Nine of the Desert Cats and Zangi-Ragozh rode after the furious sounder of boar; seven of the large, wild pigs ran squealing from the galloping ponies and the armed men who straddled them. Baru Ksoka stood in his metal foot-loops and took careful aim with his powerful bow, loosing his arrow as the leader of the boar swung around to rush at him, his tusks foaming. The boar staggered and his furious attack turned to a limping retreat as the Kaigan sent a second arrow into the boar's flank; the animal tottered, then fell heavily onto his side, his blood spreading through the dusting of yellow snow. The rest of the sounder scattered, the boars keening in fury and dread.

Imgalas rode up, his arrow notched to the string. "Shall we go after the others?" He sank onto his saddle and pulled his pony to a trot.

"Try for at least two more," Baru Ksoka said, and swung around in his saddle to look at Zangi-Ragozh. "Do you want to go with them?"

"I'll chase a boar for you," said Zangi-Ragozh, who carried a Roman boar spear. "I want to see how much better your iron foot-loops let me aim."

Baru Ksoka laughed aloud. "You will be surprised," he promised, and stepped down from his saddle, drawing his curve-bladed Nepalese chilanum to begin the task of gutting and skinning the dying boar. "Bring back a prize."

"I will," Zangi-Ragozh promised as he hastened after Imgalas and the rest. He gathered the cinder-brown pony's reins in his left hand and raised the spear with his right as he caught up with the other hunters.

"See you don't hurt anyone with that ... that poker of yours," Imgalas shouted to him.

"I would not do such a thing," Zangi-Ragozh called back.

"That is a reckless sort of weapon," Imgalas remarked.

"No doubt it seems that way to one who does not know how to use it," Zangi-Ragozh said, trying to maintain a genial demeanor; he spoke the Jou'an-Jou'an language much better now than he had even a fortnight ago. "If you like, I can show you."

"A spear against a boar when an arrow is possible? What do you take me for? Foreigners!" Imgalas scoffed, then allowed, "swell, why not? Perhaps you can use it well enough." He pointed with his arrow, indicating one of the largest of the wild pigs. "You try to bring down that big one with the tattered ear. You can make a good kill; he'll provide some meat, and enough leather for two saddles." Waving Zangi-Ragozh away, he ordered the other men to follow him, whooping as they hurtled after a pair of boars.

Zangi-Ragozh wheeled his pony and hurried after the boar Imgalas had indicated. He did not feel the harsh wind nor the bite of the cold in the scattered snowflakes. All his attention was on the boar, and on getting his pony close enough to throw the spear. Up ahead the ground rose into a low knoll, and the boar headed directly for it, Zangi-Ragozh and his pony steadily closing the distance between them and the wild pig. As he approached the fleeing animal, Zangi-Ragozh rose in the iron foot-loops and steadied himself for casting his boar spear, a risky and crucial preparation for the plunge. He maneuvered his pony close to the boar, held him there at a steady gallop while he prepared to thrust down with the long spear. His downward thrust rocked him, but his aim was true: the boar shrieked and kicked as he fell, and Zangi-Ragozh pulled in his cinder-brown pony to a walk, then guided him back to the boar, where the black-clad foreigner stepped down from the saddle-another benefit of the iron foot-loops-and approached the twitching boar, a long Darjeeling dao held ready for the final, fatal chop at the boar's neck; the blood that gouted from the wound steamed in the frosty air. Bending down, he drove the blade into the pig's belly as he drank the fountaining blood, wincing in spite of himself as he recalled the disemboweling knives that had killed him twenty-five hundred years ago.

"So you brought him down," exclaimed Imgalas as he rode up, his shearling shuba spattered with new blood.

Zangi-Ragozh straightened up and pulled the spear out of the dead animal. "Do you save the guts?"

"Of course," said Imgalas. "Why should we throw away something so useful?"

"Some others do not," said Zangi-Ragozh, putting the offal in a pile. "Do you have a sack for this?"

"Joksu Guadas has them. I'll send him over as soon as we have dressed the others," Imgalas shouted as he started his pony running back toward the rest of the hunters.

