Pirates Alley

By Robert Bresloff

An adventure story of Chinese pirates, magicians, ghosts and treasure ships.

Chen grew up in Annam, but it was soldiers of the Chinese Emperor of the Dragon Throne who laid waste to his village and tortured and killed everyone. Chen, just twelve years old, escaped with the help of a mysterious old man. After many days march with the old man, he finds himself on a Chinese Treasure Ship, and it is then that the real adventure begins.

But the old man has already revealed that he is a magician, and there is something very strange about Chen that the boy had never known and could not have possibly imagined. His skills may be unique, and without him the Chinese ships might not survive the pirates or come close to completing their mission halfway round the world...

Then, hundreds of years later, another boy finds an ancient knife on a beach after days of searching because, somehow, he knew it was there. As if that was not enough, he and his friends are then plunged into a modern-day adventure of pirates, thieves, ghosts, and buried treasure.

Recommended for readers of all ages from 12 to adult.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Strict Publishing International
• Release date: Nov 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9780857793195

Robert Bresloff

Robert Bresloff is an established author of adventure novels mainly for children and young adults.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE:

When the student is ready, the teacher will arrive.

—Unknown

Chen ran. He ran for his life. As fast as his short young legs would carry him, the boy ran through his burning village. All that he could hope for was a way to escape the evil soldiers who chased him. Chen was sure that his family had perished in the attack. For all the boy knew, the entire village was dead or captured. Run…! he had heard his father yell. A soldier’s axe quickly silenced the warning before its deadly blade turned on his mother.

Chen glanced over his shoulder once more before diving off the path and into the brush. It would remain the last picture in his mind. The black smoke that filled the bright afternoon sky, the screams of the villagers, his family, his friends, and what had happened to his parents. All that had once been his home and life was no more. There was no time to cry.

There! shouted one of the soldiers who were chasing Chen, pointing toward the thick brush along the path. The rodent hides in the thicket.

The ground smelled of damp and dirt. As he lay hidden beneath the thick growth, Chen felt the heavy footfalls of the soldiers as they approached. The boy prayed for the wisdom of Tao to guide him. As the footsteps grew closer, the earth below him thundered as if it were a beating drum.

Run! he heard another voice cry. The soldiers’ footsteps suddenly fell silent.

Chen peeked over the thick brush that stood between him and capture.

Run! the voice came again. The voice was rough and gravely, but it was there. Chen was certain that he had heard it.

Chen saw that the soldiers were as confused as he was. The two large men stood, only a short distance away, at the center of the path, looking for whoever (or whatever) belonged to the mysterious voice.

Who calls out to my rescue? The soldiers were looking directly in his direction. If it had not been for the dense brush, the soldiers would have seen him. If they would only look away, thought Chen spying the soldiers through the thicket. Then as if by magic, both of the soldiers turned to look behind them.

Now! This time the mysterious voice shouted. Directly behind you, Rabbit. Run!

Without another thought, Chen sprang from the ground, turned and ran headlong into the trees behind him.

Look, cried one of the soldiers, turning in time to see Chen dash through the jungle, the rodent runs for his life.

Chen did not look back. He heard the soldier and knew that the hunt had resumed. On and on he ran. The low hanging tree branches slapped across Chen’s face like a whip and tangled his long black hair. The soldiers were gaining; there was no time for the pain. He had to keep running. Closer and closer the soldiers came. They yelled insults and torments as they gained on the boy.

We will not kill you, rodent, they yelled. You know what fate awaits you!

Chen knew well the fate of captured young boys of villages that rebelled against the Emperor of the Dragon Throne. He would be tortured and left for dead. Even if he lived, what life would there be?

The mere thought of the torture that awaited him if caught sent him faster into the dark jungle. The soldiers followed closely, still yelling and laughing about what they would do when they finally caught him. Chen’s bare feet burned as they beat hard against the jungle floor. His body ached and he was nearly out of breath.

Do not stop! exclaimed the mysterious voice from just ahead. Chen continued to run.

The soldiers were gaining; Chen could almost feel their hot breath upon the back of his neck from the screams of insults and threats.

Soon – Rabbit – soon! cried the voice again. As Chen broke into a small clearing in the jungle, he knew that the voice was very close.

It was too late! He felt the iron grip upon his shoulder. In another second, Chen felt his feet kicked out from under him. He lay helplessly on his back, looking up into the smoke filled sky. Chen paid no attention to the searing pain that tore through the small of his back. He could only focus on the two smiling, sinister figures that hovered menacingly over him.

