"Big mistake."
"I have told you the tale of Nuihc, Remo, but I never told you all. I trained this deceiver and he took new work. But the work came from Wu Ming Shi. I knew this after Nuihc went into the world and shortly thereafter the children of Sinanju, no longer children, were returned. That was all the village ever saw of Nuihc's work. No money came from his efforts and I was unable to venture forth to investigate this matter because then there would be no one to protect the children from Wu Ming Shi, who ached to avenge the insult I inflicted upon his person."
"What insult?" Remo asked curiously.
"A minor unimportant detail," Chiun said. "And so it was for many years until word reached me that Wu Ming Shi had passed from this earth, his long-deferred dream unattainable. Nuihc found other clients. Still no money came. This was the early days of what you called the Cold War. I had resigned myself to remaining in Sinanju, the last worthy Master of Sinanju, when the American Conrad MacCleary came, offering gold if I would train a white. It was an insult, but after so many cruel blows, what was one more? I had trained a traitor, why not a white? Or a monkey? It was all the same to me. Sinanju was over. I would accept the gold so that the village would survive a few years longer. The rest you know. Nuihc found us and now Nuihc is no more. But Wu Ming Shi lives."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this when you found out he wasn't dead?" Remo wondered.
"I dared not. Wu Ming Shi threatened all that was dear to Sinanju before. I knew that if he knew of your existence, he would threaten you in order to make me his vassal once more, now that Nuihc had perished."
"Really?" Remo said. "All this was to protect me?"
Chiun nodded. "Truly. I pretended to this man that you were an unimportant servant."
"But he was going to execute me, and you were going to stand by."
"Do not be ridiculous, Remo. You-executed by a hopping masked lacky? This Sagwa is better than one might expect, having been trained by Nuihc. But you would have figured out his trickery in time. As you did."
"With your help."
Chiun nodded. "With my help. This is a subterfuge we must continue, for the time being. Until I know the full extent of Wu Ming Shi's power. No doubt he had servants who are under orders to strike at Sinanju should he come to harm at my hands."
"So what's next?"
"Wu Ming Shi covets the treasure of Temujin, no doubt for the same reason Zhang Zingzong does. Both men see it as the instrument through which they will impose a new order on China."
"So you're going to cut him in for a piece?"
"No, I will make a present of the final skull to him."
"You, willingly giving up a treasure?" Remo asked incredulously.
"It is the only solution. I will offer this to him to atone for the insult done to Wu Ming Shi, and all will be well."
"You think so?"
"Of course not! But I will pretend otherwise. And when the time is ripe," Chiun said, standing up suddenly, "I will harvest this heartless mandarin like wheat before a thresher. This I vow."
"Think he'll go for it?"
"It will appeal to his vanity that I, the Reigning Master of Sinanju, should offer him atonement. His ego is so monstrous he will undoubtedly accept my generous offer."
"Then what?"
"In this land, they speak of the Wheel of Life. I sense the Wheel turning, Remo. Perhaps it will exalt us, perhaps it will crush us. Perhaps nothing will change. Who can say with a wheel?"
And admonishing Remo to stay alert, the Master of Sinanju departed from the room, leaving Remo to contemplate the story he had been told and the guttering yak-butter candle.
Chapter 35
Two hours past daybreak, Boldbator Khan rode up to the outskirts of Sayn Shanda, an ornate teakwood box under one padded arm.
He rode into the camp of gers north of town, where Mongol horsemen waited expectantly, their horses saddled, bows and blades in the open.
"Ho, Mongol brothers!" Boldbator cried. "I am Boldbator Khan."
He was ignored the first three times he cried his greeting. His wide face was still. This was not the greeting he had expected.
"Have you not heard of me?" he asked a man.
"We ride with Kula," the man replied without enthusiasm as he rubbed down his pony. "And we serve the white tiger."
"Where do I find this Kula?" Boldbator demanded.
The Mongol gestured to a ger.
Boldbator rode up and dismounted, clutching the teak box. He pounded on the ger door.
The Mongol who emerged was stout-boned and grim of face.
"Sain Baina, Kula. I am Boldbator Khan, here to ransom the Master of Sinanju from the Nameless One."
"I have never heard of such a person," Kula grumbled.
Boldbator blinked. "Then why do you assemble for war?"
"We have lost the white tiger, a mighty warrior."
"What has befallen this white tiger?"
"A Chinese wench named Fang Yu made off with him. They are in the city, but we know not where. Not even the priests know, and priests always know every dirty little town secret."
"The Master of Sinanju rode off in the company of a Chinese woman named Fang Yu," Boldbator related.
It was Kula's turn to consider. He waved Boldbator inside. The ger door spanked shut, and the rising sun inflamed its scarlet-and-gold designs.
It was not long after that that the Master of Sinanju rode into the camp astride a pony, calling, "Boldbator the Mongol! I seek Boldbator the Mongol!"
Word reached Kula's ger. Boldbator emerged, Kula behind him.
Mongols of every stripe gathered around to listen to this Korean man who spoke the high Khalkha Mongol of the old empire days with the fluency of a herdsman.
"You are safe, O Master," Boldbator said happily. "I had feared I would have to ransom you."
"It is good you have come, Boldbator Khan," Chiun returned in stiff tones. "For I will need what is in that box to ransom myself."
Boldbator Khan hesitated. "What this box contains rightfully belongs to the Golden Horde, in part measure. As agreed."
"A share that I, Chiun, vow will be yours," retorted Chiun. "You have my word on this."
Boldbator handed up the box. Chiun took it. He placed the box on his saddle pommel and worked the designs until the lip popped. Then he extracted the cracked skull. He took it up in both hands, running his long-nailed fingers over it searchingly. Satisfied, he held it so that he looked into the skull's empty sockets, his thumbs touching its temples.
Boldbator Khan watched in silence. The Master of Sinanju stared long into the skull as if into eternity. Then he gave it a twist of his hands. Boldbator heard the abrupt scrape of bone. Chiun spat on the skull's ancient brow.
Then the Master of Sinanju returned the skull to its resting place.
"I go," he intoned, "but I will return. Do not seek me, Boldbator Khan. But await me here."
Chiun turned to the audience of Mongols.
"This holds for you all, sons of the steppes," he said, stern-voiced. "No one of you will follow me where I go, or you will face the wrath of your khan."
The Mongols looked back with hard bronze expressions.
Their gimlet gaze followed the bouncing haunches of the Korean's pony as it cantered back into the heart of Sayn Shanda.
Kula turned to Boldbator. "Who was that man that he orders Mongols around like mere Manchus?"
"That was the Master of Sinanju," Boldbator said. "There is none greater."
Kula snorted. "You have never ridden with the white tiger."
"I have never heard of this white tiger," Boldbator grunted.
"And I have heard the Master of Sinanju is a myth, not a man."
Chapter 36
The mandarin Wu Ming Shi sat on his rosewood-and-ivory throne like an entombed prince. His eyes were shut, the lids so brown and waxy they looked as if they would never open again.