Snake (9 page)

But it was too late. A huge hairy hand yanked Malao into the stronghold, and the gate slammed shut.

T
onglong sat high in a large willow tree, staring westward across the circular lake with the rocky mountain island in the middle. Three tiny black dots had been moving about near the top of the mountain, but their number had just been reduced to two. Soon the remaining two would also disappear, and his job here would be complete.

For now.

Tonglong glanced down the beach from where the young warrior monks had shoved off. He could clearly see two figures—a boy and a girl—sitting side by side, mending a large fishing net. They looked like twins and had hollow sticks dangling from their mouths.

Tonglong thought about how dangerous those hollow tubes could be. For example, if a person were to sink into a murky lake and use one of those tubes to breathe, that person would be at risk of inhaling whatever might happen to pass into that tube. Sleeping mushrooms were plentiful in this region, and it was conceivable that some spores could be drifting about. What if those spores found their way into those hollow sticks? Very dangerous indeed.

Tonglong reached into his robe and pulled out a tube of a different sort—the dragon scroll he had taken from Ying as Ying lay unconscious at Shaolin Temple. He opened it and frowned. It was not the scroll he wanted. The snake boy must have the special one, along with the other two dragon scrolls. Tonglong would have to make plans to acquire them all without arousing suspicion.

In the meantime, he had to devise a way to give this single scroll back to Major Ying and make it look like the boy snake had been in possession of it.

Ying and his ridiculous carved face, constantly shouting orders and making demands,
Tonglong thought. Ying's most recent demand had been that Tonglong return to Cangzhen as soon as his mission of following the boys was complete.

As far as Tonglong was concerned, this mission was accomplished. He climbed down from the tree.

Just one more thing to do,
Tonglong thought. Before heading to Cangzhen, he needed to see a man about a boat. Actually, a fleet of boats. It was time he
collected some favors. If everything worked out, he would not only be able to give Ying the young warrior monks, he would also give Ying his very own stronghold. Ying would be a very happy young man. Tonglong, however, would be even happier.

M
ALAO!
” Seh shouted.

Fu roared and jumped to his feet. He began clawing at the massive stronghold gate. Tree bark flew in every direction.

From behind the gate, Seh heard Malao squeal, and somebody growled, deep and powerful, “Why, you little—”

Seh recognized that voice. It belonged to the bear-style kung fu master, Hung, Mong's right-hand man.

“Open up, Hung!” Seh shouted. He banged on the gate.

“Seh, is that you?” asked another voice from inside the stronghold. Seh recognized that voice, too. It was NgGung.

“Yes!” Seh said. “Open the gate, NgGung! And tell that hairy beast to leave my little brother alone. Malao hasn't done anything wrong.”

“Malao is fine,” NgGung replied. “Just a moment.”

The gate swung open, and Seh slipped inside. The pit of his stomach began to tingle, and the snake gripped his arm tight. Seh ducked.

The back of NgGung's fist spun over Seh's head. “Nice move!” NgGung said. “Welcome to the stronghold!”

Seh's eyes widened. “You're crazy!”

“Thank you,” NgGung replied. He turned toward the gate opening and began to spin.

“Be careful, Fu!” Seh shouted.
“Crouching Tiger Comes Out of the Cave!”
Seh glanced over his shoulder and saw Hung leaning against the trunk of a large tree, grinning. Hung's beady black eyes shone bright beneath his massive, hairy brow. Hung folded his arms and rested them on his enormous, jiggling belly.

Fu lumbered through the gate hunched over, like a tiger crouching. NgGung's spinning back fist breezed over Fu's head, and Seh saw one of NgGung's legs begin to rise. Fu must have seen it, too. Fu lifted one knee high to block the kick and thrust two tiger-claw fists straight out with a mighty roar.

Fu's fists connected solidly with NgGung's mid-section and NgGung was lifted off the ground. Fu clamped onto NgGung's tattered vest with both hands and dropped to his knees, twisting his body powerfully to one side. NgGung slammed to the ground and Fu jumped on top of him.

NgGung lay in a heap beneath Fu, laughing. “That was fantastic!” NgGung said. “Oh, my back is killing me! Where did you learn that?”

“It's an original,” Fu growled. “Where's my little brother?”

“Up here, Fu!” Malao said. “Nice move!”

Seh looked high in the tree Hung was leaning against. Malao was dangling from a thin limb close to the very top.

Hung ran one hand through the greasy mass of thick hair on top of his head and growled at Fu. “You are Sanfu's boy, aren't you?”

“Who?” Fu asked.

“Mountain Tiger,” NgGung answered. “That's how we know him. You might know him as the Drunkard.”

Fu slammed his fist into the dirt next to NgGung's head. “What do you know about the Drunkard?”

Hung chuckled, low and deep. “He's Sanfu's boy, all right.”

“Fu,” Seh said, “you can question NgGung later. We need some other answers first.” He looked at NgGung, then at Hung. “Why did you attack us?”

Hung scratched his heavy beard. “It's a rite of passage. You should feel honored.”

NgGung laughed. “Right! And Hung is still upset that Malao got the best of him! I'd wager he also hasn't forgotten that you were the one who threw Malao the spear, Seh. Hung is still walking with a bit of a limp.”

Hung growled.

Seh ignored him. “Where is Mong?”

