Part III of Comes the Cold Dragon follows this note. It is brought to you
courtesy of www.sofaspud.org.
============================================
Most of the characters in this piece and the setting for it,
were conceived of by Rumiko Takahashi for her Ranma1/2 series
of Manga. All such characters and the setting are the
property of Takahashi-san and her licensees. All other
characters in the piece are purely fictional and any
resemblances to actual persons living or dead, are purely
coincidental.
------------------------------------------------------------
Comes the Cold Dragon: Part 3a Rewrite 1
-------------------------------------------------------------
The Nekohanten owned four bicycles, one for Mu Suu and three
for Xian Pu. Two of the four had been reduced to nothing more
than sources of spare parts for the bicycle Xian Pu preferred
to ride. This was no surprise given that Xian Pu could
easily put a hundred and sixty grueling kilometers on a
bicycle in a day, and that Ko Lon, did not believe in
overdoing capital expenditures. The two "spare" bikes were
picked clean long ago and Mu Suu had been raiding trash heaps
for parts, but on this busy Wednesday morning he simply did
not have the time to scrounge. He shook his head and stumped
back into the restaurant.
"Honored Elder?"
"What is it, Mu Suu?"
"We may have a problem with bicycles."
Ko Lon sighed. She knew all too well how hard Xian Pu
was on a bicycle.
"What now, Mu Suu?"
"Well, we have been out of spare parts for quite a
while now and I've been scrounging them up from trash heaps.
If Xian Pu has a breakdown today, I'll have to let her have
my bike."
And it won't hold up for more than half a day, Ko Lon
thought. Well, this day's been coming for a while, may as
well cure this problem while the cash flow is good.
"Say no more, Mu Suu. Go get the things on this list
before she comes limping back in here with that old wreck of
hers and takes your bicycle."
Mu Suu adjusted his glasses and read the list.
"You are going to make a bouillabaisse?" he asked
incredulously. "And bread?"
"A bouillabaisse and a brioche to be exact. Watch what
happens today and you will learn something important about
saving money and gaining allies. Now get going!"
"Okay!" Mu Suu said dubiously as he walked out to his
bicycle.
"When did she learn how to cook this stuff?" he asked
himself aloud as he straddled his bike. "Ko Lon is a
fountain of surprises. I'll just bet she speaks French on top
of everything else. I'll probably have to barter for some of
this stuff at that fancy French place. It isn't part of our
regular supply list."
Ko Lon returned to her work in the kitchen with only
half her mind on her cooking. She had slept very little
despite the fatigue brought on by the frenetic pace they had
held all day the day before. The brawl at Miyagi's place had
jarred her awake shortly after she lay down. She had merely
chuckled at the caterwauling of Tillie's boyfriend, then got
a real belly laugh out of Happosai's yodeling. No doubt,
whoever had gotten the best
of the old fart had been female and practiced an Art Ko Lon
had never studied--well, not enough to get that sort of
result, anyway.
The overpowering surge of ki in the wee hours of the
morning however, had been a completely different thing.
Clearly, the Saotome boy had been having a nightmare and was
completely out of control. She had almost forgotten to
breathe during the ordeal. The ancient records had warned of
this danger and others. Until a bearer of the gift learned
control, they were a danger to themselves and those around
them at night. One or two of those gifted this way had taken
to living in remote areas to avoid hurting others
inadvertently. This had not been so difficult a measure for
those in the past, but times had changed. This child lived in
a society with very different demands from those of the past.
He needed to finish his schooling and it was time for him to
choose a mate. Ko Lon had no doubt that Ranma would choose
whom he pleased, custom be damned. He was that sort of
person. As was true of many dragons, Ranma Saotome would be
self-made. Coming to Nerima and watching the lad chisel
himself out of his parent rock had been one of the most
entertaining experiences of Ko Lon's long life.
She needed a way to reach out to the boy. Some means
of getting past his mistrust of her and Xian Pu. Ko Lon had
already deduced that the sudden popularity of the
Nekohanten's cuisine was the doing of the middle Tendo
daughter. The gambling pool was a Nabiki trademark, but Ko
Lon doubted that Nabiki had taken it upon herself to initiate
such an action on her own. So long as Xian Pu was busy
working, or exhausted from working, she was unlikely to go
around picking fights with anyone. Which meant of course that
both Akane Tendo and Ukyo Kuonji would be safe from harm.
Nabiki might be the hand beating them down to their knees
with money, but it had to be Ranma Saotome that set her in
motion.
Ko Lon smiled as she found herself liking Nabiki. The
girl obviously had talent and intelligence. Ranma would never
have thought of using money as a distraction on his own. This
sudden spate of business had to have been Nabiki's idea. She
was as good an adversary as one could hope to have. It would
be time for them to talk soon, but not too soon. Ko Lon never
passed up a chance to make hay while the sun was out.
-----------
Jean-Luc Thibbideaux was not a cyclist, but his name
was known to every serious cyclist the world over. The
bicycles he built were the lightest, most rugged of any made.
His mountain bikes were legend; his racing bikes storied.
Only one other craftsman in all the world could come close to
rivaling him in the design and construction of bicycles, an
Italian fellow in Naples, who charged five times
Thibbideaux's highest price. The problem had been that
Thibbideaux had not been making the money he should have been
able to make in his native France. Being a very Frankish
Frenchman, Thibbideaux loathed the idea of going to the
United States or Canada as much or more than he did moving to
Germany. The only other country in Europe where he could find
both the materials and patient craft labor he needed to
construct his
bicycles was Italy. A profoundly finicky Frenchman such as
himself living in Naples? Come now! Let us not be absurd!
Besides, the tax situation in Italy was really no better than
it was in France. To be sure, the Italians had made an art of
cheating on taxes, but Thibbideaux was too ardent a socialist
to participate in such a practice. So it was that Jean-Luc
Thibbideaux, after many months of traveling the world and
agonizing over the positives and negatives, settled where no
other Frenchman had ever settled before. He opened a bicycle
shop on Forges Street in the Nerima district of Tokyo, Japan.
Here, he could work his usual four days per week, six
hours per day and still make enough money to build up a
decent savings account. This situation would have been
perfect, except that after six months of living in Japan, he
was beginning to think he might actually commit murder to
have a decent brioche. Worse, sticky rice was not exactly
his cup of tea. For that matter, he did not like tea too
terribly much, either. Certainly he did not care for the
bland, nearly tasteless green stuff the Japanese favored. He
reminded himself each and every day to overlook these nearly
fatal flaws in his temporarily adopted home. The rate at
which he was now making money would allow him to purchase
that little cottage somewhere along the Cote de Azure in
another ten years. Once he had a home paid for, he would
never need to touch another tool unless he just wanted to.
