Snake (Five Ancestors #3)(14)
Author: Jeff Stone

Seh approached the man.

The guard raised his spear higher and shook it. “Don’t make me use this!”

Seh found it amusing that he was being threatened with a spear. Everyone at Cangzhen had learned to use a spear, but no monk of any age could match Seh’s skill with the weapon. He was an expert at using one as well as taking one out of the hands of an opponent. If he could provoke the man to attack, Seh thought he could disarm him. Perhaps then the man would be more cooperative.

“Why don’t you give that to me?” Seh said, pointing at the spear. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

The man scowled.

“Well?” Seh said.

The man hesitated.

Seh scoffed and waved his hand, turning away. “Cowardly peasant.”

“Who are you calling a peasant!” the man shouted. He thrust his spear at the back of Seh’s neck.

Seh sensed the spearman move and heard a subtle whoosh of air. He tilted to one side and the spear tip passed harmlessly over his shoulder. Seh grabbed the spear shaft with both hands and lunged forward, pulling the spearman off balance. The man hung on tight with his arms extended, and Seh kicked straight backward. He connected solidly with the spearman’s armpit.

The spearman howled and released the weapon, staggering away from Seh. The snake on Seh’s arm shivered, and Seh saw two more men running down the trail toward them. One carried a broadsword, the other a bow with an arrow already nocked. They stopped next to the disarmed spearman.

“I do not wish to fight,” Seh said, dropping the spear. “I only want to talk to Mong. My name is Seh.”

“I don’t care what your name is,” the swordsman said. “No one talks to Mong. I suggest you turn around and go back the way you came.”

Seh shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” the swordsman said, stepping toward Seh. “Perhaps you didn’t understand what I just said. Maybe I should ask my broadsword to explain it to you? People never seem to misunderstand it.”

Seh bent down and picked up the spear. He glanced disapprovingly at the heavy gray robes worn by the guards. “Broadswords are peasant weapons,” Seh said. “I don’t speak peasant, so I doubt I would understand it any better than I do you”

The swordsman’s face flushed. “You shall pay dearly for that!” He rushed toward Seh with his broadsword held high in one hand, his other arm defensively in front of his chest. This man knew how to fight. Seh had to be careful.

Seh gripped the spear at its center balance point with both hands, his lead hand in an overhand grip and his trailing hand in an underhand grip. When the swordsman was within range, Seh raised the spear high and thrust its razor-sharp tip down at an angle toward the man’s stomach.

The swordsman stopped short and swung his broadsword down in front of his body, knocking the spear tip straight down—exactly as Seh had hoped. Seh used the spear tip’s downward momentum to help swing the entire spear end over end in a powerful circle. The tail end of the spear struck the swordsman on the ear and the swordsman sank to his knees.

Seh dropped the spear and dove forward, catching the swordsman’s throat in the crux of his elbow. Seh began to squeeze.

A moment later, the swordsman went limp.

Seh loosened his grip slightly, his arm still locked around the swordsman’s drooping head. Seh noticed the snake was shivering violently on his left bicep. Seh flashed a stern look at the archer and the spearman.

The archer raised his bow and drew his nocked arrow.

“Put your bow away,” Seh said. “Your friend’s sleep is only temporary. But if I feel threatened, I’ll snap his neck like a rotten tree limb.”

“Go ahead,” the archer replied. “That scoundrel is no friend of mine. His temper is far too short. Our camp would be better off without him.”

Seh blinked. He wasn’t expecting a response like that. He scanned the morning shadows for something that might help him get out of this situation. He knew he was no match for a man with a drawn bow. Not at that distance.

Next to the archer, the spearman glanced into the trees. The pit of Seh’s stomach began to tingle, and he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” It was Malao.

The archer glanced up. “Where did you come from?”

Malao began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” the archer asked.

Malao giggled harder and pointed at the man.

The archer’s face darkened. He aimed his bow at Malao. “Why you little mmmpf—”

The archer’s remaining words were shoved back into his mouth by Fu’s meaty hand. Seh watch as Fu stepped out of the shadows and snapped the archer’s head back far enough to throw the man off balance but not break his neck. The spearman’s eyes widened, and he backed toward the unconscious swordsman.