EARTHLY DRAGON, SOARING PALM

by Derek Dorris

  At this point, a short but portly looking man arrived on the scene, a little unsure as to what was going on. “Guard, reclaim your weapon and raise the alarm,” he ordered somewhat nonplussed. The guard wasn’t to know it but this man had been pursuing the peddler, who was in fact a Qui spy, and his intention right now was to seize him. However, there was no denying that the spy was presently covered in two people’s vomit. Apparently helpless at the moment, the pursuer decided to simply guard against his escape until reinforcements arrived.

  Needing no second chance, the spy flicked two steel darts at his pursuer. They were fast and skilfully delivered but this adversary was no post guard. His sleeves waved in defence and with a quick snap, he deflected the projectiles before sending a kick back to where they came from. The spy wasn’t in the best condition to see this attack coming but he heard it clearly enough and jumped out of the way in time.

  Reluctantly, the pursuer initiated further physical contact with his soiled adversary—initially using a series of tentative kicks in order to minimise skin contact. However, it wasn’t long before the spy sensed his repulsion and used it to his advantage.

  “Ah, you dirty cretin!” the pursuer shouted. “You did that on purpose. It’s all over me.” At this point, there was no need to hold back and so the duel geared upwards into a flurry of palms and punches. After several stances were shared, the Qui spy’s experience won out as he trapped his pursuer’s arm between his hands and gave a slight pull. The pop could be heard across the street and before the pursuer could get his bearings back, the spy was gone.

  * * *

  The hapless guard never made the barracks. A combination of dry-retching and hyperventilating saw him collapse about halfway there. When he hit the ground, it caught the attention of someone two streets over. It was late and very quiet so the sound travelled easily but this man was of particularly keen hearing so he knew whoever had fallen wasn't a drunk but someone who had run his lungs out. A swift jump over a wall onto the nearby rooftop presented him with a straight run to the source of the sound plus a safe way of surveying the scene before he dropped in on it.

  For the last ten years, this man had become highly skilled in stealth tactics as a member of an underground movement of heroes whose purpose was to reinforce the western Liu cities from within. The corrupt Liu officials had become next to useless in securing their kingdom’s borders and were too easily bought off by the Qui in the first place. Whatever resistance the Qui armies had met came in the form of clandestine attacks led by this underground organisation known throughout the land as the “Plum Tree Brotherhood”. Though this man was only in his thirties, he was one of the brotherhood's senior members and had been with them since their inception a decade earlier.

  After running into trouble on the way to Earthly Mountain, he and his companion had been rescued by a young hero who led them down the mountain and introduced them to his master, a strange old man of immense power who requested their help in routing some Qui agitators in a nearby town. From then onwards, the two friends declared their loyalty to their benefactors and followed their path. Although, they weren't disciples of the old master they had been lucky enough to learn some useful skills from the young hero who was the heir to his master’s school. The problem was they seldom got to see the young hero and rarer still saw his old master. The latter two would come and go like the wind, setting up resistance groups here, solving local disputes there. They were essentially the brains of the Brotherhood while the man, who was now tiptoeing across the rooftop, was one of its many eyes, ears, arms, and legs.

  Jumping down into the street, he checked the guard for injuries but despite an overwhelming smell of vomit, there were no signs of damage. It was strange though and he immediately suspected the Qui spy, who he and his companion were searching for, had used poison. His concern for his friend swelled and he darted towards the nearest town gate only to see his friend lying in the dust holding his shoulder.

  “Brother Chen. Are you hurt?”

  “No. But that was one of the weirdest fights I've ever got into. I'm afraid he bested me.” The injured party was Wu Chen, one of the two men who had taken Bai Feng to Earthly Mountain years earlier and his companion was of course Li Jing, the younger but smarter of the two.

  As Wu Chen got up to his feet, the smell of vomit once again assailed Li Jing’s nostrils and he involuntarily took a step back. “Was poison used?” he asked hurriedly.

  “I'm not sure. But I didn't ingest any of it. That bastard spy was covered in puke and it got all over my clothes when I wrestled with him.”

