Heibai and Huckleberry

  “Don’t laugh,” Hei Bai told him, and Owl nodded, silently. “I met this girl…”

  Owl groaned. “Is that all? Hei Bai, you act like it’s this life or death secret. Come on!”

  It was pretty important to him, for reasons he hadn’t quite worked out for himself, just yet. Hei Bai made himself laugh, a forced chuckle that did not go unnoticed at the table. The other boys stared at him for a moment, and then went back to talking and joking.

  “No, not life or death,” he said to himself.

  ***

  They pried Melody away from ‘her’ giant, and got her seated with the wedding party. She behaved herself, for she was an obedient girl, when she remembered to be. About things that did not interest her, she had the attention span of, well, a mouse.

  The young adults and teens of the rest of the wedding party were excited, talking about things said and done, wedding flubs and such. Melody excused herself from her place at the table, and went to use the bathroom. Huck saw her go, and went to join her.

  “You okay, munchkin?”

  “Yeah.” Melody said, and went over to the wash basin in front of the mirrors. There was plumbing and running water from a gravity-fed tank, and a smaller, hot water one, too. She and her father had been fascinated with the system, and been shown it yesterday by a bemused servant. It was a luxury for the ranch-folk, and their parents planned to duplicate the system, back home.

  “Not having fun?’

  “I’m okay. It’s not anyone’s fault, and the wedding itself was fun. You know what mama says, about the good, with the bad? This is just...” She sighed.

  Huck eyed her little sister. She’d had a question to ask, but this seemed to be more important.

  “There’s something else?’

  “Le homme géant, Renshan Jules,” Melody began, and giggled. “He said that the river dragon in the pond is a great mathematician. And I can’t talk to him!” Meaning she could understand his language, of course. Her frustration would have seemed childish, in any other child, but Huck did not laugh. Melody rarely encountered real difficulty. She was a peculiar child, a prodigy. Instead of obstacles, challenges were opportunities for her to shine.

  “You’ll think of something,” Huck said, and immediately regretted doing so. Not her fault! She thought. Then she remembered what she had wanted to ask.

  “Melody, what does Hei Bai mean?”

  ***

  Jules circulated. He’d had a bite in the kitchen, while talking with the old woman who bossed it, and one of the maids. The regular staff was reinforced with borrowed help from other households, and by kin hired on short-term, and he asked after them in a manner that did not attract attention to itself, although the young maid, who also did the books and was her Lady’s secretary, gave him a shrewd look when he stood to leave. “Good hunting, Jules.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Miss Lois.”

  In the hall where the wedding dinner was being held, there was a corner for the Old Men, the cronies of En Lai’s Father, who passed, joined his ancestors, as they said, on this world, Last spring. The old General had made it to the 50th anniversary, and died a few weeks after. A number of the Old People had, as well, and it had been a very sobering month for Jules. He was now among the youngest of that generation, still alive. Hard to say how many years he had left; not as many as he once had, that was one answer.

  He remembered one cold Novembers’ dawn, on Earth, in the burned wreck of a city. Plus another dawn, on a world fifty light years from here, cold and wet, as he crawled through the muck and gore of a trench. Followed by a clear summers’ pre-dawn darkness, with alien stars over head which he had since learned by heart, and the cry of a new-born. Not his daughter, except that she was, in every way that truly mattered. These moments had led him, step by step, to this one.

  One skinny old soldier, speaking in a too-loud voice, was saying, “So I put five silver down in it!”

  “They really had a betting line on the wedding?”

  “Male issue, female issue, month and day, and somebody put down a hundred grams of gold on it not lasting one day!”

  They stirred, uncomfortable with such talk, at the a-fore mentioned event. One of them, a one eyed old Pathfinder, noticed Jules, and tried to shush the loud one. That one looked around, and saw what the others, by now, had noticed.

  “Evening, Master Sergeant,” He said innocently. “A dame fine Wedding,” he added.

  Jules pulled out a bag, which jingled when he hefted it. “That it is, Corporal Hardesty. That it is. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind running an errand for me?”

