Snake (Five Ancestors #3)(16)
Author: Jeff Stone

Ying spat on one of the compound walls and trudged into Grandmaster’s residence. Early-morning light poured in through several charred holes in the roof, illuminating a single large room with a small bed and a medium-sized table. A few of the walls were blackened, but for the most part the flames hadn’t damaged much. Not even the straight sword. Ying saw it hanging on the wall in its scabbard, tip down—a sign of respect for the sword.

Though the scabbard was charred, Ying recognized it immediately. He snatched it off the wall and drew the sword. The blade was covered with an ornate pattern of intertwining dragons. It was without question Grandmaster’s. Grandmaster apparently hadn’t had time to retrieve it during the attack.

Ying hissed and threw the sword against the wall with all his might. He grabbed the wooden scabbard with both hands spread wide and broke it over his knee. Ying threw the halves down and looked at the sword. The handle was worn, but the blade was in pristine condition. It glimmered majestically in a pool of light on the floor.

It was said that all great swords have souls. Grandmaster’s sword looked like a great sword. If it were, Ying would have to kill it. He picked up the sword again. This time, it spoke to him.

Ying’s mind flooded with images of both Grandmaster and his father. Happy images as well as sad. Images of both men in life and in death. As he held the sword, Ying was reminded that his father had not fallen to it, but had instead fallen to Grandmaster’s dragon fist. But to Ying, it didn’t matter. His father had fallen to Grandmaster, and this sword was Grandmaster’s—therefore, the sword must be erased from memory just like Grandmaster.

The sword continued to call out to Ying, but he closed his mind to it. He knew what was happening. All the finest swords were made with a special, secret ingredient that gave them not only superior strength, but also a soul. They were forged with blood. The sword maker would slice his arm and cool the blade with his very essence, breathing life into his creation by bonding his own elements with the minerals in the metal. If Grandmaster’s ancestors had forged this sword, it was as much a part of Grandmaster’s family as any of his human relatives. The sword, like the rest of Grandmaster’s relatives, must die.

Ying carried the sword outside and hurled it onto a section of roof that had survived the flames. Exposed to the elements and out of sight from the ground, the sword would wither and decay like a forgotten man on a mountaintop.

Ying stared at Grandmaster’s former residence and raised a fist to the heavens. “I will erase your past like you tried to erase mine, old man! And once I retrieve the dragon scrolls, all of China will know my name! Saulong—Vengeful Dragon!”

Your name is Dog?” Seh said, staring at the strange man with the big nose and peculiar floppy ears.

Sniff, sniff. “You bet,” Gao replied. “The one and only dog-style master ever to come out of Cangzhen!” Gao dropped back down onto all fours and pretended to chase his tail.

Malao giggled and scurried down the tree. Fu climbed off the archer and glared at the spearman, who was still standing beside the unconscious swordsman.

Malao ran over to Seh, and Fu joined them. Gao sat up. Gao glanced at the other bandits and shook his head. “What a pathetic bunch.” He leaned his nose toward one of Malao’s tiny footprints. Sniff, sniff, sniff. “Wow, those are some interesting feet you’ve got there, my friend. You must be Malao.”

“Yes!” Malao said. “How did you know?”

“You’re famous,” Gao said. Sniff, sniff. “You defeated Hung. He’s Mong’s right-hand man, you know. That’s no small task, little one, if you’ll pardon my pun.” He grinned.

Malao laughed. “You’re hilarious!”

Sniff. “You think that’s funny?” Gao said. “Watch this.” He sat back on his haunches and raised one leg all the way up behind one droopy ear. He began to scratch his head with his foot. “Ahhhhh …”

Malao laughed and clapped.

Fu rolled his eyes.

Seh watched as Gao rolled over and bounded toward them on all fours. Fu growled, and Seh saw the newly sprouted hairs on the back of Fu’s neck stand straight up.

Gao stopped. “What’s wrong, my feline friend?” Sniff, sniff.

Fu growled again, and Seh placed a hand on Fu’s shoulder. “He’s just cautious around strangers,” Seh said to Gao. “I am, too.”

Sniff, sniff. “I can’t blame you, especially after what you’ve been through,” Gao said. “I’m really sorry about what happened to Cangzhen.”

Seh nodded.

“You’re safe now,” Gao said. “Mong has been waiting for you. You’ll be among friends. Brothers, even. Me, Mong, Hung, and NgGung all grew up at Cangzhen, just like you.” Sniff, sniff.