by Monkey
“Greetings, little brother,” Hok whispered as he sat down. “I apologize for sneaking up on you like that. I hope I didn't scare you.”
“D-don't worry about it,” Malao stammered. “Did you see that? Grandmaster's head—”
“I know,” Hok said. “It's over now. Sit.”
“Over?” Malao said as he began to pace. “You call that over? We have to do something! We—”
Hok raised a pale hand. “Slow down, Malao. Please. We'll act when the time is right, but now is not the time. Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me what else you saw?”
Malao took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He sat down across from Hok. “I didn't see anything else,” Malao sighed. “I was only in the tree a moment before you came. How long have you been back?”
“Not long enough, unfortunately,” Hok said. “I wish I had returned sooner. Perhaps I could have helped Grandmaster … or Fu.”
Malao's eyes widened. “Fu?”
“Yes,” Hok said. “After I circled back here, I saw Fu arguing with Ying at the main gate. Grandmaster was there, too. Ying sliced Fu's cheek pretty badly with his chain whip. Then he killed Grandmaster.”
“Yingkilled Grandmaster?” Malao asked.
“Yes,” Hok said. “He sent a lead ball through Grandmaster's heart with a qiang”
Malao shivered and lowered his head. “P-please don't tell me any more.”
“I'm sorry, little brother,” Hok replied. He leaned toward Malao and his voice softened. “Let me tell you about Fu. He got away. I chased after him to see if I could help in some manner, but I never managed to catch up.”
Malao sniffled and looked up. “Huh? You couldn't catch Fu?”
Hok shook his head and grinned. “No. I never imagined Fu could run so fast. I think he may have the dragon scrolls.”
“That must be why Ying is so upset,” Malao said.
Hok nodded slowly. “I think you're right.”
“What happened to Fu?”
“I don't know. When it became clear that I could not catch him, I decided to head back here to learn more about what Ying was up to. That's when I saw you on the tree limb.” Hok shook a finger playfully at Malao. “You really should have hidden yourself better, you know.”
Malao rolled his eyes. “Give me a break. I'm wearing an orange robe and orange pants.” He grinned.
Hok smiled back.
Malao looked at the moonlight reflecting off Hok's pale, bald head and said, “Do you know anything about that soldier Tonglong? The one with all the hair?”
“I think he may be Ying's number one soldier,” Hok said. “And I have a feeling he made some kind of big mistake that allowed Fu to obtain the scrolls. Ying seemed to put most of the blame on him.”
“Yeah, I heard Ying shouting,” Malao said. He scratched his head. “So what are we going to do now?”
Hok stared at Malao, unblinking. “We're going to stay here and watch Ying.”
“Stay here and watch Ying?” Malao repeated. “Grandmaster told us to run and then separate. You even agreed that that made the most sense.”
“I've changed my mind,” Hok replied. “If you disagree, then by all means go. It's probably best if I stay here alone, anyway. You'll just end up talking too much and get us caught.”
“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Hok said, shaking his head. “Forget it. Is there anything you want to tell me, Malao? I notice your stick poking out of your robe.”
Malao looked down and shoved the decorated stick back into the folds of his robe. “Oh, yeah. I ran into a soldier who was carrying it. I took it from him.”
“You took it from him?”
“Yep. I snatched it away, then I knocked him unconscious.”
“So he's still alive?”
“Of course he's still alive,” Malao said. “I'm no killer.”
Hok's thin eyebrows raised up. “We need to hurry, then.”
“Hurry with what?” Malao asked. “I thought we were just going to sit around and watch.”
“We are, but first we need to retrieve Grandmaster's body. And we must do it while it's still dark.”
Malao twitched. “What? Why?”
“We need to bury Grandmaster and pay our respects.”
“P-pay our respects?”
“Yes, otherwise his spirit will never be at rest,” Hok said. “Is this a problem for you? Why are you trembling?”
“N-no problem here,” Malao replied.
