Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 27

Upon hearing this, the King roared, “Enough from the clown!” He slammed the table, threw the parrot on
the floor, and pointed at Zheng He, “You think you can steal from us and just walk away?!” then
commanded the native soldiers, “Grab that man now!”
Two native soldiers grabbed Zheng He by his stocky arms and dragged him away. His guards were disarmed
immediately, and Ma Huan too, who pulled out an anlace. There were screams and shouts in hall. Some of
Zheng He’s crew tried to escape, but all of them were grabbed by the guards, who cuffed the crews’ hands
together and thrusted their heads against the table. Plates, food bits, soups, and sauce crumpled or slipped
against the hard ground.
Before the King could continue, an Arab envoy picked up the damaged letter, then declared, “Your
Majesty, why are you getting so angry at this letter? It’s been translated incorrectly by Rama Kushna!”
A silence hung about in the room as the envoy, who was now sitting down on his chair, continued,
“The letter means that, they want to perform trade with our country.” Another advisor then came over and
confirmed it. “What did you just say?” the King turned his head around to face the foreign envoy.
There was silence for a minute or two. The silence was broken by the King’s muttering.
He spoke quietly,“I am extremely sorry for this, but there has been a terrible mistake here.” He raised his
voice and roared, “Where is Rama Kushna?!” He pointed sharply at an empty chair.
He then realized that Rama Kushna had already dashed out the doors, leaving crumbs and smudges of his
overturned food lying on the ground. Guards stormed out the doors, and all they saw was some rumbling of
the trees, and then nothing.
The King muttered slowly, “It’s too late. The bastard could be gone miles away.” He paused. The men
placed a shocked Zheng He back on his seat.
Zheng He signalled his men to carry over a trunk with a cover of silk. Zheng He swished the blanket of silk
off and opened the trunk. In the dying light of the moon, the tall porcelain vase showed off its smooth
curves and intricate coloring.
“We have brought to you, O King, a selection of our finest vases from the Ming Empire..” Zheng He
smiled grandly.
On this large chunk of land, which we now know as Calicut, legend among local people speaks of a strange
event many years ago...