Monkey (10 page)

“As you wish, sir,” Tonglong replied.

Ying nodded and disappeared up the trail. He soon heard the unmistakable rustle of men racing across the forest floor. The shrieking of the macaques was growing closer and more urgent.

Ying stepped off the trail.

A moment later, a single soldier ran down the trail toward Ying as though his life depended on the speed of his feet. The man spent more time looking back over his shoulder than he did looking forward on the trail. This was unacceptable behavior for a soldier— especially one within Ying's ranks.

I said I would teach the men a lesson,
Ying thought.
Class is now in session.

Ying locked one arm around the trunk of a tree to anchor himself and thrust his other arm out in front of the fleeing soldier's neck. The soldier's eyes bulged in surprise as his head snapped back and his feet flew out from under him. Ying was on top of the man before he even hit the ground.

“Where do you think you're going?” Ying hissed in the man's face. His forked tongue flickered.

The soldier choked several times before mumbling, “Monkeys, sir … the monkeys have gone mad.”

Ying looked up and saw a number of screeching macaques fanning outward through the treetops.

“You're armed soldiers!” Ying said. “What's wrong with you?”

“They attacked us, sir. They're chasing us down. I swear I've never seen anything like it.”

“Where are Commander Woo and Captain Yue? Have they run off, too?”

“I don't think so, sir. Captain Yue is in his sedan chair and Commander Woo is inside a … aahhh … weapons cart.”

“What?” Ying said. “They're
hiding?”

“These are not normal monkeys, sir,” the soldier said. “They seem to be organized and led by a human— a small, dark child monk who carries a white monkey on his shoulder. Some of our men attacked the boy as he tried to release another child monk called Fu from a cage we—”

“Fu!” Ying interrupted. “He's up ahead?”

The soldier nodded.

“What about the scrolls?”

“I think Fu may have them by now, sir.”

“Fu got out of the cage?”

“Yes,” the soldier replied. “The other monk threw him a ring of keys and—”

“ARRRGH!” Ying leaped off the soldier and soared into the nearest tree. From there he could see into a small clearing farther up the trail and, sure enough, there stood Malao and Fu, talking. Fu seemed confused and upset. Malao, as usual, appeared to be making jokes. There wasn't a single soldier around.

Ying spat and sailed to the ground. He worked his way silently through the underbrush, stopping when he reached a large bush directly behind Malao. As
Malao continued his banter with Fu on the opposite side, Ying slid his chain whip out from one of his oversized sleeves. In one lightning-fast motion, he wound up and lashed out around the side of the bush at ankle-height. Ying heard the familiar
whoosh!
and a satisfying
clink! clink! clink!
Even more satisfying was the sound of air rapidly exiting Malao's lungs as Ying yanked on the chain and Malao slammed into the dirt.

“Come here, you little knuckle-dragger!” Ying snarled as he stepped through the bush and pulled Malao toward him. Both Malao's ankles were wrapped tightly together with one end of the chain whip.

Ying looked over at Fu, and Fu's mouth dropped open. Ying was amused to see the scabbed-over slice in Fu's cheek stretch to a point where it had to hurt. Ying glanced down at Fu's chest and saw a dragon scroll poking out. He was about to lunge for the scroll when he noticed Fu's body go rigid.

Ying turned and saw Tonglong approaching with his men. Near the front of the group was Hok hanging from the pole.

“FU! HELP ME!” Malao cried.

Ying smirked as Fu leaped next to Malao and grabbed the end of the chain near Malao's feet. Fu's robe opened slightly and Ying saw more scrolls. As he prepared to launch himself at Fu, Ying heard monkeys approaching. Angry monkeys. He looked up and saw dozens of macaques racing toward him through the treetops.

“Fire!” Ying commanded, and shots rang out from
the
qiangs
carried by Tonglong's men. Monkeys rained down around them. A piercing screech filled the air, and Ying noticed a white monkey run off into the trees. Blood dripped from its arm. The remaining monkeys followed the white one's hasty retreat.

