by Mark Swaine
“With great respect, you are making a mistake General,” appeals Kamui Li.
“Be gracious that we have taken your people in, when you are ready to cooperate, hail the...” says the General interrupted by Akio creating loud sloshing sounds as he urinates endlessly into the bucket.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... haaaaaa-haaaaa... awwwwww... horrrrrrr,” says Akio in euphoric relieved pleasure as clear urine streams plentiful into the sloshing bucket.
“When you are ready to cooperate, hail the Captain of the Guard,” continues the General in a short tone, “many dragons roam the skies in the spring season, you are vulnerable outside the city walls. Are you certain you do not wish to reveal the nature of this message and surrender your weapons, assuming your maiden wenches are able to wield them?" says the General, patiently and mockingly.
“Time grows short General, are you certain you do not wish to grant us entry into your city? I seek only an audience with the Emperor,” replies Kamui Li, brusquely.
“Not until I am certain you can be trusted. Your presence here raises a great many questions. If you are not willing to answer them, then you must leave,” states the General.
“Awwwwwwwwww,” says Akio as his shoulders shudder in circles.
“We are more than capable of wielding our blades, more so than some pitiful and dusty aged man,” says Akane Junko clenching her Katana.
“You dare insult me wench?” says the General passive-aggressively.
“No, we will not leave, we cannot leave,” says Kamui Li.
“Then you leave me no choice, prepare for battle, or turn and flee from whence you came,” says the General, signalling the soldiers on the bridge into attack positions.
“We will not flee, we cannot flee, nor do we do not wish to fight,” barks Kamui Li.
“What is the matter with you? We desire only peace with you people!” shouts Shun-Shiro.
“What did I miss?!” exclaims Akio running back into formation with a splashing bucket.
“Then state the purpose of your arrival!” bellows the General.
“We are here to protect the Emperor!” says Akane Junko irately.
“Protect him from what?” presses the General.
“Akane, Shiro! Say no more!” warns Kamui Li, angrily.
General Arachie realises that he is going round in circles, and whatever information the stubborn warrior Kamui Li possessed, would not be revealed to him. But the General comes to the conclusion that they mean his Emperor and the good folk of the city no harm, for it appears they will do anything to prevent a battle. But still, he does not trust them enough to allow them entry, even if he did, the Royal Ministers would surely disapprove of his decision. But whatever drove them from their lands is still disconcerting enough for the General to ponder on, and driving away those who possess potential valuable knowledge might be a grave mistake. The General wonders if the best course of action would be to leave them outside the city walls, providing them much needed time to think as their rations diminish. Perhaps time was all they, and he, needed to unravel the mystery of this mysterious threat to the Emperor.
“Captain, report,” commands General Arachie.
“Four hundred,” replies the Captain.
“That is enough for today; we begin again tomorrow at first light," says General Arachie.
“What of us?” asks Shun-Shiro.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” says General Arachie, crossly.
“Nothing will breach the walls of the Huanghua city walls General Arachie, we pledge this with our lives,” states Kamui Li, honourably.
The robust General pauses to leave, and nods graciously.
General Arachie commands his guards back into the city and follows behind them. The General stops suddenly as Akio hails him with great urgency.
“General. Wait,” says Akio earnestly.
“You have something to say, Akio Ishikawa?” asks the General, expectantly.
“I almost forgot: here is your bucket,” says Akio kindly.
“...Keep it,” says the General crossly.
As the General and soldiers disappear behind the city walls, the drawbridge raises to an eventual slam. The silent Samurai appear frustrated as they look upon the walls of the Huanghua city.
“That could have gone better,” says Akio, breaking the silence.
That night in camp, the Samurai surround their elder, Master Yoshio. Master Yoshio’s old and wrinkled face appears stern in the glow of the crackling campfire, and all that surround it appear to be lost in a state of thought.
“You behaved honourably today, wisely,” says Master Yoshio,
“Thank you Master Yoshio,” replies Akio humbly.
“I was talking to Kamui Li,” replies Master Yoshio sternly.
“We are wasting time here Master Yoshio, we do not possess time enough to sit and wait for the General to test us,” replies Kamui Li.
“Tis not the General that is testing us,” replies Master Yoshio.
Master Yoshio sees Akio looking out to the horizon, regretfully pondering on the chaos that is surely occurring there at this very minute. The old Samurai notices Akio opening his mouth to speak before hesitating and looking back.
“He is lost Akio-san,” says Master Yoshio with glazed eyes. “Do not look back, not yet,” says Yoshio with a pained grunt.
“My beloved Mineyo, my only daughter Kayoko, and my two sons Fumio and Haru. They are at peace: pray the same fate for those we left behind,” says Master Yoshio standing to his feet.
“I have known you since you were a boy Akio,” says Master Yoshio with a tired smile. “I have known all of you since you were children; you will show strength, just as you have always done,” says Master Yoshio before walking away.
“You mean we,” says Akane Junko.
