Warren Murphy: Skull Duggery

"What does it say?" Remo asked.

"It says, `Know, O hasty one, that the tortoise has more than one egg.' "

"What's that mean?"

Chiun's eyes suddenly lit up. He turned to the waiting circle of Mongol faces.

"To your steeds, sons of Temujin! We ride to Karakorum!"

The Mongols regarded the Master of Sinanju with identical metallic expressions.

"Why should we do this?" Kula asked in a reasonable voice.

"Because that is where the treasure truly lies!" Chiun hissed.

"You swore that it lay here, where we dig," Kula returned, unmoved.

"I was deceived!" Chiun flung back. "The Khagan was having a last jest on us all. We did not dig deep enough at Karakorum. It is there!"

The Mongols folded their arms stubbornly.

Remo stepped up. "Tell you guys what. We gotta get out of here before the PLA comes back. What say we ride up to" He turned to Chiun. "What did you say that name was?"

"Karakorum," Chiun muttered darkly.

"Karakorum," Remo repeated.

"To Karakorum with the white tiger!" the Mongols shouted.

They stampeded from the cave, forcing Chiun to float out of the way of their booted feet.

"I love Mongol enthusiasm, don't you?" Remo asked Chiun.

"Pah!" Chiun spat, storming from the cave.

"Guess you gotta know 'em to love 'em," he muttered happily.

Chapter 38

Elements of the People's Liberation Army made several abortive stabs at interdicting the Mongol column as it moved northward. Mongol war cries discouraged them. A snowstorm came up, rendering pursuing tanks useless. A few jeep forays ended in overturned jeeps with Mongol arrows feathering tires and Chinese bodies alike.

No Chinese had any stomach for a fight after that.

Chiun drew his horse up alongside Remo's.

"How did you learn to ride so quickly?" Chiun asked.

"Fahrvergnugen," Remo said coolly. Receiving no response, he asked, "You know, you led me on quite the merry chase this time."

"It was to protect you. And you did not do so badly, pale piece of tiger's ear."

Remo laughed. "Was Wu Ming Shi really two hundred years old?"

"It was closer to two hundred fifty, I understand. He was an evil man, but he knew many terrible secrets. Now they have died with him and a debt to the House of Sinanju has been finally settled in full."

"Too bad we lost Zhang," Remo said as the snow squall died.

Chiun shrugged. "Zhang's life was his to throw away."

"He went out a hero-which is more than I can say about Fang Yu." Remo's face was hard, his eyes bleak as chips of age-darkened bone.

"It is better to live, Remo," Chiun told him. "I could have been a so-called hero and eliminated Wu Ming Shi many years ago, but others would have suffered for it. Remember this if you ever face such a choice."

"Point taken. Listen, did you really do Amelia Earhart?"

Chiun nodded grimly. "It was during a time when Wu Ming Shi had no need of Sinanju. The Japanese were only a slightly less odious client."

"I can't believe you did that. She was an American hero."

"Heroes are destined for a young death. Remember this too."

"Yeah, well, when I'm head of the House, I won't stoop to taking that kind of work."

"It is too late, Remo. For you have already killed one who is a hero to some-although he was but a kung fu dancer."

Remo looked doubtful. "Who?"

"He was called Bruce. His last name escapes me, but years ago, he enjoyed some minor notoriety in absurd Chinese movies."

Remo blinked. "Not the chop-socky star?" he said hotly. "Little Father, that guy's been dead for years."

"No, he perished in the monastery. You knew him as Sagwa."

"Sagwa!" Remo snapped his fingers. "Wait a minute. The guy I'm thinking of got his acting start in a TV show called The Green Hornet back in the sixties. I remember watching it. Yeah, it comes back to me now. He played Kato, the chauffeur with the mask." Remo's eyes widened suddenly. "That so-called Chinese limo! It was the car Kato used to drive. Black Beauty."

"Black Ugly," Chiun sniffed.

"No wonder he looked familiar, even with the mask. And that's why I recognized the car." Remo stopped. "Oh, my God," he croaked. "I killed Kato."

"No," Chiun corrected. "We eliminated that upstart. For all Masters rightfully share in all credit."

"Trade you a chop-socky actor for an aviatrix?" Remo asked sheepishly.

Chiun beamed happily.

* * *

They linked up with Boldbator's Golden Horde outside of Sayn Shanda after nightfall.

An argument immediately broke out over rights to the treasure of Genghis Khan. Boldbator claimed ten percent. Kula claimed fifteen. Boldbator demanded of the Master of Sinanju why this Kula, a mere bandit, should get five percent more than he, who was the New Khan.

"Because I foolishly made a pact with him to carry the treasure away," Chiun said petulantly.

"But you made the same pact with me-for less."

"But he was at Five-Dragon Cave, not you."

"You commanded me to remain here," Boldbator thundered.

"I know that!" Chiun flared. "But how was I to know the treasure was not in Five-Dragon Cave after all? Oh, this is ridiculous." He turned to Remo in exasperation. "You were there, Remo. Explain it to this nomad."

"Don't look at me," Remo said, backing away. "He's not my Mongol."

The argument raged all day. War threatened to break out between the opposing camps, each claiming to be the ordained bearers of Temujin's treasure, until Remo took Chiun aside and said, "Look, how much of a percentage did you promise Zhang?"

"Half," Chiun whispered conspiratorially. "But only because it was his skull to start with."

"Fine, so if you cut Boldbator in for fifteen percent to match Kula's share, that's only thirty percent, right?"

Chiun eyes gleamed. "You are right, Remo. I am left with seventy percent for myself."

"Actually, sixty," Remo said.

"What do you mean?"

Remo wagged a finger in Chiun's face. "You forgot my ten percent. You made a big production of trying to give it to me back at the monastery. I have witnesses."

"All dead," Chiun retorted. "And I only said that to deceive Wu Ming Shi. Besides, I referred to the television show reward, not the magnificent treasure of Temujin."

"Hey, if I don't get my commission, I won't let my Mongols play with your Mongols. No happy jaunt to Karakorum."

"Then I will get eighty-five percent!" Chiun crowed.

"Not if my Mongols beat your Mongols to Karakorum," Remo pointed out. "That's a big group you got there, Little Father. All those camels and wagons and yurts. I don't think they can ride as fast as my guys."

Chiun pulled at his hair. "This is blackmail!" he shrieked.

"No, this is horse trading," Remo shot back. "I hear it's an honored Mongol tradition."

"What do you know of Mongols?" Chiun said indignantly.

"Not a lot," Remo said, gazing over the sea of felt tents spread before them. He grinned. "Maybe ten percent worth."

"Done," Chiun clucked glumly. "Now, let us set out for Karakorum."

Remo cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ai yah! Let's ride!" he shouted.

Dozens of Mongols jumped to their mounts like Sioux about to raid a rival village.

The rest looked to Chiun with the blank expressions of a sky full of yellow moons.

"Your turn," Remo said lightly. "I think these slow guys are yours."

Two days' ride later, they were camped on the plains of Karakorum. Mongol tools were prying up the earth's crust as Remo and Chiun, perched on the stone tortoise, watched over them.

"Ai yah!" The cry came from what had become a crater large enough to hold a three-ton meteor.

A rotting chest was passed from hand to hand until it was deposited at the Master of Sinanju's feet.

Chiun fell on it, flinging open the lid. His eyes widened at the piles of emeralds and rubies and pearls heaped within.