"What the hell are you up to?" he demanded.
"One does not worry about the Master. One only observes and learns." Chiun looked at Remo, seemed to understand his concern and said, "No matter what happens you must promise not to interfere. No matter what."
"Chiun, I won't let you do anything foolish."
"You will do as I say. You will not interfere. My House's debt to the Loni has been a family disgrace. You dishonour me if you stop me from discharging that debt. Do nothing."
Remo searched Chiun's eyes for any weakness, any hint, but there was none.
"I don't like it," Remo said glumly, even as he started moving back.
"Your preferences are of little interest to my ancestors. They like what I do."
The entire pit had now been raked until it was an evil mix of white hot stones and red hot embers.
Chiun looked around him at the Loni people. "The Lonis must again be taught of bravery."
He nodded to Princess Saffah and her sisters and they slowly walked forward in a single line toward the pit. Remo stood alongside and watched them, a procession of three proud and beautiful women. He could understand why once this land had great kings and queens. Saffah and her sisters were royalty in any land in any day. Traditional royalty was a gift of governments or an accident of heritage, but real royalty came from the soul. The sisters had soul.
Saffah stepped into the ritual bed of salt Chiun had prepared, then folding her arms, without hesitation, she placed her right foot into the bed of hot coals and began to walk into the pit of fire. The Loni gasped. Remo stood stunned. Obode appeared in a state of shock.
But oblivious to all their feelings was Saffah, who was now walking, resolute step after resolute step, down the center line of the pit. Her feet kicked up little clouds of sparks and heat shimmered around her bare ankles. When she was halfway across, the next sister stepped through the salt pit and out into the coals. And a few moments later, the third sister followed.
Remo watched their faces carefully; not a sign of pain or concern showed. It was some kind of trick. Cheapie old Chiun had done some finangling with the fire. Unworthy, Remo decided. Definitely unworthy of a Master of Sinanju. He would have to tell him.
The three sisters now stood in a row near Obode at the far end of the fire pit.
"Your princesses have shown you that the Loni can still breed courage," Chiun said, "but that is not enough to purify you."
Chiun stepped his bare wrinkled yellow feet into the small salt bed and then he too stepped out into the field of flame and fire and heat.
As he walked, he intoned a chant softly to himself. "Kufa tutakufa wote." Remo had never heard it before but recognized it as part of the Loni tongue.
Carefully, yet decisively, Chiun walked straight along the length of the fire bed.
And then in the middle he stopped.
Good trick, Remo thought. A real show-stopper,
Chiun stood there, feet not moving, arms folded, face impassive as ever, still mouthing his chant. "Kufa tuta-ufa wote."
"What's that mean?" Remo said to a Loni standing behind him.
"It means, As for dying, we shall all die."
The Loni watched Chiun and their small buzzings turned to silence as the seconds ticked on and Chiun stood still in the middle of the fiery pit, the heat waves rising around him, making his body seem to shimmer and shake even though he did not move.
Then a small wisp of smoke began to curl up the side of Chiun's leg. Remo could see that Chiun's shin-length white pants had singed at the bottom. A little speck turned brown, then black, then broadened, and now gave out thin trails of smoke. An orange dot appeared at the edge of one leg as the overheated fabric neared its flash point. A tiny lick of flame puffed up.
The Loni gasped. Remo took a step forward, then stopped, indecisive, not knowing what to do.
And over the gasping and the whispers roared the voice of General Obode.
"Will no one help that man?"
The roar was an anguished cry.
Yet no one moved.
"Help him," Obode demanded at the top of his voice.
Still no one moved.
With a bellow of rage and anger, Obode wrenched at the eight-foot post to which he was tied.
The force of his huge body tore the iron ring from its mounting and his hands came loose, still tied together with the ring now suspended on the rope connecting his wrists.
Chiun's ge was breaking into flame at the shins, at the waist.
Without hesitation, Obode raced forward the two steps separating him from the fire pit, seemed to pause momentarily, and then, barefooted, ran through the pit to the place Chiun, stood. Each step he took, he screamed. Yet he ran on. When he reached Chiun, he scooped with both hands together and lifted Chiun in his giant arms like a baby, then ran the short distance across the pit to exit at the side. He put Chiun down gently and with his hands began to beat out the flames of Chiun's uniform. Only when they were out, did he roll onto his back and begin to try wiping away the glowing bits of wood and rock that still stuck to his burned-black feet. He was still screaming in pain.
The Loni watched quietly as Chiun sat unconcerned and Obode ministered to his feet
And then, a full-throated cheer went up from the watching crowd. Hands clapped in the peculiar un-rhythmic African manner. Women shouted approval. Children whistled. The Loni princesses left their places and came running toward Obode and Chiun. Saffah snapped her fingers and shouted some words. In a seeming split second, women were back with leaves and buckets that appeared filled with mud and Saffah began making a poultice for Obode's feet.
Remo came over and as he moved in front of Chiun, he saw with astonishment that Chiun's feet were unmarked and so were his legs and hands. His uniform was singed and scorched, in places crisped away into hard flecks of black charcoal, but Chiun was unhurt.
As Remo stood there, Chiun moved to his feet and stood over the figures of the three princesses ministering to General Obode.
"People of the Lord, hear me now and hear me well because I have traveled many miles to bring you these words." He waved a hand toward Obode, writhing on the ground in pain.
"You have learned through this man today that the Hausa may have courage. It is the beginning of wisdom. You have applauded his courage, and that is the beginning of self-worth. The Loni did not lose an empire because of the Hausa. They lost it because they were not fit to hold it. Today, your people have regained their fitness. The legend has been redeemed. The debt of the House of Sinanju has been paid."
One voice piped out of the crowd. "But our return to power. What of that?" Several voices mumbled in concert with him.
Chiun raised his hands for silence. "No man bestows power, not even the Master of Sinanju. Power is earned by deeds and works. The President of the Hausa has learned something today. He has learned that the Loni no longer hate him because he is a Hausa. They have hated him because he has been unjust. Today he is going to become a great leader because he will now bring the Loni into the palaces of government to build again a great land. The Loni will not be sergeants and servants; they will be generals and counsellors." Chiun looked down at Obode whose eyes met his. They locked momentarily and Obode nodded in agreement, then looked away, back at the head of Princess Saffah who still ministered to his burned feet, her long black silken hair splashing about his blistering ankles.
"To keep this new power, the Loni must be worthy," Chiun said. "And then soon there may be a new race of kings in this land. With, the bravery of the Hausa, with the beauty and wisdom of the Loni."
He looked now at Saffah. She looked at him and then, with tenderness, at Obode, then nodded to Chiun. She smiled and reached out her hand and placed it on Obode's shoulder.
"People of the Loni, the legend is done. You may tell your children you saw the Master. You may tell them also he will return if ever man's hand is set unfairly against you people whom I protect."