Zangi-Ragozh continued with his chore, setting the boar's organs beside the carcass. As he worked, he became aware of a distant sound of growling, and an instant later, he heard a pony whinny in distress. Straightening up, Zangi-Ragozh looked around and saw that Baru Ksoka, who was in the process of securing his kill to the back of his saddle, had attracted a pack of wolves. The Kaigan had reached for his chilanum, but the knife was beyond his grasp on the ground. He had unstrung his bow and could not brace himself to string it again, for the wolves were closing in around him, and his pony was panicking, rearing and trying to pull away from the powerful hand on the reins, and although Baru Ksoka kept the animal from bolting, he could not quiet him enough to mount. From his vantage point on a slight rise, Zangi-Ragozh realized that the Kaigan was in dreadful danger. Imgalas and the others were a greater distance away than he, making it clear that if he did nothing, Baru Ksoka would be savaged or killed.

Leaving the boar where it lay, Zangi-Ragozh vaulted into the saddle and set his pony galloping down the incline toward the wolves and Baru Ksoka. "Kaigan! Kaigan!" he shouted, hoping to be heard over the wolves and the pony.

One of the wolves rushed in and bit the on-side rear leg of the pony, drawing blood and giving the pony the final jolt of terror; the pony broke free of Baru Ksoka and bolted, the slaughtered pig bouncing on his croup as he fled. Most of the wolves took off after the pony, but five remained to circle the Kaigan, who had no weapons to fight them.

Zangi-Ragozh came pelting the last lengths between the Kaigan and the wolves and him. He had grabbed his boar spear and now began to swing it like a club, knocking one of the wolves with such force that he heard the animal's ribs crack as the flat of the spear-blade struck. As soon as he was sure that the wolf would not be able to continue the fight, he wheeled his pony and drove off another of the pack.

Baru Ksoka dove for his chilanum, shoving it deep into the nearest wolf, shouting as blood spurted over his hand; he pulled out the blade and prepared to stab again just as another wolf fastened on his arm, once, twice, teeth sinking into his flesh; the Kaigan's pony screamed as the wolves pulled him down, falling upon him in a frenzy. Hearing this, Baru Ksoka swore viciously and began to poke at the wolf that held him; his chilanum finally penetrated the wolf's shoulder, making him howl, and giving Baru Ksoka the chance to pull his arm free.

Zangi-Ragozh could see that the Kaigan was bleeding heavily from four serious wounds-three in his legs and one on his arm-and he paused in his attack on the remaining wolves to shout, "Can you stand?"

"For a while," Baru Ksoka said, reeling as he glanced at the damage that had been done.

From some distance away, Imgalas and the rest could be heard rushing toward them.

"Guard the boars!" Baru Ksoka shouted. "We need the meat!"

Zangi-Ragozh drove his boar-spear into the last wolf, then swung out of the saddle, leading his pony and going purposefully toward the Kaigan, who was jabbing at the bodies of the wolves lying around him, some still twitching.

Imgalas and the rest of the hunters appeared around the curve of the rise; they all stood in the foot-loops and had bows raised and arrows notched, ready to bring down the wolves. "Joksu Guadas!" Imgalas brayed. "Save the boars! Stop the wolves!"

Joksu Guadas pulled away from Imgalas, heading toward the surging knot of wolves as they descended on the pony and the slaughtered boar. He began to fire arrows into the mass of hungry wolves, shouting to Demen Ksai to work the other side. "Don't damage the hides any more than you must. They'll fetch a good trade!"

Demen Ksai shouted back his understanding and raised his bow, an arrow notched to the string, as he closed in on the other side of the churning pack. He quickly dispatched three wolves, and then sent an arrow into the pony's skull to end its suffering. Satisfied he had followed orders, he shouted to Joksu Guadas, "The pack is breaking up."

"Kill as many as you can." Joksu Guadas shot another wolf as an example. "They'll trail the clan now that they've found us, and we'll have to keep watch against them. Besides, we can use the skins, though theirs look a little mangy."

"That we can," Demen Ksai agreed, and shot another arrow into the pack.

The wolves roiled around the pony, snapping and growling; they were thin-not even their heavy winter ruffs could disguise how scrawny the bodies beneath the fur had become. As the men bore down on them, more and more fell to the arrow, and those few who broke away did not flee unscathed.

