—217 BC, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

 

The two-masted junk rocked up and down, tossed by the waves like a child’s toy. It floated helplessly in the pitch-black night, lashed by the stormy winds and whipped by the stinging rain. The nine surviving sailors were all on deck, trying in vain to regain control of the ship.

“Fai Che, keep her steady as she goes! Ease her to windward! Bear east!” shouted Cho Li over the roaring gale. Fai Che, a young man with no experience in steering, pulled hard on the helm in response.

“Chang, Chao! What are you doing? Move your asses, you fools! Furl the jib!”

Both rushed toward the bow just as Cho Li bellowed, “Watch out!”

An enormous mass of water surged onto the deck, sweeping away everything in its path. Cho Li was flung backward and hit his head on the foremast as Chang and Chao landed on top of him, smashing into his stomach and legs. A second later, they sprang up and lunged forward again. Cho Li rose slowly, doubled over in pain. He staggered and grabbed a rope dangling from the mast.

“Dragon’s egg,” he spat through clenched teeth, “I’ve had enough of this journey!”

Desperate and dizzy, he rubbed his head and went down to the mess deck, where he collapsed on the long table. It was pitch dark inside. The ship heaved and plunged, creaking and shuddering as if she would burst apart at any moment. Cho Li’s head was spinning. He moaned, grabbed his temples with both hands, anchored his elbows firmly against the table, and closed his eyes.

It had been about three moons since they had lost the rest of the flotilla, and their situation was worsening with each passing day. His thoughts drifted back to the past…

Dragon’s Wing consisted of eighty sailors and about two hundred boys and girls. The ship was part of the Xu Fu fleet that had set sail two years before for the legendary Seven Islands in search of the Elixir of Life. The expedition comprised about sixty ships, manned by thousands of sailors and carrying teenage virgins, both boys and girls. Their mission was to find the so-called Immortal Mountain, full of everlasting creatures, and gather herbs that only grew there. Afterward, they were to take the plants to the emperor’s magicians, who would mix them and cast the incantations to create the elixir of immortality or the so-called Elixir of Life.

The start of the journey had been fantastic, with several weeks of blue skies, calm sea, and a festive mood. The hold was full of food and livestock—mainly fowl, goats, and pigs, so they had nothing to worry about. There was even a cage with live snakes, which the priest used when he performed his religious rituals. Occasionally, they stopped at some remote island to resupply with fresh water and fruits, or simply to stretch their legs a bit.

But even then, far before the peaceful voyage had come to an abrupt end, and all hell broke loose, Cho Li knew that something was wrong.

First, nobody knew for sure the location of the Seven Islands, so the sailors had only a vague idea where they were going, relying on myths, rumors, and legends about the place.

Second, all those youngsters got on Cho Li’s nerves with their noisy capriciousness. He agreed, of course, with the concept that the plants for the elixir had to be gathered only by virgins, as they were supposed to be the purest of human beings. The problem was, he strongly doubted that most of the passengers were as pure as they claimed to be.

“Maidens, my eye,” he muttered, and spat at the floor. He knew at least three girls who were not virgins at all; he had personally seen to that himself in the hold’s darkness, and, considering the rumors and hints overheard here and there, he suspected that half of the sailors had done the same. There were so many skirts onboard and so eager at that. Now, he couldn’t help but ask himself if this fornication had not been the reason for all their misfortunes. After all, it had all started when he was doing his third victim, that pussy with big, pouty lips and raven black hair. He remembered the girl below him, lying on her back on sacks of rice, her dress above her legs, her white thighs gleaming in the gloom. She moaned, his hand on her mouth to muffle the sounds, and he passionately kissed her sweaty, childish face while his little prick wiggled inside her, thrusting in and out faster and faster, when a mighty quake rolled them both over.

Shouts and footsteps pounded on the deck above, and the big gong started sounding. Cho Li hastily pulled on his pants and ran up, tightening his belt as he went. On deck, everyone was on the port side, staring at the water below. Cho Li squeezed his way through, reached the bulwarks, looked down, and the blood froze in his veins. The sea was foaming, churning, and gurgling. Amid the whirlpool stirred a gigantic, octopus-shaped creature. It was whitish and slimy, with hundreds of tentacles around a sucking mouth and an ugly head in the midst of a shapeless, jellylike body. A thick fog crawled up from the sea, wrapping the ship in its bony white hands. Suddenly, the monster hit the junk so hard that several people fell down, screaming. The Dragon’s Wing slid through the water with incredible speed, hauled away by the disgusting thing.

