Sir Harold and the Monkey King, Part II

SIR HAROLD AND THE MONKEY KING

Part 2 of 4

Christopher Stasheff

"Travel by cloud isn't all that bad, really, Doc," Shea said bravely, "once you get used to the idea that it's a magic cloud, and a lot more like an innerspring mattress than a patch of fog."

"Perhaps," Chalmers groaned, "but I didn't think to bring my Dramamine."

Then they were both crying out in alarm, as the cloud tilted down sharply. A few seconds later, Monkey hopped off, crying: "Master! Forgive me!" and the cloud disappeared completely, dropping Shea and Chalmers with a very unceremonious thump. Shea pushed himself upright, massaging an aching sacroiliac, and saw a young man in a saffron robe sitting cross-legged—no, in the lotus position, without the slightest sign of discomfort! He looked a little nervous, and he had a robe of a rich red in his lap, with a matching hat that had a band of gold around its rim.

Monkey was bowing deeply before the monk. "I have erred, Master, in presuming to refute your teaching! If this is the Way of the Buddha, I shall learn it! Only forgive, and be patient with me!"

The young man nodded gravely. "You are forgiven easily, Monkey, for Buddha's mercies are manifold. In recognition of your spiritual progress, I give you this robe and hat, as signs of your advancement."

Shea frowned—how had Tripitaka known Monkey was going to be coming back? He was about to raise the issue, but Monkey caught up the red robe with a glad cry and pulled it on, strutting to and fro. "How well it looks on me! And just the right length, not quite to my knees! Master, you are a genius of observation!" He grabbed the hat and clapped it on. "Now! Do I not look like a king?"

"Like a jester!" Tripitaka's tone was suddenly stern. "You prance and caper with vanity! Really, Monkey, if I had known you would behave so..."

That was as far as he got before Monkey turned on him with a roar, charging with his cudgel held high.

Tripitaka shouted out some words that Shea could not catch at all.

Monkey stopped dead in his tracks, howling in agony. He fell on the ground, tugging at the cap. "Take it off! Take it off! It binds about my temples like a clamp! It sends agonies through my brain! It will break my head!" The cloth ripped away, but the headband remained and would not budge.

Tripitaka only waited, face impassive.

"It was enchanted!" Shea gasped.

Chalmers nodded. "A trap!"

"Forgive me, Master!" Monkey cried. "I was wrong to lose my temper, to turn against you! I apologize!"

"Will you swear to do whatever I tell you?" Tripitaka demanded.

"I swear, I swear!" Monkey cried. "I will obey you in all things! I will never lift my hand against you! Only make the agony stop, Master, make the agony stop!"

Tripitaka gestured, reciting another short verse which somehow eluded Shea completely.

Monkey sagged with relief. "Thank you, Master! Oh, thank you! Where did you get that wondrous hat?"

"From the Bodhissatva Kuan-Yin," Tripitaka answered.

"From Kuan-Yin! But she is the Goddess of Mercy!"

"Of mercy, certainly—but the Taoists are mistaken in thinking she is a goddess. She is a Bodhissatva, a person who has attained Enlightenment but postponed passing to Nirvana so that she may guide and instruct those of us here on Earth."

"Oh yes, Master! A Bodhissatva, not a goddess! Of course, Master!"

"But she is, as you say, the patron of mercy," Tripitaka rejoined, "so you can be sure that she must have a merciful reason, for so binding you to my authority."

Monkey stilled, half-risen. Then he lifted his head. "Perhaps it is even as you say, Master. In any event, I have sworn to obey you, and I will."

"It is well." Tripitaka looked massively relieved.

"Why, he was as loath to hurt Monkey, as he was afraid of him," Chalmers hissed to Shea.

Shea nodded. "Exceptional young man, here. Maybe one of the ones who justified monasticism."

Tripitaka looked up, alert. "Who are these you have brought to join us, Monkey?"

Monkey looked up at Shea with blood in his eye. No, not blood—the little monster's orbs were actually beginning to glow with fire! "These? Why, they are the barbarian sorcerers who persuaded me to return to you, Master! This one is Xei, and that one is Chao-mar-zi."

Shea did a double take, but Chalmers only opened his eyes a little wider, then bowed politely. He had become accustomed to hearing his name mispronounced.

"They have a strange appearance." Tripitaka frowned. "But they must be wise, even magical, if they could have persuaded you. What did you tell him, barbarians?"

The "barbarians" was beginning to chafe on Shea, but he tried to ignore it. "Just a parable showing him the virtues of patience and respect for authority, Your Highness."

"I am only a monk now," Tripitaka protested. "I have forsworn worldly titles with all other vanities. If you are so wise and patient as that, I doubt not that you would be a great help on our quest. Do you wish to learn the Way of Buddha?"