Master Yoshio says nothing as he continues walking into the night to guard the perimeter along the yellow river. A set of eyes watches the old distressed Samurai from afar and he rubs the moist corners of his eyes as he is overcome by the aged man's loss. Two weeks later, all the civilians had been granted refuge and only the Samurai remain outside the city walls, and for one year the one thousand Samurai set up camp along the perimeter of the Yellow river. The Samurai remain ever watchful of the horizon for threats that might attempt to breach the Huanghua city walls. The strategically positioned Samurai stand guard as if to defend their own Emperor, not once deviating from their duties as the High Ministers predicted they would. In the hottest weeks of the summer, the wettest rainfalls of the autumn, the coldest blizzards of the winter, until spring arrives once more, the foreign warriors patrol the perimeter in staggered marches and still watches.
Even though it is clearly evident the Samurai are acting in the best interests of the Emperor and his people, not all are so encouraged by their presence. The Ministers had grown impatient and increasingly paranoid of the Japanese force and become persistent in their claims that they must have ulterior motives. One matter in particular gave the Ministers cause for concern; that the Samurai did not sleep, and were somehow surviving on the most meagre of rations. Not once had a wall sentry, or spying Priest laid eyes upon the Samurai cooking a rabbit on a campfire, or sating their thirst in the fresh running water of Yellow river. Not one pair of eyes had witnessed the Samurai in slumber amidst the veil of night, or beside a rock in the lazy rays of comforting heat in the shadow of day. General Arachie ridiculed the reports, and remains patient, certain they would come to their senses.
A grey, hairy chest drips with sweat as it twists from side to side whilst delivering crossed arm punches. Rapid hard slaps, thumps of tough skin and thuds of bone and cartilage upon hard wood drown out the deep controlled breathes of the General. His heavily toned muscles flex and coil under a torso of leathery and weathered skin. He ducks, rolls and weaves around ten wooden Wing Chun dolls rotating on pivots in the South barracks training ground. The General rapidly strikes the wooden torsos and makeshift arms with the palms of his near inde
structible hands. Striking the wooden dummies with precision timing he begins a combination of front punches into the torso of a chest, knocking the splinters and morning dew of the backs of the wooden dummies. The Jade soldiers operating a series of ropes and chains suddenly pull hard sending the rest of the Wing Chun dummies toward the General. The twenty wooden dolls encircle General and close in on him on grinding rails. With various forms of sharp weaponry mounted to their limbs, Jade soldiers in training stand aside the arena in awe of the General's ability to counter attack whilst anticipating oncoming attacks from his blind spots. Suddenly the heavy wooden doors to the courtyard open and a large crowd of Ministers hastily make their way to the training area whilst arrogantly addressing the General. General Arachie sees the Priests in the corner of his eye and ignores their callings. The General, displeased by the rude interruption during the training of his class, allows his fury a little freedom with lightning-fast wood-shredding attacks. A broad shouldered Priest named Jian-Heng makes it clear he has no time to wait, and he wastes no time in making it obvious as he repeatedly shouts out to the indisposed General.
“Arachie!” yells Jian-Heng a fourth time.
“General Arachie,” barks a displeased Captain, correcting the tall Priest.
The General continues to ignore Jian-Heng, for he had told them numerous times that he is never to be disturbed during a training session. Jian-Heng continues to hail the General as he battles against twenty Wing Chun dolls. With every flying steel knee and winged elbow, the General batters five oncoming dummies then ducks to avoid a swipe of edged steel then reverse kicks the dummy. The dummy reels backwards in a rickety glide on its single rail, and straight into the path of Jian-Heng. The speeding wooden doll twists and an outstretched arm knocks Jian-Heng onto the ground in a protesting wail. The other Ministers attempt to aid him back to his feet, and he pushes them away as they fuss over him whilst dusting him off. Jian-Heng screams Arachie's name furiously and the General begins to unleash an intense monologue as he enhances his brutal attack.
“In times of great frustration, you must learn to control your anger,” grunts the General.
Flying kicks, rushing knuckles and ankles and feet of stone crack, crush and break wooden legs, heads, and torsos as timber chippings fly through the air.
“Control is power, losing control of one’s sense is to grant the enemy power over you,” seethes the General.
As the General reduces the dummy's to fire wood, a young soldier with a Cuju ball under his foot observes the squeaking, spinning rail mounts half bent from their tracks. The vertical rods and brackets continue spinning on momentum and the ruined dummies twist rapidly on the spot in an assortment of deformed and ridiculous poses. In his strong native Chinese tongue he concludes his lesson...
“Control your anger?” says the lippy young soldier in a dry tone.
General Arachie stares down the soldier pressing his foot down on the ball below his heel. In no mood for glib remarks he issues the cocky boy's punishment.
“One hundred vertical wall sprints soldier! Begin,” says the General before proceeding with his lesson.