  Knowing that Wu Chen wasn't in any danger, Li Jing let out a long sigh of relief. Only then did he consider the state of both the exhausted guard and his best friend. The funniness of the situation hit him but knowing Wu Chen was a short tempered man, he attempted to stifle his laughter.

  Wu Chen knew exactly what he was doing. “Oh yeah? This is very funny right? Well, I sacrificed my hygiene to tackle that foul son of a goat spy bastard and all you can do is snigger!”

  Wu Chen was indignant which only pushed Li Jing further. The laughter tumbled out to the increasing dissatisfaction of his friend. But the angrier he got, the funnier Li Jing found it.

  “You call yourself a friend, if you'd any sense of honour you'd go home and get a bath ready for me!” Li Jing was on his knees now, panting for breath and Wu Chen had enough. With a wild roar he lunged for Li Jing in an attempt to smear him with the very vomit he found so funny, Li Jing stumbled backwards but it was too late and the duo rolled in the dust. Soon, they were both howling. Some late night passersby began to gather, watching in disbelief.

  * * *

  The Qui spy had been in many strange situations but that last encounter was one for the books. However, he still had a rendezvous to make. The information he had to deliver was critical. He picked up the pace and in an attempt to relieve himself of the pungent smell, he stripped off all superfluous clothing as he ran. Entering an area of grassland, he found a pond and dived in head first. By the time he got to the other side, he felt a lot better and carried on with his mission. When he reached a rocky area surrounded by bamboo trees, he abruptly pulled up and sat down on a flat stone. He immediately began to circulate his breathing in order to replenish his strength.

  A cold, sneering voice bolstered with inner strength came from within the trees. “No, no, no! That's not the right way to improve your strength at all.”

  The spy looked up in fright only to see a sickly looking Taoist emerging from the darkness. “Priest Hou! I didn't realise I'd be meeting someone of your standing.” The spy kneeled quickly.

  “This is too important to leave to just anyone, so of course I came. What do you have to report?”

  The spy stayed kneeling. “Junior has just come from Gongsum where I was asked to complete one last reconnaissance. I'm afraid the news is bad. As we suspected, there's only one master stationed there but it's Xun Da. Worse still, he is expecting an imminent visit from his master, 100 Fists Wong Shi Hong!”

  On hearing this last sentence, Priest Hou’s complexion whitened. “The Majestic Wanderer is there?” he blurted, unable to hide his apprehension. The Taoist had encountered Xun Da once before on his way to Earthly Mountain and he had been soundly beaten by him. But seeing him again didn't overly worry him. I've made great advancements in my own martial arts over the last decade, he thought, and I'm sure I can match Xun Da now—but the 100 Fists Wanderer? If he's there, then we all better just run. Unless Wangchuk Drup is in fact good enough to finally match someone like him. At the very least, we need the big Yarlese’s help.

  Priest Hou was visibly shaken. Noticing the spy's expression of concern, he scorned himself. I'm losing face in front of this junior. So what if the Majestic Wanderer is there? He's still just one man and reputations get overblown. There are ten of us and we're no small matters even individually.

  Turning away from the spy, he waved dismissively, affecting a total lack of fear. “I
f that's all there is to report, then return to camp. We’ll take care of Xun Da and the gambler both.”

  The spy excused himself and left while the priest just stood there. The attempt to bolster his confidence had worked. The more he thought about it, the more excited he got. “Defeating one of the Ten Greats even with help would be no small boon to my reputation,” he muttered through a crooked smile. But if I could arrange it so some of my group took him on first and, after they fell at his hands, I could take him on in a state of exhaustion… then I could deliver the final blow myself, one on one! That way, there'd be no stain on my reputation at all. I'd be regarded as one of the greats. All I have to do is manipulate my companions into moving against him first. He turned to leave when, suddenly, he felt he wasn't alone. A thread of anxiety went up his spine. He slowly looked back over his left shoulder but could see nothing—must be the adrenaline, he thought.

