Emperor

by William F. Wu

  “Will you help me?”

  The hostler hesitated. He seemed embarrassed by the story he had just told. “What do you want?”

  “Saddle my horse and tell me which way they went.”

  The hostler nodded and slowly got to his feet. “I’ll help you. They took your friend through the gate.” He walked toward the horses.

  “What?” Steve followed him. “Don’t the guards close the gate at night?”

  “Yes. They bribed the sentries to open it for them. I saw them in the light of the torches.” The hostler went inside the stable.

  Steve waited for him outside and looked toward the gate in the Great Wall. Torches burned over the gate, but no guards were posted down on the road now. He could see firelight flickering in the windows of the watchtower over the gate; obviously, that was where the night watch spent their hours on duty.

  A moment later, the hostler led his horse out with a halter and tied it loosely to a pole.

  “Can the sentries normally be bribed that way?”

  “Yes, the Chinese guards can be. But not the Mongols, if you see any.” The hostler went back inside the stable and came out with Steve’s saddle.

  “How much does it take?”

  The hostler threw on the saddle and adjusted its position. “What you gave me would do it, but each man who comes down from the watchtower must have the same.” He drew the girth up under the horse and cinched it.

  “How many are there?”

  “Only two men are on watch. Sometimes only one wants to come down. Maybe the other is asleep, or just doesn’t want to bother.” The old man slipped off the halter and put on the bridle. When he had fastened it, he handed the reins to Steve.

  “I expect to be back tonight with my friend,” said Steve. “We’ll want you to take care of our horses again.” He put his foot in the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.

  The old man nodded.

  Steve looked up into the sky. The moon was high and threw enough light to see the ground. Still, he had no idea what kind of terrain he was about to cross.

  He nudged his mount forward and reached up to unhook the lantern that hung over the stable. “I’ll bring this back if I can.” Then, holding the lantern in one hand, he rode toward the gate in the Great Wall.

  16

  Marcia rode through the darkness more frightened than she had ever been. Her wrists had been lashed together, then tied to the front of her saddle. One of her kidnappers held the reins of her horse.

  Her captors did not have a lantern. They kept to the road as it wound across open areas of steppe, away from the forest. Moonlight lit the way north.

  During the first terrifying moments when her kidnappers had come into her room, she had been gagged almost immediately. As she tried to resist them, she had been able to switch on her lapel pin before her hands had been tied. Then her captors had carried her out of the room and down some back stairs in near silence.

  The old hostler had been waiting with her horse. In the light of the small lantern at the stable, she had finally counted five kidnappers, one of whom had taken the reins of her mount and tied them to his own saddle. They had paused to dicker with the sentries at the gate in the Great Wall, but the sentries had ignored the gag tied over her mouth.

  These sentries were not the same men Steve had spoken to earlier. Obviously, the watch had changed since then. These sentries were more interested in the bribe they received for opening the gate after dark than in interfering with other people’s business.

  No one spoke. Marcia rode at a walk through the moonlight, listening to the clopping of the horses’ hooves. She supposed the lead rider had to go slowly because of the near-darkness. Certainly she would not complain; wherever they were taking her, she hoped the trip took a very long time.

  The road curved as it skirted the edges of the forest, rising and dipping steeply at times. Ahead and to her left, Marcia could see lights clumped together in the distance; she decided they were torches or camp fires at the Mongol camp. She could not tell how far the camp was, but her captors clearly had no intention of going any closer.

  Marcia had no idea if she could realistically expect any help. Hunter might still be too far to receive the sound of hoofbeats through her lapel pin. Even if he were receiving them right now, he could be too far back down the road to catch up before something horrible happened to her.

  Steve, for all she knew, could still be enjoying his dinner with the Mongols. He certainly had to keep his lapel pin turned off while he remained in their company. Besides, when he did discover that she was missing, he would be alone without a robot to help rescue her.

  The riders around her pulled up for a moment on the crest of small hill; the man holding Marcia’s reins drew her mount to a stop with them. In the pale moonlight, she saw that the road forked, one branch angling to the left toward the Mongol camp. The other branch continued north.

  “What are we going to do?” One man, merely a shadow to Marcia, turned in his saddle to look at the others. “Which way shall we go?”

  “I say we are far enough,” said another. “We must do what we are going to do.”

  Marcia felt herself go cold deep inside.

  “I do not like it,” said a third man in a high, whiny voice. “She will be found here, and the sentries at the wall will remember us.”

  “She deals with evil spirits,” someone else reminded him. “We must kill her and return to the inn before evil spirits come to save her and kill us all.”

  “We have to kill her friend as well,” said the first man. “We must finish with her in time to return for him and bring him back out here.”

  “At least we must take her away from the road,” said the man with the whiny voice, “into the trees where her body will not be found until we are far away, if ever.”

  “Who will do it?” The first man asked. “One of you soldiers? You have the swords.”

  “I am a soldier, not a murderer,” someone said stiffly. “Anyone of us can do the job.”

  “We are all in this together now,” said another, “no matter who actually does it.”