"Well, actually, we were just visiting," Shea said. "We're trying to track down Dr. Chalmers' wife, you see, and Monkey tells us he found her and sent her further on her way. So if you'll just send us to the same place, Monkey...."

"Nay." Monkey bared his teeth, but Shea could not have said whether it was a snarl or a grin. "I find I have taken a liking to your company."

"But my wife!" Chalmers cried.

"If you aid us in coming to India," Monkey said, "I will gladly send you to the place where she is—when we have found the stupa that holds the Three Baskets."

"But the time!" Chalmers cried. "Months may have elapsed!"

"Years," Monkey corrected, enjoying his discomfiture.

"Years! But any number of things could have happened to her in that much time! She could have fallen prey to bandits, been enslaved, or..." Chalmers swallowed heavily. "...fallen in love with another man!"

"Monkey!" Tripitaka intoned severely.

"Oh, all right!" Monkey said, disgusted. "When we have attained our goal, I will send you not only to the land where she is, but to the time at which she arrived there! Will that suit you?"

Shea goggled. "How can you do that?"

"Magic," Monkey said, all teeth. "Will it satisfy you?"

Shea looked at Chalmers, who gave him a frantic nod, then turned to Monkey with a sigh. "Why, sure, Monkey—anything you say. Which way is India?"

India was south and west, of course, and they did take a long time on the road. It seemed considerably longer because, though Tripitaka had a horse to ride, the rest of them were expected to walk, in spite of Monkey's knack with magical clouds. Shea kept trying to console himself, and Chalmers, with the spectacular scenery they were seeing, but their enthusiasm was somewhat dampened by the encounters they had along the way. For example, fairly early on, they started to cross a river, but wound up running away from the dragon that surged out of the waters. Everybody got to safety except Tripitaka's horse, which the dragon gobbled up as an hors d'oeuvre, then turned his attention to the rest of the band, intent on a five-course banquet. Monkey killed his appetite with a running fight, but had to go to Kuan-Yin for help. She changed the dragon into the spit and image of the horse he had gobbled up, and commanded him to go with the expedition, to help protect Tripitaka. Monkey almost forgave the Goddess for that.

Kuan-Yin had been foresighted, it seemed—she had sent ahead two spirits who had sinned against the Jade Emperor of Heaven, commanding them to wait for the Pilgrim Monk, then to accompany him, protect him, and learn the Way of the Buddha from him. The first had been locked into the form of a humanoid pig for his sins; his favorite weapon was an iron muckrake, and he and Monkey had an epic running battle before Monkey finally thought to mention whom he was protecting, whereupon Pigsy surrendered and joined up for the duration.

The other monster was an even harder case. They met him at the River of Flowing Sands, where he was accustomed to collect travelers trying to cross the river and having them for lunch. He was an Expressionistic monster who wore the skulls of his nine victims around his neck. Even with Chalmers' and Shea's magic assisting Monkey and Pigsy, they could barely fight the monster to a draw. Shea volunteered to keep the monster preoccupied while Monkey went for help.

Shea managed to get the monster involved in a philosophical discussion about whether or not he was a cannibal. Shea's case was that eating human beings made him a cannibal, but the monster replied that since he was not strictly human, the people he had been eating were not his own kind, so he was only a carnivore.

Meanwhile, Monkey went to ask help of Kuan-Yin. She came and converted the monster, who was a fallen spirit like Pigsy. He repented, swore off eating people, and joined the expedition, transforming himself into the likeness of a human being. Since he was the Monster of the River of Flowing Sands, they nicknamed him Sandy. He became a pious monk and a vicious infighter.

Meanwhile, they had been travelling farther and farther south, and though they were not near the foothills of the Himalayas yet, they had travelled much farther west. Shea could tell how far south they had gone by the heat and the size of the mosquitoes.

"You can tell the physics of this universe are magical," he grumbled as he lay down on a straw pallet in the guest room of the monastery at which they had just arrived. "Something that big could never fly, where we come from."

"Come, now, Harold," Chalmers sighed. "They're not nearly as bad as some of the nurses who take blood samples at the Institute."

"Bad! Doc, have you looked at these critters? Ever since we crossed the border into this Kingdom of Crow-Cock, they've been like Dracula in insect form! The last one that buzzed my ear was the size of a B-29!"

"Then if we need to fly," Chalmers sighed, "we can just borrow their wings. Do go to sleep, Harold."

"Why? So they don't have to deal with a moving target?"

"Oh, be still, Xei," said Monkey. "Be glad you have the roof and walls of the Treasure Wood Temple about you tonight, rather than the grasses of a riverbank."

"It's all right for you to say," Shea growled. "They can't get their needles into your granite hide."

"If the Master can bear it, so can you."

"Tripitaka? I don't see him in here. He's a full-fledged monk, after all—he gets better quarters."

"You think the Zen Room is more comfortable? You forget that he is sitting in meditation all night."