The advantages of Japan had resoundingly outweighed
its disadvantages. The materials he needed were easily
available here with few or no questions asked. In France, the
purchase of a two meter length of titanium tubing guaranteed
a visit from the police, even if he had filled out all the
paperwork properly. Here he had very few problems with the
local authorities, tax collectors and otherwise, not to
mention that the craftsman here were better than the best he
had been able to find back home. A Japanese craftsman would
willingly work on something until it was flawless, little or
no supervision required.
Oddly enough, very little of his business came from
Japan itself. The Japanese had a rather cavalier attitude
towards bicycles and would often throw one away simply
because it had a flat tire. The number of serious cyclists in
Japan was tiny and very few of them had budgets that allowed
them to purchase his goods and services. Curiously, over
fifty-percent of his business came from the United States and
Canada, the very places he considered so tainted with
commercial interests that he refused to grace their shores
with his presence. Another twenty-percent of his business
came from Great Britain, with the remainder going to any
number of odd out of the way places, including the two
mountain bikes he had recently shipped to some tiny village
in the far off Province of Qing Hai, China. The one
unsurprising thing about his business was that nearly sixty-
percent of his customers were French expatriates like
himself.
Sunrise on the Wednesday morning following Akane
Tendo's failed wedding found him in his shop, putting the
finishing touches on a mountain bike that he was almost
certain that he would not be shipping for another year or
more. The customer who had ordered it, an American, paid him
half the bicycle's price in the form of a cashier's check.
Since that time, however, he had been involved in a terrible
racing accident in the Cascades of Washington State. He
would, in all probability, be laid up in the hospital for a
year. Jean-Luc Thibbideaux loved bicycles almost as much as
dogs love trucks, loved bicycle sports and loved cyclists,
but he had no illusions about them. This American kid was
going to have the devil's own time ever paying off the other
half of what he owed. Still, a bicycle was a bicycle and they
were the medium of Jean-Luc's art. He took as much care with
this machine as he would have taken with any of his other
creations.
-----------
Nabiki loved the cellular telephone, and she hated
the cellular telephone. She loved them because they let her
get things done that would have otherwise been entirely too
inconvenient. She hated them because they tended to bother
her when she least needed or wanted to be bothered, like
during breakfast.
Bee-boop! Bee-boop!
"Tendo!"
"Forges Street deliveries were five-minutes early to
right on time. Now headed for the fish market," the voice on
the other end of the call said. He called this early only
because he had been told to, and knew his boss would not
consider his terse delivery of the facts as an offense. To
the contrary, she would very much appreciate it.
"Good."
Click!
Bee-boop! Bee-boop!
"Tendo!"
"Big trouble at Miyagi's last night. Panda in zoo.
Pervert in jail, charged with IE this time. Third party sent
to clinic. All others limped or flew home. Exact damages
unknown. Your father carried away by pull cart, destination
believed to be your house."
Click!
"Kasumi, have you seen Daddy this morning?"
"No. I think he and Uncle Saotome must have stayed
over somewhere. Neither of them came home last night."
"Meet me at the front door, Sis. I think I know where
Daddy is."
Nabiki got up and walked to the foyer and opened the
front door. Sure enough, her father was snoring away on the
front step. Someone had pinned a note to his gi. Nabiki took
the note and read it.
"Tendo Nabiki-san. Please visit me at your earliest
convenience today. We have a great deal to discuss. Yours,
Miyagi Jiro."
"Chikusho!"
"Nabiki!" Kasumi said, in a tone of reproval.
"They must have gotten into a brawl last night,
Kasumi. Miyagi pinned this note to Daddy's gi."
Kasumi took the note from Nabiki, then read it.
"Oh, my! You had best go by and have look at it on the
way to school."
" I will. Would you call the contractors for me and
have them meet me there?"
"Yes of course. Would you help me get Father into his
bed, please?"
Just as they had gotten the unconscious Soun Tendo
half-way down the hall to his room, Nabiki's red phone rang.
Bee-boop-boop!
"Tendo!"
"'Biki they had big trouble at Tofu's clinic last
night!"
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure. Some kind of explosion from the looks
of what they are showing on the television. The entire front
wall has been blown to bits. Wait a second...the fire captain
is saying something about a cryogenics leak."
"Anyone hurt?"
"They said one man is missing, but they aren't giving
out any names."
Nabiki fought down the panic rising in her throat.
"Okay. I'm going to be late getting to school this
morning. Tell Mr. Shimamura what has happened. He'll
understand and take care of the details. Set odds on panty
raids at 100 to 1. Be sure and tell all comers that Happosai
is in jail. Take all bets. Got it?"
"Hai, Oyabun! Big money day, neh?"
"Let's make it a really big, money day. Set odds at
500 to 1 and take all bets."
"All bets! At 500 to 1?"
"All bets. This is a fool and his money deal for
today. Long odds on all the usual Saotome stuff. Long odds on
all the Kuno and Akane stuff. Long odds on general weirdness.
Tomorrow might be different. Standard odds on Kodachi,
Shampoo and Ukyo, got it?"
"Ooh! A dull and profitable day!"
The betting pool tended to receive large numbers of
small bets when the odds were running in this direction. Days
like this often made them more money than the extremely
active ones. This of course, would be on top of Operation
Market Garden.
"That's about the size of it."
Click!
The two girls got Soun into bed quickly and
efficiently, having had much practice at it.
"Okay, Kasumi, here's the scoop. Happosai is in jail
for indecent exposure."
"Oh, my!" Kasumi said with a laugh.
"Uncle Saotome is in the zoo again."
"Oh! Ranma will be so pleased!" Kasumi exclaimed with
a smile. "And I can't wait to tell Auntie Nodoka."
"Miyagi's must have taken a pretty heavy beating, but
you know as much as I do about that."
"Yes."
"There has been a problem of some kind at the clinic."
"Oh, dear!"
"I don't know how bad it is yet, but would you have
Mr. Uchigawa meet me at the clinic instead of Miyagi's? Tell
him I will most likely have a cost plus job for him there.
Ask the other contractors to meet me at Miyagi's at nine.
I'll call Miyagi myself."
