against the emperor’s nephew was over a chicken, which features in the first verse. The common people refer to the song as the Chicken Song, though I believe it has a different title which I do not recall.”
Zun looked across to Shushan standing beside and slightly behind Bulusi as he spoke. She had gone pale at his casual and unexpected reference to events at her village resulting in her father being taken to The Sun Palace. Zun thought back to Peng, the lieutenant who had been with his father when attacking the villager’s camp. His bizarre questions had been about birds and bird song. Could those questions have been related to this Chicken Song, the source of such mayhem?
Thinking of Li Chin Zun was bitter as he said, “This priest poisons the life of all those he comes in contact with. The sooner he is apprehended the better.” Shushan shot him an accusing glance looking ready to defend the priest so Zun quickly changed the subject. “What is it you seek in your new home and what would it take to persuade you to stay with us here Bulusi?”
Bulusi was guarded, thinking carefully before responding. “I will know it when I see it but I have no desire to be under the protection of another master, where my goods are taken for a fraction of their value and I remain in poverty, despite the quality and demand for my work. It will be somewhere where my skills are appreciated and rewarded fairly, somewhere I may raise my sons without fear they will end up dead by a master’s warrior for some petty slight.” Bulusi looked pointedly around at the stockade and half completed buildings. “Somewhere of substance, which can afford my goods and offer the comforts of civilisation. Somewhere that will prove a safe haven for me and my sons as I grow old.” From his expression Bulusi did not observe all of his requirements in their fledgling town.
Zun was disappointed. Bulusi seemed resolute in his requirements and no amount of words from Zun could lift the embryonic nature of their enterprise to match Bulusi’s expectations. Nevertheless, “If you were to join us you would hold status amongst us as our town grows, as it surely will. You would have the prestige of being a founding citizen of importance.”
Zun was relieved Bulusi did not laugh at the blatant exaggeration of what was currently barely a village out of its infancy. “Perhaps if you do not settle permanently, then you could stay for a time and produce bows for us while you are here. In that time we would do our best to persuade you we seek the same things and it is because no such place exists elsewhere we have come together to make it happen here, in New Town.”
Bulusi gave a brief bow of his head but very nearly sighed as he began. “I assume from your words you do not know how long it takes to construct a bow of good quality, which,” Bulusi looked around him at the sparsely armed peasants, “you will need to arm your new town’s army.”
Zun had to admit that he didn’t know how long it would take to construct a bow. Provisioning of the armoury at House Yeu had always been the responsibility of the House chamberlains.
Bulusi adopted a slightly lecturing tone as he saw Zun’s expression. “The materials have to be very carefully selected and prepared. The wood, bamboo or mulberry are the preferred materials though yew will do almost as well, must be gathered and shaped before being laid down for a year to season. The bow is constructed by joining the seasoned wood to layers of buffalo horn. Ox if buffalo cannot be obtained but buffalo is better as it does not twist as it grows. All is bound using glue and sinew. The sinew can be obtained from a number of sources, the skin from the inside of a fish’s mouth is preferred or alternatively the ligaments from animals. All of the parts must be shaped and bound together before gluing and left for a further year.”
Bulusi looked pointedly around their little group. “I see a few oxen but no buffalo. I see a river, but the fish sinew is usually obtained from around the coast where fish are in more abundance.” Bulusi looked pointedly to the head of the valley in the mountains providing the source of the river running through their valley. “I see much hope and ambition but little wealth or the comforts of civilisation.” Looking slightly embarrassed at his lecturing tone Bulusi continued. “I mean no disrespect to you or your enterprise but I believe your task a difficult one and your continued existence precarious until you have strong walls to protect you with sufficient soldiers to man them.”
Zun was surprised and disappointed it took so long to construct the bows he needed desperately. As to the rest of it, he found Bulusi’s directness refreshing after the years of prevaricating by officials he had suffered at House Yew. “Do you have any bows or materials with you for sale?”
Bulusi was cautious in his reply. “I was able to save some of my stores before I left my house to burn. Do you have any coin to purchase them with?”
Zun had expected nothing less and he gave a broad smile as he replied. “Our group has no resource other than their own skills and energy. If you were to stay here and help us grow our town we would build you a workshop to envy any you would be able to secure within the empire. We would ensure you had the help needed to produce as many bows as you were able to make, with a ready market to purchase them at a fair price. I have no doubt you would become wealthy from the demand for your produce within our town and what we could trade outside. In the meantime, I would buy all the stocks you have at the price you ask but will need two years to pay you the money.”
Bulusi was interested at what Zun had to say, until at the last the interest in his eyes faded. “This location is beautiful but life is short and I cannot wait that long for payment.” With a frank look at Zun he added, “Who knows what may occur in such a long time.” Zun gave a grim smile at Bulusi’s polite way of expressing his doubt of their survival. Bulusi looked with a little trepidation at Zun. “I am sorry, I mean no offence.”
