Time Trial by Warren Murphy

Author:Warren Murphy [Warren Murphy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Chiun (Fictitious character) --Fiction., Williams, Remo (Fictitious character) --Fiction.
ISBN: 9781035998968
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE WATER WAS STEAMING and fragrant with infusions of herbs. Remo, naked, allowed the beautiful bath girls to dry and oil him on one of the long benches of the tiled palace bathhouse. Chiun, draped in a white toga, occupied a small corner of the Olympic-sized pool, slapping away the hands that came to tend to him.

“Get away. Can the Master of Sinanju not expect even a modicum of privacy in this place?”

“I thought you liked it here.”

“I like motel bathrooms better. Make them go away.”

Remo sighed. “Okay, ladies, it’s a wrap,” he said, gesturing them out. They left, giggling.

“When is this dumb ceremony, anyway?” Remo asked.

“Soon. Dress yourself. You have no shame.”

Remo slipped into his trousers. “Can’t you go without me? I want to check out that—whatever it was that we came here in.”

“You will attend,” Chiun said. “While we are here, we follow the custom of our hosts. Who knows? Perhaps the king has need of the Master of Sinanju’s skills. Think diplomatically, Remo.”

“I’m trying to get us out of here,” Remo protested.

“Try after the ceremony.”

There was a solemn knock at the bamboo bathhouse door, sending echoes reverberating. It creaked open and Po walked in. He was covered by a magnificent robe, and carried two others. “These are for you,” he said. “For the ceremony. The king sent them. Dr. Lizzie is already dressed.”

“Will you look at these?” Remo said, running his hand over the jeweled garments.

Chiun stepped out of the water and passed an overly casual glance over the robes. “Not as good as those made in Sinanju,” he said.

“Yours has lumps of gold stuck on the front,” Remo said, holding up the small robe encrusted with glittering metal.

“Gold? Real gold?”

“See for yourself.”

“Ah,” he said, snatching it away from Remo. “Mine is much finer than yours. I told you these were civilized people.” He compared the two robes. “But then, yours has emeralds in it.” A frown crossed his face.

“Use it for a turban,” Remo said. “I’m going the way I am.”

“You cannot. This is high ceremony.”

“I don’t care if it’s Halloween. I plan to get out of here, and I’m not going back dressed as the Grand Poobah.”

· · ·

Remo stood in chinos and a black T-shirt atop the smoldering rim of the sacred volcano Bocatan while the nobles assembled. Clad in a lovely robe, Lizzie was curiously silent, taking in the scene around her. Chiun, beaming, glittered like a gem beside Remo. “Very wise choice, wearing your own clothes,” he whispered. “Where is the king? Do you think he will be perturbed that I have formed your robe into a cape?”

“He was in such bad shape, I don’t think he’ll have much on his mind except living for the next twenty minutes. I think I see the litter down there.”

Slowly, with awesome precision, the slaves made their careful way up the mountain with the covered sedan chair. Behind the king’s litter was another, of purest white, for the girl, Nata-Ah. Behind them both, at the end of the procession, walked the priest.

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