  No one spoke for a long moment. Marcia could hardly believe she was listening to them discuss killing her. She could not believe she was going to die in this year, centuries before she had been born.

  “Either all of us must kill her or none of us,” said the first man.

  Marcia understood their dilemma. They were not murderers by nature. However, they were highly superstitious and were driven by their fear of her.

  “We cannot let her live now,” said one of the others. “She will call evil spirits down on us.”

  “I have an idea,” said the man with the whiny voice. “We can leave her out in the woods, tied, without her outer robes. The heat of the day and the cold of the night will do the work, or maybe wild animals.”

  “This is good,” said the first man. “We shall be equally responsible.”

  Marcia could see the heads of all her captors nodding in the moonlight. None had the stomach for killing her outright. They wanted to take the easy way out.

  “Yes, I agree,” said another man. “Nature can do the job for us. And we can return for her friend.”

  “Fine,” said the first man. “Now we must move away from the road and find a place to leave her.”

  Marcia tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

  Steve rode north from the Great Wall at a trot. That speed was risky in the moonlight on a bad road, but it was his only chance to catch up to Marcia and her kidnappers. He hoped that they had been traveling at a walk ever since they had left. If not, he had no chance of catching up.

  He held the lantern forward as he rode, to see the fresh tracks he was following. While those tracks were not much newer than the other tracks left by the day’s travelers, they overlaid the earlier tracks with clear imprints on the dry, dusty road. He knew they might leave the road at any time, and he had to spot the location immediately if they did. Since Hunter, wi
th his enhanced vision, had failed to notice where Wayne’s group had left the road last night, Steve was acutely aware of how easy it would be to miss this.

  Through the shadows in the moonlight, Steve kept his gaze on the road. He left his lapel pin turned on. It provided him with the sounds of hoofbeats of the riders ahead of him. Gradually, he heard those hoofbeats grow louder as he gained ground on the steep, rolling slopes.

  When Steve heard voices coming from his lapel pin, he listened carefully. He heard Marcia’s captors discuss their plans for her. From his own point of view, having Marcia tied up and abandoned was not bad at all. If he could avoid her kidnappers on their return trip, he could find her through the lapel pin and free her.

  However, he did not like the uncertainty in their voices. He was afraid they might change their minds and kill her outright after all. That meant he still had to rescue her if he could.

  Steve wanted to form a plan, but he was not sure how to proceed. From the volume and clarity of the hoofbeats coming through his lapel pin, he knew that he was not too far behind them now. He guessed the distance at about thirty meters, a distance at which he could still not hear their hoofbeats clearly without the radio signal. Apparently they were behind some hill.

  Steve paused to blowout the flame inside the lantern he carried. Otherwise, Marcia’s captors would see the glow as he drew closer. They would not hear his hoofbeats for a while yet because the sound of their own would camouflage his.

  Steve wished he could confer with Marcia. He wanted to reassure her that he was nearby and also plan her escape with her. Of course, her captors would hear his voice.

  Then he realized that he could use that to his advantage. After all, they believed that he and Marcia dealt in evil spirits. Hearing his voice through her lapel pin now would not make any difference.

  “Marcia, Steve here,” he said in English. “I’m right behind you.”

  He heard a roar of startled shouts from the men in the background.

  “Mmmmmm.”

  “Marcia, you okay? Is that you?”

  “Mmm.”

  Steve realized, then, that she was gagged.

  The men were still gasping, then shouting, in awe at the sound of a man’s voice from nowhere.

  Steve switched to Chinese. “Do not harm this woman,” he intoned authoritatively. “She is under the protection of good spirits. Beware.”

  “Hunter here.” The robot’s voice was weak and nearly drowned out by static. “Since you are not afraid of being overheard, I can say I am much closer to you now than I have been all day. Marcia must be in trouble. I am riding as fast as I can, but my mount is very tired.”

  “Where are you, Hunter?” Steve asked. “We need help. I don’t have any weapons or anything.”

  “I can see lights in what I believe is a watchtower in the Great Wall ahead, but I am not close to it yet. Right now, I am on the crest of a hill, looking across a considerable distance.”

  “We don’t have time for you to catch up,” said Steve. “Follow us if you can.”

  Up ahead in the moonlight, Steve saw the shadows of the group on horseback. His only advantage was their fear of evil spirits, so he decided to give them another scare if he could. Suddenly kicking his mount hard into a gallop, he screamed as loud as he could and rode straight toward them.

  With panicked shouts, the riders in front of him all turned and fled. He could see Marcia’s silhouette momentarily in the moonlight. Her mount suddenly took off away from the road, over a rolling hill.

  Steve saw that her arms angled down to the pommel of the saddle and suddenly realized that her horse was out of control. He reined after her and kicked his mount hard. “Hang on!”

  Marcia was helpless on her breakneck ride through the near-darkness. At any moment, her horse could stumble in the moonlight, throwing her out of the saddle and then dragging her by her wrists. If his own mount fell, he might never catch up to her.

  “Turn your horse!” Steve shouted to Marcia. “Use your knees, elbows, lean against the side of his neck, anything! Try to slow down!”