Uchigawa was by no means the lowest cost contractor
in Nerima, but he was the fastest and had the best
connections with the Nerima Inspection department. Things
went quickly when he worked on them, but you paid.
"What happened, Nabiki?"
"I'm not sure, but from what was reported on the
television this morning, I think Ranma must have knocked out
a wall of the clinic."
"Oh, my!"
"Don't say anything to Aunt Nodoka until after I've
had time to check it out. It may be nothing. You know how
these things get blown out of proportion."
"All right. You had best run along. I will finish with
father. Oh, is the television on the blink again?"
"Yeah, I guess that would be best."
"I will take care of it. Anything else?"
"That's all I can think of...Oh! Drop your cell phone
into your apron pocket. I may need to get a hold of you
fast."
"All right. I'll fetch it as soon as I have Father all
tucked in."
"Gotta run, Sis."
"Nabiki?"
"Yeah, Sis?"
"Be careful."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Stay calm."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Be nice to your sister and Ranma."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"Call me as soon as you know how everyone is."
"Yes, Kasumi."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Sis. Bye!"
"Bye, bye!"
-----------
In her flat above the only Okinomiyaki shop in
Nerima, Ukyo Kuonji watched the morning news and shook her
head in dismay.
"Would you look at that, Konatsu?" Ukyo asked her
ninja assistant. "Whatever on earth makes their parents think
those two can survive being married to one another?"
"It might have been something other than an argument,
Ukyo-sama," Konatsu said.
"Oh, come on, Konatsu! You know how they get along.
What else could have done that much damage to the building?
Akane probably knocked my poor Ran-chan right through the
front wall."
"I don't think she would hit him while he's so sick,
Ukyo-sama."
"Hmmph! Her problem is she doesn't know how to
appreciate a real man like Ran-chan. That's why she's gonna
lose him to me."
Konatsu shook his pretty head in dismay.
-----------
Uchigawa had seen the morning news and left
immediately after Kasumi called. He had brought one of his
own inspectors and an estimator with him. The fire captain
had let them through the barricade and they were already
crawling around the rubble, taking notes when Nabiki arrived.
"Good morning, Tendo-san!" the fire captain said to
Nabiki.
"Good morning, Captain-san!" Nabiki said back to him
with a smile. She had known him since childhood. All but
three of the firefighters were gone. All they were needed for
now was to direct traffic around the dangerously cold rubble
until it thawed out.
"We will be leaving soon. Uchigawa has a labor crew on
the way to clear the street."
"Thanks. Is this one billable?" As with many fire
departments all over the world, the Nerima Fire Brigade
billed property owners for calls stemming from their own
negligence. The fees charged only covered a fraction of their
real cost, but the idea was to encourage people to be safe.
"'Fraid so."
Nabiki suppressed a groan.
"Just a single alarm though."
"Oh, good," Nabiki said, sounding relieved. "What's
the report going to say?"
"I am calling it a small, cryogenics leak. I will
swear before all the Kami of Japan that it was corrected
while I stood here and watched."
"Thanks. What's a report that favorable going to cost
me?"
"Oh, no charge this time. We're talking about Doc
Tofu, here."
Nabiki breathed a sigh of relief.
"May I go have a look? I need to speak with Uchigawa-
san."
"Sure. Just be careful not to touch anything with you
bare skin. You might stick to it."
"It's still that cold?"
The fire captain looked grim and nodded. "Be very
careful."
As it happened, Uchigawa saw Nabiki and came to her,
saving her the trouble.
"Good morning, Tendo-san."
"Good morning, Uchigawa-san."
"It looks like about two-hundred thousand, right off
the top of my head. That's at cost plus five."
"Cost plus five?" Nabiki could not conceal her
surprise. Uchigawa ordinarily charged cost plus fifteen, and
rarely as low as cost plus ten.
"Well, it's for Doctor Tofu, you see."
"When can you finish?"
"Oh, mid-day Friday I think, provided we don't have a
lot of rain and the local inspectors show up on time. I'm
pretty sure they will."
"I don't suppose you are going to give me any breaks
on Miyagi's?"
"Are you kiddin'? I like Miyagi, but he's a pain in
the ass to work for."
"What if I keep him out of your hair?"
"Keep him out of my hair and I'll do the job at cost
plus ten. Believe it or not, that will cost you less than
having the job done on a fixed price contract."
"I'll let you know." Nabiki had no doubts that
Uchigawa was right. Miyagi always tried to squeeze more than
he should out of contractors, not realizing that Nabiki had
already squeezed them down as far as they could go. It led to
friction, delays and claims for extra work. "Meet me there at
ten or so?"
"Sure."
"Have you seen Doctor Tofu?"
"Oh, he's in the clinic. The cops brought his missing
patient back," Uchigawa said with a shudder, "The poor, ugly
schmuck tried to get on a local train wearing nothing but a
hospital gown and didn't have any money for fare."
Nabiki rolled her eyes.
"Wait'll you see the guy. Wanna bet me this one makes
the evening news?"
"Not until and unless I've seen the guy."
"Believe me, you don't want to look at him."
"Oh?"
"Word I get is that your old man used him for a
naginata last night."
Nabiki actually groaned out loud, which made Uchigawa
laugh.
"See you later, Uchigawa-san."
"You bet! Say, how about lunch?"
"I'll let you know. I suspect I won't have the time."
"Aw fooey!" Uchigawa said, mocking sharp
disappointment.
Nabiki gave him her best, "I'm flattered you think
I'm sexy smile," then let the matter drop by walking off
towards the clinic's back door. The truth of the matter was
there was only one face she really wanted to see and she
would not be able to carry on for the rest of the day until
she saw for herself that he was unhurt. Holding her pace to a
walk took nearly all the self-control she could muster. She
breathed a sigh of relief to find Ranma and Akane in the same
examination room as before, studying as though nothing all
that exciting had happened.
"Good morning, Nabiki-aneechan."
"Yo, Nabiki!"
"Hi, guys. So what happened last night?"
"It's sort of my fault," Akane said.
"I had a nightmare," Ranma said.
"I talked him into eating pizza for supper last
night," Akane said.
"Lots and lots of pizza," Ranma said.
"With everything but anchovies," Akane said.
"Including jalapenos and this ground, red-pepper
junk," Ranma said.
"So? What happened? You belched in the lobby and blew
the wall down?"
"Well no, not exactly," Ranma said.
"He lost control of his ki, Nabiki," Akane said.
"Lost control of his ki?"
"Yeah, I got to sleep walkin' and while I was in the
lobby I, uh, I sorta froze everything."
