Jeff Stone_Five Ancestors 02

by Monkey

  Malao knew that voice. It belonged to his brother Seh!

  Outside the Cangzhen perimeter wall, Commander Woo squinted in the late-morning sun and ran his fingers through a section of charred earth. He raised one hand to his nose, and his head recoiled from the smell. “Are you certain this mark was left by a ghost?” he asked the soldier beside him.

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier replied nervously. “I'm positive. I believe it is the same restless spirit we've felt watching us. It may also be the same one responsible for stealing the Grandmaster's body. Last night, four other soldiers and I saw the spirit soar from the burning rooftop right through the middle of the tree behind us. It touched down on top of the wall and paused before floating down somewhere beyond, which I believe is right where we're standing now. Flames followed it the whole way down. I think that's what burned the ground here. It must be a very powerful spirit to have fire flowing from it like that. I'm concerned, sir.”

  “Concerned about what?” Commander Woo asked.

  The soldier lowered his head and shuffled his feet. “The spirit promised to hunt me and the others down and devour our souls if we mentioned what we saw to anyone. It said it would go after our families, too—”

  “What's this nonsense about a spirit?” Ying suddenly appeared from around the front corner of the perimeter wall.

  Commander Woo jumped. “Sir!”

  “Don't you remember our little discussion earlier this morning, Commander?” Ying asked. “I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to hear any more talk of spirits. Now I find you out here, still discussing spirits. Why are you indulging the men with this nonsense? Ghosts do not exist.”

  Commander Woo cleared his throat and pointed to the ground. “But we have proof, sir.”

  “Step aside,” Ying said. He stuck his face near the burn mark. The grooves in his face deepened as he grimaced. “I know this smell. One of the young monks has made it a habit to skip as many bathing sessions as possible. His feet are particularly pungent.” Ying looked at the soldier. “Tell me what you saw last night. Or at least what you thought you saw.”

  The soldier cleared his throat. “Pardon me for saying this, sir, but I saw a spirit. I am certain of it. What I saw could not have possibly been a human, let alone a boy.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ying asked.

  “The spirit leaped all the way from the bathhouse roof, through the middle of that large tree, to the wall behind us. It landed perfectly in the center of the wall and paused for only the briefest of moments before floating down to the ground beyond. No human could do that.”

  “Do you think a monkey could do it?” Ying asked.

  “Well, I don't know …,” the soldier said, rubbing his chin. “I suppose. But monkeys can't talk, sir. The spirit we saw gave us a warning.”

  “Listen closely, soldier,” Ying said. “You listen, too, Commander Woo. Share this information with the other men. I have reviewed the bodies of the fallen monks a second time, and I am certain five boys escaped our attack. One of the boys is called Malao, which means ‘monkey’ in Cantonese. I believe he is the one who took the decorated stick from that useless soldier on the night of the attack. He is probably still around. Malao could make the leap you claim is impossible for a human. I've seen him do more impressive things in the past.”

  “But, sir,” Commander Woo said. “Surely any human that could manage a leap like that is in some way connected to the spirit world.”

  Ying snickered. “No, Commander. You are mistaken. At times these boys seem superhuman, but believe me, they are not. They are just very, very skilled and have extraordinary natural abilities. Fortunately, not all of them have learned to control their instinctive behaviors. This makes them vulnerable. We shall catch them, and you will see for yourself. But that is still several days off.”

  “Several days, sir?” Commander Woo asked.

  “Maybe more, maybe less,” Ying replied. “Who knows with this pathetic group of soldiers. Tonglong is on his way to the Emperor, and Captain Yue and his men are out searching for the boy called Fu, who stole the dragon scrolls from us. I don't expect either of them to return for a couple days, and we will not make any major moves until they both return. Do I make myself clear, Commander?”

  Commander Woo swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Fight! Fight! Fight!” the bandits chanted. Secured in the net, Malao struggled to catch a glimpse of his brother Seh among the bandits. It took Malao a moment to recognize his tallest brother, who stood at the front of the group wearing a brilliant blue silk robe. Seh's long, narrow eyes were barely visible beneath a fine silk hat that covered his bald head. He looked much older in that outfit.