  “Sure Sarge!” he said brightly. Don’t never volunteer, but don’t never drag your feet about being volunteered, neither, he was thinking. “Just as long as it don’t involve cutting throats. I’d have to charge ya.”

  “I’m very interested, in that betting line. Dongma?”

  “Signal received, five by five.”

  “Then go spread some of this around.” He handed the bag over, and looked around the table. “Might need some help, carrying it.”

  They stood, and one of them said, “Finding friends to help carry money ain’t hard. Finding friends to help carry trouble, when you got too much… That’s something you can’t buy in a store, no way, no how.” They chuckled, and found their way out into the night.

  The private agent that En Lai had hired for security ghosted up by Jules’ elbow. “Would that be you own money? And, are you going to be reimbursed for it?”

  “Consider it… a wedding gift.”

  “Wedding gifts go over there, on the table. I know, I get to inspect them for bombs and poisoned needles.” The agents’ teeth gleamed.

  “You’re not happy with our arrangement?’

  “What’s not to be happy about? I’ve got an extra set of eyes and ears, although, between you, me and the wall, you’ve taught me more trade craft in the past three days, than my old partner did in any given year since he hired me off the street.”

  “I heard that he caught you burglarizing his office.”

  “That window was over the street,” the man said, and they laughed.

  “Which of you should I be asking about the safety of my guests?” Jules and the private agent turned to En Lai, who had walked up behind them. Jules put his hands together, and bowed, but the agent merely put two fingers to his forehead in a salute. “Sir,” he murmured.

  En Lai nodded to Jules. “Another one of your partisans,” he stated. The agent colored.

  “You pay me. If you don’t like my work, you have a remedy.”

  “I am tempted, but no. I don’t have to like them, but your methods work. I won’t mess with success.” En Lai looked from the agent to Jules.

  Someone began to sing, and the three of them looked to where Bruce Clinkenbeard was serenading his wife.

  “Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you, if you’re young at heart…”

  “Be about your business, and I’ll see to mine. Do not fail.” En Lai walked towards his wife, who was smiling and talking with Melody. They both saw Jules, and waved at him.

  “Oh, he’s a prince, ain’t he?”

  “He’s the king-maker, and empire-builder, actually. The prince, in this case, is much more charming.” Jules sighed, looking from Bruce to Hei Bai.

  ***

  Junior fumed, and got up from his place at the table. That damn fool was singing to her, and it was just too much, in a day filled with things he could hardly stand. He went outside, and Larry Boyle followed him.

  “You gonna fold on us, or you gonna pull it together?” Larry asked.

  “You’ll get paid,” Junior snapped.

  “I reckon that I will. Don’t mean you won’t screw something up, but I intend to see this through.”

  “Think this is easy for me?”

  “I think you should have thought this bitch through… but you didn’t. So now it’s my problem, and I’ll deal with it.”

  Junior said nothing.
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  “Why don’t you see to the horses?” Larry said. “I’ll send Luke with you-“

  “I can handle it!”

  “Maybe you can, and maybe you can’t.” Larry stared at him, until Junior looked away. “I’ll send Luke along, directly.”

  He went back to his table, and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, leaning down to speak in his ear. Luke nodded, and stood, then turned back.

  “What’ll I say,” He said, quietly,” If someone should ask?”

  “I don’t know,” Larry said, irritably. “Make something up! No. Tell ‘em the Best Man is setting up a moon light ride, for the wedding party.”

  “Good ‘un, Larry.” Luke was just a little slow, and admired his clever younger brother.

  “That’s why they pays me,” Larry drawled.

  ***

  Hei Bai watched Junior go, and later noted how one of the Wallace ranch hands went the same way. When Jules followed him, Hei Bai decided to join the parade. He was slowed up by the traffic, and got as far as the door to the front hallway, when a woman screamed. He spun around to see that cowboys had entered from the kitchen and the back stairs hallway, carrying shotguns. There was a click behind him, and Hei Bai spun around again, to find a revolver pointed lazily at his head. He kept his face blank and looked up at the man calmly.