"Froze everything?"
"Yeah, it got pretty cold."
"And then you kicked the wall down?"
"No! I didn't kick nothin'! All I did was yell real
loud."
Ranma looked so shame-faced that it was all Nabiki
could do not to hug him in front of Akane, but she managed to
hide her feelings by laughing instead.
"Maybe we should find you another place to recuperate,
Ranma."
"I really am sorry about this, Nabiki. I'll find a way
to pay you back, I promise."
"Okay, Saotome," Nabiki said with a coolness she by no
means felt, "I'll put it on your tab. You're lucky, you know.
The contractor thinks well of Doctor Tofu. He's only going to
charge us two-hundred-thousand yen for this little job."
Ranma and Akane both stared in horror. Nabiki had to
suppress a laugh. She would never really demand that Ranma
pay for the damages. She was going to make Happosai pay for
it all. Not only was he primarily responsible, he could
afford it. Under ordinary circumstances the old man was very
elusive, seldom allowing her to gain advantage over him, but
today, well, today he was in very bad need of one Nabiki
Tendo. Only Nabiki could help him right now. Nabiki had
little doubt but what he would pay for nearly anything she
asked him to pay for, and pay willingly. Still, it did not
hurt to let Ranma know what his lack of control cost. Nabiki
had great faith in the carrot and stick system, especially
when it came to dealing with Martial Artists.
"Where's Doctor Tofu?"
"Down the hall with another patient," Akane said, "but
don't go in there. Wait for him to come back out."
"Yeah! Believe me, you don't wanna see the other
patient!" Ranma added. Both he and Akane visibly shuddered.
Akane looked as though she might become physically ill.
"Daddy must have done one heck of a job on the poor
jerk," Nabiki said.
"Daddy?" Akane asked, clearly alarmed.
Ranma's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs with
shock.
"Yeah, he picked a fight with Daddy over at Miyagi's
last night," Nabiki said. In truth, she had did not know that
this was the case yet, but the best defense was almost always
an aggressive offense, especially when the bay of legal
beagles could be heard off in the distance. With a little
luck and the right kind of pressure, the guy might even cough
up a contribution towards the damages at Miyagi's. The funny
thing about brawls at Miyagi's was how many men would come by
the payday after a brawl and give her money. It was a good
thing, too. The Tendo's very often needed it.
"Wow!" Ranma said.
"Daddy, did...that?" Akane said, staring off into the
distance.
"'Fraid so," Nabiki said cheerfully, "You guys got
anything ready to turn in at school?"
Much to Nabiki's schock and surprise, both of them
did. Ranma handed her a surprisingly large quantity of paper.
"I'll have a lot more ready by this afternoon," Ranma
said.
"So will I," Akane added.
"Okay, I'll send someone over to pick it up around
two, will that be okay?"
They nodded their assent.
"Good morning, Nabiki. How are you today?" Tofu asked
from right behind Nabiki, giving her something of a start.
Nabiki wondered if Tofu weren't really a ninja.
"Oh, I'm fine. I guess you could be having a better
day though, huh?"
"I suppose, but I chose to practice in Nerima because
it's never dull."
They stepped out into the hallway together and
strolled towards the cubbyhole Tofu used for an office.
"I have a contractor here already. They should have
everything cleaned up by ten this morning and he says he can
have everything good as new by noon Friday if it doesn't
rain."
"Nabiki! I haven't even called my insurance company
yet!"
"Don't call 'em. We'll take care of it."
"Are you sure? This is going to be expensive."
"We're the Tendo Clan, Doctor Tofu," Nabiki said with
a slight catch in her throat, as she gave a glance back
towards the room Ranma and Akane were in, "We take care of
our own."
"Oh?" Tofu asked, sounding a wee bit dubious.
"I am _not_ the monster I'm made out to be, Sensei."
"I figured as much. Anything else you'd like to talk
about?"
"No, not--not now. I've got to get out of here and get
to school. I just wanted to stop by and make sure things
were, ah, moving along."
"All right, but remember, I'm here if you need me."
"Thank you, Sensei," Nabiki said, "Gotta run!"
"Thanks, Nabiki!" Tofu called after her.
Nabiki turned but kept walking towards the back door,
"They'll probably want to replace all the tile in the lobby,
and may even want to replace all of the paneling. It will
save a lot of time searching for matching material."
"That's fine," Tofu said as he held the door for
Nabiki.
"Uchigawa-san will bring samples by later."
"Okay."
Tofu shook his head in wonder as Nabiki turned and
walked on down the street. He watched as she produced a
cellular telephone and began dialing numbers. Tofu sighed.
"Sooner or later I'll be treating her for stress
symptoms. Pity she's starting out so young," Tofu said aloud
to himself, "Poor kid has never had a childhood."
-----------
Far, far to the north and west of Nerima, Prince
Haabu, Heir to the Throne of the Musk Dynasty, sat in his
treasure room staring at an ancient statue of a dragon. It
had been made of drawn strands of copper that were then woven
into a frame that was soldered together with silver. Lapis
lazuli of the deepest blue had been cunningly carved and
polished to form the dragon's scales. Individual pieces of
quartz crystal, polished until they were perfectly
transparent, had been used to make its teeth and spines. The
statuette's eyes had been fashioned from amber. The entire
thing had been set upon a great block of oak which in turn
sat upon a flat, thin base of onyx. Carved into the oaken
base in a script so old that Haabu could not decipher it,
were the words "Danger! Do Not Touch." It was large for a
piece of statuary intended to be kept indoors, almost a half-
meter in height.
Last night it did something Prince Haabu had been told
it could and might do someday, but he never expected it to
do--it sang. Well, assuming of course you understood that the
word "sing" was here being used in the same manner as
"singing sword." It had been more of humming ring.
While it sang, two of the five toes on each of its
feet fell off. Dawn on this Wednesday morning found Prince
Haabu still sitting before the now silent dragon, staring at
it as he clinched in his left fist, the eight toes it had
shed. Somewhere in the Japan, a new dragon had been born.
Haabu was fairly sure he knew who the new dragon was. What he
needed to decide now was what, if anything, he should do
about this surprising development. The old writings indicated
that a great many things should be done, but Haabu mistrusted
much of what they said. Times had changed in ways that those
long-dead authors could not have anticipated. He did not
think that blindly following the edicts of tradition would
lead to the wisest of actions. As much as he hated to admit
it, he needed sound advice and there was only one place where
such advice would be available to him.