  The bandit Hung pointed one of his enormous war hammers at Seh. “Why don't you fight him, newcomer?”

  “I have no complaints against the boy,” Seh replied. “In fact, if it were up to me, I would let him go. I thought he performed valiantly. But out of respect for your grudge, I suggest you fight him. We form a ring, and the two of you battle until only one is left standing. The one standing determines the fate of the fallen one. What do you say, Bear ? Or are you afraid of the little monkey?”

  “Watch your mouth,” Hung warned, “or your liver may end up in my soup, too. I don't care that the men have already welcomed you into our group. You've only been with us a few hours. You've yet to prove yourself in my eyes. I will gladly—”

  “HUNG!” said a deep voice from the back of the group. Malao watched as the bandits parted and a second giant of a man came forward. While Hung was one of the largest humans Malao had ever seen, this man was the largest. And Malao had seen him before. The giant had occasionally been a guest of Grandmaster's at Cangzhen!

  The man was impossible to forget. He wore a red silk robe as big as a tent, and his head and face were smooth like a monk's. In fact, every speck of the man's glistening skin was strangely devoid of hair. He didn't even have eyebrows. Like Hung, the bandit leader was extraordinarily tall and big-boned. Unlike Hung, this man was pure muscle. The sleeves of his robe bulged and rippled as he folded his gargantuan arms and addressed Hung.

  “What are you up to now?”

  “I'm just about to tenderize my lunch,” Hung replied, waving a hammer. “Would you like to join me, Mong?”

  Mong? Malao thought. That's another Cantonese name! It means “python.” That man kind of looks like a python, just like Hung kind of looks like a bear. What's going on here?

  “You're going to eat that little boy?” Mong asked, chuckling. “He wouldn't even qualify as a snack for you, big man. Let him go, and let me get back to business.”

  Hung growled. “I don't think so, boss.” He held up his bleeding hand. “This happened because of him.”

  Mong laughed. “Is that why everyone was chanting, ‘Fight, fight, fight’? Because you got a little scratch on your overgrown paw?”

  Hung snarled, and one of the bandits spoke up. “The newcomer suggested a fight to settle the score, boss. Let's let them fight! I want to wager. I'll take the monkey boy, along with all the money from anyone who wants to bet on Hung!”

  Malao watched as several bandits rushed toward the man who'd spoken. There was a flurry of fast-talking. Gold coins exchanged hands. Mong grinned and walked over to Seh. “Well, I guess we've got ourselves some afternoon entertainment. Would you care to wager, newcomer? Since you're the one who suggested the fight, I'm presuming you'll take the boy.”

  “I don't have any money,” Seh replied. “But if I did, I would bet it all on the boy.”

  Mong smiled and slapped Seh on the back. The bandit leader reached into the folds of his robe and removed a sizable pouch. He held it high over his head and announced, “I bet this entire bag of gold on the boy! Somebody give him a weapon and let the games begin!”

  The bandits cheered and Hung grunted. Malao watched Hung take several steps back as the net was lifted and the bandits formed a circle around him and Hung. Hung twisted and stretched with his huge hammer
s in hand, preparing for battle. Malao stood weaponless.

  “Didn't you men hear me?” Mong said to the group. “Somebody give the boy a weapon!”

  No one responded.

  Seh looked firmly at a bandit holding a long, tasseled spear. Even from a distance, Malao could tell the spear was well made. The tassel was perfectly positioned at the bottom of the metal spearhead where the spearhead connected to the wooden shaft. The main purpose of the tassel, made of long brown horsehair, was to distract an opponent from the spearhead's razor-sharp tip. Its secondary purpose was to absorb any blood that might run down the shaft, making the weapon slippery for the user. Apparently this particular tassel was effective. It glistened red with fresh blood.

  Seh approached the bandit. “Let the boy borrow your monkey skewer.”