Both men stood with hands planted firmly on their hips. Laughing as they gazed at their helpless pray, the soldiers took turns spitting on Chen as he lay there breathless and scared. Wearing the scars from many battles, their ruthless stares betrayed the hatred that these warriors of the Chinese Emperor Zhu Di had for Chen’s people – the people of Annam. One of the soldiers fell to his knees and held Chen’s shoulders firmly to the ground.

Hold him tightly, growled the one that still stood.

Chen braced himself for what was to come. The pain of the soldier’s knife would soon be on him. He would act brave. He would make his father and his ancestors proud. He closed his eyes – tightly.

Ahhh, said the mysterious voice. Chen could not see, but he was sure that it came from within the clearing. Two of Zhu Di’s finest, continued the rough and gravel sounding voice. Are we now at war with children?

Chen watched the standing soldier slowly turn to look behind.

What is your business, old man? snapped the soldier angrily.

There was a pause. Chen lay there, in the silence shivering with fear.

What do you intend for the boy? asked the voice.

Chinese? the soldier growled again, pointing in the direction of the voice.

Yes, of course stated the rough voice proudly.

Then you know this boy’s fate, stated the soldier wickedly. Again I ask you, what is your business?

I am Waan, the great and renowned juggler from the court of the emperor himself – Zhu Di! exclaimed the old voice.

The soldier that had Chen pinned to the ground turned to get a better look at the intruder.

I know this man, he laughed. Chen watched as the man’s long strands of dark hair that hung from his mustache move carelessly along his chin with every word. He is a wonderful juggler. I have seen him perform for the emperor in the Forbidden City.

A juggler, eh? snapped the other soldier.

Yes, said the voice of Waan. I am.

What is your business here in Annam, old man?

The Emperor himself has sent me to entertain his brave army.

Then you will perform for us? asked the soldier on the ground.

Indeed, answered Waan. Whatever is your wish, brave warriors of the Dragon Throne.

Chen was confused, but he lay there hoping that the conversation would never end. He was in no hurry to taste the cold steel of the soldier’s knife.

What about the boy? asked the juggler. "Would it not be benevolent to let him see me perform, before his – punishment?"

What harm could it do, said the standing soldier. Let the boy up.

Chen felt the soldier’s iron grip disappear from his aching shoulders.

Get up, rodent, snapped the soldier, grabbing Chen’s loose tunic. In an instant, the boy was on his feet and looking directly at the juggler. The old man wants to give you a show.

Chen blinked his eyes twice, then again. The juggler had three balls already spinning in the air. The juggler’s appearance did not fit the raspy growling voice. He was very tall and slight of build, with long sinewy arms that moved in perfect rhythm with the balls as they landed briefly into each set of long, frail fingers. His hair pulled back into a long braid, revealed deep-set eyes, and high cheekbones. Gray with bits of black, the braid swished around each shoulder as his head turned from side to side, following each ball’s path. If it were not for his predicament, Chen surely would have laughed out loud at the sight of the juggler’s gaunt face and entertaining smile.

It was obvious to Chen that the soldiers were enjoying the show. They called out praise and laughed at the juggler’s silly, foolish faces and swiftly moving feet that managed to dance freely under the spinning balls. At first, Chen thought this to be an opportunity to escape, but each soldier held onto one of his arms as they watched. Then, the juggler began to sing while he juggled and danced.

To be a sailor on the China Sea

An adventurous life for you and me

To go aboard the Treasure Ships

And travel from land to land

To sail with Zheng He on the open sea

Set sail for Wanderland.

Again, the soldiers laughed and praised the juggler. They begged him to sing again so they could sing along. Chen did not understand the meaning of the song, but he understood the long, sharp fingernails nearly piercing his skin as each soldier’s grip tightened while they sang along with the juggler.

Faster and faster the balls spun, so fast that the juggler’s hands and arms nearly blurred. Faster and faster, he sang the song, so fast that the soldiers could no longer sing along. They began to laugh and yell at the juggler to slow down, but the juggler kept on singing, and juggling faster – faster – faster!

Chen had never seen anything like it. It felt as if he must have been dreaming. His world, what was left of it began to spin within the juggler’s song. Over and over again he sang:

To be a sailor on the China Sea

An adventurous life for you and me

To go aboard the Treasure Ships

And travel from land to land

To sail with Zheng He on the open sea

Set sail for Wanderland.

