Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 217

“Who is this?”
“A priestess for the goddess of the sea.”
“Will she be able to heal my sick daughter?”
“That depends on the will of my goddess.”
For a moment, the two said nothing, merely looking at each other; the Zamorin sizing her up, and the girl
returning it with an almost blank stare. Then, the king threw his head back and laughed.
“Such bravery! Very well, bring her to the back. Along with the captain,” He pointed at the admiral, who
looked confused as the whole conversation was but a myriad of sounds and strange words being exchanged.
Nevertheless, he understood the simple gesture, and followed a guard to the back of the palace, where stairs
led to higher floors.
“This is my daughter, who is suffering from some unknown disease.” The pair was led into a chamber
which smelled heavily of incense. There was a bed within, veiled with thick red curtains. The Zamorin
continued sombrely, “Medicine-men had come far and wide, but none could help her. If you could spare
your powers…”
Without waiting for him to finish, the young girl had already approached the bed and pulled away the
curtains, revealing a young woman in deep sleep. She had long, flowing dark hair laid out on the pillow,
and eyelashes that brushed against her dark skin as her chest rose and fell with each breath. The priestess
examined her for some moments, before withdrawing and turning to Zheng He.
“Do you have any medicine with you now?” She asked in Chinese, as the king and his advisor looked on
keenly.
“Some grinded herbs, but why – ”
“Give them to me, please.”
Unwillingly, the admiral reached into his bag and took out a silk pouch, which he gave her. Taking it, the
priestess asked for some water, into which she poured the herbs and told the servants to heat. “After she
drinks this, she will be healed.”
The Zamorin was sceptical, but nonetheless handed the concoction to the doctor standing next to the
patient’s bed, who reassured him that it would be checked for poison and any other dangerous substances.
And so, with the royal physician’s reassurance, the king left with his visitors and advisors back into court.
Before long, it was night again. The king had welcomed his men joyously into the palace and proposed for
them to stay a night as a token of thanks, for which the crew was grateful. Zheng He, being the admiral, was
of course equally grateful, and thanked the king for providing accommodation for his men as well as for
himself.
As he was about to go to bed, there was a knock at his door. He walked to the door hesitantly, before
throwing it open and gaped.