"Raima! Minto!"
"Yes, My Lord Haabu?" They chorused.
"You will remain here and guard this place with your
lives until I return."
"My, Lord!" Raima protested, "Surely you do not mean
to travel without us?"
"I must, friend Raima. This place must be carefully
guarded at all times, yet I find that I must go see someone."
"How long will you be gone, My Lord Haabu?" Raima
asked. He looked thoroughly upset.
"Only for two or three days, perhaps five at the very
most, but no matter how long I am gone, you two must stay
here and keep this place safe. Am I understood?"
His servants did not like their orders, but
understood them. Haabu was convinced that they would indeed
do their best to carry out those orders, but he also knew
that leaving the two to their own devices for too long
invited a great deal of trouble. He dared not tarry any
longer than he must.
-----------
High atop a nearby mountain, known in both Qing Hai
and Nerima as Hououzan (Phoenix Mountain), a very similar
occurrence had taken place at the same time. The dragon
statuette in possession of the Hououzanjin (People of Phoenix
Mountain) was exactly the same in its essential features as
the one belonging to the Musk Dynasty. The Hououzanjin
however, were at this time being governed by a committee of
elders because their sovereign, referred to by the
Hououzanjin as Lord Safuron, was still in the early stages of
regeneration, and therefore incapable of exerting leadership.
A committee is a truly peculiar life-form in that it
possesses six or more stomachs and no brain. The news
concerning the dragon in the Land of Wa upset the committee
terribly, rendering it even more brainless than usual. After
they played hot potato with the issue for twice as long as
honor and decorum demanded, they pitched the wretched subject
back into the lap of Lord Safuron's eldest advisor. No single
member wanted to address the subject, let alone mention the
prophecy that predicted such an event. His instructions were
to conduct a study, then report back to the committee.
The old advisor saw no need for conducting a study of
the matter, inasmuch as he had read everything in the
Hououzanjin's extensive library, including all ten-thousand
of its two-thousand, six-hundred year old clay tablets. He
planned to do exactly what he had already recommended the
committee do. He planned to confer with the Most Revered
Grandmother of the Joketsuzoku. After all, they already knew
everything the Hououzanjin could possibly hope to know about
such a situation, and if this information was insufficient
for the decision making process within the committee, then
another, well-respected source of information was required.
The problem was that the Hououzanjin and Joketsuzoku had not
been on friendly terms for almost a millennium now, and even
though the majority of those sitting on the committee saw the
wisdom of the old counselor's advice, none of them dared to
openly agree with him in anything remotely like a public
forum. Even though the ruling committee of the Hououzanjin
was a closed autocracy, and therefore not open to review by
the general public, it did have some twenty stomachs and no
brain, which meant that, as secretive as the committee tried
to be, it leaked like a sieve. The ancient scholar was
therefore given the authorization to "conduct a study," with
no specific instructions on how to conduct such a study, nor
was he burdened with restrictions upon the means or manner in
which said study was to be conducted. He took this as license
to confer with someone in possession of information or
sources of information which he did not already have at his
disposal.
Thus armed, the ancient counselor paid visit to on
Captain Kiima, late of the Hououzanjin imperial guard. She,
unlike most of her superiors, was capable of making a
decision under pressure. She did not always make good
decisions, in which case she made more than one decision in
quick succession, but she could and did make decisions
quickly. Believe it or not, this is a key trait of a good,
field officer. A quick decision, irrespective of its quality,
is very often the single difference between a glorious
victory and crushing defeat. Indecisiveness will almost
always result in a crushing defeat, so even a bad decision is
better than no decision, but try telling that to a creature
with twenty stomachs and less brain power than an inebriated
slug. Captain Kiima quickly decided to fill the ancient
scholar's request for four powerful but discrete guardsman to
bear him in his palanquin to unspecified places for a
duration of one week to two months. By noon Wednesday, he was
on his way to a remote little shack situated high up in the
end of a box canyon on the outskirts of Joketsu territory.
The shack was just a facade. It covered the mouth of a vast
cavern wherein the Joketsu safeguarded their library and
other treasures, such as their Most Revered Grandmother, with
whom the Chervil was so desperate to consult. He could expect
a gracious welcome despite the less than friendly
relationship currently extant between the Hououzanjin and
Joketsuzoku, because scholars flocked together despite their
differences in stripe or feather. He already knew what the
Most Revered Grandmother knew about dragons anyway. What he
needed to know from her was what sort of consensus had grown
among the Joketsuzoku, or what sort of consensus she was
trying to foster in the leadership of her people. They were
faced with a situation in which the two tribes desperately
needed to put aside ancient feuds so that they could
cooperate to mutual benefit. United they may or may not
manage to stand, but by remaining divided they were certain
to fall and would fall quite hard.
-----------
"Welcome, Lord Haabu! May I get you some tea?" the
Joketsu girl asked as soon as she saw who was standing at the
door. She showed no surprise.
"Just water, thank you. It has been a long walk,"
Haabu said. It had indeed been a long walk. He had skirted
around the bulk of Joketsu territory to reach this place.
"Of course, Lord Haabu. Please be seated. Most Revered
Grandmother will see you very soon."
"Thank you," Haabu said as he sat down. He wondered if
the old woman would insist upon speaking with him here, in
the tiny little house that hid the entrance to the Joketsu
Treasury. He had been but a small child the last time he had
visited the place. The girl brought him a glass of water. The
water was clear, cool and sweet, as only the water from a
mountain stream can taste. He emptied it greedily and the
girl refilled it from a pitcher. He drank half the second
glass without stopping and she refilled it yet again.
"That is enough," Haabu told the girl.
She bowed and left, leaving him with his thoughts.
They were not pleasant thoughts. Of his own people, only he
and two others remained alive. For almost two thousand years
his people had been a terrible force to be reckoned with.
They were still formidable but with so few of their previous
numbers left, it mattered little. The world had changed. They
would now change with it or become extinct. The change he was
contemplating however, would no doubt cause his honorable
ancestors to sputter with fury. Let them sputter, he thought,
I do what I must.
"Lord Haabu?"
"Yes?"
"Most Revered Grandmother is now available, and
requests the honor of your august presence."
"Very well," Haabu said as he rose to his feet.
"Follow me, please."
