[continuing chapter 2]
"The Green Turban Movement," said
Chin Gwai later that morning in his now-familiar deafening way, "is
dedicated to one thing above all else."
Making money, I hope, thought Wen.
"And that is the elimination of the false prince, Zhu Yizan and all
who support him." Damn, thought
Wen. Why couldn't I have been wrong
about Chin Gwai?
"The Ming have lost the Mandate of Heaven," Chin
continued; Wen could actually hear him pronouncing the capital letters. "They no longer serve the will of the
people of Fusang, and they are no longer acknowledged as the ruling dynasty in
the Middle Kingdom."
The day continued to be the same annoyingly perfect Fusang
day as the Jade Maiden made her
leisurely way up the coast north of Měijing, though for Wen Xia some of the
luster had been worn away from perfection.
Most of the crew were now at work doing the dozens of things required to
keep a ship functioning, but Wen was not among them. He would much have preferred to be spending
his morning watching the crew and learning from them; instead he formed fifty
percent of the latest class of new recruits to the Green Turbans, and was
listening to what Chin had called the manifesto of the movement but that seemed
much more like an indoctrination, or a lecture by a Confucian tutor. The other new recruit, a short, stocky farm
boy named Yu, picked his nose and appeared to absorbing only the occasional
word, in some random order that Wen was sure would lead to some interesting
answers later on, when the inevitable quiz happened.
Chin's eyes were glowing with the righteousness of his
cause, and Wen steeled himself for the climax he knew was coming. "Therefore it is incumbent upon us to
sweep away the wreckage of the old dynasty and replace it with the benevolent
rule of a proper emperor—one who has received the Mandate of Heaven and has the
best interests of the people at heart!"
Wen raised his hand, compelled even though he knew his
question was pointless. "What form
will this new government take?"
"Why, the proper form mandated by the Great Sage
himself," Chin said. "What a
silly question. Why weren't you paying
attention, Wen, the way Yu here was?"
In other words, Wen said to himself, you're going to replace
the current government with one that looks exactly like it, except that instead
of Prince Zhu Yizan we'll be oppressed by someone else with the same
ideas. Probably by you, Emperor Chin
Gwai, or whatever auspicious ruling name you give yourself. Loudly Pontificating Emperor, no doubt. "I was just checking," Wen
said. "It's always good to be
certain of things."
"You're right about that," Chin said. "And that brings me to the next phase of
your training." He turned and
pointed to the northwest. "Later
today we will be putting you ashore, and you will learn weapons-craft while we
attack our next target."
Not attacking? Wen
couldn't restrain his smile. But Yu, the
idiot, raised his hand. "Wen Xia
says we're supposed to be in the next attack," he said. "We get to help you fight, right?"
"What in the hells gave you that idea?" Chin
bellowed at Wen.
"Ah, you did?"
"Are you putting words into my mouth, Wen
Xia?" Chin marched up to them and
loomed, glaring down at him.
"This morning," said Wen, refusing to surrender
any ground. "The old Daoist with
the oracle bones."
Chin started for a moment, then recovered his
composure. "You saw that? I didn't notice you. Well, it's true that I was eager to have you
take part; I am absolutely correct in saying that the sooner you start fighting
the better a Green Turban you'll be.
But, well, after we'd dispersed Liang Sheng came back to me and
explained that my ancestors would withdraw their favor if I brought you with
me."
I'm happy for that, Wen thought, but would you always reduce
the size of your force if your ancestors—or that odd Daoist whose name is
evidently Liang Sheng—told you to?
"You get to fight, and we don't?" Yu was not giving up, damn him. "That will shame me in front of my own
ancestors, General Chin."
"My ancestors can go hang," Wen said quietly,
wondering if he had creaky Liang Sheng to thank for the fact that there had
been no ancestral appearances since he'd boarded the Jade Maiden.
"I appreciate your eagerness," Chin said. "Would that all my recruits felt that
way." He glared at Wen in a fashion
that suggested he'd never even come across the concept of subtlety. "But our society breaks down, Recruit
Yu, if we do not follow the proper hierarchy of respect. And while respect to the needs and wishes of
your parents and ancestors would normally be your primary duty, my own personal
duty of respect to my ancestors trumps your duty because I am your
superior. So you have to do what I
say."
"Or what your ancestors say." Wen kept his voice bland. "Through the tortoise shell and Liang
Sheng."
"Exactly right," Chin said, oblivious to Wen's
expression. "Liang Sheng hasn't
been with me much longer than you have, and he is already providing splendid
advice to me in my direction of the movement.
And just like Liang Sheng, you will make a fine Green Turban eventually,
Wen Xia. Didn't I say you were
clever?" Wen could do nothing more
than nod, slowly. "So instead of
including you in the company contrary to my ancestors' wishes, I am arranging
for you to move directly to the next stage in your training. Ahead of us, about ten li distant, is the island of Penglai. We will leave you two there for training in
sword, bow and spear: all members of my movement must be proficient in the
martial arts before they are entitled to the wearing of the green."
Penglai! Now Wen was
all attention. Let Yu complain about the
shame of being unable to fight if he wanted; Wen wanted to go to the legendary
island. A lot of interesting things
could happen on Penglai. "Will we
be learning those Daoist tricks you used in Magistrate Li's court
yesterday?" he asked.
Chin flushed. "No, you will not learn that particular art. You do not have to know more than the sword, the bow and the spear in order to follow my orders." In other words, you only know what Liang Sheng has taught you, and you haven't figured out yet that Number One Grandfather had more to do with your escape than Liang Sheng did. And either way, you don't want anyone else to know enough to be a possible threat to you, thought Wen. Fair enough; in your boots—well, your feet, I suppose—I wouldn't want to be training anyone who might take my job either.
Next Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2
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