In the growing daylight, Long saw a waist-high fence ahead that stretched from the riverbank inland as far as he could see. He pointed a gloved finger at the seemingly endless line. “What could possibly need that much room to run?”

“You will find out soon enough,” NgGung said. “That is Cang’s pasture.”

“Impressive,” Long replied. “Where are his stables?”

“Several li upriver. This is the easternmost edge of his land.”

“How long will it take us to get there?”

“Get there? I don’t know. Few people have seen his stables. He has always come to me. He rides his fences every morning, checking for sections damaged by weather or rustlers in the night. It is too early for him to have come this far yet, so if we just wait here, he will see us soon enough. In the meantime, relax. This may be the last opportunity you’ll have to get some sleep for quite a while.”

NgGung set his water skins and travel bag down, and took a seat on top of the fence. He pointed to the thick grass inside the fence line.

Long got the point. He set his items next to NgGung’s, climbed over the fence, and lay down atop the soft grass in the warm sun. He fell asleep almost instantly. Three hours passed before he was woken by the sound of hooves pounding against the earth.

Long sat up and saw a man atop a beautiful black horse, tearing along the fence line toward them at an amazing rate. The horse was much taller and thinner than the bandits’ workhorses and had a lot less hair. It was sleek and beautifully proportioned, and even from a distance Long could see a wild gleam in its eye.

“Here comes Cang,” NgGung said.

Long continued to stare at the horse, and before he knew it, it was nearly upon him. Moreover, it did not look like it was going to slow down. Its hooves would grind him to a pulp if he did not move.

Long threw himself over the fence. At the same instant, Cang called out, “Whoa!” and Long saw him pull back on the reins, bringing the animal to a skidding halt a handbreadth from where Long had just been lying.

Cang looked over at NgGung and winked, then NgGung burst into laughter, slapping his thigh. “No matter how many times I see you do that, it never gets old! Hilarious!”

Long frowned. He did not find it the least bit funny. Even so, he looked up at Cang and got the feeling that he was a decent man, regardless of his strange sense of humor. Cang nodded a greeting, and Long bowed respectfully.

Long straightened and glanced at Cang’s horse. He was surprised to see that even though it had just been running extremely hard, it did not look the least bit winded. In fact, it had not even broken a sweat.

As for Cang, he was different from what Long had been expecting. The horseman was old and thin, with wild long white hair that streamed behind him in thin wisps. Nearly all of his teeth were missing, and his face was as brown and rugged as an old leather boot. However, his eyes were traced with laugh lines, which softened his appearance greatly. Even though he had just scared the life out of Long, Long could not be angry with the man.

“Greetings,” Cang said to Long. “I have been expecting you. Or at least I think you are the one I am expecting. Xie told me that someone meeting your description would be coming my way. Do you have any means of identifying yourself?”

Long removed his heavy leather gloves and held up his left thumb. The ring Xie had given him glistened in the late-morning sun.

“There it is,” Cang said. “The mark of my lord. You must be the chosen one.” He winked.

“Your lord?” Long asked.

“My warlord, if you prefer. My leader. I may live in Kaifeng with its bountiful grass and endless supply of water, but I consider myself a loyal subject of Xie’s desert family. Since his father has passed away, I now serve Xie.”

“What about the Emperor?”

“Xie’s family roots run much deeper than those of the ever-changing Forbidden City. In the city of Tun-huang, the Western Warlord is much more revered than the Emperor.”

Long had had no idea Xie was so powerful. He eyed Cang’s magnificent horse, and Cang smiled. “Have you ever ridden a horse, young man?”

“A little, sir.”

“How many different horses?”

“Two.”

“What kind were they?”

“Workhorses.”

“What kind of workhorses?”

Long thought for a moment. “Old ones.”

Cang chuckled. “I mean, what breed were they?”

“I am sorry, I do not know.”

“That is what I guessed you might say. Do you have any idea what you are in for?”

Long’s shoulders slumped. “Probably not.”




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