Dragon (14 page)

He drank the entire thing and found that he was still thirsty. He consumed half of the second skin and gave the rest to the horse from his cupped hands.

These small efforts exhausted Long. The wound had definitely weakened him. However, he was feeling better about his chances of success since he had found the water, and he decided to press on toward Tun-huang. He used some of the rope in the saddlebag to secure his camel-hair blanket to the back of the saddle, and he climbed onto the horse and steered it toward the pass. Or, more accurately, it steered him. The horse clearly knew the way.

Long settled into the saddle, leaning back against the plush camel hide. He soon fell asleep. When he woke, it was very late. It was dark and the moon was out. He was so weak now that he was concerned he might fall off the horse and never be heard from again.

Using a section of the remaining rope, Long lashed
himself to the saddle with the camel-hair blanket draped across his shoulders for added warmth. He still wore his jacket, hat, and heavy gloves, but he figured the blanket more than doubled his chances of survival in the bitter nighttime temperatures.

He drifted in and out of consciousness over what he guessed were the next two days, though he could not be sure. He became so dizzy from blood loss and then dehydration, sometimes he could not even tell if it was day or night. Yet this whole time, his horse continued at a steady pace, never stopping.

On what Long thought was probably the third morning since lashing himself to the saddle, he imagined he heard voices and hooves rushing across sand. Without much hope that this was anything more than a hallucination, he raised his weary head.

Long saw two rough-looking young men ride up to him atop Heavenly Horses. They wore black turbans, which led him to believe that they were thieves. He opened his mouth to speak and put up at least a verbal fight, but even his vocal cords had failed him.

The men began to talk with one another in a language he did not understand. Even so, it was clear that they were deciding what they should do with him. One of the men reached over and removed Long’s gloves. They were going to steal the clothes right off his back!

The thief started talking excitedly to the other man, and Long realized that they were both staring at his left hand. More specifically, at the scorpion ring Xie had given him. Surely they would steal that, too.

Long was shocked when he was addressed in perfect Mandarin Chinese. “We are so glad to have found you, young dragon!”

Dumbfounded, Long focused all his energy and managed to mouth a single word. “How?”

“A Heavenly Horse arrived in Tunhuang two days ago. It was tied to an old Mongolian horse that appeared to have led it there. Both were riderless, and the Heavenly Horse was wearing hoof boots that had filled with sand. It was clear that something was amiss. When the story was reported to Warlord Xie, he thought of you and sent two hundred pairs of men out into the desert to discover what had happened. No one expected to find you alive, but here you are! You look like you could use a lake’s worth of fresh water and several nights by a warm fire.”

Long did his best to nod, and the man smiled warmly.

“We will have you in Tunhuang before you know it.”

Y
ing circled the bandits’ former stronghold for the hundredth time, as eager to find a bandit as he was to ambush one of Tonglong’s elite soldiers. He had important information to give to one group, and equally important information to take from the other. He did not care which encounter happened first. In the end, he was going to get what he wanted, and that was Tonglong’s head.

Ying glanced down at Grandmaster’s sword, dangling scabbardless from his sash. It glimmered in the moonlight. Its brilliance was likely to give him up to a keen eye, so he had been limiting his patrols here to the nighttime. Even then, he did his best to remain hidden within shadows.

He had come almost a week ago, after ShaoShu had told him about Tonglong’s short-term intentions. He needed to warn the bandits, but had no idea how to find them. He decided that if he were Mong, he would have bandit spies patrolling the stronghold’s outer reaches in search of information about Tonglong’s plans. Find a spy and he could find Mong.

As for Tonglong’s elite soldiers, find one of them and, with a little persuasion, he should be able to find their leader, too. He had seen many soldiers, but none had been wearing the red uniforms ShaoShu had told him about. They had all been Commander Woo’s men, out on routine patrols, and would not have access to the kind of information Ying desired. As tempted as he was to interrogate a few of them, he had let them all pass. When the time came for one of Tonglong’s men—if not Tonglong himself—Ying would be ready.

His grandfather’s sword would be ready, too. He had spent hours refurbishing it to its former deadly glory. He had gotten nearly every speck of rust off the blade with the help of abrasive stones and river sand. He had always been good with metal, having spent years helping at Cangzhen Temple’s small forge. He had even made his extra-long chain whip himself. He knew good metal when he saw it, and this was the best he had ever held. With additional polishing and a proper whetstone, he could rejuvenate the sword’s legendary edge. Even now, it would get the job done.

Ying continued his hunt in the moon shadows of the stronghold. He moved quickly and with purpose.
Before he knew it, the sun had begun to rise, and he found himself on the opposite side of the stronghold lake’s sizable perimeter from where he normally hid for the day.

He looked around for a place to hide and spied a thick tract of tall reeds following the shoreline for quite some distance. The ground would be soft and dank in there, but the reeds would be great cover.

Not long after entering the reeds, Ying felt his
dan tien
begin to stir, and he heard what sounded like a dog growling. He had never known soldiers to use dogs, but the bandits might. Dogs would make a powerful first line of defense.

He stopped and was readying Grandmaster’s sword for a canine attack when a strange-looking man slipped through the reeds and faced him. The man had huge brown eyes, a big nose, and oversized ears.