Hung flashed a sarcastic grin. “He left last night to get AnGangseh. You know who
she
is, don't you?”

“Yes, I know who she is,” Seh snapped. “When will they return?”

“Two weeks,” Hung said.

“Two weeks!” Seh said. “We can't wait that long. We have to do something now!”

“Don't worry,” Hung replied. “We have plenty for you to do now.”

Fu rolled off NgGung and stood. “Like what?” he asked.

“Yeah, like what?” Malao said as he climbed down the tree.

NgGung stood and stroked his long, thin mustache. “Well, for one, we have to prepare for the banquet.”

Fu's eyes widened. “Banquet?”

“Yes,” NgGung said. “The biggest this stronghold has ever seen. But first we need to finish building the banquet hall.”

Seh looked at NgGung. “Tell me more.”

“Mong has always wanted a banquet hall,” NgGung said. “This year, he finally decided to build one. We weren't supposed to finish it until this summer, but when he learned you might be coming here, he ordered us to speed up construction. He told us if you showed up while he was gone to have a banquet ready when he arrives. It will be especially important for him because AnGangseh will be here, too.”

Hung nodded. “And since we have to speed things up because of you, you and your brothers are going to
help.” He pointed to Fu. “You're coming with me, big boy, and your brothers will go with NgGung. We have a lot of work to do. Let's move.”

The stronghold was alive with activity. There were many more people inside the stronghold than Seh had imagined. He counted close to two hundred men and women in all.

Seh realized the stronghold functioned like a small town. He saw several blacksmiths and two shops selling food. There were people making clothes and others making shoes and boots. He even saw several buildings overflowing with pigs, chickens, and other animals.

They passed through the buildings and stopped at the edge of an open plateau. It was large, with small pockets of evergreen trees spread in every direction. Seh felt like he was on top of the world.

“It's nice up here, isn't it?” NgGung said.

Seh nodded. “What's that?” He pointed to the skeleton of a very large building.

“That, my friend, is the banquet hall,” NgGung replied.

“We have two weeks to finish it?” Seh asked.

“I'm afraid so,” NgGung said.

Seh spent what was left of the day in the rafters with NgGung. Malao did, too, but they had very different jobs. Malao leaped from rafter to rafter and scurried up and down support posts getting tools for people, while Seh made his way slowly along each
rafter with NgGung, joining the rafters to their supporting beams. Occasionally, Seh caught a glimpse of Fu, dragging enormous sections of lumber to the work site with Hung. Fu did not look happy.

Before leaving the work site for the evening, Seh released the snake for the night like he always did and turned his attention to the three dragon scrolls he had been carrying. He had spread them out to dry on a huge rock earlier, where he could keep an eye on them. They were now ready to be rolled back up.

Seh saw that two of the scrolls contained detailed descriptions of dragon-style kung fu techniques, and one was a basic pressure point chart. On the opposite side of the pressure point chart was a drawing of
chi
meridians—the channels through which energy travels throughout a person's body.

Seh thought the two-sided scroll with the drawings was rather odd. The information in both drawings was knowledge handed down to every kung fu student, regardless of the style they studied. Seh decided that
chi
meridians and pressure points must be especially important to dragon-style kung fu masters.

As Seh began to roll up the scrolls, NgGung approached him.

“I have some information for you,” NgGung said.

Seh frowned. “Am I going to have to fight you for it?”

NgGung chuckled. “No, no. This concerns your sister. It's free.”

Seh's eyebrows rose.

“There is a price on her head,” NgGung said. “My sources seem to think she survived the assault, and the soldiers who attacked Shaolin have been spreading a rumor that Hok assisted them in destroying Shaolin.”

“That's impossible!” Seh said.

“I'd agree with you,” NgGung said. “However, the damage is done. The soldiers claim that Hok arrived at Shaolin ahead of the troops and opened the gates for them in the middle of the night. They say if it wasn't for her, they never would have gotten access.”

“What else do you know?”

“Nothing,” NgGung replied. “I'm sorry, Seh.”

“We have to do something,” Seh said.

“You're right,” NgGung said. “And we will, after Mong returns. We can't have the locals believing a former Cangzhen monk was responsible for the destruction of the mighty Shaolin Temple.”

Seh looked at NgGung. “Why did you leave Cangzhen?”

“Me?” NgGung said. “Basically, I didn't see eye to eye with Grandmaster. The same is true for the others.”

Seh rubbed his long chin. “So you, Mong, Hung, Gao, and Sanfu left Cangzhen and formed a… gang?”

“A few others left, too,” NgGung said. “Some of them still work with us. Some of them don't.”

“And you … steal things?”

NgGung frowned. “We don't steal anything. We're
bandits, not thieves. Thieves steal from innocent people for selfish reasons. Bandits intercept shipments of gold and such from tax collectors.”

“How is that not stealing?” Seh asked.

“Because we give it all back to the people,” NgGung replied.

“Oh,” Seh said. “So you don't keep any of the money?”

“No. Several of the bandits would love to keep at least a small percentage, but Mong won't allow it. That's why our stronghold is so independent. Everyone here has a job in addition to being a bandit. We're very busy.”

Seh pointed to the skeleton of lumber that was to become the bandit banquet hall. “‘Busy’ is an understatement. You really plan to finish that in two weeks?”

“That's right,” NgGung said. “Two weeks.”