The Faith and Salt

"Sir Morrison has been summoned to Peking, so the affairs in the South are temporarily under my charge," Liang Fa said. "I will arrange an armed escort for your journey to Huai'an. An assistant will be waiting for you there."

"Does that mean I will have a translator?" David asked.

"Sadly, your assistant speaks very little English. Most Chinese who know the Western tongue are currently retained by the government affairs."

"I beg your pardon? If my assistant speaks little English, how exactly am I supposed to communicate with him?"

"In Chinese, of course," Liang Fa replied, his expression genuinely puzzled.

"Right. Yes, of course," David stammered. "I merely meant... it won't be quite the same as using one's mother tongue."

"I am confident it will not be a problem.”

Like hell it won't. What a disaster.

"Mr. Liang," David began, his voice taking on a hesitant tone. "Are you quite certain there isn't some other post where my services might be required? Here in Canton, perhaps?"

"What do you mean?"

"There must have been some clerical misunderstanding when I filled out my paperwork back in London. You see, I didn't pay close enough attention to the specific details of this deployment... I feel quite certain I must have misread the assignment."

Sensing the awkwardness in the room, Dr. Parker interjected.

"Your assignment is actually quite straightforward. It is nothing more than acting as an English tutor for a few local magistrates and translating foreign manuals on Western flintlocks and line-infantry tactics to help them counter the monsters. You won't be placed in any direct danger."

Liang Fa nodded, continuing, "We still need to iron out the finer details of your itinerary. You may head to the side rooms to rest and consider the matter. It won't be too late to give us your answer tomorrow."

"No, I have no desire to go," David said, his voice firming up. He had no energy left to waste on politeness.

Liang Fa fell silent, a mix of quiet disapproval and uncertainty as to how he should respond to such blunt defiance.

After a long pause, he broke the silence. "Very well. Since that is your position, I have no choice but to send you back to England. I shall request another man from the London Society. You are dismissed."

"No, no—wait," David said, caught off guard. "I traveled all this distance, only for you to pack me straight back to London?"

"Yes. Just like that."

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A sharp headache flared behind David's eyes.

What the fuck...

"Very well, you have me," David muttered. "I’ll go."

Dr. Parker’s eyes swept over David, clearly sensing something. " There is a man named Wei Yuan in Yangzhou or Nanking who might be of use to you," the doctor said, "He was a trusted advisor to the Governor-General of Liangjiang. Not only does he understand English, but he is also said to be compiling a comprehensive geography text. Perhaps you could make a detour on your way to Huai'an?"

The doctor looked at Liang Fa for confirmation.

Liang Fa considered this for a moment. "I suppose I can try to arrange it."

"I am grateful," David said, grasping at this sudden lifeline.

"I have only one last question," David said. "Who exactly is my assistant?"

“He is a very kind local called Hong Xiuquan. You will see him holding a blue-covered book by Sir Morrison on the dock.”

“Besides, there’s a dangerous man who might be hostile.”

"The man is a warrior from a special bureau within the Imperial Army," Liang Fa said, his tone flat and rhythmic. "Though he is said to be reclusive and secretive, he is apparently exceptionally cruel."

"His name is Xiao Yan," Liang continued, "but you would be wise not to contact him."

Xiao Yan... David repeated the name silently.

David's meager belongings were loaded onto the cart: little more than a heavy crate of books, military manuals, and some practical traveling odds and ends.

Then he climbed into the vehicle himself.

This Chinese-covered cart was a miserable excuse for transport.

Lacking any form of iron springs, the rigid wooden axle would transmit every stone and rut of the road directly to David’s spine.

The interior was cramped and stuffy, forcing him to sit against the hard floorboards.

Outside, the traveling party was assembling.

It was a gritty convoy: a line of draft carts escorted by hired guards from a local security bureau.

These men were sinewy and dark from the sun, dressed in faded cotton tunics and heavy leg-wraps. They carried a mismatched assortment of weapons.

Some held spears and broadswords, while two or three bore heavy, outdated matchlock muskets slung over their shoulders.

The sour stench of sweat began to build, hanging heavy in the heat trapped within the cramped enclosure of the cart.

Sitting sullenly in the cart, David was suddenly interrupted by a familiar, booming voice from outside.

"Hey! How goes it, laddie? Lei'ho, lei'ho!" A thick Scottish brogue was cheerfully barking greetings at the bewildered Chinese guards.

David felt a mixture of utter disbelief and immediate irritation.

He shoved aside the coarse canvas curtain of his cart and peered out.

Sure enough, there stood the inescapable Archie.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"Well, once they let me out o' the lockup, I had a wee stroll through the city," Archie said, turning his grin toward David. "Heard tell of a convoy headin' north with a 'faint-hearted' British parson. I thought to myself, aye, that’ll be my laddie David." He tapped his temple with a dirty finger. "Old Archie’s wits are sharp as ever, ye ken?"

"My question," David repeated, his voice dropping into an exhausted tone, "is why you are here."

"I'm here 'cause I'm here, aren't I? A bit of overland travel will do my boots good."

David cursed his wretched luck in silence, but as his eyes swept over the Scotsman, he froze. Something was very wrong.

"That is my shotgun in your hand!"

"Hey, easy now!" Archie said. "I was only keepin' it safe for ye. Bringin' it right back to its proper owner, I was."

"You miserable old thief," David hissed under his breath.

A sharp, short whistle blew, and the horses at the front of the convoy began to strain against their harnesses.

"Mind if I squeeze in, laddie?" Archie asked.

"I would rather kill myself."

"Aye, suit yerself. I'll find my own way, then."

Huai'an... Xiao Yan... The journey had barely commenced, yet a dark dread had already taken root in David’s mind.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the three silver coins, staring down at them for a long, silent moment.

Keep me safe.

My love.