taken on a note of authority and evident enjoyment to be involved in some action.
Casca realized that Deng was also enjoying the prospect of recovering from the corpse not only the Ju family's money, but everything that the collector had extorted from the villagers that day. Many of the village families would recover their tax contributions and reward Deng Ziyang for them.
Indeed, Liqun and Songzhen had already removed the extortioner's belt and pouch, and were now busy taking off his clothes, while Deng Ziyang studied the contents of the pouch.
Casca picked up the shirt of heavy blue cotton and realized for the first time how lucky he had been with his two knife thrusts. The shirt was of two layers of cotton, lined with small scales of hardened leather to form a sort of armor to protect the wearer from sword slashes.
Casca's thrust to the kidneys had gone under the length of the shirt, and his second thrust had found one of the gaps between the leather scales.
He shrugged his way into the shirt and found it a tolerable, if rather tight fit. He added the leg pieces and the small apron made of the same material. He took the belt and pouch from Deng and smiled to see the old man's face fall, then light up as Casca emptied the pouch on the floor. There was a knife in a sheath on the right side of the belt, the sword scabbard on the left.
By now Ju had removed the studded boots and Casca stepped into them, the thick rope soles adding a couple of inches to his height. He put on the leather helmet and pulled the peak down over his eyes.
"Good enough to get by if I don't come face to face with any of the warlord's other men."
He crossed the small front room and went out into the street to look at the horse. It was a fine animal, in good condition, with a splendid saddle. A leather socket held a bamboo lance about eight feet long, and from the pommel hung a round cane shield and a face guard.
The guard was in the form of a mask, made of a number of small metal plates riveted together to resemble a man's face with eye slits, a nose pierce, and a hideously grinning mouth.
Casca went back into the Ju house. In the back room the naked body lay on the floor and Casca studied its bulk distastefully. Killing a man never troubled him, but he had an ingrained objection to the tedium of disposing of bodies. Especially when it had to be done in secret.
Dead bodies, he knew, were heavy; they stank; and they were almost impossible to carry unobserved even in the dark if they were lucky enough to be able to wait for darkness.
While he was pondering the problem he saw Songzhen returning to the room with a broad bladed Chinese cooking knife in her hand. Ju Liqun and Deng Ziyang struggled to turn the body onto its face, and she squatted beside it and began to slice through the backs of the knees. As she pushed the severed legs aside her husband wrapped them in pieces of sacking.
She wielded the cleaver like an ax to cut through the hip joints and then went to work at the shoulders, and lastly chopped through the neck. She carried out the whole operation as disinterestedly as she might have butchered a pig.
The rumble of iron wheels on cobblestones alerted Casca that Deng had brought his two wheeled cart to the door, and he watched as the family carried out the sack wrapped dismembered body and stowed the individual bundles under the grass and manure where he himself had hidden the previous day.
They carried out the task in full view of the people passing in the street. Much smarter than waiting for darkness, Casca thought.
But what was he to do with himself, and the horse?
CHAPTER NINE
"Where will you bury the body?" Casca asked Deng.
“Bury?"
"Well, what are you going to do with it?"
"Why, just dispose of it like any other garbage, of course."
"Of course. But where?"
"Anywhere. Here. There. What difference?"
"You mean you're just going to throw the bits about the countryside?"
Deng's puzzlement showed in his face.
Casca realized that Deng was also enjoying the prospect of recovering from the corpse not only the Ju family's money, but everything that the collector had extorted from the villagers that day. Many of the village families would recover their tax contributions and reward Deng Ziyang for them.
Indeed, Liqun and Songzhen had already removed the extortioner's belt and pouch, and were now busy taking off his clothes, while Deng Ziyang studied the contents of the pouch.
Casca picked up the shirt of heavy blue cotton and realized for the first time how lucky he had been with his two knife thrusts. The shirt was of two layers of cotton, lined with small scales of hardened leather to form a sort of armor to protect the wearer from sword slashes.
Casca's thrust to the kidneys had gone under the length of the shirt, and his second thrust had found one of the gaps between the leather scales.
He shrugged his way into the shirt and found it a tolerable, if rather tight fit. He added the leg pieces and the small apron made of the same material. He took the belt and pouch from Deng and smiled to see the old man's face fall, then light up as Casca emptied the pouch on the floor. There was a knife in a sheath on the right side of the belt, the sword scabbard on the left.
By now Ju had removed the studded boots and Casca stepped into them, the thick rope soles adding a couple of inches to his height. He put on the leather helmet and pulled the peak down over his eyes.
"Good enough to get by if I don't come face to face with any of the warlord's other men."
He crossed the small front room and went out into the street to look at the horse. It was a fine animal, in good condition, with a splendid saddle. A leather socket held a bamboo lance about eight feet long, and from the pommel hung a round cane shield and a face guard.
The guard was in the form of a mask, made of a number of small metal plates riveted together to resemble a man's face with eye slits, a nose pierce, and a hideously grinning mouth.
Casca went back into the Ju house. In the back room the naked body lay on the floor and Casca studied its bulk distastefully. Killing a man never troubled him, but he had an ingrained objection to the tedium of disposing of bodies. Especially when it had to be done in secret.
Dead bodies, he knew, were heavy; they stank; and they were almost impossible to carry unobserved even in the dark if they were lucky enough to be able to wait for darkness.
While he was pondering the problem he saw Songzhen returning to the room with a broad bladed Chinese cooking knife in her hand. Ju Liqun and Deng Ziyang struggled to turn the body onto its face, and she squatted beside it and began to slice through the backs of the knees. As she pushed the severed legs aside her husband wrapped them in pieces of sacking.
She wielded the cleaver like an ax to cut through the hip joints and then went to work at the shoulders, and lastly chopped through the neck. She carried out the whole operation as disinterestedly as she might have butchered a pig.
The rumble of iron wheels on cobblestones alerted Casca that Deng had brought his two wheeled cart to the door, and he watched as the family carried out the sack wrapped dismembered body and stowed the individual bundles under the grass and manure where he himself had hidden the previous day.
They carried out the task in full view of the people passing in the street. Much smarter than waiting for darkness, Casca thought.
But what was he to do with himself, and the horse?
CHAPTER NINE
"Where will you bury the body?" Casca asked Deng.
“Bury?"
"Well, what are you going to do with it?"
"Why, just dispose of it like any other garbage, of course."
"Of course. But where?"
"Anywhere. Here. There. What difference?"
"You mean you're just going to throw the bits about the countryside?"
Deng's puzzlement showed in his face.
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