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Remo looked. Chiun's right hand was a tense fist like a bony mallet carved
from aged ivory.
"I don't get it. What happened to you?"
Chiun's face stiffened to a waxen mask. "I cannot bring myself to say."
"Come on," Remo said, approaching. "It can't be that bad. Let me see."
Chiun averted his face, offering his tightly closed fist to his pupil.
Remo took it carefully. He counted the fingers. All four looked intact. The
thumb was still there, too.
Carefully Remo unbent them, opening the Master of Sinanju's fist.
"Tell me it is not as bad as it seemed in the first anguished moment of pain,"
Chiun moaned.
"I don't see anything," Remo said slowly.
"The longest finger. Tell me it is whole."
"It is."
"And the nail?"
"Yeah, it's- Wait a minute. It's gone."
Chiun threw a thin wrist across his forehead. "I am undone. I am shamed. I
have been humiliated."
"What the hell happened?"
Chiun dragged his eyes back to his hand. They fell on the stump that was his
fingernail. It projected slightly past the finger's tip, but at a slanting
angle, not tapered to a point like the rest.
"It will take years to renew," he wailed.
"Well, months anyway," said Remo. "But what happened, Chiun?"
"I cannot say."
"Why not?"
"My humiliation is too great. Do not force the words from my lips. Just find
the member that was once part of me."
"Okay," Remo said, relaxing slightly now that he knew Chiun hadn't really been
maimed. "Give me a sec."
He found the nail easily enough now that he knew what he was looking for. It
lay on the ground, clearly. visible to Remo's Sinanju-trained eyes. In the
moonlight it looked strangely white, as if dead.
Remo brought it back to the Master of Sinanju, cupped in one hand.
"Now what?" he asked.
"Wrap in it warm milk," said Chiun.
"That only works with teeth," Remo said.
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Chiun hovered over the cupped artifact. "Is there no hope for it, then?"
"Maybe it can be welded back on, but I doubt it."
"I cannot bear the sight of it, detached as it is."
"Maybe Super Glue would work," said Remo.
"I will not stoop to artificial nails to hide my shame. Remo, do the necessary
duty for me. I beseech you."
"Do what?"
"Bury the poor thing."
"Bury a fingernail?"
"It is the only correct thing to do."
"We can do that later. Mind explaining how you managed to break this nail?"
"It is a sign that I am growing old and infirm. My Knives of Eternity have
grown fragile. Never has this happened before. There is no other explanation.
Not even a ronin could accomplish this on his own."
"A what?"
"If you had listened to me, this would not have happened."
"Don't blame this on me. I had to recover Smith's briefcase, okay? I didn't
want a maimed rescue worker on my conscience."
"A maimed teacher is acceptable, however?"
"I didn't maim you."
"I told you Japanese were behind this tragedy, but you did not listen."
"Japanese! Where do you get that?"
In the distance a familiar rumble and growling shook the darkness.
Remo turned. "Isn't that-?"
Chiun puffed out his cheeks. "The fiend! To add insult to injury, he is
stealing my dragon!"
Remo flashed toward the sound. He broke from the trees in time to see the
scarlet Dragoon APC rumbling down the road.
He started after it but Chiun's voice stopped him like a cracking whip. "Remo.
Come back. You do not know what you face."
"A car thief. Big freaking deal," said Remo.
Abruptly the Master of Sinanju was in front of him. He blocked the way, his
face stiff and cold. "I will not risk your humiliation, too. Your honor must
be unsullied if mine is to be avenged."
"What are you talking about?"
The Dragoon continued rumbling away. Remo tensed.
"Stay. I will explain."
His fists clenched tight, Remo wavered between obedience and pursuit.
Ultimately obedience won. He let the air escape his lungs and followed Chiun's
beckoning finger back into the dense forest of fir trees.
"You see these tracks?" Chiun said coldly.
"Looks like sandal prints."
"They are not," snapped Chiun, who then led him to a scarred fir tree.
"See this?" he asked, indicating a raw notch in the bark.
"Somebody chopped a hunk from that tree."
"It is the unmistakable bite of a katana. Study it well, Remo. For you have
never before encountered its like."
In the darkness Remo looked at it from a couple of angles. "Looks like a sword
chop."
"Yes. Some might call it a sword. But it is correctly called a katana. "
Remo's brow furrowed. "I don't know that word."
"Do you know the word ronin?"
"No."
"You are abysmally ignorant."
"Sue me."
"Sit."
Reluctantly Remo sat down on the fir needles, which were dry and odorless. A
freshening breeze came off Long Island Sound, smelling of rank salt grass and
dredged-up muck.
"A foe unlike any I have ever before encountered challenged me with his katana
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blade," said Chiun.
"Right."
"His first blow I parried successfully."
"Of course. You're you."
"His second passed through me harmlessly."
Remo frowned. "Okay..."
"We fought. Blows were struck. None landed. He was as mist. While I was as
hard as bone. Yet no harm was done to either combatant."
"You were fighting a ghost?"
"A ronin."
Remo made a face. "I don't know that word."
Chiun lifted a hand, his left. The right lay in his lap, tightly fisted so the
embarrassing absence of nail didn't show.
"I am not yet finished with my tale."
Remo subsided.
"Blows rained. Then the blade of doom was descending. But I feared it not, for
it failed to swish and flutter the air it sliced through as a true blade
should."
Remo nodded. Chiun had taught him years ago that striking swords made
distinctive warning sounds.
"As this hateful blade had no substance. I failed to shrink from it." Chiun [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]