Ying laughed. “Fine fighting force you have there, Malao.”

Fu growled and said, “Finer than the men you lost at Cangzhen! At least most of the monkeys …
GRRRRR …
escaped …
ARRRRR …
alive!”

Through the taut chain, Ying felt Fu tense in preparation for a mighty jerk. Ying chuckled to himself. The instant he felt Fu's big pull begin, Ying let go of the chain.

Fu sailed backward and Ying soared forward toward his closest opponent—Malao.

“Don't let him grab you!” Fu cried out.

But it was already too late. Ying clamped down on Malao's exposed neck with a powerful eagle claw. His razor-sharp fingernails pierced Malao's skin, sinking deep into a pressure point. Ying grinned at Fu as he squeezed, his nails slicing into Malao's nervous system like thin, ragged knives. Malao slipped into unconsciousness.

Ying watched Fu's eyes fill with fury. Ying discreetly formed an eagle claw with his free hand and took a deep breath. An instant later, Fu leaped at Ying's outstretched arm, attempting to break Ying's grip on Malao.

Fu can be so predictable,
Ying thought. As Fu
smashed into his arm, Ying released Malao and lashed out with his other hand, latching on to the back of Fu's neck with amazing speed. Fu didn't have a chance. Like Malao, Fu was unconscious within moments.

Ying lessened his grip on Fu and removed the scrolls from Fu's robe. He addressed his men.

“Did all of you see that?” Ying said. “That is how you take care of business! Quickly, efficiently, decisively!”

Ying glanced over at one of the weapons carts and saw Commander Woo sitting inside it with the hatch open. The Commander's right leg was bent at an odd angle.

“COMMANDER WOO!”Ying said. He pointed to Hok. “Look what Tonglong has caught. There is your restless spirit from Cangzhen, hanging from that pole. He was the one you felt watching you, and he snatched the Grandmaster's body from beneath your nose. Hobble over there on your one good leg and untie the one called Hok so that he can walk. He's going on a little trip.”

Commander Woo nodded and Ying looked over at Captain Yue's sedan chair. The silk curtains were drawn tight.

“CAPTAIN YUE!” Ying shouted. “Get yourself out from behind those curtains this instant.” Captain Yue poked his head out and Ying continued. “You will tie up the two troublemakers known as Fu and Malao, and they, too, will walk. Their paralysis is only temporary, so I suggest you hurry.”

Captain Yue made a sour face but nodded in consent. Ying scowled and turned to Tonglong.

“TONGLONG! You have proven your loyalty to me by capturing Hok. Now it is time for you to get your hands dirty. You will finish what was left unfinished back at the temple. Kill these monks. We will set up camp here for the night, so make sure you take them far into the forest before completing the job. I don't want any tigers coming around here to dine on their corpses or lap up their blood. If you run into any problems, fire a warning shot from a
qiang.
I'd hate to have to interrupt my reading to clean up any mess you might make, so don't make any mistakes. And make sure you pay special attention to Fu. He's already gotten away from you once.”

“I give you my word,” Tonglong said with a gleam in his eye. “I'll take care of the one called Fu.”

“We'll see about that,” Ying replied. “Don't forget to keep an eye on Hok. And keep a tight leash on Malao, too. Malao may not look like much, but he's a tricky little runt. Now get out of here!”

V
ery little time had passed, but Ying knew his world had changed forever. As he lay on his sleeping mat inside his tent, he rode a wave of emotions he had never known. He tried his best to relax, but nothing seemed to work. He was just too excited.

Now I know how Malao feels most of the time,
Ying joked with himself.
Pity I'll never get to tell him.