The girl led him to the back of tiny house where they
proceeded out the back door and into a small, beautifully
kept garden. Two incredibly powerful looking Joketsu women in
their thirties puttered about the place, looking for weeds to
pull. Few gardens looked as neat and as beautifully kept as
this one, but very few gardens had a couple of bored, Joketsu
guards walking about in them all day every day. Not a single
leaf was out of place. The rocks in the tiny stream had been
arranged and rearranged until the notes it made were perfect.
The place practically oozed patience and calm. Haabu knew
that it was a deadly sort of calm. The women who worked this
garden were formidable ki adepts and would have no qualms
about sacrificing tranquility to see their duties carried
out.
The girl led him to an outcrop of stone from the
canyon wall and motioned for him to stand next to her. As he
did so, she rang a tiny bell. Part of the cliff face swung
out just far enough for a person to enter. He followed the
girl inside. The entry way opened into a small chamber,
deliberately made small so as to serve as a choke point. He
was greeted by a half-dozen heavily armed Joketsu. None of
them were very friendly looking and all of them gave him hard
stares. He knew that they were reading his ki for hostile
intent. Haabu reminded himself not to bristle at their
effrontery. It was a necessary part of their job. What they
guarded here was not only irreplaceable, but might well prove
deadly for the whole of humanity should it get into the wrong
hands.
After several moments of inspection one of the guards
rang a tiny bell and the portcullis at the end of the entry
way began to rise with clanking and clatter of chains.
Obviously, the Joketsu had not elected to install
electrically driven winches. This made sense to him. What
might well have struck the uninitiated as a waste of labor
was actually a good security measure. The portcullis could
only be raised by someone inside who used their muscles. This
way there would be no electronic circuitry to short, nor
automated mechanisms to exploit. The only way in was by
approval or by treachery.
The vast cavern beyond the portcullis was well lit,
much better lit than it had been when he last visited the
place. A quick glance upwards told him that the Joketsu had
added quite a few fluorescent lights to the incandescent
lighting that had been in place before. Haabu wondered how
long it had taken the Joketsu men to work this subterranean
wonder. Even though the entire thing had been carved from
native rock, the walls, ceiling, and floor had been carefully
dressed smooth. The floor had been paved with fine marble and
polished until it shone like a mirror. The walls were painted
with glorious frescoes of men and women casting nets from
graceful lateen rigged ships floating upon beautiful blue
seas, or performing kata on sacred ground, or fighting bulls,
or simply dancing in gardens graced with exotic looking
flowers. The great pillars which supported the roof were
wider at the top than they were at the bottom. Each one had
been carefully dressed, then painted a lovely crimson color
which was different from the reds typically used in the rest
of China. The place was not a single, great chamber. Great
hallways led off in different directions with side passages
and many rooms both large and small. Numerous stair ways led
up and down to even more great hallways and rooms. It was
the reflection of an ancient past both glorious and tragic.
Haabu found himself wishing he could have visited this place
more often.
The treasury was crowded with women cleaning or
repairing things, then putting them back in their places of
storage. Several women were busily working at transcribing
ancient texts written on tablets of clay, or stone or bronze,
onto scrolls made of fine paper. Here there was treasure
enough to sate even the greediest of hearts, and knowledge
enough to employ an army of archeologists and scholars for a
century or more. Sadly, much of it was knowledge which must
be kept hidden for many years to come.
He followed his escort as they wound around and up
and down through the great labyrinth until Haabu was
thoroughly lost and they arrived at the audience chamber of
the Most Revered Grandmother. This room was surprisingly
intimate and informally arranged. It was equipped with
couches and a low table rather than chairs. The table was
made from an onyx not to be found anywhere on earth since the
destruction of their homeland. The couches had been carved
from the native rock and covered with cushions of local
manufacture, but the floor was covered by a rug, carefully
woven from dyed wool and of a middle-eastern design unknown
to the rest of the world. The lighting was soft, almost
natural, but this was because it was lit by lamps of a design
so ancient and so secret that only a handful of people knew
of their existence. Haabu remembered the room quite well,
having been here several times before as a child. None of it
was surprising to him, except that there was a man in the
room with the Most Revered Grandmother. A man almost as
ancient as she and a Hououzanjin. Haabu had never met the
man, but quickly deduced his identity. He could only be Count
Chervil, First Councilor to Lord Safuron.
"Welcome, Haabu!" Most Revered Grandmother said, "It
is good to see you again."
Haabu smiled inwardly to himself. Coming from anyone
else, especially a woman, such a greeting would have been
insolent, but the Most Revered Grandmother had never been a
respecter of titles or position, and at her age, everyone was
either a child or a potential student. She respected a person
strictly for their individual merits and nothing else.
"Greetings, Revered Grandmother. I am pleased to see
you again."
"Meet Count Chervil of the Hououzanjin."
"I am honored to meet you, Treasured Scholar," Haabu
said to the ancient old man.
"It brings me great pleasure to meet with you, Prince
Haabu."
"Tell me, Haabu of the Musk," Revered Grandmother said
in a loud voice, "Have you eaten today?"
This gave Haabu considerable pause. She had
interrupted the flow of his and Chervil's greetings.
Deliberately no doubt. The old woman had patience for strict
formalities only when it suited her. Again Haabu smiled
inwardly, remembering how his father had behaved as he had
gotten older. He would often use the excuse of a visitor to
eat something the doctor said he should avoid. No doubt,
Revered Grandmother was not above using the same ploy. The
truth was he was hungry, but he wondered if he should give
her an excuse to violate her doctor's orders. No doubt, Count
Chervil was himself on an "old person's" diet. Were it not
for Haabu's presence, Revered Grandmother's custodians would
have served them per doctor's orders. The old woman was
looking much more frail than she did when he had last seen
her. She probably would not live much longer no matter what
sort of diet she imposed upon herself.
"I have not eaten since noon yesterday, Revered
Grandmother."
"Hah!" the old woman hooted with joy, confirming
Haabu's suspicions. "Then we'll have a meal brought to us
while we chat."
"Tea, Haabu?"
"Yes, please."
"Count Chervil?"
"Thank you, yes."
One of Revered Grandmother's trusted attendants
appeared as if by magic and began serving tea.
"So, my young Prince, what brings you so far from
home?" Revered Grandmother asked as a sly smile played upon
her lips.
"A new dragon springs up in the Land of Wa," Haabu
answered coolly. Dragons begat dragons, but some dragons were
self-made, this was all part of ancient lore. Sometimes an
ordinary being of extraordinary spirit made itself into a
dragon. Sometimes it was a carp swimming up a swift running
rapid during the spring flood, other times it was a man
contending with terrible odds. This time the new dragon was a
man. A man with whom Prince Haabu was familiar.