“Good,” Hok said as he stood. “Grandmaster's body lies near the main gate. If you can stage some type of diversion, I think I can sneak in and then back out without being noticed.”
“That's all you want me to do? Get some soldiers’ attention?” Malao took a deep breath and wiped his brow. “That's easy. Do you think those soldiers are superstitious? Because I was thinking, if they're afraid of ghosts—”
Hok frowned. “Don't get carried away, Malao. All we need is a simple distraction.”
Malao pouted.
Hok shook his head. “Here's what we'll do. We'll wait until things settle down, then you and I will sneak over to the compound wall that backs up to the bathhouse. Do you remember that tall tree inside the compound where the wall by the bathhouse and the front wall meet?”
“You mean the large elm in the corner?” Malao asked.
“Yes,” Hok replied. “You scale the outer wall by the bathhouse and hide in that tree with a handful of rocks. I'm going to sneak around the front wall and hide in the shadow of the gate. When I'm ready, I'll wave my arm, then you toss the rocks onto the bathhouse roof one at a time. Hopefully, that will distract the soldiers long enough for me to grab Grandmaster and slip back out again. If we're lucky, the soldiers won't notice the body is missing until morning.”
“I'm not sure rocks will be enough of a distraction,” Malao said. A smile began to form on his lips. “What if—”
“Don't push it, Malao. Just toss some rocks and come straight back here. I'm going to do a little eavesdropping now. You sit tight until I return. Got it?”
Malao nodded and casually scratched his upper lip in an effort to hide his uncontrollable grin. He must have been successful because Hok hopped out of the hollow and sailed down from the tree.
Ying stood alone in the moonlight in front of the Cangzhen sleeping quarters. The deep grooves in his face stretched as he yawned. He needed to rest. So far, he had only partially succeeded with his mission. Cangzhen had been destroyed, and proof of Grandmaster's death was on its way to the Emperor. But he didn't have the scrolls, and his five little brothers were still on the loose.
Ying spat on the ground. His brothers’ escape was particularly upsetting. He had spent his entire life watching those five get special treatment because of a past none of them knew about. Ying had always guessed the boys held a special place in Grandmaster's heart. And after seeing how far Grandmaster had gone to protect them, he was now sure of it. Since the boys were so important to Grandmaster, Ying decided that they must pay the ultimate price in order to fully repay the blood debt Grandmaster owed him.
Since leaving Cangzhen, Ying had learned many things about his past. But the worst was that his father had been killed by Grandmaster, who had then plucked Ying away from his family. Ying had always had vague memories of this, but he'd been just a toddler at the time. He'd never been able to make out the face of the culprit. However, since he'd learned the truth, those memories had begun resurfacing in the form of nightmares. Nightmares about his father— a powerful dragon-style master—falling to Grandmaster's own dragon-style fists.
Ying was now certain he had dragon blood in his veins. And yet Grandmaster had raised him as an eagle. There could never be worse punishment for Ying or any other warrior monk than being raised as something other than what you truly were. Now that Ying was in a position to judge, he had taken it upon himself to issue the punishments. He had already executed Grandmaster's sentence. Soon it would be time to punish t
he five young monks.
In the meantime, however, he needed some sleep. Ying entered the sleeping quarters and opened the trapdoor that led down into the Cangzhen escape tunnel. He'd used the tunnel as a back door to launch the attack, but when he'd lived at Cangzhen it had been a peaceful refuge for him. He hoped it could be a sanctuary for him now. He called out to his number two man.
“Commander Woo! Report to the tunnel entrance in the sleeping quarters. Immediately!”
A moment later, the squat, powerful Commander burst into the room carrying a torch. “Sir? Is everything all right?”
“Yes, yes,” Ying replied. “I'm just going down into the escape tunnel for a while. I do not want to be disturbed for any reason. I will reactivate the monks’ traps down there, so tell the men to stay out.”
“I understand, sir,” Commander Woo said. “I will spread the word.”
“Good. When I come back up, I expect to see additional piles of armor stripped from our fallen soldiers. Order the men to search the compound for bodies one more time, too. I want to review the fallen monks again to double-check that all five boys did indeed escape. It that clear?”
