The Luzus weren't sure what to do. Although their first impulse was to kill Remo, the symbol of Sinanju was too great a thing to ignore. It was finally decided that they would do as he requested and bring him back to their chief. But given the abilities he displayed, they would treat the intruder with extreme caution.
Shrill whistles called the natives on the hills down into the gorge. They fell in with the rest of the crowd. The entire army began marching through the ravine on foot.
And at the front of the armed horde, prodded with the points of three hundred spears, Remo Williams trudged deeper into Luzuland, a growing scowl on his skull-like face.
Chapter 17
Once fertile land had long since grown arid. In the moonlight were visible the ancient scars of collapsing canals and earthen dams. If water pooled in them at all, it was at another time of year and then purely by accident. Artificial reservoirs that had collected rainwater during the height of the Luzu Empire were now filled with dusty silt and brush.
As the Luzu army led him along a bone-dry canal, Remo took note of the scraggly brown brush growing wild all along its crumbling banks. Beyond the ancient irrigation system, a huge expanse of savannah was charred black-victim of a recent uncontrolled fire sparked by lightning.
Everywhere he looked were remnants of the civilization that had once thrived here.
Arid wells sat in the middle of nowhere. Too perfect tiers on a hillside was proof of steppe farming from another century. As they entered the shantytown that now served as the main Luzu village, Remo saw a huge pile of rocks that had been part of a large stone building. The rock had been cut from an abandoned quarry in the nearby mountains. A sentry had spotted the war party when it was still far off. By the time Remo and his army arrived in the village, the main square was filled with frightened Luzus.
If he hadn't been depressed already before coming to East Africa, the pathetic Kwa-Luzu capital would have sent him into an emotional tailspin.
The sight of so many distended bellies and malnourished faces filled Remo's heart with pity. Skeletal faces watched, eyes too big for shrinking sockets, as he was led through the crowd, past rows of crumbling huts and pathetic tin houses. They steered him to a large home near the stone remains of a dried-up well.
At the sound of his approach, a man who could only have been Chief Batubizee stepped out of the tumbledown house. A robe hung limp from his broad shoulders, and a tarnished crown of gold encircled his balding head. Remo was quick to note that the chief didn't seem to lack for food.
At Batubizee's elbow was the native who had collected Chiun at the airport. When he saw Remo, Bubu's eyes registered surprise.
"Who is this?" Batubizee boomed to the Luzu army, disapproval evident in his loud voice.
"He claims to be of Sinanju," a Luzu warrior offered.
Bubu leaned close to the chief's ear.
"He did arrive in the company of the Master," the young Luzu whispered.
It was Batubizee's turn to look surprised. "You serve the Master of Sinanju?" he demanded of Remo.
It was all Remo could do to hide his contempt. In an entire civilization of hunger and despair, it was apparent that Batubizee alone sat down at a full table every night.
"Feels like that a lot of the time," Remo replied, his eyes flat. "Right now I'm just looking for him." A chilly voice broke in from behind.
"You have found him, ungrateful one."
When Remo turned, he saw Chiun at the edge of the crowd, his wrinkled face cold. The wasted natives shrank from him in fear. Even Batubizee seemed anxious at the sight of the wizened Asian.
"Your servant has arrived, Master of Sinanju," the Luzu chief called.
From a distance, Chiun's narrowed eyes regarded Remo. "He is no servant of mine," the old man replied in loud and ominous tones.
Remo had hoped the tiny Korean hadn't carried back to Luzuland the baggage of their confrontation at the palace. But by the sounds of it, the old man was ready to sic the entire Luzu nation on Remo just to teach his pupil a lesson.
As Chiun stepped forward, the multitude parted. Not a ruffle appeared in the multicolored peacocks that were embroidered on his saffron robe. When he stopped before Remo, his hazel eyes were chips of flinty accusation.
"Could you cut me a break, Little Father?" Remo asked in a hushed tone. "I really need to talk to you."
An eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. Noting the troubled undertone in his pupil's voice, the Master of Sinanju's mouth thinned. He turned to Batubizee.
"He is much more than a mere servant," Chiun proclaimed. "I introduce to you my son, the current Apprentice and future Reigning Master of the House of Sinanju."
Batubizee shot a glance at Bubu. "He is white," he told Chiun, as if the old man could have somehow missed the fact.
"Only on the outside," Chiun assured him. "His blood is the blood of my ancestors."
"More or less," Remo cut in, irked at the racebaiting.
"Quiet," Chiun snapped in Korean. "Do not embarrass me in front of the Luzu." Whirling to the crowd, he threw his arms up high. Kimono sleeves slipped down, revealing bony arms. "Hear you now, children of Kwaanga! My son in spirit has come to your land to aid us in our fight against the wicked Mandobar!"
If he expected a cheer from the crowd, he never got one. The gathered Luzus regarded him with sickly silence tinged with latent fear.
"That's not exactly why I'm here," Remo suggested.
Before Chiun could caution him once more to still his tongue, Chief Batubizee raised his voice. "Why then have you come here, son of Chiun?" the Luzu chief asked, puzzled.
Remo regarded the bloated ruler with level eyes. "Assuming you're Batubizee, I was sent here to kill you," he said.
Beside him, Chiun's eyes saucered in shock. Bubu jumped protectively in front of the surprised chief. And all around the square, Luzu warriors raised their weapons menacingly.
His face bland, Remo scanned the angry crowd. "Of course, if this is a bad time, I could come back after supper."
TEN MINUTES LATER, Chiun had somehow convinced the entire Luzu nation that Remo was joking and didn't need to be killed. The two Masters of Sinanju had joined Batubizee and Bubu inside the chief's squalid home.
Chiun was thankful that Remo didn't comment on the tattered rug or the ragged silk pillows as the three oldest men sat on the floor. Bubu continued to stand, his gaze glued on Remo. He watched with neither malice nor mistrust. The young native was merely silently alert.
Remo noted an innate stillness to the guard even as Chiun continued to apologize for Remo's words of a few moments before.
"I promise you he meant nothing by it," the Master of Sinanju insisted. "Sometimes he speaks before his thoughts are fully formed."
"I do not understand." Chief Batubizee frowned. "Why would he say such a thing? Is your son an imbecile?"
"Hello? Sitting in the same room." Remo waved, irked.
Chiun ignored him. "No, he is not an imbecile," he said to the chief.
"Yes, you are an imbecile," he said more harshly to Remo in Korean.
"Little Father, I need to-"
Chiun cut him off with a sharply raised hand. "He is too busy attempting to solve the woes of a cruel and savage world to think clearly," he promised the chief. "But he apologizes if he has insulted you in any way. Is that not right, Remo?"
Remo's face was sour. "Yeah, that's right," he said. "Now can we get outta here?"