  “Do not harm our guests. I imagine my father could make it worth your while to simply leave, now, and nothing more will come of it.”

  “Well, ain’t you something, little prince,” The man said, smiling. “Might be we’ll take you up on that.” He straightened and pointed with the gun. “Get yourself back over there, with the rest of the young ’uns.”

  En Lai was staring their way, and now smiled at his son. Hei Bai’s heart filled with a fierce joy. His father had seen what he’d done, and he was proud. En Lai went to face the man with the revolver.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  They were interrupted as the private agent staggered into the room, holding his belly. The gunman turned and shot him in the throat. The agent fell to the floor. As he gurgled out his last, the killer raised his voice to address the crowd. He had their attention.

  “My name is Lawrence Boyle. I can spell that, if you like. Shortly, we will collect your valuables and money, and then we will be on our way. With hostages, just so’s nobody gets any ideas about heroics…” Larry’s eyes were slitted lazily, and he seemed to be enjoying himself.

  ***

  The bad men went about their business, separating people from their valuables. The money and jewelry went into bags, and the hostages were guarded in a huddle, off in one strangely empty corner.

  “Weren’t there a bunch of old men, over here?” Larry asked, to nobody in particular.

  “I sent them to check on something,” Jules answered, shoving Junior ahead of him, into the room. They both were bloody. Mei Zhen cried out, putting her hands to her mouth. Her maid edged close to her and looked stricken.

  “It’s alright,” He said to them. “Most of this isn’t mine.” He stopped to consider that perhaps that should have been his motto. He’d spilled a lot of blood, over the years.

  “You do know how to make an entrance,” Larry breathed. He scowled at Junior, and demanded, “Where’s my brother?”

  Junior spit, worked something around with his tongue, and spit again, half a tooth, this time. He hung his head.

  “Wasn’t too spry,” Jules volunteered, “But Doc Wong is seeing to him, and I shouldn’t be too surprised if he lives to hang.”

  Larry raised the revolver and aimed it. Jules shoved Junior, who tripped and fell to his knees. They stood there, and the room got very quiet, again.

  “I suppose, if I was smart, I ought to kill you now, but I won’t,” Larry said.

  “Let the boy go, and I’ll let you live.”

  Larry laughed. “Now I see where he gets his spunk, that little prince.” He shook his head, and went on, soberly. “That’s the sin of vanity, pride. What do you call it, hubris?”

  It was very quiet, in that room.

  “Who are you?”

  “Jules Le Croix.”

  “Hell, I heard you was dead.” Larry smiled, again, and looked around at his audience. “Oh, I know that you wasn’t, but I heard it, many a time. I’ve always wanted to say it, too. I have looked forward to meeting you.”

  “Not afraid of me, boy?”

  “Oh, I know I ought to be. But I ain’t.” He put his thumb and forefinger to his forehead, as if to tip his hat. “I know it, up here. I’ve heard all the stories. Everybody, up in the north country, has heard the stories. Folks down-river don’t talk about them, as much.”

  “I aim to measure myself against the likes of you. Dongma?”

  “I understand,” Jules said, slowly, looking to Hei Bai. “You want to kill me.”

  “I honestly don’t. I mean to best you, and if that ‘s what it takes, so be it.”

  “This is a lot of talking,” Junior began to say, and shut up at look from Larry.

  “So it is,” Larry said, coldly, and then he sighed. He reached for his other gun, pulled it and flipped it around in his hand, to present it, butt first. “That’s a loan, seeing as how you’ve done lost yours.”

  Junior stood up, but stumbled. Bruce caught him by the arm and steadied him. Junior shoved him away, and coldly pointed his gun at Bruce. “Don’t you ever get tired of being the high and mighty, saintly, Bruce Clinkenbeard!?” he roared.

  Bruce looked around at the wedding guests, his and Chun Hua’s. “Junior, please. You don’t have to hurt anybody-“

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” Junior shouted. He flinched when Bruce reached for him, and the gun went off. They both looked very surprised.

  “Bruce?” Junior said, in a small voice.