Commander Woo pushed his armor-clad shoulders back and nodded. “Yes, sir!”
Ying grunted and dropped into the pitch-black escape tunnel to try to get some sleep.
“Wake up,” a voice whispered in Malao's ear.
Malao opened his eyes and saw Hok's pale face. It glowed in the moonlight spilling in through the hollow tree's entrance.
“Ying has gone down into the escape tunnel and his number one soldier, Tonglong, has left on a mission,” Hok said. “It's time to get Grandmaster.”
Without another word, Hok drifted out of the hollow. Malao groaned and hurried after him.
As he raced along the ground, Malao struggled to keep up with Hok, who floated effortlessly through the thick underbrush. No matter how many times he saw Hok travel like this, Malao couldn't seem to get used to it. It was just plain unnatural for a human to be able to travel so swiftly and silently through so many obstacles. If anyone could sneak inside Cangzhen and grab Grandmaster's body, it was Hok.
Unfortunately, Hok wasn't very good at planning distractions. Tossing a few rocks might attract the soldiers’ attention, but not for very long. Malao had a plan of his own that was much better—not to mention a lot more fun!
Hok stopped behind a large bush at the edge of the tree line and scanned the area with a quick twist of his long, thin neck. Without a sound, he motioned for Malao to follow and glided across the grassy expanse toward the compound's perimeter.
Malao remained next to the bush in the moonlight shadows.
Hok reached the wall and looked back at Malao with a confused look on his face. Malao smiled and waved.
Hok signaled for Malao to join him. Malao signaled Hok to continue on.
Hok shook one finger at Malao, silently scolding him. Malao waved back dramatically, like he was saying goodbye to an old friend.
Hok shook his head, then flattened his supple body against the rough stone of the compound wall. He slowly made his way toward the front corner. As soon as Hok slipped around to the front, Malao sprang into action.
Malao ripped handfuls of long, dry grass from the edge of the tree line and stuffed them into various openings in his robe and pants. He left most of the grass hanging out at odd angles. Next, he tore a thick vine from a nearby tree and used it to tie a large bundle of grass to his head. After folding the bundle down over his face, Malao collected a handful of rocks and raced across the grassy expanse.
Without slowing, Malao leaped at the stone perimeter wall, his legs working like he was climbing a ladder. The wall was as high as two men, but after three long strides Malao's free hand reached the edge of the wide top. He pulled himself onto it and sprang into the large elm tree he and Hok had discussed. He was barely in position when Hok gave the signal to begin the distraction.
Malao lobbed a rock onto the steep tile roof of the bathhouse and it rolled down noisily. Five soldiers were positioned between the bathhouse and the main gate, but none of them reacted. The bathhouse was smoldering, and apparently a strange noise on the rooftop wasn't worth investigating. Malao tossed another rock. Even though it rolled off the rooftop and nearly hit the closest soldier in the head, none of the soldiers paid any attention to it.
Malao was glad he'd come prepared.
With a mighty leap, he vaulted out of the tree and landed on the roof tiles, which, he was surprised to discover, were scorching hot! Malao began to howl and dance about in the shadows of the flickering flames. The long grass poking out of his robe swayed like ripples of energy radiating out from a ghostly spirit.
This time, the soldiers all looked up, then dropped to their knees and dug their foreheads into the dirt.
“I told you we should have buried the dead!” one of the soldiers cried out.
“Y-you were right!” said another. “The spirits have come for us!”
Malao smiled. This was working even better than he'd hoped! He peeked through the bundle of grass covering his face and saw Hok hoist Grandmaster over his shoulder and head out through the main gate.
Malao continued to hop from foot to foot on the hot rooftop, waiting a few moments like Hok had said. He noticed the soldiers’ foreheads were still pressed to the ground. He couldn't resist having a little more fun before he ran off. Malao cleared his throat and spoke in his ghastliest voice.
