Two riders journeyed through the snow-laden moors and slowed their horses when they next saw a tavern after observing another sunset.

  “I have been thinking,” said Keihan, as they cantered along the path towards the guesthouse, “it would be better for me if I stayed here while you go home and do whatever you have to do. I’ll wait for you here at –” He glanced up at the signboard: A Wayside Inn “– this establishment.”

  “I’m going to be gone for at least two or three weeks! Won’t you be bored?” asked Mao.

  “Well, I can always ask the innkeeper what amusements there are around here. But really, I’ll be fine. It is just that …”

  “Oh, I think I understand. You’d rather not cross the path of the mighty and terrible duke, right?”

  Keihan grinned sheepishly. “He’s not so bad.”

  “Hey, let’s not kid ourselves here. He may not look like a monster, but he sure can act like one, right? Anyway, it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to come along. I hardly want to visit myself, if it were just for his sake.”

  Keihan did not know what to say, so he said nothing. The two boys went into the inn, ordered supper and got rooms for the night. The next day, they parted company.

  After lunch on the first day alone, Keihan went to the inn clerk to ask for paper, brush and ink. The inn clerk complied and asked if he should put the cost onto the room tab, same as for food and drink.

  “That will be fine,” said Keihan.

  “May I ask how long sir intends to stay?”

  “Don’t know,” Keihan replied and shrugged. “That depends on how long it takes my friend to return. Is that a problem?”

  “Oh no,” the inn clerk said, “but if you intend to stay longer than a day or two, there are some housekeeping rules I should point out. If they are any trouble for you then please let me know.”

  Keihan listened politely, and then said that it all sounded fine to him, and that he would do his best to observe these rules.

  The inn clerk did not like the look of Keihan and did not waste much time in communicating this to his employer. In fact, it was the afternoon of the very next day that he made his opinion known. The innkeeper tended to wake early and did the early shift while the inn clerk did the late shift; however, from noon until afternoon, they both worked the counter. While the innkeeper was totting up the total from the previous night, and that morning’s takings, the inn clerk said, “That young man is a thief in the night if I ever saw one!”

  “Hmm, what? Can you wait until I finish this or I will lose count.”

  So the inn clerk waited until his employer had finished counting, and then said, “I bet you that he is planning to scarper and not pay for his lodging or food. That young man in Room 9, overlooking the stables.”

  “I think you are wrong, Bak Choi.”

  “I had Suzie search his belongings while he was having his dinner last night and she tells me that he hasn’t got any money in his coat pockets. So this leads me to believe that he is not planning to pay us. All he has to do is take his horse and leave.”

  The innkeeper was surprised and then said sternly, “Choi! I run a guesthouse, not a thief’s den! It is not the practice here to ask the maid to go through patron’s belongings.”

  “But sir, I am only looking after your interests. Anyway, he doesn’t have any belongings, except for the clothes on his back. If he is planning to run without paying then you will be losing out, sir. Every day that he is here eating your food and taking up a room which could be rented out to paying guests.”

  “He is a patron. And anyway, not having any money in his coat pockets proves nothing. Travellers almost always keep their money on their own persons at all times. He probably keeps his in a belt pocket.”

  “He doesn’t appear to have one. Look at his clothes! He’s dressed like a yokel!”

  Thus the innkeeper extended his shift so he could observe the young man for himself, after which he remarked, “I feel you are mistaken, Bak Choi. I am a better judge of character and from his bearing, I dare say he isn’t the sort of chap who will shirk from paying his dues.”

  “Would you care to bet on it, sir?”

  The innkeeper declared that he would. So they agreed that if the inn clerk was correct, then his salary would double for the remainder of his service, and if he was incorrect, then his salary would halve.

  Thus, the minute detail of Keihan’s stay at the inn became of much interest to the innkeeper and his employee. The inn clerk observed that he spent much of his first week writing, and at the beginning of the second week, asked for more paper, after chucking the first lot into the fireplace. In the second week, he started the habit of taking his horse for a ride in the afternoon for about an hour or two. Each time he departed dressed in his fur-lined overcoat, hat and gloves, the inn clerk would look pointedly at the innkeeper, and each time he returned, the innkeeper would look pointedly at the inn clerk. During one such excursion, the inn clerk dared to sneak up to his room. He found the writing desk littered with papers covered in tiny words, most of which he did not recognise. He had to admit that the young man could not possibly be a yokel, but it was not the action of a scholar to chuck theses into the fireplace …

  The afternoon of the second day of the third week, the innkeeper and the inn clerk observed Keihan descend the steps and go out of the side door towards the stables. The inn clerk looked at the innkeeper and said, “I bet this is it. He’s going to scarper.”

  “He could be just taking a leak,” said the innkeeper.

  “No, I observed he took a leak a half hour ago.” They watched Keihan lead his horse from its stall, check it over, and then after speaking to the stable lad for a bit, take it out of the courtyard and down the road. The inn clerk smiled and said, “He is definitely going to make his escape now. Shall I draft a new employment contract?”