The man looked Ying over, then sniffed the air.
Sniff. Sniff
. “What are
you
doing here?” he asked.

“Looking for friends,” Ying replied.

The strange-looking man laughed.
“You?
Friends? Ha-ha-ha!”

Ying took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was not there to make enemies with the bandits, for this man was indeed one of Mong’s men. His name was Gao, or Dog. Ying had caught glimpses of him in and around the bandit stronghold when the bandits still controlled it.

“I suggest you—” Gao began, but he was interrupted by a tremendous shriek from a line of tall cedar
trees bordering the reeds. Ying looked up to see a large white one-eyed macaque glaring down at him. It bared its huge fangs.

This circus is going to attract attention
, Ying thought. He looked back at Gao and saw that Gao was unconcerned about the monkey. Gao sniffed the air again.

The white monkey shrieked a second time, and Ying saw Gao tense. Ying fought the urge to look up at the monkey, keeping his eyes fixed on Gao. While an attack from the toothy macaque would be bad, an attack from Gao would be worse.

A soft voice drifted toward Ying from the cedar boughs overhead. “Malao! Can you make that monkey quiet down? The last thing we need is soldiers finding us because of his noise.”

“I can try,” a small voice replied. “I don’t think we need to worry, though. I just heard Gao sniffing. He’s in the reeds.”

Ying recognized the voices and relaxed. He saw Gao relax, too. That was surely Hok and Malao.

“I thought I smelled your feet, Malao,” Gao said in the direction of the voices. “Over here. There is someone you should see.”

The treetops began to rustle beyond the white macaque, and Ying saw two figures descend. One swung down on a vine, while the other seemed to float to the ground.

A moment later, Malao broke through the reeds and froze, his eyes locking on Ying’s.

The white monkey let out a howl from overhead
and leaped down onto Malao’s shoulder. The macaque was huge, weighing nearly as much as Malao, but Malao took the monkey’s weight in stride. He did not show the slightest strain as the macaque bared its impressive fangs at Ying, noticeably irritated.

Ying nodded to Malao, but Malao did not acknowledge the greeting. Ying thought Malao might bare his teeth, too, but then Hok stepped into the reeds.

“Ying!” Hok said, sounding genuinely happy to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“I have recent news from ShaoShu,” Ying replied. He glanced at Gao, then looked back at Hok. “It concerns the bandits.”

Hok’s eyes widened. “You saw ShaoShu? How is he?”

“He was fine when I saw him a few days ago at Cangzhen Temple. He is with Tonglong.”

“Tonglong arrived at the stronghold several days ago,” Gao said. “What news do you have that concerns us?”

“Tonglong knows about the troops you are training,” Ying said. “He plans to attack, likely any day now. He has an elite force of ninety-nine men on horseback, plus there are the soldiers in the stronghold. That would be a sizable group. He plans to crush you, and once the remainder of his troops arrive—now tens of thousands strong—he will march upon the Forbidden City in an effort to seize the throne.”

Gao nodded. “We knew his plan involved the
Forbidden City, but that he knows about our troops is news to us. We need to take action.”

“You need to retreat,” Ying said. “Unless you have pistols, muskets, and cannons.”

“We have very little in the way of firearms,” Hok said. “Unless Charles manages to—”

Gao held up a hand. “Ying does not need to know about our secret resources.”

“Charles is no secret to Ying,” Hok said. “He and Charles are friends, just as Ying is my friend. We can trust him.” She looked at Ying. “As I was saying, we are hoping Charles can find some firearms for us. In the meantime, we train mostly with spears.”

Ying spat. “I suppose every little bit helps. Where is your camp? We should warn the others immediately.”

“Whoa,” Gao said, holding up his hands. “I am not sure you should be shown its location.”

Hok glared at Gao. “I just told you that Ying can be trusted. I would bet my life on it.”

“You might just have to,” Gao said. “Even if he proves trustworthy, there are many within the camp who would love to tear him limb from limb after he helped capture our stronghold.”

“I am truly sorry for my actions,” Ying said, “and I do not blame you for hating me. However, you once fought against the Emperor, and now it appears you are his ally against Tonglong. Perhaps you can reconsider me, as you have reconsidered him.”

Gao scratched one of his large ears. “You raise a good point. Why is it that you want to come to our
camp, though? We could just as easily convey this information without you.”

Ying nodded toward his grandfather’s sword. “I need a whetstone. If you can provide me with one now, I’ll be on my way.”

“Isn’t that Grandmaster’s sword?” Gao asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you promise to never use it against me or any of our men and women at the camp?”

“I do,” Ying said. “The only flesh this blade will cut is Tonglong’s.”

Gao nodded. “Since Hok says that you can be trusted, you may follow us to the camp. However, I suggest that you remain out of sight. There is no telling how people will react to you. Stay back in the trees, and I will find you the finest sharpening stone we possess.” He nodded at Grandmaster’s sword. “That blade looks like it deserves it.”

Y
ing followed well behind Gao and Malao, with Hok at his side and the white macaque overhead. Ying and Hok conversed in low voices as they hurried along. Hok told him of her adventures since they had parted company in the south, and Ying gave her a detailed account of his encounter with ShaoShu. By the time their conversation reached the present moment, it was late afternoon.

“Will Fu and Seh be at the camp?” Ying asked.