Then the juggler stopped singing and dancing. Finally, the juggler stopped juggling. The three balls fell noiselessly to the ground. The old man looked nervously at the soldiers.

I am so sorry, oh great warriors of the Dragon Throne, he apologized. How clumsy I have become these days.

Nonsense, old man, you were wonderful, laughed the soldier to Chen’s right. Please try again. It is the least we can do for our little rodent here.

Oh thank you. I will pick up the balls and begin anew.

Waan bowed gracefully from the waist to retrieve the balls, but as his hands neared the ground, two small, shiny objects appeared, one in each hand. Chen saw them, but he was quite certain that the soldiers had not.

What is he up to? Chen thought, watching the juggler closely.

Hurry up, old man. We have work to do on this rodent, yelled the soldier to Chen’s left. Come. Start the show again.

As you wish, great warrior of the Dragon Throne, Waan replied, still bent over, looking at the ground.

But as the juggler straightened, Chen again saw the flash of the sun hitting polished metal. This time one of the soldiers did see it.

What trickery is this? he yelled.

A little trick that I learned from a pirate, Waan laughed softly.

Then, as quickly as anything Chen had ever seen before, the old man flung his arms out toward the soldiers, releasing the shiny objects. Chen barely saw the objects as they sped in his direction. He closed his eyes tightly. All he heard were the sounds of simultaneous thuds when they struck their intended targets.

The two soldiers made not a sound. However, Chen felt each of them release their strong grip, clutching wildly at the objects that now stuck boldly from the middle of their chests. The soldiers fell instantly to their knees.

Chen opened his eyes slowly, stepped away turning to look at his wounded captors. How is this possible? he thought while staring at the small knives protruding from their heaving, bleeding chests. Chen turned to look at Waan. His heart pounding and still trembling, the boy sighed with relief. Chen shot the old man a questioning glance.

If you want to live, Rabbit – come with me! exclaimed the mysterious juggler.

CHAPTER TWO:

Just surrender to the cycle of things.

Give yourselves to the wave of the Great Change.

Neither happy nor afraid. And when it is time to go,

Then simply go – Without any unnecessary fuss.

-- T’ao Ch’ien

Chen faced the strange man that had saved his life.

Who are you?

You speak Chinese, said the old man.

Chen rubbed his eyes.

"My mother is – was from China, he replied sadly. She said it was important to know the language."

The juggler was putting the balls back into his small, red, silk bag. He spoke without even looking up.

Where are your sandals? he asked. You cannot possibly walk to Beijing without sandals!

Chen looked down at his naked feet. He had lost his sandals while escaping from the soldiers.

I don’t know, was all that Chen could reply. I lost them…

Never mind, said the juggler roughly, before thrusting his hand into his silk bag. He rummaged around inside the sack as if there were hundreds of wonderful things to find. That was, of course, impossible for the bag seemed barely large enough to hold the juggling balls. Within seconds, Chen watched the old man’s eyes grow very bright. His face broke into a broad toothy grin, teeth as yellow as his narrow face.

Aha! exclaimed the juggler, pulling a pair of fine, leather sandals from the bag. I believe that this pair should be a perfect fit, Rabbit.

This pair… How…? stuttered Chen. The stranger tossed the sandals to him.

Put them on quickly, for we must leave this place, he said, while gazing around the clearing.

Chen sat on the ground and pulled on the sandals. He could not believe how perfectly they fit. As he stood, one of the wounded soldiers started to moan. Chen jumped with a start.

See Rabbit, they will be looking for you, snapped the juggler. We must leave – now!

To where? inquired Chen.

Did I not just tell you? Beijing, said the old man quickly. I sail with Zheng He and the Treasure Fleet.

The song, it’s true? asked Chen.

Yes, Rabbit, it is true, he replied. Now come. Maybe the admiral will let you sail as well.

Sir, said Chen. What should I call you?

The stranger looked deeply into Chen’s eyes.

Master Waan… Yes, I like that. And I will call you Rabbit, he replied.

Don’t you want to know my real name?

That won’t be necessary… Chen.

Master Waan said not a word for the several hours that they had trudged through the steamy jungle. He knows my name, thought Chen. He looked down at the mysterious sandals on his feet. How?

The jungle had given way to a forest, with taller trees and harder ground. Chen and the stranger sat near the edge of a small brook that wound along the path they traveled. Chen was happy that they had finally stopped to rest and refresh themselves, but the old man still did not speak.