"Oh, is that what he's doing?"

"Yes—just sitting," Monkey sighed. "Good night, Xei."

"Oh, good night," Shea griped. He cast a last accusing glare at the snoring bulk of Pigsy and Sandy, mere outlines in the gloom, then closed his eyes and tried for sleep.

"Wizard Xei!"

Shea sat bolt upright, his heart hammering. "Who the hell... ?"

"Closer than you think," the visitor snapped.

He was tall, severe, and drenched from head to toe. In fact, the water was running off him and pooling on the teak floor.

Shea reached for his sword and dagger and came slowly to his feet with both on guard. "Monkey! Pigsy! Sandy! Doc! We've got company!"

But the forms of his companions lay still in the moonlight, except for the slow rise and fall of breathing. Shea realized that he could not even hear Pigsy's snores.

"They will not hear you," the wet man said impatiently. "Now tell me—where is your master?"

"I have no master—I'm a free man."

"Do not bandy words with me, slave!" the man shouted. "Tell me the whereabouts of your master, and that quickly!" The apparition stepped closer.

Shea brandished his sword. "Hold it! Cold steel, remember?" He hoped that what worked on European elves might work for Chinese haunts.

Apparently not. Contemptuously, the man stepped right up to let the tip of Shea's sword disappear inside him. "Now tell me—where is the monk!"

Shea felt a chill pass over him—he knew which monk the man meant, but was not about to give any clues. "We're in a monastery. There are a lot of monks—just take your pick."

"Fool!" the man shouted, and swung a back-handed blow at Shea's head. Shea ducked and lunged—and stumbled straight into the apparition. There was a gust of icy wind; then he straightened up, to find himself facing the man's glowing back.

Slowly, the apparition turned, glaring. "What manner of monk are you, who bears a sword?"

"Not a monk at all," Shea said bravely, "just a traveler who has decided to join a holy man and his disciples for mutual protection."

"Yes! That is he—the Pilgrim Monk!" The apparition's eyes lit, glowing in the dark. "That is whom I spoke of! Where is he?"

Shea's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know?"

"Insolent cur!" the man shouted. "Vile peasant!"

"That really makes me want to help you," Shea said slowly.

"Fool!" the spirit raged, and swung a back-handed blow at him. Shea knew it would not hurt, but by sheer reflex, he fell back out of the way and rolled—and heard Monkey saying: "Xei! What troubles you!"

"Him!" Shea pushed himself up on one elbow, jabbing out a forefinger—and found he was pointing at empty space. He blinked, stupefied. "He was there, I tell you! He was there!" Then he sagged. "It must have been a dream."

"Why, then, tell it to me, and I will tell you the meaning of it." Monkey sat down beside him, looking grave.

Shea looked up with a weak smile. "I thought that was supposed to be my line."

"As you will. But who was it whom you saw in this dream?"

"A wet man! Sopping wet, from head to toe! He wanted to know where Tripitaka was, but I wouldn't tell him!"

"Sopping wet?" Monkey raised his head, eyes glowing. "How was he dressed?"

"In silken robes, and he had a funny sort of hat on his head."

"A king, then," Monkey said. "Did he strike you when you would not tell him?"

"Yeah. And he stepped right onto my sword, too—it went into his chest by a foot, at least, but he just kept on threatening me."

"A ghost," Monkey said with conviction, "the ghost of a king who died by drowning. And he wanted the Master, you say?"

A hoarse scream echoed down the hall.

Monkey was out the door like a shot. Shea followed, yelling: "Pigsy! Sandy! Doc! It's Tripitaka!"

Pigsy and Sandy passed him halfway down the hall.

He swerved in through the door of the Zen Room, to find Tripitaka seated in lotus with his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Monkey knelt by him, Pigsy and Sandy a little farther off. "He was wet through," Tripitaka was moaning.

"Yes, but he is gone now, Master," Monkey soothed. "Lift your head and look about you, so that you may see there are none here but your disciples and friends."

"I know, I know," Tripitaka moaned, lifting his head. "I saw him leave, I saw him go!"

"Then you know there is no further cause for alarm," Monkey assured him. "Tell us the tale from its beginning, then—it will purge it from your mind and heart."

"There is truth in that." Tripitaka composed himself, sitting up ramrod straight again. "I meditated long, but about the middle of the night, I must have lapsed into a doze—for I saw a man come in through the door. Thinking him to be one of the monks, I kept silent, and he came to me and demanded, 'Are you the Pilgrim Monk?' Now I began to be afraid, for I could see the night-lamp through him, and saw that his garments were soaked—indeed, that water ran off him to pool on the floor, and I knew I was in the presence of a ghost of one who had died by drowning. Still, I took courage from the thought of Buddha's serenity and replied, 'I am. Who are you?'

