Free Dragon by Jeff Stone

responsible for choosing their campsites and making sure the horses had plenty to drink and graze on. While Sanfu modestly said that he was not a horse expert, he was able to give Long a good idea of how to care for and handle one.
    Long would help Sanfu unhook the horses from their carts every evening, removing their collars and harnesses. He would then lash each horse’s halter to the base of a stout tree, allowing enough distance between the animals for them to be able to eat and rest without harassing one another, or becoming entangled. He would also check their hooves, dislodging small stones and the like.
    Before dawn, while the others were still asleep, Long would ride one of the horses bareback for a time before hooking it back to the cart. The horses were old and gentle, and he found them to be forgiving of any mistake he made. He quickly learned to steer by holding the reins and lightly moving the leather straps either right or left across their necks. The horses were far more sensitive than he had imagined, and he was soon able to turn them with little more than a flick of his wrist.
    Riding atop a horse without a saddle was not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it would be better than walking a great distance, especially since his leg and arm were still on the mend. He was eager to try galloping, but there was never enough open ground to attempt it. Besides, as Sanfu had pointed out, these were stubby old Mongolian workhorses. If their cumbersome gait was uncomfortable at a walking speed, at a full gallop it would rattle his skeleton and bruise his bottom worse than anything he had ever encountered in the fight clubs.
    After five days on the trail, Long was growing confident in his basic riding skills, and he could not have been more pleased, especially after they passed through a particularly dense stand of bamboo and he saw a collection of tents in a clearing ahead.
    It was the bandit camp.

S haoShu sat atop his secondhand pony, staring through rays of fading afternoon light at the fast-moving caravan of riders ahead of him. All he had seen for the past several weeks were horses’ butts, and he was sick of it. He hoped the group pitching tents ahead meant a long-term change of scenery.
    As part of Tonglong’s official caravan, ShaoShu and ninety-nine of Tonglong’s elite soldiers were racing ahead of the main troops to the former bandit stronghold so that Tonglong could make plans with Commander Woo, the man Tonglong had left in charge. They were in such a hurry, Tonglong forbade them to set up formal camps at night. They slept beneath the stars, or in the homes of villagers they came across.
    ShaoShu felt terrible about the treatment of those poor villagers. The soldiers would throw people out of their own homes and eat everything in sight, then steal whatever they chose when they left the following morning. If the villagers complained, the soldiers would burn their homes to the ground.
    ShaoShu wanted it to be over soon, but he knew that it would not. Tonglong was only getting started. His network of recruiters had grown amazingly quickly because of the bounties he offered, and men and boys were being dragged into his army at a frightening pace. The recruiters’ reach grew longer and faster than even Tonglong’s elite caravan could travel.
    As ShaoShu continued down the trail, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of soldiers pitching tents in a large clearing. One side of the clearing was a thick line of trees. The other side was a tall stone wall that had been damaged in a few places, and beyond the wall was a series of ruined buildings. The buildings had been made of stone and were covered with burn marks. The tile roofs had gaping holes where flames had licked their way through, and all of the doors and windows had been burned away. He wondered why this location had been selected.
    “Cangzhen Temple?” a nearby soldier said. “Really? No wonder Warlord Tonglong chose this spot to