Mouse (2 page)

Hok stared at him, unblinking, then turned away. She adjusted a large bag of medicinal herbs over her shoulder and grabbed a spyglass from Ying.

Ying turned to Charles. “I thought you said this
boat was fast? Can't we outrun them? Let's at least get a little closer and see what we're up against before you decide to run away.”

“I'll tell you what we're up against,” Charles replied. “I had a clean sweep of their deck with my spyglass. They have fourteen twelve-pound cannons and at least ten soldiers with muskets. I have two pistols. We don't stand a chance. I can outrun them, sure, but we can't get any closer than this. Those big guns can nearly reach us as it is. I'm turning around.”

Hok uttered a soft cry, and Charles looked over to see her gaze fixed in the direction of Tonglong's man-o-war. “Oh, no!” Hok said. “They've found him! A sailor just lifted the tarp ShaoShu was hiding under. Take a look.” She held the spyglass out to Charles, but he didn't take it.

Hok's face turned bitter, and she handed the spyglass to Ying.

Charles shook his head. What didn't they understand? He was the captain of this vessel, and he had announced his decision. They were turning around.

“Crew, ready to jibe!” Charles commanded.

Fu and Malao glanced at him questioningly

“I said, ready to jibe!” Charles repeated. “On the double!”

Fu and Malao sprang into action. Fu grabbed the jib sheet while Malao gripped a large block and tackle dangling high overhead. Hok and Ying were about to learn who was the boss.

“Jibe ho!” Charles shouted, and spun the wheel hard.

“What?” Hok and Ying asked in unison.

The boat lurched heavily to one side, and Malao shrieked, “Duck!”

Hok and Ying dropped to the deck, barely avoiding the heavy boom as it swung powerfully across the boat from port to starboard.

“Nice move, sister!” Malao said. “Me and Fu were both knocked overboard the first time Charles did that!”

Charles nodded appreciatively. He, too, was impressed by Hok's and Ying's reflexes. He continued the turn until they were pointing away from Tonglong's boat. The wind filled the sloop's sails once more, and they began racing away from the man-o-war. Charles looked back over the stern and was relieved to see that Tonglong's ship showed no signs of following or firing upon them.

Ying stood on unsteady legs and leaned his dragon face in close to Charles’ face. Ying bared his sharpened teeth and flicked out his forked tongue. “Don't you
ever
do that again without telling us first,” he hissed.

“Do what?” Charles asked. “Jibe?”

“Whatever it is you call turning around. That wooden pole nearly took our heads off.”

“It's called a
boom,”
Charles said. “And I gave you both fair warning. If you want to sail on
my
boat, you need to learn the language of the sea traders.”

Ying spat over the side rail. “Sea traders?
Pirates
is more like it.”

Charles felt his face begin to redden, his cheeks
hot against the cold autumn wind. With great effort, he held his tongue—and his pistols—for Hok's sake. He knew how much she disliked violence.

Hok stood and brushed off her dress. She adjusted her herb bag, then laid a hand softly on Ying's shoulder. “There is no point in arguing. That would only waste time and energy. What we need now is a plan, as our temple brother Seh would say.”

“Where is that sneaky snake, anyway?” Ying asked.

“He is with friends,” Hok replied. “A group of honorable bandits that includes his father. Seh has been injured.”

“Oh,” Ying said, not seeming to care.

Malao swung down from the masthead and joined them on deck. He poked Charles in the side. “Well, matey, where are we shoving off to now?”

“We need to discuss it,” Charles said, gazing at Hok. He really did feel bad about abandoning her friend.

Hok said nothing.

“I want to help you, Hok,” Charles said. “I am truly sorry about ShaoShu. However, sometimes the best course of action is retreat. That doesn't mean we can't attack later when the conditions are more favorable to us.”

“What do you suggest, then?” Hok asked, not looking at him.

“I have friends in the area. We will go to them. They live on an island not far from here and—”

Ying cleared his throat and tapped Hok on the
shoulder with a long fingernail. Hok's eyes widened as something unspoken passed between them.

“What?” Charles asked.

Ying turned his back to Charles and stared out to sea.

“What is it?” Charles asked again. “I can't help you if you're keeping secrets from me.”

“It's Ying's mother,” Hok replied.

Charles thought for a moment, then slapped his pale forehead. “Of course! How could I have forgotten? She was injured by Tonglong and his men before they took the treasure, right?”

“That's right,” Hok said.

“So you want to go back up the river, to the creek mouth bordered by twin pagodas?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” Hok replied.

“Then why didn't you just say so?” Charles said. “Hang on!”

“W
ell, well, well,” Tonglong said, adjusting his pony-tail braid over his shoulder and tucking the end into the sash around his waist. “What do we have here?”

ShaoShu swallowed hard, fighting the urge to glance away from Tonglong's piercing gaze. He had encountered his fair share of bullies, and he knew that you had to stand up to them. You had to stare them straight in the eye.

“My name is ShaoShu,” ShaoShu replied.

“Hmm, Little Mouse?” Tonglong smirked and looked at the young man beside him at the ship's rail— the young man who had caught ShaoShu. “What do you make of the boy's name?”

“It seems fitting to me, considering the manner in which he was found,” the young man replied.

The man was, of course, referring to the cat. Trying his best to look offended, ShaoShu stared at the young man. He appeared to be nearly twenty years old and looked Chinese, but he had pale brown eyes and wore his black hair close cropped. Instead of a typical Chinese robe and pants, he dressed like a Round Eye sailor—long trousers with pockets, buckled shoes, and a billowing shirt that was bound at the wrists. His white cat was at his feet, weaving its way between his ankles.