Watching this, Baru Ksoka hobbled a few steps in their direction. He staggered and would have fallen if Zangi-Ragozh had not come to his side and slipped his shoulder under Baru Ksola's arm to support him. "I ... I don't know what ..." A film of cool sweat made his face shine in the sere sunlight, and he had to clamp his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

Zangi-Ragozh had seen this rush of cold many times in his long life, and he knew it was more dangerous than the bleeding wounds. "Here. Put my shuba over yours," he offered, pulling off the heavy, sleeveless garment. "Then lie down and-"

"No! No Kaigan of the Desert Cats lies down in hunting, or in war!" His voice was shrill and he tried to break away from Zangi-Ragozh's support.

"You will fall down, then," said Zangi-Ragozh calmly, not giving up his bolstering. "If you stand, the blood will more quickly run from your legs. If you recline, you will save more blood."

"How bad are the bites?" His voice lowered as he looked away from Joksu Guadas and Demen Ksai as they finished off as many of the pack as could not flee, yipping and howling.

"They will need to be tended, and quickly." Zangi-Ragozh pulled on the reins of his pony, forcing the reluctant animal to walk through the wolves. "If you will not lie down, will you at least mount? Shorten the foot-loops so that your knees are higher than the pommel? You will not bleed so much."

Baru Ksoka nodded. "I am Kaigan. I should ride."

"Truly, you should." Zangi-Ragozh held the pony still as he assisted Baru Ksoka into the saddle, and then shortened the strap of the iron foot-loop.

Imgalas came cantering up on his lathered pony. "Eleven got away. The rest are dead, Kaigan."

"Then make the boars and pony ready to carry, and start skinning the wolves. Leave the bodies. Let them be food for scavengers." Baru Ksoka swayed a little in the saddle.

"That we will. There are four boars, counting the foreigner's," Imgalas reported.

"Jekan Madassi will be glad of that," said Baru Ksoka, his voice becoming thready.

Zangi-Ragozh spoke up. "Kaigan, your wounds need to be cleaned and closed."

Imgalas finally noticed the blood that was dropping from Baru Ksoka's foot, starting to puddle on the ground. "Our Kaigan is strong."

"Yes, he is, he would be unconscious now if he were not," said Zangi-Ragozh.

"Hardly that," muttered Baru Ksoka.

"If you force him to remain, he will have a more difficult recovery," Zangi-Ragozh warned.

"Foreigners are all so cautious," said Imgalas, his mouth turning with contempt.

"Be glad of it," said Zangi-Ragozh, and vaulted up behind the Kaigan, onto the croup of the pony; he nudged the flanks and set off at a jog-trot. After a short distance, Baru Ksoka slumped back against him, his breath labored. By the time they reached the Desert Cats' camp, Zangi-Ragozh was holding Baru Ksoka to keep him from falling. He turned his pony toward the wagon where Dukkai lay, and the pony slowed to a walk as if relieved that their journey was over. "Ro-shei!" he shouted as he jumped down from the pony.

From all around the camp came shouts and pointing as the Desert Cats saw Zangi-Ragozh ease Baru Ksoka out of the saddle and carry him toward the wagon; Neitis, Baru Ksoka's young nephew, was the first to come running up, shouting, "What happened?" He reached the pony's off-side and took hold of the iron foot-loop, his young face showing intense worry as well as curiosity.

"There were wolves after boar, and there was a fight." Zangi-Ragozh had reached the narrow rear platform and put Baru Ksoka down on it, making sure his shuba, as well as the Kaigan's own, was wrapped securely around him. "Baru Ksoka held off the pack."

"A valiant thing," Neitis approved, but his praise was short-lived as he stared at the deep bite gashes in the legs. "He is badly hurt."

"Yes, he is, which is why I must begin to treat him at once. Tell the others that the Kaigan cannot be disturbed just now." He was about to climb into the wagon, but added, "Dukkai will watch all that I do."

As if in response to her name, Dukkai called out, "Is that you, Zangi-Ragozh?"

"Yes. I am going to bring Baru Ksoka into the wagon, to clean and treat his injuries. Will you guard him while I work?"

Four more of the Desert Cats had reached the wagon, and they all spoke at once as they saw their Kaigan lying unconscious on the wagon's rear platform. The babble grew noisier as more of the clan hurried over and the questions became more insistent.