  “I don't think so,” the bandit replied. He gripped the weapon with both hands and raised it over his head, out of Seh's reach. “I wagered on Hung and—”

  Seh's long arms suddenly lashed out in a flash of blue silk. Malao saw him extend the first two fingers on each hand and strike both of the bandit's arms high on the inner biceps, near the man's armpits. The bandit's arms instantly slumped to his sides, limp. The spear dropped to the ground.

  Malao glanced at Mong. Mong was grinning.

  “Thanks,” Seh said to the bandit. He relaxed his snake-head fists, picked up the spear, and hurled it at Malao.

  Malao dropped to the ground and rolled sideways, thrusting his right arm straight up into the air. When he felt the tassel brush against his hand, he clenched his fist, catching the spear halfway down the shaft. He completed his roll and sprang to his feet.

  Malao switched the spear to his left hand and brought his right hand up to his nose. He sniffed the blood that had been painted across it by the flying tassel. His upper lip curled back as he turned to face Hung.

  Hung roared and raced toward Malao, his hammers raised high. Malao knew that the best defense against a war hammer was to not be there when it struck, so when the hammers came down, he leaped to one side.

  There was an explosion of dirt as the hammers plowed matching craters into the earth. When the dust cleared, Malao was far from the damage. He stood in the exact center of the bandit ring, waiting.

  Hung growled and lifted his hammers high once more. This time, he walked slowly toward Malao.

  Malao straightened his arms and held the spear out before him with both hands, parallel to the ground. But instead of placing his hands shoulder-width apart like most spear users, he placed his hands side by side at the spear's center balance point. He crouched low and bent his elbows, bringing his arms in to his sides. He relaxed his wrists and his hands sagged. The spear hung loosely in his curled fingers. Malao looked exactly like a monkey that had paused while eating an extraordinarily long piece of fruit.

  Laughter erupted from the ring of bandits.

  “Look at him!” one of the men shouted. “That's hilarious!”

  Even Hung grinned. He stopped two steps from Malao's shivering body and lowered one hammer to adjust the pouches hanging from his sash. He raised the hammer again.

  “P-please, I don't want to hurt you,” Malao said. Nervous energy raced through his system. His teeth rattled.

  The bandits around Malao burst into laughter again. Hung's grin disappeared and he took an enormous breath. As Hung exhaled, he brought the hammers down a second time.

  Malao let out a terrifying screech and spun powerfully to his right, narrowly avoiding one of the heavy hammerheads. As he turned, he tucked one end of the spear under his right arm, locking it firmly in place with his elbow. Still in a low crouch with one full revolution nearly complete, Malao lunged toward his opponent.

  The swinging spear shaft connected with Hung's lead ankle. Hung howled in pain and tumbled to the ground face-first. Malao released the spear and sprang onto the enormous man. One of Malao's thighs landed on each side of Hung's head.

  Hung roared and stood awkwardly as Malao locked his legs around Hung's neck from behind. Malao began to pound Hung's temples with fierce, open-palm strikes.

  With another tremendous roar, Hung dropped the hammers and reached back, grabbing Malao's robe with both hands. Hung struggled to rip Malao from around his neck, but Malao's powerful legs held firm. Hung began to swing his gigantic fists, and Malao knew he had to think of something fast. He took a deep breath, straightened both his index fingers, and jammed them as hard as he could into Hung's ears.

  Hung screamed and the ring of bandits widened as every man winced and took several steps back. Hung grabbed hold of Malao's wrists and yanked so hard that Malao had to let go with his legs or risk having his arms ripped out of their sockets. Caught off guard by Malao's sudden release, Hung stumbled forward and let go of Malao in order to catch himself before his face hit the dirt a second time.

  Malao flew forward and tucked into a tight series of rolls. When he finally stopped, he spun around and saw Hung with his hammers in hand, trying to stand again on his one good leg.

  Malao launched himself at that leg.

  Hung hopped backward using one hammer as a cane. He raised the other hammer high and bellowed like a bloodthirsty beast. Malao landed short of Hung's good leg and threw himself forward onto one shoulder as Hung swung the raised hammer. When Malao felt the earth against his shoulder blade, he kicked straight up into the air with both legs.