“Repent, soldiers! You must respect the dead! Bury monk and soldier alike before you next sleep. Mention what you've seen here to no one, or I will find you. I will hunt you down and devour your souls! I will seek out your wives and your children, your mothers and your fathers, your brothers and your sisters, your—”
Something warm brushed up against the back of Malao's thighs. He spun around and saw that a clump of grass hanging out the back of his robe had caught fire.
Malao yelped and scrambled back across the roof. When he reached the very edge, he jumped, his arms flailing. He felt a leaf brush against one hand and he clamped down tight, grabbing hold of a thick branch. His momentum in full swing, he launched himself feetfirst toward the perimeter wall and landed smoothly in the center of the wide top. He jumped down to the ground outside the compound and began to roll before finally stopping to grind his backside into the earth.
His thighs and surrounding region still warm, Malao sprang to his feet and raced toward the tree with the hollow. The fire was out, but a thin trail of smoke followed him like a wriggling tail.
Malao scurried along the massive arms of the elm tree that held the hollow. Pausing outside the entrance, he felt a gentle breeze blow across his backside. He twisted around and around in the moonlight, trying to get a good look at his singed robe.
“Whoa,” Malao mumbled. “I'm getting dizzy.” He giggled.
“Get in here!” Hok whispered from inside the hollow. “Stop playing around.”
Malao stopped spinning and wobbled inside. “Sorry,” he said as he plopped down across from Hok. “So what did you think?”
Hok sat perfectly straight with his legs crossed. He stared at Malao, unblinking. “What did I think of what?”
“My performance back at the compound,” Malao said. “Wasn't I great?”
“I don't want to talk about it. You could have gotten us both caught.”
“Huh?” Malao said. “We didn't even come close to getting caught! Besides, I tried your idea first, and it didn't work. I needed to do something else. If it wasn't for me—”
Hok raised his hand. “The rocks would have worked just fine, Malao. You should have tried throwing a few more before you pulled your little stunt.”
Malao raised one hand, mimicking Hok. “Well, I happen to think you're upset because I didn't do exactly what you told me to do. You know how much you like being the boss.”
Hok shot Malao a stern look. “That's enough, Malao.”
Malao giggled.
“Why don't you go sit
outside?” Hok said. “I need a few moments alone to think.”
Malao shrugged his shoulders and stood. “Suit yourself. I could use some fresh air, anyway. It's getting a little stuffy in here.” He giggled again and turned to leave.
“Don't go too far. I'd hate for you to get lost,” Hok teased. “Besides, I still need your help.”
Malao turned back. “Help with what?”
“With burying Grandmaster.”
Malao twitched. “What? Didn't you already take care of that?”
Hok shook his head. “No. When would I have had time to do it? He's only hidden. I need your help getting him up the tree—”
Malao's eyes widened. “Tree? What tree?”
“This tree,” Hok said. He tapped the floor of the hollow with his bare foot.
“Y-you want to stick Grandmaster inside this tree? W-why would you do that?”
“Because we don't have the tools or the time to bury Grandmaster in the earth. Inside here, it's just like a tomb. You can think of it as a living pagoda, if you like. Just like the Forgotten Pagoda within the Cangzhen walls. Only in this one, Grandmaster will be part of the cycle of life. As his body returns to its basic elements, he will help feed the tree. He would appreciate that.”
“Th-that's kind of … d-disgusting,” Malao said. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself.
“No, that's life,” Hok said. “Are you okay, Malao? You're trembling again.”
“I'm f-fine,” Malao replied. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. “I just need some f-fresh air—”
Hok stood and walked over to Malao. “Why don't you tell me what's bothering you? Are you afraid of Grandmaster's remains?”
“M-maybe,” Malao replied. “D-dead bodies make me n-nervous. And you know how I get when I'm n-nervous.”
“There's nothing to be nervous about,” Hok said gently. “Death is part of life. It's natural. Just put your emotions aside. You'll be all right.”
“P-put my emotions aside?” Malao said. “H-how do I do that?”