Read Tiger for Free Online Page A

flat on his back and Fu pounced, landing heavily on the man's chest. Fu's knees pinned the soldier's arms to the ground.
    The soldier's dark eyes widened.
    Fu swung both hook swords straight down in front of himself. The hooked ends of each blade dug deep into the earth on either side of the soldier's head, the hand-guard daggers stopping a hair's width above the soldier's throat. The soldier swallowed hard and his Adam's apple brushed against the very tip of one of the crescent-shaped daggers. A tiny stream of blood trickled down his neck.
    The soldier looked Fu in the eye and said, “I admit defeat. Please, warrior monk—take the scrolls and leave me with my life. I will then owe you a life. On my honor, I will never forget the debt.”
    Fu growled and thought how easy it would be to lean down upon the handles and release the man's spirit. But taking a life was far more difficult than he had imagined. The soldier offered not only what Fu sought but also a favor for the future. It seemed Fu would gain more by letting this man live than by destroying him.
    “Close your eyes!” Fu snarled.
    The soldier did as he was told.
    As soon as the man's eyelids met, Fu gripped both hook-sword handles with his left hand and released his right. He bent his right arm sharply and leanedforward, swinging his elbow across his body, over the crisscrossed swords. The point of his elbow struck the soldier in the left temple, knocking the man out cold.
    Fu took a deep breath and stood. He leaned the handles of the hook swords onto the man's chest, leaving the crescent daggers dangerously close to the man's neck. Then he yanked the man's thick braid out of his sash and removed three dragon scrolls. Fu took the fourth scroll from the soldier's limp hand.
    Fu concealed the scrolls securely within the folds of his own robe and looked down at Sing's tiger hook swords still lying over the soldier's throat. Those hook swords were fine weapons, but they were very difficult to transport. Fu decided to leave them in their current position to help remind the soldier of his promise.
    His mission accomplished, Fu ran for the main gate—and into the worst surprise of the entire night.

F u stopped running just short of the main gate. Something didn't feel right. He stared through the smoky moonlight—up, down, forward, back, left, right.
    Nothing.
    Feeling like he had no time to waste, Fu took several steps backward, then shot forward. After six long strides, he was at top speed. On his seventh, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. By then, it was too late.
    Someone dove out from behind one of the gates and smashed headlong into him. Together they tumbled into the grass, and Fu managed to break loose of the fierce grip on his robe only by biting hisopponent's arm. Fu sprang to his feet, and his opponent did the same. It was Ying.
    Ying's carved face grimaced as he slipped his hand up one of his oversize sleeves and rubbed his arm.
    “Where are you going in such a hurry, Pussycat?” he asked.
    “As far away from you as possible,” Fu replied, spitting out the words along with the horrible taste in his mouth.
    Ying smiled. “Why spend your life running? Join me. I could use someone as feisty and fierce as you.”
    “Never.”
    Ying leaned forward and his black eyes sparkled. “Come on, Fu. Join me, and your rice bowl will always be overflowing. You'll never have to sweep another floor again, or wash somebody else's dirty socks. In my world, warriors are at the top of the food chain, not the bottom. What else are you going to do? Especially now that Grandmaster is gone.”
    Fu glared at Ying.
    “That's right,” Ying said. “Grandmaster is dead. I released his soul just a few moments ago.”
    Fu's eyes narrowed. “You're lying.”
    “Do you honestly think I would be standing here if he were still breathing?”
    Fu shuddered like a cat thrown in an icy river.
Ying is probably telling the truth,
he thought.
Ying never left anything