Barry Hughart - The Story of the Stone

The Golden Girl stepped from behind one of the screens of falling water accompanied by a young man, and Grief of Dawn forgot protocol completely and let out a squeal of joy and ran toward him. The young man whooped happily and met her halfway, and the two of them blended together in an embrace so tight that I had the impression of a single body with two heads. I assume that my complexion was bright green, and the grinding of my teeth was probably audible in Soochow.

Nobody had any right to look like Moon Boy, who was the handsomest man in the whole world. In addition, he would have put a peacock to shame. He wore a purple cap embroidered with gold and trimmed with jewels. Circling his forehead was a silver band with the same phoenix-dragon motif as Grief of Dawn's clasp, and the same names were probably interlocked on the back. Around his neck was a golden chain twisted in the form of coupling snakes, and his dark red tunic was embroidered with bright flowers and butterflies. The tunic was secured by a belt woven into a design of flower stems and ears of corn, and over the tunic he wore a blue satin cloak fringed with gold. His gold-embroidered shoes were also of blue satin, and the maddening thing was that none of the finery was overdone. Moon Boy was all of a piece, and the only thing missing was applause. The damned creature was destined to ride through the world in a shower of rose petals while Number Ten Ox pitched manure in a barnyard.

They finally broke apart. The king gestured. Moon Boy led Grief of Dawn up to the throne, and with great gentleness the King of Chao reached down and picked up first Moon Boy and then Grief of Dawn and placed them upon his vast lap.

“What charming children you are,” he said. He kissed Moon Boy's cheek. “This is the most special of all my special people, and clearly he shares his soul with Grief of Dawn. Why should that be?” He gently tilted Grief of Dawn's chin and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you special too, my child?” For a long time he studied her, and then he said, almost whispering, “Yes. In you is something very like the strange inner core of Moon Boy, although he is not properly named. He is more like the sun, and it is you who are more like the moon. One cannot look directly at the sun without being blinded, so wise men study the sun by looking at the moon.”

The king suddenly smiled, and it was breathtaking. His smile was as open and spontaneous as that of a child, but there was a strange hint of yearning and melancholy to it, and he delicately lifted her free hair and replaced the clasp.

“Would you like to wear a uniform of sable and carry a golden bow?” he asked softly. Then he chuckled. “That is not a fair question, of course, and you are not forced to reply. None of our girls has ever been forced. Grief of Dawn, we want you, but we shall court you as we have courted all the others, and the decision will be yours alone to make.”

He effortlessly picked up both of them and placed them back upon the floor. His eyes moved to Master Li.

“Even this humble orphan has heard of the astonishing Li Kao, whose achievements are said to be without limit,” the king said graciously. “There is much we would like to discuss with you, and we look forward to the enlightenment of your wisdom. One day you may even confide in us the real purpose of your visit, but there is no hurry. You have brought us Grief of Dawn, for which we are deeply grateful. She shall be our honored guest, and may your own visit be a long one.”

A flick of a royal finger dismissed us. We bowed backward from the throne room. The chamberlain directed us back to our suite, where a splendid repast was waiting.

“Master Li, did he mean what I thought he meant?” I asked.

“That Grief of Dawn and I have just joined his collection of special people? I hope so,” Master Li said cheerfully. “Well, my love, are you ready for gold and sable?”

Grief of Dawn blushed and lowered her eyes. “What an extraordinary man,” she whispered.

I didn't realize just how extraordinary the king was until late that night. I awoke just after the third watch. Musical instruments were playing somewhere. I slipped into my tunic and stumbled out to the central room, yawning and rubbing my eyes, and I discovered that Grief of Dawn had heard it also and was standing at the window overlooking a garden.

It was the Golden Girls. Instead of bows they carried lutes and pipes, and they played very well. Then a great dark shape moved from the shadows, and the King of Chao stepped out into the bright moonlight. He was absolute monarch. He could take whatever he wanted, but that wasn't his way. Even at a distance I could sense that he was enjoying himself immensely, and he bowed deeply toward Grief of Dawn's bedchamber and then turned to face the moon. The king placed the big toe of his right foot upon the big toe of his left foot and began to sing a love charm from the barbaric country of his birth.

I can't explain it, but it was one of the most impressive things I have ever seen and heard in my life.

His majesty flapped his arms, imitating some sort of bird, and began to dance with grace that was accentuated by his huge bulk. There was nothing funny about it. He was like a vast force of nature, totally incapable of making a fool of himself.

Three times the song charm was repeated, and then his majesty bowed again toward Grief of Dawn's bedchamber. The Golden Girls also bowed. Then the king and his girls were gone, blending into the shadows, and I suppose that my face was rather expressive. How many young women are courted by a huge, powerful, infinitely courteous and gentle, yet infinitely barbaric monarch? Sable and gold awaited Grief of Dawn, not to mention an impossibly handsome young man named Moon Boy.

“Oh, Ox. Poor Ox,” Grief of Dawn said softly.

Her hand slipped into mine. “Come and walk with me, come and sit with me, come and sleep and share my pillow,” she whispered.

“Cluck-cluck!” I said.

There are mornings one would prefer to forget.

This one began beautifully, with sunlight sliding through the window and dappling Grief of Dawn's lovely shoulder. I nuzzled her cheek and listened to the lethargic buzz of lazy flies, and a drowsy drone of bees, and the curtains gently rustling in a whispering breeze, and a happy voice that bellowed, “Come back here, you little bugger!”

I sat bolt upright.

“Oh, damn,” Grief of Dawn sighed plaintively.

A naked boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, raced past the window on the veranda.

“Hey, bugger, don't you want the plugger snugger?” the happy voice yelled.

“Ten million curses,” Grief of Dawn groaned, smothering a yawn.

A naked young man galloped past the window after the boy, stopped, trotted back, and stuck his head inside the room.

“Good morning, my love!” Moon Boy said cheerfully.

“Why must you waste that thing on boys?” she said.

He glanced down complacently at his crotch. “Waste? What do you mean waste? You know very well that some of the little darlings can't sit down for a month.” Moon Boy climbed through the window and sauntered up to the bed. “My, you've certainly picked a splendid specimen this time. Congratulations!”