Cho Li cocked his head and listened. The rocking had diminished, and the ship’s creaking wasn’t so noisy.

“The wind abates,” he muttered and sank into his thoughts again.

The weather was misty and stormy back then, and the monster had towed them further and further away into uncharted waters. They did everything to gain control over the bloody junk, but all was in vain. Finally, after many days, the ship halted abruptly, and everybody rushed to see what was happening. As they craned their necks over the bulwarks, Dragon’s Wing suddenly rocked and rose almost vertically on her bow. With terrifying screams, a third of the crew and nearly all the passengers disappeared into the churning water, straight into the monster’s maw. The whirlpool turned red, and limbs floated everywhere. Cho Li shuddered. It had been a terrible sight. The ship fell back to her usual position, but the dread continued. The tentacles of the awful creature swiftly darted in and out with a swishing sound, grabbing the sailors and dragging them into the sea. This time, however, the men fought back, brandishing their swords and slashing at the thick, slimy tentacles until the monster let go. Eventually, it vanished the same way it had come, without a trace, sinking into the depths of the ocean.

Now they were free, but the aftermath of the attack was disastrous. All the passengers were gone, and of eighty crew members, only twenty-five had survived, all of them seamen before the mast except Cho Li who, as a boatswain, had to take charge of the ship.

With the captain and all officers dead and with no information about the course, they floated for weeks, surrounded only by the blue immensity of the sea. On top of that, the sky was cloudy all the time, so they could not use the stars to navigate. Cho Li, however, had an intuition to keep heading east, and he listened to it. Besides, there was nothing better to do.

Cho Li was a short, sullen man in his forties, and the crew did not like him much. Several youngsters had started snapping at him, openly challenging his authority, but while a mutiny was brewing, an unknown disease mowed down half of the remaining crew. Nobody could have understood what had hit them so hard, and by the time they discovered that the monster’s slimy secretions had contaminated one of the water barrels, only fourteen men remained alive.     

            “As if some ominous curse follows us everywhere,” Cho Li muttered. The death claimed his mates’ lives by all sorts of unfortunate events. Dong and Daquan fell overboard in stormy weather. Jian hanged himself on the yardarm during his watch, and Ji and Gen, both excellent sailors, threw themselves into the sea on the same day (though not simultaneously). They both swore to have heard enchanting songs and seen beautiful mermaids swimming alongside the ship and waving at them. Cho Li suspected that the water shortage had severely addled their brains.

            “I should’ve known better,” he sighed in the darkness. “If I’d tied them to the mast, I could have saved them from imaginary mermaids.”

He slammed his fist against the wooden table. So many mistakes and no chance to rectify them. If he could have turned back time…

            “Bugger that,” he grunted. “There’s no going back. One thing I know for sure—if we don’t find land within five days, we’re all dead men. At least the rain gives us a little fresh water, but for how long? And after all the ordeals and misery, when we eventually had a glimmer of hope, this bloody storm started up! Such shitty luck!” He hit the table again, his face distorted with rage.

            Two days before, they had spotted land at last. Oh, what a joy it was, and such a relief when the lookout had cried, “Land ho!”

It was a small group of islands resembling a gigantic turtle from afar. In the late afternoon sun, each isle outlined distinct parts of the animal—the smaller ones formed the head and the neck, the shell was a big chunk of land with a high hill in the center, and three little atolls shaped the tail.

The crew was elated, and the hope returned to their eyes as they finally envisioned the end of their troubles.

“Straight ahead to the shell, mateys!” Cho Li cried out joyfully. “Hands aloft to hoist the topsails! Keep her steady, Fai!”

It was not meant to be. Cho Li had sensed it from the start, this nasty feeling of impending doom. A sudden, strong headwind drove them far away from their desired destination. The gale raged and within an hour, the poor seamen were forced to change course, losing sight of the land they so coveted.

            “Hey Cho Li, where are you?” He turned his head, listening. Chang shouted from above, “Did the wind blow you overboard, old man? Where are you, by thunder?”

            Cho Li sighed, hauled himself up, and headed for the main deck.

