"The barbarian speaks truth, Master," Pigsy said. "Let us bring the prince to you."
Tripitaka glanced at his brutish face, and his eyes widened in alarm, but Monkey only grinned. "Not all of us. Master—only me."
"Now, how did Monkey say he was going to do this again?" Chalmers asked nervously, eyeing the monastery gate, where Pigsy and Sandy lounged, one at either side against the wall, their weapons ready to hand.
"He said he's going to change himself into a rabbit," Shea muttered back, "a white rabbit. Apparently, they're pretty special here, and Monkey seemed pretty certain the prince would drop everything to come chasing him."
"But what about his entourage?''
"Monkey seemed pretty sure he could lose them." Shea eyed Pigsy and Sandy. "Just in case he can't, though, Pigsy and Sandy are supposed to surround them and keep them here."
"Surround them? How few does Monkey think there are going to be?"
"It doesn't seem to matter. Would you want to go up against our worthy travelling companions, no matter how many people you had at your back?"
Chalmers took another look at Pigsy's face, and shuddered.
Shea stiffened, laying a hand on Chalmers' arm. "I hear dogs."
"Do you?" Chalmers lifted his head. "Why, yes so do I!"
The belling of the hounds came closer. Suddenly, a small white blob came dashing across the meadow, straight toward the monastery gates. As it dashed through, the riders came into sight—four of them, with a young man in embroidered silk robes at their head, He rode yelling with excitement and dashed through the gate just as the white rabbit dodged in through the temple door. "Curse it!" the young man cried, dismounting. He threw his reins at Shea, crying, "Hold him, fellow!" and ran into the temple.
Shea stared at the reins in indignation, then looked up at Chalmers, who was trying to hide a smile—but a racket at the gate distracted them. They turned to see the four other riders come plowing up a cloud of dust as they halted—then looked up in alarm as the gates slammed shut, and Pigsy and Sandy stepped out from the wall.
"Keep your seats," Pigsy grunted, levelling his muck-rake.
The hunters pulled together in sudden fear, but one of them tried to bluster. "Who do you think you are, fellow? Hold our horses and stand aside! We must follow our master!"
"This is a holy precinct." Sandy grinned, showing pointed teeth—not filed, naturally grown, the only vestige of his monstrous past. "This is a holy precinct, and men of violence are not allowed inside."
The man eyed Sandy's halberd, no doubt noticing the glint of sharpness along the edge, and tried one more weak protest. "What kind of monks are you, who hold weapons?"
"Very strong ones," Pigsy answered. "I have repented my violent ways—but alas! My temper keeps getting the better of me!"
"Be at ease," Sandy invited, though his blade did not waver. "Your master will rejoin you soon enough."
The hunters eyed the two erstwhile monsters, and held their peace.
Shea wrapped the reins around the nearest post and beckoned to Chalmers. "Come on! This is one interview I really want to hear!
They got to the door of the Zen Room just in time to hear the prince rage: "Why do you not bow to me, foolish bonze? I arrest you for your impudence in failing to bow to a prince!" He looked behind him to gesture to his men—and suddenly realized he was all alone.
"The white rabbit, too, has disappeared," Monkey said. "Why not your men?"
"How dare you talk, audacious rascal! Know you not that monkeys only chatter?"
"I am the Stone Monkey," the simian answered, "and my master, Tripitaka, is as much a prince as yourself."
"So I was born," Tripitaka admitted, "but I have forsworn all worldly titles. I am only a Pilgrim Monk, Your Highness." His back was as straight as ever, though.
The prince was not all that dense; he was beginning to get the drift that something unusual was going on. He frowned at Tripitaka and said: "I do not seek wisdom yet."
"Every prince should seek wisdom," Tripitaka returned, "the more so when he shall one day rule— as you shall have to do, and very soon, too."
The prince's sword flashed out. "Do you speak of slaying my father, fool?"
Monkey calmly reached up and took hold of the prince's wrist; the young man's eyes bulged, and he dropped the sword with a tiny mew of pain.
"Your father is already dead," Tripitaka said gently. "He has been dead for three years, and he who sits on his throne is an imposter." Then, to Monkey, "Release him."
Monkey let go, and the prince held his wrist, massaging it and staring wildly at Tripitaka. "What nonsense is this you speak! I saw my father only yesterday, and he was as hale and as hearty as ever!"
"You saw a sorcerer who had stolen his appearance," Tripitaka answered, then began to tell him the whole tale from the beginning. The prince stood listening, his eyes growing wider and wider.
Finally, when Tripitaka was done, the prince bowed his head, chin resting on his breast, scowling at the floor, his face somber.
The companions waited, watching him closely, holding their breath.
Finally, the young man lifted his face, "It may be as you say," he said, "but I cannot believe something of such magnitude on your word alone, even though you are a holy man. What proof can you give?"
Silently, Tripitaka reached into the folds of his robe and drew out the white jade tablet.
The prince seized it with a heart-rending cry. "This never left my father's side! How have you stolen it? When?" Without waiting for an answer, he ran for the door, crying, "Guards! Courtiers! Arrest these thieves!"
Pigsy leaped between him and the door, but the look on his face was grave. "Please do not. Your Highness. We are no thieves."
"You must be, for that tablet is a family heirloom!" The prince whirled, pointing at Tripitaka with a trembling hand. "It has been the property of the Kings of Crow-Cock ever since our dynasty began! My father had it from his father, and will give it to me in his turn!"
Silently, Tripitaka held his gaze.
Trembling, the prince caressed the tablet, but his eyes were on Tripitaka's. "You did not steal it?'
"I did not," Tripitaka returned. "The ghost of whom I spoke, he gave it to me."
The prince faltered, but regained his composure bravely. "I cannot be certain! You may have stolen it from his pocket as he passed through a crowd—he may have given it to the temple on some foolish impulse! "
Tripitaka sighed with exasperation, but Shea said, "Why not ask your mother?"
The last vestiges of color drained from the prince's face. He stared at Shea in outrage. "What is your meaning?"
"Why, only this." Shea spread his hands. "No one knows him as well as his wife. If there has been any change in him, wouldn't she be the one most apt to notice it?"
The prince still eyed him dangerously. "In what way?"
Shea sighed; the kid was determined to be obtuse. "Ask her if the King still loves her as much as ever."
The prince still stared at Shea, but his color came back; indeed, his face began to darken. But he gave a curt nod and said: "It is well advised. I shall attempt it. If she says he has turned cold to her, I shall return and seek your assistance in my revenge." He spun on his heel and stalked toward the door.
Tripitaka caught Pigsy's eye and nodded. The pigheaded creature reluctantly stepped aside.
On the threshold, the prince spun about, his finger stabbing at them. "But if she says he is as much in love with her as ever, I shall return with an army to slay you all!" He whirled about, and was gone.
They stared at one another, listening to his footsteps receding down the hall. Then Monkey said: "I note that he waited till he was at the door before he threatened us."