Commander Woo swallowed hard. “I—I left the goblet unattended for a few moments. Perhaps one of the monks slipped something into it while I was catching the snake.”
Ying took another step toward Commander Woo.
“Wait, sir,” Tonglong said hurriedly. “Not all was lost.” He reached into his wide red sash and pulled out a scroll. He handed it to Ying.
“What's this?” Ying asked.
“It's a dragon scroll,” Tonglong replied. “I found it in your tent. You must have left it there before going to the campfire last night.”
“Oh, really?” Ying said. “What were you doing in my tent without my permission?”
“Forgive me, sir,” Tonglong said. “I was only looking for clues.”
“Looking for clues?” Ying snapped. “Fu must have knocked something loose when he struck your head! How dare you enter my quarters uninvited? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear you apart right now?”
Tonglong leaned forward and whispered, “Because the men might view such action as excessive. There's a great risk of losing their respect.”
“Respect?” Ying raised an eagle-claw fist, then paused. He remembered what he had read in the first dragon scroll. He scowled. In a low voice he said, “What do you suggest we do, then, Tonglong?”
“We must shift our focus to the young monks,” Tonglong whispered. “Give the men a plan, and keep them thinking about only one thing—catching the boys.”
Ying relaxed his fist. “What plan?”
“I suggest you lead the men to the village and capture the boys. I'll go to Shaolin Temple, just in case.”
“Shaolin?” Ying said.
“Yes,” Tonglong replied. “Though I am almost certain the young monks will head back to the village, they may go to Shaolin instead. I want to prevent that from happening. If I take my horse, I should be able to arrive well before them. I'll patrol the surrounding area and cut them off before they make it to the temple.”
Ying ran his hand through his short black hair. “How will we communicate with you?”
Tonglong raised his voice slightly. “If you and the men stay at the village, I'll report to you there. In my opinion, the men could use a break. It might make sense to let them rest for a few weeks. Some fresh food and sleep would do them good.”
Ying glanced at two nearby soldiers. The men looked exhausted.
Ying turned to Tonglong. “Leave. I'll see you at the village.”
Tonglong turned and walked away. Ying frowned and looked at Captain Yue. “You were at the village. Why do you think the boys would return there? Aren't these the same villagers who captured Fu and took the scrolls from him?”
“Yes,” Captain Yue said. “But I believe the villagers have had a change of heart. There's also the Drunkard to consider—”
“Who?”
“There was a drunkard,” Captain Yue said. “He is a big, powerful man and an excellent fighter. He stood up for the boy called Fu. In fact, he's the one who injured my horse and caused it to fall on top of my leg. We shot him with a qiang, but he may have survived. If the boys are looking for allies, this man would be a strong one. Perhaps they went back to find him.”
Ying looked at Commander Woo. Commander Woo shrugged his shoulders. Ying spat.
Ying turned back to Captain Yue. “Tell me more about this Drunkard. What did he look like?”
Captain Yue began to fidget. “He had long, tangled hair and a scraggly beard. Also, his clothes were in tatters and he spoke with a deep, gravelly voice.”
Ying's eyebrows raised. “What did he fight like?”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Did his fighting techniques resemble the movements of a specific animal? Like a python, or perhaps a bear?”
“If I had to guess, I would say a tiger, sir,” Captain Yue replied. “Albeit a drunken one.”
Ying grinned and the grooves in his face deepened. “A tiger? You don't say. …”
“Wake up,” Fu said in a gruff voice. “We need to get moving.”
Malao opened his eyes and squinted in the morning sun. He looked around and scratched his head. He was high in the slender, sticky arms of a pine tree. This was not a tree he would normally climb, let alone sleep in.
Malao looked down at Fu and remembered what had happened the previous night. Fu had chased him up there!
“Come on, Malao,” Fu said. “I'm not going to hurt you. I promise.”
Malao hesitated. “You're not upset about the scrolls anymore? I thought you were going to kill me last night.”
“Yes, I'm upset about the scrolls,” Fu replied. “But it wasn't your fault. You didn't know how many scrolls there were. I probably should have told you there were four.”