"Yes," Dukkai called out. "I will do that. I will see that no harm comes to Baru Ksoka."

"Watch closely!" shouted someone in the gathering crowd.

As Ro-shei reached the wagon, he had to push through the press of Desert Cats to reach Zangi-Ragozh. One glance at Baru Ksoka was enough for him to realize how grave the situation was. "Did a boar slash him?"

"No; those are wolf bites," said Zangi-Ragozh. "I need to get to work on him now. You know which direction the hunt went-Imgalas needs five men to ride out to help them bring home the pigs and pony and the wolf-pelts. Those of you who go, tell Imgalas that the Kaigan will live, if his wounds do not fester."

"You must stop that happening!" Neitis sounded terrified.

"If you cannot keep him alive, you had best have a fast pony ready," threatened another voice from the rear of the group.

"Go ahead with what you must do," said Ro-shei quietly. "I'll stand guard and do my best to explain." He noticed Neitis standing very near the back platform and said to him, "Do you want to help your uncle?"

Neitis nodded. "Why is he so quiet?"

"He is hurt," said Ro-shei. "He must have rest, so that he can regain his strength." He nodded over his shoulder to Zangi-Ragozh. "We will handle things, my master."

"Thank you," said Zangi-Ragozh, and climbed onto the rear platform and picked up Baru Ksoka in one easy gesture. He shouldered through the double hanging flap and saw Dukkai sitting on her hanging cot, anxiety carving lines in her countenance. "I suspect it is worse than it looks, but it is bad enough," he told her. "It is important that he stay warm."

"Has lie lost a lot of blood?" She held out her hand. "Tell me; I have to know."

"Yes. But he has not lost so much blood or turned so cold that he will die."

"How can you be sure?" She was pale, more from worry than from her own condition.

Zangi-Ragozh stared at her as he put the Kaigan down on a large chest. "If there is one thing I can be certain of, it is blood. The cold is less certain, but he has not become icy."

"Is that a danger?" Dukkai was growing upset.

"Cold is always dangerous to the living," he told her.

She studied him, nodded once more, and lay back on the hanging cot. "Do you have enough light?"

"I see well enough in the dark," he replied, then saw the apprehension in her eyes and went on, "But if you will move that oil-lamp, I will have fewer shadows to deal with, and my work will go more quickly," he said, working to peel back the leather leggings the Kaigan wore. "These are ruined," he said as he dropped the leggings, letting them fall into a basket near the head of the chest where Baru Ksoka lay.

"What happened?" Dukkai wondered aloud.

"He had slain a boar and was gutting it," said Zangi-Ragozh. "So he was by himself when a wolf pack came upon him. His pony bolted, and the wolves caught it." He bent over Baru Ksoka. "I have clean water in that blue cask." He pointed. "If you will hand it to me?"

"That I will," said Dukkai, reaching for it and holding it out to Zangi-Ragozh. "Will water be enough?"

"To clean the wounds? yes," said Zangi-Ragozh, prying up the wide top of the cask. "It is essential that the injuries be washed free of all material so that the medicament may work without impediment." He opened a large container and took out a stack of cotton squares, two of which he put into the water to soak. "He will have to sleep for as long as possible. I will prepare a draft for him when I have done with dressing his injuries. It is made from poppies-"

"We know about poppies," said Dukkai. "They can rob a man of his wits."

"And they are anodyne," said Zangi-Ragozh; he took one of the cotton squares from the water.

"You said-out there-that if his wounds do not fester, he will recover."

"Yes, and so he shall. He has an excellent constitution, and even now, when times are hard, he has kept up his strength and his stamina. Such men do not usually fail in their health unless rot of one kind or another sets in, and I have a sovereign remedy that makes such a development less likely."

"Are you so certain he will-"

"You need not worry, Dukkai." He leaned forward, using the wet cotton square to clean out the savage bites on Baru Ksoka's legs and arm. "He has a deep gash on his arm, and there may be some difficulty in healing."

"Why should that be?" She was becoming agitated, trying not to look away as Zangi-Ragozh continued to bathe the Kaigan's wounds.