  The innkeeper ignored him and turned towards the stable lad, who came in and told them that the young master had said to tell them that he had decided to go to the nearest town for a day or two and that if his friend were to show up in his absence, to tell that friend he was taking the main road that winds through Kirkshire there and back, but that he didn’t plan to stay long at the town anyway so his friend should wait for him here. The stable lad recovered his breath, and went out again.

  “I bet he told us that so he can get further away before we become alarmed,” said the inn clerk.

  The innkeeper shook his head. The inn clerk was immediately disappointed when Keihan returned the day after.

  That evening, Keihan chucked a second set of papers into the common room fireplace, but he did not ask for more paper. Instead, he returned the brush and ink to the clerk. And after supper he took a perch before the fireplace, and stared into the flames. This became his evening habit.

  In the evening of the sixth day of the third week, the inn clerk found he did not have much leisure to study the young man’s aspect to find further proof of his ignoble character because the inn became rather busy with patrons and the usual waiter had caught a chill and was too sick to work. The inn clerk had to wait on the tables himself and drafted the maid to help.

  There was, that evening, a rather unpleasant character taking up one whole table in the middle of the room. The scoundrel delighted in pawing the maid as she passed with her tray of orders. Understandably, Suzie was rather upset the second time it happened and she dropped her tray in front of the brigand. The whole room quietened to watch. The loathsome blackguard was splattered with food debris, and he caught hold of the maid. The inn clerk would have rushed over at once if he hadn’t prudently cast his professional eye over the length and breadth of the bandit, and concluded he could snap the clerk like a twig. The bandit began to demand compensation for the trauma, and made lecherous suggestions. Luckily for the maid, a noble-looking duo at the next table came to her rescue. After declaring, “This maid is a properly brought-up innocent, how dare you put your filthy paws on her!” they drew their swords and were then half-beaten to death by the massive spear-wielding bandit who then rummaged through their persons to find and remove heavy moneybags.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He would have profited by this night’s work except, on the way out he glanced towards the fireplace and happened to see the pitiless scorn on the face of a certain young man – there should be shocked fear – so he had to make an issue of it –

  In the blink of an eye –

  The young man wrenched his spear away – a foot in the bandit’s chest sent him back two metres to land on his bottom – his head hit the floor with a crack – dazed he opened his eyes to see the young man was descending on him with the spear blade murderously aimed at his skull – he rolled out of the way just in time. Looking back, he saw the spear had not only cracked the floor tile, but was now buried halfway in the floor. The young man left the spear and advanced towards him – with unprecedented quickness of wit, the bandit imagined his approaching death. He spun to his knees and began to kowtow repeatedly, whimpering, “Don’t kill me great hero … don’t kill me … I don’t want to die … I don’t want to die …”

  Madness and the devil chased each other on the young man’s face, but then as if hearing a faraway half-remembered song, he stiffened, recollected himself and relaxed. He squatted casually in front of the bandit, and then, smiling without humour, said, “You should not take what isn’t yours.”

  The bandit took out the purloined bags of money and held them towards the young man with trembling hands. Keihan tossed them to their original owners. Then Keihan remarked, “You have caused some damage to these premises. You should compensate the innkeeper.”

  The bandit reached inside his clothes and took out another moneybag, but when Keihan ignored it, he placed it on the floor between them and kowtowed again whimpering, “Don’t kill me … I don’t want to die.”

  “Is that all the money you have?”

  The bandit rummaged about his person and took out two more bags. “That is all I have, sir … please don’t kill me, great hero … I don’t want to die.”

  Keihan picked up the moneybags and stood up saying, “Get out of my presence, and if I ever see you again causing trouble …”

  Thus freed, the bandit stumbled away.

  Keihan placed the three bags on the counter and said to the inn clerk that it should be enough to pay for the damage. The innkeeper (in his nightshirt) rushed over and thanked the young man, and said it was most likely enough to replace the furniture many times over, then seeing the glint of heavy gold in one bag, recalculated it was probably enough to replace the whole inn.

  The innkeeper bustled about ordering his staff to put the remaining table and chairs right, and to get some of their best wine for the hero – on the house!

  “No, no wine, thank you – it gives me bad dreams. I’m going up to my room. Can you get me some hot tea, or some water?”

  “Of course, of course,” the innkeeper bowed, and immediately went to the kitchen to order the maid to take up a pot of fresh tea, and a jug of cool water.

  The inn clerk was tidying bits and pieces when he was startled by a burst of muffled yelling followed shortly by the maid flouncing down the stairs to plonk her empty tray on the counter and declare, “How rude!”

  “What’s the matter?” asked the inn clerk.

  “I was just taking up some hot tea and water up to that young man. Then, all I was trying to do was thank him for saving my life and helping us get rid of that pest, and he swore at me! to stop disturbing him!” said Suzie.

  “Disturbing him? From what?”

  “He was only staring at this bit of paper. I had to cough three times before he noticed me! And then it was to – No, I shan’t repeat what he actually said. To look at him, you’d think he was a polite young man, but such language! Such rudeness!”