  Steve knew that she couldn’t actually turn her mount completely. However, she might slow him down, even make him turn a little. Now, Steve could see that he was gaining ground on Marcia.

  Her horse went over the crest of a rounded hill and down a steep slope. Marcia leaned to one side in the saddle, struggling to steer her horse to the right. Steve rode hard and gradually came up on her left. Her reins would be trailing loose from her horse’s bridle.

  Steve leaned forward over his mount’s neck, still riding hard. He looped his reins over his left wrist and shifted the paper lantern to his left hand. With his right hand, he reached out and flailed in the dark for Marcia’s reins. Suddenly his hand snagged the loose, unseen reins and he jerked them taut.

  “Whoa!” Steve drew back, reining in his own mount and also Marcia’s.

  Back on the road, the other riders did not stop. They rode on into the darkness. In a moment, even their shadows were lost around the next bend.

  Steve and Marcia finally came to a halt. He maneuvered his horse next to hers so he could reach her gag. She leaned toward him to make it easier.

  “Got her, Hunter.” Steve reached over and untied the cloth around Marcia’s mouth. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly, nodding. “But my hands are tied.”

  “I am glad,” Hunter said, his voice still sounding distant through the static.

  “We have to hurry,” said Steve. “I’m afraid those guys will gather their wits and come back for us.” He wished he still had the knife he had carried on their second mission in Jamaica during the seventeenth century. Instead of cutting Marcia loose, he had to untie her. Finally he pulled her bonds free, and she rubbed her sore wrists.

  “Can you handle your reins?” Steve asked.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” Steve turned his mount and kicked it to a trot. Marcia kept pace.

  “Hunter, we’re heading back south at a trot. The guys who kidnapped Marcia are riding fast in the other direction, but I’m afraid they may change their minds.”

  “I understand,” said Hunter. His voice came through slightly more distinctly than before. “I read you more clearly now. I have almost reached the small town by the gate in the Great Wall. I hope to join you soon.”

  “Good,” said Steve, “just in case they come back. But you’ll have to bribe your way through the gate. If we’re lucky, the kidnappers won’t stop running till they reach Siberia. We just can’t take that chance.”

  As they rode, Steve glanced back over his shoulder. He saw no sign of the other men behind them, nor did he hear them. Maybe they truly were too frightened to stop fleeing anytime soon.

  In the distance to his right, he could still see the lights of the Mongol camp in the distance. Some of the campfires had burned down, but others remained as bright as ever. He supposed that Timur and the other sentries kept some fires burning all night.

  Steve and Marcia rode side by side at an urgent trot. Every so often, he turned to look behind them again, but he still saw no one. At times, the moonlight outlined the crenellations atop the Great Wall and the watchtower over the gate ahead of them. Then the road would dip and take them out of sight of the Great Wall again.

  They had ridden for some time when suddenly the dark silhouettes of men on horseback moved out from behind a small bluff. The riders crossed the road at a walk in front of Steve and Marcia. Then they calmly turned to face them and stopped to block the way.

  Startled, Steve yanked back on the reins and started to turn. He saw more riders moving around them on each side. Behind them, several more blocked the road. Marcia, looking around frantically, gasped in surprise.

  “Who are you?” A voice demanded in Mongol. “Where are you going at this hour?”

  “Back to the Great Wall,” Steve said politely in the same language.

  Suddenly one of the other riders made a
clicking sound and lit a torch. Steve winced in the sudden light, then saw that the Mongol raising the torch held a flint and steel in his other hand. By the flickering orange torchlight, Steve recognized Timur as the man who had spoken.

  “Ah!” Timur grinned, seeing Steve’s face clearly for the first time...So, it is my friend from dinner!”

  17

  Steve smiled back Timur, relieved to see him in a friendly frame of mind. “Good evening.”

  “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, my friend?” In the flickering torchlight, Timur glanced at Marcia, then back at Steve.

  “Be careful,” Marcia whispered in English. “Kidnapping probably gets the death penalty here. Almost every serious crime does.”

  Steve understood her point. They did not want to cause her kidnappers, or anyone else, to die. Already, the team had influenced local people to take many actions they would not have otherwise taken.

  “We had a misunderstanding with some of our fellow travelers, but it is settled now. I apologize for the inconvenience to you and your men.”

  “We can find these people for you. Perhaps you want them punished.”

  “No! No, the problem has ended. I gave them a good scare myself.” Steve glanced at the riders around them, hoping to change the subject. “You must have brought all the sentries out with you.”

  Timur chuckled, and so did many of his companions. “No, my friend. Most of the sentries remain on duty. I saw a mysterious light out here a short while ago and woke up a squad of riders to join me in finding it.”

  “It was just this.” Steve lifted up the paper lantern.

  “I first saw it moving north. By the time we got out here, we heard you returning and took our positions to intercept you.”

  “You were very quiet,” said Steve. He figured a compliment couldn’t hurt. “I had no idea you were coming toward us or waiting here.”

  Timur simply nodded casually. “We shall escort you back through the gate.” He turned his horse, and his men imitated his movement. The rough circle of men around Steve and Marcia began to ride south at a walk.