"Because tendons are torn, and they often do not knit well, particularly in the arms, for they are so crucial in riding and fighting." This last addition was said as if from a distance as he concentrated on his task. "Those wolves-Baru Ksoka might well have been killed and eaten."

"Eaten?" she asked sharply.

"Of course. The wolves are as hungry as you are. Usually they avoid men in numbers." He put the red-stained cotton square into the basket with the leggings. "If you have any magic to offer him, it would be wise to do so."

"I will chant for him," she said, and began a three-note repetitive pattern of invocation to the gods of the flesh and healing, and to the Lord of the Skies, all the while keeping a wary eye on Zangi-Ragozh.

Taking the second cotton square from the water, Zangi-Ragozh sluiced the wounds thoroughly, then cleaned off Baru Ksoka's hands and face; while he was wiping the Kaigan's brow, the man finally stirred, murmuring disjointed syllables as he tried to shift his position on the chest. Zangi-Ragozh held him down with deceptive ease. "Calmly, Baru Ksoka, calmly," he urged. "Lie still and you will soon feel better." He reached with one hand to his container of medicaments and reached for a vial, and then a small jar, which he set on the end of the chest. Keeping Baru Ksoka still with his right arm, he took a cup from a braced shelf and dipped it in the cask of water, then emptied the contents of the vial into it before adding a dollop of thick, amber-colored syrup to the cup. He stirred the contents with an ivory chopstick and then helped Baru Ksoka to raise his head. "Drink this. It will lessen your pain."

Obediently Baru Ksoka drank, sputtering a little once as he tried to swallow too quickly. When the cup was empty, he looked blearily up at Zangi-Ragozh. "Where am I?"

"In my wagon at your camp. Imgalas and the rest of your men are bringing back boar, pony, and wolf-pelts." He disposed of the cotton square with its fellow in the basket. "I am going to dress your wounds and bind them with cotton."

"I believe his sovereign remedy will help you," Dukkai interjected.

"A sovereign remedy." Baru Ksoka was having trouble fixing his attention as he looked blearily from Dukkai to Zangi-Ragozh. "I need rest. Let me sleep." The last ended on a sigh as Zangi-Ragozh eased his head back down onto the chest.

"Yes. If you will rest, the remedy will do its work." He reached for his container of medicaments again, and this time took out a twist-lidded jar. He opened it, revealing an unguent that was the consistency of rabbit-skin glue. He fingered out a small amount and smeared it on the worst of the Kaigan's leg wounds, then repeated the application on the other. Straightening up, he took a length of cotton from his container and began to wrap the leg, working slowly and methodically. When he had finished with both, he took another fingerful of unguent and spread it over the deep punctures on Baru Ksoka's arm, taking care to work the substance deep into the injury; he paid no heed to the occasional grunts of pain that came from Baru Ksoka. When he was finished, he said, "I do not want you to use your arm or your hand for at least three days."

Baru Ksoka was growing weary, but he sighed, saying, "You must ... I am not ... a weakling."

"No, Kaigan, you are not," Zangi-Ragozh agreed. He stepped back in the confines of the wagon, taking care not to intrude upon Dukkai's chanting. He looked out the double-flap and saw Ro-shei standing nearby. "His wounds are medicated and bandaged. Will you inform his women to make his bed ready? He will be more comfortable among them than lying here."

The Desert Cats who had remained a short distance from the wagon looked up, many emotions on their usually impassive faces. Gotsada held up his hands. "Dukkai, my cousin, is summoning the gods to heal the Kaigan."

"Yes, she is." Zangi-Ragozh surprised the clan members with this statement. "All medicaments are improved by the might of the gods."

"Do you truly endorse her magic?" Gotsada demanded.

"I do." He signaled to Ro-shei. "He will need a carry-pallet."

"How can you know what is best for the Kaigan of the Desert Cats?" young Neitis asked with a little bravado in his manner.

"I can know because he is made of flesh, as are all men. He is strong, and that bodes well for him, but he is not made of anything stronger than flesh," said Zangi-Ragozh in a tranquil tone.

One of the Desert Cats laughed, and this broke the rising tension. Soon all the clan members keeping watch over the wagon were laughing, as much from relief as from mirth.

"I will see to the carry-pallet," said Ro-shei while the Desert Cats were distracted. "I will be ready in a short while."