Zun nodded to Bulusi. He was disappointed but not surprised. Zun himself only gave their enterprise less than even odds, especially without quality weapons to protect it. “We will find another way. Perhaps you could speak with our own artisans to offer what advice you can. If you would do this we will feed you and your men this evening, even provide you all with a breakfast before you set off. How many are in your party?”
Bulusi smiled. “I am relieved you do not intend to force the issue and I would be honoured to assist in this way. We are twenty. Myself, my three sons and sixteen assistants who chose to follow me.” Hesitating before he continued Bulusi concluded, “The rest of our families were destroyed in the flames of the town we left behind. We are our own family now.”
Zun was touched by Bulusi’s frankness and was even more disappointed he was not able to persuade him to stay. “As we are to each other here.” Zun returned firmly.
They began walking with Bulusi to the stockade gates. On reaching them they saw a young man running towards the stockade from the old town, his chest labouring to get enough breath. “Bulusi, come quickly, men from the town are trying to take our goods from the wagons. We trie
d to leave but they outnumber us and are blocking the street.” Bulusi grew pale as he listened and without saying a word began running towards the town. The young man following but struggling to keep up, exhausted at running this far to find Bulusi.
Zun gave a grim smile. “Shushan, quickly gather all the men we have with bows and the men we have been training with the sword. They are all to come to Old Town as quickly as they can. When they get to the edge of town they are to enter it at a slow walk, side by side with the bowmen at either end and behind the swordsmen. Go quickly.” Shushan sped off while Zun followed Bulusi and the young man as they ran towards Old Town, though at a slower pace than the racing pair. He did not want to arrive too soon but neither did he want to arrive too late to take advantage of an opportunity, if one presented itself. Zun had no illusions regarding the precarious state of New Town, they needed to do all they could to improve its chances of surviving.
By the time Zun caught up with them he had no trouble identifying Bulusi’s wagons. There were ten of them, still attached to oxen and drawn up in a line to one side of the main street. A crowd had formed in a rough circle around them lining the area in front of the buildings and across the street to watch what was going on. When Zun reached the crowd he gently eased his way past the watching citizens to get a clear view of events.
It seemed that even more rough types had entered the town and there were about thirty of them spread around the wagons, clearly gearing up for a fight with Bulusi’s men who stood on top of the stacked goods inside their wagons. The covers of the end wagon had been pulled back to expose hundreds of completed bow staves. Standing near the wagon was one of the thugs nursing a livid cut from a bull whip across his face, raw and bleeding. On the driver’s bench was a man bleeding from a stab wound to his abdomen and his face was bleeding freely from where he had also either been kicked or hit with something.
The thug with the cut face was holding a drawn sword, blood dripping from its tip to the ground in small drops. “The price has gone up. We want the wagons and all of the goods. Raise another whip or a sword and you all die and I get the wagons anyway.”
Bulusi looked desperately around at the town’s citizens as he assessed the situation, gasping out. “Will no one assist us? We are being robbed in your town!”
The citizens mostly looked down at their feet unwilling to meet his eyes. None of them were armed and they lived with intimidation on a daily basis, knowing if they tried to help they would be included in the slaughter as well. The man who had spoken to Bulusi laughed maliciously. “No good looking to these old men and women. No one is going to help you. They know better than to try. Last chance, if I have to come get you it won’t be pretty and if any of my men are hurt it will be fatal for the rest of you.”
Zun looked from one stacked wagon to the others. If they all contained the same sort of goods the contents were very valuable and could be easily traded for gold. The men who took them would be rich, even allowing for the goods being obviously stolen when they came to sell them. Bulusi looked round at the cowed faces in the crowd, catching sight of Zun. “Help me! These men are your enemies also!” He called out desperately.
As Bulusi spoke the gang’s leader turned to see who he spoke to, snarling in defiance at Zun whilst looking to either side to see which of his men were on hand. “We have no interest in you. Go back to your cesspit on the hill and stay out of this or you will go down with them!”
The men surrounding the wagons had increased to almost forty as others had come to share the rich bounty and they started closing towards Zun menacingly in a loose line. The citizens who had been either side of Zun disappeared leaving him to stand alone, apparently unconcerned as he looked up at Bulusi. “Our community protects only its own goods and those who have chosen to live within it. Our interest and protection does not extend to this town or its citizens.” Zun’s tone was matter of fact. His demeanour one of only interest in the proceedings as they unfolded before him, showing no tension or concern over the circumstances.
The man with the cut face threw back his head to laugh, while his men noticeably relaxed with knowing sneers on their faces. Turning back to Bulusi and the men on top of the wagons his eyes grew vicious. “There are only wolves and carrion in this town, my little chicken. Now get off my wagons before I lose patience.”
Bulusi looked desperately at the men closing in on him, some starting to draw their weapons with smirks of anticipation on their faces as they did so. All of Bulusi’s men had swords and knives, three even had bows with arrows knocked and ready to draw and fire. But they, as well as Bulusi, knew they had no chance against so many spread as they were and especially now the value of the wagons’ contents had been revealed. There would be no keeping the gangs away without a fight, which Bulusi’s men could not win.