" 'I am the rightful King of Crow-Cock,' he answered, 'and he who sits on my throne now is a usurper, and my murderer.'

" 'That is surely a grievous crime,' I answered, though I was far more shaken than I would let him see. 'How could he have done this to you?'

" 'Because he was my Prime Minister,' the ghost answered. 'One day, as we were walking in the garden near the well, he suddenly pushed me in, then changed himself into my exact duplicate—and thus did I discover that he was a sorcerer. When he was sure I had drowned, he took my throne, commanded that the well be covered and hidden, and took over the rule of my kingdom.' "

"What a horrible tale!" Pigsy cried. "Out upon this sorcerer! We must revenge the rightful king!"

"We do not speak of revenge, disciple, we who follow the Noble Eight-fold Path," Tripitaka said sternly, and Pigsy shrank back. "Even as you say, Master."

But Tripitaka was looking troubled again. "There is the worst part of it, though, Monkey—for the ghost of the King implored me to help him in his revenge!"

"Asked a monk to help in revenge?"

"Yes. He asked me to tell his son the truth of his father's death. Once convinced, the prince will be sure to revenge him." Tripitaka buried his face in his hands, "Revenge! How can I, a priest of Buddha, condone revenge?"

"Be easy in your heart, Master," Monkey soothed again. "Did you not perform a similar deed, in righting the wrong of your own father's death?"

Tripitaka stilled, then lifted his head slowly. "There was justice in that, not revenge—the punishment of a murderer and regicide. But you speak truly, Monkey—here too we find a situation that cries out for justice, does it not?"

"With the voice of the poor and the starving," Monkey agreed.

"Yes, even as in my own country. The usurper, of course, did not have the Mandate of Heaven, and so the land suffered under his rule. The fields would not bear crops; the woods were filled with bandits. The people starved."

"But this usurper has been enthroned for only three years," Monkey protested, "and already, as we came into Crow-Cock, we have seen one deserted village and several barren fields! We traversed a wild forest, which lies only half a league from this very temple—and as we passed through it, we were attacked by bandits and had to fight them off—which is much more difficult when we must try not to kill them, I can tell you! Truly, Master, the land has begun to suffer under the usurper! If you do not wish that suffering to extend to the people, if you aspire to justice in any way, you must help this poor drowned ghost—the more so since all he asks of you is to tell his story to his son!"

"Not as easy as it sounds," Shea put in. "What would you say if somebody told you the man on the throne was an imposter? He looks the same, he sounds the same, but he isn't the real thing. If you believe that, let me tell you about a piece of land you might want to buy...."

Tripitaka looked up, frowning, but Monkey said: "The point is well taken. How shall you prove the truth of what you say?"

"The King left that behind." Tripitaka pointed.

They all turned to look and saw something white on the floor by the wall in a puddle of water. Gingerly, Sandy picked it up by thumb and forefinger, and brought it to lay at Tripitaka's feet, shuddering. "There is the feel of death about it."

It was a white jade tablet, inscribed with columns of Chinese characters.

"This was his, and his alone," Tripitaka told them, "and he was never without it. He assured me that if his son can see it, he will know that whoever bears it, speaks truth."

"That should be convincing," Shea said, though he had his doubts. "How do we get to the prince, though?"

"The drowned king told me that tomorrow, his son will go hunting in the forest," Tripitaka said.

"And it is only half a league away." Monkey gazed off into space, musing.

"I hope you're not thinking of taking Tripitaka into the woods to try to ambush the prince," Shea said.

"Truly?" Monkey looked interested. "Wherefore not, Xei?"

"Credibility," Shea answered. "Would you pay any attention to some nut who jumped out of a bush and cried, 'Your father's really dead—that guy who's sitting on the throne is just a delusion!' Would you, really?''

Tripitaka nodded slowly. "But how else am I to speak with him?"

"Let us bring him to you. If he comes in this door and sees you sitting here, calm and cool, he's going to be thinking of you as a sage, not a wild-eyed hermit."

"But it is not fitting!" Tripitaka protested. "It is a violation of protocol!"

"Why? You're a prince, too, you know."

"Yes, but I have forsworn such worldly vanities, Xei, as I keep telling you!"

"Those worldly vanities, unfortunately, can be rather necessary when you're dealing with worldly people," Shea said.

"Even so! Even if I were to tell him my rank—I am the visitor in his kingdom, not he in mine! It is fitting that I come to him, not him to me!"

"Fitting, but totally impractical. He'll have a dozen retainers around him, and you can be sure every single one of them will be loyal to the current king, and eager to ingratiate himself by reporting every word the prince says."

"The barbarian speaks truth, Master," Pigsy said. "Let us bring the prince to you."

Tripitaka glanced at his brutish face, and his eyes widened in alarm, but Monkey only grinned. "Not all of us, Master—only me."

TO BE CONTINUED…