Warren Murphy: The Seventh Stone

"A tribute withheld by Prince Wo as a sign that showed the power of his rule," Lee Wofan said softly.

"And for his arrogance and pride," Chiun said, "Master Pak, one lone man, banished a prince and his army and his court from the face of the civilized world."

"It is so," Wofan agreed. "Here. To this very island Prince Wo came."

There was a sweet sadness in Chiun's voice as he spoke again. "And it was only for words," he said. "A public acknowledgment that the prince recognized Master Pak's performance of his contract." He paused for a moment. The silence was absolute. "And because of that, so many have died," Chiun said.

"It is as you say," Lee Wofan said. "Our legacy has been a curse from Prince Wo the Wanderer. This curse has followed my family in all its branches for two thousand years. Now the curse will be lifted. For we, the family of Wo, now do publicly acclaim the work of the great Master Pak in aiding our ancestor Prince Wo. And we further affirm that the Masters of Sinanju are assassins without equal. In this age or any other."

Chiun bowed his deepest bow. "I, Chiun, reigning Master of the House of Sinanju, accept your tribute for myself and for all Masters, past, present, and yet to come."

"Accept it and more," said Lee Wofan. He stepped to one side and then all the gathered descendants of Wo parted to reveal the stone itself, the stone whose message-to wait until the House of Sinanju had two heads and then to separate and kill them-had failed and brought only more death to the House of Wo.

"Our feud is ended," Lee Wofan said. "Never again will we heed the words written on this stone. We wish to live in peace."

Chiun turned to smile at Remo, then walked through the crowd until he faced the stone.

His voice raised above the crowd, he intoned: "So be our conflict behind us. But never forget Prince Wo or his legend or the Masters of Sinanju who will from this time forward be your friends and allies in trouble. Go back to your lands and remember. For it is only through our memories that the greatness of the past lives on."

With that, Chiun thrust out his hand. Once, twice, thrice. The stone shattered into a million pieces that streaked skyward, wheeling arid dancing, crystal bright under the rising sun.

"Welcome home, children of Wo," Chiun said, then turned and walked off through the crowd. They dropped to their knees as he passed among them.