"Very good; so will he," Zangi-Ragozh answered, then ducked back into the wagon's interior.

"Is it safe to move him?" Dukkai asked, her nervousness now more controlled than before. She had stopped chanting just as Zangi-Ragozh had come back into the wagon.

"It is," said Zangi-Ragozh. "Ro-shei will bring a carrying pallet, and that should be enough for the distance he has to cover."

"Are you sure that you have done all you can for Baru Ksoka? Have you used all your knowledge to aid him?" This bordered on an accusation.

"For the time being, yes. Now he needs a chance to strengthen himself and to be restored. It would be best if he had as few disturbances as possible."

"Is that important?"

Zangi-Ragozh nodded once. "Out here, on the trade route, rest is the most potent medicine of all. If he is bothered, jostled, fussed over, or his rest impeded in any way, it will only serve to slow his recuperation. As he improves, there will be more I can do."

"You do expect him to improve, don't you? If you think he will get worse, let me know now so that I may chant for him more diligently."

"He may have some fever, but I have treatments for that if he should need it; however, the sovereign remedy should keep rot at bay. He may have swelling around the bites. But unless the wolves were rabid, he should recover, if his wounds are kept properly dressed." His voice was level and assured, and he looked at Dukkai somberly. "We will know in a day if he will recover: believe this."

"Then I shall chant for as long as I can today, and as long as I can tomorrow," she announced. "It is what the clan expects of me, and what I must give them." She looked from Baru Ksoka to Zangi-Ragozh. "I hope you are right."

Before he could answer, the back flap was lifted and Ro-shei climbed onto the platform. "I have the carrying pallet, and two men to bear it."

"Will that be enough?" Dukkai asked sharply.

"Two men should be sufficient," he told her, "if they are careful."

"Have Gotsada walk with them, to keep the clan away," said Dukkai.

"A very wise precaution," said Zangi-Ragozh. He signaled to Ro-shei. "Leave the carrying pallet here and go find Gotsada, if you would; bring him here quickly. Tell him he is needed to protect the Kaigan." As Ro-shei moved away, Zangi-Ragozh pulled the carrying pallet into position, bracing it in place with a small, heavy chest. "I will make this as easy as I am able," he said to Baru Ksoka, although only Dukkai gave any sign of hearing him. With a swift, powerful motion, he lifted Baru Ksoka and lowered him onto the carrying pallet, then set about securing the two broad belts around him. "There," he said as soon as he was finished. He reached for one of the folded lengths of wool and put it over the Kaigan's recumbent form. "This will keep him warm."

"Is cold really so dangerous?" Dukkai asked as if she expected a different answer than before.

"Men die of it," said Zangi-Ragozh, lifting the carrying pallet with no apparent effort; he moved this to the rear platform and saw two young men-Ksuintol and Erasai-waiting. There was no sign of Ro-shei or Gotsada. "Baru Ksoka is almost ready for you to carry him." Behind him, from the wagon, he heard Dukkai start to chant again. "Carry him as lightly and gently as you can. Let nothing intrude upon him."

Erasai seemed a bit dubious. "Nothing? Not even his family?"

"Only his women, when he is in their care. Otherwise you may interfere with Dukkai's magic."

The two young men exchanged glances, and Ksuintol was about to speak when Gotsada arrived to take charge of the situation. "Your companion told me what must be done. I will see that the Kaigan is undisturbed as we go through the camp."

"Very good," said Zangi-Ragozh, saying to the two young men, "Remember: lightly and gently."

"Take him up," ordered Gotsada, and took up his position at Baru Ksoka's head. "We will not go any faster than a walk."

The young men hefted the carrying pallet and got it balanced between them, then, at Gotsada's nod, they set off toward the Kaigan's large, round tent, Gotsada warning all those who approached to leave Baru Ksoka alone so that he could rest. As they moved through the camp, more and more of the Desert Cats followed them, at a respectful distance.

Zangi-Ragozh remained on the rear platform of the wagon, waiting for Ro-shei to return. As he listened to Dukkai's chanting, he noticed that the pale-yellow snow had started falling once again.

Text of a letter from Hu Bi-Da to Jho Chieh-Jen, both in Yang-Chau, at the end of the Fortnight of the Frost Kings.

