He had no idea whether the joker had a weapon, but was certain that he would prevail as long as his opponent did not carry pistols. Seh heard metal unsheathed, and from the sound determined that the man possessed a broadsword of moderate length. No problem.
The joker continued his charge, and when Seh could hear the man’s intense breathing, he knew that his opponent was close enough.
Seh struck. He kept his left hand locked and thrust his right hand downward in a large half-circle. This caused the tip of the spear to rise up in an opposing half-circle, heading directly for the joker’s face. The joker chopped down at the spear tip with his broadsword, just as Seh expected he would, and the broadsword made contact with the spear tip, redirecting the spear tip down toward the ground.
As the spear tip continued its downward motion, Seh thrust it forward, accurately visualizing the spear passing between the man’s legs. Seh clamped the spear shaft in his armpit and rolled to one side, yanking the spear sideways. The spear shaft tangled the man’s legs, and he tripped hard and fell to the ground, face-first.
Seh dropped the spear and was about to slither onto the joker’s back for a choke hold when someone shouted, “Enough!”
Seh froze. He felt the air behind him begin to pulse with restrained aggression. He did not have to turn around to know that his father was approaching.
“Did you hurt him?” Mong asked as he stopped next to Seh.
Seh fixed his gaze in the general direction of his downed opponent. “How should I know?”
“Good point,” Mong said, slapping Seh on the shoulder. “Nice move, by the way.” Seh felt the aggression within his father begin to dissipate.
Seh nodded, and he heard the joker groan.
“He looks like he is going to be fine,” Mong said. “Listen, I realize that sometimes you need to make an example of someone, but next time please try to pick a younger man. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, and older individuals, like myself, take longer to heal. I fear we are going to need all the extra hands we can get very soon.”
“I will remember,” Seh said. “Have you received some news?”
“Yes. It is all speculation at this point, but we believe that Tonglong may attempt to amass an army.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you are going to have to train more men,” Mong said. “A lot more.”
ShaoShu sat obediently inside the door of Tonglong’s central command office on the outskirts of Shanghai. He was sitting absolutely still, trying not to be noticed. Across the room, Tonglong was in a furious mood, and it looked like things were about to get worse.
“Sign and seal it!” Tonglong ordered.
The Emperor folded his arms. “No.”
Tonglong slammed his fist against the heavy oak desk, scattering a series of scrolls. A bowl of ink tumbled over, and ShaoShu watched the black liquid seep into a large crack formed in the desktop by Tonglong’s powerful blow. That impact would have easily cracked bone.
“Sign it,” Tonglong said again, his voice as tight as an archer’s bow.
“I will not,” the Emperor replied indignantly. “You are asking me to grant you the freedom to forcibly recruit every male in the entire country between the ages of eight and fifty into your army. I cannot allow this. We are not at war.”
“You can, and you will,” Tonglong said. “Emperors have been conscripting people into military service for thousands of years, and not just for war. Do you not remember how the Great Wall was built?”
“In this case it is not justified.”
“The only justification you need is that I say it shall be so,” Tonglong said. “I will say this only one more time. Sign it.”
“I repeat: I will not. What can you do?”
Tonglong reached out with amazing speed and grabbed the Emperor’s left thumb. With a powerful yank, he wrenched the thumb in a complete circle. ShaoShu shuddered as the sound of crunching bone mixed with the Emperor’s startled scream.
Tonglong released his grip and growled, “There are at least two hundred more bones in your body. Would you like to pick the next one? Or should I?”
The Emperor struggled to regain his composure, tucking his mangled hand into his lap. In a shaky voice, he said, “I will sign it.”
“That’s a good puppet,” Tonglong said, dipping a writing brush into the spilled ink. He spread out one of the scattered scrolls, and the Emperor signed it.
“Now seal it,” Tonglong said.
The Emperor reached into the folds of the rough robe that he now wore in place of his fine silk garments, and he pulled out a small clay pendant hanging from a cord around his neck.