Tiger - Jeff Stone [11]
“So?” Malao said. “There are probably soldiers still here on the temple grounds. What else can we do?”
“Malao's right,” said Seh. “We have to take our chances over the grass, and then in the forest.”
“What does everyone else think?” Long asked the group.
“We should run for the trees,” Hok said softly. “And then separate as Grandmaster wished.”
“Brother Fu?” Long said.
“I think we should stay and fight!” Fu replied. “If we—”
“Sorry, Fu,” Long interrupted. “Fighting is not an option.”
“Fighting back is an option!” Fu roared.
“Keep your voice down, Fu!” Seh said. He turned toward Long. “Malao, Hok, and I say we should run for the trees. Three is a majority vote. That means we run.”
“And then separate,” Hok added quietly.
“Then it is decided,” Long said, nodding his head. “We must make haste. Goodbye, brothers. We shall meet again.”
Without another word, Long turned and ran like the wind across the open expanse. The others raced after him. Pumped full of adrenaline, they reached the tree line at more or less the same time. There were no soldiers there.
Without looking back, Malao, the “monkey,” let out a soft, high-pitched screech and took to the treetops. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Seh, the “snake,” slipped away through a patch of ferns, low to the ground. Hok, the “crane,” glided off into the wind, while Long, the “dragon,” seemed to disappear, like the mythical creatures were rumored to do.
Fu, the “tiger,” turned to run headlong into the forest, but his feet would not listen. It seemed they were connected to his heart, which was determined to stay and do something.
Fu spotted an enormous tree at the edge of the grassy expanse and clawed his way up as high as his weight would allow. Then he went out on a limb to evaluate the situation.
Back inside the smoke-filled practice hall, student and master stood toe to toe in a fight to the death. Though Ying was covered with battle stains, he had actually fought very little that night. He was young, rested, and extremely quick and strong. Grandmaster was unbelievably quick as well and normally had the strength of ten men. Tonight he alone had fought and defeated more than one hundred soldiers before sneaking back into the practice hall. But the fighting had taken its toll. Grandmaster was weak. He had no secret potions or ancient methods to regain his strength in the blink of an eye. Those things did not exist. He was just a man who had worked very hard and learned many skills in his lifetime.
Ying popped his knuckles one at a time.
“You know the real reason I've returned, don't you, old man?” Ying spat.
“From the look in your eyes, I can tell,” Grandmaster replied.
“I hate you!”
“I know.”
Fu lay on his stomach, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around a thick tree limb. He stared down at the Cangzhen compound. Every single building was burning. Fu strained his keen eyes, searching for movement in the smoky moonlight.
Way back in the far-left corner of the compound, small groups of soldiers walked from the weapons shed to the sleeping quarters. That's where they are, Fu thought. But what are they up to? There were weapons to steal in the shed, but there certainly wasn't anything worth taking in the sleeping quarters.
Then Fu remembered the secret escape tunnel. It stretched underground from the sleeping quarters to beyond the back wall of the compound. It was rigged with numerous traps to stop an enemy from trying to sneak through it. Ying must have disabled the devices. He was one of the few people who knew how. Fu could picture Ying disarming the crossbows armed with poison arrows and unhooking the swinging pendulum blades as his men followed.
Fu growled. He decided that if he couldn't defeat Ying directly, he would hurt him indirectly. Since the soldiers appeared to be leaving through the tunnel, they probably already had the dragon scrolls. Fu decided to retrieve them, no matter what the cost.
Fu leaped down from the tree limb and landed in a silent roll at the forest's edge. Then he ran low to the ground