My Writing

31 July, 2020

Jade Maiden 1.4

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[continuing chapter 1]

From the courtyard came the sound of battle, or at least a vigorous domestic dispute.  After several seconds of this a soldier bounced into the courtroom, blood streaming from his nose.  "Excellency!" he shouted.  "We've caught him!  We've brought him here for you!"  The man straightened himself, smiling as proudly as was possible given the red stream gushing from his nostrils.

"Out of my court!" Magistrate Li shouted.  "Clean yourself before you defile my—wait.  You've caught whom?"

"Chin Gwai, excellency!  We've captured Chin Gwai for you!"

Li smiled, and for a moment Wen saw a child's face.  "Bring him in," the magistrate said.  "But clean yourself up before you re-enter my court, or I'll have you flogged."  By the time the soldier had exited the room two servants were busily scrubbing at the blood spatters on the stone floor.  One of the servants, Wen noted, was a Copper Man, one of the natives of Fusang.  He was dressed in the Chinese style; no doubt he hoped to fully assimilate himself to the point of being granted citizenship.  And the right to starve as a Chinese rather than a native.

Chin Gwai entered the courtroom with a huge roar of defiance.  It was exactly as an infamous rebel leader ought to behave, and Wen was impressed in spite of himself.  Chin was a huge man, standing a good head taller than any of the guards.  The broadness of his shoulders was enhanced by the peculiar armor he wore, what looked like big plates of metal and silk braid.  Similar plates covered his chest and back, but from his upper thighs to the soles of his feet he was not only unarmored, he was evidently unclothed.  A long rope of black hair hung down his back, and he wore a headband of emerald green.  That made sense; the group he led called itself the Green Turban Movement.

"The notorious rebel, Chin Gwai," Magistrate Li said.  "At last we meet."

"Not for the last time, you fool!"  The clerk and courtroom guards flinched when Chin spoke (or, rather, shouted); Wen noted that the soldiers who'd brought the rebel had already accustomed themselves to the man's volume.  "No prison can hold me!"

"Oh, I don't think prison will be necessary."  That was interesting: Wen noted that Magistrate Li had actually made his own voice softer in response to Chin's bellowing.  A very effective response, thought Wen.  I'll remember that.

Then he realized what was happening, and thought, And I'll have the chance to use that trick too, because you, notorious rebel Chin Gwai, have given me the opportunity I needed.

"What are you doing?"

Wen resisted the temptation to turn and look.  He'd recognized Number One Grandfather's voice.  It was the sort of voice that didn't require much recognition.  "I'm getting ready to run for my life," he said quietly.  "Won't this oaf make the perfect distraction?"

"No."

"No?"

"No.  He'll make a distraction."  Number One Grandfather's translucent face suddenly appeared before Wen's eyes.  "To make a perfect distraction takes a bit of ancestor-work."

Number One Grandfather waited until Chin's next verbal explosion, then, as Chin strained at his bonds, the old man nodded his head.  Wen scrambled to his feet: the bonds restraining Chin's enormous arms suddenly became bright blue snakes that flew away from the straining arms and, landing on the floor, slithered away.  For a moment everyone in the courtroom stared at the snakes, then at Chin.  Nearly everyone: Wen slowly moved to one wall and began backing his way toward the door.  A check over his shoulder showed that there was still a soldier directly in front of the doorway; this was not good.  Some further distraction was required.

Evidently Number One Grandfather could read his thoughts.  As the soldiers rushed toward Chin the rebel sprang up—and continued to rise, so that the two soldiers closest to him collided with each other.  As the soldiers sank to the floor Chin dropped, bounced lightly from their helmeted heads and darted toward the dais on which Magistrate Li sat.  As he charged, Chin bellowed defiance—in the process, Wen noted, providing a detailed description of piratical and rebellious activity more comprehensive than any indictment—and Wen made a careful examination of the courtroom and its occupants.  The room itself wasn't all that promising, being little more than four bare walls and a stone floor.  No wall-hangings, just a few posters hung from the walls.  In the corner behind the dais, though, was a brazier whose charcoal fuel was still smoking a little; that showed promise.

As for the occupants, the soldiers all wore armor and carried swords or short spears; the guards likewise carried swords though they were unarmored.  Only a fool would try to attack them with his bare hands.  Well, a fool or a man with a supernatural source of Daoist magic operating on him.

Which means, Wen thought, that I have at best a few breaths before Number One Grandfather decides to send Chin Gwai flying through the air to assault the judge.  He'll probably make Chin go after the judge with his teeth, just for effect.

When Chin obligingly broke free of the two soldiers who'd been trying to grab hold of him, Wen was ready.  As the others in the courtroom shouted and tried to bring their weapons to readiness, Wen dashed to the native servant.  "Thank you," he said, grabbing the man's broom. 

A soldier thrust at Chin, who dodged; the spear-point wound up in the breast of a guard.  The other spear-carrying soldiers promptly dropped their spears and drew their swords; as they struggled to cut at Chin without hitting each other, Wen darted with the broom to the corner behind the dais. 

As the judge, crouched behind his desk, watched wide-eyed as Chin Gwai tossed soldiers as if they were small grain-sacks, Wen thrust the straw end of the broom into the brazier.  As the guards and soldiers piled onto Chin Gwai like large children playing an especially destructive game, Wen ran down the right side of the courtroom, bearing the flaming broom as if it were a banner and touching it to anything that looked flammable.


Neither the guards nor the soldiers seemed to notice him.  The courtroom spectators had long since either fled the fighting or moved closer to it.  Wen was sure he saw someone collecting coins, taking bets on the outcome.

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