ShaoShu felt the mouse in his sash pouch begin to squirm, and he turned to Tonglong.

“ShaoShu,” Tonglong said. “Is that your real name?”

“It's the only thing anyone has ever called me,” ShaoShu answered.

“How old are you?”

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

“I don't have any parents,” ShaoShu replied. “There's never been anyone to tell me how old I am or when my birthday is. I guess I'm about seven years old.”

Tonglong nodded. “You're an orphan?”

“Yes.”

Tonglong pointed to the young man at his side, now leaning against the ship's side rail. “He also has a unique name. He is called Lei, or Thunder. He is the chief gunner of this vessel.”

Unsure of how he should reply, ShaoShu bowed.

Lei nodded.

“When was the last time you ate something, ShaoShu?” Tonglong asked.

ShaoShu suddenly grew nervous. This sounded like a trick question. He'd swiped the bean-paste bun during the night, but he didn't want to confess it. On the other hand, he didn't want to lie to a man like Tonglong. Perhaps Tonglong had even seen the remains of the bun on the treasure pile from when ShaoShu fed the mouse and already knew the answer to his own question.

ShaoShu lowered his eyes. “I stole a bean-paste bun from a soldier on deck last night, sir.”

Tonglong frowned. “You stole something from one of my men? Right here on deck?”

“I am very sorry, sir,” ShaoShu said, looking up. “I know I shouldn't have taken the bun, and I really shouldn't have taken your spyglass. Some times I just can't help myself. Please don't string me up from the rigging for the birds to eat my liver.”

Tonglong rubbed his chin. “Where did you find my spyglass?”

“You left it over there last night,” ShaoShu said, pointing to a small table bolted to the deck at the ship's stern.

“You didn't enter my cabin?” Tonglong asked.

ShaoShu's eyes widened. “Never, sir!”

Tonglong looked at ShaoShu suspiciously. “What are you doing on my ship?”

Despite the chilly breeze on deck, ShaoShu began to sweat. He had been practicing his response in case he got caught. “I needed to … I mean, I
wanted
to … leave the city. The city of Hangzhou.”

“You're a thief, aren't you, ShaoShu?” Tonglong said.

ShaoShu didn't reply.

“What did you steal in Hangzhou?”

ShaoShu was definitely in over his head now. He hated lying, because he had a difficult time keeping his lies straight. However, there was no way he could tell Tonglong what he was really doing there.

“I stole some trinkets,” ShaoShu lied.

Tonglong said nothing, obviously expecting more information.

ShaoShu sighed. Not wanting to get too deep into the lie, he decided to tell Tonglong a true story that once happened to him in the city of Xuzhou, where he used to live.

“I tried to sell the trinkets to get some money to buy food,” ShaoShu said. “Except the street vendor I tried to sell them to recognized them. They belonged to someone he knew. He grabbed me, locked me in a bamboo fish trap, and went to find the judge. I escaped and wanted to run away. A boat sounded good. Yours was the first one I saw.”

“A fish trap?” Tonglong said. “How did you escape from it?”

ShaoShu bit his lower lip, realizing that he should
have picked a different story. He didn't like people knowing about his secret.

“Answer my question,” Tonglong said.

ShaoShu frowned. “I can squeeze through tight spaces.”

“How tight?”

“Really tight.”

“You're a contortionist?”

“I don't know that word. I'm just really flexible.”

“Let me get this straight,” Tonglong said. “You managed to stow away on
my
ship back in Hangzhou, and you avoided being detected the entire time we loaded? Then you stole my spyglass in plain sight and took a bun from a soldier on deck, all without anyone catching the slightest glimpse of you. You can also squeeze into tight spaces?”

ShaoShu nodded. “I am very sorry, sir. I understand if you want to kill me. You wouldn't be the first person to feel that way.”

“Kill you?” Tonglong said with a laugh. “I'm going to hire you!” He turned to Lei. “Find an empty bunk for ShaoShu and make sure he gets a decent dinner tonight, as well as breakfast tomorrow. The two of you are to meet me on deck at sunrise. We should be in port by then. I have something special I want the two of you to help me with.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Lei replied.

ShaoShu didn't like the look on Tonglong's face. He swallowed hard, and the mouse in his pouch began to squirm again.

ShaoShu cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir, but what if I can't do the job for you? I'm just a kid, you know.”

Tonglong's face grew suddenly serious, and ShaoShu felt the Mantis's black eyes drill deep into his heart.

“Then I will kill you, kid.”

T
he sun was low in the sky by the time Charles dropped anchor in the Qiantang River. He saw no other boats nearby and no sign of Tonglong's men, but he was not about to take any chances. He was going to bring along his guns.

Charles opened his sea chest and removed a heavy sailcloth bag that had been coated with a thick layer of beeswax. He pulled his matching pistols from the folds of his Chinese-style robe, placed the pistols and his spyglass carefully into the waxed sailcloth bag, and lashed the bag closed with a length of sturdy rope.

He handed Hok a second waxed bag to protect her herb bag and tied his own bag across his back. “Let's go,” Charles said.

Ying nodded and dove into the river first. Hok followed close behind, her bag slung over her shoulders. Malao let out a squeal and leaped into the water from high atop the mast, and Fu flopped over the side with a tremendous splash.

Charles scanned the shore, saw nothing, and plunged into the river. The water was cold enough to make him catch his breath. He made it to shore after a few dozen powerful strokes and, once on the bank, regretted not having packed some dry clothes in the waterproof bag. Until they had time to build a fire and dry out a bit, they would be miserable in this chilly autumn air.