  On his way back to the marshland, where he and the rest of his group had been impolitely sequestered by Wangchuk Drup, the Taoist patiently formulated a plan he was sure would work. The most important thing is keeping that big Yarlese away. If he hears that Xun Da is in Gongsum, then he'll be sure to attend personally. However, if he believes one of the lesser masters is based there, then he'll leave him to us.

  He returned just before dawn and was stopped by one of the guards who Wangchuk Drup had placed on duty there. Clearly the Yarlese didn't trust his little band of conscripts. However, to place such low level guards around them was insulting. The Taoist simply ignored the guard’s demand to halt and stretched out a slow moving finger. The guard was stopped in mid-stride, unable to move or even speak. Priest Hou laughed to himself, imagining the lanky ex-monk paying them a visit and finding his guard immobilised like that.

  Ah! What am I thinking? I need that Yarlese to stay clear of here. I better send a report immediately. He went straight to the guard house and wrote a message.

  “All clear here, it's the small frogs as we predicted.”

  A messenger sped off to the western border where Wangchuk Drup awaited word from his reluctant charges.

  When he returned to the shack where the rest of his party were preparing breakfast, he set the wheels to his plan in motion. He began by telling them of both Xun Da and the Majestic Wanderer’s presence in Gongsum. As he spoke, the wind outside was picking up and a few pebbles were being blown against the door.

  Something else was moving outside, much bigger than a pebble and much quieter too. A heroic looking person dressed entirely in white, graceful, deadly, and very inquisitive. He was there when the post guard encountered the Qui spy and even shot the first two projectiles—the first to alert the spy to the fact that he was being pursued—the second to prompt the fool of a guard to crouch and avoid the spy’s own projectile. He had allowed his friend Wu Chen to suffer the minor injury to his shoulder and then maintained a close watch on the spy as he rushed to his rendezvous—the hero’s internal kung fu exceeding anything the spy could envisage. He was present for Priest Hou’s debriefing and though the sickly looking Taoist almost detected him, he successfully followed him back to this marshy hideaway without giving his presence away.

  He was of course Xun Da, by now a well known hero of Wulin, who ranged the Jianghu and was responsible for countless acts of chivalry and patriotism. Settling himself outside the window, he tuned his keen hearing to the conversation inside. This is why he was here.

  “So it's wrapped up and ready for us,” Priest Hou said as he finished detailing the information the Qui spy gave him. “I say we move tonight. I've sent word to your master that we will handle it.” Glancing impassively at the Yarlese disciples, he pretended not to notice their reaction but of course, they were right to be concerned. They were under strict orders not to do anything without express word from Wangchuk Drup, having been warned against the unpredictability of these mercenaries. The latter were not entirely there of their own volition and they were, therefore, likely take any opportunity to break from the plan for personal gain.

  Priest Hou was prepared for their uncertainty, “Of course, if Wangchuk Drup’s disciples are not ready to take care of this action themselves, we can wait for their master’s word.” It was a silly point. After all, the Yarlese’s disciples had been dispatched on missions without their master for as long as the Taoist has known them. But Priest Hou knew Warlord Sing would pick it up and run like a dog with a bone.

  “Ha, ha, ha!” the short squat man boomed. “Don't bother the children. They've been neglected by their master all these years, how are they to handle a world class expert like the 100 Fists Wanderer or even that pipsqueak Xun Da? Better leave them to us.”

  The three disciples stiffened at the insult. When they followed their master to the central plains ten years ago, the Yarlese disciples were only in their teens. Being apprentice monks only, it wasn't significant that they returned to secular life when their master did. However, they did so purely out of loyalty to him. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a bad decision because their teacher was preparing to dedicate all his time and attention to a new master of his own. It was an atypical situation and although they continued to benefit sporadically from Wangchuk Drup's tutelage, their development was far more intermittent than they would've liked.

