Free Eagle by Jeff Stone Page A

him down, but he was still far ahead of Tonglong and the wounded soldiers bobbing among the wreckage of their dragon boat.
    Charles estimated he would reach the shore at least a quarter of an hour ahead of any survivors. Plenty of time to make it to the safe house and update the others. He would honor Hok's request and remind Fu, Malao, and Seh to go to PawPaw's house. However, there was no way they were going without him. He had saved Hok's life once before, and he would gladly risk his own life again and again for her.
    Charles would take the lead in her rescue. Malaowas only eleven years old, and Fu and Seh were just twelve and thirteen. They weren't old enough.
    Charles was fifteen. He was strong and he was clever, and most importantly, he had a boat. The fastest boat in all China. It was small, but it could accommodate the four of them, plus limited supplies. And if any of the others complained about him being in charge, the overall weight would quickly be reduced. The mutineers would be left in whatever port happened to be next.
    Charles knew how to keep a crew of seasoned sail ors in line. He could certainly handle three children.

“W ake up, Ying,” a soft voice urged. “Breathe through your nose.”
    Ying opened his eyes to find he was on his back inside the skiff with Hok hovering over his head. It was daylight, and she was holding a small twig beneath his nostrils. The fresh twig had been twisted upon itself many times, and a pungent liquid was oozing forth. It smelled so acrid, Ying's eyes watered. He coughed.
    “Sorry,” Hok said, casting the twig aside.
“Xiang mu
tree branch. Smelling the evergreen's sap can bring unconscious people like you back to the waking world.”
    Ying groaned. He glanced up to see where they were and was temporarily blinded by the sun high overhead. He squinted and moaned, “What time is it?”
    “Nearly midday. You've been unconscious since last night. I was beginning to question whether you were ever going to come out of it. I was lucky to have found the
xiang mu
tree nearby. I found a few other things, too.” She nodded toward Ying's left shoulder. “How does it feel?”
    Ying turned his head to see strips of Hok's white silk dress wrapped neatly around his upper arm and chest. The whole area felt as if it had been trampled by an ox.
    “It's fine,” Ying said.
    “It's not fine,” Hok replied. “I'm sure it hurts quite a bit. I removed a
qiang
ball from your shoulder last night, and packed the wound with horsetail plant once we arrived here.” She pointed to a cluster growing nearby, close to the water's edge.
    Ying looked over the side of the skiff and realized Hok had run it aground to take care of him. He nodded his thanks.
    Hok nodded back.
    “Where are we?” Ying whispered.
    “I don't know,” Hok said. “Soon after you blacked out, I went to work on your arm, quelling the bleeding as much as possible with strips of silk. Then I grabbed the oar and rowed upstream until—”
    “Upstream?” Ying interrupted.
    “Yes,” Hok said. “I am anticipating that Tonglong will have men search for us downstream since that is the direction of the current.”
    “Clever,” Ying said.
    Hok nodded. “We shall see.”
    “Then what happened?”
    “I continued to row upstream until the sun rose high enough that I could see the shore clearly. As soon as I found this patch of horsetail plant, I landed the boat and packed your wounds with it. After that, I went in search of the
xiang mu,
and here we are.”
    Ying paused and gathered his thoughts. “Why are you helping me? We were even.”
    “What a ridiculous question,” Hok said. “People should always help one another. That's just the right thing to do.”
    “But I—”
    “I know what you've done,” Hok said. “And I can guess what you're planning to do. It doesn't matter. I am not an animal. I have compassion.”
    Ying groaned. He didn't know what to say. He tried to sit up but collapsed back onto the floor of