Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 182

“What did Wei mean by learning from your past mistakes, Kit?” I questioned out of the blue, using a needle
to stitch back the frayed edges of my cloak together.
“On my last expedition, a young boy with huge aspirations to be a general followed me into my room. He
managed to stay hidden for a month but got caught by one of the sailors,” Kit replied, his voice as bitter as
the curd. “I never saw him again.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “So are we headed towards Ceylon?”
“Yes, General Zheng will be making amends with King Alekeshvera there.” He stated. “Then, we will be
heading towards Champa if everything goes smoothly.”
In the middle of the night, I jolted awake to cannon shots and clanging metal. Instinctively, I wrapped the
black cloak around myself and scurried out of the room, hearing the dissonant clash of metal amplify as I
scampered out of the hallways.
I had no idea what had happened, but whatever amendments Zheng He attempted had resulted in conflict
and war between the Sinhalese. Hundreds of Sinhalese soldiers surrounded the fleets, their swords, spears
and shields gleaming menacingly under the full moon.
I wasn’t a fighter, but my eyes darted around with acute alert and attention as I searched for Kit. I did find
him, cornered at the ballast, his sword gleaming under the full moon. He brought it down against his
opponent’s spear, resulting in another dissonant clang. His opponent drew back his spear and sent his shield
crashing right towards Kit’s face. The sudden momentum knocked Kit off his feet, leaving him in a fetal
position.
With mustering grace, I leapt onto the ballast, my shoes cushioning a majority of the impact. As Kit stood
up, one of his eyes were swollen shut and blood dribbled out of his nose. He managed to parry another of
his opponent’s attacks, but his movements were becoming slower and less coordinated.
With a slash, his opponent had left a gash and pouring wound on his right shoulder blade. Kit cried out in
pain, his sword clattering to the ground. Spear raised, his opponent prepared to deliver the blow towards his
heart.
I contemplated my options quickly, before settling for one. Kit was my friend, and he had saved me on two
occasions. This time, I would help him, even if I would get injured along the way.
I bunched up my cloak and smothered his opponent, briefly distracting him. As he yanked off the cloak, I
dragged Kit out of the way, just in time to dodge his glinting spear. Fortunately, the spear grazed my skin
but didn’t do much damage otherwise. As Kit leaned against the edge of the ship, breathing heavily, I knew
that we couldn’t defeat him by force. Perhaps luring him overboard would work.
Wait. That was it. “I’ll lure him over here. You shove him off the ship once I dodge his attack.” This wasn’t
the best idea, but Kit nodded, trusting my strategy. Multiple menacing slashes interrupted my strategic
thinking and caused me to whip my head towards the noise. The opponent had shredded my cloak into
strips of black fabric, making it no longer wearable. Ignoring the sudden clench in my heart, I perched
myself on the edge of the ship, hoping that my reflexes would be able to dodge his impending blow.
My eyes momentarily widened as he brought the spear down on me. Then, the two of us were tumbling
downwards, scrambling to get a hold of the ship.
Kit caught my flailing arm just in time, grunting in exhaustion as he hauled me up. A splash followed soon
as my feet touched the ballast. Then, the Sinhalese generals yelled a few commands, and the army began to
retreat. We were safe, at least for now.