Zun’s voice was almost nonchalant as he said thoughtfully. “Of course, if you decided to accept my previous offer, then they would become my goods and you would become citizens under our protection.”
Thinking his battle already won the gang leader glared angrily at Zun, whilst Bulusi threw Zun a bitter glance before turning back to the men surrounding his wagons. With resignation turning to spite as he glanced to the gang’s leader he shouted, “Done! A bargain is made.”
Zun repeated quietly but loud enough to be heard. “A bargain is made.” Zun dropped his nonchalant stance to draw his own two swords with a ringing chime as they cleared their sheaths. The gang leader was suddenly uncertain and nervous at the rapid change in circumstances he didn’t understand. Zun called out clearly. “These goods are mine. Touch them and die!”
The men facing him brandished their weapons, handling them nervously whilst looking to their leader for direction. Those who had not already seen Zun in action had heard of him and none wanted to be first. Their leader knew he had to make a move quickly or lose their support. “Take him now!” And so saying ran without looking to see who supported him right at Zun, roaring as loud as he could. Triggered by the command and the sight of their leader charging the rest of his men also charged at Zun, screaming as they came.
Zun stepped to one side and then immediately forward to meet the nearest man, ducking below his clumsy slash before flicking his sword tip at the man’s throat, simultaneously stabbing another below his ribs with the other blade. Stepping between the men as they fell his swords came up to block a chopping blow from a screaming man with a missing front tooth, kicking the man back Zun lashed out to fend off blows from either side, taking out another throat on the right.
Zun was not still for a moment, pushing the fight up close to his attackers and giving them no room but he was now surrounded as he swung both swords independently to fend off the frustrated attacks from the maddened men desperate to reach him. Suddenly, some of the men behind him cried out and fell forward on to their fellows, just as there was a shouted command to charge from behind them.
The men struggled to turn and face the new threat, while Zun renewed his attack. Suddenly, what remained of his attackers melted away leaving their dead and badly wounded behind. Zun turned to see the twenty men he had been training with the sword standing shoulder to shoulder and a few he did not know by name with spears at either end of their row. Many held bloodied weapons, moments before thrust in the backs of his now fallen attackers. Out on the flanks were four archers, a fleeing figure just avoiding a final shaft that landed with a solid whack in the side of a building. Zun looked around the street now empty other than for his own men and Bulusi’s men atop of their wagons.
His wagons now, Zun thought with satisfaction.
It was then Zun noticed one of his men was in fact Shushan, her face flushed and the end of her sword red with someone’s blood. His men were glancing at each other, their looks of gritted determination changing to stunned surprise that they had seen off their enemy and without a single casualty. Zun had felt a cold dread at seeing Shushan placing herself in danger so was brusque as he ordered them to finish off the wounded
and to collect fallen weapons or anything else of value.
Turning to Bulusi who sat wide-eyed atop of the lead wagon Zun told him to turn the wagons around and drive them to the stockade. He would feel better when they were all behind its protective walls again, as looking around at the fallen Zun could see no sign of the gang’s leader amongst the dead. Two had died from arrows fired by Bulusi’s men from on top of the wagons and Zun knew he had been fortunate none of their enemy had held bows of their own and he was anxious to get clear before they discovered any. As they formed a defensive rear guard to escort the wagons back to their stockade Zun wondered if they might have a chance of survival after all. At least their chances had now improved significantly with the acquisition of the bows and Bulusi, if he would stay.
When they were inside the safety of the stockade and the bar had come down across the gates Zun relaxed. All of their community had gathered to watch the cavalcade make its slow way up the incline and through the gates. With the gates closed behind them and the locking bar dropped into place Zun looked at the sea of concerned faces that strained to see who had returned and what they had brought back.
Zun climbed up on to a stacked wagon to speak to them. “Today is a momentous day. Today this man, Bulusi, agreed to sell his goods to our community on credit. His goods are valuable beyond measure to us. They are the materials which will allow us to ensure our survival against those who would seek to destroy us or rule us.” Throwing back one of the wagon covers Zun exposed the individually wrapped and carefully stacked bow staves, the oiled wood gleaming in the light.
“We have bows, not any bows but the finest crafted by a master of his trade, Bulusi.” Angry at seeing his recently relinquished goods being displayed and embarrassed at being the sudden centre of attention Bulusi was unexpectedly flustered as all eyes turned to him. “We must make Bulusi and his men welcome amongst us. We owe him a great debt of honour for his faith in our enterprise, which is such that he has agreed generous credit terms.” Bulusi was even more flustered as the people looked to him curiously, many bowing their appreciation and smiling in welcome. “His skills and craft are invaluable to our community. Make him and his men feel welcome amongst us and let us all do our best to convince them to join us, to build their future alongside our own.” Bulusi flushed a bright red and glared at Zun, as almost everyone looking on smiled a welcome and bowed to Bulusi and his men.