  After the inn clerk had locked up the house for the night, he asked the cook if he could remove the spear shaft from the floor. The cook was a rather muscular fellow known to be able to carry whole sides of pork and beef on his shoulders, but he failed to tug the spear out. On the fourth attempt, the wood snapped. Now lacking a proper grip, it was even more impossible. “There’s no help for it but to dig it out, Choi,” said the cook. “But that is going to have to wait until tomorrow.” He yawned, and went back to the kitchen to finish up clearing the work surfaces, and preparing for tomorrow’s work before going to his own bed.

  The next day, when Keihan descended the stairs and noticed the broken off spear shaft, he stamped the earth next to it with a tide of Qh’i and the stub shot out like a pip from a squeezed orange. He caught it and laid it on the counter where he ordered his usual breakfast from the innkeeper and went to his usual table in his usual manner. The inn folk, seeing that his usual manner was a particularly vicious type of sullen misanthropy, were then very careful not to rouse this dragon from his skin. The innkeeper, following the consensus on the young man’s true nature, then found it remarkable how changed it was when his friend turned up around noon on the second day following the incident.

  Mao answered Keihan’s queries on the health of the Aramond family – and Keihan laughed heartily with Mao when he recounted some hilarious incidents that had befallen his cousins during the New Year celebrations.

  The inn clerk took his place at the counter, and remarked, “I see that the young man will no doubt be leaving today.” And he began to tot up the amount owing.

  When the two boys finished lunch, they decided to start their journey back to Shaolin, so Keihan went up to get his coat, hat and gloves while Mao prepared to pay the bill. However, the innkeeper, for some reason declined to accept a penny more than the lunch bill.

  Mao explained that he was also going to pay for Keihan’s stay at the inn, but again the innkeeper declined, saying, “There is no need.”

  Mao was astonished as he didn’t think Keihan had any money on him, but when Keihan returned, he gave up his argument with the innkeeper and the two boys got their horses and departed.

  “Here is my new employment contract,” said the inn clerk with a smirk, “please put your signature on it.”

  “But here you’ve made out that your salary is to be doubled!”

  “Yes, I won the bet.”

  “No, you didn’t!”

  “Yes, I did. The young man did not pay his bill.”

  “But … but that’s because I decided to waiver payment due to the service he did in getting rid of that –”

  “The fact of the matter –”

  “The point is that he was never going to run off, his friend was intending to pay –”

  And thus the good-natured innkeeper and his shrewish clerk spent many a happy idle hour arguing over who had actually won the bet. The innkeeper argued the spirit of it, and the clerk argued the technicality of it.

  During Mao’s home visit, Aramond had taken every opportunity afforded by every meeting between them to make a slanderous remark about Keihan’s character. At the last, Mao had angrily demanded to know: what did he really have against Keihan, why must he always insinuate that only harm would be the result of their friendship! – Aramond had replied, “My only concern is for your well-being, Mao. I do not say these things for the good of my health. Your friend does not have the kind heart you have. You are much too trusting. You should not assume that just because you are this way, that other people are the same! You should not be so blind to the people around you like that. And especially not! to the people closest to you. And in my opinion, this Keihan is more dangerous than you can possibly realise. I can’t order you to cease friendship with this wolf, but I must warn you! If you must be friends with a glove-wearing tiger, then certainly don’t be so stupid as to think he doesn’t have claws –” The seed of distrust was sown – and when he saw the extremely deferential way the inn folk had behaved around Keihan, that seed began to grow. Was it possible there was substance to his father’s words?

  Keihan noticed Mao was unusually quiet since leaving the inn, and at first did not comment, but after a few hours, he said, “This isn’t like you, Mao. Are you unwell? What is on your mind?”

  So Mao mentioned that the innkeeper had refused payment, and the inn folk had been too courteous. When he heard this, Keihan was amused, “Is that the trouble? That people refuse payment and are polite? Is that what you have been brooding about all this time?”

  Mao’s face darkened and he muttered something about how unusual it was.

  “If you say so,” said Keihan airily, “but it might be that the innkeeper was grateful because there was this troublesome fool breaking up his furniture and I persuaded him to stop making trouble and to leave.”

  “How did you do that?” Mao wanted to know.

  “I pointed out that his behaviour was totally unacceptable. He was breaking up furniture and harassing the waitress, so he was clearly in the wrong and as a gentleman he ought to apologise and compensate the innkeeper or face criticism from the other customers. It was bad enough that they’ve had to spend the whole day travelling but then to have their meals disturbed by the likes of him, it just wasn’t on … so I beat the crap out of him, and almost murdered him.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “No, but –”

  “Are you annoyed because by rights, people should not be allowed to show courtesy but to the sons of dukes? Or that people should not be allowed to exercise generosity if they wish to and must take money even when they’d rather not? Do you want me to go back to the inn and tell them they must take your money and be bad-tempered and rude? Do you want me to teach them how to curse?”

  “That isn’t what I meant, stop … twisting it.”

  They journeyed in silence, Mao refusing to surface from his mood. Keihan would glance at him every now and again, and then Tusk! And Tut! and Wonder to the World that Mao, with all his lofty advantages could be so petty, trite and narrow-viewed. Eventually, Mao could not help himself and laughed, thus the doubt in his heart was dispelled for the duration of the journey, and the two boys arrived at Shaolin in relatively good humour.