The silence made him quite uncomfortable, so Chen busied himself listening to the gentle call of the birds and the soothing sounds of the brook and watching the setting sun hide behind the tall trees. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He could not remember feeling as tired as this in his thirteen years. He looked over to Master Waan, who leaned up against a small tree. The old man’s eyes appeared closed, but Chen felt as if they were on him. Chen was certainly grateful to Master Waan for saving him, but the old man’s mysterious ways scared him. He decided to break the silence.

Master Waan, he said softly. The stranger’s left eye popped open, but still he said nothing. Nervously, Chen spoke again. I have not thanked you for saving my life, he said, looking directly into the old man’s open eye.

Are you hungry, Rabbit? asked Master Waan without hesitation.

Chen suddenly realized that he was very hungry. He could not remember the last time he had eaten. With all that had happened, he did not even think about food. Chen’s round, yellow face framed a white, toothy smile.

I guess I am, he replied.

Good. Then we shall camp here for the night and resume our journey in the morning, said Master Waan, as his other eye popped open. I shall make some rice and we will sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us.

How shall you make rice, Master Waan? asked Chen. The boy was confused. Between them, they had only what was in the small silk bag.

Master Waan grabbed the sack and quickly jumped to his feet.

You collect wood for a fire, Rabbit, he smiled. I will take care of the rest.

The scents and sounds of early evening in the forest filled Chen’s senses while rummaging through the brush for dry wood. He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. It had been a very sad day for him. Chen had lost his family, friends, and village, but somehow he did not feel the sadness. Why, Chen thought, am I not saddened by my family’s death?

Because I will not permit it, said the familiar rasp of Master Waan’s voice.

Chen quickly turned in the direction of the voice – the old man stood just a short distance away – he was so close that Chen could almost touch him. The boy had not heard him approach. There had not been a sound. A chill ran up his spine. He shivered.

What do you mean, Master Waan? he asked.

I cannot permit you to grieve for your losses, Rabbit, Master Waan replied. We have far too far to go… I need you to be strong.

You read my thoughts, said Chen, his arms breaking out in huge goose bumps as he uttered the words.

Aye, replied the stranger before motioning for Chen to follow.

Scared as he was of this mysterious person who could read minds, Chen had little choice but to stay. After all, Master Waan did save his life. He could have let the soldiers torture him and leave him for dead, but instead the old man risked his own life to save him. For the moment, Chen decided that not being sad was probably a good thing.

When he and Master Waan arrived at the spot beside the brook where they had rested, Chen could hardly believe his eyes. There, just next to the tree, where the old man had been reclining just a short time before, was now a roaring fire with a small, bubbling iron pot, hanging by a branch, above it.

Master Waan! he exclaimed. How did you…?

Master Waan turned to the boy and smiled.

Are you not hungry? asked the old man, handing the boy a small bowl. If you are not, Master Waan would be happy to eat your share.

Chen shook his head sharply. He had never felt hungrier. Chen snatched the bowl from Waan’s outstretched hand and headed for the fire.

The meal was quiet. Chen quickly gobbled his bowl of rice and looked up to Waan. The old man did not wait for the boy to speak; he leaned over and filled his bowl again.

Master Waan, began Chen, talking between mouthfuls of rice, could you please tell me why the emperor’s soldiers attacked my people?

Waan shook his head slowly.

Look around you, Rabbit, he replied. The old man set his bowl of rice (which Chen had noticed was hardly touched) onto the ground, and raised his arms toward the treetops. What do you see? he asked thoughtfully.

Chen looked up and all around.

A forest, he said smiling. Trees...

Precisely! exclaimed Master Waan. Chen shot the old man a confused look. The Treasure Fleet, my boy! What do you think the treasure ships are made of?

Chen gobbled more rice, so quickly that his chopsticks made a loud clicking sound against his closing teeth.

Master Waan, said Chen, after a large gulp that made the old man smile. Please tell me about Zheng He and the Treasure Fleet.

Night had fallen over the forest, and the last remaining embers from the fire glowed bright orange against the dark ground. Chen had just finished his fourth bowl of rice. The boy stretched his arms overhead and yawned loudly. The creatures of the night abruptly ceased their nightly sounds.

Chen looked into the darkness. The silence was almost deafening. He glanced over the fire to see Waan’s gaze fixed upon him. The old man’s eyes glowed nearly as orange as the burning embers that they reflected.

Master Waan, said Chen, after another yawn, will you tell me about the ships of Zheng He? The sounds of the forest suddenly continued, putting a quick end to the silence that Chen’s loud yawn had begun.