***

In the morning, the storm died away and the dawn bathed the sea in light. Dead tired, the sailors lay scattered on the deck, snoring soundly. Cho Li remained behind the helm, the only man awake aside from Kang, the lookout. His gaze lingered on the horizon. The wind fondled his face, and the shimmering water reflected a golden glare from the rising sun. The view aroused in him a sad longing for bygone days.

He should have been tired after being up all night fighting the storm, but strangely enough, his head was clear, and he was in excellent shape. Not exactly young and strong as he once was, but almost…

“Land ho!” cried Kang from above, and Cho Li jumped, startled. He shaded his eyes and looked ahead at the dark little spot, visible despite the distance.

“At last,” he grunted and dashed toward the bronze gong. The giant disk shone like red gold in the morning sun, and the silver snakes decorating the center looked like they were alive. Cho Li grabbed the heavy club dangling beneath the gong and started hitting it, mad with joy.

A while later, all the seamen leaned against the bulwarks and watched the looming island with excitement. It appeared enchantingly beautiful from afar—a crescent of green land with three steep hills rising in the middle stood out amid the azure sea. The bay, enclosed by the two ends of the sickle, was large enough to shelter a fleet. As the ship approached, they could discern a broad sandy beach and scattered palm trees, friendly waving their green fronds. It seemed to be a calm, uninhabited place, with no sign of human activity.

“Take down the sails and drop anchor!” cried Cho Li, his voice muffled by the whipping of the canvas. “Do you see the reef? We can’t get any closer.”

The waves broke into white foam about a hundred yards from the shore, clearly outlining the stretch of the shoals.

“You must be blind not to notice it,” grunted Feng, a tall, gaunt sailor who hated Cho Li’s guts more than anyone else did.

“Up to the crow’s nest, Feng, and fast! Let’s see if your eyes are as sharp as your tongue. Tell us what you can perceive aloft!” commanded Cho Li. Feng shot him a nasty look and slouched toward the mainmast, emphasizing his lack of enthusiasm with every step.

“Come, mateys, cheer the slug up!” Cho Li shouted. Feng started slowly climbing the mast among the chuckles and whistling of the others. Halfway up, he stopped and made an obscene gesture at them, which lightened their mood even more. Once he got to the top, he observed the land for a while, then cried, “There’s a flock of birds circling above the center of the jungle. And a wide green patch at the foot of the hills, probably a clearing. Not sure, though. I see something that looks like thin smoke rising over there, but it could be a play of the light... Maybe one of you scoundrels with better eyes should climb up here and look?”

“All right, get down. We’ve heard enough!” Cho Li shouted back. He waited until Feng had descended, then commanded, “We need to see how the land lies. Chang, Chao, and Feng are coming with me ashore, and the other of you wait here. If we don’t come back by the time the big sandglass is turned over thrice[1], it means that something’s gone wrong, right? If you don’t spot a fire or any sign of us by nightfall, you double your vigilance, and if there is still no trace of us tomorrow, don’t go ashore to look for us, but hoist the sails and leave. Now, get the sampan ready.”

They lowered the boat and the four sailors got in. As it glided over the water, nobody uttered a word. Cho Li inhaled the salty smell of the ocean while he listened to the gentle oars splash, the swishing of the wind, and the piercing cries of the seagulls. He felt happy as a child, surrounded by the colors of the day, as lively as they had been in his youth. And just like in his teenage years, the roar of the surf brought him the excitement of starting an incredible new adventure. They passed the reef in silence, admiring the pinkish coral formations jutting out here and there above the sea. Once ashore, they jumped out of the boat, splashing the water around them. They dragged the sampan inland, making sure that the tide could not reach it. Then, still panting from the effort, they wiped their faces and looked around.

The beach was about 20 yards wide, studded with palms and some crooked, unfamiliar trees with small leaves. Beyond the sandy strip was the dense, tangled wall of foliage where the tropical jungle began. Cho Li and his company crossed the beach and stopped beneath the first of the tall trees.

“All right, first we need to find fresh water and fruit,” Cho Li said. “We can manage without more meat for now—we still have three hogs and two goats alive on the ship. So, let’s focus on searching for a river or some other freshwater source. And stick together, right! Nobody wanders off! Let’s go!”

He drew his jian[2] and walked into the jungle, followed by his comrades.