“Focus on your surroundings, be mindful always. Wing Chun have no mind, your enemies will, your surroundings are yours to master, your surroundings are an extension of your mind, use them. There may come a time in battle when you find yourself alone and surrounded by enemies. You must kill them before you become dead, you must use all of your senses. Or become like Jian-Heng, falling like a wounded sparrow,” says General Arachie, gesturing to the silent and fuming Priest whilst concluding his lesson,
General Arachie dismisses his students and walks over to a barrel of fresh water with Jian-Heng close in tow.
“What do you want Jian-Heng?” says the General, wiping his body down with a cold wet rag.
“Minister, Jian-Heng,” corrects Peng-Shi, Jian-Heng's younger apprentice.
“You reckless fool, you almost killed me!” says Jian-Heng, pointing to the small graze on the side of his forehead.
“You are blind and ignorant to your surroundings, your downfall was your own,” says the General, clearing his nose and tipping a jug of water over his own neck “Jian-Heng, many times I have raised the issue of you people disturbing my class. Regardless of your title under our great Emperor, should you ever again disturb me during a training session, it shall not be a Wing Chun doll I practise upon, I care not for the penalty,” warns the General, pushing his authority.
“Threats, General? Consider yourself fortunate you hold the Emperor's good graces, were not for...” rants Jian-Heng.
“What is it that you want Jian-Heng, why are you here?” says General Arachie, cutting of the Priest whilst firmly wiping his hands on the rag and tossing it aside.
“Why do the Samurai dwell yet outside the city walls, why have you not run them from these lands as we have commanded?” says Jian-Heng.
“You command nothing Priest, I take my orders directly from the Emperor, and you are little more than an advisor to his Greatness,” says the General.
“The Samurai?” says Jian-Heng, more to the point.
“They pose no threat, they seek only to protect his greatness,” says General Arachie.
“Protect him from what?” asks Jian-Heng, tirefully.
“From whatever madness drove them from their lands. The Samurai remain yet guarded of their mission. The leader of the Samurai, Kamui Li, desires to address the Emperor directly. The brave and wise warrior possesses knowledge of a threat to our great Emperor, should we choose to drive him away, this knowledge will be lost to us. They will come to their senses eventually, they have little choice should they wish to be granted refuge and an audience with the Emperor,” says General Arachie.
“You cannot seriously be contemplating allowing those savages safe passage into the city,” exclaims Jian-Heng.
“Yes, under certain conditional terms,” replies the General plainly.
“General, you are indeed a soft touch. The Samurai have not revealed the information you seek because you have not handled them in the appropriate manner. Besides, the Samurai are nothing but mindless barbarians, and this so called threat they speak of is nothing more than a deception to gain access to our beloved city as to claim it for themselves,” says Jian-Heng, self righteously.
“A deception? What of the tales of late?” says General Arachie.
“Tales of plagues and a wandering dead? Are you a child, or perhaps you have been drinking,” laughs Jian-Heng condescendingly, “please General, I know you are a simple minded man but you cannot be so foolish as to believe these ridiculous stories,” says the patronising Priest.
“You are a man of faith are you not? Is it not a requirement of the Brotherhood that you believe in these crazy wild stories, even your own,” says General Arachie testing Jian-Heng's patience.
“Mind your words blasphemer. The others may have been taken in by these ridiculous rumours but one must rise much earlier in the morning to pull the wool over my eyes. This is ridiculous, I cannot believe I thought I would be able to reason with you,” says Jian-Heng.
“Nor do I,” replies the General taking a hefty swig of water and briefly offering it to the declining Priest.
“General Arachie I will have no further quarrel with you. You will escort the High Priests across the Yellow River tomorrow,” says Jian-Heng.
“What is this request you speak of? You people are not warriors; they will not speak with you?” says the General,
“Each and every Priest you lay eyes upon is trained to perfection in the arts of Wushu, including myself,” says Jian-Heng.
“Trained yes, ready for battle, I think not. This request is not...” replies the General.
“...tis not a request General, it is an order. Together, we shall command the Samurai to leave. The Brotherhood has spoken, it is decided, we want them gone from these lands, driven far away from the walls of Huanghua city,” says Jian-Heng, pompously.
“I will escort the P
riests across the Yellow River, and I ensure their safe return. But I will not command the Samurai to leave, if you wish them gone so badly you tell them, in that appropriate manner you spoke of,” says General Arachie, off-handedly.
“The Brotherhood will carry out what you have failed to do, best of luck,” sneers Jian-Heng.
“You will not be joining us?” exclaims the General.
“No, other matters require my attention, I am a very busy man General,” claims Jian-Heng, to which the other Priests nod in agreement.
“You truly are a coward Jian-Heng” says the General, “very well, I request that Niu Shou (Always Bull) act in your stead,” says General Arachie.
“Niu Shou? You mean High Minister Chung Denshi, why do you request of his presence?” asks Jian-Heng, curiously, “he is just as likely as you to grant them refuge?” adds Jian-Heng.