Breaking Bamboo by Tim Murgatroyd Page B

one to make the dull hours sat in the stern pass more quickly.
    Yet the trip was not entirely lacking in satisfaction.
    Once safely within the Empire, Chen Song announced Guang’s true position as heroic saviour of Lord Yun and single-handed slayer of a dozen Mongols. After that he was treated with awe by the troupe of actors. The prettiest of the dancers even felt obliged to share her favours. But as Guang returned from a tryst with her in the bushes when their boat paused to gather firewood, he caught Father glaring at him with such strange intensity that he avoided the old man’s eye all that day.
    On the Han they made swift progress. It was a merry party, despite the risk of pirates. The boatmen, unaccustomed to so much cash , spent it freely on wine. Only Chen Song stayed sober. Donning his official uniform, he composed a long memorandum describing the Mongol deployments which he read to Guang, who listened attentively. By now he had gained stewardship of a fair portion of the scholar’s ready money in the form of an honourable loan. At a tailor’s shop in a waterside town Lord Yun insisted on purchasing a suit of gaudy silks that emptied Guang’s purse, while his son chose plain but respectable clothes for himself.
    A few days before they reached the Twin Cities, the actors’ boat was forced to find a mooring for the river ahead was full.
    A fleet of paddle-boats and oar-propelled war junks laboured in formation up the rain-quickened Han, bound for the borders. There were swift destroyers and huge, many-storied floating castles, accompanied by darting dragon boats.
    Guang watched silently as ships laden with crossbowmen and warriors passed slowly, their fine flags drooping in the humid air. Officers in full armour strode the painted decks and the fleet advanced to a steady drumbeat. Its potential filled Guang’s imagination. He paced up and down the shore until the fleet passed.
    ‘A powerful force,’ remarked Chen Song.
    ‘I should be with them!’ cried Guang. ‘I could direct our new weapons so the enemy fled back to their miserable steppes!’
    Chen Song nodded.
    ‘Yesterday I consulted the Book of Changes concerning your future,’ he said. ‘I saw fire. Rest assured your time will come.’
    Later they heard rumours that a great land army had marched west from the Twin Cities of Nancheng and Fouzhou.
    Their spirit was said to be overwhelming, their commanders uncommonly resolute. Guang took the news badly. He returned to the boat and found Lord Yun drunk before an audience of actors, who had also been drinking heavily. The old man, shaking as he spoke, was describing how he cut his way out of Whale Rock Monastery.
    ‘The first one I chopped like this!’
    Lord Yun slashed at the air and the actors cheered.
    ‘The second fell like this!’
    The actresses squealed behind their fans.
    ‘The third was a tougher fellow, oh yes, but I knew what was good for him, so I took my sword. . .’
    One of the actors leapt up and chopped at the air until his arms were tangled in a knot. His audience clapped appreciatively. Father looked from face to face, his mouth trembling.
    Gradually they became aware Guang was staring at them.
    The actor who had mocked Lord Yun scratched his arms awkwardly, ashamed and afraid. Guang strode forward. For a moment he paused, his hand raised, then he slapped the actor so hard across the face that he fell overboard with a splash.
    Guang glared at the others while the boatmen fished out the drowning man.
    ‘Never annoy Lord Yun again,’ he said, quietly. ‘You are common filth. He is noble.’
    He took Father’s arm and deposited him next to Chen Song.
    Tears clouded his eyes. The old man was muttering wildly again and Guang cringed inwardly as he caught the word ‘fish-es’.
    ‘Lord Yun will be my constant companion for the rest of the journey,’ declared Chen Song. ‘It would be the greatest honour for me. I beg you to allow it.’
    Guang wondered at this kind friend who