Tiger - Jeff Stone [20]
Ying scowled and the creases in his face deepened. “Afraid of what?”
“We discovered something earlier. Something very disturbing.”
“Like what?” Ying asked.
“One of the bodies is missing,” Commander Woo said nervously. “One of the fallen monks. Actually, not just any monk—the Cangzhen Grandmaster.”
“WHAT?” Ying shouted.
“I know, sir,” Commander Woo replied. “It is hard to believe, but it's true. The men believe the body went in search of its head.”
“That's ridiculous,” Ying scoffed. “Headless corpses don't just get up and walk away.”
“That's exactly what I told the men! If you ask me, I think some other ghosts came along and took it.”
“WHAT?” Ying shouted again. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Sir, there is no other possible explanation,” Commander Woo said. “We have had at least two sentries at every gate since before you went down into the tunnel. Tonglong positioned the sentries himself before he left. No living creature could have possibly gotten in and then back out again without us noticing. It had to be spirits. Without a proper burial, the souls of all these men will become hungry ghosts here in our world instead of moving on to the next life. We must be respectful. Who knows what they might do?”
Ying shoved Commander Woo to the ground and stepped over him, straddling Woo's thick, stumpy body. Commander Woo normally feared no man, but he slammed his eyes closed when he saw Ying curl back his lips and stick out his forked tongue.
“Listen to me,” Ying hissed. “The men should fear me far more than any ghost. Tell them to stop digging immediately. They will ALL spend their time stripping the armor off the dead soldiers like I ordered. Then you and the men will build carts to transport it. It will take you a very long time to complete this task. You will bury no one.”
“But—”
“But what?” Ying said.
“There is something else, sir,” Commander Woo said, his eyes wide. “The men are convinced they are being watched. That is all they keep talking about. I believe them, too. I feel it myself. The men think that some of the dead have already become hungry ghosts, and that they are watching—waiting for us to go to sleep so that they can devour our souls.”
“Then tell the men to stay awake!” Ying shouted. “NOW GET TO WORK!”
Ying turned away, shaking his head. Superstitious fools, he thought. For a moment, Ying considered telling Commander Woo that he was right to believe something was watching because he felt it, too—and he was pretty sure he knew what it was. In the end, however, Ying decided against it. He didn't want his men to be any more distracted than they already were.
Fu tossed and turned on the chilly, damp ground, stuck somewhere between awake and asleep. Each time his mind sank below the waves of consciousness, the same three questions would arise and his brain would bob back to the surface.
Why did Ying do this?
Where are my brothers?
What should be done with the scrolls?
The questions were relentless. Nothing in his previous training had prepared him for this. He had always relied on instinct, reacting to outside forces. Never before had he battled forces within himself. And never before had he been in a position to choose his own path. Even though he hated it, a course had always been laid before him by Grandmaster. But Grandmaster was gone. Fu would have to forge a path of his own.
“Always remember, you represent Cangzhen.” That's what Grandmaster had said back at the temple during the attack. Fu knew that Cangzhen meant “hidden truth” and that Cangzhen's founders had once been wanderers like he was now. Wherever the founders traveled, they had been the defenders of Truth and the deliverers of Justice. Fu realized that he was obligated to do the same.
But where should I go? Fu wondered. What should I do next?
Fu pleaded to his ancestors for some kind of sign, and as his mind sank into the depths of unconsciousness one more time, he thought he heard an answer.
Somewhere