To my most esteemed colleague and fellow-employee of the distinguished foreigner Zangi-Ragozh, the most earnest and sincere greetings of Hu Bi-Da, the senior clerk of the Eclipse Trading Company, with the fervent wish that Jho Chien-Jen is faring better than we are here at the offices and warehouses of Zangi-Ragozh's trading enterprise.

Alas, I must begin by reporting that we now have learned from four sources that the Bounteous Fortune, and all her cargo, are lost. The Bounteous Fortune had just left Sangasanga between the Sulu and Celebes Seas, bound for Marakan. Captain So was relieved that the ship had not been damaged by the huge waves and howling winds that had battered the region, saying it was unwise to go to sea with such omens. He ordered canvas shelters be put on deck to guard against the stinging, stinking rain that fell relentlessly and pledged to ride out the storm. But in those narrow waters, what is hardly noticed in the open sea becomes cause for upheaval. The two seas and the Macassar Strait combined the force and confines of the waters, making the waves higher, more irregular and disruptive, and at last, the Bounteous Fortune broke apart on the rocks of Borneo and sank in shallow water. All but three of the crew died of injuries or drowning, Captain So succumbing to infections in burns and similar eruptions on his skin, which no one would touch, fearing it would pass to them. Two of the three remaining succumbed to similar lesions; the lone survivor had improvised a turban Such as some wear in India and wrapped himself in broad leaves during the rain. He finally came upon a ship belonging to Kao Shai-Ming, who, in the spirit of Yang-Chau, brought the sailor, one Mong-Dja, back home. Now that winter is closing in again, I am very much afraid that no ships from Eclipse Trading will be able to set out again until at least the Fortnight of Flower Rains, and that is ten fortnights away-too long for ships to be idle if any business is to succeed.

It pains me to add more unfortunate news: the house of Dei-Na, our employer's former concubine, was broken into and ransacked. Dei-Na herself, who has led an exemplary life, was treated with great violence and disrespect and has withdrawn to the house of her father, to tend to him now that his health is failing. She has taken as much of her goods, clothes, and food that can be salvaged. As you must have heard, there was a raid by hooligans in the riverfront area. Twenty-three people were killed and another forty-nine were injured, according to what the Prefecture has announced; I am of the opinion. the figure is higher, but I have no means to confirm this suspicion. In the raiding, six ships were set afire, and it was only due to Kuan-Yin that none of this company's ships were lost, although the warehouse on Old Canal Street was a little damaged.

For these reasons, and because of the Gray Cough, I can only spare nine men. You may have to find the remaining six you seek from outside the city. I know that rebuilding the south wall of the compound is essential, and that there have been raids in your area as well as inside the city walls. I regret that we have reached such an impasse, but with the weakness of the sun, the tempestuous weather, the spreading and insidious Gray Cough, and general hunger, no one is free from; want, or capable of eliminating danger. You tell me your supplies are low, and you now know that mine are, as well. I wish I were in a position to do more, but I am not, just as you cannot spare anyone to fortify the docks and increase the guards on Zangi-Ragozh's ships. I will beseech August Heaven to aid you, as our Captains must also be aided, at least until such time as our employer returns to make his desires and decisions known to us all.

This Year of Yellow Snow has brought many hardships, not only to the Middle Kingdom, but to many other lands. From the reports of the sea Captains, no port has been untouched by this dreadful cold, and the burning rain. It may be some time before any of us will be able to restore his fortunes, and it may be that, if worse comes, most of us will lose all. It has been reported by a number of trustworthy seamen that Sunda Kalapa has been all but leveled by waves and falls of ash that are higher than a tall mat in many places. Such desolation has been spared us, but it may still happen that we may endure greater calamities than have befallen us thus far. It troubles me that we cannot provide suitable offerings to our shrines nor spare more incense for the ancestors, but I also know that this is the Will of Heaven, and that when the worst has been reached, the change will come that, like the seasons, will restore us to better than what we had before, for all nature must ultimately be in balance.

May Kung Fu-Tzu's principles guide you, and Lao-Tsu's comprehension bring you comfort. May your family be spared suffering, and may all this soon be nothing but a terrible memory.

Hu Bi-Da

Senior Clerk, Eclipse Trading Company

(his chop)

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