"Do you know who or what this dragon springs from?"
Revered Grandmother asked.
"Yes. It is a man."
"A man?" Count Chervil asked.
"Yes. As it happens, I know this man. His name is
Ranma Saotome."
"You know the Saotome child?" Revered Grandmother
asked, feigning mild surprise.
"I have fought with him, Revered Grandmother. He is a
man to be respected."
"I see," both the older people said together. Both
understood at once that Haabu was admitting that he had been
defeated by Ranma Saotome, just as Haabu intended them to
understand.
"I suppose you know that he has fought with Lord
Safuron," Count Chervil said.
"Yes," Haabu said, again smiling inwardly. Leave it to
Ranma to run afoul of that one, he thought. "The fact has
been brought to my attention."
In truth, the matter would have been difficult to
ignore, given that Kenseizan was now little more than a hill,
just as Horaisan had been reduced to a pile of rubble in
Japan.
"So, you have come to tell us about this new dragon,
Prince Haabu?"
"I thought it a good excuse for more than one thing,
Revered Grandmother. Much has changed here in the Middle
Kingdom. The tried and true is no longer quite so effective
as it was in the past."
Both of the older people looked at him with respect
they had not shown him before. At that very moment, their
meal arrived. This gave Haabu time to carefully consider what
he would say next. The matter at hand was quite delicate, but
he suspected that Chervil's presence here at this particular
time meant that he was not alone in his assessments of their
plight, the plight of the entire region around Jusenkyo. He
was not at all sure that either of these old people would
approve of his plan. Whether they did or not, either or both
were likely to tell him something he needed to know. In any
case, what he had in mind would not have been possible had
Safuron been in a position to oppose it. As matters now
stood, the plan was still very unlikely to ever be completely
implemented, but without Safuron's opposition at least a
great part of it was possible.
"When the dragon speaks, yin and yang will mingle,"
Revered Grandmother said with a chuckle. The quote was quite
ancient but it had special meaning insofar as both Haabu and
Saotome were concerned. "So what is it you intend to try,
Prince Haabu?"
"The roast chicken looks delicious," Haabu said,
knowing his declaration would amuse the elderly woman. She
did indeed cackle. He said nothing more until he and they had
removed the edge from their hunger.
"My political situation is rather simple, compared to
that of many in our region," Haabu said. He paused to sip his
tea and see if this got a reaction. He was rewarded with a
pair of rueful smiles.
"This affords me a great deal of flexibility in many
respects. In large part, I am constrained only by the
disapproval of my honorable ancestors and certain possessions
which must either be carefully safeguarded, or utterly
destroyed."
Revered Grandmother and Count Chervil exchanged
significant glances.
"These possessions do not belong to me alone and I am
therefore loathe to see them destroyed."
"Are you going to request guards of the Joketsuzoku as
you did the last time you traveled?" Revered Grandmother
asked.
"No. I am afraid that would be too much of an
imposition, if not unwise. I am seeking a safe place to store
them until such time as I can retrieve them."
Haabu said nothing more and watched as the elderly
people's eyes widened with shock, then smiled to himself as
they began to turn blue. Neither of them seemed able to
breath.
"I could make inquiries about such a place, if you
like Prince Haabu," Revered Grandmother said with something
of a gasp. She was by that time in great need of air.
"That would be most kind of you, Revered Grandmother,"
Haabu said, granting her a genuine smile, "There is one other
thing I would ask of you if it is not too much an
inconvenience."
"Of...of course, Prince Haabu! Ask what you will."
"There are certain scrolls and tablets in my archives
which are either difficult to read, or in need of translation
to a more modern script. Would you know of someone who might
be capable of such a task?"
"I would consider it an honor to look into the matter
for you, Prince Haabu," the old woman said. She managed to
maintain a calm demeanor, but Haabu could see that she really
wanted to leap up off her couch and click her heels
together. Count Chervil looked as though he might faint from
the effort required to remain silent.
Haabu smiled at the ancient woman and said, "I am
most grateful, Revered Grandmother."
"The pleasure is all mine. I assure you, Prince
Haabu."
Haabu turned his attention to their repast and said
nothing more, knowing that the Revered Grandmother needed
time to think. She did not take long.
"Tell me, Prince Haabu, will you be traveling in the
Land of Wa sometime soon?"
"I may."
"Perhaps then you would do me the honor of traveling
with my envoy. I am sending him with a suitable escort to
Nerima, in the Land of Wa."
"Will you be sending this dispatch soon?"
"As soon as certain important arrangements can be
made, yes."
"I would be delighted to safeguard your envoy, Revered
Grandmother. It is the least I could do under the
circumstances."
Count Chervil had the air of a man whose tail
feathers had been set on fire, but refused to spoil his
urbanity by giving it any notice. This amused Haabu. He
understood quite well the import of the tentative agreement
he and the Revered Grandmother had just reached. Some among
the Hououzanjin would become quite upset. Others would be
delighted. Thank the kami and Saotome that Safuron had been
reduced to a mere child. Otherwise a war would break out
before he managed to return home. As things now stood, Haabu
could afford to wait a day or two and see what developed. War
among the three great tribes was the least likely of the
possible outcomes he had weighed. If everything went
perfectly, however unlikely that might be, then the three
tribes might well find themselves covered in something like
their original glory. All he could do at the moment, though,
was to exercise his patience. The matter was now in Revered
Grandmother's capable hands.
"Tell me, Prince Haabu," the old woman said between
sips of tea, "What do you think of the old prophecy?"
"My father taught me that prophecy is merely a
political tool, but a very treacherous one. It should only be
used after careful consideration," Haabu paused to take a
deep breath, "and then used only with the greatest of
caution."
This answer amused both of Haabu's older companions.
He was not surprised. His father was as superstitious as
anyone you would hope to meet and put great stock in the old
prophecies. Haabu had lost his enthusiasm for them early on.
His father's teachings in this respect consisted of bad
examples. Some of those examples had been very costly for the
Musk. Haabu had yet to forget the smell of cordite mixed with
smell of torn up dirt that had been soaked with blood and
urine. Even worse was the memory of PLA troops laughing at
the twitching and dying bodies of fallen Musk. His people had
learned a hard lesson about machine gun nests, interlocking
fields of fire and prophecy that day.
"You must be tired, my Lord Haabu," the old woman
said, "Would you like a bath and a place to sleep the night?"
