Tonglong's teeth ground loud enough for ShaoShu to hear. “What about the wars in the north?” Tonglong asked. “What about the new Emperor, the man I represent? His inauguration was the result of war.”
“We can't concern ourselves with everyone else's business. If we did, who would look after our interests? With all due respect, General, here in the south, one Emperor makes no difference over another. They keep to themselves in the north and leave us alone, and we send them tribute. Boatload upon boatload of tribute, I might add.”
“Are you saying that you have no need for an army here?”
“This is a peaceful region,” the commander said. “The only difficulties we have are a few pesky bandits by land and the occasional Round Eye pirate by sea.”
“Isn't it your duty to stop these Round Eyes?”
“Heavens, no!”
Tonglong's face began to turn a bright red. “Why not?”
The commander looked confused. “Because one of my men might get hurt, of course. No, no. We couldn't have that. What would their families say? We leave the barbarians be. Let them take a shipment here or there. It is a small price to pay for our well-being, don't you think?”
“Would you like to see what I think?” Tonglong asked.
“Nothing would please me more,” the commander replied.
ShaoShu watched as Tonglong drew his straight sword, throwing its ornate scabbard to the ground with unusual force. He gripped the sword's hilt with both hands and twisted his body powerfully from right to left, slicing across Commander Sow's midsection. The sword's blade appeared to have only grazed the commander, but to ShaoShu's dismay, the officer split completely in half. His torso and upper body toppled to one side, while his waist and everything below it fell to the other. Soldiers leaped backward as the air was filled with a shower of red rain.
ShaoShu turned away, shaking violently.
Tonglong glared at the group. “Does anyone here share this man's sentiments?”
Every soldier shook his head.
“Very well,” Tonglong said, wiping his blade across the fallen commander's chest. “I blame this buffoon and his absentee leader, HaiZhe, for your regiment's shortcomings. From this moment forward, you have a new commander.” He pointed to Lei.
Lei looked surprised, but he bowed respectfully. “At your service, sir!”
Tonglong eyed the soldiers. “Gentlemen, tonight you will go to sleep as commoners. Tomorrow you will wake as warriors. Your new leader is called Commander Lei—Thunder. Some of you might recognize him from the fight clubs. He is going to train you hard for the next several weeks in the repair, maintenance, and use of firearms, while I will drill you in all manner of what it means to be a soldier. No one is to leave this camp. Your next step outside these walls will be as a single fighting unit. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!” the men replied as one.
CHAPTER 11
Charles sat at the large table in the apothecary's secret storage room, contemplating his next move. They had arrived without incident, and he was certain no one would ever find him or the others inside this cleverly concealed location. Hok had previously used it as a hideout, and there was more than enough room for them, including Ying, WanSow, Fu, and Malao. How ever, Charles was concerned about his sloop. If Tonglong and his men had gotten a good look at it while they were at sea, they might be able to identify it. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
“So, what are you going to do?” Hok asked. “We would like you to remain with us, but I understand if you want to be with your friends.”
“I'm still not sure,” Charles said. “I—”
He was cut short by the seamless hidden door to the room swinging open on silent hinges. It was the apothecary owner, a gentle-looking man called LoBak. As near as Charles could tell, LoBak was a respectful way of saying “old man,” which was interesting, because the apothecary owner didn't look all that old. He did have thinning gray hair, though, and his wrinkled hands were badly stained a rainbow of colors from years of mixing and grinding medicinal herbs. He closed the door behind him and sat down at the table, handing WanSow a drinking bowl full of steaming liquid.
“What is that?” Hok asked.
“It is the brew I deliver to a local official each night to help him with his … condition. It will help her, too. It's a combination of nearly twenty herbs, but the primary ingredient is dragon bone.”
Ying's eyebrows raised and he looked at Hok. “Dragon bone? See, I told you it works.”
Hok shook her head. “It may very well work, but you are no longer ill, Ying. You take it because you think it makes you more like a dragon.”