Journey West 5000

Chapter 13 - What a Good Follower!

The fur on the back of Wukong's neck stood straight up, as he sensed the barely leashed killing intent from Trip.

"Er... Mistress, I couldn't just let them insult you like that..."

"I'll deal with you later", said Trip, as she reached across the table to retrieve her revolver.

"Ah, please wait, Honoured Sister!" shouted the Abbot, as he hugged the revolver to his chest with both hands.

At a loss, Trip's hand paused in mid-air.

"Please, let us study your weapon for one night. Just one night! I swear on my life that it will be returned to you tomorrow morning!" pleaded the Abbot.

"Why should I allow it?" Trip's voice was like an icy blade. Her hand, stretched across the table, seemed more like razor sharp claws ready to tear through the Abbot in order to reclaim what was hers. Brother Broad Plans and Brother Broad Wisdom reflexively gulped in fear, as cold sweat erupted from their backs. Even the Abbot hunched his shoulders a bit, making it seem as though he was trying very hard not to curl into a ball for self-protection.

"Sister Trip, it may not seem like it, but we are under the yoke of the Crimson Army. We have to produce weapons for them, or face utter destruction! The way we are now, there is no way we could withstand even the first attack from the Lieutenant stationed here, the Black Wind Demon, and his army. But with your six-shot pistol, if every single Monk here was armed with it, we could hold off the army forever!"

"... very well. You will return it to me by dawn tomorrow."

There was no need to add an "or else". The threat, no, the promise of dire consequences was obvious in her voice.

"Please excuse us. I would like to retire for the night."

"Of course! Brother Broad Plans, please have someone show them to the guest quarters." said the Abbot in a tone so ingratiating that it caused the hairs on Trips arms to stand up.

Immediately, Brother Broad Plans pulled a cord on the wall that rang a bell, summoning a young monk to the door, to lead Trip and Wukong away.

Without another word, Trip followed the young monk out of the Abbot's quarters, through the cold stone corridors, down and up long flights of stairs towards the living quarters that Brother Mender had pointed out to them earlier. Not once did she even glance at Wukong, who followed along quietly behind her, head down, shoulders hunched, meek as a mouse.

On the way to the guest quarters, they passed by the living quarters of the monks. There were individual wooden huts, and also large barracks where double-decker beds arranged in rows could be seen through the windows.

At last, they arrived at a large wooden hut that was some distance away from the living quarters. It was larger and more ornate than the other individual, utilitarian-looking wooden huts they had seen. The roof and pillars were decorated with carvings of dragons, tigers, and bears. The back of the hut was facing a cliff, while around the front of the hut was an elegant sand and stone garden that gave a feeling of tranquility.

Unfortunately, that tranquility did nothing to promote any sense of serenity in Trip. Her expression was still that of a glacier trapping several thunderstorms.

The young monk had guided them all the way without daring to utter a single word. With lowered head, he indicated the door to the hut, bowed deeply, then quickly scurried away.

Pushing the door open, Trip saw a single room. On one side, there were two double-decker beds, with a footlocker each. On the other, there was a solid-looking wooden table with several wooden stools. On the table, was a jug filled with water, along with several earthenware cups. Along the walls, were several wooden shelves and cabinets.