Hok noticed that the lamps on several tables were not burning. The effect left the people sitting at those tables in relative obscurity. She liked that. Hok blew out the oil lamp on their table and helped Seh sit down. Charles excused himself to get something for them to eat from a nearby vendor, and Hok took a seat next to Seh.
Hok folded her arms, resting them on a thick metal railing that surrounded the fighting pit, and looked down into the pit for the first time. It was enormous, as deep as four men were tall, and formed a perfect circle. Hok guessed it was at least fifty paces across. The sides and bottom were covered with rough bricks, and there was a large door at one end. The door was closed.
“What does the pit look like?” Seh asked.
“It's deep,” Hok replied.
Seh tapped his bulging midsection and lowered his voice. “Do you think the rope is long enough? It wraps around my waist seven times.”
“The rope definitely won't reach the bottom of the pit,” Hok replied, “but it still might work. Fu and Malao can jump and probably reach it. That is, if we even get a chance to throw it to them.”
“We've come this far,” Seh said. “We need to at least try and help them escape.”
“I agree,” Hok said.
Charles returned carrying three small drinking bowls of fruit juice and three bundles of sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves, all on a tray. He set the tray on the table and plopped down in his chair, handing the pouch of coins to Seh. “I can't believe I just spent the equivalent of two years’ wages.”
“You did use a lot of coins,” Seh said, weighing the bag in his hand. “Thanks. It's very difficult for me, not being able to see.”
“No problem,” Charles said. “It made more sense for me to handle everything anyway, with the color of my skin and all. It's supposed to look like I'm treating you.” He paused. “If you don't mind my asking, where did you get all that money?”
“From my father,” Seh replied, tying the pouch to his sash. “Is there much left?”
“No,” Charles said. “But I was thinking, you could bet some of it on Fu and Malao. If the odds are good and they win, you could get all your money back, and more.”
“That's a good idea,” Seh said, “but I don't plan to stick around long enough to collect the winnings. I'll just hang on to what we have. The funny thing is, this money is winnings from a different fight Malao was in.”
Charles’ eyebrows raised. “Really? I never heard this story.”
“Another time,” Seh said. “We should keep our talking to a minimum.”
“Right,” Charles said. He looked over toward the back corner of the fight club, and Hok followed his gaze. There were a large number of people crowded around a small table.
“I think I'll go take a look at the bettors’ table,” Charles said. “Maybe I can find out when Fu and Malao are fighting.”
“Good idea,” Hok replied.
Charles stood and Hok watched him walk over to the cluster of people who were exchanging strings of coins for bamboo sticks with writing on them. As Charles began to muscle his way into the group, a door opened off to one side of the bettors’ table. Out walked HaMo with a fistful of wager sticks. Behind him was a tall, thin man with a large pointy nose, short greasy hair, and tiny, perky ears. There was no doubt this man was LaoShu—Rat.
Behind LaoShu came ten soldiers with qiangs, surrounding an additional person. Hok couldn't see who it was, but he—or she—was obviously very important. Hok also couldn't help but notice a soldier in the group who stood at least three heads taller than everyone else in the room. Hok had seen extraordinarily large men before, including Hung and Mong, but this soldier dwarfed them all. She could hardly believe he was human. He had wide, thick shoulders, long black hair, and an expressionless gaze as cold as stone.
People in the crowd began to notice LaoShu and the soldiers, and the fight club fell silent. The cluster of bettors even quieted down.
HaMo separated from the group and sat alone at a small table in back with his back to the wall. LaoShu and the soldiers walked down several tiers toward a long empty table at the edge of the pit, opposite Hok and Seh. As the group slowly descended, people began to whisper excitedly.
Hok watched the group, and they soon descended to a point where Hok could catch a glimpse of the important person. It was a man, and he was wearing a brilliant yellow robe as bright as the sun. Only one person in all of China was allowed to wear a yellow robe—the Emperor.
A small drum sounded, and all eyes turned anxiously to LaoShu, who had reached the edge of the pit. The Emperor sat down, and the enormous man took the seat to the Emperor's right. A different soldier sat down in the chair to the Emperor's left, and Hok's heart skipped a beat. She recognized the man's bald head and bushy eyebrows. It was General Tsung.