Have you had enough to eat, Rabbit?

Yes, thank you.

Master Waan made himself comfortable against the young tree behind him.

Since you are of Annam, began the old man, You have not heard the tales of the great emperor of China, Zhu Di, and his faithful admiral, Zheng He, unless of course, your mother told them to you.

I know nothing about China, except the language.

Good. Then I will be the first to tell you of the greatest heroes I have ever known, Master Waan said proudly, The admirals of the Treasure Fleet.

The old man pulled one of his juggling balls from the small silk bag. He began to toss it carelessly into the air, catching it repeatedly as he spoke.

Zhu Di was the son of Emperor Zhu Yuangshang. When his father named Zhu Yunwen, his nephew, to be his successor, Zhu Di, a great warrior, led a rebellion against Emperor Zhu Yunwen.

Why did the emperor not name his own son as his successor? inquired Chen.

Master Waan smiled and nodded his head.

That, Rabbit, is a very interesting story. The old man took a deep breath to collect his thoughts before continuing. "Though Zhu Di was, without a doubt, the natural choice to take the throne upon the old emperor’s death, the emperor’s councils persuaded him not to. You see, the emperor had many sons from many wives, and thought that if one of these sons were favored to succeed him it would cause much political strife and possibly bring civil war to the Empire.

"Zhu Di was very unhappy with this decision. The favorite son of the emperor had always thought that he should succeed his father, not his cousin. All that Zhu Yuanzhang’s advisors feared came to pass. With the help of his trusted commander, Ma He, Zhu Di defeated his cousin’s forces and took control of the country."

The boy perked up, he became more attentive as the old man spoke of war and rebellion. Chen had always dreamed of being a great warrior – not as the soldiers who would have done him harm, but as a warrior who was gallant and proud. He did not say a word, enthralled by the old man’s story. He wanted to hear more.

Once Zhu Di took the throne, great changes began to take place in the land of the Dragon Throne. One of the first acts of Zhu Di’s China was the creation of a great fleet of ships. He called it The Imperial Fleet. Then, the emperor bestowed a new name upon his trusted friend and commander, Ma He. He named him Zheng He in honor of the great battle that defeated his cousin’s troops near the city of Zhenglunba. For this honor, Zheng He was appointed Supreme Admiral of The Imperial Fleet.

Why did Zhu Di build the fleet, Master Waan? asked Chen.

Mater Waan smiled broadly at his new ward.

The emperor claimed that he wanted his admirals to increase trade, explore new lands, and collect tribute from the barbarians who lived there. The old man looked around, into the dark night, as if somebody might be listening. Then, in a low, raspy voice, he said, It is believed, he paused again, that the admirals were to search for Zhu Di’s cousin, the newly deposed emperor who had fled the country. But that of course is sheer nonsense.

Chen’s eyelids suddenly felt very heavy. As hard as he tried to keep them open, every yawn made them feel that much heavier.

How did you meet Admiral Zheng He, Master Waan, he yawned.

Master Waan picked up a long branch and poked at the softly burning embers of what remained of the fire. The coals raged at the touch, bathing Chen and the old man in a warm orange glow.

That story, my young and tired friend, is for another time, replied Waan through the sparks that danced in the air above the angry embers. It has been a long and eventful day. I believe that we should get some sleep if we are to have all of our strength for the long journey ahead.

As if he had no control, Chen nodded his head in agreement.

Yes, Master Waan, he sighed, as his eyes blinked open for the last time of the day.

Chen fell quickly into a deep sleep. His dreams were strange and flighty, hastily moving from scene to stranger scene. Magic and majesty filled his dreams. Chen dreamt of Master Waan and Admiral Zheng He, of many great ships and adventures at sea.

CHAPTER THREE:

A thousand mile journey starts with one-step.

-- Lau Tzu

Whenever Chen spoke of seeing China, his mother would tell him that the journey from Annam to the Yangzi River was a long and perilous one, a trip that he should never think of again. However, his entire life, he could think of nothing else. His sweet mother taught him to speak Chinese at a very young age, and he always longed to see the homeland. Now all life and balance had changed in his world. Chen was on his way to China. How ironic, he thought, that his mother’s death would have been the first step in this journey.

He stayed dutifully in step behind Master Waan. The old man usually took the lead as, day after day, they traveled the worn paths through the countryside. At times, Master Waan would allow Chen to walk beside him and they would talk, though the old man did most of the talking.

One learns more when one listens and does not speak, Chen would hear him say every time he asked too many questions.