  “Bruce!” Spring Flower screamed. She ran to him, glaring at the men in her way. They parted for her, fell away to either side, like rows of new-mown hay. When she reached her husband, she took one arm. Junior had the other, holding Bruce up as he wobbled. She put her other hand in the small of his back, to cradle him. “Set him down, gently, fool!” she hissed.

  Bruce chuckled and coughed. “Now you’ve down it- you’ve pissed off my snap-dragon.” He coughed some more, into his hand, and stared at the blood.

  Larry grabbed his gun, and backhanded Junior. “You damn fool! That was our number two hostage. Plus, if he dies, we won’t have a safe haven, up in the North Country.”

  “My dad-“

  “Your pa will hide you, sure. He won’t lift a finger, if the City interests and half of the North Country are looking for me and my men. Damn it!” He saw that Spring Flower was glaring at him. “We need a doctor,” she hissed.

  He turned to Jules. “Where’s Wong? Get him in here.”

  (21 pg, 5856 words)

  ***

  “Sorry Larry.”

  “I won’t lie, Luke; this thing has gone a little sideways. It’s bad.” He closed his eyes and opened them again. “We won’t leave you behind.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” Luke had his arm around his little brother, and they went down the stairs to the front hall and into the room with the hostages.

  ***

  “What did you do with the horses?” Larry asked Jules.

  “I turned them loose. It seemed like the thing to do,” Jules said. “Most of them headed for home.” He smiled. “And they say horses are dumb.”

  “Well, we got a few, who come back, looking for their feed.” Larry shrugged. “At least we got enough mounts for my men and three hostages.”

  “Leave him. Take me.”

  “That’s tempting, to me, personally, but no. You’re just not worth enough.”

  “If it’s just about money…” Jules said.

  “I’m an honest crook.” He grinned. “I stay bought. Not that I expect any loyalty from Junior. This is a carrot and stick thing.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m going west, through the G
ap, to the Big Woods and the Sea of Grass.”

  “Well, that’s a novel reason for a robbery. Grand theft, real estate.”

  “If you’re gonna steal, steal big, I say. Plus, all that land is the right price- Free for the taking.”

  “So the carrot is land? What’s the stick?”

  “We’ll make a bit of a ruckus, and draw the militia after us, to blood my followers and make it clear to the City interests that a campaign in the West is expensive and pointless.”

  “But it’s not.”

  “You see it, don’t you? In another generation, the City interests will own the North Country, and turn Bei Cheng, the North Settlement, into little Shanghai.”

  “Hate to disappoint you, but I work for the City interests that you’re spinning conspiracy theories about.”

  “Don’t try to snow me. You’re molding the boy, into something other than just another merchant. I heard tell of sword-play, duty and honor.”

  “That’s what En Lai wants for his son.”

  “Maybe. Maybe I was wrong. Well, I’ve got hostages to sort. Busy, busy.”

  ***

  “Ruined that dress,” Bruce said, meaning the red and pink confection that Spring Flower had worn as her wedding gown. There had been no question of her wearing white, and the traditional color, for a Chinese bride, was red, for good luck and for fertility. They were upstairs, in her bed room, and Doc Wong had seen to him. The bleeding wasn’t bad, and he had determined that the best course of action was to wait until morning to go after the bullet, which was still in there. They did not talk about the robbers.

  “I had looked forward to getting you out of it,” Bruce added, and Doc Wong bustled industriously with his instruments, ignoring them as best he could.

  She laughed, a sound like wind chimes, to him. “You know, that’s what I love about you, your optimism and your empathy, trying to make me feel better…”

  “Hey, I want to feel much better, bao bei,” he murmured.

  She kissed him and wiped away the tears that fell onto his face. “I just wish that you could be a little less noble, a little less ‘Good.’”

  “I’m just trying to be the man I see reflected in those eyes,” he said.

  She kissed him again, aggressively, tasting the blood, his blood, in his mouth, as she probed with her tongue. Her blood sang with desire, as she felt the ancient remedy for death, grief and loss. They broke for breath.