"That is most gracious of you, Revered Grandmother."
The old woman waved at one of her assistants and the
girl led Prince Haabu away.
"Well, Paama, he shows great intelligence to be such a
stuffy young man."
"Yes, he is very intelligent," Revered Grandmother
said with a smile, "and a little too pompous."
"Do you think he is serious about enlisting the Musk
back into the service of the Joketsuzoku?"
"Only if certain conditions are met, Chervil," Revered
Grandmother said. "I am fairly sure that he has the same
thing in mind as we do. Remember, the reason the Musk went
their own way before is because we refused to listen to them
concerning matters of defense. No one who knows any history
has ever questioned the loyalty of the Musk, only their
perspective and wisdom."
"I still question their perspective on certain issues,
but I never doubted their judgement in matters of defense. We
relied too much upon our isolation. The Joketsu relied too
much upon politics and diplomacy. Now we are in a trap."
"The Musk have not done that much better, Chervil. Of
course, they may not have attempted to defy Beijing had we
listened so many years ago. They are not necessarily loyal to
us. They always considered themselves the Guardians of the
Knowledge first and defenders of the people second. They were
intended to be the last line of defense, remember?"
"So you think Prince Haabu has more than one purpose
for visiting the Land of Wa."
"Yes. I have it on good authority that the Saotome
child saved his life. He owes the child a life debt. Visiting
him at this time would make sense, especially if Haabu can
offer the child some help, but that will not be the sole
purpose of his visit."
"You believe he goes to choose a place to store the
archives."
"I am certain that he will and I agree with him. As
powerful as our warriors are, even if combined with those of
the Hououzanjin, we would never be able to hold out against
the PLA. Their numbers and their machines would eventually
conquer us. Not even Lord Safuron would be able to defeat
them in a pitched battle, and because we are constrained to
defend these archives, a pitched battle would be inevitable.
The archives must be moved."
"You know Paama, the People's Lumber Company is
already cutting the forests on the lower slopes of Mount
Phoenix. This action has alarmed many, but I have cautioned
our people against resistance. So far, they have agreed.
Fortunately, they tend towards timidity without Lord Safuron
to support them."
"You have seen what is happening here. Already a tenth
of our people have had their farms wrecked by mud slides or
flooded by silted streams. Beijing seems to think a hundred
yuan a month replaces a farm. It cannot go on. Will your
council object to your moving Hououzanjin archives?"
"Oh, there will be some protest to be sure, but
nothing I cannot handle. Moving the treasures and weapons
will be another matter altogether. I have contingency plans
for destroying the more potent items."
"The costs for relocating these archives to the Land
of Wa is going to be significant," Revered Grandmother said.
"I realize that, but you needn't worry. The mineral
wealth found in Mount Phoenix is considerable. A lack of
money will be the least of our worries. Inexplicable money
will be the problem."
"Agreed. Now then, Chervil, what of relocating your
people?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
"I am advocating it. Many think it is a good idea. A
few old hotheads want to stay here and fight, but I think
wisdom will prevail in the end. This place is not safe and
never will be again. Should war break out between Beijing and
the Western Barbarians this entire region will be reduced to
a bubbling sea of glass."
"Would they do that?" Count Chervil asked, sounding
horrified.
"The people I sent west to find out assure me that
they would. The peoples of China are almost too numerous for
them to fight in a conventional war. They will take no
chances with the toys Beijing has buried just to the east of
us. My preference would be to relocate the Joketsuzoku to the
Barbarian Gold Mountain, but they are watchful of their
borders and their government is intrusive when it comes to
taxation. Relocating all the Joketsuzoku and our archives to
that place unnoticed would be extremely difficult. The Land
of Wa is much closer and the Wa, for the first time in
centuries, are being a little more accommodating towards
foreigners."
"The Hououzanjin are very reluctant to settle
elsewhere, as you can well imagine. All but a tiny fraction
of our numbers would need to bathe at Jusenkyo first. No one
willingly gives up the ability to fly, Paama. I must confess,
I am deeply concerned for my people. I do not know what will
become of them."
"You must keep trying, Chervil. They cannot hold Mount
Phoenix by force, not even with Safuron's help could such a
thing be done. Once Beijing hears how unique your people are,
they will live out their days in a laboratory. Those fools in
Beijing will not consider your people to be human."
"I will do all that I can, Paama. What of this young
dragon? Is he descended from those of the Second Fleet?"
"I am not sure. Our people in the Land of Wa think so,
and we have found names in the archives that are quite
similar to his and also to that of the local girl with whom
he is affianced."
"He is betrothed to a local girl as well as one of
your own? It sounds as though that situation has become
rather complex."
"Yes, it has been, um, complicated, but the child's
gift provides us with an opportunity to resolve the matter."
"Be honest with me, Paama. You intend to dispatch your
token with Haabu, do you not?"
"Assuming I can work out a plan of action with the
Council of Elders, yes."
"Then I will return to Phoenix Mountain on the morrow.
We both have a great deal to accomplish."
"Have you chosen your successor, Chervil?"
"I have had four or five candidates in mind for
several decades now, but none of them really wants the
responsibility. That is why I think there would be little
trouble over moving our portion of the archives here. What
about you?"
"I have chosen mine. She is a very capable and honest
individual, but also very wise in the ways of people."
"Have you told her?"
"No. She almost certainly thinks she is destined to
become Senior of the Council. The arrival of my token will
change all of that."
"Oh, I see! You expect the full support of both her
friends and her rivals."
Revered Grandmother made no answer, other than to
smile.
"Then I gather you will be visiting the Land of Wa
soon."
"Yes, such a visit will be necessary."
"I should very much like to see you again before you
leave."
"I will let you know well in advance, Chervil. I am
sure we will have much to discuss prior to my departure."
Chervil had not said what was on his mind, but it was
easily read. He was blinking back tears.
"I should be very grateful for that, Paama. We have
not seen enough of one another over all these years." Chervil
paused to regain his control.
"It is late. Perhaps I should give these old bones of
mine a rest, Paama."
"I understand, Chervil. The days are too long and the
nights too short for me as well, nowadays. Good night, my old
friend."
"Sleep well, Paama."
An attendant came and escorted Count Chervil to his
quarters, leaving the Revered Grandmother of the Joketsuzoku
to her own thoughts and fatigue. So much to do. So very much
to do and so very little time. Revered Grandmother sighed.
All things must end, no matter their names, and my end is
near, she thought, let us hope I can do all that I must
before it comes.
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