  Hung's mighty blow stopped in midair as both of Malao's feet connected with Hung's groin. Hung's eyes crossed and he teetered for a moment before crumpling to the ground, immobilized. Malao barely had time to roll out of the way.

  Malao stood and backed away from Hung. Covered head to toe with dust and sweat, Malao looked over at Seh. Seh winked.

  Mong laughed and stepped forward into the ring with Malao.

  “Well done, little one!” Mong said. “To date, I'm the only one who's been able to put Hung in his place. It seems I must thank you for earning me a handsome sum from my friendly wagering with the men. You were a long shot, you know.”

  Malao shrugged. Mong reached out as if to lay a hand on Malao's shoulder and Malao took several steps back.

  Mong laughed. “There's no need to be nervous. At least not until Hung can see straight again.” Mong paused and rubbed his shiny, hairless head. “Speaking of Hung, I believe you have earned the right to do what you will with the big oaf. Are you in the mood for liver soup?”

  Several of the bandits gasped. One of them cried out, “You're not really going to let the boy kill Hung, are you, boss?”

  “In all honesty,” Mong replied, “I hope the boy doesn't kill Hung, but it is his right. A deal is a deal. We may be bandits, but we're honorable bandits. We keep our word.” Mong looked at Malao. “So, what's it going to be, boy?”

  Hung lifted his face from the dirt and glared at Malao, his eyes still crossed.

  Malao's face hardened. He walked over to Hung and spoke in a shaky voice. “Roll over.”

  Hung shook his head.

  Mong sighed and walked over to Malao's side. He swung one enormous leg back and kicked Hung hard in the ribs with his heavy boot. “The one who defeated you fair and square said roll over. Do it. Now.”

  Hung groaned and rolled over. Malao grabbed one of the pouches hanging from Hung's sash. He opened it, peeked inside, and threw it to the ground. Then he grabbed another, and another, throwing each to the ground after opening it. Malao peeked inside the next pouch and grinned. He tied the pouch to his own sash and turned to Mong.

  “I will leave Hung his life and take this prize instead,” Malao said in his best grown-up voice.

  Mong smiled. “Thank you, little one.”

  Malao lowered his head and shrugged.

  Mong knelt down to Malao's height. “I suggest you leave the area immediately, my little friend. I don't think I'll be able to stop Hung once his eyes straighten out.”

  Malao looked at Mong and nodded. Mong nodded back.

  Without a word, Malao leaped onto the neare
st branch and headed for the treetops. He looked back to wave goodbye to Seh, but all he saw was a flash of blue silk.

  The sun was still high in the sky when Malao stopped next to the stream and climbed down from the tree-tops. He squatted and cupped some cool water in his aching hands.

  As he drank, Malao thought about Seh and the bandits. He hoped Seh knew what he was getting himself into. That was a rough bunch. Mong didn't seem too bad, though.

  Malao scratched his head. How many times have I seen Mong at Cangzhen? he wondered. Four? Five?

  Malao remembered that Mong had always come alone, but that didn't make his visits any more justified. After all, he was a bandit. A very successful bandit.

  Malao couldn't believe how much gold the bandits had. He couldn't imagine where they got it, let alone what they might do with it. Even though monks weren't supposed to have an interest in material things, Malao had never been able to keep his eyes off anything made of the precious metal. It hypnotized him. Several of the pouches Hung carried had been filled with gold, and Malao had had a hard time throwing them aside. He didn't know why, but he felt he should take only one pouch from Hung, and it should be something useful.

  Malao untied the pouch from his sash and sat down on the stream bank. He dumped out the contents. There was a loud CLINK! and a brief spark as a firestone and a metal strike bar collided on the firm earth. Gold was nice to look at, but these items would be a lot more comforting on chilly evenings. More important, he could use them to start a fire for cooking. That is, if he ever managed to find something to cook.

  Malao rubbed his stomach. He was hungry.

  What can I eat? he wondered. There wasn't going to be any fruit for many more months, and plants were just beginning to poke up through the soil. Monkeys ate things like tree buds this time of year, but that wouldn't work for him.