  Of all the current party holding up in this marshland hideout, the three Yarlese disciples had advanced the least over the last decade. Warlord Sing, who had been trounced by Xun Da at the First Gorge, had re-dedicated his life to his “Iron Bone Kung Fu” and had succeeded in establishing it as a preeminent style in Wulin. Priest Hou had likewise considerably advanced his pressure point Gong Fu to the point of infamy while Han Liang and the Lin couple, who were the strongest of the current party ten years ago, had perfected their “Jade Arm” and “Circling Swords Styles” respectively.

  However, Wangchuk Drup's “Immaculate Palms” had undergone so many ingenious changes since he came under the tutelage of the Divine Alchemist that its advances were truly beyond any of his disciples. Even if they received the attention their master owed them, they would be incapable of mastering his style to its fullest.

  Thus, in their present company, their egos made for soft targets and it wasn't long before Warlord Sing had riled them into proving they could solve this problem on behalf of their beloved master and in the absence of his help… or consent.

  “We will handle this. No need to trouble Shifu or yourself Brother Sing,” the eldest disciple Linjin said, with pointed distaste for the grinning warlord. The Lin couple expressed their assent in typically minimalist fashion, an assured nod followed by a knowing glance at one another while Han Liang merely laughed to himself as the pantomime unfolded.

  Priest Hou couldn't restrain himself. “Do you foresee a problem, Brother Liang?”

  The shrewd scholar finished his tea and stared calmly at the Taoist. “You pay very little heed to something that you crave so dearly, my good priest.”

  The Taoist bit down. “Exactly what is that?”

  “Reputation, my good priest. Don't misunderstand, I'll attend this outing but I might just hold back and see how you get on with this lowly wanderer before I decide if I am to intervene or not.”

  Knowing the scholar had at once seen through all his plans and anxieties, Priest Hou was livid. But he could do nothing but assent. Han Liang is simply too smart to argue with, he thought. Not if I want to keep my true intentions secret to the rest of them. Who knows what I might spill? He darted a look at Sing Yi just in time to stop the short ugly fellow from turning this debate into a full blown argument. The barrel shaped warlord understood the look, swallowed his pride and sat down. The truth was they all feared this scholar's intelligence.

  By the end, they each agreed to make their move on the two Gongsum masters that night.

  Sitting outside, Xun Da’s mind was awash. He had expected the Qui spy to deliver tactical information on the town’s defences. He never thought the report would be on his and his master’s movements nor
did he anticipate the recipients would be gang of martial experts.

  Earlier on, at the bamboo grove, he had recognised the Taoist from their skirmish at the First Gorge at Earthly Mountain and so, as he listened to the different voices inside the shack, he deduced the ugly warlord and the rich scholar were there too. He had less verbal contact with the warriors who ambushed him and Bai Feng on the far side of the Second Gorge but an educated guess told him the three Yarlese disciples and the married couple were present too. He remembered the remaining two ambushers were Kshatriyan but heard nothing of their heavy accents. Thankfully, as the conversation progressed, he learned Wangchuk Drup wasn't there either. On the other hand, the former monk was definitely the ringleader making this turn of events extremely serious.

  Xun Da had kept abreast of the giant Yarlese’s movements since the latter re-entered Wulin two years earlier. He had hoped that someone of his power and inherent malice might have picked a battle with the wrong master. It was starting to look that way too when, all of a sudden, word reverberated through the Jianghu like thunder that not only had he reappeared but he had actually defeated the Blue Lady.

  When Xun Da heard that news, a cold chill crept up his back. He knew that outside of the Ten Greats, he himself was not far off the elite in Wulin but he remembered how easily Wangchuk Drup had beaten him at the Third Gorge. Given his total disappearance for eight years, it was only prudent to assume he spent the entire time in training while, during the same time, Xun Da had been dispatched north, west, east, and south on one mission after another. His battle experience had grown deep but his kung fu training was surely not as consistent as the Yarlese’s had been. Thus, Xun Da had good reason to estimate he was far behind this foe in martial ability and the latter’s victory over the Blue Lady confirmed that. After all, she is a formidable grandmaster who invented and honed her own style and is comfortably considered among Ten Greats of her age.