Dragon (Page 20)

Fortunately, PawPaw was familiar with NgGung’s ways. She hurried outside to greet him alone, while Long continued to peer through the shutters, sizing up the other two bandits. One was a thick but pleasant-looking man with a clean-shaven head and face. He looked a surprising amount like Fu, and was surely Fu’s father, Sanfu—Mountain Tiger.

The other man was gargantuan, with short, greasy hair and the heaviest beard Long had ever seen. He had to be Hung, or Bear. Malao had told Long about a fight he’d had with Hung many months ago, and Long made a mental note to not get on Hung’s bad side.

PawPaw called Long outside to meet the group, and, thankfully, NgGung made no mention of his crazy game. After a few formalities, they got right to loading PawPaw’s things into the carts.

Hung made it clear from the beginning that he was in charge, and that they were in a hurry. It was midmorning, and he hoped to be on the way by mid-afternoon. PawPaw encouraged him and the others to spend a restful night at her home instead and head out first thing the following morning, but Hung would not hear of it. He said that he was eager to return to their camp as soon as possible, because they had received reports that Tonglong and his army were heading in their direction. They had a lot of work to do to prepare for what he felt would be an unavoidable battle.

Long worked quickly and silently alongside the bandits, and they finished faster than Long would have believed possible. The men were careful and efficient. He was impressed.

Hung’s plan was to travel until dark unless there was a bright moon, in which case they would march for as long as possible by its light, too. It had taken the bandits six days to get there, and even though the carts were now fully weighted down, Hung wanted to return in five. He allowed them to quickly eat a hot meal Paw-Paw had prepared, and they left.

Long fell into stride beside NgGung at the head of the caravan, leading the first horse with its cart. Sanfu took up a position at the center of the group, leading the second horse and cart with PawPaw riding atop it. Hung guarded their flank, his gigantic war hammers at his side.

Long and NgGung talked for hours as they walked. Despite NgGung’s rough outward appearance, Long found him to be very interesting and intelligent. As one of the bandits’ main spies, NgGung knew a great deal about the politics of the region. He and Long discussed everything from Tonglong to the Emperor to Cangzhen Temple.

Long learned that many of the bandits were once monks who lived at Cangzhen. They had left over a disagreement with Grandmaster years ago, but they still held a great respect for him and his memory. In their opinion, Grandmaster had gotten overly involved in politics, especially where the current Emperor was concerned. The bandits disliked the Emperor, but they believed that things would be much worse if Tonglong took control of the throne. They vowed to stop him at any cost.

It was dusk before Long and NgGung’s conversation started to dwindle. At this time, Long began to pay more attention to the forest sounds around him, and he could have sworn the noise level was diminishing. He soon felt his dan tien begin to warm, and he turned to NgGung. “Something is not right.”

NgGung nodded and raised a hand to stop the caravan. A skinny middle-aged man wearing a threadbare robe jumped out of the undergrowth in front of them. Two more men in equally shabby clothing leaped onto the trail behind Long and NgGung’s cart. All three men carried makeshift kwandos—long wooden shafts tipped with a large wide blade on one end and a heavy metal spike on the other.

These men could not have chosen a more inappropriate weapon to wield in the narrow confines of this forest trail. A kwando was designed for use in an open battlefield. They would never be able to swing their weapons properly without hitting the close-packed tree trunks and endless overhanging branches.

It was apparent that these men had planned to rob them, but they were obviously amateurs. They had chosen their weapons for shock value instead of practicality. And judging from the imbalanced manner in which the lead man was holding his weapon, it was equally clear that he would not know how to use it even if he did have the room.

NgGung seemed to have noticed these things, too. He smiled and took a step forward.

“Stop!” the lead man commanded in a surprisingly strong voice. “Move away from your cart and there won’t be any trouble. We do not want to hurt you.”

NgGung patted the horse’s nape and handed its reins over to Long. “We do not want any trouble, either, my good man,” NgGung said, taking another step forward. “Why don’t you find someone else to pester?”

“Don’t take another step,” the lead man warned. He pointed the kwando’s blade at NgGung’s head and shook it powerfully. It was an impressive display for such a skinny man.