Ying was immersed in reading the first dragon scroll. His brain absorbed the information like a thirsty sea sponge. For the first time ever, Ying felt a connection with something. It wasn't a person or a place, it was a philosophy—an approach to life outlined within the first dragon scroll. He had always assumed the secret scrolls for each animal kung fu style contained advanced
fighting techniques—and they did—but they also contained other things: mental guidelines, spiritual guidelines, and much, much more.

Back at Cangzhen, Ying had always been criticized for focusing all his energy on the martial aspects of his eagle-style training. He had ignored the mental and spiritual components, but he had had good reason— the fighting component was the only part that had ever made sense to him.

But now that he was reading the first dragon scroll, Ying was beginning to understand that there was more to kung fu than fighting. Having the nonfighting elements explained in a manner that his inner dragon could comprehend made all the difference. In fact, even the eagle-style fighting techniques he had perfected over time didn't make as much sense as the fighting philosophies described in the first dragon scroll. Ying now saw why dragon-style kung fu was considered the most powerful.

A dragon stylist's life was to be a rich combination of all things: positive and negative, internal and external, hard and soft. At the very surface was the self-defense component, which took the best attributes of the most effective animal kung fu styles known. Dragon-style kung fu involved the use of pressure-point attacks and joint locks from the eagle-style arsenal, pinpoint strikes from the crane style, heavy-handed blows from the tiger style, and circular evasion movements from the snake style, all combined with the unpredictability of the monkey style.

Beyond the fighting techniques, Ying saw another side of martial training he never knew existed: leadership skills. He had had no idea that some people considered leadership an art. The first scroll outlined numerous psychological techniques that could be used to convince men to do what you wanted them to do. There was even a section on psychological warfare.

Ying could feel his power increasing with every line he read. He was more certain than ever that he was born to be a dragon. Strangely enough, some of the psychological techniques Ying read in the scroll were techniques he recognized Tonglong used when directing soldiers. Ying decided to pay closer attention to Tonglong.

Ying closed his eyes. Once his brothers were out of the picture, he would accept the title of General and become the youngest leader ever to report directly to an emperor. While that was an admirable goal, he wanted more. Both his father and Grandmaster had been dragons to the core, but Ying wanted more power than either of them had had. The dragon scrolls would help him first become like them—then surpass them.

A distant
KAA-BOOM!
suddenly cut through Ying's head like a battle-ax through a winter melon.

“ARRRGH!” Ying shouted as he rolled up the first dragon scroll and dropped it onto his sleeping mat. It seemed his visions of greatness would have to wait. His men had just failed. Again. That was a warning shot from a
qiang.

Ying bolted out of his tent and raced over to Tong-long's horse. He passed a wide-eyed soldier and hissed, “I'll return shortly. Tell the men not to do anything stupid while I'm gone.”

Ying unhitched the horse, leaped onto its bare back, and grabbed hold of the reins. He thrust his long toenails into the horse's sides and hung on tight with his powerful thighs, steering the animal as best he could toward the trail Tonglong's men had hacked into the forest.

Horseback riding was not a skill practiced at Cangzhen, and Ying had had little time to learn it while employed by the Emperor. He had a difficult time, to say the least. Branches tugged at his silk robe and pants, and the horse seemed to go out of its way to lean toward any tree limb that might knock Ying and his toenails from its back. By the time Ying reached the clearing where three men lay sprawled on the ground, his clothes were in tatters and his arms and legs were badly scratched and bruised. But he didn't notice. He was too busy trying to make sense of what he saw before him.

All three men lay facedown, spread quite some distance apart. Two of the men were soldiers. The third, with his thick braid and straight sword, was Tonglong. Tonglong and one of the soldiers didn't have any visible injuries, but the third man was a mess. His back appeared to have been shredded by a metal rake. Next to that soldier was a
qiang,
and in front of the
qiang was
a tree with a fresh hole at the base. The soldier must have
fired the warning shot. As Ying dismounted, the mangled man turned his head to one side and moaned. Ying walked over to him and bent down.

“What happened here?” Ying asked in a firm tone. “Who did this to you?”