Creepers, shrubs, intertwined vines, and fallen trunks were tangled in such an incredible mess that it was almost impossible to advance. Drenched with sweat, they hewed their way, cutting left and right. The branches whipped and scratched their faces, and the scorching heat melted their brains. The damp air, the birds’ screeches, the shrieks of unknown animals, and the buzzing of insects, which thrust themselves in their mouths and nostrils, only added to their frustrated desperation. Now and then, Cho Li turned sharply, scanning nervously through the trees around.

            “Pretty jumpy, Cap’n?” Chang called mockingly.

“Honestly, I don’t like this place,” Cho Li replied. “I sense some ominous presence, as though somebody’s watching. Do you feel it?”

“I rather feel like taking a shit,” said Chang, and all but Cho Li burst into laughter.

“Hey, look, there’s a path over there!” Chao cried out.

The thick foliage thinned out on their left, outlining a narrow trail. They followed it, penetrating deeper into the jungle, and gradually the track grew wider until it led them to a vast clearing.

“Turtle’s egg,” Cho Li whispered and stopped dead.

In the middle of the clearing rose a gigantic ancient tree. Its trunk was dark green and so large that a score of men holding hands could scarcely have encircled it. Just below the branches, its upper part was studded with spears, axes, knives, daggers, and maces of different sizes and shapes.

The massive boughs, every one of them as big as a tree in its own right, spread horizontally in all directions. In addition to the dense, broad green leaves, the branches were festooned with impaled skulls and putrid parts of human bodies, which dangled here and there, swinging slowly in the faint breeze. Hundreds of black birds, resembling crows but considerably bigger, flocked above the crown, letting out sharp cries and occasionally swooping at the corpses.

Before the grisly tree, a flat, rectangular stone had been set atop a rocky outcropping. It was carved all over with notches, grooves, and strange symbols. Sun-bleached bones and skulls were heaped around it.

The seamen stood thunderstruck, unable to believe their eyes. Confused and completely lacking any sense of time, they stared for a prolonged period, until a gust of wind brought to them a terrible stench of carrion. Cho Li stepped away and bent double to throw up. When the last convulsion passed and he lifted his eyes again, he jumped backward, and a thin trickle ran along his left leg. Scores of swarthy men came noiselessly out of the forest, each clutching a spear in his hand.

Cho Li pivoted quickly. They were everywhere, blending in with the shadows of the trees and staring ominously at the sailors. They were all naked, except for loincloths, with mighty physiques. Each man stood a head taller than the sailors, slender and brawny, with shaved skulls and bodies covered with tattoos depicting the same gigantic tree, crania, or battle scenes. Small human bones dangled from their noses and ears, their faces emanating the cruelty and strength of feral animals.

“Sheer savages,” whispered Cho Li.

He met the stare of a broad-shouldered man with a missing ear, and froze with horror, for he read his own death in the man’s dreadful black eyes, connected with the deepest darkness.

At this moment, his stomach churned and he shit himself. With a wet arse and a banging heart, red in the face with shame, he slowly raised his hands in the air and dropped his sword from a height, then slumped to his knees and said in a trembling voice, “We come to you in peace, to look for water and food. If you’d be so kind to allow us to replenish our supplies a little, we will generously acknowledge our gratitude. We’ll give you anything you want. Just let us go, please.”

He touched the earth with his forehead in a sign of profound humility, followed by Chang, Chao, and Feng, who mimicked him to the slightest details.

The locals understood nothing of what Cho Li said. His body language, however, was eloquent enough. A tall, fierce-looking man stepped forward and shouted in the tribe’s native tongue: “Tie them up! They alone found their path to sacrifice. The Great Kepolo led them to the Sacred Tree, which means only one thing: he is claiming their lives. As to the others in the big boat, they will be our slaves. I want them alive, well-fed, and pampered all the time. They should lack nothing because these strangers will teach us how to build such big boats, and we will become the most powerful people in the Turtle Archipelago!”

The seamen, who were not able to discern even a single word, focused intently on the dark man’s intonation. There was nothing peaceful in it. As he spoke, the savage progressively raised his voice and finished in a high-pitched crescendo, lifting his spear. The others responded with similar cries and hoisted their spears as one. Then, several men lunged at the poor sailors, tied them up, and dragged them toward the enormous tree. As they stretched Cho Li on the flat stone and fastened his limbs, the last thought that passed through his mind was:

There it goes, bloody Elixir of Life.

 

 

 

 

[1] About six hours.

[2] A short, bronze, double-edged straight sword.