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he led them through the large
weather-beaten main red doors of the orphanage. The interior was drab and
dreary. Ben shivered involuntarily as he passed inside. He always hated coming
back to this place. While Madame Fru and the other women who ran the orphanage
were never cruel, kindness was not their strength, either. The ladies of the
Dragon Children’s Home performed their task of guiding the children in their
charge through the task of growing to useful adulthood, when they could be
released into society to take their place as productive, if not somewhat
scarred, members.
They
walked along the main corridor toward a staircase at the far end, their
footsteps muffled on a red, slightly threadbare rug. Halfway down the hall,
Madame Fru halted. Ben and Mailynn almost bumped into her, so suddenly did she
stop.
The
old woman turned to a door on her left. Turning the levered handle, it opened
with a creak. She ushered them inside and closed the door. Sitting behind a
lacquered mahogany desk, she indicated two small, carved chairs. The children
sat, heads bowed.
“Well,
we certainly have had a night,” she said. “What caused you to break curfew this
time…hmmm?”
“Nothing,”
Ben said without looking up.
Madame
Fru frowned. “Nothing? Well, that ‘nothing’ has caused a great deal of trouble
for me. What you call nothing could have dire consequences for this orphanage
and the children who call it home.
“It
was chartered more than 100 years ago as a refuge for children orphaned by the
northmen’s raids. The Dragon herself established it. Countless numbers of
children have grown up under our tutelage and left to take their place in
society. Some have even gone on to careers of distinction and importance.”
Ben
shrugged. “Yeah, so? What’s that got to do with me?”
Mailynn
sitting next to him nudged him with her elbow. He looked over and glowered at
her. She shook her head, frowning.
He
knew that look. It said, “Shut up, you’re only making it worse.”
“It
has everything to do with you,” Madame Fru hissed—so sharply that Ben
snapped his head around and looked up at her. “Why do you think I put up with
your constant disobedience? You might not realize it, but you have tremendous
potential—both of you—yet you insist on pursuing these night forays. You are
not Denchi, and stubbornly clinging to that aim will rob you—and Dragon Home—of
what you could one day be.”
“I
am sorry, Madame Fru,” Mailynn said, bowing her head. “You are right, of
course. We must apply ourselves more. It is unrealistic to strive for what
cannot be attained. Isn’t that right, Ben?”
Ben
sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry, Madame Fru. We’ll
work harder, I promise.”
The
old woman rose, her wrinkled face breaking into a small smile. “I am glad that
you are beginning to see the sense in what I say. Now, it is late. We shall
speak no more of this, and I trust we shall have no need to do so in future.”
Both
children stood and shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind them.
They walked down the corridor and up the stairs to the second floor.
In the
hallway before parting and going to their rooms, Ben said, “I won’t give up. I will
be a Denchi one day.”
“Why do
you want to be a Denchi so badly?” Mailynn asked. “Since we were small, you
have trained, always striving to make yourselves worthy to be an assassin.”
“Because
the Denchi Assassins are the only group who are capable of fighting the
northmen. One day, I shall become a Denchi and then I will have the skill and
backing necessary to take my revenge upon them for killing my parents.
“And
what of you, Mai? You have always been right alongside me. I thought we were
both going to be Denchi. After all, didn’t the northmen kill your family in a
raid, too?”
Mailynn’s
face hardened. “They did. My hatred for the murdering swine is no less than
yours. But, in case you hadn’t noticed, the Denchi Assassins do not accept
women into their order readily. What chance have I to avenge my family’s
death?”
Ben put
his hand on Mai’s shoulder. “That’s so, but sometimes they do. It could be so
with you. Let us sleep on what we should do. Perhaps the Denchi are not the
answer, after all. But mark my words, the northmen and their dragon will pay
for what they have done to us and to families up and down the coast of
Jongchin. I swear it!”
Mai
nodded, but she did not smile. The two children walked down the corridor to
their rooms. Mai opened her door and entered, but Ben paused at his door, his
hand on the door handle. When he heard Mai’s door close behind her, he
straightened, turned, and headed back downstairs.
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